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fanmoose12 · 3 years

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take me out (on a date)

Hange decides to set Levi up on some dates.

It doesn't go as well as she hopes.

"Levi!"

Hange bursts into his office, not waiting for an invitation to come in. Levi wouldn't have given it to her, but when Hange has ever listened to him?

The door bangs thunderously as she throws it closed, and then she moves further into the room, grabbing a chair and twisting it backwards to sit down. The grin on her face is positively mental, and at the back of his mind Levi wonders what exactly is wrong with him, because that smile doesn't faze him in slightest.

"I'm working, four-eyes," he grumbles, closing a tab with a video analysis of some movie he had never seen. "I don't have time for your shit."

"You'll want to hear it, Levi!" her voice is several octaves higher than Levi can tolerate, but Hange promptly ignores his angry scowl. "It will change your life!"

Last time Hange decided to change his life, his eyebrows got bleached.

Understandably, he isn't looking forward to another life changing experience, especially if it'll orchestrated by Hange.

But she doesn't seem to care if he's looking forward to it or not. She shoots up, almost sending poor chair tumbling to the floor, and starts pacing around the room.

"So! I must admit this thought had come to me completely out of sudden. I was in the middle of breakfast, you see, or, no- Wait! I was talking to Nifa! Or watching that new tv-show, you know the one where—"

"Four-eyes," Levi grits when his head starts spinning after watching her move back and forth across the room. "Get to the fucking point."

Hange stops for a second, to flash him an amused smile. "A little impatient, are we? I can understand it, yes... After all, what I'm offering—"

"Four-eyes!"

"Alright, alright!" Hange throws her hands into the air and resumes her pacing. Absentmindedly, Levi wonders how much coffee she has already consumed this morning.

"I guess, what I was doing doesn't really matter. What matters is what I've been thinking about. And I've been thinking about you."

Oh. This gets Levi's attention. It grips it tightly and doesn't let go. Here he thought Hange was going on about another experiment of hers or some other, equally annoying shit, but she has been thinking about him... Levi straightens his back and leans in, watching Hange more intently now.

"So I started thinking about you and it got me thinking, you know, about other people and stuff. And I know what you're going to say!" she furrows her eyebrows in expression Levi guesses should resemble his. Hange does a very poor job, though. He is almost sure he doesn't look that ridiculous. "I'm not people's person, four-eyes, I don't care about them," she says in as low voice as she can manage.

Levi is inclined to agree. He's not a people's person. He is however, a person's person. And his person is currently measuring his office with quick, jerky steps.

"But I think you're a bit wrong. Maybe, you don't like other people, but there are people who like you, so I thought, well, everyone deserve love, and you deserve it above everyone else, because you're so kind and very sweet, and really, really handsome, so I thought, well..." Hange turns to look at him, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

Levi takes a sharp breath. This is it, he realizes. Hange is going to confess to him, a completely not pathetic crush that he was harboring for almost a decade now is finally going to be reciprocated.

His own office isn't the place he thought it was going to happen, but it's fine, he can work with that. He's having feelings for the craziest person he knows, so, really, a little bit of oddity is more than expected.

Levi is already thinking how should he answer that confession - should he tell Hange he feels the same or would a simple kiss suffice, when Hange moves to his desk. She places her hands onto the wooden surface and looms over him with a wide, excited smile. Levi's lips pull in a smile of his own.

"That's why, Levi," she says. "I will help you to find your love! Or, well," Hange adds, while Levi is too busy having a goddamn stroke because why was he, oh why, was he so naive in thinking that Hange would act normal for once? That she would stop being so oblivious and dumb? That she would clean those stupid glasses of hers and finally see what she's doing to him? But Hange doesn't see, even now, she's too blinded by her new, thrilling idea to notice his disappointed, fallen face. "If that doesn't work, at least, it’ll help you to get laid! That stick up your ass, it got so deep, I don't think it's healthy."

Hange starts laughing, too amused by her own stupid joke, and Levi thinks, if that's who you've fallen for? Then you've fallen so low, Levi...

But what can he do? He's fallen and he doesn't think he will be able to get up.

But with a help of someone else, with a strong, steady hand he'll be able to get up from the bottom he's currently buried at.

The idea is as stupid as Hange is, and it's as hopeless as his crush on her, but what he has to lose now?

***

That's how he finds himself in a small Chinese restaurant with Hange sitting across from him. He'd enjoy his evening, he'd entertain the idea that it almost looks like a date, if Hange wasn't wearing such serious expression, her eyes scanning him up and down as though he's a new mouse she decides to experiment at.

"Alright," she declares, turning around to get her backpack. She pulls out a notebook, and with a sense of growing dread, Levi sees her open it at the page that is already full with notes.

"After our little conversation, I asked around a bit..." she mutters, not looking up from a notebook. "I found a couple of friends who are single, but let's start with someone we both know for now..."

The feeling of dread is almost overwhelming now, because Levi is sure what will follow is going to be one of the worst conversations in his life.

"So! Let's start, shall we?" she grips the pen in her fingers tightly and turns the entirety of her attention to him. "What do you think about Mike?"

Levi chokes on a soup he was eating.

"What the fuck, four-eyes?" he hisses. "He's huge!"

Hange pouts. "You don't have to take it straight to bed, you know…"

His face burns and, as the images of him and that giant together enters his mind, Levi wants nothing more than to gag. He kicks Hange under the table in retaliation, making her yelp and rub her ankle.

"He's twice my height, you perverted dipshit. I would look like a brat next to him."

"Not one for daddy's kink, eh?" Hange mutters with that insufferable grin of hers, and Levi kicks her again. "Fine, fine, could have just said no. Mike was actually weirded out by my offer too, I just asked to see if he's your type or not."

"He's not," Levi grits, furious, because his type is sitting right across him in ridiculous oversized shirt and dirty glasses. How low has he fallen...

"I guess I can cross Erwin out as well. Alright!" Hange chirps. "What about Moblit?"

At that, Levi's mood almost lifts. It's good to know his feelings are not the only ones that completely go over Hange's head.

He can just imagine it too, both of them - he and Moblit - getting drunk in some shitty bar, united by their shared infatuation with irritating, absurdly oblivious four-eyed weirdo.

The image conjured by his mind is so pathetic, it almost sends him into a feat of self-pity.

"No," he tells Hange curtly, and she crosses another name.

"Alright, what about Gelgar?"

"He's a drunkard. Pass."

"Nanaba?"

"I've known her since childhood, she’s like a sister. Pass."

"Lynn?"

He doesn't remember who the fuck Lynn is, and so hesitates to give an answer. Hange takes it a sign of agreement, and giggles, writing something down in the notebook. "Got it... What about Gunter?"

"He's my subordinate," Levi reminds.

"And engaged," Hange winks. "But that wasn't what stopped you? Ah, you're naughty one, Ackerman."

And then, to his horror, Hange adds another note.

"And, last but not the least... What do you think about Nifa?"

"Um..."

"So another hit, eh?" Hange smiles so earnestly and brightly, Levi can't just find it in himself to disappoint her.

"Thank you for your cooperation," Hange winks again, closing the noteboor. "I'll analyze the data and set you up on a perfect date. Don't worry, Levi," Hange leans over the small table and covers his hand with hers. You've got to be kidding me, Levi thinks furiously, as his heart starts doing lambada in his ribcage. "I'll find someone you would like."

Look in the mirror, idiot, Levi wants to say, but lets out only a short annoyed grunt.

***

The next day, Erwin and Mike join him at lunch.

"Heard Hange decided to set you up on some dates," Erwin says, his head tilted and eyes curious.

Levi takes a mouthful of salad he brought from home, and nods.

"It's tough, man," Mike remarks.

"Yeah," Levi agrees, because, really, what else is there to say?

"It's interesting," Erwin declares, intrigued like he's reading about some obscure phenomenon or watches a discovery channel, and not observes the confusing relationship between two of his friends. "Something good may come out of it. Come, Mike," he stands up and Mike follows. "There is an urgent matter we need to discuss."

"Ah," Mike grins rather enigmatically. He shots Levi a sly look. "Don't let me down, Levi," he salutes him and then both of them are gone.

Levi's lunch is peaceful and uneventful for another minute.

And then Hange shows up and his chances at peace and quiet are promptly thrown out of the window.

***

The first person Hange sets him up with is Lynn. Levi still doesn't remember her, but decides to just roll with it. He knows her name and Hange had vaguely described her in the midst of her gushing and her reassurances that Levi would like her so much.

