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justtwotired · 6 months

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Whispers of the night - Lloyd Garmadon x F!reader

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Your POV

“Y/n L/n!” I looked back when I heard a familiar voice yell out my name. I stood at my locker, leaving my books behind at school.

Luna was leaning against the locker next to mine and Flora and Amelia where a few lockers down, noses in their own.

Well not anymore, since James yelled my name rather loudly. He was followed by the twins and Charlie who all looked stern.

“What’s with you four?” I asked and James sighed. “You challenged Brown for a fight? Are you insane?” He asked and I rolled my eyes.

“Please, Jamie, I can easily win this!” I reassured him and he sighed. “I know you can, that’s not the point. The point is that you are going to get yourself expelled and if you fail the year, we can’t got to college together!” He complained and I sighed.

“It’s going to be fine, I promise, I’ll make the year, I mean, I’m doing pretty well, I’ll promise I’ll make it trough the year so the two of us can get into college together.” I said and he narrowed his eyes at me.

“You better, because I ain’t going alone!” I laughed and shut my locker. “Let’s go, I’ve got a guy to beat up.” I grinned and they followed me outside.

“If he hurts her I’m killing him,” I heard Arthur whisper to Anthony who gave a nod in agreement. “I heard that!” I said and they looked at me, scarily in sink.

“N/n, I mean it, if he actually hurts you I will snap his neck.” Arthur said and I smiled a bit at him. I looked over at Charlie and Flora, she was revising the story to him about how I had stood up against Brown.

He gave me a thankful look and I gave him a warm smile back. These people are my family, I’ll protect them at all cost.

We walked out of the building and I was surprised to see he actually showed up. A crowd had already formed, as the news spread really fast, I just hoped a teacher wouldn’t show up.

“Millie, hold my earrings,” I said as I took them out and laid them in her hands before quickly putting my hair into a bun.

“Awe, she showed up,” he gave me a fake pouty face and I narrowed my eyes. “I will give you one last chance to fuck off and leave my friends alone, otherwise I will make you regret it,” I said and he chuckled.

“And what are you going to do? Make me-” I didn’t let him finish his sentence and punched him in the nose.

The fight had begun and he swung at me, I easily dodged him and let him trip over air as he was cluelessly attacking me.

After ten minutes, he laid panting on the ground, he’d gotten my nose aswel, though not that hard so it was only slightly bleeding.

He on the other hand had a blue eye slowly forming, blood was gushing from his nose and he had a busted lip.

I raised my foot to see if he was ready to continue but he just raised his hands to cover his face, making me out the foot down and take a step forward.

“If I ever see you bothering my friends again, you won’t get away with it as easy as this,” I threatened before walking towards my cheering friends and we left the school grounds.

Lloyd POV:

“Lloyd!” I turned to Nya who entered the training room and I stopped attacking the dummy in front of me.

“What’s up?” I walked over me and she pushed her phone in my hands. “Watch!” She said and I looked at the screen.

I was surprised to see that the argument I had broken up earlier weren’t just empty threats and they actually fought.

Y/n was winning form the beginning and I was surprised to see she didn’t even seem to break a sweat.

“If I ever see you bothering my friends again, you won’t get away with it as easy as this,” my eyes winded slightly at her words as she turned around and walked towards her friends who where cheering her on.

The crowd had also quickly picked her side and clapped as she left campus, the video stopped when a voice of a teacher was heard.

“Holy shit,” I said and looked at Nya who had stars in her eyes. “Please let me meet her!” She said and I chuckled.

“We’ll see, I think she’ll like you, though,” I guaranteed and Nya squealed, “I’m going to show the others!” She then ran off and I shook my head in disbelief.

Your POV:

Alright, I was grounded for two weeks, but it was definitely worth it. I was sat in my room, reading a book when my phone buzzed.

Blondie

Just saw the video, you actually fought him? It thought you where bluffing

I chuckled and started to answer.

You

What can I say, I am one badass😎.

No, kidding, he was just an asshole that needed a lesson which I thought him.

Blondie

You where pretty good, I think my basic self defence lesson was useless for you.

You

Pretty much, but good lesson though, can’t you just teach all the time?

Blondie

Afraid Kai will be taking over again ):

But I understand you’d want me to teach, I am pretty attractive while teaching

You

Keep telling yourself that, lmao

Blondie

I didn’t have too

Your eyes did it for me during the lesson (;

You

That’s my que to go offline

Blondie

Noooo :(

You

Night blondie

My two weeks of being grounded consisted out of not allowed to see my friends, only going out when going to school and lots of training with my father.

Oh, and work, but that was only Tuesday and Thursday.

I blocked my fathers punch and was about to punch back when he kicked out my feet from under me.

I reacted by doing the same from of the ground and quickly got up, pointing my sword at his throat.

“Be nice to your old man,” he said and I pulled the tip of my sword away from his neck and helped him up.

Without a warning he stole the sword, floored me and threw the sword away. I quickly wanted to get up but he stopped me by putting his foot against my throat and I scrunched my nose.

“Dad! Gross!” I said and he laughed before sitting down next to me.

“You’re off today, normally you’d see that one coming from a mile away.” He looked at me and I sighed.

“I miss my friends, I only see them at school and they are having fun at the skatepark right now while I’m here.” I said and he let out a deep chuckle.

“Should’ve thought about that before beating up that kid,” he said and I grinned. “He deserved it though,” I said and he pushed my shoulder slightly.

“You have five days to go, it’ll be fine, kid, we’ll make training fun, and you have work tomorrow, you like work right?” He said and I shrugged.

“I guess you’re right,” I smiled and he put an arm around me. “How about some illusions?” He asked and I smirked up at him.

The next day, I hummed along to the radio while making cookies at work, as we where almost out of the cookies we sold.

Someone entered the shop and I turned around and a genuine smile came onto my face when I saw Lloyd.

“Blondie, such a pleasant surprise,” I said and he chuckled.

“Still grounded?” He asked and I sighed and nodded. “Yup, and I am afraid my mom is contemplating to take my phone away for the weekend just to ‘teach me a lesson’ or something,” I complained and he chuckled.

“Shouldn’t have beaten up that kid,” he said and I rolled my eyes while grabbing the flower. “You sound like my dad,” I said and he let out a breathy laugh.

“You’re not busy, are you?” He asked and I gave him a look. “Lloyd, look around, does it look busy to you?” I asked and he looked at the empty tables, only one containing some empty mugs I hadn’t grabbed yet.

“Seems rather lonely,” he said, “I shall be nice and stay here for company,” he winked and I rolled my eyes and shook my head with a smile.

“Yeah, I work alone Thursdays, so some company would be nice,” I said as I mixed my patch of dough.

“Do you want a coffee?” I asked and he contemplated it for a moment. “Uh, yeah sure, why not.” He smiled and I abandoned my patch of dough.

“What do you like, then?” I asked. “A cappuccino would do,” he said and I gave him a look. “Basic,” I said jokingly and he let out an offended noice. “Mean,” he said and I stuck my tongue out.

I made the cappuccino and asked if he wanted anything with that. “Uh yeah, three sugars,” he said and my eyebrows raised. “Three?” I asked, grabbing them anyway.

“What can I say, I have one heck of a sweet tooth,” he said and I chuckled lightly. “Well here you go, sir,” I said and he took the coffee and looked at me with a smile.

“Thanks, miss,” he said and I chuckled softly before continuing to make my batch of cookies. “I suppose Kai will be teaching my self defence class again tomorrow?” I asked and he nodded.

“Correct, but I thought you weren’t allowed in self defence class anymore?” He asked confused.

He was right, after the fight I had gotten two days suspension and they said I couldn’t attend self defence class anymore because of my ‘aggressive behaviour’.

“Yes, but they thought about it and decided that they’d rather have me in class then roaming around the school,” I shrugged as I added the chocolate chips.

“How fun, now you may deal with Kai every week,” Lloyd sarcastically and I sent him a small smile as I started to roll the dough to small balls.

“You make it sound like it’s a horrible thing,” I said grinning and he just chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. “That’s because it is.” He told me.

“I’ll remember to tell him tomorrow,” I said and Lloyds eyebrows rose. “You’d betray me like that?” He acted fake hurt and I playfully rolled my eyes.

He stayed around for quite a while before he got a call and had to leave in a hurry, which I found rather strange, but I didn’t question it further.

When the cookies where done, I put most of display and held a few back, Ace loves these cookies and he let slip to me that his nanny loves them too, even though he had promised not to tell anyone.

His nanny was about my age, she was a nice girl and we got along great, though I didn’t see her that much.

Trough the day I got some customers, one of my favourite, Mr. Walters, who always stopped by for a caramel latte for his elderly wife who was battling cancer in the hospital. We always added a red velvet cupcake because it was her favourite, it was basically company policy.

“How has Lorrain been doing?” I asked as I poured the steamed milk in the large paper take away cup.

“Better actually, the dokters say there is a big chance she will manage to beat it this year,” he said and I could see tears of happiness in his eyes.

“That’s amazing! I really hope that will come true!” I said as I put the lid on the cup and handed that, plus a small paper bag containing the cupcake to the man, having paid before hand.

“Thank you, dear, I will see you next week,” he said taking the goods and walking out of the shop.

At the end of the day, I closed down, sweeping the floor and the tables, doing some last dishes and putting the remaining goods swatch putting some in a bag to take home.

I left a small not down good luck to my coworkers who started early the next day and then locked the door, to get home.

Kai POV:

I walked into the gym to teach my class when I noticed that Y/n was in my class. I huffed slightly, there was not much wrong about her, I just felt something off about her because of her stealing and getting herself into trouble.

I couldn’t help but listen in on her conversation she was having with her friend, who I know was named Luna as I had her last week aswel.

“Lu, you won’t believe this!” She said excitedly and I couldn’t help but break a small smile at her cheery behaviour. “What? What is it?” Luna asked her.

“So, Mr. Walters came into work yesterday, as always, you know what he told me?” She continued and Luna gave her an exasperated look. “Come onnn! Tell me!” She pushed.

“There is a big chance Lorrain will beat cancer before end of the year!” She jumped up and down and both girls cheered.

It kind of broke the ice to see her like that. Lloyd had told me about her work, and I thought it was nice she was so excited about what seemed to be a customer.

I shook my head slightly and started the class, deciding that maybe Y/n wasn’t so bad after all.

Yeah, she and her friends beat me in a chase after stealing from a store, but she was still nice- of course the reason I was wary of her wasn’t because she beat me in a chase…

Alright, it kind of was, but come on! I have years of training, and they have what? Skateboard stamina? If that’s even a thing.

Your POV:

I had been right, my mom did take away my phone for the weekend, which left me to sit in my room and mope all day.

I couldn’t talk to my friends, I wasn’t allowed to go out, I couldn’t text Lloyd, I wasn’t allowed to watch tv, dad was gone and forgot to leave me the key to the training room, so my day basically sucked.

At the moment, I was trying to create a partronus, like you see in Harry Potter, but then it was an illusion.

I could see my own illusions if I wanted to, thank the first spinjitzu master, but sometimes they where actually quite hard for me to do.

I had already managed to make a fox and was now trying a snake, when there was a knock on my door.

“Come in!” I called and the door opened, I was met with one of our staff members.

“Miss Y/n, dinners ready, your mother waits for you in the dining hall.” She said and I got of the bed. “Thank you, Nora.” I smiled and she gave me a kind smile back before leaving to get my brother while I went downstairs.

There, in the dining room, my mother sat, aswel as my younger sister.

I guess my mother read my facial features and sighed. “Don’t mope, Y/n, you know I had a good reason to ground you,” she said and I nodded.

“Yeah, I know,” this was gonna be a fun dinner… not.

It was spent with my mother slightly lecturing me about not causing trouble in school (again) and Ace was snickering the whole time, making her round on him.

Sure, my mother was strict, but she could be really sweet and caring when she wasn’t mad at anyone.

After dinner I excused myself and sat in my room, deciding to read a book instead of moping around.

Suddenly, while reading, there where taps on my window. I thought nothing of it and continued reading, but when it happened again I looked up.

I yelled when I saw someone sitting at the window and my hand quickly inched towards the knife laying on my bedside table, until I saw who it was.

I walked over and opened my window with an angry frown.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper shouted. The green ninja climbed trough my window and looked around.

“Your room is huge!” He said and I shushed him immediately. “It took a long while to find you, your house is way to big,” he said and I clenched my fists.

“What are you doing here?” I asked again and he looked at me for a moment. “Oh, yeah I didn’t see you in a while and started to worry, so I thought I’d visit you.” He shrugged and I smacked his shoulder.

“Are you mental?” I asked and he chuckled. “Only a bit,” he said and I groaned. “You can’t just show up at my house! What if my parents see you? What if one of the guards see you?” I hissed and he shrugged.

“I’m the green ninja, I’ll talk my way out,” he winked and I shook my head in disbelief. “You can’t just break into my house!” I said and he I could see by his eyes that he smirked.

“Technically,” he started, “I didn’t break in, you let me in,” he pointed out and I gave him an unamused look.

“Besides, don’t act like you aren’t happy to see me, sweetheart,” he said and I let out a small huff. “Who says I’m happy to see you?” I asked and he took a step closer.

“Your heartbeat does,” he said and I felt my face flush and my knees grew slightly weak. “There it goes again,” he teased and I pursed my lips.

“You can hear my heartbeat?” I asked and he nodded with a small smirk. “Yeah, super senses, it’s a family thing,” he shrugged.

“Yours is going rather fast,” he said tauntingly and I gulped slightly, trying my best to slow down my heartbeat.

“But enough about me, tell me about you,” he turned away from me and sat himself down in one of the chairs in my room. “Where have you been? Why haven’t I seen you around?” He asked me interested and I couldn’t help but grin.

“What? Have you missed me?” I asked and he let out a low chuckle. “Of course, why do you think I’m here?” He said, gesturing around the room.

I shook my head, slightly rolling my eyes and sat down in front of him on another chair.

“I’m grounded,” I revealed and I noticed by his eyes that his eyebrows rose. “Damn, Princess, what did you do? Got caught sneaking out?” He said and I shook my head no.

“I go into a fight at school,” I explained and he seemed a bit surprised, but something inside of me felt like his surprise was fake, as if he already knew.

“Tell me more,” he said, leaning forwards a bit and I narrowed my eyes a bit. “I don’t think I have to,” I said and he seemed actually surprised by that one. “I think you already know,” I said and he let out a deep chuckle.

“Aren’t you a sharp one?” He grinned. “Yeah, alright, you caught me. I already know, but I thought I’d hear from you what happened,” he said and I raised a brow.

“Why is that? Are you interrogating me and arresting me afterwards?” I asked, even though it was obviously a joke.

He just shook his head and kept eye contact with me, making me shift in my seat. “No, I just think you are really interesting, Y/n L/n,” he said making my heartbeat raise and he gave me a smug look as he knew, he heard.

“Why are you here? The actual reason this time,” I said narrowing my eyes at him and he shrugged. “Like I said, your interesting, there’s just something about you-” he got cut off as we both heard footsteps on the stairs

I held my breath, hoping they weren’t going for my room.

“Y/n, Honey!” Damn it!

I shot up and quickly dragged the green ninja by the arm, taking him to my walk in closet and pushing him inside.

“Stay here, don’t you make a peep,” I whispered and shut the door, just as my room door opened.

“Mum, hi!” I said with a bright smile and she narrowed her eyes slightly. “Hi,” she said and looked around the room as I walked over to my bed and sat down.

“What is it?” I asked and she looked at the window curiously. “Why is your window open?” She asked and I swallowed.

“I uh, I felt hot, I thought I’d open the window to let some cool air in,” I lied, why hadn’t I just shut the goddamn window?

“Are you sick?” My mum walked over already reaching out to put her hand on my forehead. “Mum- I’m fine, really,” I promised and she sighed as I dodged her hand.

“Alright, but if you get more symptoms I’m taking you to a doctor. I just sighed and nodded. Even with just the flue, mum just wanted me to a dokter, as always.

“Fine, why did you even come here?” I asked a bit annoyed and she crossed her arms. “Don’t get that tone with me, young lady,” she scolded. “I just came to tell you that we have a dinner party at the Chapman’s tomorrow.” She said and I couldn’t help but smirk.

That meant I got to see James! I hadn’t seen him since Thursday and it was killing me, as he is my best friend.

“Yeah, sounds good,” I said and crossed my legs on my bed. “Alright hunny, now get some sleep, you seem tired and I don’t want you to get sick.” She kissed the top of my head and left the room.

When I heard her footsteps reach the ground floor, I shot up and opened my closet door.

“Alright, you have to go,” I said and he gave me sad puppy dog eyes making me glare back. “Don’t you try that with me, I am still kicking you out,” I said and he just laughed and walked out of the closet and back towards the window while I followed him.

“Alright, but I’ll be seeing you again, Princess,” he said, before winking and jumping out of the window.

#ninjago lloyd x reader #lloyd garmadon x reader #ninjago lloyd #lloyd garmadon #ninjago x reader #ninjago city #kai smith x reader #kai smith #nya smith #ninjago zane #zane julien #cole brookstone x reader #cole x reader #cole brookstone #jay walker x reader #jay walker

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kiddoryder · 3 months

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Angelic Friend

Hey guys! The season finale was SO good!! I love it so much!! Can’t wait for season 2! But this fanfic will take place before the finale.

Anyway, this story is about my new OC Pixie, who became friends with Charlie and the others but has a major secret.

So relax and enjoy the story!

Blitz and Sophie McKnight belong to @loli-momo1908

At 666 Lucifer Elementary School, Sonya was at her locker putting away her books. Liz came out in shadow form looking a bit annoyed.

Liz - “Why didn't you leave that boring class?”

Sonya - “Because I actually wanted to learn a new potion spell.”

Liz - *whining* “But that was boring!”

Sonya - *rolled her eyes* “You’re such a drama twin.”

Liz - *cross her arms* “Well you’re lucky it’s almost lunch time.”

As Sonya and Liz were walking to lunch, they heard some strange noises. They were sounding like somebody was being banged into lockers.

Liz - “What the hell was that?”

Sonya - “No idea. But let’s check it out. You know our curiosity.”

Liz - “Yeah, but unlike cats, it doesn't kill us.”

They followed the noises until they were down the hall. They were surprised to see a humanoid butterfly demon with black hair in a bob style, antennas, yellow glass eyes, big red and black wings along with the same color spiky dress, black gloves, with a gray belt, and brown boots. The butterfly was getting pushed around by 2 imp kids and a hellhound. Sonya and Liz looked disgusted as they witnessed the butterfly getting pushed around.

Butterfly - “Please leave me alone!”

Imp kid - “Not until you give us your lunch money.”

Butterfly - “No! It’s mine!”

Hellhound - “Heh. Why don’t we rip this freak wings off?”

Imp kid 2 - “Good idea!”

Just when they were about to grab the butterfly’s wings, they heard Sonya’s voice:

Sonya - *threateningly* “Hey! Leave her alone!”

The bullies turned and saw Sonya.

Imp kid - *smug* “Hey it’s the weirdo with the imaginary friend!”

Sonya - “Liz isn’t imaginary! She’s real!”

Hellhound kid - “Just get out here before we beat you next!”

Sonya - “Not until you leave the girl alone!”

Imp kid 2 - “Then I guess we are gonna have to bust you up!”

Sonya - “Alright. But can I just read something!”

Imp kid - *scoff* “What? Your will or your diary?”

Sonya - “No this! *take out a spellbook* somnum exterreri!”

At first, nothing happened. The bullies laughed at Sonya but still had that smile on her face. But then a few seconds, the bullies eyes turned purple and they fell on the ground screaming. Sonya smirks at this and went to the butterfly girl. She held out a hand to her:

Sonya - *softly* “You okay?”

Butterfly - *shyly* “Y-Yes. Umm…What did you do to those boys?”

Sonya - “I did a nightmare spell. They would be trap in their worst nightmare. Don’t worry, it only last a few hours.”

Butterfly - turn her head and rub her arm“Well…Thank you for saving me.”

Sonya - *smiles* “No problem. I can’t stand bullies. What’s your name by the way?”

“My name is Pixie.”

Sonya - “I’m Sonya Morningstar. This is my twin sister Liz.”

Liz - “Sup Shybug!”

Pixie - *uncomfortable* “Umm…It’s Pixie and how come you’re a shadow?”

Sonya - *chuckles* “My sister and I were born a Gemini: it’s considered very rare in Hell since it’s a pure earth star. We share the same body. Liz likes to give nicknames to people she meets.”

Liz - “It’s easier to remember than real names.”

Sonya - “Come on, We will show you around Hell.”

Pixie - “Um? What about school?”

Liz - *shrugs* “None of the teachers would care. They sometimes even let us go early if they don’t feel like teaching us anything.”

()()()()()()()()

As Sonya, Liz and Pixie were taking a walk on the street. As they were walking, Pixie was looking around and saw demons. They were either fighting, killing each other, stealing, etc. Pixie was feeling a bit uncomfortable seeing blood and guts and fire. She once again turned her head and rub her arm since it sometimes helps calm her down when she’s nervous.

Pixie - *uncomfortable* “Umm…Is this always like this?”

Sonya - “Yeah. But you get used to it.”

Liz - “What are ya? A sinner or hellborn?”

Pixie - “Oh! Um…I’m a sinner.”

Sonya - “Really? How long have you been here?”

Pixie - “A-A few days actually. I did some pretty bad stuff and I’m here. By myself.”

Sonya - *sympathetically* “Oh man really?”

Liz - *whispers* “Hey Sonya, tell her about the hotel.”

Sonya - *whispers* “Good idea! Hey Pixie, I know what place you can go to.”

Pixie - “Really?”

Sonya - *grabs her hand* “Yeah! Come on!”

()()()()()()()()

Sonya and Pixie ran until they made it in front of the Hazbin Hotel. Pixie’s eyes widened in surprise at how nice the hotel actually looked. Since the other buildings she had seen are either damaged, dirty, or run down.

Pixie - “What is this place?”

Sonya - “The Hazbin Hotel!”

Liz - “Our cuz Charlie owns it.”

Pixie - “Really?”

Sonya - “Yeah it’s super cool! I’ll show you.”

Sonya led Pixie inside and saw some egg bois covered in paint and getting chase by Niffty who is trying to clean them. Sir Pentious was trying a picture but was using the brush too hard. Angel was painting but was looking at Husk who just gave him the finger. Blitz and Sophie was also working on their painting as well. Charlie and Vaggie were also painting until Charlie noticed Sonya and Liz with Pixie.

Charlie - *happy* “Oh hey Sonya and Liz! *she hugs them* Oh! Who’s your little friend?”

Sonya - “This is Pixie. She’s new in Hell.”

Pixie - *shyly* “N-Nice to meet you.”

Charlie - *warmly* “Nice to meet you too. Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel: where sinners come to get redeem and go to heaven with the help from me! The Princess of Hell.”

Pixie - *shocked* “Princess of Hell?! *freaking out* Oh uh…N-Nice to meet you *curtsy* your princess-ness I-I mean your highness or umm…Royal lady person? No! That’s not good! Umm-“

Charlie - “Whoa! Take it easy. You can just call me Charlie.”

Pixie - *takes a deep breath* “R-Right. Charlie. Umm…So you redeem sinners here?”

Charlie - “Yep! I feel like it’s a better solution than the extermination.”

Pixie - “Extermination?”

Charlie - *surprised* “Oh my? You don’t know? Well for as long as I can remember: heaven sent these cruel awful exorcists that would come and kill a lot of sinners.”

Pixie - *horrfied* “That's so horrible!”

Charlie - *determinated* “But this hotel is going to change that! It will show heaven that everybody deserves a second chance.”

Pixie still looked scared and nervous. Especially hearing about the extermination. Sonya noticed this and said:

Sonya - “Umm…Cousin Charlie, why don’t we show what we are doing now?”

Charlie - “Good idea! *sweetly* Pixie, do you like to draw and paint?”

Pixie - *slowly nods* “I love drawing.”

Charlie - “Come I’ll introduce you to the others. *points to Vaggie* This is my girlfriend Vaggie.”

Pixie - *shyly held out her hand* “Nice to meet you.”

Vaggie - *smiles* “Nice to meet you too. You have very nice wings.”

Pixie - *smiles* “Thanks.”

Charlie - “These are also our guests. The first one is Angel Dust.”

Angel - “Hey kid. I really like your dress. It remind of that bitch Velvette once wore for some fashion shit.”

Pixie - “Oh you’re into fashion too?”

Angel - *nods* “Yep. I’m a drag queen, a sexy one at that. And I also love to suck-“

Sonya - *mad* “Angel! Nobody wants to hear that!”

Angel - *chuckles* “Popsicles! I wasn’t gonna say anything dirty.”

Pixie - *to Charlie* “What does he mean?”

Charlie - *nervously chuckles* “It’s nothing. Our other guest is Sir Pentious.”

Sir Pentious - “Greetings little butterfly! I’m the great Sir Pentious who will

Someday show off his amazing inventions in hell!”

Vaggie - *stern* “Pentious, what have we discuss before?”

Sir Pentious - *sighs* “No building weapons in the hotel.”

Charlie - “And this is Blitz and Sophie McKnight.”

Sophie - “Hi! I really like your wings! I have wings too.”

Pixie - *chuckles* “I can see that. They are really nice.”

Blitz - “It’s nice to meet you Pixie. I’m Sophie’s older brother.”

Pixie - “It’s really nice to meet you.”

Charlie - “And this is Husk. He’s the bartender.”

Pixie - “O-Oh but I’m too young to drink…”

Husk - “Relax kid, I don't serve drinks to kids. Unless they want to, I mean I can see the weird boy drinking at 13.”

Sonya - *annoyed* “I’m a girl Husk.”

Husk - *shrugs* “Whatever.”

Charlie - “Umm…This is Niffty who is the housekeeper. We are mostly sure that she’s is 80% harmless.”

Niffty - “Hi! Your wings remind me of all the bugs I kill! *sees one* oooh that one deserves some stabs!!”

Charlie - *chuckles nervously* “Why don’t we draw some pictures?”

()()()()()()()()()

Sonya and Pixie were painting some pictures. Then Pixie finished and said:

Pixie - “Is this good?”

She nervously showed everybody her painting. The painting was pictures of a field with flowers. Everybody stared at it in awe.

Charlie - *amaze* “Wow Pixie! That is amazing!”

Pixie - *shyly turn away and rubs her arm* “Thank you. I-I always like to draw and paint.”

Angel - “So wait if you like sunshine and flowers, how the fuck did you end up here?”

Pixie - “Oh! Umm…I actually hurt animals…Found them annoying. Especially Butterflies. I died when I-I got hit by a car after I pushed a cat.”

Sophie - *shocked* “You hurt animals?! But they are so cute.”

Pixie - “I didn’t think so.”

Charlie - “Well Pixie, I get the feeling you need the hotel to help you change your ways.”

Pixie - *surprised* “You want me to stay?”

Charlie - “Of course! The hotel is about second chances and I can tell you deserve one.”

Vaggie - “Wait, Pixie are you by yourself?”

Pixie - *nod* “Yes. I don’t have my parents with me.”

Charlie - *sympathetic* “Aww…Well don’t worry, we promise to protect and take care of you.”

()()()()()()()()

Outside in the hotel, Charlie, Vaggie, Blitz were outside while Pixie and Sonya were playing tag with Sophie. However, as they were playing, Sophie wasn’t watching where she was going and tripped and fell on the ground.

Blitz - *worried* “Sophie!”

Sophie whimpered and had tears in her eyes. There was a cut on her knee and it was bleeding.

Sophie - *whimpers* “It hurts..”

Just before Blitz can do his healing power, Pixie steps up and gently puts her hand on Sophie’s wound. She closed her eyes and her hand began to glow and the wound was gone. The others were amazed by Pixie's powers. However, Pixie began to wince as Sophie’s wound was now on her knee.