On the night of the supposed date, however, Hange shuffles inside his apartment, completely crestfallen. Levi entertains a thought - maybe, Hange had realized what a mistake she's doing, but then she falls on his coach, hand over face, and announces, "Lynn canceled your date. Apparently she didn't really know who you are," well, that makes two of them. "And today she saw you and she said you're not really her type," she sniffles, mumbling, "I'm so sorry, Levi..."

"It's fine," he says, and really, it is. He's actually relieved that the date is no longer happening.

Hange has a different opinion, of course.

"But Levi! I ruined your evening! You got all dressed up and now I've ruined it all." Hange shoots up to her feet, her face determined. "I'll make it better," she vows. "C'mon," she tugs at his arm. "I'll take you to the movies!"

*** Evening with Hange is so much better than a date with some Lynn could ever be.

They go to the dinner, eat horrible, greasy fries and down it all with disgustingly sweet milkshakes. They head to the movies next and Hange picks some dumb, action movie that Levi hates and she loves.

It’s quite boring, that movie, so Levi entertains himself by keeping his hand in a popcorn bucket, waiting for his and Hange's fingers to brush.

His heart races every time they do.

It’s almost a perfect evening, the only grievance Levi has is that the movie ends before he could throw his arm over Hange's shoulders.

But this little shortcoming is all but forgotten, when Hange offers to walk him home and then wraps her jacket over him.

Levi thinks about kissing her, about standing on his tiptoes and pressing his lips to her, when Hange declares, rather happily, "I found you another date, Levi! This one will show up, don't you worry!"

And the she bounces away, crushing all of his hopes and dreams.

***

His first real date is a man Hange describes as her university friend.

"Onyakopon is great!" she says. "He is getting his master's degree in aerodynamics and he's so funny! Handsome, too!"

"That's why you're undressing me right now?" Levi points out to her hands that pop open one, then another button on his shirt. Not that he minds, really, he wouldn't say no to Hange undressing him, but not before he has to go on a date with another person.

"You dress like an old man, Levi," she shakes her head, smoothing down the fine fabric. "You need to show them you're not just pretty face, but a rocking bod as well!"

Levi's face catches fire as Hange winks at him, and not for the first time, he wonders why the hell Hange has come up with this whole setting him up with someone shit, if she thinks he looks hot. Is his personality that repulsive to her? But then why she constantly hangs out with him?

Sometimes Hange is as easy to read as a children's book. And sometimes he can't understand her at all.

"Go get him, tiger!" she ruffles his hair and wishes him luck.

Sighing, Levi leaves his apartment.

***

At first, everything is awkward.

Onyakopon asks him questions - what is he doing for a living, what are his hobbies, and Levi gives him short, concrete answers, adding a weak "and you?".

Things pick up after Levi asks what Onyakopon is studying, and the evening is saved from being a complete disaster, when Onyakopon launches into a tale of why he loves aerodynamics so much.

He's handsome, Hange wasn't wrong with that. And he's passionate - his eyes are burning and his hands are flying around as he explains to Levi one concept or the other. Levi understands why Hange is friends with him, they're united by love for knowledge, although Onyakopon is lacking all of Hange's eccentricities.

The conversation shifts after Onyakopon asks him how he knows Hange.

"Co-workers," Levi mumbles, and adds a reluctant, "And you?"

Onyakopon's face breaks into a smile that is even brighter than the one he was sporting while talking about his studies. He starts talking about his and Hange's time in college, how much fun they were having in the lab, and Levi realizes that Onyakopon is yet another member of the pitiful I have a crush on Hange Zoe club and yet another victim of her obliviousness.

"Sorry," Onyakopon chuckles, hand on his neck. "I've got... carried away."

"No problem," Levi answers. "I understand."

"Hange is really one of a kind, right?"

"Unfortunately," Levi says, and both of them share a long, knowing look.

Onyakopon, all in all, isn't that bad. But when they say their goodbyes, there is no promise of another date. There is not even a vague "let's do this again sometime". But if Levi would ever find himself in too deep, when his stupid crush would make him go nearly insane, he knows just the guy to call and get drunk at a shitty bar. Onyakopon would be a great addition to Levi's and Moblit's pity party.

***

Hange is saddened when he tells her that there won't be a second date, but she is not yet ready to give up.

So she sets him up with a person who is very different from Onyakopon. Hange must have forgotten about his rule of no giant blondes because it's the perfect description of Yelena, who is, well, a giant blonde. She also looks like a psycho and even Hange warns him to be more careful with that one.

Ah, well. At least, she isn't in love with Hange. Quite the opposite, actually.

"Hange dated my ex," Yelena explains, skipping hellos, how are yous and other pleasantries. She is too straightforward even for Levi. She’s also incredibly intense. And not in an inspiring way like Erwin is or charming way how Hange is. Yelena is intense in a scary, uncomfortable way. Like a serial killer. "Now I want to date hers."

"I'm not Hange's ex," Levi frowns, wondering where Hange had found that weirdo. "What kind of person sets their ex up on a date?" he adds, feeling that it should be voiced out.

"I don't know," Yelena shrugs. "Probably the one who doesn't really care about that sort of thing. So you're not her ex?" she asks once again.

"No."

"Oh, alright. Good evening then," she raises up from a table, towering over Levi. "Fist steak here is really delicious," she says. "You should try it."

And then she is gone.

Levi stays and orders a steak. It really is good.

Just as he finishes it, he texts Hange,

this one was a psycho. she left after first five minutes

Hange replies with a crying emoji and vows to do better.

***

His next date is with Nifa, and somehow, probably because they already know each other, this date is the most enjoyable yet.

Nifa feeds him gossips about each member of their office, and some of them are actually funny enough to get a chuckle out of him. And when she tells him about that time when Erwin got his pants ripped right at his ass and Nifa walked in on Mike trying to sew them together, Levi loses it to the point of choking on his drink.

When he walks Nifa home, she gives him a tight hug.

"I had so much fun today..." she says, fumbling with the straps of her bag.

"But?" Levi softly prompts.

"But I actually agreed to this date because Hange had asked me. You see we have this little thing with Moblit..."

Ah. So even Moblit is moving on? Lucky bastard.

"I wish you the best then," he murmurs.

"Thank you," Nifa raises on her tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "And Levi? Hange will get around."

He doubts she will, but he’s thankful for the kind words all the same.

***

What follows after that is the worst date of Levi's life.

Zeke is the guy Hange dated in college. The relationship lasted for no more than two weeks, yet Zeke seems immensely proud of his little achievement, mentioning it at every opportunity.

If that wasn't irritating enough, Zeke turns out to be arrogant, pompous and sneering jerk.

Levi accidentally pours his wine at Zeke's white shirt, and Zeke retaliates by kicking Levi's sheen when he goes to the bathroom, almost sending him face-first into the restaurant's carpet floor.

This almost leads to a fistfight that quickly gets resolved by Hange who appears out of nowhere. She calls Zeke a moron and sends him home. She turns to Levi then, apologizing for Zeke and promises to make it up to him. Levi doesn't really need it, just watching Zeke get scolded like that was more than enough to right any grievance he could have had, but then Hange offers to order takeout and watch movie at her place, and Levi thinks he's allowed to feel a little slighted.

The evening ends with Hange fast asleep on a couch and tucked into his side, and Levi wonders if he should agree to another date with Zeke, just so Hange could make it up to him again.

***

"She's cute, isn't she?" Hange shows him a picture of dark-haired, smiling woman, and Levi nods, absentmindedly. The woman is objectively pretty, but her appearance stirs up nothing inside him. "It's Pieck, she's great! Do you like her?"

"She's fine," he mutters, his attention more on the papers in front of him than on that Pieck and their upcoming date. The name is vaguely familiar, but Levi puts that thought aside, deciding to tackle it some other time.

"Then I'll tell her you're free on Saturday!" Hange announces and after swiftly ruffling his hair, she's out of the office, as spontaneously as she came.

*** Pieck Finger is even prettier in person. She has long dark hair and deep big eyes. She uses a walking stick and she's dressed in a colorful sundress.

They're slowly making their way through a museum, and Pieck quietly tells him about different parts of exhibition.

They've walked through two rooms, when Pieck apologizes and asks if they can sit down for a while. Levi leads her to the nearest bench and Pieck shoots him a grateful smile before sitting down.

"Pieck," she offers him her hand. "Hange's ex."

Ah, so that's how he knows her name.

Levi takes her hand in his, squeezing it just a little too tight. He doesn't know Pieck, never talked to her before their date, but she's Hange's ex. Levi can't help but dislike her just for that.

"Levi," he answers, letting go of her hand.

"Oh, I know," Pieck grins, whipping her hair. "Hange told me about you. A lot."

"Oh, right. Before our date."

Pieck chuckles at that, and then turns to the painting in front of them.

"Are you an artist?" Levi asks, taking note of the way her eyes trace every bit of the painting.

"Not really," she says. "But coming here calms me down. Do you have something like that, Levi? Something that calms you down?"

Cleaning, he wants to say. A good cup of tea, he wants to add. But then he remembers his last date, the hot rage he felt just by looking at Zeke. Tea didn't help him then. Neither did cleaning. It was Hange who came and conquered the storm inside him.

The revelation shouldn't be a revelation at all, he knows Hange for a decade now, he also knows just how important she is to him. Yet this discovery still gives him a pause, and it takes him some time to come back to his senses.

"Hange is something else, isn't she?" Pieck's gentle voice brings him back to reality. "She's like... an exquisite painting. She has the same uncanny ability to just draw people in."

Levi doesn't quite know what to say to this, but Pieck doesn't seem to expect an answer.

"But like some paintings, she can be really chaotic. She's too bright, she always feels too much... Don't fault her for having troubles with sorting it all out."

"I don't—" he wants to protest, but Pieck's knowing look silences him.

"We've dated for almost a year," Pieck says. "It's been fun and I was in love. I was also the one who broke up with her. Do you know why?"

Levi shakes his head. Hange never told him.

"And about me? Has she ever talked about me?"

"No," Levi answers. "She did not."

"Huh," Pieck hums, gripping her stick to slowly stand up. Levi thinks he offended her, but when Pieck looks at him again, there is a soft smile on her lips. She reaches out, lays a hand on his shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"And yet, she used to talk my ears off about you."

She leaves a second later, and Levi is too stunned to follow after her and ask what did her words mean.

***

The next date will be the last one, Levi decides. He's getting tired of pretending that he does it in attempt to move on from Hange, because it clearly isn't working.

"That's Petra," Hange explains as she shows him yet another photo. The girl in picture is attractive, and, what's more important, not even vaguely familiar, and that is certainly relieving. Maybe, this one isn't Hange's ex. "She's my cousin," Hange continues, confirming his guess. "Well, she's a very, very distant one, but cousin all the same. She was at my last year's birthday party, do you remember her?"

"Not really," he confesses. All he remembers about that day is being drunk on wine and on feeling of Hange's arm around his shoulders, as she dragged him from one guest to another.

"I don't really remember if I introduced the two of you, but she likes you. She was staring at you during the whole party, she says," she was? Levi didn't notice. Then again, he most probably was too busy staring at the cousin of Hange's cousin to see anyone else. "So, yeah, Petra is, um, excited about this date."

Hange doesn't look him in the eyes as she speaks and she fiddles with sleeve of her shirt almost anxiously. It makes Levi wonder - if Petra likes him so, why haven't Hange introduced them earlier?

"You will like her, I think," Hange says, strangely quiet. "I gave her your number, she'll call you in the evening. Em," she stands up from the desk and pats his shoulders. "Good luck, I guess," she gives him a smile that seems forced and doesn't reach her eyes.

Hange leaves his office quietly without looking back even once.

***

They go to the park. They walk around and Petra gathers flowers as she talks about her hobbies and life. Levi learns that she is a school teacher and she's good at violin. She tends to her old father and she dreams of going to Paris.

She is ridiculously adorable - petite and soft-spoken, she looks like a disney princess, the type that attracts butterflies on her fingers and joins in on birds' songs every morning.

Levi likes her, he thinks. Well, he certainly doesn't dislike her, which already makes Petra stand out from all of his previous dates. And he can work with that, has to work with that, because otherwise he'd have to admit his defeat, he'd have to surrender to the knowledge that he'll be in love with Hange Zoe until the end of his pitiful life.

Levi isn't ready to wave the white flag just yet, so he asks Petra on another date, and then another.

It's going well, he tells Hange and expects squeals, smug looks or, at least, sincere congratulations.

Instead Hange mumbles, "I'm happy for you, Levi," and doesn't ask about Petra again.

Levi tries not to think about it, tries not to think about Hange, because he has someone else now, he has Petra and he has to commit to her now. Maybe, it will help him get over Hange.

And yet, his heart still aches for her and her only.

Still, Levi doesn't give up.

***

Every weekend, he asks Petra on a date, inviting her to a new place each time.

He makes sure that every place they visit is not a place he had ever visited with Hange. It proves to be a hard task very quickly, during their many years of friendship Hange has dragged him to almost every curious place in their city, but Levi manages.

He searches online and asks his friends and coworkers.

"What the fuck, Levi?" Mike looks almost angry as Levi asks him if he knows a good restaurant he can take Petra to. "Don't you and—"

Erwin stops him before he lets out whatever he wanted to say.

He gives Levi a tight-lipped smile and promises to send a few suggestions after work.

However, despite all his efforts, most probably, because he really is a hopeless fool, Levi just can't seem to stop thinking about Hange.

They go to a theater, and as Petra gushes about superb acting, intricate story parallels and other little things Levi doesn't quite see, he can't get rid of Hange's voice in his head that picks up every silly detail and makes a devastating joke about it.

They attend a concert of some local indie group and their songs are just horrible enough to make him miss Hange's weird music taste.

They visit the city's aquarium, Petra is dressed in a lovely blue skirt and sea green top, but Levi doesn't even notice. As he wanders around the aquarium, watching dolphins, sharks and medusas, all he can think about is damn, four-eyes would have loved it here.

*** It's their fifth date and Levi walks Petra home. The night chill is in the air and the winds blows smoothly, ruffling Petra's auburn hair and making her huff adorably as she fruitlessly tries to keep her haircut in order.

Levi wonders if he should lend her his jacket and remembers the time Hange did the same for him. That starts a new chain of thought - his interactions with Hange in the recent weeks, or, rather a disappointing lack of them. Hange doesn't come to disturb his quiet lunches anymore and she doesn't drape herself over his table, pestering him with stupid jokes and annoying puns.

Perhaps, it is for the best. Perhaps, it will make moving on even easier, but Levi doesn't want easier. He wants his best friend back. Even if she doesn't share his feelings.

"Levi?" Petra's voice pulls him out of his thoughts. It's gentle and quiet, like a summer breeze. It's drastically different from Hange's loud, booming one that resembles a thunder. Levi winces as soon the comparison enters his mind.

You're trying to move on, you idiot.

"Levi," Petra repeats, clutching the sleeve of his jacket to stir him away from a sidewalk. "I think we need to talk."

Oh, Levi knows that tone. It's a tone that says there is nothing wrong with you, but…

It's a tone that says it's their fifth and last date.

"I'm sorry," he tells Petra as soon as she seats them at a nearby bench. He really is sorry. He's sorry for wanting but not actually trying hard enough to move on. Petra deserves better than that. Deserves someone who will love her for who she is and not as a replacement for someone he can never have.

"It's alright," Petra smiles, because she's amazing like that. Because she's a kind person Levi never deserved. "I understand. There is someone else, right?" she gingerly lays her hand on his chest, right above his heart. "Someone that lives here."

Levi nods jerkily, moving his eyes to stare at the dark street. The sympathy in Petra's eyes is almost too much to bear.

"I should have known..." Petra chuckles, shakes her head. "When I first saw you, at that party, I was instantly taken away. You looked so handsome, with that sharp jaw and piercing eyes, I couldn't stop staring. I kept trying to catch your gaze, wishing that you would look back and be just as struck by me as I was of you. But you had eyes only for one person, right?"

There is no judgement, no anger in her voice. Petra sounds rather wistful, and Levi thinks that he'd rather endure her bitterness than have her kindness.

"Petra, I'm sorry, I—"

"Don't be," she says, placing a hand on his cheek. She caresses his skin, turning his face to look at her. She's smiling, so sweet and breathtakingly pretty. "It wasn't fair of me, to wish for something that wasn't mine. I saw the two of you, only a blind wouldn't see how devoted you are to my cousin...” and yet, Levi can’t help, but think bitterly, there is someone who still doesn’t see. “Hange is so brilliant, so smart, but sometimes she doesn't notice what's right in front of her. You have to show her, Levi, give a little push in the right direction," Petra pauses, presses her lips to his cheek. "Just don't give up yet. I want you both to be happy."

"Petra..." he touches her hand on his cheek, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you for everything."

"I have my fair share of fun," she giggles. Petra stands up, smoothing her skirt. She turns to look at him, "By the way, Levi, do you have a brother?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Only a balding, annoying uncle who is twice your age."

"Ah," Petra's face falls. "Guess the world isn't lucky enough to have another one of you. But who knows?" she grins. "Maybe, I'll find someone even better."