Sonya - “What the heck happened? How did you do that?”

Pixie - *wince* “It’s part o-of my curse. I-I can heal but get the pain.”

Charlie - *sympathetic* “Oh you poor thing. I’ll get you a bandage.”

Sophie - “I’ll help!”

Charlie - *chuckles* “Okay my little nurse.”

Charlie got the first aid kit and Sophie helped her with Pixie’s wound. Then Pixie has an apple design bandage.

Pixie - “Thank you.”

Sophie - *holding her hand* “Come on Pixie, for being a good patient, you get a treat!”

As Sophie led Pixie inside with Sonya following, Vaggie and Blitz looked a bit suspicious of Pixie.

Vaggie - “Charlie, don’t you think that was a bit strange?”

Charlie - *confused*“ What do you mean?”

Vaggie - “She was able to heal Sophie’s wounds.”

Charlie - “But Blitz does that all the time.”

Blitz - “Yeah but that’s different. I’m a hellborn demon. Pixie is a sinner.”

Vaggie - “Don’t you think it’s strange for a sinner to have healing powers?”

Charlie - “Yeah but remember something: she has a curse as well. So whenever she does heal somebody, she gets their injuries as well.”

Vaggie - “Yeah that’s true.”

Blitz - “But I find it strange that what caused her to go to hell was hurting animals. It's usually something more than that.”

Charlie - “I know but she still ended up here alone. The hotel purpose is for second chances and Pixie really deserves it. Plus she looks scared and nervous when we first saw her. Hell can be scary especially for kids.”

Vaggie - *sighs* “Yeah your right Charlie. I just don’t want anything bad to happened.”

Blitz - “Maybe we should still keep an eye on her just in case.”

()()()()()()()()

Over the next few days, Sonya and Liz have been hanging out with Pixie. Spending time with Sonya, Liz, Charlie, and the others actually been helping Pixie as well. She grew less nervous and more open of her feelings and having fun. Even though Vaggie and Blitz kept an eye on Pixie, they thought nothing of her seeing she caused no harm at all.

One day, Pixie and Sonya were playing volleyball at school. Sonya hit the ball and the opponent jumped high and hit the ball with great force. But then Pixie flew and also hit the ball with such great force that the ball hit the other player and got sunk into the ground.

Pixie - “Whoo! We won!”

Sonya - “Awesome job Pixie!”

Liz - “Yeah Shybug! You hit that ball like I would!”

Pixie - *giggled* “Well I did learn from the best.”

Liz - “Oh yeah that’s true. I actually taught her that move.”

Pixie - “Oh! I made you guys something.”

Pixie took out two friendship bracelets. One was a blue one that had a blue heart for Liz, and a yellow one with a yellow heart for Sonya. Both Sonya and Liz looked so touched at this.

Sonya - *touched* “Aw thanks Pixie! It’s so sweet! Oh! Here’s something for you!”

Sonya took out her magic book and said: “Holinua!” And then a pink friendship bracelet with a butterfly came.

Sonya - “I made it pink since it’s your favorite color.”

Pixie - *squeal* “Thank you! I’m gonna change.”

Pixie went to the locker room to change. Song and Liz were looking at their friendship bracelet that Pixie made them. They never really had anything like this.

Sonya - “Pixie is so sweet.”

Liz - “Yeah. She kind of reminds me of Cuz.”

Sonya - “Now that she’s comfortable around us, you think she's ready to meet Rimfire, Raina and Frostbite?”

Liz - “Yeah. I think they will like her.”

Sonya - *noticed something* “Hey Pixie dropped her gloves. *picks it up* better give it back to her.”

Sonya and Liz went to the locker room to look for Pixie. However, they noticed a glowing light. Curious about it, they followed the light, and their eyes widen in shock:

Pixie was in angelic form.

Her skin and new gloves were now white as snow. Her wings and hair are sky blue with white on them. Her dress was blue with yellow swirl designs. Her leggings were white with pink hearts on them, with black Mary Jane shoes and eyes were white even having a halo above her head.

Sonya - *shocked* “P-Pixie…”

Pixie turned around and saw Sonya and Liz with shocked looks on her face.

Pixie - *yelps* “Sonya! Liz! I didn’t know you came-“

Sonya - “You…You were an angel all this time!”

Pixie - *nervous* “No! No! It not like that I-“

Liz - *mad* “You lied to us! Did our friendship mean nothing to you?!”

Pixie - “No no! It did! I really do consider you guys my first real friends! I just…”

Sonya - *sadly* “Oh Pixie…Why?”

Pixie took a deep breath and began to sing:

I know I shouldn’t of have lied

I should of told you the truth on

How I really did died:

The whole hating animals was an

act. I actually do love them all especially

butterflies. One day I saw a cat from afar and sacrificed my life so it wouldn’t be hit by that car.

Even though heaven became my new home, I still felt uncomfortable, shy and alone. I kept hearing how bad hell was so I wanted to see with my own eyes. So I use my powers to see the place where the bad people had died.

At first I was scared, but after meeting you guys and the princess of hell, I actually felt more at ease. This place isn’t actually sad in fact: Hell isn’t as bad.

Sonya - *singing* Hell isn’t as bad but hey what place is perfect? Meeting you made me glad.

Liz - *singing* You accept us for who we are. Not a lot of people do. I used to think Angels were nothing but stuck up bitches but meeting you changed that. You can even see that He’ll isn’t as bad.

Pixie - *singing* “I’m sorry that I lied. But what will your cousin say? What if she gets angry and turns me away?

Sonya - *singing* “You shouldn’t worry because she’s not like that. Because she will now know that you think Hell isn’t as bad.

Liz - *singing* “Our Cuz is forgiving. She’s all about forgiving. She believes in second chances and won’t give you neglectful glances. It will make her happy when she hears how an angel doesn’t think Hell isn’t as bad.”

All three - *singing* “Hell isn’t as bad since meeting each other made us all glad! It shouldn’t matter if you’re a demon or an angel, you can still be friends and care about each other and see places like Hell isn’t as bad!

All three of them stop singing and giggle.

Pixie - “I’m still sorry for lying.”

Sonya - *chuckles* “It’s okay. I know it’s hard to reveal something huge like this.”

Liz - “Yeah. But you’re still cool for an Angel.”

Unknowingly to them, outside the window were two exorcist angels watching them.

Exorcist 1 - “There’s the missing angel!”

Exorcist 2 - “Looks like the demon was keeping her hostage this whole time.”

Exorcist 1 - “Should we report this to Adam?”

Exorcist 2 - “Not yet. We will take care of it first.”

()()()()()()()()()

Sonya, Liz and Pixie were outside of the hotel. Pixie was still feeling a bit unsure.

Pixie - *nervous and rubs her arm “Ooh I don’t know about this. What if your cousin gets mad at me?”

Liz - “Hey, like we told you before: our Cuz is all about second chances.”

Sonya - “She will be a bit surprised, but will understand.”

“Found you!”

They turned around and saw the two Exorcist Angels.

Pixie - *horrified* “The Exorcists!”

Sonya - *shocked* “How the hell they get here?!”

Excorist 1 - “We noticed an little angel girl was missing and saw that she was in hell.”

Excorist 2 - “That when we saw her with you and realized you kidnap her! We are taking her back home.”

Sonya - “No! She’s staying here.”

Exorcist 1 - *chuckles* “Suit yourself, demon. Will fun to have a practice for the extermination.”

Sonya - “Stay back Pixie! We got this!”

Sonya took out her magic spell book and began to say our spells like fire, water, ice, etc. While they took effect, it wasn’t powerful enough to stop the Exorcists. Then one of the Exorcists burnt Sonya’s book to ashes. Just when Sonya was about to prick out her finger to let out Liz, she felt a shock collar around her neck and was lifted up in the air. She saw one of the Exorcists was using a pole connected to an angelic shock collar. Pixie was horrified by this and tried to stop it but was held back by one of the Exorcists.

Inside the hotel, the others were actually discussing plans for the next activity. But they were hearing noises outside.

Husk - *annoyed* “Princess can you tell who ever making the fucking noises to shut the hell up!?”

Charlie - “Calm down Husk. It probably some demons fighting in front of the hotel again.”

When Charlie moved the curtain windows her eyes widened in horror: her baby cousin was in danger by the Excorists!

Sonya tried to pull the shock collar away from her neck. It almost worked but the other Exorcist use the collar around her arms that caused her even more pain and started screaming.

Exorcist 1 - “Look like we got a new test dummy!”

Pixie - *horrified* “NO! STOP!!”

All of a sudden, the window broke and Charlie in her demonic form effortly broke the poles in half like they were toothpicks. Sonya was free, but almost fell to the ground but was caught by Angel Dust who carried her in his arms.

Charlie - *demonic and threateningly* “Touch my baby cousin again, and I’ll tear you two apart, put the pieces back together to make ugly ragdoll!”

Exorcist 1 - *shocked* “What?!”

Exorcist 2 - “What the fuck?!”

Charlie - *furious* “You heard me dipshits! The demon you were hurting is the niece of Lucifer and I don’t think he would be happy to hear heaven break their deal on hurting a hellborn!”

Exorcist 2 - *shocked* “Oh shit! We are so dead!”

Just when Charlie was about to rip those two apart, Pixie said;

Pixie - “Charlie stop!”

Charlie turned and saw Pixie as an angel. This shocked Charlie seeing an angel that wasn’t an exorcist in Hell.

Charlie - *calming down* “Pixie?”

Pixie - “Please don’t fight! It’s all my fault I just wanted to see what Hell is like. *to the Exorcists* I’ll go back to heaven. Please just don’t hurt them anymore.”

The Exorcists opened the portal to heaven. Charlie said:

Charlie - “Wait Pixie!”

Pixie - *regretfully* “Tell Sonya that’s I’m sorry.”

Charlie - “Wait!”

But it was too late. Pixie flew up in heaven along with the two Exorcists. The portal closed and Charlie looked really sad. Then Angel said:

Angel - *concerned* “Charlie. Your cousin doesn’t look too good.”

Charlie turned and saw her baby cousin unconscious in Angel’s arms. She had bruises and burnt marks on her. Even Liz looked worried and scared for her sister.

Charlie - “We gotta call her parents now!”

()()()()()()()()

Sonya moans a bit and she opened her eyes halfway. Sonya saw she was in her hotel room and in bed covered with a blanket. She felt a bit dizzy and then her eyes widen as she remembered something:

Sonya - *loud raspy* “PIXIE!”

Then Sonya began to cough as Liz came out in her shadow form.

Liz - “Oh thank Uncle Lucifer you’re okay! But take it easy sunshine you’re burnt out.”

The shout out had Charlie, Sonya and Liz’s parents Azarel, and Zella rushing in. They were relief to see that Sonya was okay.

Charlie - “Thank Dad you’re okay. We were so worried about you.”

Zella - But you shouldn’t of speak as your throat is still weak”

Sonya - *winces* “What happened?”

Azarel - “Those evil Exorcists came and hurt you. Charlie came to save you. *darkly* Those bastards were lucky I wasn’t there cause I would have torn them limb from limb!”

Charlie - *nervously chuckles* “Take it easy Uncle Azarel.”

Liz - “You were out for a couple of hours. But Mom patched you up.”

Sonya then noticed some had a couple of bandages on her, and her throat was wrapped in gauze bandage as well. Even saw that she was in her pajamas.

Zella - “Your father and I will stay here for a few days.”

Sonya - “But what about Pixie?”

Charlie, Liz, Azarel and Zella all looked at each other with unease. They didn’t know how to break it to Sonya. Especially with the injuries she had suffered.

Charlie - *sighs* “Sweetheart, Pixie had to go back to heaven.”

Sonya - *shocked* “What?”

Liz - *sad* “It’s true. She had to go back home.”

Zella - “She didn’t want an ugly fight so she went back to the heaven lights.”

Sonya was shocked and devastated. Her friend had to go back home. Even though Pixie was Angel, she still didn’t deserve to go back home by force. Sonya looked at her friendship bracelet Pixie made her, lied back down on her bed, turned to her side, and silently began to cry. Liz noticed and gave her a hug to comfort her. Charlie, Azarel and Zella felt sorry for her and Azarel said:

Azarel - *comforting* “Oh it’s okay sweetie. I know it hurts that Pixie had to leave but it’s not as bad.”

Sonya - *whimpers* “H-How you know?”

Zella - “Your father is right honey, there sometimes people stay and then they have to go away. But it’s not always forever.”

Charlie - “Yeah! Maybe there’s a chance that Pixie can come back. And you can always remember the good times you had together.”

Sonya - *smiles a bit* “That’s true. *to her parents* Are you guys upset that she was an angel?”

Azarel - “Nah you can be friends with whoever you want. As long as they aren't sickos.”

Zella - “What matters is that she makes you happy. Now you need some rest so you can feel less crappy.”

Zella gently push Sonya down on her bed and tuck her in. Gave her a kiss on the forehead and left the room. Azarel said:

Azarel - “We will be the room across yours in case you need us.”

Azarel and Zella left the room to go to their hotel room. Charlie then said to Sonya:

Charlie - “I’m glad you’re okay. But I’m sure you will see Pixie again. The actions she pulled is proof that your friendship is genuine.”

Charlie gently gave her baby cousin a hug and left the room. Sonya looked at her friendship bracelet and smiled at it.

Liz - “Cuz is right. Shybug actually did care because she tried to stop the right and didn’t act like a snob toward demons.”

Sonya - *smiles* “Yeah. I’m sure we will see her again.”

Sonya took off her bracelet and put it under her bed.

Sonya - “See you soon Pixie.”

Sonya smiled and fell asleep. Hoping that someday she will see her angelic friend

Hope you all like it!

#hazbin hotel #my fanfic #pixie #Sonya #Liz #my ocs

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astridellejo · 1 month

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A couple of people in my dance class are taking some time to learn a little bit of ASL so that they can understand me when I'm signing, which is so cool! I feel like I've actually become more chatty now that my primary mode of communication is ASL. But I'm still very new at this, and very far away from anything resembling fluency. My signing may seem fast to the average speaking/hearing person, but I'm well aware that it's slower than molasses in the arctic to a fluent signer.

I did eventually figure out how to make my iPad talk so I can use it as a makeshift AAC device. But that's slow and the volume on the tablet often isn't loud enough for people to hear. Plus it takes time to type out my thoughts. I know enough ASL now that it's often much faster and easier for me to sign instead of use text-to-speech. Unless I have to discuss something complex using sign vocabulary I don't know yet. It seems my reality of no longer having a functioning voice is finally starting to sink in. It only took seven months.

What throws the speaking/hearing folk off is that my hearing still works. Mostly. It's about 75% of what it used to be. I can't hear my dance instructor in the gym, and a lot of people sound like Charlie Brown's teacher sometimes in busy environments. What can I say? I'm old now and I've listened to a lot of loud music. But when I start signing around speaking/hearing people, they immediately conclude that I'm deaf and stop talking completely. I mean it makes sense. Sign language is by d/Deaf people for d/Deaf people. Why the hell would someone who can hear use sign language? Right? (Well, I mean there are reasons, but do I want to get into that with the uni student working at the pharmacy while I'm trying to get my prescription refilled? Not really.) Should I bother trying to explain to speaking/hearing folk that I can still hear them? Would it even matter? Because they still wouldn't be able to understand what I'm signing.

I feel like I'm in this weird in-between space with ASL. I mean here's this incredibly useful and helpful visual language I can use in place of communicating orally (since I can't anymore because thanks spasmodic dysphonia), But technically it's not for me. Ya know? There's this whole culture and history attached to it that I'm learning about (and it's fascinating and gives me a whole new reason to hate the telephone), but it's a culture I'm not a part of and can't be a part of because my earholes still function enough to comprehend oral communication.

Is not being able to talk even a disability? Oh no! Can't talk! What a bummer! This is an absurd disability! But it is a disability because it hinders my ability to do basic things like, I don't know, chat with the cute check-out girl at the grocery store or whatever. I can't make or receive phone calls (oh no so tragic [sarcastic sadface emoji]). I can't tell my friends about the cool show I just watched unless I have my tablet with me for assisted communication. I can't narrate my YouTube videos. (That one is kinda frustrating.) I can't hum to my favorite music. Ugh!

Okay, this post kind of got away from me. I guess I have thoughts I still need to work through about losing my ability to speak and where that puts me socially. While it is indeed a disability, I don't really consider it a loss. More of an inconvenience. Because now I'm the one who has to bend over backward to make myself comprehensible to the world at large. And that's a little annoying.

So I'm grateful that there are people out there who are willing to meet me halfway by taking the time to learn sign language. Seriously. Go learn sign language. It's the best! I love it!

#sign language #american sign language #asl #spasmodic dysphonia #speech loss #disability #mutism

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watchmenanon · 1 year

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Perfect Stranger: Noah Schnapp

from STATUS Magazine August 2017 feat. Finn Wolfhard and Noah Schnapp

by STATUS Magazine

We’ve been teased enough by his character’s appearance in the first season of Stranger Things, but actor Noah Schnapp promises a whole lot of weirder things happening next season, now that he’s in the picture.

Not a lot of 12-year-olds spend their day like how actor Noah Schnapp would normally spend his. His life is now a mix of his definition of normal and crazy. Starting his day with breakfast and a photo shoot perfectly contrasts his summer trip to Camp Echo Lake, wherein he got to spend time with his friends for seven weeks before starting a good amount of promo, advertisement, and photo shoot requirements. Everything suddenly turned out to be a bit of a whirlwind for Noah when Netflix’s original sci-fi hit Stranger Things aired, where he plays Will Byers, the kid who was lost and eventually found; although when he was saved from the Upside Down, something wasn’t quite right.

Noah caught the acting bug when he saw Annie on Broadway. “I remember watching the show and I really loved it. When I saw the main character on Broadway acting on stage, I really felt like I wanted to be on that stage. I wanted to be in front of the audience and not be one of the audience,” Noah recalls. At 7 years old, he took acting classes mainly for fun; however, as he progressed, he grew to love what he was doing and realized that he could actually make a career out of it. “My teacher recommended that I try getting into the acting industry—that’s when I started auditioning for several roles,” shares Noah. Two years ago, he landed the role as the voice of Charlie Brown in The Peanuts Movie, which he thought was an enjoyable thing to do. “I think it’s awesome when you’re voicing a cartoon character because you get to work one-on-one in a small booth with a director. He’s right there in front of you the whole time, guiding you while you’re saying your lines, which you can do as many times as you want until you get it right. You can be crazy and take a lot of roles,” he says.

Next came what threw Noah in together with a bunch of kids to become some of the brightest pop culture stars of the moment. He reminisces how he met some of the casts of Stranger Things two and a half years ago. “I met them one after the other in different places. I met Caleb [McLaughlin] in LA for the first time, and I met all the other kids on set one by one.

Everyone flew in on different days. We all didn’t know each other and we just knew that we were making this small show for one season. And we would shoot like forever; we were together, seeing each other every single day, and we just formed a close bond.” He continues, “We have a group chat, we do sleepovers, and talk to each other all the time.” In between shooting the show, Noah has done a lot of TV guestings and award show appearances with his Stranger Things co-stars and was also featured in Panic! at the Disco’s music video for their song “LA Devotee.” It’s all happening for Noah, but the kid is eager to remain an ordinary kid though living in his newly found strange and crazy life.

Q: What is it about acting that you like the most?

A: My favorite part about acting is I can be someone totally different and transform into another character. I get to try out this whole new world and time, and I find that really cool. I’m a normal kid but I can play someone who has a disability, who’s being abused, or who’s from another era.

Q: How do still keep normalcy in your life despite the fact that Stranger Things is such a huge hit?

A: It’s been crazy because when the show came out, I was in summer camp. We don’t have technology when we’re in camp so when I came out of camp, I realized that it turned out to be a big show, that I have all these followers on Instagram, and that I have people coming up to me on the streets. It’s really just my parents who are keeping me grounded and I still go to a normal school, keep a normal life, and just try to be as normal of a kid as possible.

Q: What’s the best part of being in Stranger Things?

A: My favorite part about being in the show is that I get to be around a bunch of kids, and that we can play and just have fun while we shoot.

Q: How will your character evolve in the second season without telling us too much?

A: In the second season, Will definitely has a larger role and he’ll be part of every character’s storyline. They will show how the aftermath of Will coming out from the Upside Down affected him. He will have a lot of emotionally-challenging scenes.

Q: Is there anything that you and Will have in common?

A: Will is very close to his brother and they do a lot of things together, and I have a twin sister named Chloe and we’re very close to each other too. I can relate whenever his brother would help him when things don’t go well.

Q: What’s the craziest fan theory about Stranger Things that you’ve seen online?

A: I think there’s this video that I saw on YouTube that someone said Hopper and Joyce would get together. I love it when people make couple theories like who would marry who or who would get together, I just find it very funny.

Q: Do you have a favorite character in the show other than Will?

A: My favorite character would be Eleven because she’s a freak and she doesn’t care. She has superpowers; she’s like the hero of the show. She’s cool.

Q: With the success of everything that you’ve been doing career-wise, what major changes did it bring to your life?

A: I started the show two and a half years ago and didn’t know a lot. And just growing up in the show together with such amazing people like Winona Ryder, David Harbour, and the Duffer brothers, I get to learn new tips and tricks at a very young age.

Q: What are you excited about this year?

A: Definitely for the second season of the show to come out. We’ve been filming so much and it’s been crazy; everyone worked so hard on the second season and it looks so great. I’m just waiting for it to come out and see how everyone would react to it.

issuu

#noah schnapp #will byers #st articles #byler #<target audience

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satelitis · 9 months

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okok so this is gonna be all of my hs2 comments throughout the season

!! HEARTSTOPPER S2 SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT !!

TAO AND ELLE 🤬 get your asses together already

omg imogen she is so pretty !!!

who the hell is this guy?

nooo they’re separated!!! ))):

BEN GO THE HELL AWAYYYYY STOP TALKING TO MY BOYFRIWND ABOUT HIS BOYFEIWND

:0 CHARLIE IS REJOINING RUGBY??!

EW HARRY GO AWAY 🙄

why is charlie the only one in different clothes—

STOP YELLING AT NICK NEOW

OMG TARA AND DARCY MY FAV LESBEANS BESIDES DORCAS AND MARLENE IYKYK

ew elle is weirdly flirting w/ tao 🤨

omg if my bf doesn’t get me oreos for our 2 month anniversary then i don’t want it 🤦‍♀️😐😐

OMG CHARLIE RWMEMBERD NICKS FAV CHOCOLATE SHHEJEJEHHWHEHHEHEHEHEBS

NOW THEY ARE MAKING OUT IN THE LOVKER ROOM AND ALMOST GOT CAUGHT 🫢

🎶BOYKISSSERRRRRRR 🎶

“No more kissing at school 😡 it’s too risky 😣”

OMG TORIII ML 🫶🏼

OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OUT OF MY LEAGUE BY FATT SNJSJSJSKENNENSNEJSNSNSNNBDDBDBDBBSSBBSBEHSHEHHEB THIS SONG OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMYOMGOOMGOMYOMYOMGOMGOMYOMGOMGOGMOGMGOGKMTOTKTOTRNWJHWBSGWGWGWGWHWBHWBWBWNSNSBSNWB I LOCE THIS SONG CAUSE U ARE OUTTA MY LEAUGEWEEE ENJSJSJSNENNENSBEB SCREAMING HEHSBEHEBEBBEHDHEHEHEHEHSVSBEHEBEBBEBEBEBEB OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG ok i’ll shut up now

omg issac—

CAUSE U ARE OUT OF MY LEAUGE ALL THE THINGS I BELIEVE YOU ARE JUST THE RIGHT KIND YEHA U ARE MORE THAN JUST A DEEAM!!!

omg they invited imogen 🥺🥺

omg charlie tryna help nick come out to imogen is everything 🥺🥺

WHAT THE FUCK TAO AND ELLE ABT KISSED?!?

pov nick:

OMG IMOGEN KNOWS ABOUT NICK AND CHARLIE —

“i’m bisexual actually” 😜

FUCK NO NOT IMOGEN HAVING A CRUSH ON BEN🫣💀

take a drink everytime i say omg

:0 THEY KUST KISSED INNFRONT OF EVERYONE well they’re friend group but still

“bye” 😋

“bye” 🤭

charlies parents need to gtfo—

“no hankypanky” SHUT THE HELL UPPPP

EPISODE 2!!

charlies teachers need to get out

uhm charlie’s mom gtfo now let them be gay around each others houses

IGH EW NICKS STUFID BROTHER 🙄

awww their texts ))):

OMG TAO AND ELLE JUST NEED TO CONFESS ALREADY LIKE TAO BETTER ASK ELLE TO PROM OR I WILL BE THROWING HANDS

ew ben ugh GO AWAYYYY 😤

“i told you my rules and now you’re here till the end of the day😐” SHUT THE FUCK UP

…

….

BEN COME HERE IM THROWING HANDS I AM TAKING MY FUVKING SWEATSHIRT OFF AND I WILL PULL THAT BROWN SHIT ASS HAIR OUT OF YOUR SCALP AND DRAG YOU THROUGH THE RUDGBY FIELD BY YOUR NOSE HAIR

anyway 🤭

you and nick are NOTHING alike get that through you’re dumb thick ass scull

ACTUALLY DAVID HE DOES AHVE A GF ALA ME AND HE ALSO HAD A BF NAMED CHARLIE SO GTFO

omg felix 🥰🥰🥰

naomi !!! 😚

we love taos mom <33

“is that elle? she’s so pretty!! :DD” omg :(((

bens gonna throw hands w/ nick i just know it

awwwh charlie snuck out again!!

taos smile is so cute

DAVID STAY TF AWAY FEOM CHARLIE

i can definitely tell who got the good genes

:0 HE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT…..

I- omg

“i just wanted to meet the guy who turned my little brother gay” STFUUUUUUU 😤

olivia coleman better drag his ass

Charlie )): babes you gotta eat… )): i feel so bad for him ☹️

awh the voice memo ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️💗💗💗💗

EPISODE 3.

OMG TAO COMING TO TERMS W/ HIS FEELINGS 💗💗💗💗💗

“ik you and charlie are really good mates 😄”

the coach just walked in on them lmaooo

we stan the coach!!! and her wife 💐💐

OMG THEY FINSIHER THE EXAMS AND HISOry thing!!

OMG TARA!! she just… oh no… i mean oh yes but in an oh no way ://

THE GAY TEACHERS HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE

omg a boy just invited issac to the party hehehehe

they really thought they did something by not letting the boys and girls share a room

tara, darcy, nick, & charlie :

OMG TAOS HAIR I—

OMG OMG OMG OMGOMGOGKGMFNT HE JUST ASKED HER OUTTTTTTT 🫢

AWWW AYYAYAYAAYTAYAYAYYYYYTTTTTTTYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

awh he is willing to go see a movie he hates but she loves just for her )):

“Look after him or you die :))”

why the fuck are those popcorn things so huge?

oh no oh no oh no oh no tao and elle nononononononononononononono )):

i hate this fucking party i would break down then and there that is WAY too overstimulating

toriii stopp )))):

oh my god i need to skip a couple scenes one sec

ok phew they’re just having tea now

*sighs*

EPISODE 4.

kit conner speaking french is EVERYTHING

everyone being so surprised nick can speak french is so funny.

BEN YOU FUVKING RAT CALL IMOGEN A BITCH AGAIN AND I WILL DRAG YO STANKY ASS RN AND PULL UR HAIR WE WILL BATTLE IT OUT RN NO BOXING GLOVES DISS MY BABES IMOGEN AGAINANDN I WILL DRAG YO FUVKING FAKE ASS

anyway

EPISODE 5.