As Levi watches her walk away, skipping between cars and people with an easy spring in her step, he wishes that Petra - the girl who looks just like a disney princess - will find her prince and get her happily ever after.

***

Levi pushes the door of his apartment complex, feeling spent and exhausted, with Petra's words still weighing heavily over his head.

Maybe, he should take her advice? Maybe, he should tell Hange how he feels, just to let it out of his chest.

He contemplates if he should call her or send her a text.

hey, hange, your cousin just broke up with me, because i'm hopelessly in love with you. i have beer and leftover pizza. want to hang out?

He quickly pushes the idea away. It'd be too pathetic even for him.

Besides, what if Hange isn't at home? What if she isn't alone and is on another date or already in someone else's arms?

Levi doesn't think he can take it. At least, not today.

As he shuffles up the stairs, he looks up to see the familiar hallway that leads to his apartment. Everything is as it always is - fluorescent light that flicks on and off, large trashcan littered with cigarette buts, a window that stands broken for almost a month now, and a body sitting by his doorstep.

Levi stops.

The body is definitely a new addition.

Tall, lanky and adorned with a mop of messy hair, Levi recognizes it instantly.

He quickens his step, worry seizing his throat.

What Hange is doing here? Is she ill? Is she—

"Leviii! Here you are!"

Lopsided grin, unfocused gaze and glasses that are steadily slipping down her nose, Levi doesn't need to see a bottle of wine clutched in her hand to know that Hange is drunk.

"The fuck you're doing here, four-eyes?" he grunts, taking the bottle away.

"I came to see you," she slurs, and it's a testament of how far he is gone, because even now, he finds Hange incredibly endearing.

"Why?" he pinches the bridge of his nose, an almost overwhelming feeling of I can't fucking do this right now washing over him.

"I wanted to—" Hange falters, and her grin disappears. "Doesn't matter," she mutters and attempts to stand up. "I should go."

She sways on her feet and trips, almost falls, but Levi doesn't let her. He catches her in the very last moment, putting his arms around her waist.

Hange's hands are around his neck, and she doesn't look him in the eyes. She stares at his left cheek instead.

"You really like her, huh?" she murmurs. "I'm happy, Levi."

Hange doesn't look happy at all. Her lips are pressed together, tightly, and there are tears in her eyes.

Levi doesn't understand.

He presses a hand to his cheek, to the spot Hange was looking at.

His fingers come away red.

Oh, it hits him. Petra's lipstick.

Was that the thing that upset Hange?

"C'mon," he pushes Hange upwards, despite her feeble protests. He doesn't have the energy to deal with it right now, but he can't just leave Hange here or let her go home by herself. "Let's get you inside."

"No, Levi," Hange fruitlessly attempts to push him away, but Levi just tightens his hold on her and presses her to his side.

"Don't squirm so much," he admonishes, struggling to get to his key. "Where did you get so drunk anyway?"

During their many years of friendship, Levi has seen drunk Hange more times that he could count. But he had never seen her like this. Drunk Hange can be loud, vulgar, batshit insane. But she's not a sad drunk, never were. And the things she just said, the melancholy that accompanied them... Levi doesn't know what to make of it.

He decides not to acknowledge it, after all, Hange is drunk, even if she acts more strangely than usual, and so he focuses on getting her inside his apartment without letting her fall down or hit the wall.

It proves to be a more complicated task than anticipated because Hange keeps trying to get away from him.

Levi mutters a curse. As if he would let her.

After they finally pass the threshold, a tougher battle ensues. He leans Hange against the wall and gets on his knees, attempting to take off her shoes while simultaneously keeping her from falling on her ass.

After that is finally done, he drags Hange in the living room and deposits her on a couch.

"Are you sober enough to take a shower?" he asks, already knowing the answer.

Hange confirms it by shaking her head.

On one hand, Levi can always shower her himself, he has done it before. On the other... he's not drunk enough to do it.

"What a mess," he sighs and goes to bring her a blanket and a glass of water.

"So?" he drapes the blanket over her and crouches next to her face. "What happened?"

"I was out with Nanaba..." she begins, hand thrown over her face. "And then Mike and Erwin showed up..."

Ah, so that's who he needs to blame for all of it.

"And they asked me where you were and I told them about your date and Petra and..." Hange lets out a sound, something between a sniffle and sob. "And then they ambushed me! Mike said that I'm an idiot, Erwin told that I acted surprisingly unwise, which is... Have you ever noticed that sometimes Erwin talks like he's a character from Jane Austen's novels? Like he's Darcy or some other shit? It's irritating, I bet he does it on purpose, to appear more... more sophisticated."

"Hange," he flicks her forehead lightly, chucking to himself. "Get to the point."

"Right, right," she nods. "And then Nanaba... Nanaba smacked my head! She called me all sorts of names—" Hange raised her fingers, counting. "A moron, a fool, simpleton, dummy, an oblivious ass and a jerk. She then said I'm blind and unobservant."

Well... Nanaba wasn't wrong. Levi needs to thank her for that speech of hers. He couldn't have said it better.

"I'm not any of these things, am I, Levi?"

Hange turns to look at him now, her large eyes pulling him in, drowning him in their endless depth. She moves her hand, laying her palm on his cheek. The gesture reminds him of his conversation with Petra, but his feelings are different now. With Petra he felt ashamed and guilty.

With Hange, he feels confused and enamored.

She's drunk, he reminds himself. She doesn't know what she's doing, you're taking advantage of her.

He needs to leave her alone, to keep his distance before Hange gets her wits back.

"She's so orderly, huh?" Hange whispers, caressing his cheek. "It's your fifth date, and she only kisses you on a cheek."

Levi breathes out her name, unsure of everything now. What Hange is talking about can't possibly be true.

"She's so good, right? Petra is pretty and sweet, and she's not crazy like me. She doesn't annoy you like I do, and she's—"

She's not you, Levi wants to say. Instead he presses a hand over her mouth, silencing Hange before another stupid thing comes out.

"Stop this, four-eyes. You don't know what you're talking about. You're drunk."

"I am," Hange agrees. "Do you want to know why? Because I fucked up. Because I lost you and it's my fault that I did. Because the thought of you with someone else is so painful that I decided to drink until I forget," she chuckles, a broken, hollow sound, and raises her head to stare at the ceiling. "And now here we are."

Here they are...

"Nanaba was right," Levi curtly declares. "You're an idiot, Hange, the biggest one I had seen."

"Eh?"

"Do you know why it didn't work out with all the people you set me up with? Why it didn't work out with Petra? Why it wouldn't work out with anyone else?"

Hange opens her mouth, but Levi silences her once again.

"I'll let you think about it. You can tell me your answer in the morning."

Before Hange can protest, he plucks off her glasses and wraps the blanket tighter around her.

"Water is on a coffee table," he tells and heads to the bed.

It was one hell of a day. And something tells him - another horrible one is already waiting for him.

***

When he wakes up in the morning, it's to the pleasant smell of fried eggs and freshly brewed tea.

Cautiously, with last night’s events still fresh in his mind, he gets up and follows the smell to his kitchen.

There, he finds Hange with her hair still wet from a shower and dressed in his t-shirt and shorts.

Levi takes a second to take it all in - the sight of Hange in his clothes, the ease with which she moves around his kitchen, as though she belongs here, in his home. It's a sight he would never forget, and a sight he longs to see every morning, until the end of his days.

Hange notices him a moment later. She waves at him, grinning, and beckons him to take a seat.

"Good morning," she sings, far too cheerful for a person who was too drunk to stand last night.

She sets two plates and two cups on a table, and sits down next to him.

"How did you sleep?" she asks through a mouthful of her breakfast. "Good, I hope?"

"It was fine," he shrugs, attempting to mask his unease. Hange looks at him... strangely. "And you?"

"Mm, just a few hours and then I couldn't really sleep," ah, that explains it all then. Levi guesses Hange's cup isn't filled with tea. He wonders how much coffee she had already consumed. "I did something, by the way, to thank you for letting me crush at your place."

"You mean breakfast?"

"Well, that too, but no, another thing." Hange straightens out suddenly, shooting him a rueful grin. Her eyes, however, are nervous. "I've found you another date!"

Levi's face falls, but Hange either doesn't notice or doesn't care. She keeps on talking.

"She's something, Levi, super smart, downright hilarious and is extremely, unbelievably sexy. What's better, she's completely crazy about you. Like, it's actually embarrassing how much she likes you. Talks and thinks about you all the time, considers you the best thing in her life, well, like I said, she's crazy. She will lose it completely if you agree."