CHARLIE HAS A HIVKEY????

OK SO ELLE KISSED TAO AND CHARLIE IS MEETING NICKS FAD

TARA AND DARCY )):

OKOK DORRY I GOT SO LAZY W/ EPISODES 4&5

EPISODE 6.

tao and elle are so cute 🥰

OMG— NO NOT THE TRUTH OR DARE ARE YALL 5 😭

“I dare charlie to kiss Ben 😻” shut the fuck up

OMG I CALLED THE TRUTH ISTG

OMG NICK IS COMING OUT — OMGOMGOMG IM SO PROUD OF NICK :D WHY AM I CRYING ☹️☹️☹️☹️

darcy has food poisoning 😶

omg they’re adorable wtff

nick is a right side of the bed person…idk how i feel about that tbh

WHAT THE HELL AM I WATCHING I DIDNT SIGN UP FOR THIS—

🫣🫣🫣

ok phew it’s not escalating

:0 oh no. Oh no. do it and i will turn this off bc now i’m scared—

DARCY SAID IT GUYS

ONG GAY TEACHERS GAY TEACHERS GAY TEACHERS GAY TEACHERS KISSING !!!

awwh nick ml )):

EPISODE 7.

TARAS FOLKLORE POSTER IS EVERYTHING

ugh ben just go away

CONGRATS ELLE 🥳🥳🥳

oh no tao )):

I LOVE TAOS MOM SO MUCH!!!! AND NICKS MOM!!!

Charlie’s mom can fuck off tbh

I would kick Charlie’s ass at Mario Kart tbh

“Oh my god they’re gonna kiss!!!” I love darcy sm

UGH BEN STOP BOTHERING CHARLIE FUCKING NUT 🙄

AWH NICK ASKING CHARLIE FO PROMMM

CONANANNANANANANANANAN CONAN CONAN CONAN CONAN CONAN CONAN IM SCREAMING @masivechaos

Awh issac )):

I— NOO TAOO

Issac representing aroace is amazing

OMG KMGOMGOMGOMG CONANANANANANANANANANAN WNWNNANNA CONAN I LOVE TOUUUUUUUUU

i’m so confused

OKAY OKAY

DARCYS MOM FUCK OFFFF

AWHHH OMG ITS SO CUTE THE PAINTING IS ADORABLE I LOVE IT ))):

tao )):

OMG BEN GO THE HELL AWAY YOU FUCKING RAT DIEEEEEE

ben get your half assed apology out of here and go take a shower musty ass

YEAH CHARLIE DRAG HIM BUTN HIM AT THE STAKE 🥳🥳🥳

YEAH YOU DONT HAVR TO FORGIVE HIM!!!

david go away

HES GONNA TELL THE DAD ISTG

oh my god

DAVID SHUT THE FUCK UP 😐 ACTUALLY SHUT THE FUCK UP !

DAVID HUSH DAVID HUSH KEEP YOUR ASS UP

david im gonna kick your ass

AWWWW NICKKK )))):

DRAG THEM NICKS MOM WE LOVE YOU 🫀🫀

AHH WE STAN TORIIII

YAYY CHARLIES MOM IS COMING SEOUND :)))

why are they doing dishes in the dark 🤔

OMG DARCYS MOM GTFO STOP RN OKG OMGOMG DARCY GOT KICKED OUT— i’m crying now what the hell

EPISODE 8.

”Boyfriends ❤️ (Im bi, actually)”

GRAHHHHHH

AWHH TAOOOOOOOOOOO AND ELELEWKWLLWLWLWLWWLelw AHHHHHH MY HEARTTTTTTTT

wait wait where is darcy?????

OMG WE LOVE THE SUPPORTIVE FRIEND GROUPOO

tao and nicks friendship >>>>

AWWW CHARLIE AND NICK IN THE SUITS ARE TOO CUTE ☹️☹️☹️💗💗

OMG THE RADIOHEAD REFERENCES ARE SO 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

awh darcy )):

we love how supportive of a gf tara is!!

omg elle’s dad jsjsjsjej

ELLE IS SO ORETTY!!!!!!

SUMMER OF LOVE THAGS SO CUTE ?!??

THE SET UP IS ADORAVKE ?!?!?

issac bringing a book to prom is everything

nicks friends give me mixed signals but atleast they’re supportive !!

TAO AND ELLE DANCINF ARE SO ADORABKE

GAY TEACHERSSSS

…IMOGEN

OMG DARCY!!!! TARA NOOOOOOO DONT GO TO HER HOUSE ACTUALLY DO GO TO HER HOUSE AND YELL AT HER STUPID MOM!

bitch ass mom 🤥

AWWHHH

crying again 😃

them just saying i love you to each other over and over again ))):

OMG TAYLOR SWIFT , CONAN GRAY & BEABADOOBEE IN THE HEARTSTOPPER SOUNDTRACK?!?!

awh charlie )):

nick helping charlie is everything

OH MY FUCKING GOD— THIS WAS , I JUST , THIS SEASON WAS … IM SO , 9.5/10 BSBSBDBS OK BYE!!

#──★ ˙dals declarations !!

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hallmark-movie-fanatics · 10 months

Text

Hallmark to Premiere Seven Movies in September — See the Full Schedule (Exclusive/TVLine)

Love and murder are in the air this September.

The Hallmark Channel is kicking off its “Fall Into Love”-themed programming blitz with four movie premieres in September featuring very familiar TV faces.

Premiering on Hallmark Channel:

Love in the Great Smokey Mountains: A National Park Romance Premieres: Saturday, September 2 at 8 p.m. ET/PT Synopsis: Former sweethearts (played by The Vampire Diaries’ Zach Roerig and 9-1-1′s Arielle Kebbel) reunite at an archeological dig in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. While working alongside each other and competing for the same research grant, they discover they might still have feelings for one another.

Fourth Down and Love Premieres: Saturday, September 9 at 8 p.m. ET/PT Synopsis: Sparks are reignited when a single mom (played by When Calls the Heart’s Pascale Hutton) and a pro football player (General Hospital’s Ryan Paevey) coincidentally meet again on her daughter’s flag football field after his career is derailed by a injury.

Retreat to You Premieres: Saturday, September 23 at 8 p.m. ET/PT Synopsis: Abby (Chesapeake Shores’ Emilie Ullerup) and Sean (Rookie Blue’s Peter Mooney) were best friends in high school until they had a falling out at their graduation party. Years later, when Abby’s friend Rachel (Sex/Life’s Meghan Heffern) brings her to a wilderness retreat, she is shocked to run into Sean. When then get separated from the group, will they find their way back to the campsite… or back into each other’s arms?

A Very Venice Romance Premieres: Saturday, September 30 at 8 p.m. ET/PT Synopsis: Amy (Defiance’s Stephanie Leonidas) is a New York City executive working for a wellness company trying to launch deliverable meal prep kits. She needs to find an expert to help guide the venture and tries to woo Marcello Barone (Raniero Monaco Di Lapio), an Italian chef. When Amy contacts him, he turns her down, so she enrolls in his cooking school in a Venetian palazzo. Will Amy then return home, or pursue amore?

Premiering on Hallmark Movies & Mysteries:

Guiding Emily Premieres: Friday, September 8 at 9 pm ET/PT Synopsis: Emily (Grey’s Anatomy’s Sarah Drew) sees her life veer off course after an accident leaves her permanently blind and she struggles to cope with her new reality. Meanwhile, a potential guide dog named Garth (voiced by Will & Grace’s Eric McCormack) faces his own struggles in the training department. With Garth by her side Emily takes on her biggest challenge yet, opening her heart. Blood & Treasure’s Anthony Cupo and Nancy Drew’s Sharon Taylor also star.

Haunted Harmony Mysteries: Murder in G Major Premieres: Friday, September 22 at 9 pm ET/PT Synopsis: Former orchestra conductor Gethsemane Brown (Sister, Sister’s Tamera Mowry-Housley) moves to the Irish countryside to teach music at a boarding school. There, she meets a handsome math teacher (Virgin River’s Marco Grazzini) who helps her professionally, and a renowned composer Eamon McCarthy (The Power’s Risteard Cooper) who is rumored to be behind the death of his longtime love. Oh, did we mention that Eamon’s actually a ghost hot to solve his murder? Supernatural’s Adam Fergus also stars.

Mystery Island Premieres: Friday, September 29 at 9 pm ET/PT Synopsis: London Police psychiatrist Dr. Emilia Priestly (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s Elizabeth Henstridge) needs to take a relaxing break from her stressful job, so her wealthy friend invites her to Mystery Island, an immersive murder-mystery-themed resort hosting a special retreat for the original investors. As the mystery game begins, tragedy strikes when the resort’s reclusive founder is murdered. Emilia “partners” with local detective Jason Trent (How to Get Away With Murder’s Charlie Weber) to investigate.

To read the full article over at TVLine click this LINK.

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brooklynislandgirl · 1 year

Note

15. Do you have any piercings?

A Will and A Way || -

For a moment she thinks she has to have misheard Cisco. Not because what he said came across as though he'd been gargling mouth-wash with his lips pressed together while he was underwater. No, rather than the Charlie Brown Teacher sound effects, every word is clear and sharp and absolutely his voice in her ears though he's a respectable distance ~the other side of the table~ from her. Such an unexpected question and heard in a way she's unused to manages to scrunch her face in confusion. First, Cisco is never really comfortable talking about things like that. Idle discourse while they're working ranges the gamut of favourite video games, worst comic adaptations on streaming services, the nature of scientific advancement and the ethics they are bound in. Whenever she teases him about anything personal or untoward he tends to deflect with shyness and humour and in a lot of ways it feels like she's torturing him for no real reason. Second, she can't begin to understand why exactly he was asking. Was he considering getting his own piercings? Is he seeing someone and he needs to get some advice about how to work his way around them? Which brings up a more important question which is why he hadn't mentioned he'd met someone? Since when had she been out of the loop and how had she missed something so huge? "Uh." Ah yes, the eloquence of her intellect. Any day now, they're going to come along and confiscate her S*T *A*R Lab ID card and send her packing. Exactly what the Admiral would expect and would use at his pleasure to flay her alive. She keys in one more sequence before she slides out of her chair and comes around to Cisco's side of the table. This is a show-and-tell matter. She turns her head to the left so he can see her ear plain as day, and the four total she has there. "Lobe, and upper lobe," she says, pointing to the two lowest and most natural looking ones. Today, there's a crescent moon with a jewelled star in the lobe, an actual diamond solitaire in the upper. "Tragus" This is the opal stud in the bit of the ear attached to her upper cheek. Then she touches the silver ring and ball on the upper outer rim of her ear. "Helix." Then she shifts and offers him her right profile and the three there. The bar is the first one she points out. "Industrial." A matching solitaire diamond in the upper lobe, then a sort of tribal faux ruby in the lobe. "Bu wait, dere's more," she winks. She never takes her eyes off his face as she reaches down and unbuttons her jeans from first to last, and shimmies the denim down low enough that he gets a decent view of black lace against her skin. Three little aquamarine studs draw the eye to her narrow hip bone. "Sub-dermal implant. Dis one I got talked into when I was small kine tipsy." John had told her it was for protection. He'd held her head and whispered into her ear until the very last thing she was thinking about was someone cutting into her flesh and implanting metal into her body. If she was honest with herself, she's pretty sure John could have talked her into anything that night, and all the ones that came after before he disappeared from her life. But Cisco doesn't need to know that. To cover the sudden change in her expression, she turns around, back to him, and raises her shirt up a little. "An' I always keep small kine of home with me wherevah I go. Dis is symbolic of my aumakua, my islands, an' dere beauty." She doesn't mention or show him the other tattoos. They haven't gotten quite that close. "Now I'ma beatcha t' da punch an' say… no I don' got nipple piercings or ones…ah… down dere. I don' see da appeal, an' hand f' God, as a medical doctor, havin' dem can actually cause you to eventually lose sensitivity in dose places. So if ya considerin' piecings on ya… bits… my advice is…yeah, naw, brah."

#Mahalo!Tagg <333 #tbd|Cisco Ramon #tbd|Cisco and Beth #S*T*A*RLight|Arrowverse Au #All Our Tomorrows|DC verse #Lost in Translation || N F S W #piercings tw #tattoos tw

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xgoldendays · 2 years

Text

💖

#i’ve been super out of it lately and i’ve come to some realizations #so i’m just taking it day by day but i miss it here and i miss the fandom #hopefully i’ll be back to it soon #actual voice of the teacher in charlie brown

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

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Happiness, I’m sorry you’ve been on hold.

Request: Could you do a one shot of Fred Weasley after the war, where he doesn’t die and actually falls in love with a muggle. And he tells her about wizards and meets his family? Thank you!

A/N: So this is now the longest thing I have ever written. My aim for this was to make it equal parts angst and equal parts fluff because I think Fred deserves all the fluff. Thank you so much for requesting this! I hope I have done it justice! Please read the warnings before reading this fic should anything trigger - you come first, not fic reading. Also, if anyone can name the TV shows I mention in this, you get a gold star! Title from Volbeat - For Evigt. I hope you all enjoy, I know it’s long!!

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of war, depression, insomnia, PTSD, swearing, food, but THERE IS SO MUCH FLUFF - SO MUCH (as well as a bit of steaminess).

Word count: 13.3k

The voices have blurred into a senseless mess; Fred can only just make out the deep timbre of adult males and the high pitched shouts of students. He doesn’t need to hear the words to know that spells are being thrown left, right, and centre.

He does his fair share of fighting; hurling jinx after jinx at any Death Eater he comes upon.

The corridor he runs down is moaning and groaning as if ready to collapse, but Fred continues, his breath coming in pants. His eyes run over the bodies of students and teachers; his heart beginning the painful mourning process then and there.

Someone shouts; he doesn’t know who.

Something creaks; he doesn’t know what.

A brilliant flash of light bounces in front of his eyes, and he feels himself blown away just as the wall beside him starts to collapse.

Whether from shock or from injury, his vision fades to black.

Fred wakes with a start; heart racing, mouth gaping wide in a silent scream, hands gripping the bedsheets in a vice-tight hold.

With his eyes closed, he takes a deep breath before he begins to go through his exercise. An exercise he repeats nightly.

Aloud he says their names like a mantra: “Mum, Dad, Bill, Charlie, Percy, George, Ron, Ginny.”

He does this over and over again until his heart rate calms, and his hands can release the bedsheets.

Fred checks the clock; 3am. He nods, sighing. Three hours sleep.

Fred supposes he should be thankful. After all, it’s three hours more than he got the night before.

He leaves his bed, dragging his feet to the kitchen where with a flick of his wand, the kettle begins to boil, and teabag drops itself into his favourite mug – his only mug.

The Second Wizard War had been over for almost a year now, and for the most part, life had returned to normal. Routines were picked back up and time had simply started to move on.

But Fred felt stuck.

He couldn’t shake the nightmares; keeping the house up with his screams. He couldn’t face opening the shop up despite George’s best attempts at pleading.

He didn’t have it in him to laugh.

He felt broken; as if something vital within him snapped in two the day he avoided the winged clutches of death.

Settling on the couch with his now steeping mug of tea, Fred resigns himself to the fact that he won’t be getting anymore sleep tonight.

The TV plays lowly in the background, a rerun of an old British sitcom set in a prison playing. Fred pays it little to no attention; instead, looking around the small flat he’s called home for the last eight months of his life. The walls are sparsely decorated; a few photos hung up but nothing that screams his personality. His cupboards remain filled just enough for one person, as does his fridge. It’s a flat fit for a hermit; Fred thinks that’s what he’s become.

He decided to leave home two months after the end of the war. When he started to notice the dark circles underneath his mother’s eyes and realised that he was the cause of them – his nightmares and his screams.

Molly cried when he left; worried sick over how he would look after himself and cope. Fred reassured her and made a promise to send letters twice a week – a promise he has yet to break.

George was understandably angry with his twin’s decision, but he knew that deep down that Fred needed to go to heal so he can laugh in the shop once again.

With a tight hug from his parents and siblings alike, Fred began his new life in muggle society.

A frantic knock at his door has Fred spilling his tea and falling out of his reminiscing. Jumping up from the couch, his hand grabs his wand, ready to defend himself should he need to.

His breath comes in quick pants as a result of the adrenaline and panic coursing through his system. The only people who know where he lives are his family with the added bonus of Harry, Hermione and Lee Jordan; no-one else had his address.

The frantic knocking continues; becoming quicker if it was at all possible. Fred swallows past the lump in his throat as he unlocks his door, wrenching it open in a swift movement, ready to confront whatever was on the other side.

Fred wasn’t prepared for it to be you.

You stand in front of his flat with a wild look on your face; equal parts terror and panic. Your hand is still raised in a fist, ready to rain down on the faded red of his door. You only just stop yourself from pounding your fist into his chest.

“Can I help you?” Fred greets.

“I’m so sorry, I know how late it is, but I need your help.”

Fred raises an eyebrow, “What with?”

You toe his welcome mat sheepishly, pointing towards your flat next door to his. “There’s a massive spider in my bathroom and I’m too scared to kill it myself.”

“You’re knocking down my door at this time in the morning for a spider?” Fred asks incredulously.

You glare at him, “This isn’t just any spider, okay? It’s massive; I can practically see its kneecaps!” You huff, placing your hands on your hips, “Will you please help me?”

Fred leans against the doorframe, a smirk gracing his lips, “What’s in it for me?”

You purse your lips; eyes glancing between the red-headed man vexing you and the door to your flat where you know the spider is waiting to make a mockery of you. You sigh, deciding the former is the lesser evil than the latter, “I’ll buy you breakfast.”

“You’ll buy me breakfast for killing a spider?”

You nod rapidly, “Yes, I’ll buy you breakfast, and I’ll even fork out extra for hash browns, just please kill the spider.”

Fred pauses; pretending to think it over in order to annoy you that little bit more. It had been a while since he had taken the time to vex someone; he had to admit he was rather enjoying getting on your nerves.

“Well?” You press, tapping your foot on his welcome mat, “Will you help me or not?”

Fred pushes himself off the doorframe, keeping his wand concealed in his shirt sleeve. He bows at the waist with a cocky smile on his lips, “Lead the way, my lady.”

You roll your eyes at the man; not remembering a time when a man had gotten on your nerves to this extent. You lead him into your flat; his eyes wandering over the heavily decorated walls and the over-filled bookshelves. You pause outside the door to your bathroom, biting your lip as you face the red-haired man, “I last saw it in the sink. It could have moved now.”

Fred nods, “Don’t worry, I’ll find it. Do you have a boot or something I could use?”

You turn away from him, heading back to the entryway where he saw piles upon piles of shoes. “I don’t have a boot,” you start, “but I do have a pair of trainers.”

“They’ll work,” Fred reassures, taking them from your hands.

You throw him a thumbs-up before retreating a few paces into your living room. You haul yourself onto the couch, much to Fred’s amusement, as if the spider is going to come running out of the bathroom to exact its revenge on you for throwing your pot of face cream at it before you sprinted out of your flat.

“Good luck,” You state as Fred opens the door to your bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Fred runs his eyes around your bathroom, looking for the eight-legged arachnid that’s caused this much trouble at this time in the morning. He finds it in no time; still stuck in your sink, unable to make its way up the smooth porcelain sides.

It doesn’t take Fred long to dispose of the spider; trapping it with a spell and flinging it out of the window. For extra measure, and to not alert you to his magic, he slams the trainer down on the tiled floor of your bathroom. Fred even goes so far as to scrunch up some tissue in his hand to make it look as if he had gotten the spider.

If he can avoid it, Fred won’t kill another living creature. In the short span of his life, Fred had seen too much death, and he knows he doesn’t want to be witness to anymore.

Upon opening the door, Fred finds you stood in the exact same place but with a rolled up magazine in your hand. He wants to laugh at the sight, but he can’t dredge up the will to do so. Instead, he holds up the scrunched up tissue and your trainer, declaring, “It’s gone. I got rid of it.”

You jump down from the couch, pottering over to him. The rolled up magazine still in your hand, “It’s in there?”

Fred nods, a little white lie won’t hurt you and he doubts the spider would return. “Do you have somewhere I can put this?” he asks, waving the tissue around.

“Of course, the kitchen is over here.” You lead him to the small kitchenette where he disposes of the empty tissue. You take your trainer off him and Fred claps his hands together as if he’s completed a job well done.

“Right,” He starts, “If you don’t need me for anything else…”

Your eyes widen as if suddenly aware what time it is and how long you’ve kept him, “Of course!” you cry, “I didn’t realise the time, you’ll want to be getting back to sleep. Thank you for all your help…” you trail off, realising you don’t know his name.

“Fred. My name is Fred.”

“Fred,” You smile, “I’m (Y/N).”

“I’m glad I could help, (Y/N),” Fred says, making his way to your door, “I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast.”

You frown, “Breakfast?”

“You owe me? For killing the spider, remember?”

You hold your hand to your forehead, “Yes! I remember. How does meeting at half past nine sound? I want to get some sleep before I meet you again.”

“Half nine it is. I’ll see you then.” Fred says as goodbye, shutting your front door behind him and making his way back to the couch that had been calling his name since he left it.

The TV has moved on now; showing another rerun of an old sitcom – this one about two brothers hustling their way through life in a borough of London. Fred rather likes this show, having gotten hooked his first month in muggle life. He turns the volume up, taking a sip of his now cold tea.

Fred tries to pay attention to scene currently playing; the brother’s elderly uncle unscrewing the fastenings to a very expensive chandelier they’ve been hired to clean. Little do they know they’ve got their wires crossed and disaster is about to strike.

Fred pays little attention to this, but rather than return to the wallowing he found himself in earlier, he lets himself think of breakfast tomorrow.

His eyes begin to flutter shut; the lack of sleep finally catching up to him. He slumps down onto the couch, reaching for the blanket he keeps draped across the back of it for this very reason, and he throws it across himself. He takes one last look at the television to see that the brothers had been underneath the wrong chandelier their elderly uncle was loosening, and he falls asleep with the thought of breakfast running through his mind.

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

Fred is ready too early; he knows he is.

He also thinks he’s overdressed but he doesn’t let himself think too much into that issue.

Another nightmare had awoken him an hour after he fell back asleep in front of the TV. Fred wasn’t too resigned though; four hours sleep in one night was the most he had gotten in a while. He was going to count this as a win.

For a while, he remained on the couch, flicking through the channels hoping to find something other than telly shopping. He skipped over the news channels, not needing to hear anything about muggle society that could potentially send him further into his spiral. He ran a hand over his face as he turned off the TV; he had moved away from home to start getting better; to start the healing process yet he felt as if he was only making things worse.

Before he could let himself dwell further on that subject, he hauled himself into the shower. Taking extra time to scrub at his hair and body; making himself look presentable for breakfast with you.

Fred took extra care in picking out his clothes. Once dressed, he did feel overdressed for the occasion, but as he sits on the couch, watching the hands on his analogue clock tick by slowly, he’s more bothered by the fact that he’s ready over an hour early.

He sighs as he watches the second hand make another circuit around the clock; one less minute to go, he thinks wryly to himself.

If his mother could see him now, Molly Weasley would proceed to smack him with a tea-towel before offering her advice on the matter. Thoughts of his mother has Fred overwhelmed with a strong sense of missing her. He misses his mother more than he misses anyone; how she would always have food on the table and tea ready to drink, how she would push back his hair from his forehead so she could kiss him there. She would do that a lot when the nightmares were very bad; she would sit with him on the couch where he had exiled himself after waking George up too many times – she would run her hands through his hair in a comforting manner, kissing his forehead as his eyes would start to droop. Molly would only let herself rest once her beloved son was sleeping somewhat peacefully.

Fred thinks of this memory as he digs around his flat for some spare parchment and a self-inking quill. He had already sent his two letters for the week, but Molly would be delighted to receive a third unexpectedly.

Quill scratches on parchment for some time. Fred inquires after the wellness of his siblings – did Charlie pull his finger out and ask out Evie? How was Ron and Hermione? How was Dad? Would he like any more of the muggle sweets he’s become so fond of?

Fred asks the inane questions before asking about George. Fred knows that George loves him; they’re twins, they’re closer than any other sibling would hope to be. George knew Fred’s moods like the back of his hand and he only wants the best for his brother. Which is why Fred struggles with the guilt at leaving George to cope with the joke shop alone. George has reassured him that it’s okay, that he needs to take time and the shop will always be here when he’s ready to come back.

But it still doesn’t lessen the guilt that sits in his stomach like a lead balloon.

Black ink covers his hand by the he’s finished his letter; finishing his letter with the news of breakfast with someone he could see being a good friend. That would be enough to quash his mother’s worries that he doesn’t leave his flat enough. He seals the envelope with wax, making a mental note to go to a wizarding post office after breakfast so he can send it off in express time to his mother.

Cracking his knuckles – a nasty habit he picked up at Hogwarts – Fred checks the time to see that it’s almost half past nine. He slips on his denim jacket, tucking his letter into an inside pocket, patting it to reassure himself it’s there.

As he’s locking up the door, he sees you exiting your flat. Fred realises that when you aren’t dressed in mismatched pyjamas with a terrified look on your face, you’re rather beautiful.

You hurry over to him; your bag bouncing against your hip as you come to a stop in front of him. “Good Morning,” you greet.

“Good Morning. How did you sleep? Any more spiders?”

You direct your gaze to the floor, feeling somewhat sheepish in the light of day, “I know I said it last night, but thank you again. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep if you hadn’t have got it.”

Fred smiles softly, “I didn’t mind. Besides, I get breakfast out of it.”

You perk up, “That you do! Off we go then.”

You lead him out of the building, continuing on the main road before turning left and then a right. Fred follows you all the way; making small attempts at idle conversation which you gladly take up, chatting to him about anything and everything as you lead him down a side street to where a small café sits.

The bell above the door chimes happily as you enter the building, holding the door open for Fred to duck in first.

You lead him to a table by the window that’s big enough for two. He pulls out your chair for you, letting you sit first before shrugging off his jacket and hanging it over the back of his chair. Fred may have been a little shit through his childhood and adolescence, but he had listened to his mother when she explained the etiquette for dining with a lady whether it be breakfast, lunch or dinner.

Menus are handed to the both of you by a waitress who looks to be wanting to be anywhere but here right now. Fred sympathises with her a little; remembering the early starts for the shop. They order their food in no time; you ordering a latte and Fred ordering a Yorkshire Tea to go with your Full English’s with extra hash browns.

You grin at him from across the table, “Thanks for agreeing to this.”

“Thanks for offering.”

“Did you get back to sleep okay after I woke you up?” You asks, face lined with worry.

Fred nods, clearing his throat, “I nodded back off, yeah.”

You sigh with relief, “That’s good, I’m glad.”

“Did you sleep okay?”

“I slept very well in my spider-free flat, yes.”

You fall silent as your drinks are placed in front of you with a promise that your food would be with you shortly. Fred smiles at the waitress in thanks as she leaves.

He turns his attention back to you, “How long have you lived in the building? I’m sure I would have seen you before.”

You wave a hand nonchalantly, “Not very long, I moved in a couple of months ago. How long have you lived there?”

Fred sips at his tea, adding a dash of sugar and milk before answering, “Around eight months now.”

You nod at his answer, taking a drink of your latte. The caffeine was needed; the adrenaline from the spider incident had taken a while to leave your body, leaving you tossing and turning in your bed and providing you more opportunity to think about the red-headed neighbour you had just met.

“I’m going to propose an idea.”

“Oh?”

“I say we play twenty-one questions and get to know each other.”

“Get to know each other?”

You blink at him, “Yes. We’re neighbours and we’re having breakfast. What else should we talk about? The weather?”

Fred glances out the window at your words, a slow smile spreading over his face. “Well the weather is particularly lovely for London.”

You hush him, “That’s not very neighbourly of you.”