For a long moment, Levi is silent. He pushes the food around the plate, keeping his face down. And his smile away from Hange's eyes.

Then, when he physically can feel Hange's nervousness, he finally speaks.

"I guess, I can go on a date or two. See if we're compatible or not."

"Mm, I think you're quite compatible."

"I think so too."

It gets quiet for a moment, and then, because Hange is the biggest idiot he had ever met, she leans close to him and whispers, "I was talking about myself. You realized it, right? I'm asking you on a date. Just you know, I don't want you to misunderstand something or—"

Hange is insufferable. Impossible. Infuriating. Absolutely breathtaking, even in the moments of her greatest stupidity.

And kissing before the first date is unseemly. Outrageous, as Erwin would have put it. Levi’s mother didn’t raise him like that.

But Levi does it anyway, because, as he finds out - it's the best way to shut Hange up.

The kiss is quick, chaste, just a momentary touch to the corner of her lips.

Luckily, it’s enough to make her halt mid-sentence, her mouth hanging open slightly.

Levi rather likes her dazed expression.

“I have one condition,” he remarks casually, returning to his breakfast.

“Anything,” Hange promises, and Levi smirks at the slight breathlessness in her voice.

“No more setting me up with other people.”

“Oh,” she laughs, and because she’s utterly impossible he presses a kiss to his lips too. “Yeah, I can definitely work with that.”

Well, Levi can work with that too.

#levihan

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pinkchanelbag · 3 years

Text

truthfully, miserably. [m. fushiguro]

the truth came to him like a drowning man’s first breath, but came far too late; you were already long gone.

cw: literally just angst.

wc: 1.5k.

note: this doesn’t even have a plot??? it’s just me directing my bummed out energy on my poor baby megumi i feel so bad i have to like write him fluffly headcanons or something after this.

“you’re lying.”

megumi stiffened his body to suppress the shudder that passed through him. he worried that those words would haunt him for the rest of his life.

how terrifying it was to watch himself become undone by those two words. he’d known himself to be an honest man, a good man. it didn’t ever occur to him that lying about something as intangible, inconsequential as his own feelings could hurt someone; could make him a worse person.

“it’s not the right time. i’m too busy to worry about you more than i already do. i can’t worry about your feelings too.”

it had been a harsh statement but an been an easy lie. so easy that he was mildly convinced of it himself until the moment you’d pulled it to pieces before him and turned your back on him with a suitcase in one hand.

you’re lying.

a dark feeling manifested in his gut at knowing those were your last words to him. knowing the last time you looked upon him, your face was pulled into something like disbelief, hurt, hopelessness, and tears sat in your eyes but didn’t fall. it was the face of a person spread thin, a person giving up.

the night was windy enough for it to be noticeable. the breeze tossed megumi’s hair before his eyes and obscured his vision of the train station.

he had stayed behind when the first and second years and gojo sensei accompanied you in farewell.

“you sure?” gojo sensei had asked with a titled head and rare genuine empathy.

“don’t think she’d want me there.” part of him had believed it to be true, but another part of him, the part that sneered at his cowardice knew it was also because he hadn’t come to terms with his own actions. he hadn’t been ready to face you after being hit with the crushing reality of his own deceit. part of him couldn’t make himself process that the hurt in your face wasn’t because of his words, but because of the fact that you knew they weren’t true.

gojo had simply sighed, paused for a few beats before saying,

“utahime will text me as soon as she’s picked her up from the station.” the sorcerer’s intuition had let him on to the circumstances, and it was that intuition that knew megumi would benefit from being reassured of the girl’s whereabouts. knowing this, megumi had thanked his sensei with deep sincerity, a rarity of his own.

he didn’t even know why he’d come. you’d departed before the sun had gone down. a creeping feeling told him it was because he should have been there. a part of him felt like he’d arrived several hours late to the most important encounter of his life.

he supposed he was here because it was the last place he knew for a fact that you’d been in; that a few hours ago, you stood on the platform. maybe your fingers tapped against the handle of your suitcase like they often did when you felt anticipatory. maybe you smiled at the others with your eyes and hugged them with your whole body. you’d always had a way of pouring every single thing in your heart and mind into your interactions—your eyes, words, your touch. megumi had always seen it as both powerful and stupid. you were truer than any other person he’d ever met. your heart teetered on your sleeve, but it was by no means weak. you felt with no shame or inhibition, and it was your superpower. but the way you couldn’t—wouldn’t—mask your feelings in any way made you an exposed nerve. you were all offence and no defence. at first, to megumi, it was irritating. he hadn’t liked being called out or being slapped in the face by your vulnerability and not knowing what to do with it.

then he came to know you. irritation turned to apprehensiveness; the feeling of wanting to grab you by the shoulders and shake you into some sense. to tell you to not be so open. a feeling as if he was constantly worrying about a toddler falling off a cliff. but you never changed, and he got somewhat used to it. and then he knew it was you, and knew he wouldn’t want you differently. then, unexpectedly, he came to like, even to admire, that quality in you. the anxiety never went away. all that had changed was that the more time he spent around you, the more he needed to protect your heart as you never would.

it’s not the right time.

it was a lie. and he of all people should’ve known better than to believe it. after having lost too many people far too soon in his life, he should’ve known that time becomes inconsequential, in the end. he should’ve known that you knew, which justified your look of incredulousness at his words. he wondered if you, with your terrifying ability to see through his every atom, had known that he didn’t truly mean to lie, because he had convinced himself of something that wasn’t true. megumi’s own heart answered painfully. of course you’d known. how long had you been wrestling with his iron-grip emotions before you gave up on trying to help him see truth?

it had taken far too many hours, but the initial shock and cowardice had just about worn off. on the dark, empty platform, megumi faced himself. not for his sake—for yours. for what you had been trying to do for him before he’d pushed you away more times than even your kind soul could handle.

with a lump in his throat, he thought about and acknowledged that as much as he should’ve known to cherish people before they were gone, he equally held himself back from growing close to anyone for fear of how badly their loss would hurt him. your closeness scared him more than any other because he knew that if anything ever happened to you, anything at all, he’d never be the same. it wouldn’t matter if you healed from whatever physical or emotional scars had been caused. megumi would never be able to feel like he belonged to the same world that had done you harm. his fists clenched in anger. and what had he done, exactly? he’d been the one to hurt you in a selfish pursuit of preservation.

you’re lying.

he’d been lying. he could own up to that now. he had to make his amends in some way, and not in hopes that it’ll make you give him another chance, but because you did what he hadn’t. you’d acted selflessly for his sake. you’d tried to help him be better, you’d tried to love him and to tell him—because i like you, fushiguro—to tell him that and whether or not you were around or would ever be around again to witness it, he would be better. and he’d start with this.

what’s the truth?

there was little thinking involved in what happened next. it wasn’t a conscious thought at all. it wasn’t so different from finally emerging from too much time spent underwater and the way your body pulls a dizzyingly deep breath into your lungs without your conscious decision or consent. for megumi, that was what it felt like to realize he loved you.

he choked on a sob as the words piled into existence. i love you.

he’d never been open emotionally, particularly with intimate feelings. that was why the conviction and forwardness with which he felt this truth shocked him—or would have, if he could’ve focused on anything else. vaguely he wondered if this is how you felt all your emotions. with such ferocious acceptance that no one could possibly mold them into weakness when they felt so much like strength.

i love you.

his body was nearly aglow with it. it bubbled up inside him and threatened to spill over.

“i..i love you.”

for just a moment, two opposite universes crossed. he stood inside that unfulfilled reality, where on this platform on this day he’d arrived before the sun had fallen and said those words to your listening ears rather than to deserted train tracks. he looked between himself and the reality where he’d done right by time, and he didn’t know which was the ghost.

“i love you.”

he spoke the words to the wind, and it heard him and whistled in empathy, but it would not carry his message to you.

“i love you...i love you.”

megumi watched those words that scalded the inside of his mouth materialize only to be carried out of existence. without you to hear them, they meant nothing, no matter how much they felt like breathing fire. but for all their uselessness, he didn’t dare to not say them, even as they burned his lips. for one thing, they were the truth.

“i love you,” he said miserably. “i love you. i love you. i love you.”

right person, wrong time. how backwards a saying that was. he scoffed tearfully. not even the watery eyes took away from the dry, bitter expression on his face. he was the one—he had wronged time. how long had he spent deluding himself about all the reasons he should let you go? the timing had always been right—he was what was wrong. and now you’d broken his heart like he’d broken yours. his tears sunk and hid into his pores and his face turned to stone, and you were gone, and he’d never love again.

#megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi headcanons #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro imagine #megumi oneshot #megumi smut #jjk x reader #jjk angst #fushiguro x reader #nia.megumi #nia.txt

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - Chapter 25 - The Battle of Hogwarts (Part One)

Thanks to my gif maker and friend of course, @abimess.

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies. || Words: 5.550 K

A/N> The third to last chapter is here, a little late because I just forgot to publish it yesterday. Well, good luck and good reading everyone.

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Chapter 25 - Part XXV - The Battle of Hogwarts (Part One)

The first thing you notice when you arrive at Hogwarts is the sky.

Maybe it's because you fell backwards onto the ground, and the high was what was within reach of your gaze, but you can see clearly that the exact moment Wanda apparated you and Charles into the castle, was also the exact moment when the protection spells broke.

The great force field placed in the castle, breaking into luminous pieces in front of your eyes, would be beautiful to watch in any other situation.

Now, it just means that you arrived just in time for the fight to begin.

A gentle touch pulls you up, helping you stand.

Wanda's concerned face checking to see if everything is okay, and you have to push the ringing in your ear from the adrenaline to absorb her words:

"[...]Charles is not breathing, Y/N! Help me!" And suddenly your heart is beating so fast that you have barely stood and are kneeling again, now next to the man who has fallen to the ground.

"What happened?" you asked worriedly, watching him squirm, the wide wound in his throat.

"He splinched! I don't know why I-"

"It's okay, Wanda, give me your hand." You interrupted her trying to calm her down, pulling her close. "Do as you did with me, I'll help you."

"I-I don't know how, I-I-"

"Trust me, then, babe." You guided quickly, as Wanda lowered herself down beside you, and you intertwined your hands at the height of Charles' wound who was almost passing out. "Breathe, let your magic flow with mine. The same way you healed me, help him."

Wanda tried to control her nervous tears, taking a deep breath. Her hands trembled on top of yours.

But as soon as you felt her magic, you focused.

It was a strange feeling, healing someone with Wanda's magic.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, and then it turned into a laugh of relief as the wound began to close.

Within seconds, Charles was blinking in confusion, trying to sit up, breathing normally.

"Hey buddy, how are you feeling?" You asked, touching his shoulders, and he shook his head.

"O-okay." He replied breathlessly, impressed. "Thank you, ladies."

"What happened, Charles?" Wanda asked worriedly, helping him stand. The sky exploding around you.

"We appeared a second before the protection spell broke, girls." He explained as he looked up at the sky, "I figured it would be worth absorbing the damage, rather than putting you two in danger."

"That was stupidly brave, buddy." You mutter making him laugh.

"Let's hurry up, I think the fight is on the other side."

You were near the entrance to the stone circle, just before the Wooden Bridge. There was no one there, but the force field was disengaging almost completely at that point.

Grabbing the Sorting Hat that had fallen from your head, and the sword that Gryffindor Charles had made a small belt for you to hang on your back, you ran beside them toward the castle.

As the distance diminished, your body began to shiver.

Wanda was in danger here.

You pushed the feeling away, trying to ignore it.

She intertwined your hands together, trying to give you a minimum of reassurance as you crossed the wooden bridge.

"Don't come any closer!" Someone shouted from the edge of the entrance, his wand raised.

The person saw Charles, who was in front, first. Hence the hostility, you guessed.

And then he recognized you and Wanda.

"By merlin, it's them!" Shouted the boy. "Tony, it's your sister!"

You choked, stepping forward.

Tony stumbled out of the area he was covering, and had half a second before he recognized you for you to catch up to him, jumping on his neck, hugging him tightly.

"Idiot, your friend almost stupified us!" You fought between tears as he laughed in relief and hugged you back.

He let go of you to hug Wanda too, but the loud noises of explosions in the distance made you exchange knowing glances about continuing.

"We need to go, the walkers are coming through the front entrance." He directs, but before you guys can move, there is a loud whistle.

You turn toward the bridge entrance again.

There is a large group of wizards there, who have probably appeared in the forest.

"That's why we're here, Y/N. I put a bomb on the bridge. Come right in." Tony says quickly, pulling you guys off the bridge.

The group of wizards is led by a grim-faced man with a huge scar on his face.

"Stop hiding, children!" He shouts as he walks.

Tony exchanges a look with the boy who was watching, and shouts.

"Come on, don't you think it's pathetic to attack a school, Digger?" Tony teased, clearly wishing the man would advance on the bridge. "You sound desperate, buddy!"

And this Digger guy seemed to get annoyed, but his gaze fell on you and Wanda, and his expression flashed with anger.

"My, my, is the Scarlet Witch am I seeing? You guys are fools."

You would have moved forward, wiped that sick smile off his face, if Tony hadn't cast an incantation on the end of the bridge, which caused a huge explosion.

He rushed to get you guys out, pushing you back into the castle as the wooden bridge was destroyed and that whole little horde of walkers was defeated at once.

"That was incredible!" The boy from earlier commented as soon as the explosion was over, "I'm Scott Summers, nice to meet you all."

You frowned at the outstretched hand. The name was not unfamiliar to you. But it wasn't until Wanda discreetly whispered in your mind that he was a friend of Jean Grey's did you recognize him.

He greeted everyone quickly before Tony turned to you.

"What the hell are you doing here anyway?" He asked, now almost annoyed. "Mephisto is here, somewhere outside the field. Neither you nor Wanda should be anywhere near him."

You started walking back to the castle, as you spoke. "You shouldn't have attacked now, Tony, you don't understand. He can't die, it is an ancient magic, it's called horcruxes and-

"Well, break it then!" He interrupts impatiently, because you guys are running and he is trying to get to the others soon. " Actually, tell me how to break it, and go back to Strange's room, that psycho can't lay eyes on you."

"No chance, I'll fight with you." You contradict, and Tony turns around with a grimace, but doesn't have time to protest, because by the time you reach the inside of the castle, it's insane.

There are many wizards in there, from the order, from the ministry. Also, a lot of classmates and children. Your first thought is to mentally curse Stephen for not sending the students home.

But someone jumps on your neck. It's Gamora, hugging you so tightly that she almost knocks you to the ground.

"By Merlin, what you're doing here, you can't be here-"

"Good to see you too, little sister." You interrupt in a tearful laugh, some members of the order recognizing you as well, but they keep moving on out, probably to deal with the rest of Mephisto's army.

"She said something about death magic, Gamora, just get her out of the castle before he knows they're here." Tony warns and he looks at you for a second before following the crowd of wizards outside, wand in hand.

"Let's go down the top hallway and-" Gamora says, already pulling you along, but you don't move from your spot.

"No you don't understand, I need to destroy two things, and I need to know where Pietro is." You say quickly, and Gamora blinks in confusion before answering.

"I think Piete was covering the Suspension Bridge entrance but-"

Wanda is already running before Gamora is finished, and honestly, no chance in hell you won't follow her.

Gamora shouts your name about four times, but the crowd of people keeps her behind.

"We should get back to Agatha, girls." Charles tries to ration, but you and Wanda keep running.

Hogwarts has never been so crowded.

The students are getting desperate, and you think that's why they seem to be running everywhere.

The stairs are changing very quickly too, and you and Wanda grumble impatiently as you struggle to get to Pietro by them.

It's when you reach the third floor frame that you lose your breath all at once, and almost fall into the gap between the stairs, but Charles holds on by the cover.

"Stark, what is wrong?" he asks worriedly, and hearing this Wanda stops running, turning to check on you immediately.

But you're not listening.

I know you're here, child. And I'm going to kill every one of them if you don't give me back what’s mine.

You choke, shaking, blocking your mind. Mephisto had managed to get in for a second, long enough for you to fall to the floor.

"It's him." You gasp accepting Charles' help to stand properly. "He got inside my head, and he knows we're here, Wanda. We need to hurry."

"I have to find Pietro and-"

"I know, let's find him first and destroy the Horcruxes."

In the Suspension Bridge area, a duel was going on.

A small group of walkers were trying to invade the castle through that zone, and Professor T'Challa, along with Pietro were covering the place.

You didn't recognize any of the wizards, but it didn't matter much, because Wanda attacked them the next second, her magic going by the free space between Pietro and T'Challa to hit the three wizards with a wave of energy all at once, which threw them off the bridge.

The two boys turned around confused and impressed, but Wanda jumped on Pietro the next moment, hugging him tightly.

"Sestra!"He said, shocked, matching the squeeze with a tearful laugh. You smiled at the scene, but looked forward, and your stomach gave a complete flip.