“Perhaps I’m not very neighbourly,” Fred taunts.

You gasp dramatically, “I refuse to believe that. If you weren’t neighbourly, you would have shut the door in my face last night.”

Fred raises an eyebrow, “Would you have started to knock again if I did?”

You purse your lips, repressing a smile, “Maybe.”

“Then I simply helped to lessen the noise.”

You scoff, “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“You don’t have to.”

You glare at him, “Fred, stop being an arsehole and let me get to know you.”

Fred barks out a laugh, covering his mouth at the volume of the noise, “Well, when you put it like that. What do you want to know?”

You beam at him, and Fred can’t help but smile back. “How old are you?” you ask.

“I’m 22.”

“Are you at university?”

Fred shakes his head, “I thought I was supposed to ask the next question.”

You level him with a look, “Answer this one and then you can ask the next one.”

“Alright, but you can’t go jumping in with another question before I’ve asked mine. No, I’m not at university,” You open your mouth to interrupt but close it when you remember Fred’s words. He smiles at you, “How old are you?”

“You can’t repeat questions!”

“Why not?” Fred asks, affronted, “It’s only fair I know your age too!”

“Fine,” you mutter, “I’m 22 as well. 23 in a month.”

Fred nods, waiting patiently for your next question. You open your mouth, the words ready on the tip of your tongue but the waitress returns with your breakfast. The very smell of it has Fred’s stomach rumbling; he hadn’t a cooked breakfast like this since he left the Burrow. He digs in with renewed vigour; repressing a moan at the taste of the fried bread.

“It’s good, isn’t it?”

Fred nods, unable to reply due to the mouthful of food he’s chewing.

You nod in understanding, swallowing your mouthful before saying, “I found this place in my final year of university; I needed somewhere that reminded me of my mum’s breakfasts. Her breakfasts will always be number one, but this comes pretty close.”

Fred pauses with a forkful of scrambled egg halfway to his mouth, “That’s what I miss most about home – my mum and her cooking.”

“Are you not from London originally?” You asks around a mouthful of bacon.

Fred shakes his head, “Devon originally. A tiny village in the county; it’s more of a hamlet really.”

Your eyes widen; eyebrows flying into your hairline, “Devon? That’s a while away. How often do you get to see your family?”

“Not as often as I’d like.” Fred says, drinking his tea.

For a moment, it’s silent between the two of you. The scraping of cutlery on plates being the only sound. Fred thinks of his family as he eats his breakfast; wondering what their plans are for the day – whether they’d be gnome hunting or playing quidditch or simply helping Molly with her vegetable garden. His heart hurts as he thinks of them; overcome with the absence of them from his life. It makes him shiver as he reaches for another drink of tea.

Fred breaks the comfortable silence, “What about you? Where are you from originally?”

“Lancashire originally but I moved to the south when I was young – it’s why my accent is so odd.”

Fred frown; he hadn’t noticed anything odd about your accent, thinking the way that you pronounced your vowels was similar to the way young Neville Longbottom does his, but yours are cut shorter.

“Tell me,” He starts, “Do you see your family as often as you’d like?”

“You’re going to repeat my every question, aren’t you?”

Fred grins, “Maybe… Maybe not. You’ll have to stick around to find out. Now, do you see your family as often as you’d like?”

You shake your head, “Not really. My parents like to travel a lot; a cruise here, a two week holiday there, a road trip across America through the summer. I don’t blame them though; they worked hard for the time they have now. I just wish they’d drop in more.”

“Are you rich?” Fred asks before he can stop himself. He cringes as the words leave his mouth.

You chuckle at the awkward expression on his face, “I’m not. My parents are. I’m a humble student working towards their master’s degree. My father created his company in printing greeting cards; he sold it off a few years back for a lot of money and they’ve been enjoying themselves since.”

“You’re a master’s student?” Fred asks; his knowledge on muggle degrees somewhat limited to what Hermione had told him.

You nod, scraping up the last forkful of food on your plate. “Yeah, I’m getting my master’s in Library Science.”

“What do you hope to do after that?”

“Work in a library or well, continue to work in a library, I already work at my university one. I’d love to work in an archives one day though, cataloguing pieces of history.”

Fred nods, enraptured by your words. He didn’t realise how much choice there was for muggles and their education. The wizarding world was somewhat limited to how witches and wizards could harness their talents; Fred and George were practically pariahs for choosing to dedicate their lives to pranks and happiness. He had always assumed the muggle world worked in the same way, but here you were, proving him wrong.

Knives and forks are crossed on plates when you ask, “You aren’t a university student, so you must have a job. What do you do for a living, Fred?”

Fred decides a kernel of truth wouldn’t do too much harm, “I own a joke shop with my twin brother.”

You laugh, clapping your hands together, “That’s incredible! Is the shop here in London?”

Fred nods, “It is. My twin brother is running it for the time being.”

“Can we go see it?”

Fred freezes; he hadn’t anticipated this. He glances down at the watch wrapped around his wrist then back up at you, not missing the glint of mischief in your eyes. “Perhaps another time?” he suggest, “I have some errands I need to run today that I can’t avoid.”

You lean back in your chair, feeling somewhat sad but you shake it off. “Of course, but I’ll hold you to that Fred. I won’t rest until I see your shop.”

Fred grins, “I have a feeling you’ll stick to your word.”

You move to reply but are interrupted by the waitress coming by to collect your plates and ask if you want anything else. She leaves the bill behind when her question is declined. Fred reaches for his wallet, but you stop him by snatching the bill.

“I made you a promise last night. Breakfast for your excellent services.”

Fred rubs a hand across the back of his neck, “I feel bad letting you pay.”

“Aren’t you a gentleman?” You tease, “No, I said I would buy you breakfast so I’m buying you breakfast. You can buy it next time.”

“So there’s going to be a next time?”

You shrug, biting your lip. “Sure – you might need my services for something. A blocked pipe or a blow fuse.”

Fred stands, pulling on his denim jacket, patting his inside pocket to find that his letter is still there.

You walk back to the main road together; waving goodbye to him as you head towards your university and he to a side street where he can apparate to the nearest wizarding post office. Fred hands his letter over to the clerk, paying a few extra knuts for express delivery.

Fred takes his time walking back to his flat; enjoying the spring day that was blooming around him. He felt lighter as he walked; as if he didn’t need to put as much effort into putting one foot in front of the other. He put it down to you and your presence; there was something about you that evoked all sorts of emotions from him. There was something about you that made him want to see you again.

However, he knew by tonight, the familiar fog will have settled over him – dulling the light of everything around him. He knew that he would still struggle to sleep; being lucky enough to get even an hour in before being pulled to consciousness kicking and screaming his way out of the same nightmare.

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

His time over the next month is split three ways. He spends a third of it on his couch; watching old reruns of sitcoms – his new favourite being set in second muggle war and follows the Home Guard; Fred finds himself whistling the theme song more often than he’d like to admit. He uses his time on the couch to write his letters to Molly who was thrilled at the aspect of Fred making a friend; she wrote question after question about wanting to know their star sign to their hair colour. Fred smiles fondly; a smile reserved only for his mother – one that got even bigger when a second owl arrived with a small note with another question. Through all of her excited questioning, Molly forgot one crucial detail – what was their name?

He spends the second third of his time running. Fred had always been sporty; had always had an athletic build that helped him gain his spot on the Gryffindor Quidditch team as a Beater with George on the team too. However, there are few places in muggle London where he can play the sport freely, so he gets it into his head to pretend to train for a match. Fred begins to run; every morning and every evening. Two runs a day, seven days a week. The runs on an evening tire out his body so he has more of a chance of falling into bed with the hopeless prayer of a dreamless sleep uttered from his lips. However, the runs on a morning are more frantic as he runs off the excess adrenaline and panic running through his system as a result of the night terror his mind unleashed upon him, dragging him from sleep less than two hours after his eyes closed.

Then Fred spends the final third of his time with you. In your flat or walking around Hyde Park or visiting your university.

Fred finds himself spending more and more time with you; he starts to crave your company. And he feels ridiculous for feeling that way because he’s only known you for over a month and he should be using this time to start the healing process.

But he’s already told his mother about you; and who isn’t to say that he can’t work on healing from the trauma of the war with you by his side being a warm, comforting presence?

Fred sits on his couch at nearing two in the morning; questioning his entire existence and reasoning for moving to muggle society when he realises that whilst it’s only been just over a month, if he wants to start healing with you by his side, he needs to be entirely honest with you.

He needs to confess.

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

Fred inhales a deep breath before knocking on your door. He shuffles from side to side, nerves rioting in his stomach. In less than a minute, you’ve wrenched open your door, smiling widely as you take in Fred standing before you.

“Freddie! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

He holds his hands behind his back as he rocks back onto his heels, “Do you want to go on a walk?”

Your eyes run over his face; taking in the dark circles underneath his eyes. He had told you about his insomnia soon after the friendship began; it worried you, but Fred had reassured you that he had it controlled. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”

Fred nods, “That, and I really need to talk to you.”

“No problem. Let me just get my shoes on.”

Fred smiles as he watches you toe on the slip on trainers he had come to know as Vans. You told him just last week about your obsession with them; unable to resist buying a new pair each time you passed the shop.

You grab your jacket from the hook, pulling it on as you lock the door behind you, bumping into Fred as you step out into the hallway.

Fred leads you out of the building, turning the usual left that heads in the direction of the park. You struggle to keep up with his long strides; calling out for him to slow down a little so you can at least walk side by side. He smiles at you as you catch up to him; apologising for his speed, he is just anxious.

The walk to the park is walked in silence. Fred’s mind occupied with how he’s going to tell you the most important thing about himself and how you’re going to react when you find out that a lot of your friendship was built on a lie.

The park settles on the horizon too soon and his heart is in his mouth. Fred used to be a confident guy; happily getting involved in scheme after scheme that would bring chaos and laughter to the corridors of Hogwarts, but he had lost that part of him in the battle. He wondered if he would ever be that guy again.

You bump his shoulder, “We’re at the park, what did you want to talk about?”

Fred settles on a nearby bench; fiddling with his fingers, “I need to tell you something but I’m not sure how to say it.”

“That’s fine. Why don’t you tell me why we’re in the park?”

Fred sighs, “It’s so you have the freedom and the choice to leave after I tell you what I’ve been keeping from you.”

Your heart starts to pound in your chest; panic rising slowly in your gut. “What have you been keeping from me that’s so bad that I would need to walk away from you?”

Fred turns in his spot, staring into your eyes, “Do you promise to hear me out and not interrupt?”

“Fred, you’re worrying me. What’s the matter?”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes, I promise! Now what’s wrong?”

“I’ve been lying to you… about so much.”

The air is knocked out of you, “I’m going to need more than that, Fred,” you whisper breathlessly.

“Do you remember when we first had breakfast? And I told you about the joke shop I own with my twin?”

“Yes… so what did you lie about? The joke shop or the twin?”

“Neither. I just lied about why you couldn’t see it.”

“Why?” You ask; your tone incredulous.

“Because I’m a wizard, and the joke shop I own with my twin – who is also a wizard – is a magical joke shops selling pranks and potions to witches and wizards attending Hogwarts.”

You stand from the bench, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself, wondering when the TV cameras are going to show up, “That isn’t funny, Fred.”

“I’m not joking, (Y/N). I’m not lying to you now.”

“How do I know? What’s Hogwarts? Who is your twin? What’s the name of your shop? Why aren’t you there?”

Fred had prepared himself for the barrage of questions he knew would inevitably fall from your mouth; curiosity being your besetting sin. He hadn’t prepared himself for the look of betrayal and hurt that crosses over face as you continue to stare at him. Fred feels his already broken heart break some more at the sight of it.

He runs a hand over his face, “(Y/N), love, please sit down. I’ll tell you everything.”

“Everything?” You question, “I want to know it all.”

Fred crosses over his heart, “I promise. Now please sit down.”

You sit next to him; a few inches away as if the small distance will help to protect the heart that you had already started to give to the broken red-headed man.

You remain silent as Fred sorts out his words; you can see the cogs in his mind working as he figures out how to explain an entire society that you hadn’t known existed until less than a minute ago.

Finally he releases a breath and begins.

“Witches and wizards have always been around, but after famous witch hunts such as Salem, Pendle, and Samlesbury, we had to go into hiding to protect our numbers. From the age of eleven, we go to Hogwarts. Hogwarts is a school in the highlands of Scotland dedicated to teaching young witches and wizards the art of magic as well as how to control it. My twin is called George; we’re identical and sometimes, our own mother struggles to tell us apart,” Fred breaks off with a short laugh, thinking of Molly with fondness.

“He’s my rock, he’s my best friend. We bought the joke shop when we were eighteen – it’s called Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and it’s found in Diagon Alley. For your sake, it’s found near Charing Cross Road.”

Fred pauses once again, readying himself to explain his absence from the shop and his presence in your life. “I’m not there because I moved away. In our society, there was a dark wizard who started a war for purposes beyond me. I just know that when I was 21 I was running through the corridors of the school I used to attend fighting for my life and watching people I knew die. I almost died myself when a wall was blown apart; luckily, someone spelled me out of the way. I’ll be forever grateful to them for that.

“After the war, I couldn’t cope. I was doing more harm than good by being with my family – my insomnia stems from nightmares of the war so I left. I left them and moved here where I’ve started to heal from my experiences and where I met you after you started to bang on my door. I wanted to tell you sooner; my mother told me to in her letters, but I was enjoying my time with you, and I didn’t want to ruin what we have. It means a lot to me.”

Fred falls silent with a smile aimed at you. Your mouth hangs open from his words; unsure on whether to take them for the truth they sounded like or to question him to find the holes in his story.

But he looks so vulnerable; the smile is watery, and his eyes are lined with tears. You realise that it’s taken a lot for him to confess this to you, but that it had been weighing on his mind for some time.

You don’t say anything immediately. Instead, you draw his head to your shoulder, and he lets out the sob he’s been holding in since he started to talk about his past. You wrap your arms around him tightly; holding him together as he lets himself fall to pieces in your arms. You’re in public, and this is a scene but the both of you don’t care. You hold him to you until his sobs begin to quieten into sniffles.

“I’m sorry,” Fred murmurs, pulling away from you as he wipes his eyes.

“Never apologise for crying.”

He sniffles, “Do you believe me?”

You nod, “I do. I don’t think anyone could have made up what you just said. I don’t think there’s enough imagination in the world for it. But there’s one thing I want to know.”

Fred watches you warily, “What is it?”

You grip his hand tightly, “Are you healing, Fred? Are you coping?”

Fred’s shoulders slump as the tension leaves his body; he had tensed at your words, worried at what you might say. He stares into your eyes as he answers, “I am. I was struggling at first, but I think I’m starting to heal.”

“Can I help? How can I help?”

Fred pats your hand, “Continue doing what you’re doing, it’s enough.”

And it is. Fred finds it easier to breathe in your presence as if the weight of the world is no longer on his shoulders like he were Atlas. Instead, he finds it easier to focus on other things such as plans for the day or listening to you talk about your latest assignment. He doesn’t feel his mind drift off as much when he’s around you; which is a good thing, he thinks.

You smile at him, still holding onto his hand, “I can do that.”

You both fall into quiet; eyes now focused on the expanse of the park. Fred watches a young mother push her young son the swings, hearing his delighted laughter, whilst your eyes land on the teenage couple making out underneath a tree; you move your eyes away quickly, focusing instead, on the ducks swimming in the pond.

You break the silence, “Fred?”

He hums in answer.

“Would you cast a spell for me?” You ask tentatively, “If that’s okay!”

Fred smiles softly; letting go of your hand to reach for the dogwood wand he keeps hidden up his sleeve. With flare he hasn’t shown since opening the store, he pulls the wand out. He rolls the wand over his fingers, “Wizards can practice magic outside of school from the age of seventeen; I can show you a spell.”

“Really?” You ask, bouncing in your place.

“Are you ready?”

“Hold on, let me think for a minute… YES.” You shout, stamping your feet in the grass.

Fred grins; his eyes crinkling in the corners from the size of his smile. He checks for witnesses before holding his wand up whispering the incantation ‘Lumos’. The tip of his wand begins to glow with a pale light which in the falling darkness of the day only helps him see the beauty in your features.

You gasp at the sight of the light emanating from Fred’s wand, resisting the urge to reach out and touch it. “I can’t believe it,” you sigh, “All this time I asked you to change lightbulbs and you could create light with a single word.”

“You’re not scared or freaked out?” He asks, unable to stop himself. The small voice in the back of his head needed to know whether you were going to leave him.

You shake your head, still watching the pale white light. With a single whisper of ‘Nox’, Fred turns out the light and slides his wand back into his sleeve. You turn your attention back to Fred, “I’m not scared or freaked out. I’m just in awe of you and this entire society that’s survived in secret. I feel like I’m privy to a secret organisation.”

“You’re in awe of me?” Fred asks; those being the only words he focused on in your entire sentence after confirming you weren’t scared of him.

“Absolutely. You can conjure magic, Fred! Actual magic! It’s incredible,” Your hands frame his face, keeping his eyes on you as you lean close and whisper, “You are incredible.”

He covers your hands with his; wondering when he’d become so soft. “Thank you,” he replies.

You pull away too soon; Fred’s hands dropping to his side, feeling suddenly cold at the loss of contact.

Standing from the bench, you hold your hand out for Fred to take. “Come on, magic man. It’s time we went home.”

“Magic man?” He asks, amused. He takes your offered hand, pulling himself up from the park bench.

“It’s my new nickname for you, do you like?”

“Magic man… magic man,” Fred repeats, testing the name out on his tongue, “I suppose I do.”

“Good, because I don’t think I’ll call you anything else.”

The walk back to the flat is quicker than the walk to the park. Fred’s steps lighter now than they were earlier. Chased by the turning on of street lights, you reach your building and lead him into your flat, offering him a warm drink as he takes a seat on your cream coloured couch.

Fred takes the hot mug of tea from you as you sit down next to him. He takes a shy sip, careful not to burn his tongue. It’s perfect, as it always is. You always know the right amount of sugar and milk to add.

“Thank you for telling me that today, I know it wasn’t easy for you.”

“It wasn’t, but it got easier when you didn’t walk away. I was so worried that you were going to.”

“I don’t think I’d have forgiven myself if I had.”

Teas are drank after that, and Fred whispers goodnight to you before kissing your cheek in a rare moment of tenderness. He lets himself out of your flat, making the short walk back to his where he throws himself on the couch and lets himself wonder when exactly he had started to fall in love with you.

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

Two more months follow, and Fred knows that he’s now arse over tea kettle in love you. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes, that you like to shove under legs when laid on the couch together, so he yelps at their temperature.

Two more months follow, and Fred feels like he’s maybe able to start living his life again, but in small doses. He writes to his mother more who’s delighted by the tales he tells of you and your growing relationship; he could never keep anything from Molly – her face too trusting and her manner too warm. All Molly is concerned about in her letters is whether Fred is happy, and for the first time in over a year, Fred can reply saying he thinks he could be.

Molly won’t ever tell Fred this, but she cried at that letter, feeling her heart burst with happiness for the son she had always worried about.

Time passes, and Fred spends more and more time with you. Breakfast dates, lunch dates, movie marathons on the couch – he does it all with you. You even go so far as to make him decorate his flat more; pictures of his family now line the walls as well as the picture of him and George on the opening day of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

That’s when he knows he needs to go back to Diagon Alley, and he’s taking you with him.

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

At nine am on the dot, Fred knocks on your door until you open it. You glare at the red-headed man, demanding to know his presence at your door when he only left at four am after binging the entire Godfather trilogy without realising how long the films are.

Fred beams at your state, “Go get dressed, I’ll make you some coffee.”

“Why?” You ask, puzzled.

“I’m taking you to Diagon Alley and my joke shop.”

You stagger back a couple of steps, “Really? Are you sure? Are you ready?”

Fred’s grin moulds into something softer at your concern. “I am, and I want you to come with me.”

A slow smile breaks across your face, “Give me ten minutes and we can go!”

You rush into your room; pulling open the doors to your wardrobe and raking through to find any sort of clothes you’d wear to visit a magical shop, and possibly meet the twin brother of the man you’d fallen in love with.

Minutes later, you exit your room, pulling a brush through your hair to make yourself look more presentable. Gratefully, you take the cup of coffee from Fred’s hand before rushing into your bathroom to brush your teeth and spritz yourself in your favourite perfume – jasmine, lavender and citrus.

You drain the dregs of your coffee as you leave the bathroom. Dropping the pale pink mug in the sink, you turn to find Fred leaning against your kitchen counter with an amused and entertained look on his face.

“Someone’s excited, I see.” He teases.

You pout, “It’s not every day I get to go see magical London, magic man.”

Fred claps his hands, laughing quietly. “Come on then, let’s get you to Diagon Alley.”

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

Diagon Alley is nestled behind Charing Cross Road; it’s the largest area of wizarding London and is completely hidden from the muggle world.

Fred has been visiting Diagon Alley for as long as he can remember; flooing there with his mother and Bill, Charlie and Percy to collect their things for the latest school year. As a child, he loved visiting Florean Fortescue’s when the budget permitted it; getting a single scoop cone with rainbow sprinkles.

As he enters the Leaky Cauldron, leading you in by the hand, Fred is a mix of fear and excitement making him act jittery as he approaches the familiar face of Tom, the barman.

“Fred Weasley? Is that you?” Tom asks, a large smile on his face, “I haven’t seen you in over a year! How have you been?”

“I’ve been well, Tom. How have you been?”

“Never better – you know me.”

Fred smiles, nodding. “I’m heading out back, is that okay?”

“Anything for a Weasley. Does this have something to do with the muggle hiding behind your back?”

You reveal yourself from where you’ve hidden yourself behind Fred. Keeping a tight hold on his hand, you smile shyly at the barman, “I’m (Y/N). It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Tom smiles politely, “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.” Tom turns his attention back to Fred, “You know what to do.”

Fred parts ways with barman he had grown up knowing, pulling you to the back door which opens into a small courtyard.

“Fred, love, it’s a dead end.”

“Are you sure?” Fred asks with a smirk, reaching for his wand. “Want to see some proper magic?”

“Always, magic man.”

He grins at the use of your nickname for him before tapping his wand on the bricks blocking your way. You cry out as the bricks begin to move; shifting to the side to reveal an entryway to a cobbled street lined with shop after shop all varying in colours.

Letting go of Fred’s hand, you take your first step into the wizarding world; already in love with every aspect of it, just as you’re in love with every aspect of the man making his way to your side.

“What do you think?” He asks, breathless at the sight of the place he hasn’t seen in a year.

“This is unlike any other place I’ve seen.” You hold your hand out for Fred to grab, “Show me around?”

“With pleasure,” Fred replies, wrapping your hand in his, tangling your fingers.

Fred takes you on a tour of the Alley; stopping outside Ollivander’s and getting out his wand to explain the importance of the place, turning his wand around to show you what he means. He tells you the story of Harry Potter; of what his wand meant, being the twin of the wand that had killed his parents. Your heart breaks for the boy you had never met; had never even heard of until today – you ask after him, how is he now? Fred reassures you; after all, he’s fine, Harry’s dating his younger sister much to Fred’s chagrin.

He takes you into Florean Fortescue’s, buying you ice cream for breakfast as any adult should have. Your eyes widen at the taste of the Butterbeer ice cream; butterscotch and buttercream icing bursting on your tongue. Fred smiles at your expression, licking his way through his own ice cream – strawberries and cream for nostalgia’s sake.

Sitting down at a small table, you tap your ice creams to each other in a toast. “Where are we going next?” You ask, catching a drip of the melting ice cream with your tongue – not missing the way Fred’s eyes track the movement.

“I thought we could visit my shop.”

“Your shop?” You ask in disbelief, “Are you sure?”

Fred nods, catching a drip on his own ice cream. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes also track the movement of his mouth. “Yes, I’m sure.” He looks away, ashamed, “I’ve left George alone too long.”

You reach for his hand across the table, “I’m sure he understands, Fred.”

“I know he does, but it doesn’t stop the guilt.”

You rub your thumb across the back of his hand in a comforting motion, “Are you sure you’re okay to go? We can always come back another day.”

“You’d come back with me?”

You grin, “Of course, this is the best ice cream I’ve ever had. I’m here for you, magic man – who else is going to kill the spiders in my bathroom?”

Fred relaxes, “You’re the best, you know that right?”

You take another lick of your ice cream, “I do know that. Do you want to stay and see your brother, or do you want to go? I’m happy with either, but you’re going to have to give me time to get more ice cream.”

Fred laughs at your words, “It is good ice cream,” he takes a lick of his, “No, let’s go. I need to see him; I need to apologise.”

“Alright then. We’ll finish here and then we’ll go to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes… at last.”

He nods, remaining silent. The ice creams are finished in silence; questioning looks sent to each other across the table. Your feelings for Fred often overwhelmed you with their strength; never imagining that knocking on his door in the early hours of the morning could ever lead to something like this. In the short time you had known the man, you had fallen head over heels for him and also had your entire worldview altered by finding out about the existence of magic.

He’d quite literally turned your world upside down, and the only thing that ran through your mind through it all was: I hope he feels the same.

Soon though, faces are wiped on napkins and hands are back to hold each other’s as Fred leads you from the ice cream parlour to where the orange top hat stands out against the darkly coloured shops.

In a last minute attempt to delay the inevitable, Fred pulls you over to the pet shop. You coo over the animals; pointing to the Puffskein with questions burning on your tongue. Fred answers them all happily, delighted to delay walking into the shop and brother he’s neglected for so long.

After a few more minutes, you step away from the shop window citing the temptation being too great and you may end up smuggling the Puffskeins to the muggle world.

“That was a fantastic distraction, magic man.”

“Wasn’t it?” He admits, blushing at having been caught out but not wanting to lie to you, “It worked like a treat.”

You chuckle, “It really did. They remind me of clouds do the Puffskeins; neon, furry clouds.”

Fred snorts, “An excellent description.”

The joke shop now looms in front of the two of you; the bright orange and purple of the paintwork almost luminous in the morning light. Fred stops in the middle of the pavement; feet stuck to the floor, unable to carry him forward. He’s avoided this for so long, but he finally feels ready to insert himself back into the life of pranks, jokes, and happiness.

Your grip on his hand tightens, “I’m here, magic man. I’m not going anywhere.”

His nod is the only sign you get to know that he’s heard your words.

Taking a deep breath, Fred begins to put one foot in front of the other; a hand outstretched for the door handle to the shop, giving it a light push. The bell above the door rings, signalling his entrance into the shop but also his entrance into his old life.

The shop is quiet; it being still too early in the day to get masses and masses of shoppers. Their busy season is the three weeks in August before terms starts where students come to buy their school books but to also stock up on items of mischief.

A near identical man to Fred stands up straighter from his position behind the counter. He starts to open his mouth, to welcome the new customers to the shop but when he looks up, the words never leave his mouth.

He simply freezes in place.

His eyes flicker between the two of you quickly, before running over the man stood next to you. Looking for what, you don’t know.

In between one blink of an eye and the next, he’s thrown himself across the counter, sprinting to where Fred stands in the entryway.

No words are spoken; he just holds Fred’s face in his hands before pulling him in for a hug that’s been long overdue.

You step away from their reunion, letting your eyes roam over the shop. They need this moment alone; you don’t need to invade by watching them. You wander a little; fingers running over displays. You frown when you see you an area lit up in pink titled ‘Love Potion’.

You pick up one of the little bottles shaped like a heart; the bright pink liquid inside jostling as you examine it.

“Careful,” A voice sounds behind you, “It’s a powerful potion.”

Turning you find Fred’s twin, George watching you with inquisitive eyes. “What does it do?” You ask, fiddling with the stopper.

“It mimics the effects of love and obsession. If you smell it, you smell the person you love.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Truly?”

George nods, “Truly. We sell crates full of the stuff nearing Valentine’s Day.”

Releasing the stopper from the neck of the bottle, you take a delicate sniff. Peonies, rain, and Yorkshire tea come filtering through. The very smells you’ve become to associate with the man who had never really been your neighbour but has always been something more.

Replacing the stopper, you drop the potion into George’s waiting hand. He pockets it before turning back to face his twin.

“What did you smell?” Fred asks as you settle back next to him.

You shrug, “Nothing I didn’t already know.”

George grins at the two of you, “Is this the famous (Y/N) from your letters to mum?”

You nudge Fred with your elbow, beaming, “You write to your mum about me, magic man?”

“Hold on – magic man?” George asks, eyes glancing at both Fred and you.

You nod, “It’s my nickname for him.”

George chuckles, “It’s brilliant. I may have to use it myself.”

Fred blushes at his brother’s use of your nickname for him. He doesn’t say it, but it doesn’t sound right coming from anyone else’s mouth but yours.

“Anyway, it’s nice to meet you, (Y/N). Mum already loves you. I’m George.” George introduces, holding a hand out to you.

You shake his hand twice before dropping it, “It’s very nice to meet you too, George. Fred has told me so much.”

“He has?”

You nod, “He’s told me all about the pranks you played at Hogwarts and why you set up this shop – which I think is wonderful by the way – I feel like I already know you.”

George shifts his gaze to his twin, “I don’t know why but I didn’t think you’d talk about me.”

Fred gapes, “Of course I talk about you. You’re my twin brother, you’re practically half of me.”

George shrugs, “You only send letters to mum… I just assumed.”

Fred steps forward, placing his hands on George’s shoulders, “Mum made me promise to write, I couldn’t break that. I wanted to write to you so much, George, but the guilt I felt as just leaving you and the shop was too much and then more time passed. I’ve been an awful brother; can you forgive me?”

George laughs, tears falling freely down his face. “There’s nothing to forgive now that I know why.”

Fred hauls George into a hug; neither afraid to show their emotions through this reunion. Fred had been so worried before this; thinking his brother might turn him away at the door, but now holding him in his arms, he’s just happy to have his twin by his side once more.

They pull away with a sob; George clapping Fred on the back. “Will you be returning to work, Freddie?”

Fred’s eyes land on you; where you’ve stood silently through the whole exchange, just happy to see the two brothers reunite. His eyes search your face for something, and he finds it in your smile. “Yeah, George. I think I might do.”

George glances between you and Fred as if seeing the connection there. He keeps his mouth shut but smiles at the fact that his twin has found someone to share his life with.

You spend a couple more hours in the shop; pottering freely as Fred and George discuss the state of the business and when Fred would like to start work again. Pride runs through your veins as you listen to them from the upper floor; Fred has achieved so much in such a short space of time and you couldn’t be more prouder of him.

You also couldn’t be more in love with him. He handles himself with such grace; standing taller, smiling more. The more time you spent with him, the more you could feel yourself falling for him. Nights alone in your flat had you thinking of what it would be like to be laid in bed next to him – would he cuddle? Would he let you lay your head on his chest? Or would he prefer to spoon? You had spent so many nights thinking of these questions, trying to think of answers.

“(Y/N)?” Fred calls from the lower floor, “Are you ready to go?”

“Already?” You ask, descending the staircase.

Fred nods, “I’ll come back tomorrow and talk more to George about what I need to do. It’s time we got some lunch, however.”

Your stomach grumbles at his words, “You’ve got great timing it seems, magic man.”

He shakes his head, laughing softly, “No. I just know you too well.”

You smile at him before turning to George to say goodbye. George smiles at you, saying, “I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other very soon,” with a wink at Fred.

The tips of Fred’s ears burn red as he claps his twin on the shoulder, promising he’ll call in tomorrow. “Tell mum you’ve seen me, will you? I know she worries,” Fred calls on his way out.

“Already on it!” are George’s final words before the door closes.

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

Sitting at a corner table in The Leaky Cauldron, Fred continues to ride on the high from seeing his twin brother after a year apart. He’s positively ravenous; the nerves before having dampened his appetite. He takes it upon himself to order for the both you; checking that you don’t mind. You wave him away, stating that you wouldn’t even know where to begin with ordering.

Tom hands Fred your drinks after ordering, letting him know it’d be around ten minutes before food was with you. Fred thanks the barman, picking up the drinks to return you.

“I’m really proud of you, Fred.” You state, taking a sip of the sweet Butterbeer.

“You are?” He asks bashfully.

“I am. It took a lot of bravery to do what you did today.”

Fred blushes, but doesn’t drop his eyes from yours. “I think I’m going to be brave one last time.”

“You are?”

“Yes,” He states, reaching for your hand, “I’ve only known you for less than six months but in that time you’ve helped me find who I was before the war. You’ve helped me find the laughter that was missing. What I’m trying to say is, is that I’ve fallen in love with you, (Y/N).”

“Oh, Fred,” You sniffle, “I love you too.”

“You do?”

You nod, “I really do. I love every last bit of you.

Fred sags in his chair; holding onto your hand tighter, “I was so worried you wouldn’t love me back.”

“No chance of that, magic man.”

The smile that breaks across his face is simply breathtaking, and you thank your lucky stars that the man you’ve fallen in love with, loves you back, just as much.

Tom fetches your food over then, settling two plates onto table. It smells divine and without letting go of Fred’s hand, you pick up your fork and dig in.

The meal is eaten in silence; happy looks and secret smiles exchanged over the steaming plates of food. Fred’s thumb rubs over the back of your hand; the motion now having another meaning alongside ‘I’m here’. Elation bubbles within you, flooding your veins. The love you feel for this man is entirely encompassing, filling your very pores, combining with your genetic makeup.

For as delicious as the meal is, the both of you barely taste it. Plates are empty in no time, and Fred leaves Tom a tip on the table. He pulls you up with him, dragging you to the door and back to muggle London.

It feels like a fever dream; stepping back into the reality you’ve known all your life until you met the red-headed man stood next to you.

Fred tugs you into him; his arm wrapping around your waist. He drops your hand in favour of caressing your cheek. His brown eyes sparkle with love and joy as he dips his head, pausing just before he touches his lips to yours, waiting for permission. You grant him in the form of pushing your mouth to his.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him in close, feeling all of him pressed against all you. He tastes of the butterscotch from the dregs of his Butterbeer and you hum against his mouth – it’s intoxicating. He’s intoxicating; you could lose yourself entirely in him and you wouldn’t mind a bit. Your hand runs through his hair, tugging lightly. Your toes curl at the sound of the low moan from the back of his throat.

From the outside, this looks like a simple passionate embrace between a young couple. They don’t know how long this kiss has been in the making; how many time you’ve wondered exactly what Fred would taste like, and now you have that knowledge, it’s not something you’ll be parting with soon.

Eventually, you pull away from him, coming back to the surface for breath but Fred doesn’t let you go. He holds onto you tightly, pressing kiss after kiss to your face making you giggle at his affectionate side.

He lets you go for a single instant to pull you into the side street beside The Leaky Cauldron. He wraps you tightly into his side, savouring the feel of you lined next to him.

“This is going to make you dizzy,” is his only warning before he apparates back to your flat.

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

Though confessions have been uttered, Fred takes his time to learn your body.

Kissing you slowly; peeling your clothes off your body with the air of someone who has all the time in the world – and he does. He takes his time to memorise every inch of your body; every dip, every curve, every freckle. He commits it all to memory though the both of you know that you’ll be doing this for a very long time. He whispers words of worship into your skin; your body was a cathedral and he was going to worship at your feet.

You take your time with him; running your hand through the hair on his chest before trailing it lower, watching how the muscles in his toned stomach jump at your touch. A simple touch, and it drives him wild.

He draws you in for a kiss; flipping the both of you so you’re underneath him. He braces himself above and you spend the rest of the night, and most of the morning, learning the noises that can be evoked from a kiss in the right place.

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

It surprised Fred that it takes his mother almost a month to send him a letter demanding that she finally get to meet the person who had stolen her son’s heart.

Fred reads the letter beside you at the breakfast table; chuckling at his mother’s words over his morning cup of tea. He hands you the letter once he’s finished reading, watching your face for every emotion as well as letting his gaze drop to the small purple bruises at the base of your neck, laid there by his mouth.

You hold a hand up to your mouth, repressing the smile. “Your mother wants to meet me?”

Fred nods, “She has for a while, but I didn’t want to scare you away.”

“There’s no chance of that now, magic man, especially after last night.”

Fred blushes but beams, satisfied. “Would you like to meet them?”

You pause, tilting your head to one side as you think of how to phrase your next few sentences, “I don’t want to presume anything, but I’d like to think I’m going to be in your life for a long while. I think the earlier I meet your family, the better.”

Fred takes your hand in his, dropping a kiss to the top of it. “You aren’t presuming anything; I want you in my life for an eternity and more. But are you sure you want to meet them? I’m from a very large family, and if I know them, it’ll be partners as well.”

You lean over to press a kiss to his cheek then to peck his lips quickly, “I love the worry, but it’s okay. I want to meet them, and I want to see pictures of my magic man as a baby.”

Fred groans; he’s forgotten about the baby pictures but from the look on your face, he know he’s fighting a losing battle. He kisses you quick, “I’ll send an owl to my mum now, letting her know we’ll come tomorrow, how does that sound?”

You hum happily, “That sounds like just enough time for me to find an outfit good enough.”

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

Molly Weasley opened Fred’s letter with a shriek; rushing to reply before getting started on calling the family together. She sends her Patronus to Charlie in Romania; threatening death should he not return home for this occasion. Charlie replies within two hours by showing up on the doorstep with his girlfriend, Evie in tow.

The whole family under one roof again would be something of an event; and one Molly would not waste by having petty squabbles and nasty reminders. She lines her family up in the living room; boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands and wives and proceeds to lecture about what this means. She’s grateful it being a Friday evening so she can lecture the whole family without absentees claiming work as the excuse.

Halfway through her lecture to her family, Arthur places a soft hand on her shoulder, “Molly, dear, we’re going to be on our best behaviour.”

She whimpers, “I haven’t seen my son is so long, Arthur.”

He wraps an arm around his wife’s shoulder, knowing the toll Fred’s absence took on her. He had been the unexpected twin; but they didn’t love him any less for it. On the contrary, Molly loved him more for the fear of his siblings making him feel unwanted.

“I know, dear. But we all promise to be on our bestest behaviour, don’t we gang?”

Confirmation rings out across all six of their children and their partners. Molly levels them all with a look, “Fred is bringing his muggle girlfriend with him, and George has told me it’s serious. We aren’t going to have a problem with that are we?”

“Definitely not,” George calls out to the agreement of his siblings and siblings-in-law, “(Y/N) is a sweetheart; you’ll see the moment they both arrive.”

Molly dismisses her family; dispersing them to different rooms with different jobs to make the house presentable for Fred and (Y/N)’s visit tomorrow.

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

Tomorrow arrives quickly, and before you know it, the sun is shining through your window and the birds have begun their morning song. Fred’s arm hangs over your waist in a dead weight; you shift him gently as you make your way out of your bed and into the bathroom to begin your day.

By the time Fred wakes, you’re dressed and are brushing through your hair. With a lazy grin, he watches you get ready for the day. He’s in utter awe of how he met someone like you, but then you meet his eyes in the mirror and that awe transforms into something warmer.

He drags himself out of the warm bed desperate to feel you under his hands. He places his hands on your shoulder, dropping a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Good Morning,” He whispers, his voice still raspy with sleep, “You look beautiful.”

You hum, “Good Morning sleepy head. The kettle boiled a few minutes ago and there’s a teabag waiting in your favourite pot.”

“You’re a dream,” Fred calls out, pottering into the kitchen.

“And you’re a flatterer, magic man,” You call back; grinning when you hear his laughter.

Time flies by in a rush of breakfast, clothes, and kisses and before you know it, it’s time to apparate all the way to Devon.

“Are you ready?” Fred asks; your hand tight in his. You don’t miss the double meaning to his words.

“Take me to Devon, magic man,” is all you reply before your flat turns into a whirlpool of blended colours and you’re spat back out on the outskirts of green, green farmland.

Not letting go of your hand, Fred leads you in the direction of his childhood home. Air he hasn’t smelt in over a year wash over him, bringing with it a tidal wave of memories. Nostalgia settles within him as he glances down at you to gauge your reaction to his home.

The Burrow stands proudly in the valley between two hills. You gasp at the sheer height of it, “This is where you grew up?”

Fred nods, eyes on you, “It is. I lived here until I moved to London.”

“It’s incredible,” You whisper, taking a step forward, and then another, and then another until you break through the long grass into a clearing. A garage is situated to the left of the large house, and you can just make out the canes for a vegetable garden. You nod as if understanding every motive for the placement of everything; if you were to live somewhere like here, you’d too grow your own food.

Fred draws your attention back to him by speaking, “Through there is where we practice Quidditch; the game I told you about from Hogwarts?” He continues when he sees you nod, “Then behind there is a pond that a family of frogs live in. To the right of us is mum’s garden, it’s her pride and hoy – she excels at household charms, but she’s a wonder in the garden too.”

“Fred, this place is incredible. I already love it and I haven’t even met your family.”

Fred smiles, “You won’t need to wait very long; here’s George.”

You turn from the sight of the growing vegetables to see George making his way over to you. “Fred! (Y/N)! How are you?” he calls out.

Fred waves at his twin, leading you to him. “We’re good, Georgie. How is everyone?”

George beams at his twin and then you, “They’re beside themselves with excitement. Mum screeched when she got your letter; gave us a lecture on decorum and everything.”

Fred laughs; his heart swelling with love and fondness for the woman who had raised him with such love and care.

“What do you say, (Y/N)?” George starts, “Ready to meet the Weasley clan?”

You grin at George and then at Fred; utterly besotted by this man, “Lead the way.”

George claps his hands before turning his back on you, heading towards the open door. You follow him at a faster pace than the one you had done when walking up to the house. Eagerness settling in your stomach as you keep your eyes on the open door.

Fred keeps pace with you easily; both nerves and excitement coursing through his veins.

He hears his mother before he sees her, “Fred! My darling,” she cries, tackling him into a hug so tight Fred thinks his ribs might break. You pause next to him; Fred’s arm angled awkwardly as he hugs his mum with one arm – you move to let go of his hand so he can hug his mother properly, but his hold on you tightens.

“Hi Mum, I’ve missed you,” Fred says at the sound of her cries, “I’m home mum, and I’m starving so let’s get something to eat, shall we? I’ve missed your cooking too much.”

Molly wipes her eyes, running them over her son, “I think you have. You’re looking far too thin, darling,” Her eyes land on you; they widen for a second before she’s tackling you in a hug. She whispers, “Thank you” in your ear before saying much louder, “I’m so glad I finally get to meet you, dear. I’ve read so much about you I feel I know you already but it’s never the same thing.”

You return her hug with just as much vigour, “Thank you for having me, I love your home.”

Molly pulls away, “You’re lovely; you’re perfect for Fred, I know it. Come on in, it’s time we ate, and you can meet the rest of the family.”

Your stomach ties itself in knots as you follow Fred into his childhood home. Voices starts to shout upon the sight of Fred entering the home; he grins at them all, greeting them by name, passing out kiss after kiss on the cheek as well as hugs to his brothers.

Then it’s all silent as the crowd turns to you. Fred’s hand drops your and his arm wraps around your waist, “Everyone this is (Y/N). Please be nice, I’m rather fond as you’ve probably heard from mum and George.”

Everyone greets you as if you’ve been part of the family for years; kisses on cheeks and tight hugs as everyone introduces themselves. A dream of your since you were child was to have a large family, and now with Fred, it seems as if that dream would finally be possible.

His arm rests on the back of your chair as the family take their seats at the table. The food is served with loudness and love; Molly taking extra care with her cooking to make sure it’s perfect for you. From your first bite, you understand what Fred was on about all those months ago. After eating Molly’s food, you would be ruined for anyone else’s.

It’s wonderful; they take you in with open arms, ignoring the fact that you’re a muggle because to them, it doesn’t matter. They aren’t bothered whether you have magic or not, just that you love Fred and make him happy.

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

After the meal, Fred watches you interact with his family; explaining to his father the purpose of your degrees and your plans for the future as Arthur sits there entirely enraptured. He watches you asking Charlie question after question about Dragons with Charlie only being too happy to answer – his girlfriend Evie chiming in every now and then with her own knowledge on the subject matter.

He watches you talk animatedly; eyed wide and hands gesturing wildly, fitting in with his family better than he could have dreamed of.

Sighing happily, Fred realises three things:

One – his family would always be there for him, no matter the issue. They’re there to help, to never hinder.

Two – he’s still healing. It will be a long time before he’s recovered from the war, and he’s accepted that.

And three – he’s moving forward with all that in tow because he’s found the love of his life and he’s finally ready to start living it.

*********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @dreamer821 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe

Fred Weasley taglist: @susceptible-but-siriusexual

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twilightdruig · 3 years

Text

help?

pairing : george weasley x fem!reader

summary : “hi i’m your neighbor and while i know we’ve never spoken but you’re a single parent of two and my sister recently died leaving me to raise her infant and i have no idea what i’m doing, help?” au

warnings : swearing , mentions of character deaths , fluff , au where george lives alone with his two children in a cottage near the burrow , au where fred and cedric live.

words : 2.6k

a/n : this is my first fic so it’s probably gonna be shit (as you can probably tell i’m not good with titles either) but yeah hope you enjoy :> and i might do a little part 2 on this soon

holly l/n was loved by multiple. a sweet hufflepuff student who was favored by all the teachers and students. her sister, y/n was a scary and intimidating gryffindor who hung out in the library.

ever since the battle of hogwarts death eaters have been imprisoned in azkaban. but, that didn’t mean all harm was gone.

now here y/n l/n was, standing in the heat of the summer, her nephew connor l/n mourning the death of a family member.

the service was beautiful. a few hogwarts students came including luna lovegood and neville longbottom and professor sprout and professor flitwick decided to pay their respects. headmistress mcgonagall sent her condolences through a letter as well.

conner wasn’t old enough to go to hogwarts yet. there was no one else for holly to leave connor with. her husband, ronan died during the war, all connor’s grandparents died and the only appointed godparents were holly’s best friend cedric diggory and her sister y/n.

cedric diggory was now teaching first year flying at hogwarts and is married to cho chang.

y/n was currently doing nothing with her life. she wanted to live alone in a cottage, reading, stitching, picking apples and getting drunk on fruity cocktails. but now? she had to take care of her sister’s spoiled son.

y/n hated children more than she hated the people in her own hogwarts house. more so, she didn’t know how to take care of them.

she had to enroll her nephew in hogwarts, teach him basic life skills and other stuff like that. there goes her life goal on being that cool stoner aunt that hates love and children.

—

“shit, connor!” y/n exclaimed as her 3 year old nephew accidentally ate a ton tongue toffee made by the joke shop in diagon alley owned by the weasleys.

“sorry aunty y/n”

she was never close to the weasleys. all of them, stereotypical gryffindors, loud and chaotic and always the main characters.

the only thing she knew about them is that one of the twins live next to her. y/n didn’t know how to shrink his tongue and thought it was quite the convenience that he lives next door. he was a single dad with two daughters, maybe he could help her control her nephew and technically her adopted son, now.

she sighed. “put on your coat, we’re visiting our neighbors, ok con?” the little boy nodded in response

—

went the small cottage came into view, there were two little girls picking flowers on the front yard and a tall red-headed man on the porch watching them.

“hey! weasley!” she yelled with a small smile as she approached the small gate.

“l/n? what are you doing here?” george asked

y/n gestured to her nephew who was holding his now 3 foot long tongue. “he accidentally ate one of your products and i’m not entirely sure how to fix it”

“right, right” he laughed “come on, connor right? i’ll reverse that”

y/n felt a tug at her oversized cardigan. she looked down to see two identical ginger twins.

“hi there!” one smiled.

“hello!” y/n tried to sound as nice as possible. looking back at her teenage years she remembered laughing at kids who fell of their brooms their brooms when she’d watch first year flying. she remembered laughing at seamus finnigan when something blew up in his face. or when she’d laugh at any kid accidentally getting hurt.

“these are for you! they’re pretty just like you” the other twin exclaimed.

“i’m charlotte and she’s billie” charlotte giggled.

“how do u know our daddy?” billie asked

“oh! um, we went to school together and i live just next door” y/n replied

“do you know our uncle freddie?”

“i know all your uncles and your aunt ginny, aunt hermione and uncle harry. they were all famous when we were in school”

“wow!” they both exclaimed

george and connor came back out. “look aunty y/n! my tongue’s normal again!”

“aunty?” george questioned. “holly. she died quite recently.”

“oh! i’m so sorry. i heard about her. yeah. i believe mum sent some flowers for the service”

“yeah we received them”

“i’ll see you around?” george inquired

“yeah, yeah. and i might need some parenting advice? you knew how i was back at hogwarts”

“i am flattered, dear l/n”

“oh hush. and they get along.” she pointed to the three children running around.

“they do. and yes, i would love to help you tame that little rascal” george laughed.

“thank you, george. really.”

“i’m just next door, yeah?”

“yeah” y/n smiled “come on, connor. we’re going home. but we’ll definitely be seeing these lovely ladies soon.”

“bye pretty lady!” y/n heard two young voices call after her

“daddy, who was she?”

“is she gonna be our new mommy?”

—

george and y/n had been hanging out for the past weeks. he had given her advice on taking care of connor and how to deal with children. they also spent time talking about family and their time back at hogwarts. she was told about the attack of death eaters at one of his brothers’ wedding and how his daughters were named after his brothers bill and charlie.

a knock at y/n’s door interrupted her reading.

“oi, l/n!” she heard a familiar voice on the other side of the door.

“weasley” she muttered.

connor recognized george’s voice and the twins’ giggles, he decided he would take matters into his own little hands. connor knew how stubborn his aunt was at the young age of seven.

“hi billie! hi charlotte! hi uncle george!” the little boy squealed.

“hey there, con!” george ruffled his hair while billie and charlotte ran over to y/n.

connor and the twins were two years apart. connor was going to hogwarts the next year. no doubt would he be trouble to professor mcgonagall but everyone knew they were always her favorites.

“aunty y/n! uncle george brought cookies!” connor yelled excitedly. y/n was never the type to bake or cook. she did try to but it always ended in almost burning the house down. she usually fed connor fruits or store bought food.

“you didn’t have to” y/n responded while taking the plastic box.

“oh yes i did” he teased “i heard you’ve been starving this poor little fellow”

“daddy didn’t bake those cookies” charlotte stated “grandma did” billie continued

“oh” she smirked at george then turned to the twins “tell your grandma i say thanks!”

“uncle george! i wanna show you something outside! the twins can come too!”

“connor, what are you gonna show them?” y/n grumbled.

“your paintings! they’re amazing” her nephew jumped.

“paintings, eh?” george smiled “okay, let’s go, champ. see those paintings of your aunt.” the two scurried outside, two redheaded girls following after.

y/n groaned and fell back into the couch, finishing her book.

—

it’s been a few days since george and the twins came with cooking to y/n and connor’s cottage. she wanted to throw connor a little surprise birthday party.

connor has loved the twins and george so much, he thinks of them as blood relatives. y/n decided to call up cedric and cho to look after connor while she’d do some errands.

the two arrived exactly on time as y/n was preparing to go out. she had on a simple cardigan and loose denim pants.

“ced! cho! hi, how are you guys?” y/n greeted as she saw her old friends apparate into the cottage.

“hi y/n!” cho greeted “hey nerd” cedric snickered.

she sent cedric a small glare before connor jumped at the two.

“uncle ceddy! aunty cho! you’re here” he shouted.

“yeah buddy! your aunt’s gonna run some errands and visit your uncle georgie?” cedric winked at y/n. she had been owling cedric about george and how he’s been helping her with connor.

“are you going out with uncle george?” connor asked, eyes twinkling.

“i don’t know, actually. i might check him out next door.”

“george weasley?” cho teased.

“yes, cho,” y/n rolled her eyes “but on that note, i have to go”

“bye, connor! behave okay?” she crouched down and squished his cheeks.

“bye, ced! cho!” her voice faded when she dashed out the door.

—

y/n passed george’s cottage to see if he actually might want to come with her and do errands.

she was standing outside the small gate, hesitating. ‘maybe he was busy’ ‘he wouldn’t want to do errands with me’ ‘maybe he would if i told him it was for connor’s birthday’ she thought. y/n didn’t know why she was overthinking her choices. the first time she was standing right outside the gate she bursted in and demanded george to fix whatever happened to her nephew. now, she was nervous. her palms were sweaty and clammy.

she pushed herself in and walked to the front porch. she knocked a few times and was met with a head of messy brown hair.

“hermione?!” she squealed

“y/n!” hermione jumped to hug her old friend.

there were overlapping voices in the background and when they pulled away she was met with multiple mops of ginger hair, a head of blonde hair and another with black hair behind hermione.

“l/n?” ginny weasley asked, quite shocked what she would be doing outside george’s door.

“oh! did i interrupt something? i am so sorry!” she said feeling a bit nervous.

“oh! you must be the dearest y/n george keeps talking about!” an old woman she thought was mrs. weasley approached her from behind her children.

“hi there!” y/n said feeling a little embarrassed she might’ve barged in on a family reunion.

“ah! l/n? i have heard of your family! muggle-borns right?” arthur weasley joined his wife.

“uh, yeah!” she pursed her lips “i am so so sorry i interrupted! i should go. tell george i’ll swing by next time”

“oh it’s absolutely alright, dear” molly reassured her.

“george! there’s a really pretty girl! get your arse out here!” fred yelled to george who was probably inside the house.

“is she here?” charlotte and billie ran to the door.

“hi girls! tell you dad i was here yeah? say i’ll come by next time” most of the weasleys came back in. she took it as her time to go on with her day.

“oi! y/n! wait up” the voice she recognized as george’s called after her.

“george, hey”

“where’r you off to?” george pointed to the small bag that was swung over her shoulder.

“errands. connor’s birthday is coming up so i thought i’d prepare something for him. first birthday without his mum, you know”

“his birthday’s coming up?” george looked as excited as a child on christmas morning.

“yeah. why?” she smiled

“you’re talking to one of the best party planners there is. you also did talk to another one of them… i think”

“fred?”

“oh yeah”

“i wanted to ask if you wanted to come but seeing as to your family is in your house… i’m gonna take a wild guess and say you aren’t available right now” she giggled.

“maybe if you went another day” he said sympathetically. george really wanted to go and prepare connor’s party with her. he treated him like his own and boy did he remind him of how fun it was to be a kid. he loved his aunt so much it was adorable.

“george. seriously, it’s okay. spend time with your family” she laughed.

“yeah, yeah. i’ll see you when you get back” he waved.

—

connor’s small birthday gathering was in full swing. y/n became acquainted with george’s siblings. bill, charlie, percy (whom she was actually friends with back in hogwarts), fred, ron and ginny. hermione was a very good friend of hers and so was harry. she recognized fleur from that day in the cottage as beauxbatons triwizard champion.

connor had quite a bunch of guests for his birthday. cedric, cho, luna, neville, fred, percy, ron, harry, hermione, bill and fleur and their little victorie. of course, billie and charlotte helped george and y/n fix up the party. mr. and mrs. weasley sent a small cake for connor when they heard about y/n not knowing asingle thing about cooking.

fred offered to take care of the twins and connor while george and y/n ran off somewhere. the two found themselves near a small creek. y/n explained how the cottage was where she’d go off exploring and the only person who knew was holly. she was overjoyed when her sister got the cottage she used as a hideaway.

george was surprised when there were lights and blankets and everything. the soft sounds of running water was calming.

the two were pretty intoxicated when they sat down; stumbled onto the picnic blanket. y/n was sober enough to not spill her deepest darkest secrets. george on the other hand…

“have i ever told you how pretty you are?” george mumbled next to her. y/n only snickered and blushed.