"How touching, a family reunion." Hela mocked as she slowly approached, behind her, Loki and three other wizards you didn't know, "It'll be worth killing you all together then."

T'Challa attacked first, but Hela used a magic you had never seen before.

It was a black claw, coming out like an extension of her own hand. It didn't break apart with your teacher's stupore spell, but rather darted through his chest.

You let out a loud exclamation, widening your eyes.

T'Challa fell down to the floor, dead.

"Did you like my new trick? I learned a few months ago, when Maximoff brought us out of the forest. I needed to learn how to never let my bunnies run away again." Hela narrated as she pulled the claw back. "Nothing fairer than to use that on him don't you think?"

But you attacked, furiously.

A shower of spells began. Agatha's lessons had been worth it.

You were dueling three wizards at once.

Charles joined you at your side, while Pietro pulled the professor's body out of the way, sniffling softly.

And then Hela was aiming her claw at you again, and you had no idea which spell to use.

You know the spell. Kill her.

Hela missed as you pushed that sinister thought away.

Wanda hit her in the ribs with a wave of magic and she let out an angry and painful scream, the claw hit the wall behind you, narrowly missing your face.

You muttered a “Thanks, babe”, realizing that the claws had a regarch time.

Your problem for the next ten seconds was to keep your mind blocked from Mephisto, ignore the trembling in your body from having Wanda in danger, and dueling three witches at once.

Everything was under control.

Until Hela took aim at Wanda.

"No, she belongs to the dark lord!" The witch next to the woman shouted, but too late, because Hela shot.

And Pietro reached Wanda before you did.

He pushed her to the ground, and the claw went through his chest.

"N-no!" Wanda screamed, and everything exploded around you in a bright red light that threw you and everyone around.

You shook your head as you tried to understand what had happened.

But you raised your eyes to find Pietro on the ground, and Wanda standing there, a red circle around her before she attacked Hela with a energy so strong that completely disintegrated her.

And then the other three witches were targeted.

You reached Pietro, choking on his own blood.

Just like in Wanda's vision.

"Piete, no." You gasped tearfully, as you pressed your hands to his wound. "Please, buddy, keep your eyes open."

He just stared at you, losing his strength.

You could feel Wanda's liquid fury in your veins as she kept fighting.

And if you couldn't help her now, you would help Pietro.

The sorting hat fell from your head as she cast the spell, and you looked at Charles picking it up off the floor, a confused but impressed look on his face.

On the brim, the Hufflepuff's cup.

You remembered Agatha's memories in the same second. About the cup healing the wounded, like it healed Thanos' colleague.

And Charles threw it to you before you even asked.

As soon as it touched your bloody hands, the cup filled with a transparent liquid.

You recognized the appearance because Charles was an excellent potions mentor.

Pouring the fluid into the wound, Pietro cried out. His skin burned as it closed, but the wound gradually cleared.

"Wanda, he'll be okay, look!" You shouted, and it was the same second she was going to aim at Loki, who was already on the ground, his hands raised in pity.

She gasped out her own magic, turning to you.

Pietro was pale, but he was healed. And Wanda quickly knelt down to you, and you stepped back so she could hold him.

"Destroy it now, Miss Stark!" Charles directed as soon as the cup rolled from your hands to the floor.

You waved frantically, but when Wanda threw you with the magic, the sword fell forward as well.

And it was Loki who reached for it first.

"Give it back!" You ordered, wand raised to the boy with the mixed look of fear and anger in front of you.

He just shook his head, and seeing the validity of the item, and understanding that he had no chance of facing you all, he ran to the edge of the bridge, sword in the air.

"Stand back or I'll throw it." Loki warned, and you obeyed, your hands raised in the air.

"Loki, please give it back."

"What is it?"

"It doesn't matter, just give it to me."

"She killed my sister, Y/N." Loki accused then, his eyes filled with tears.

"And Hela tried to kill Pietro. I'm sorry, Loki, but we're not the ones fighting on the wrong side."

"Wrong side?" Loki let out a humorless laugh. "You have no idea what he's done do you?"

"Who, Loki?"

"Odin." He retorted in disgust, his sword swinging over the edge. You swallowed dryly, trying to think of the possibilities of reaching Loki before he threw the sword.

"No buddy, I don't know what you're talking about."

"You think you're fighting for the right side?" He angrily accuses. "Odin killed my parents!"

You frown in confusion.

"Is that why you are fighting for Mephisto? Is it for revenge?"

"I am a child of late autumn, Y/N." He clarified, and you widen your eyes. "Odin killed my family."

You shake your head. "No, Loki. Mephisto searched for the children, he wanted to find Wanda. He-"

"Do you really think only the dark lord was looking for the children of the prophecy?" He interrupts angrily. "Everyone was. And when Odin came into my house, my parents thought he was a walker, and they attacked. And Odin killed them. And because he loved to play the good man part, he took me to live with him. All these years, I never knew. Until Hela told me the truth."

"Do you think fighting for Mephisto changes that? Odin made a mistake in lying to you, that doesn't give you the right to follow a dictator."

"None of them had the right to lie to me." He continues angrily. "Your side pretends to be good, covering the lies for each other. But it was Odin who broke into my house and murdered my parents. He stole me. He stole my life."

"And I'm sorry, Loki." You said sincerely. "But teaming up with someone worse doesn't fix things. Give me back my sword."

"What is it for?"

"To destroy horcruxes."

Loki hesitates. He looks at you doubtfully, and then at the object at his feet.

"You are lying."

"No, I'm not." You return. "Please, Loki. We are friends. Don't make me take the sword from you by force."

Something in his eyes changes for a second. “Friends? Even after what I did?”

You swallow hard, nodding. “You knew it was me. That day. But you didn’t say anything. I think it’s because you’re not like them. You’re scared, like the rest of us.”

Loki just looks at you for a moment, then throws the sword on his other hand and advances against you.

But it’s not on yourself that he aims, it’s in the object at your foot.

The second the blade pierce the cup, a dark magic energy flows out of it. It throws you and Loki away, right to the floor.

You see the image of a furious face emerge before it completely fades away.

The second horcrux was destroyed.

Coughing a bit, you feel this sharp feeling behind your neck, and close your eyes.

Fool child. I will not have mercy on any.

It’s Wanda’s touch on your face that brings you back to reality. She’s pulling you to stand, worriedly looking at you as Charles carries Pietro inside.

“I’m okay, love.” You whisper weakly as she checks you, but you’re looking at Loki, who has the sword in hand, sitting on the floor. “You did it.”

You tell him, somewhere between proud and impressed, but the boy just seems tired. He swallows hard, as if trying to control the urge to cry as he stands up.

“There's little I know about my real parents, Y/N." Loki says approaching. "And one of those things is about their contempt for magics like Necromancy. There are things I need to figure out on my own. Loose ends in my story, that will now be harder to unravel without my sister, or my mother. But I will not follow anyone who is willing to kill others to avoid his own death. I think I'm pretty evil already."

Loki hands you the sword. You swallow dryly, holding his hand over the item.

"You're not evil, Loki." You say. "You just made the wrong choices."

He gives you a sad smile, the explosions getting more powerful. The fight is getting worse, and he sighs, moving away.

"Hela said he was looking for a chamber in the castle, something underground." He tells you, and before you can thank him, he has disappeared before your eyes.

You turn to Wanda, and she already has an understanding look on her face, knowing where you should go.

"Go. We'll join the main entrance." Charles said, but Pietro moved to protest, and Wanda touched his shoulders.

"No, I'm not leaving you two alone!" He shouted, but his sister shook her head, ignoring the tears.

"Up here, you'll be safer than with us." She said with her voice full of emotion. "Please, Piete. Just...go."

"Wanda..."

"Now."

Pietro swallows dryly, and hugs his sister one last time before heading back inside the castle with Charles, running towards the loudest noises.

"Let's end this, darling." You say as you intertwine your hands together.

//-//-//-//-//

It is in between stumbling around the crowd of wizards running through the third floor to the stairwell that you remember that you don't know how to get into the chamber of secrets.

"Wanda, wait." You say giving a gentle tug on the hand that remains entwined with you the whole way.

And she turns around curious and concerned, but you just shake your head.

"We don't know-"

"Let's find my father then." She interrupts and you give a short laugh.

"Stop reading my mind." You tease as she pulls you to walk, a mischievous smile on her lips.

You make your way down the stairs back to the second floor, and an explosion in the nearby hallways catches your attention immediately as a group of first-year students scream and run away from that direction.

You and Wanda exchange a glance before moving forward, only to reach the almost completely destroyed hallway. A huge crater had been opened in the wall by a giant outside, who was looking in.