“um, can i hold your hand?” he continued, taking a look at the girl next to him.

“sure” she winked.

“you know” he started again “i actually fancied you a bit back in school”

“yeah?” she rolled over to her side “i wonder… what did you like about me?”

“i don’t even know. my heart just felt so full with you. still does, right now, holding your hand, under the stars by a stream.” he had this glint in his eye when he looks at her.

“hey,” she brushed some hair out of his face “these past few months have been great. and you’re a huge help with connor. you know i’ll always be there for you, right?”

“yeah darling,” he yawned “yeah”

“wait, george!” she sat up “no. don’t fall asleep!”

“fuck” she groaned before falling back down on the blanket.

“i think i love you” she whispered.

—

morning rolled around and they were still lying somewhere in the forest behind the cottage. some childish chatter and laughs were heard from where they were still sleeping soundly.

until, a red ant bit y/n and george’s intertwined hands. “ah shit!” y/n woke up from the bite. her yell also woke up the sleeping man next to her “what?! what happened?” he jumped.

“oh. did i wake you up?” she asked.

“no. it’s honestly no worries” he said “but i do have a killer headache”

“an ant bit me” she muttered, wanting to scratch it.

“hey, no don’t scratch! i’ve had a lot if experience with insect bites” he explained “want me to kiss it better?” he teased.

“oh, ha-ha” she rolled her eyes but blushed.

“we should probably head back” he checked his watch while standing up.

—

“ah! there the lovebirds are!” fred exclaimed.

everyone was cleaning up from last night. there were children running around while chasing balloons and each other.

“yeah,” george started “we, um, fell asleep”

“sure ya did” this time ron teased the two.

“i’m gonna clean up here,” y/n offered “you guys should go home. you know, get some rest”

cedric gasped “y/n l/n! are you kicking us out?” he said in mock offense.

“technically, yeah. i doubt connor got any sleep”

“maybe we should,” fleur said with her accent “victorie was very excited for the party she is very worn out”

george snuck behind y/n “i think i love you too” he muttered under his breath. he wasn’t sure if she heard it. she did.

“i’ll see you later, y/n!” he yelled “come on, princesses, we’re going home. we’ll see connor and y/n later”

connor and the twins hugged while y/n said thank you’s to all the guests.

maybe it wasn’t such a bad decision to ask for help.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #harry potter #hogwarts #george weasley imagine #george weasley x fem #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you

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totallyexhausted · 3 years

Text

So, I am re-watching Danny Phantom and the idea of Lancer caring for an ill Danny crossed my mind after I read all the ones I could find. I also toyed with Danny’s powers; him being able to change, obviously, but also seance and see dead spirits (and ghosts; leaving spirits and ghosts as separate entities) walking around. Basically, I upped the rating on Danny Phantom and combined Klaus Hargreeves powers with Danny’s own abilities.

Also, I’ll say, and maybe it’s the song I’m listening to, or the fact that I was reworking Greenberg and Coach from TW, but I got the picture of Danny showing up at Lancer’s door, high off his ass mumbling about Sam, Ghosts, and other teenager things.

…………………………………..

Lance Lancer had never seen a kid so sick, nor did he remember his own son ever being this ill. Danny groaned loudly, curling further into himself, his arms tightly protecting his stomach as his nails dug bloody indents on his forearms. He was shivering, his ghost sense going off every few minutes, creating a barely visible burst of cold air biting back against his sweaty flesh. He clenched his eyes shut as he tried to forget about the spirits flooding the room. As he tried to forget their voices, their screams, their hands brushing over him as they pleaded for him to look. As they begged for him to help.

Lancer bit his bottom lip as he pressed his hand harder against the 17-year-old’s shaking front shoulder, his other trying to work through some of the knots plaguing the boy’s shoulder blades. He shouldn’t have this many tight muscles, this much stress forced in his back at his age… and the fact that Danny seemed to curl tighter into himself, straining his muscles further every time he took a slow, shallow breath, worried the English teacher more.

The teenager groaned again, clenching his eyes shut tighter as he swallowed quickly, letting out a shaky breath. He stilled, hoping his lack of movement would help ease the nausea stampeding through his body and after taking several slow breaths, he relaxed. He hated being sick… not that anyone loved puking their guts out for hours, let alone in someone else’s home, but his ghost sense always made him on-edge, unable to sleep peacefully or unwind. Every spark of Ghost-breath as Tucker called it, sent violent shivers through him making it harder for his body to heat or cool properly.

The last time Danny remembered being this sick was a few days after the Accident. He’d been on a famous “Fenton Family Vacation,” which was just code for some lame ghost-convention his parents attended every year, forcing their two kids to cram in the RV for a 12-hour car trip to some middle-class hotel. Usually, Jazz and Danny occupied their time exploring the city or making fun of the people who attended the convention. But since the Accident a few days before, for Danny, the family vacation turned into 3-days of complete feverish hell as his body tried to figure out how to survive with only half an immune system, half the person he used to be.

There wasn’t much to remember from that experience except cold showers, endless puking, aimless wondering in some sauna-type hotel as Danny tried running from himself, and the vague memory of leaning against his father several times as his mother coaxed him to take whatever foul-tasting liquid she wanted him to drink. Whether or not his parents actually attended the convention, or if Jazz had explored the same boring city, Danny couldn’t remember. But he remembered his parents arguing, his sister cradling him to her chest on the bathroom floor, and at some point, crouching under the bathroom counter as he forced himself small, trying to hide from the green-eyed, white-haired kid in the mirror or the bloody, contorted people following him. Since then, sickness never came easy despite his immune system being half-dead or ghosted or whatever it was Tucker had told him.

The 17-year-old pressed his face against the comforter, lessening the pain shooting through his temples as the thought of puking again slowly began to evade, and his head welcomed the soft cool fabric cushioning the migraine eating away at his jawline. He was lying at the edge of the bed, curled into what had to be a pathetic sweaty ball, his knees pulled halfway to his chest as he braced his arms across his stomach. This was hell. It had to be. Because only some sick fuck would make him miserable, feverishly grasping what little reality he could hold onto, and so nauseous he couldn’t move, away from his parents with only Mr. Lancer as his only comfort. It was some kind of sick joke.

Danny’s stomach churned, and he swallowed hard, his hands clammy against his overheated skin, trying to will whatever else he could possibly still have in his stomach, back down. He stilled again, breathing shallowly through his nose, feeling his stomach relax slightly. He sighed internally, praying to God he was done puking as heat lit through his veins, and Danny lurched, retching loudly as he shut his eyes, willing for everything to stop. He had no strength left to hold himself up; his mind fuzzy and everything hard to piece together through sweaty nauseating moments. He whimpered as he lurched again, retching as bitter acidic bile spewed from his mouth, running down his chin, and the 17-year-old coughed harshly, tightening his grip across his stomach, and clenching his eyes shut as he struggled to breathe through the rest of it.

He felt something wipe across his chin and mouth, his stomach lurching further at the thought of the humiliation of being so exhausted and sick he couldn’t even be bothered to wipe any of his vomit away from him. Danny whimpered loudly, letting foul saliva pool from his mouth as his stomach heaved, hanging his head off the edge of the bed over what he had been hoping for the past two hours was a wastebasket… but considering Lancer had rapidly become more concerned with other ailments such as the teenager’s temperature or the tight muscles straining in his shoulders and back, the 17-year-old was willing to bet the dark wooden floor wasn’t pretty. He’d also been too scared to look, not wanting the guilt of Lancer having to clean up his vomit added onto the guilt and humiliation he already felt.

“Alright. Easy, Daniel. It’s alright… just let it all up. It’s alright,” Lancer said as softly as he could. He was pretty sure the kid was mostly delirious by now, his fever spiking as sweat layered on top of him, soaked through damp clothes and sheets that were plastered to the teenager’s pale skin. He couldn’t even hold himself up anymore, his face pressed against the edge of the bed while Lancer kept a firm grasp on his shoulder so the kid wouldn’t topple off.

Lancer pressed the disregarded and mostly warm rag from the nightstand against the teenager’s face; forehead, cheeks, neck, trying his best to mop up as much sweat as he could, trying to cool Danny off as much as he could without physically carrying him into the bathroom and forcing him under a cold shower. It wasn’t ideal, and Lancer knew from previous experience with his own son, it wouldn’t be pretty; but considering Lancer was currently in charge of the poor kid, he was willing to do whatever was necessary. He’d just never seen a kid so sick.

Lightening flashed outside as a branch scrapped against the glass windowpane, thunder clashing loudly as rain continued to beat against the old house. The small leak in the roof audible in the kitchen as tiny droplets fell against some crappy tin figurines his wife failed to take in the divorce. Lancer had always hated them… but he didn’t have the heart to toss them… or admit to himself that those stupid scrap metal trinkets were his last thread he had tied to her. His last hope that maybe she’d come back. But it’d been 12 years… and she wasn’t coming back. Neither was Charlie.

Danny coughed harshly, flinching as something cool touched the back of his neck, brushing sweaty sticky hair matted to his neck from his burning flesh. He felt like he was on fire. No, worse… his core was always cold, freezing almost; so, his temperature was lower than any other humans. So, the fire eating away at his muscles and memories, was excruciating.

He coughed again, wheezing slightly as his heart skipped. He had to be breathing faster than normal… hell, he was breathing faster than normal. Air sucked through achy lungs and forced out through a dry mouth as his heart tried keeping up the pace. He swallowed, pulling his knees further to his chest, shivering again as his ghost sense went off, and he opened his eyes slightly, wincing as the dark room spun in a multitude of blacks, browns, and dark purples. Red mixed against almost translucent flesh as faces inched closer, and Danny’s stomach lurched, hard, as his eyes met the contorted and split face of a middle-aged man in coveralls.

The teenager choked, swallowing loudly as his stomach cramped again, barely feeling Lancer’s hands trying desperately to work out the clenched muscles in his back. Blood dripped from the man’s face; his appearance split into two as his smile dropped in opposite directions. Normally, Danny could ignore it; ignore them… but it was worse when he was vulnerable. He couldn’t block them out. And to be completely honest, the past couple of months hadn’t been easy on him.

He and Sam had broken up before they ever began dating. Tucker had maintained under the radar both boyfriends and girlfriends while helping his childhood crush, Valerie, pick off the ghosts Danny had missed. They were still close, the three of them; but Sam had been more distant, avoiding plans with Danny when it was just the two of them… and deep down the teenager knew it was his fault. Everything was.

The 17-year-old bit his lip, blood coating his tongue as he buried his nails further against his flesh. Sam had almost died. She had been willing to sacrifice everything for Danny… and that was something Danny would never have been able to live with. He had fucked up. He had tried to help… and she had almost died. The faint tan scars still visible against her neckline, shining as a reminder in the sunlight and under the florescent lighting in the chemistry lab. Since then, she’d been doing her best to avoid Danny, and Danny let her. He couldn’t face her. He didn’t know how.

That had been months ago, but it still flooded the teenager’s mind every time he glanced in her direction. Every time their hands touched in chemistry… every time she forced a watered-down excuse past purple lipstick. The sigh. That sigh. She had been scared of him that night. He saw it. The fear plagued across her face. The horror. And Danny didn’t blame her because he scared himself nowadays too.

He felt colder than he had been in his youth, emotions concrete against things that troubled his peers. His demeanor seemed further away as he toppled over the puny shadow of his early years. He wasn’t a pushover; Dash didn’t come near him anymore… but he was still outcasted, marked freakshow as newer threats and tougher bullies appeared. Sam had borne witness to things Tucker knew nothing about; she had seen a darker side of Danny that the teenager tried so damn hard to hide. But it was getting harder… the spirits were bleeding through more and more, scratching his mind and haunting him with nightmares that kept the 17-year-old up most nights. Nothing was a comfort anymore. Not even his friends. Not even his sister.

The teenager’s stomach lurched again, and he felt cooper flood his mouth as he bit his lip harder, forcing his eyes shut, cutting off the images around him as the spirits continued to scream. He breathed through his nose slowly, feeling Lancer’s hand grip his fingers as he tried to pry the teenager’s grip baring against his sweaty flesh.

“Wuthering Heights, Daniel!” Lancer breathed, still trying to force Danny’s fingers away from his arm as the small bloody marks from his nails became visible. Despite visibly shaking, and his breathing coming in teeth-chattering waves, Lancer was surprised Danny’s grip remained resilient. Likewise, when Danny had grabbed his wrist in the hallway earlier, when Lancer had startled the teenager, his icy-blue eyes daggered towards him, watching the older man’s actions, his fingers tight and threatening around his wrist… Lancer had been taken aback by the teenager’s strength. Just like now.

The English teacher sighed, giving up and pressing his hand against the 17-year-old’s shoulder once more as Danny lurched, coughing harshly. Concern and sympathy ate away at Lancer’s expression; his own actions feeling clumsy and foreign as he tried to soothe the teenager as much as he could. As much as he remembered. But he hadn’t comforted his own son in almost 12 years… and Danny had become much more distant and independent over the past three. So, the comfort Lancer used to try and reassure the kid, felt awkward, just as the sickened pain written across the teenager’s pale face, looked wrong.

The lights flickered above, and Lancer glanced up, hoping he wasn’t going to lose power as that would add to his already worrying list of problems. Lightening cracked again, a tree in the front yard visible momentarily as a branch fell against the window, rain threatening to break glass, and the distant sound of a tornado signal blaring through Amity Park.

Danny whimpered loudly, clenching his eyes as voices cut through his skull, pounding against the pain enveloped in his forehead and cheekbones, trailing down his jawline and neck. The bed spun despite the teenager being curled into a tight motionless ball, sweat falling from his hairline as the smell of body odor reached his nostrils, and the 17-year-old gagged.

Lancer pressed a reassuring hand against the teenager’s shoulder, murmuring he’d be right back before rising, grabbing the lukewarm rag from the nightstand, and trashcan from beside the bed as he made his way towards the kitchen. After replacing the trash bag and running the rag through cold water, Lancer sighed loudly, pressing his hands against the counter as he watched water droplets forming through the small hole in his ceiling and ping against the metal statues harbored on the bar.

He huffed again, running a tired hand over his bald head as he stared at his reflection in the dark window. The electricity shut off as the lights flickered before the microwave beeped loudly as the powerlines fought against the storm. He didn’t need this. And if there was any type of superior being looking out for him, they’d keep the lights on. At least, Lancer would have one thing going for him then.

He sighed again, glancing towards the direction of his guestroom then back towards his reflection. It was nearing 5am, and despite the sun aimed to rise in an hour, Lancer doubted it would bleed through the storm that had showed no signs of letting up. He wished it would, wished the skies would clear… wished flights would take off because that meant Danny’s parents and sister could fly home. They’d be able to take better care their son… they’d know what to do. Lancer didn’t. He hadn’t been a dad in years… he hadn’t looked after someone in years…

Danny had been miserable all day, this had become evident to Lancer in 4th period as he berated the teenager for once again sleeping in his class. His cocky, sarcastic attitude pushing the English teacher to his limit as he awarded the 17-year-old with another days’ detention. But it hadn’t been until later that Lancer began to notice things he should have seen to begin with. The dark circles, pale complexion, the bloody nose, and red tint painted across sharp cheekbones; his voice, cracked and sudden, as Danny retorted sarcasm aimed to hurt… his stare gazing past whatever Lancer had been teaching, staring at nothing but looking at everything.

Lancer shook his head as he glanced down at the red coffee cup and abandoned bowl of cereal lying in the sink. This had not been in his Wednesday evening plans… then again, there was no way in hell Lancer was going to let the teenager go home to an empty house. Lord knows what could have happened, and the fact that Danny’s temperature had spiked in the night, confirmed any doubts the older man had of letting the kid stay with him until his parent’s plane landed, which had been grounded until tomorrow evening, at best.

The older man glanced back towards his reflection, catching sight of the radar flashing across the television in his living room, silently. The storm was huge, coming from the Gulf, pressure building from the North and East as it moved slowly over Amity Park. And it was only expected to get worse which was ironically befitting. Lancer had played with the idea of taking Danny to the Emergency Room several times within the past few hours; the only thing stopping him was the question of what was more dangerous: Danny’s illness or the storm?

Jack Fenton had argued while on the phone with Lancer that he had half a mind to rent a car and drive back, despite it being a 20-hour drive back to upstate New York. But much to the English teacher’s amusement, Mr. Fenton’s plan had been shot down from his wife in the background, asking Lancer the condition of her son. Danny’s sister groaning loudly in the background, yelling something about embarrassment. But that had been yesterday evening…

And now. Danny couldn’t keep anything down, not even the miniscule amounts of water Lancer had encouraged him to take to prevent dehydration. His fever had spiked from 102 yesterday to 104.8 through the night, and most of the hardened demeanor Lancer had come to expect from his pupil over the years, was vanquished within a matter of hours. The tough, fuck-you-attitude Danny had adapted, was replaced with the youthfulness of his age. Only 17. He was still a kid; scared, alone, and whether he wanted to admit it, trying his best not to cause his teacher any further inconveniences than he already had. And despite Lancer finding the teenager’s attempts admirable, he found himself at a loss of trying to convince not only the teenager, but himself, that he only wanted to help, to make the kid feel better. But Lancer was so far out of his parental element, and he’d never seen a kid so sick before.

It hadn’t taken long once Lancer had settled down for the night, warming his hands against a mug of tea, quietly watching the news, for things to take a turn. Danny had been rather quiet during the drive to Lancer’s house, slumped in the passenger side, forehead pressed against frosted glass and still mumbling in disagreement with whoever thought he needed a babysitter every couple of minutes. The 17-year-old had attempted to convince Lancer he was fine, that he felt better since puking in detention, and his parents were overreacting. And despite sloppily scribbling through his homework, half of which the older man was certain Danny hadn’t even bothered to read, the teenager remained sullen, flushed, barely touching the sandwich Lancer had offered.

After some time spent brooding in a chair at the kitchen table, Danny had apparently concluded his English teacher wasn’t going to take him home anytime soon. He seemed more compliant then, taking up to inspecting Lancer’s memorabilia instead, trying his best to leave everything exactly as he’d found it. The older man had admired how careful the 17-year-old had been when picking up photos or knickknacks, casting weird what-the-hell-is-this glances towards his teacher as he explored.

Something sounded to his right, and Lancer blinked, running another hand over his head as he cleared his mind. Most of the things taking up refuge in the old house were objects ghosted with the memories of previous family, previous love, a previous life. He had never had the heart to take them down… it was creepily comforting.

Lancer sighed, reaching for the water-soaked rag puddling on the counter as something moved in the corner of his eye causing the older man to jump. He turned, facing the 17-year-old leaning heavily against the wooden arch of the hallway, shaking as he pressed a hand firmly against the wall for support, the rest of his lanky form hunched.

“Great Gatsby, Fenton! What are you doing up?” Lancer advanced, his tone slightly harsher than intended causing the older man to grimace. The teenager looked fairly close to passing out, a hand on his stomach firmly, the other grasped at flat wallpaper. Sweat trailing down his flushed face, forming in droplets at the kid’s chin before melting into his sweat-soaked shirt. Red set high across the bridge of his nose, painting his cheeks as he opened his mouth to speak before closing it, confusion setting across his features.

Lancer made a move towards the teenager as Danny stepped back, his eyes wide as they observed the older man cautiously. The English teacher raised an eyebrow, taking another step forward, a sick feeling sitting in the pit of his stomach as the teenager recoiled once more. Lancer cursed softly, pushing his hand towards the 17-year-old slowly, his voice low and calm as Danny reeled back. Lancer hesitated, “I’m not going to hurt you, Daniel.”

Danny pressed against the wall as Lancer took another step forward, leaning a shoulder against the wall, his eyebrows furrowing together as he tried to focus on the swimming interior around him. He couldn’t breathe, the air around him sucked from tired lungs, voices piercing through his head as he raised a shaky hand to his ear, wincing loudly as the spirits around him grew louder. He clenched his eyes shut, feeling his body struggle against the wall supporting him as he jerked away, wincing again as questions pelted him, begging, pleading for his help, for him to look. Look. Look! Just look at what had happened to them!

“Daniel?” Lancer questioned quickly, stepping forward again as the teenager gasped loudly, forcing a hand against his left ear as blood began dripping slowly from his nose, his shoulder slamming against the ugly wallpaper, “Daniel? Danny! Hey!”

The 17-year-old felt something brush against his wrist, and he forced his eyes open against the harsh lights flickering above him. Everything was hot, confusing, mashed together in a nauseating off-kilter vibrancy that hurt; his legs refusing to support him, lungs unwilling to take air as panic took over as he tried to clear his head, as he tried to remember where the hell he was.

He grimaced, sliding against the wall as his legs fought to keep him upright. He felt wrong. Everything felt wrong, weird, gone. He swallowed, wiping his nose on the back of his hand, fear crossing his face as he pulled back, red sticky liquid coating his fingertips. Tears threatened to spill as he tried to catch his breath. This was his fault. Everything. And now he had blood on his hands. Sam’s blood.

Piercing cut through as Danny pressed a shoulder to his ear, crying out as the man in coveralls laughed, reaching towards him. Danny dropped to his knees, his fingers trembling as they slid down the wallpaper, forcing a picture of a little boy in a baseball uniform to the ground; the glass breaking around it as it smashed against the wood flooring. Tears clouded his vision as he glanced towards the photo, the blonde-haired kid morphing, mirroring Danny’s own reflection through splintered glass.

“No,” The 17-year-old choked, pulling the photo from the floor, glass splinters slicing his trembling fingers as the kid’s gap-tooth smile distorted. He couldn’t breathe; suffocating fear eating away at him as he realized he was gone. The kid in the photo was gone. Taken, dead, his soul split, lifeless as the portal had taken everything from him. He had died, leaving behind grief and broken disappointment. His friend’s hurt, bleeding out on the side of the road as Danny struggled to hold onto any humanity he had. As he struggled to save those he should have left long ago.

Blood dotted the photo, the boy’s face hidden by crimson, and Danny wiped his hand under his nose again, smearing blood across his face. The innocent boy in the photo was gone; he had killed himself in the Accident, left behind by evil contentment and a nightmarish reality that he’d never been good enough. He was broken, built in a sweetness that no longer existed, a black gaping hole where his soul was, under aching ribs, sweaty skin and a tormented, fucked up version of himself. A black pit of beautiful disappointment. An unlovable thing. He had become something unlovable, the portal killing the good and resurrecting the bad, and even that wasn’t worth much. He wasn’t worth much.

Danny gagged harshly, crumpling the photo in his hands as the leftover glass pressed into his palm. The floor swaying under his body as he grasped the wall for any support he could find. He wanted to go back; to be his parent’s innocent little boy again, to forget about the shitstorm around him, forget about the portal, forget about those he’d hurt, the blood he’d shed. But that was unfixable. He was. And unforgivable. He’d hurt Sam; hurt others, the blood of death splattered on what was left of himself, his human self. And in the end, he was the cause of everything; the collector of souls, the Grim Reaper labelled by Freakshow years ago. The bringer of death.

Lancer took another cautious step forward, crunching down before reaching once more towards the teenager as Danny crumpled sideways, slamming against the wall beside him. The older man faltered. Sweat glistened against the 17-year-old’s face as he gulped for air, his breathing harsh and sporadic as he pressed a trembling hand against his chest, eyes towards Lancer, clearly alarmed by his own breathing. He coughed roughly, doubling over as he caught his breath, and Lancer reached towards the kid, his fingers brushing against the sweat-soaked cotton fabric clinging to Danny’s shoulders.

The 17-year-old flinched, shoving his English teacher away from him harshly, wincing again as he pressed his shoulder to his left ear. He fell backwards, his knees failing him as he slammed against the wall, his head smacking against the small hall table. Darkness swallowed him momentarily, his hands shaking as the photo was crumpled tighter in his hands, letting out a strangled cry as the spirits towered over him, their eyes white, pupils missing as they shouted his name.

The electricity failed as the teenager recoiled violently, and Lancer swore the kid’s cold-blue eyes flashed green before the lights flickered back on, the light in the living room broke, glass shattering to the ground as Danny flinched, gripping one of the iron legs of the hall table, tightly. He eyed Lancer, his knuckles white against black, his forehead pressed against the cold metal, his breathing labored as he pulled his knees towards him in an effort to make his lanky form small.

The 17-year-old coughed, the sound hurting his chest, forcing his headache to crawl, spreading across his shoulders. He grasped at the metal leg of the table, yearning for more cold than the iron rod was willing to give as he sucked in breath after breath. He couldn’t think anymore, the heat had taken everything from him, had taken his core, leaving him with a spinning floor, voices flooding in dizzying waves, and the horrifying notion he was surrounded by death. He had died… the portal had stolen half of him, and now, the nightmares screaming at him, had killed whatever he had left. And the photo crushed in his hand was all he had of forgotten innocence.

Phantom had taken everything. And no one knew. No one understood. The beating, aching heart pounding in his chest was a lie. He was soulless; Phantom was soulless. Welcoming the darkness that swallowed the person Danny once was. And everything else, everything he did, was insignificant. His life was insignificant, a short dull buzz, a flicker. Just shit that happened and none of it meant anything. It was the flick on his lighter as he tried cupping his trembling hands against the wind, trying to spark one of the cigarettes he’d stolen from his father; the light fading, barely there; lighting what has killing him. Because no one wanted Danny Fenton. He was just a mask of stupid disappointment, broken and haunted by his past, damaged by unlovable fear. A shell of a person; a shell of a kid with nothing else to offer the world except the blood he was willing to spill. And then, life moved on.

Something pressed against his wrist, and the teenager yanked it back quickly, clawing at the back of his neck with both hands as he pressed his forehead against his knees, trembling as he tried blocking out all of them. Tried blocking out the tormented and lost souls swallowing him. He clawed again at the back of his neck, pressing his head between his sweaty arms as he rocked on his heels.

Something wet splashed against his joggers, barely noticeable against the heat plaguing him as the 17-year-old coughed. He clenched his arms over his ears as he realized he was crying, hard. He felt sick, wrong, the ghost sense no longer going off because he had nothing else left to give. Tears sliding down overheated flesh, meshing against black cotton as loud pleas left his mouth, the taste of blood sitting on his tongue. Something grabbed his arm, and Danny choked, “Please go away. Please go away. Go away. Go away. Go away...”

His parents would be disappointed. His sister would be a wreck. If they knew. Knew he had killed himself years ago; that the innocence that he once had, was gone; eaten away by the things his parents aimed to hurt. Danny Fenton had surrounded himself in a hypocritical tranquility; believing nothing past the Ghost Zone yet praying to God every night that there was a way out, a way away from himself, from Phantom. Because despite the good he’d done, bad followed him further, bathing his body in the blood of those around him. Sam’s screams, her tears, the fear she felt as Danny shred the last remaining hope of becoming more than the ghost killing him.

Some people deserved to die, and yet, he was the exception. An unkillable thing because the Accident had done that for him; and no amount of pills, cuts, stupid mistakes, or blood could take that from him. A cosmic joke of isolated soulless bullshit. The 17-year-old dug his nails harder into the back of his neck, coughing on the blood in the back of his throat as it smeared further down his chin. Tears mixed with the monster he’d become, crushing his heart as the reality of himself, the fact that no amount of water could wash away the pain he’d caused others, was coated in blood on halfa hands. An unholy thing.

Someone laughed, and Danny flinched, digging harder as something sticky coated his fingertips. The spirits were louder, yelling for him, scratching his skin as they tried forcing him to look; to look at their pain, to look at what had happened to them, at what he had done to them. The 17-year-old gagged as the scent of blood, dirt, and rotting flesh overpowered him. This was his fault. Their lives. Their souls. Death had collected those around him, pulling their individualities from themselves as the teenager tried to hang onto his. Danny was drowning in death, spirits shredding him, ghosts pulling him apart molecule-by-molecule as he constructed more damage than his parents ever could.

Air fell between his lips as his lungs refused to take any more. He couldn’t do this anymore. He needed his friends, his family- but they didn’t need him. They needed Phantom. Leaving Fenton as nothing more than a liability, a liar with cops and parents, a part-time substance abuser as he tried killing what everyone needed. Danny refused to move, pressing his body as hard as he could against the wall as spirits crowded him, ripping skin from his body, screaming for him to look at the damage around him, the lives he had taken.

The grip tightened on his arm, clawing at bruised skin as his world morphed and the ground hovered below him. He was pulled up, his body slamming against the spirits pulling towards him, no longer able to cooperate himself. He gagged loudly as he forced his eyes open, meeting the upside-down bloodied split face of the man in coveralls, an elderly woman praying in the corner, the back of her head blown off revealing dark grey matter.

Danny heaved as some of the grey matter fell from the woman’s white hair to her rosary, liquid meshing against him as the man in coveralls slapped another man, his head decapitating slightly, spewing blood across his vision. The teenager groaned as he glanced towards a German couple screaming at each other in the hall, the wall moving as hot fingers braced against the memories etched in the wood paneling and ugly wallpaper. He whimpered as he locked eyes with a small boy reading in the corner; the boy glanced up from his book and waved towards Danny as the 17-year-old wheezed.

Words passed his ears, muttered and useless as the pleas continued to pierce his mind. Red tears of pain he’d caused, spirits forcing him to look; their bodies distorted and warped as they screamed for the souls he had taken. The ones that had left him, a bloody and tormented ending of human life. His death was coming fast, Danny knew. He could feel it. A sudden drop-off from connection, any humanity left, falling moment-by-moment, a punctuating ending happening so involuntary fast as those would soon realize the monster he had become; realize the death he had collected. Danny retched weakly as the man in coveralls forced his head together, pain screaming from his mouth as lips that no longer wanted to meet, met, and hatred ate away at his features before the heat that fell from the 17-year-old washed over them, their bodies disappearing in the flames.

Danny gagged as the smell of menthol and stale sweat filled his nostrils, his head falling back further as a heartbeat echoed around him. Sweat trailing upward as blood fell back down in a disheveled passion, choking any air left, and the teenager’s body gave out. His eyes connected with the flames engulfing the man in coveralls, his disgust bleeding from his eyes as his face separated again before he disappeared in the fire. Danny whispered, “I’m sorry. I-I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry I couldn’t save anyone…”

His vision failed as he continued floating through those he couldn’t protect… and death swallowed what was left.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Danny had fallen asleep, and relief settled across Lancer’s features as he took another slow sip of his tea, leaning further back in the couch. The teenager had been pretty quiet, but his looks and constant moving had become a distraction to the older man as he tried re-reading Pride and Prejudice. It’d been a long time since there’d been a kid in his home, and Lancer had forgotten how annoying they could be despite wrangling them during class as he desperately tried to pour some type of education into his students.

Lancer set his book down, glancing towards the television as the weatherman showed another map of the storm outside, the pictures flashing silently across the screen as Lancer hit mute. He sighed as rain began to pelt against the roof, the shutters on his windows slamming against the old brick harshly, and thunder echoing around a few other houses in the neighborhood as wind threatened to tear down the old house. It was going to be a long night if the storm kept up and the damage was probably going to cost him a fortune considering his salary wasn’t worth a lot these days.

The teenager coughed, and Lancer turned to see the kid curled at the other end of the couch. His head resting on the armrest at an awkward angle, his knees drawn to his chest as he refused to take any more space than needed, as he tried to force as much distance between himself and his teacher as possible. He shivered slightly, and Lancer wondered whether he should have told his charge to take the guestroom or given him a blanket… or checked for fever. After all, the 17-year-old had been trying to convince the teacher he was fine over the last few hours, but something about him, something about his demeanor told Lancer otherwise.

Lancer sighed again, setting his mug on the coffee table, eyeing the pile of books crammed into the rickety wooden shelf as it slanted forward. He needed to fix it, to buy another one before it fell, or before the weight of the books forced it down. He swallowed loudly as his eyes met the ripped, yellowed copy of Catcher in the Rye, dust coating it as it lay on the top shelf, untouched and abandoned for years. Despite all the books Lancer had reread, all the books he spent his nights enveloped in, that one, that book, he refused to touch… refused to move, to think about, to reread. Memories sat in its pages, crushed between folded pieces of paper from being read over and over, and that was something Lancer didn’t want to revisit, to think about, to remember.

Danny shifted uncomfortably, and the English teacher leaned back again, pulling his book from his lap once more, opening to the page he’d left off on. Considering it was closing in on midnight, Lancer debated heading to bed, but he hadn’t reread Jane Austen in a while. And besides, with the storm raging outside, and a kid he would feel guilty about waking, the older man considered waiting to see if he would need to dig the flashlights from the back of his silverware drawer before making any further decisions.

The ceiling fan sputtered slightly as the lights flickered, and Lancer grit his teeth as the teenager shivered again, his teeth chattered momentarily. Lancer sighed. The situation was uncomfortable needless to say; but Lancer had been a teacher and dad long enough to know that kids were good at hiding things… especially Daniel as he always had some excuse for his tardiness, his absences… his injuries. And a simple cold could turn quickly because most of the students at Casper High were walking petri dishes. Besides, Lancer and Danny’s parents agreed it was best, if the teenager were to become ill, to be surrounded by someone who could look after him or take responsibility for him if he were taken to the hospital seeing as he was still a minor and given the circumstances.

So yeah, the situation was uncomfortable; and Lancer knew that pissed Danny off. But the Fenton’s had gone with Jasmine to visit several Universities, refusing to let their only daughter attend if they couldn’t ensure the campuses were safe from ghosts. An amusing and almost stupid idea but considering Amity Park had seen its fair share of ghosts, not ridiculous. Besides Lancer could understand the Fenton’s concern, their protectiveness over their children as he once had felt it too. He knew what it was like to want to hide your kids from the evil in the world… to protect them, to hurt anything that hurt them, to give them everything. But that was gone now.

The lights flickered again as the screen door slammed against the side of the house. Wind howling outside as the news channel flashed a weather advisory warning across the screen, and Lancer exhaled, setting his book down, and leaning further against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, closing his eyes. It’d been a long day… like most. Lancer spent a good portion of his time trying to keep a classroom of 17-year-olds from laughing over the cringing dramaticism of The Mysteries of Udolpho. Considering most of the books he taught were classic romanticism or gothic, the English teacher understood he was faced with a level of immaturity from his students. After all, it was hard for 17-year-olds to fully grasp the concept of metaphorical and real monsters of society.

The other portion of his day was spent grading poorly written essays over whatever topic he had sought to assign his students for the week. Honestly, Lancer had come to the conclusion that the only capable student in his class, after Jasmine Fenton had graduated two years prior, was Tucker Foley. If only his intelligence would rub off on Daniel, Lancer would have very little to worry about. Clearly, the teenager was capable of decent grades as Lancer had always been surprised when Fenton passed an exam or book report. But he seemed more concerned in his peers, in his life outside academics, to give his grades the attention they needed. He wasn’t stupid, Lancer knew that… and considering he came from a family thriving on higher IQ’s than half the city, the English teacher was sure that if Danny put even a little effort in his studies, he’d have no problem climbing to number one in his graduating class just as Jazz had.

But Jasmine Fenton had been competitive; aiming for greatness through academics and challenging those who threatened her perfect GPA. Daniel, however, competed with his teachers, refusing their help as he challenged them, challenged Lancer on a daily basis. Danny’s comments and cockiness had become a problem in his classroom; his antics or clownishness, difficult, as he proved how very little he cared about his grades. And despite his attitude problem, the older man was almost certain the teenager suffered from ADHD, which would explain his inability to focus most of the time and his forgetfulness.

Today had been no different. And Lancer had given the 17-year-old several chances to correct his behavior, letting his less-than-quiet remarks slide under the radar as he continued teaching. But with the constant bickering between him and Tucker, the annoyed whispers from Sam, falling from his seat twice, and the inability to explain what page the class was even reading from, Lancer had had enough. He’d tried to push back, pointing his ruler in Daniel’s direction and explaining there was an idiot at the end of it; but this resulted in the teenager’s sarcastic question of which end? After the laughter had died down, Lancer retorted that the 17-year-old could find out in detention.

Normally, detention was Lancer’s chance to unwind; to bask in the quiet as he encouraged his students to take the time to go over their studies. But today had been different. Not only had the lights gone out more than twice during his 3-hour prison sentence, but Danny had seemed different than earlier that day. Distracted, his eyes out of focus, shivering, and his quiet, slumped demeanor. Usually, the 17-year-old was pouting, refusing to do any real work, or trying to rally those who shared detention with him. But today he just sat there, quietly tracing some type of drawing on his textbook with his finger, his head resting against his desk.

Lancer had let it go for a while… after all, it was beginning to become obvious something was wrong. But into the 2nd hour, the complete lack of motivation, had become annoying, eating away at the older man’s patience. The other students in the classroom had taken Danny’s character as an invitation to abandon their own work for better things such as texting, making paper planes, or horseplay. Through the 17-year-old’s melodramatic and pitiful attitude, Lancer was losing control of his classroom. That had been when things had taken a turn, going from long to endless.

The older man had risen, scowling the other students into compliance as he made his way towards the cause of his current problem. Lancer scoffed when the teenager didn’t even bother reacting to his presence, but continued tracing over the outline of Thomas Jefferson on his torn-up history textbook. And it hadn’t been until Lancer had slammed his copy of Northanger Abbey on the 17-year-old’s desk that Danny reacted.

He jumped, flinging his book from the desk as he jerked towards Lancer, a look of horror crossing his face as he straightened slightly. The older man crossed his arms, a stern look casted down as he raised an eyebrow while the teenager scrambled to grab his textbook from the floor, flipping to a random chapter. Lancer stood there for several minutes, ensuring Daniel was at least pretending to read the words in front of him, and to enforce his authority as the superior in the classroom to his other students. This didn’t last long.

Once he had situated himself back at his desk, opening his book to the last page he’d read, Danny had raised his hand. Lancer raised his head towards his pupil but ignored him and continued reading. After a few minutes, the teenager put his hand down but forced it in the air a few moments later. Again, the English teacher refused to acknowledge his student’s attempt to leave detention. Normally, Danny would give up and ride out the rest of his punishment, partially compliant. Lancer had learned this during the kid’s Sophomore year; refusing to acknowledge or give the teenager permission for whatever excuse he had, was the only way to ensure he completed detention without further incident.

Lancer watched from his peripheral as the 17-year-old dropped his hand, sighing loudly as he continued scanning the words in his barely passible history book; Lancer smiled slightly. Some quiet had passed, relaxing the mood in the room as the older man felt himself beginning to unwind from the day once again. A few seconds later, however, there had been a noise, and the older man had glanced up to see Daniel rushing from the room, his book once again smacked against the tiled floor. The remaining students had jumped, conversing amongst themselves as their eyes watched the open-door slam against the wall.

Lancer grit his teeth, a scowl crossing his face as he calmly rose, placing his book on his desk before glaring towards the remaining students. They straightened, returning to their tasks as the older man exited the classroom, closing the door gently as he traced over the small indent in the wall from the door handle slamming against it. He shook his head as he glared back inside the classroom to his students watching him before looking busy as the wooden door clicked shut.

Out of all his antics, Danny had never defied Lancer enough to leave. And something in his gut told the English teacher this was either a new low from the teenager or an incident that needed attending to. Lancer had hoped all that was needed was a harsh conversation and another week of detention, but as he rounded the corner past the lockers, the root of the 17-year-old’s behavior became evident.

The older man closed his eyes briefly, sighing loudly as he ran a hand over his bald head and made his way towards the kid. Danny was hunched over one of the trashcans in the hallway, retching loudly as his arms trembled slightly, threatening to bring him down from his own weight. He had expected the unpleasant smell of half-digested food, but what Lancer hadn’t expected was the warmth radiating off the teenager as he reached out to grasp his shoulder. Both him, and the 17-year-old gasped, and Lancer stumbled back slightly as Danny pushed him away, slumping against the wall as he slid to the floor.

Danny had landed with a small smack, and he groaned as he eyed his teacher before closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall. He mumbled something that sounded like a half-assed apology as Lancer inspected his character. Pale, sweaty features set in a flushed undertone as pink ate at his cheekbones. The English teacher ran another hand over his head as he glanced towards his classroom, then back towards his pupil, before turning and advancing towards the class.

After explaining that he felt like cutting detention short due to the storm clouds forming outside, Lancer had gathered his belongings, slinging Danny’s tattered backpack over his shoulder as he crossed through the halls towards the teenager still slumped against the wall, pitifully. He knelt down, reaching a hand out to rouse the 17-year-old, his fingers brushing against his hairline as he made an attempt to check his temperature before the kid jumped. He grasped Lancer’s wrist, pulling it from him harshly, his fingers tight enough around his arm that the older man could feel Danny’s fingernails digging into his flesh.

The teenager’s eyes were locked on his English teacher; the warm blue turning cold and hard as a menacing look crossed his face. Lancer had opened his mouth to speak but closed it a second later as Danny tightened his grip. He’d been surprised by the amount of strength the kid possessed seeing as he always seemed lanky, awkward, and weak. And the threat crossing the 17-year-old’s face sent chills down Lancer’s spine as Danny blinked, releasing his grip before apologizing quickly.

The older man stilled, his eyes glancing over his student as the kid refused to make eye-contact with him. Lancer sighed, offering the teenager a ride home, only to find out that his parents had been out of town for the past few days and weren’t due back until later that evening. And after a very awkward but short conversation with the Fenton’s and finding out their flight had been cancelled due to the oncoming weather, Lancer was driving a pissed off teenager to his own house until his parents returned. Thus, claiming an uncomfortable situation which neither Daniel nor Lancer liked much. But the older man wasn’t a monster… and if a night of letting Danny occupy his guestroom until he was convinced the 17-year-old was fine was what it took, then the English teacher would bare through it.

Lancer sighed again, letting his mind drift as he felt his body relaxing, sleep creeping towards him. Outside, the wind ate away at the chimes and shutters surrounding the house, lightening sparking against powerlines as the lights wavered in and out. Thunder roared overhead, creating a low rumble through the old house as the imminent threat of a tornado loomed in the horizon. But silence engulfed the English teacher as the thought of just resting for a few minutes evaded his tired mind…

It hadn’t been the flinch that woke Lancer, but the loud crash of things falling. Panic clouded his mind as the thought of a tree crashing through the front windows washed over him as he jumped up, cursing loudly. He glanced towards the windows quickly to find them intact and instead turned his attention in front of him as another sound hit him. Heaving.

“Lord of the Flies!” Lancer remarked as he turned his attention towards the sound. The coffee table had been overturned, laying on its side, its belongings littering the floor. And the rickety bookshelf the older man had been wary of earlier, had fallen slightly; its shelves no longer apart of it as the books wedged between non-existent space had crashed to the floor, surrounding Danny as he struggled to breath.

Lancer made his way around the overturned table, crouching down next to the kid as he gagged again, vomit coating his sweatshirt, puddling on the floor below as sweat trickled down his temple. The older man put a steady hand on the teenager’s shoulder, running his hand between his shoulder blades as the muscles in the 17-year-old’s back spasmed between heaves. Lancer let out a slow breath, his voice low and calm, “Alright. It’s alright, Daniel. You’re alright, just get it up. It’s alright…”

The teenager tensed, breathing through his nose lowly as he spit foul-tasting salvia from his mouth, and concentrated on settling his stomach. He felt disgusting, sweaty and embarrassed. He could feel vomit squished between his fingers, and the fact that he had just emptied the contents of his stomach on his English teacher’s floor, mortifying. But considering he had forgotten he wasn’t home, and in attempt to seek out the bathroom, tripped over the coffee table, not only taking it and its belongings down, but falling against the bookshelf, bringing a pile of books crashing to the floor with him, was more humiliating than the acidic puddle in front of him.

Danny closed his eyes briefly, breathing slowly as he leaned back on his knees, scrapping a hand against his mouth and chin. He turned his head towards his teacher but refused to make eye contact because he was afraid of the expression on the older man’s face. The 17-year-old groaned inwardly, setting a hand on his stomach as he let the short silence pass over them; the television cutting off then flicking back on a second later.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Lancer asked softly as he glanced around at the state of his living room. Surely, the shelves or books had fallen on top of the kid when he fell, and given the state of the coffee table, Lancer was betting the kid had tripped over it or something. The splintered shelves could have cut him, or his foot could have gotten caught on the ledge, and injury wasn’t something the older man really wanted to add to his list of problems right now.

Danny was quiet for a while, making brief eye contact with Lancer before looking back towards the floor. He swallowed loudly against the hiccups forcing themselves up his throat and hunched his posture further. He looked downright miserable which didn’t help Lancer’s current situation. The 17-year-old swallowed again before muttering quietly, “Sorry, I’ll help you clean up… I’m sorry about all the mess.”

Lancer sighed, relief washing over him as the kid finally spoke. He ran a hand over his head as he bowed his head, trying to get the teenager to look him in the face, “That doesn’t answer my question, Mr. Fenton. Are you hurt?”

Danny froze for a few seconds before meeting the teacher’s gaze slowly. He shook his head, his body twitching slightly as hiccups still resonated through his chest. Lancer nodded, glancing over the kid quickly, looking for any visible injuries but finding none, and ran his hands over his knees before standing, exhaling loudly.

The wind howled outside, and the branches on the tree outside knocked against the window forcefully as Lancer glanced towards the clock hanging on the wall. It was around 2am, which answered two questions: Was he to be expected at school tomorrow and was he going to get any sleep tonight. The 17-year-old coughed gently, and the older man turned his attention back towards the teenager.

“Well,” Lancer started carefully, “Let’s get things cleaned up.”

Danny cast his gaze back towards the floor as he moved to pick up one of the books next to him. Lancer crouched down again, pulling the book from the kid’s grasp, “What are you doing, Daniel?’

The teenager glanced up slowly, “You said to clean-”

Lancer shook his head, cutting the kid off, “The state of my living room doesn’t concern me right now, Mr. Fenton. You, however, do. Despite what you and your friends may think of me, I’m not heartless.”

Danny’s expression shifted as the older man grasped the kid’s arm, pulling him to his feet. He put a hand on the teenager’s shoulder as he swayed slightly, an eyebrow raised as a silent question flashed across the teacher’s face. The 17-year-old swallowed and gave Lancer a weak nod before crossing his arms over his stomach gently, stepping around the chaos as he followed Lancer into the hallway.

He shivered harshly as his ghost sense went off, and his eyes danced over the photos nailed against the ugly wallpaper in the hallway. Pictures of family- of times no one at Casper High knew of; a different side of the English teacher never shown. Danny lingered on the photo of a young boy with blonde hair, a huge gap-toothed smile swallowing his face as he held his ice cream cone towards the photographer. Confusion crossed the teenager’s face as he glanced over some of the other photos, the blonde kid present in almost all of them… and a pretty woman in a few others, posing next to the kid. As far as everyone knew, Lancer didn’t have kids, and he wasn’t married.

His ghost sense went off again, and Danny shivered as he paused momentarily, the photos around him blurring together, spinning into a colorful mess as dizzying fatigue washed over him, his limbs shaking as they fought to bring him down. He made a slight noise as he glanced towards the end of the hall, towards a small boy hiding behind a half-closed door; his green eyes huge and alarmed as he watched the teenager. Danny swallowed, Lancer’s questions floating over him as the boy peered further out the door, motioning for the 17-year-old to follow.

The teenager made an attempt to move, the hallway spinning as the pictures on the wall melted together in an array of sickening colors, and Danny blinked slowly as several spirits began to crowd around him, blood forced from gruesome wounds. A sharp noise escaped his mouth as he glanced back towards the boy, only to find the doorway empty, the door fully open now. Chills washed over him as his knees gave out, and his ghost sense sparked again.

Someone grasped at him, a hand gripping his arm while another snaked over his torse, pulling him back on his feet. Black filtered through Danny’s vision momentarily as his body went limp before he groaned, looking towards his left as Lancer adjusted his grip on his torso, asking something Danny couldn’t grasp. The teenager’s feet dragged against the wooden floor as he struggled to gain his footing, but his legs felt clumsy and foreign. He felt like shit, weird, split into two, leaning heavily against his teacher as the older man led him slowly down the hall, towards the room that’d been previously occupied by a scared little boy.

The 17-year-old hadn’t realized he’d been deposited on a bed until everything stopped moving. The room swaying slightly but no longer spinning in a multitude of nauseating colors. Heat pressed against his body as he glanced over the side of the bed towards the boy he’d seen earlier, hiding behind the rocking chair in the corner. His eyes fixed on the teenager as cold air pushed past Danny’s lips, and he shivered again, turning towards the ceiling fan as his shoes were slipped off his feet, followed by his socks.

He groaned as Lancer pulled his hoodie over his head gently, forcing his arms from the sleeves, leaving him shivering against the warmth dotting against his skin. He was freezing. His ghost sense going off every few minutes, causing his body to ice, goosebumps breaking out over his arms as warmth rushed through him a second later. He blinked slowly, feeling something press against his forehead, and he squinted towards Lancer leaning over him.

“We need to get that fever down, Daniel,” He whispered, running his hands through the kid’s messy black hair. Danny groaned, tuning out his teacher’s movements as he turned back towards the boy hiding behind the chair, hoping that this was as worse as his night got…

……………………………………………………

Heat. Heat blistered against tired flesh and limbs that refused to move… and warmth. Warmth pressed against bruised flesh gently, killing the heat sweating against him, weighing him down in thick blankets. Warmth poured over him, comforting him, drowning the confusion and panic etched in his veins, and Danny suddenly found himself calling to his childhood memories.

“M-mom?” He whispered, his voice barely audible as it scratched past his throat, rough and raw. He swallowed harshly, trying to force his eyes open but finding the task difficult. His body felt heavy, weak, tired… he felt like he had gone several rounds with Skulker… or someone worse.

“Shh, don’t talk, Daniel,” Someone said softly, and Danny blinked slowly, squinting against the dim lights swaying next to him. He shivered as shadows danced around him, and he groaned loudly as he tried pushing himself up. Strong warm hands pressed against his chest, keeping him in place as any strength the teenager had, left him momentarily.

Warmth threatened to pull him under again, and Danny swallowed, his head lolling to his right as he forced his eyes to stay open against flickering, dancing lights. Something pressed against his temple, his cheek, his neck, dampening the fire momentarily wherever the warmth touched, lingering against his skin just long enough to cool the sweat clammed against his body.

Danny coughed harshly as he opened his eyes sluggishly, unaware he had closed them, and he glanced around disoriented, his neck aching from the little effort he put into turning it. His vision wavered slightly, and the 17-year-old groaned as he made another feeble attempt to move only to be stilled by calm hands.

“Just relax, Daniel. Otherwise, I might be obliged to add to your weeks’ worth of detention,” Someone chuckled softly, and Danny forced his eyes open again, “Mr. L’ncer?”

The 17-year-old winced as his voice met his ears, weak and small; the syllables barely leaving his mouth as his tongue felt heavy against his teeth. He swallowed, his mouth feeling cottony and thick as his eyes lazily met his English teacher’s face hovering above him; a stern expression settled on tired features.

The teenager groaned loudly, closing his eyes briefly as the room began to spin, leaning his head back as he listened to the silence surrounding him. A quiet popping echoing around him, and Danny squinted, noticing several candles sitting on the counter and next to him, their flames flickering wildly. Confusion crossed his face as Lancer leaned further over him, “The power went out a while ago, so I had to improvise as I couldn’t find any batteries for the flashlight.”

The older man held up the flashlight, shaking it gently as confusion continued to sit on the 17-year-old’s face. He blinked slowly as he tried to piece together everything. But it was hot. And he felt weird, sick, his mind a muddled mess of exhaustion; his headache still pounding behind his eyes. He tried moving again, sitting up slightly before being pushed back down gently as Lancer sighed, “I swear, Mr. Fenton, do you ever listen?”

Danny swallowed, doing his best to understand his surroundings. He sighed loudly, letting his head fall behind him as he slowly connected the dots. He was in a bathroom. More importantly, he was lying in a warm bath, shivering against the heat beaded on his skin. And more embarrassingly, Lancer was soaking washcloths in the water, pressing them against his face, wiping down the sweat that was forming on Danny’s body. It took him longer than he liked to realize his shirt was gone, gentle fingers pressing lightly against his torso, covering every inch of heat that surrounded the bruised and scarred flesh. Whether or not he was wearing further clothing wasn’t something Danny tried to think about, and if he had the energy, he would have protested this level of comfort. This level of embarrassment. This level of weakness. But he felt too tired, too sick, and too hot to care.

Something moved in his peripheral, and Danny peered at the end of the tub to find the boy from earlier sitting on the edge, his gaze still watching the teenager. He bent down slightly, his blonde hair covering his face as he touched the water before jerking his hand back and shivering. Warmth hit him as Lancer washed over his chest, and the 17-year-old squinted, his eyes still watching the boy, refusing to let his exhaustion overpower him.

The boy disappeared momentarily before returning to his spot at the edge of the bathtub, a rubber duck in his hand. He set it in the water gently, pushing it in Danny’s direction before smiling widely, his two front teeth gapped, three missing from the bottom. The 17-year-old stirred, pressing against Lancer’s hands as his eyebrows furrowed together, and he yelled, “Hey!”

The boy jumped from the ledge, fear setting on his face as Danny struggled against his teacher’s grasp. His ghost sense went off, goosebumps breaking out over his naked skin as the boy disappeared, and the teenager let out a strangled cry as he shoved Lancer’s hands away, leaning over the edge, water splashing to the floor as he scanned the hallway for the boy. The 17-year-old gripped the slippery ledge of the tub as he scrambled to pull himself up, water slapping against the ground loudly.

Lancer gripped the kid’s shoulders, forcing him back down as alarm crossed his face. He held the teenager down as the candles flickered, water soaking into his khakis as the 17-year-old continued to thrash. The older man let out a quick breath as he tried grabbing the kid’s attention, “Daniel! Danny!”

The teenager stilled, his gaze moving from the hallway towards his teacher as his nickname left Lancer’s mouth. The older man sighed softly as he felt the kid’s body relax, his grip loosening on the bathtub as the teacher eased him back down. The alarm that crossed Danny’s face earlier, vanishing as confusion set in, his head smacking once again against the back of the bathtub as exhaustion ate away at his features.

He exhaled loudly as Lancer pressed a washcloth against his forehead, leaving it there for several minutes before repeating the action. Danny swallowed softly, closing his eyes against the dimly-lit room as his teacher cleared his throat, “I’m sorry about the circumstances, Daniel. But your temperature spiked again causing you to pass out, and I had no other way of bringing it down quicker. I know it’s uncomfortable. My son freaked too.”

Danny turned towards his teacher’s voice but kept his eyes closed as his mind spun violently. He furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to understand the information, as he tried to recall the pictures on the wall in the hallway. He coughed, sweat dripping from his hair plastered against his face, “The kid…”

“In the photos. Yeah,” Lancer sighed, wiping across the teenager’s chest again before pressing another rag against his forehead, “He passed some time ago… a car accident.”

The 17-year-old’s eyes opened slightly as he met his teacher’s sad smile before his focus lazily danced towards the hallway. The boy stood there, leaning against the doorway as he fumbled with the zipper on the bottom of his blue jacket, worry flashing across his face as he met Danny’s gaze. The teenager swallowed again, closing his eyes as he turned his head away from the door, sweat rolling down his cheeks as it dripped from his chin.

“Hey…” He muttered softly as he tried calling the boy closer, as he tried to connect the dots. He felt like shit. Even after being extremely sick after the Accident, he didn’t remember it feeling like this. Then again, that had been 3 years ago… and Danny hadn’t really been sick since. But maybe that had to do more with Phantom. Maybe he’d left… leaving the 17-year-old as a barely alive thing. Maybe this was his immune system dying, the other half giving out as it had struggled to survive with half function over the years. Maybe this was the portal killing the other part of him, claiming what it had started.

Danny’s teeth chattered loudly as he shivered against the warmth, “I shou-should call my parents…”

“I assure you they’re fine, Mr. Fenton,” Lancer said calmly, rewetting a washcloth and pressing it against the teenager’s neck, “They’re just concerned, trying to find a quicker way back to New York… unfortunately, the storm is making that difficult.”

The 17-year-old swallowed slowly, confusion washing over him before swallowing again. He coughed, his throat raw and his mouth dry like sandpaper, feeling his mind slipping, the reality he could understand becoming harder and harder to grasp. Everything was muddled, fuzzy, hard to comprehend.

“I- I should call them,” He muttered softly, “Apologize for killing myself… they’re going to be-be so- disappointed in me…”

Lancer froze, alarm flooding through him as he choked. He watched the confusion on Danny’s face melt, his features relaxing slightly as moments passed. The older man turned the teenager’s face towards him, shaking his shoulder gently as he let out a sharp breath, “What? Mr. Fenton- what! What does that mean? Daniel? Daniel- Danny!”

The kid whimpered but other than that, showed no sign that he had even heard Lancer’s questions. The English teacher took a few slow breaths, closing his eyes as he forced the panic back down. Perhaps he had misheard… or the 17-year-old’s temperature was getting to him. Hallucinations and muddled speech were common, so perhaps, that’s all it was. Thoughts of a delusional and feverish mind.

Then again, Danny’s attitude had shifted over the years as he still maintained his cocky and sarcastic demeanor… but darker things lurked over him. Lancer knew the kid smoked from time-to-time, and he had heard from a few rumors that Fenton had become no stranger to weed or alcohol. Then again, the aspect of rebellion was fairly common in teenagers, and Lancer couldn’t see the Fenton’s letting their son get away with anything too serious. But perhaps they didn’t know… perhaps they didn’t know about their son’s newer habits. Or the fights. The grades. The attitude problem. The bruises or scars. Perhaps Danny was hiding his true self from them just as he was from his peers.

But it wasn’t Lancer’s place. Not exactly. Sure, he cared for the kid, as he did for many of his pupils. But Jack and Maddie had become neighborly to him after the loss of his son, and the divorce. They expected Lancer to keep Jasmine and Daniel on the straight-and-narrow when they entered high school… which Jazz was no problem… but Danny. Danny was a different story.

Every direction Lancer took, the 17-year-old steered in the opposite direction. And it seemed even worse the last couple of months. Lancer knew something had happened between Fenton and Manson… and Danny seemed really broken up about it. After all, he had overheard Foley’s comment that the two had begun dating… among other things. And rumors were they’d been caught in the Janitor’s closet several weeks prior… But for the past few months, both Danny and Sam could barely sit next to each other, let alone look at each other. And most of the flirting Lancer had come to expect from the two, was replaced with cold stares, harsh short comments, and feeble excuses as to why they couldn’t work together.

Something sounded behind him, and the English teacher jerked, turning his head quickly towards the hall, squinting against the flame’s shadow dancing over the dark doorway. He scanned the empty area before closing his eyes briefly, breathing slowly through his nose, allowing his thoughts to calm as thunder roared overhead. Most nights Lancer could swear his house was haunted. Haunted by the memories of his past, the memories of his wife, his son… the life he missed every day. But that was ridiculous. An idealization deluded from the minds of Jack and Maddie Fenton… and nothing more.

The lights flicked several times as one of the lightbulbs above the bathroom counter popped, before burning out. The TV in the living room spluttering to life, news blasted through old speakers loudly before silence and darkness once again evaded the small house. Lancer sighed, running a hand over his head, listening to the rain pelt against the roof. Despite it being close to 10am, the storm hadn’t ceased… in fact, it seemed worse with every passing hour which was ironically befitting given Lancer’s current situation, and Danny’s condition.

The English teacher sighed loudly, wringing another washcloth out before pressing gently against the teenager’s forehead, cheeks, and neck as lightening cracked against the house. The 17-year-old whimpered softly, his eyebrows drawing together momentarily before Lancer shushed him, forcing another rag against his forehead lightly. Despite trying his best to bring the kid’s fever down, the older man was more than certain he was doing little to cause a significant change in the teenager’s temperature. Or at least it felt like that.

When the 17-year-old had passed out in the hallway, collapsing against Lancer the second he was pulled from the floor, going limp in his arms as the older man tried his best to hold Danny as gently as he could, Lancer had been at a loss. But when the lights spazzed, the shutter door slamming against the entryway and the power gave out, Lancer was close to both panicked tears and self-consumed anger.

He’d been angry over the situation. Over the power going out, the storm wreaking havoc outside and forcing flights to ground. Angry with his own useless attempts to soothe the teenager he thought he could care for. Angry he hadn’t taken Danny to the Emergency Room earlier and angry, that in spite of everything, the teenager seemed to be getting worse rather than better. Panic had eaten away worry and concern, leaving fear racing through thoughts riddled with questions; his own parental instincts, despite having died long ago, blaring as every sound, every cough, every whimper, and every unconscious groan that whispered from the 17-year-old’s mouth, sent Lancer’s senses on high alert.

Something that had scared Lancer more than he could account for was the fact that the 17-year-old was crying, hard, and his temperature. The moment he was near, the heat melting off Danny was deeply concerning, sweat plastered down pale flesh, dripping in puddles down his face and soaked through hand-me-down clothes Lancer had given him earlier. The teenager had been on the verge of hyperventilating when Lancer pressed his hand against his forehead, worry and panic lacing his tired mind as Danny cried harder, pleading with fevered hallucinations to leave and forgive him.

The thought of which was worse, the storm or Danny’s illness, no longer a debate but a firm decided answer that should have been sought long ago. But Lancer wasn’t sure if he would be able to find his keys in the dark, the rain pounding sideways against the windows as it threatened to break glass… and even though it was early morning now, the sun having rose two hours prior, it was still black as hell outside. Lancer’s own attempts to calm the teenager were futile. He was out of his element… so beyond his own familiarity, and he had forgotten how to soothe his own child. Lancer needed help, he needed another adult, and Danny needed a parent, but the older man hadn’t been a parent in a long time…

…………………………………………………………………………………….

He wasn’t a hero. Because a hero wouldn’t do this. A hero couldn’t. And Danny Fenton was no hero. He’d shed blood through Phantom hands, ghosted in hellish torment as he sat, throne to bodies and souls collected at his feet. Human hands forever red with mortal lives, halfa instincts more dead than alive as Fenton became a facade for Phantom. A mask. A plaything. A puppet of normality and bitter resentment as Phantom was forced to live in a barely alive flesh suit. And now, only now, was the teenager hit with the realization that he was no hero. He’d never been.

He’d been a boy. Stupid and ignorant in childish idealization, playing make-believe, costumed in his parent’s clothes, pretending to be something more. Something better. But he wasn’t. He was joke. A harsh cosmic occurrence of puny humanity and preemptive temperament of selfish actions. Cocooned in the tranquility of his youth as he tried to convince himself that he was more than the blood dripping from halfa hands, that he was the savior of death instead of the bringer. But he’d been stupid. Weak. Pathetic. Insignificant. A joke.

Danny Fenton was a joke of unlovable fear and horrible outcomes. Death followed him. Shadowed by terrible posture and cold features. Sam had fallen for the wrong boy. Had loved the wrong boy. Fenton wasn’t a hero. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t save her… fuck, he couldn’t save anyone. He was just a stupid kid with stupid luck. A false identity born to humanity, mirrored from the reality of Phantom, a messenger, a front for what had killed him years ago. Fake bravery. Fake chivalry. Everything fake.

Ectoplasm oozed down his temple, sliding past his left cheekbone, gathering at his chin as sweat and dirt fell past, splattering against ashen snow and green puddles of forgotten souls. Blood pooling from open wounds, forced between busted knuckles and broken fingers as red stained white. Danny choked, his fingers pressing tighter across Sam’s neck as blood gushed from wounds he couldn’t close… from a death he couldn’t stop. From a love he couldn’t lose.

The purple haloed around Sam no longer vibrant or visible through dark crimson, eaten away by the innocence of her youth, and the immorality dripping from Danny. He wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t a good guy… and Phantom? Phantom couldn’t save her. Phantom couldn’t save anyone. Ever. But Phantom wouldn’t have done this… he couldn’t. Fenton had.

Fingers slipping from flesh, Sam’s necklace pulled from her neck as Danny fought for a better grip, forcing the broken bones in his right hand to bend, to curve, to keep blood from puddling around him… to fix this. But he couldn’t. There wasn’t a way to fix it. A way to fix death. To restore what was lost. What he had taken. What he had always taken. Over and over and over again.

And now, because he wasn’t willing to live without Phantom, Fenton had destroyed the one thing he loved more than anything. The one girl he loved more than anyone. The one girl willing to fight for him instead of Phantom. But that had been a mistake. Sam loving him had been a mistake. He and Sam had been a mistake. An intimate beautiful mistake.

Danny wasn’t the same person she’d fallen in love with. He wasn’t the same person he used to be. He was different. Darker. Quieter. Colder. He was awkward in his own shadow, uncomfortable in a foreign skin as he allowed Phantom more and more control. Danny Fenton was a waste. Danny Phantom wasn’t. He was the thing people needed. But Phantom wasn’t the one Sam had loved. He wasn’t the one she trusted. He wasn’t the one she tried so desperately to save… He wasn’t the one who had killed her.

The fight was over the second it’d begun. Box Ghost had slipped through the Ghost Zone, followed by Skulker and Johnny; the three musketeers of complete failure as they threatened to destroy the state of New York. But Danny had barely broken a sweat. Ghosts were easier now; less challenging than in his youth, repetitive and old, and most of the time, the teenager had bigger things to worry about. Like Spirits. The Veil. The Spirit World. And Vlad. There was always Vlad fucking Masters. A pain in the Fenton family ass… not that Jack would ever admit it.

Snow had started littering the ground in heavy flurries by the time Vlad appeared. Danny had sat on the park bench for hours, waiting for the stupid pointy-haired bastard to make an appearance; after all, Danny had gotten his message the night before when he was pulled into the Veil. He always got the message while in the Veil. He wasn’t welcome. He was never welcomed. And the Spirits collected within made sure he knew it, made sure he stayed long enough to understand the damage he had caused, the lives he had fucked, and the lives he had taken. Many in the Spirit World knew him, but he knew very little about them.

Despite knowing almost everything about the Ghost Zone, the teenager knew almost nothing about the Spirit World. About summoning. The Veil. The Spirits. He only knew how to tune them out, but the older he got, the more his power grew, the harder it was to keep them in check. Too many times had he been caught in public, or with his parents, or his sister, talking, ranting, yelling or even fighting Spirits that refused to leave. He couldn’t block them out. Their voices, cries in the dark, hands pulled through murky water towards his body as he dreamed, screams echoed through restless thoughts. They were getting harder to ignore… harder to kill.

Drugs didn’t really work anymore, barely a dull buzz of quiet whispers, and other outlets were laughable options. Weed made it hard to focus between Fenton and Phantom, his abilities harder to control… and the Spirits had barely left. Ecstasy was great, the screams a distant thought, the Spirits warping into smokes of green, yellow and red; but Phantom disappeared too, refusing to appear for several days after. And Acid… Acid just made the teenager more jittery, more paranoid, more on-edge than he already was.

Vlad had taught him a few tricks to keep the Spirits quiet enough to function before he died. He’d promised to teach Danny more, but his death made that almost impossible. Unlike the Ghost Zone, the Spirit World lacked a supernatural possession; rather turning anyone such as Vlad, normal and human- barely able to summon Danny through the Veil to talk. And Danny? Danny’s powers were pretty much useless inside the Veil, humanity coursed through fragile bones, muscle, and skin as blood beat through a half-alive thing. The teenager could barely summon, barely survive a night in the Veil, of being pulled through, forced out-of-body through airless lungs and the stillness of a barely beating heart.

In the Spirit World, the teenager was human. So very human. And so very vulnerable. A War progressed through the Veil, the Spirits capable of darker, more sinister realities than Ghosts such as Skulker or Freakshow could ever procure. A world of Death. True Death. The promises of the Ghost Zone vanquished through shreds of paper-thin souls of victims to the War. Death in the Spirit World meant no Ghost Zone after. No other World beyond. No connection or tie back to humanity. To the Human World. Nothing. Just black. Just…

The 17-year-old’s ghost sense had been going off for hours; his teeth chattering as he pulled the thin green jacket closer, cursing Vlad for taking his sweet time. To any untrained individual, the teenager appeared to be alone… but Danny was never alone. Not anymore. His shove through the Veil on his 16th had killed any isolation or solitude he had. They were always there. Always watching. Always with him.

The teenager grit his teeth as he smacked his head against the bench behind him, staring towards the grey sky as white dust fell in clumps, blanketing Amity Park… and most likely, the rest of New York. The weather had been unpredictable lately; a chaotic shitshow of indescribable patterns, something his father chalked up to some weird readings in the Ghost Zone. Despite never really seeing a ghost, his parents still obsessed over them, inching closer and closer to diving into the portal with each passing week. But Danny, Danny wished he’d never have to see another fucking ghost in his life.

More and more of the transparent bastards had been slipping through the portal lately. Part of that was Danny’s fault. The other, unknown. Valerie had helped pick up the slack, along with the Fenton Duo, but the teenager had more important things to worry about like Spirits. The harder they were to ignore, the more of them appeared… and they could touch him. Hurt him. Kill him… the scars plastered against his right ribs should be evident enough to speak to their danger. He’d barely survived his first trip through the Veil, and Vlad kept pulling him fucking through… mainly because summoning wasn’t something the 17-year-old had mastered yet. And with Vlad dead, Danny doubted if he’d ever actually be able to master summoning… leaving no hope for resurrection.

Something kicked against the teenager’s red converse, and Danny shot up quickly, expecting Vlad to be standing over him. A smile crawled across his face as his eyes met Sam, her black hoodie blowing viciously against the winter air, small specks of white clinging to the fabric. She kicked his foot again, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear, “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Danny smirked, forcing his hands in his pocket, his right hand clamped around the red lighter he had stolen from his dad’s secret stash. Whether or not Jack Fenton had noticed a few of his smokes were missing, the teenager would never know. After all, if his father ended up confronting him about it, then that meant Jack would also have to come clean to Maddie about smoking… something he supposedly gave up a few years after Danny was born.

Sam slumped down next to him, her shoulder hitting his as Danny turned towards her, smiling. Sam rolled her eyes, her purple lipstick twisting into a grin as she leaned her head against his shoulder. She sighed, “So, I take it Vlad hasn’t shown?”

The 17-year-old shook his head, before clearing his throat, “No.”

“That’s pretty unusual for him, isn’t it?” She asked, pulling her head up as wind forced her hood down, short black hair flying chaotically. She glanced in Danny’s direction as he flicked some snow off his jeans. He hadn’t really thought about Vald’s behavior- about his pretty punctual habits, but now that it was mentioned, it was rather worrisome the older man hadn’t shown yet. Especially given he seemed rather paranoid the night before. But surely, the older man would have said if he was in danger.

Danny shrugged his shoulders, meeting Sam’s gaze, biting his bottom lip. Pieces of ice clung to her hair, freckled across her face, and the 17-year-old hesitated, before brushing his thumb across her cheek carefully, wiping away some of the fallen snow. He paused, his fingers pressing gently against her jawline, following the curve softly before Sam pressed her hand over his. Danny froze, warmth flooding his face as he refused to advert his gaze.

Sam had been weird lately. She’d been acting weird… almost feminine… which was weird for both Tucker and Danny as they had always seen her as one of the guys. But between a few awkward non-date dates, a few fake-out make-outs, and being caught half-naked in the Janitor’s Closet a few weeks prior when Danny had phased through the wrong room after a fight; Danny was finding it harder to act normal around her. And then there was the Annual Winter Dance last month which neither Sam nor Danny refused to acknowledge, involving some sloppy drinking, heated kissing, and one awkward morning after at the Fenton household as Danny tried sneaking Sam from his room only to be caught by his sister.

Since then, Sam had become more… Well, it was hard to explain because Danny was pretty sure he’d become more of it too. Every moment he was around her, it seemed like he had reverted back to his weird, awkward, clumsy demeanor. He couldn’t talk around her anymore, let alone act normal anymore. His ghost sense unpredictable, his powers uncontrollable as his body forgot how to be him around her. He couldn’t eat or sleep and paying what little attention he normally did in class, unbearable. He couldn’t get Sam out of his head. Her purple lipstick. Her laugh. Her hands clasped around his. Her mouth… Her. And it was driving him insane.

Mentioning it to anyone was out of the question. Tucker had them married in 9th grade. His parents were too hyperactive and weird to be able to deal with their only son dating- let alone his sister’s recollection of her very awkward first date that involved more of Jack Fenton than Danny wanted to picture. And Jazz? Jazz had freaked when she had caught Danny and Sam together the morning after the Annual Winter Dance, forcing both teenagers to attend a lecture involving responsible actions, so asking Jazz for advice was out of the question. Honestly, Danny had found some console in Vlad, but that bastard’s advice was wishy-washy and outdated.

Sam’s fingers brushed over the rough scars on his hand before she trailed up his arm. Her hand hesitating on his shoulder before cupping the back of his neck, her fingers tussling his hair softly. The wind whooshed past, snow raining over them as Sam met the 17-year-old’s gaze, a small smirk painted across purple lips. Danny shivered slightly, brushing his thumb over her cheek again, “I-”

“Shut up,” Sam cut him off, pulling herself from the bench as she pressed her lips against his, pushing the 17-year-old back slowly as he dropped his hand from her cheek, trailing down her shoulder slowly, arm, back. He inhaled loudly, a hand pressed against the small of Sam’s back, the other pressing her closer to him as she kissed him again, one of her hand’s slipping underneath his shirt. Cold fingers pressed against the warmth on his back. Black nails scrapping gently over scarred flesh, fingers through black hair, and Danny’s hands dragging her closer. Sam was driving him insane… but maybe this time, they could acknowledge it… maybe this time, he could tell her how he really felt.

Maybe this time he could tell her he couldn’t get her out of his mind. That he couldn’t concentrate around her, he couldn’t get that night at the dance out of his mind… that she made everything better, made everything okay. He needed her like he needed air. She was a reminder that he was still alive, that he was still human, that he was still more than Phantom. Because she seemed to want him more than Phantom… She liked him. Not Phantom. And that- that was all Danny ever wanted from someone. From her…

Her nails scrapped harder against his back as Sam straddled him; her hair flying in the wind, covering her face, smacking against Danny’s face comfortingly. His hands gentle as they trailed down the rest of her back, her thighs, holding her steady against him. Her lips forceful against his, nails marked against skin, her heart pounding against his. She breathed deeply, “Danny…”

“Well, isn’t this nice,” Someone sneered. Danny pushed Sam off him gently, jumping to his feet as he pressed Sam behind him, his stance protective as he met the stranger’s gaze. The 17-year-old watched as a woman stepped forward, a smirk on her face as she pushed some of her long blonde hair behind her ear. She eyed the 17-year-old, sizing him up as she walked around the small bench. She scoffed, “They said the halfa was young, but I never would have thought this young… Tell me, handsome, do you even know how to tie your own shoes?”

Danny tensed, “Do you want to find out?”

The woman laughed loudly, circling them once more before standing a few feet from him, “Oh, and that wit. I bet you’re a troublemaker, uh?”

She crossed her arms, straightening her posture until she was eyelevel with him. Her skin almost translucent against the white ground, blood dotting against her neck where a necklace should have been. Her bright pink and blue jumpsuit standing out against the snow, fitting the ideal clothing for an 80’s teenager… her blonde hair in half-buns, purple triangle earrings dangling from her ears. She laughed again, shaking her head, her red lipstick twisting slightly as she peered towards Sam.

Sam had risen from the bench, pulling her hoody back over head as her hair still fought against the wind. She forced the sleeves past her hands, her fingers intertwining gently with Danny’s as the 17-year-old stepped forward, “Where’s Vlad?”

The woman cocked her head, her smile offsetting as she held up her hand, inspecting her chipped blue fingernails, “I wouldn’t worry about Grandpa anymore. He’s been taken care of.”

The teenager swallowed, dropping his hand from Sam’s as he took another step forward, his hands burning slightly as Phantom threatened to appear. Danny swallowed, “What did you do to him?”

The woman laughed again, shoving her hands on her hips as she faced the 17-year-old again, “You’ve become quite the gossip in the Veil. Did you know that? Everyone talks about the halfa; the teenage boy with a hitlist bigger than… well… for decency, think of someone historically bad. The merciless angel. The bringer of death. The red. You could say you’ve become very popular amongst Spirits… and to hear, the little ghost boy could be harmed,” She paused, clasping her hands together as a smile painted her face, “Well, that was like Christmas morning.”

Sam reached for Danny’s shoulder, her fingers gracing over the fabric of his hoodie as he stepped forward again, “What did you do with Vlad?”

The woman smirked, “Me? No, honey, I’ve done nothing. See, I don’t really care for the creepy-uncle-lotion-in-the-basket types. You, however, are much more interesting. Much more powerful than Vlad would be… I can feel it. Radiating off you like the wind around you. It’s beautiful… And we can hurt you. We can touch you. Something those pathetic airbags in the Ghost Zone could only dream of. And believe me, pretty boy, there are many in the Veil eager to show you their real power. Eager to walk this Earth again… all we need is the blood of the halfa.”

“Fuck you!” Sam yelled, stepping in front of the 17-year-old, her finger’s gripping Danny’s wrist. Sam took a step forward, her stance tense, her hood down as wind washed over her. Snow beading in black hair, melting down her face as hatred flashed across her features. Her grip tightened around the teenager’s wrist, protectively; and Danny swallowed softly as he realized she wasn’t about to let go.

The woman stepped forward slowly, smirking again as she chuckled, “Call off your guard-dog, Daniel. I have no intention of killing you today… besides, in order for us to be reborn, you have to come to us willingly. Which I give you… a year before you enter the Veil for the last time.”

Danny scoffed, “Unlikely.”

He shivered as he met the woman’s gaze, her smile hiding something that scared the teenager more than the threat. An understanding… knowing. She knew what went through his mind. What he thought about, how he thought about himself… The way she looked at him, the way she smirked towards him, sneering… she knew. About the drugs. The blood. About the recklessness. She knew what stimmed through a tired mind in the nightmarish reality of Fenton from Phantom. She had to know… but the only way she would, would be- Vlad.

Danny glanced down for a second, swallowing loudly. Him and Vlad had had their differences, but they seemed to work it out over the years… so would Vlad really tell people about him? Would he really betray his secrets to other people, well, Spirits? The teenager had confided in him over the years. Not about everything… but about himself, about how he had come to hate Phantom. How he had become forced to live with Phantom’s pain and torment. How he felt, as the years past, and he let Phantom have more power, he could feel reality crumpling around him. Crumpling in, and slipping through his fingers, through the cracks created by Phantom, opened and birthed through the Ghost Zone and Spirit World. How it felt like he was being drained… that his humanity was dying. Would Vlad really betray him like that? After all this time?

The woman scoffed again, “Perhaps. But I’m willing to help you out… give you another nudge in the right direction.”

Confusion crossed the 17-year-old’s face as he stepped forward again, only a few feet from the woman as she crossed her arms, raising her head. She shook her head slowly, “I can see you’re confused, so I’ll make it simple for your stupid hormonal teenage brain.”

There was a flash, and Danny dropped harshly, his hands and arms burning as he felt the shift starting to take over. Phantom gaining control as the Fenton canister, forgotten on the park bench, exploded loudly, and the teenager pressed his burning hands against the snow. Cold braced against his fingers as he looked up, wiping away some green ectoplasm that litter across his body, blood dripping down his chin slowly from a cut on his upper lip. His eyes flashed green as he let Phantom gain control, his body burning slightly as he shifted, the aching pain that plagued him, gone as Phantom took over.

Within a second, he had the woman pinned against the tree, a smirk twisting against his lips as she struggled pathetically. He huffed, his tone cocky as he tightened his grip, “You missed.”

The woman hesitated before laughing loudly, snapping her fingers as Phantom reverted back, forcing Fenton through translucent skin as he was shoved back into his teenage body. Sweaty fatigue washed over him as she kicked his leg, slamming him against the ground harshly, pinning him against the snow. The 17-year-old squirmed, trying to coax Phantom out, trying to shift but finding the task difficult, his fingers tingling and sparking green but refusing to change.

The woman snorted, grasping his hand in hers, smiling down at him as her blonde hair brushed over his chest. She pressed her fingers between his, humming softly before jerking her hand back, bending Danny’s fingers as she clawed at his palm, bones cracking, causing the teenager to scream loudly as he fought against her. After a few seconds, she let go as wind rushed past them, and she pressed her chest against his, stroking his hair back gently. She bent down further, her lips brushing against his ear, “I wasn’t aiming for you, honey.”

The 17-year-old twisted; his head jerked towards Sam as he tried forcing the woman from him. Blood splattered against the snow as Sam fell, her face pressing against the ice, her hand, bloodied and shaky, as she reached in Danny’s direction. The teenager cried loudly as Sam’s hand dropped in the snow, her body going limp as red bled through white. The woman pressed her fingers against the 17-year-old’s cheek as he screamed again; his hands and arms burning as heat clawed through his chest. Sam opened her mouth, purple lips parted but no words came, only tears trailing down pale flesh before green eyes shut.

The woman laughed softly, digging her nails painfully into Danny’s cheek and chin, prying his eyes away from Sam and towards her. Rage ate away at his features, his skin scorching against Phantom as green began to steam off him, his eyes flashing bright green before darkening as his eyes met hers. The woman tightened her grip as green smoke continued to envelope them; a smirk plastered to skin pulled back too tightly as she pressed her clammy forehead against his, gently. She took a deep breath as Danny struggled against her, his skin itching as black ectoplasm began to drip from his nose and ears, running down his face before smacking against the ground. Cold soaking through his clothes as his skin began to burn away, green fading to black, and black sparks radiating from his fingertips as the woman pressed her lips against his.

The teenager jerked away, his gaze meeting Sam’s stilled face. Her features silent, and Danny choked again as he yelled her name, fighting against the woman’s grasp again. Her nails dug once more into his flesh, pulling his face back towards her as black tears fell down his cheeks in thick trails. She thumbed some away slowly before licking the liquid from her thumb and smirking, pressing her chest once again against his.

“Such power. Such a waste,” She bent down further, her lips pressing against his temple, “Two down… See you in a year, lover.”

Pain seared across his chest, and the 17-year-old screamed as her hand pressed over his heart, burning against flesh as the greenish black swallowing him, ceased. His eyes flashed back to blue as he choked, grasping towards her hand before realizing she was gone. His hand pressing over the bloody handprint stained against his shirt as the pain slowly began to evade, and he twisted around, stumbling to his feet as he forced himself towards Sam….

#in the mood to watch danny phantom #danny phantom #fandom life #i need some fanfiction in my life right now #sick Danny #I was told to stop writing this and create a book out of this lol #posted on archive #lancer taking care of Danny #kb

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