"Witches!" Said the monster in a loud, slow voice, as it noticed you inside.

You choked, stumbled and pulled Wanda away, before the giant could stick his hand into the hole and grab you two.

“Okay, not this way.” You comment as you run the opposite direction, screaming to the students outside to go the other way around.

Back in the Grand Staircase, there are wizards on brooms.

You frown, not understanding what the point of that is, but you figure that in their desperation, the students have tried everything.

And then there are walkers coming in from the upper floors, and you understand that whoever is in the air was trying to prevent them from coming down.

"Darling, where do you think your father is?" You ask worriedly, looking up to see two seventh-year witches knocking out a walker on the uppermost stairs, flying between the staircases with their Quidditch brooms.

Wanda didn't respond as one of the walkers hit a staircase, blasting the steps with a bright spell, and she quickly stopped three students from falling, pushing them back to safety with her magic.

Slightly out of breath, she turned to you.

"Upstairs." She says.

You let out a sigh. The upper floors, and the main entrance are where the fighting is at its worst. That's where your bond will leave you breathless due to the danger Wanda will be in.

But you just nod, and guide Wanda between the stairs, occasionally exchanging spells with the walkers who make it down.

Professor Erik is nowhere to be found.

You and Wanda are running for about twenty minutes, and it’s getting hard to ignore the way the bond is begging you to take her away from danger, as you feel an insistent headache and chills around your body.

As you stop to catch your breath, around the fifth floor, you keep your head down, as you lean against a wall with your hands on your knees.

“What is it, babe?” Wanda asked worriedly, her hands coming to your neck. “Merlin, you’re pale.”

“I’m o-okay.” You say back, feeling a bit nauseous. “I think we’re close to ending this, love. That’s why i-”

But a strong explosion cuts your line, the magic doing it’s job to protect Wanda for the wreckage that came flying all the way around. Someone just destroyed the sixth floor, the remains of the explosion flying to the halls, all the way down the stairs.

Coughing a bit, you get up, helping Wanda stand properly as well.

Before any of you can understand what happened, there’s a wizard jumping on you.

“I got the protector!” He screamed as you two fell through the air, in the gap between the stairs. The walker could turn into some kind of flying mist, and even though you were struggling against his grip, you couldn't get loose, and the ground was closing in at a considerable speed.

Your ears had an irritating ringing, and from the way your whole body shook, someone had reached Wanda too.

But then the feeling diminished.

And as you fell, you saw the characteristic light of Wanda's magic, before the walker's mist overwhelmed your vision, and you crashed against the steps, cascading to the last floor, as your back hit the stairs many times before you hit the ground.

Groaning in pain, you felt your whole body aching as you tried to blink and locate yourself, all half blurred around you.

You thought someone was calling you, and trying to ignore the whole accident to focus on the feeling that you needed to protect Wanda, but just as you started to get up, something came around your ankles, and started dragging you.

"Keep them busy, you useless bastards! The dark lord just needs the protector for the ritual." It was the last thing you heard before the bruises from the fall knocked you out.

//-//-//-//-//-//

There was an insistent ringing in your ears when you opened your eyes again.

And the floor was cold and damp.

It took you a few seconds to realize that besides the water, your clothes were wet in places with blood from your wounds.

Your whole body ached, but you didn't mind.

Because every cell was screaming Wanda's name.

Find her. Protect her.

You choked as you forced yourself to move, noticing your surroundings.

“Wanda?” you gasped breathlessly, trying to locate yourself. It seemed like a long hallway, and it was dark.

You could hear the explosions from the castle, even if they were muffled.

Someone chained you to the walls, and you realized that there were voices in the distance, and as you sat up, you tried to understand what they were saying:

"Harkness is going to help with the ritual." Someone commented. "Our master and his apprentice are finally united again."

"I thought he wanted to kill the girls." Retorted the male voice.

"The dark lord wants the scarlet magic, but he can only get it with Agatha's help, because of the fusion she did. I think she managed to convince him not to kill the children. For now at least."

The voices grew closer, until two tall, frowning wizards with their faces hidden by skull masks turned down the corridor, catching up with you.

"Hey, the sleepyhead is finally awake." Teased the taller one, raising his wand toward you to make the chains force you to your feet. "Come on, they're waiting for you."

Fighting the chains was useless, but you did it anyway.

And your head began to pound. Wherever Wanda was, she was in danger. Or maybe it was because she should be in great stress right now.

As you were dragged down the corridor, you were startled by the magnitude of the snakes embedded in the stones.

And then it occurred to you where you were.

Salazar Slytherin's chamber of secrets.

The walkers led you to the center, and as you reached the place, you noticed that colorful runes were drawn on the pillars, and candles were flying around. And in the middle, a pentagram that you didn't recognize.

What frightened you the most, was the gigantic basilisk skeleton in the corner of the room, perched like a work of art. You deduced that many years ago, the mortal remains of the creature were moved back into the chamber to avoid the curious.

It was no less frightening.

The wizard from before, hit your knees with a colorful spell, and you fell to the ground, facing the pentagram.

"Wait here, protector." He said, and then gave a little laugh. "Not that you have a choice."

"Fuck you." You grumbled but then gasped in pain, the torture curse hitting you in the ribs then making you curl down on the floor.

"Stop it, Zsasz!" Asked the wizard next to you, pushing the other's wand away, and consequently making the spell stop. You gasped with relief. "She's not ours to play with."

"Tell her to behave herself then, Vormund ." Retorted the angry Zsasz fellow. "I hate those half-bloods."

"Calm down, you idiot." Warned the other. "This will be over soon. Don't do anything to annoy the dark lord again. He's already pissed off enough with the destruction of the darkhold."

You widen your eyes, and let out a humorless laugh.

"Ouch, your master lost his little book? What a pity." You teased helplessly, and almost regretted the kick to the stomach you received, but the infuriated faces of the walkers made it worth it.

"You won't keep that little smile on your face when I rip out your spine!" Threatened Zsasz, causing you to lock your jaw by the wand on your neck.

"What's going on here?" interrupted a female voice, coming from the hallway.

It was a woman you didn't know, without a mask like the other two. And her confident posture, or perhaps her presence, made the walkers jump away from you.

"N-nothing, ma'am." Answered Vormund quickly. "The half-blood was being rebellious an-"

"And you two assume you have any right to correct her?" Cut the witch snidely, moving closer. "This must be a joke."

The wizards exchanged glances, but bowed their heads.

"Forgive us, Lady Mystique, it won't happen again." Said Zsasz, but the woman just held up her hand telling him to keep his apology.

"Go back to the entrance. No one must interrupt the ritual. And the dark lord is on his way." She said simply, and the wizards looked at you one last time before they started walking off in the direction they had carried you.

The Mystique woman waited until they had disappeared down the hall to look at you.

"I'm sorry for the hostility, dear, in the best of words, they are brutes." She said, waving so that the knot in your chains loosened a bit, which lessened the pain, but did not free you. You also felt a slight push on your back and legs, forcing you to stand gently.

"Do you expect thanks for the mild torture, ma'am? Not going to happen." You retort between teeth, trying to look around for some way out. But the chamber was dark and you didn't know the place.

The Mystique woman seemed to find your harshness amusing, and gave a short laugh, following your curious gaze.

"Even if you try to run, they will catch up with you." She says, making you lock your jaw.

"And even if you escape the spells, you won't be able to ignore the bond."

You have no argument really, so you just sigh. "What are they going to do to me?"

"The dark lord wants the scarlet magic." She answers. "And he needs to break Agatha's spell to get it now."

“But if he kills us, the magic will be gone.”

“That’s why he’s breaking the spell before killing you two.” She states simply, as you feel your stomach turn. But her eyes are gentle, and makes you confused, so you try to bargain.

“Please, you can’t let him do that, he’s insane and-”

“Enough with the begging, i hate it.” She cuts impatiently, but not cruelly. “Just do what you’re supposed to do and don’t freak out.” She whispers and you can hear steps coming closer. “We’re ending this for once.”

You frown, but Mystique is putting her hands on your arms to spin you around, making you look forward.

Widening your eyes, you take a step forward.

"A-Agatha, help me!" You ask quickly, watching the woman come out of one of the hallways to meet you in the center, wand in hand. "They're trying to do a ritual and-argh!"

Your speech turns to a groan of pain as Mystique's magic throws you to the floor on your knees, bending you over.

"Kneel in the presence of the dark lord, child." The woman warns beside you, and you choke as you feel your whole body shudder.

In the tunnel beside Agatha comes a man, whom you recognize well.

"Agatha, what's going on?" You ask confused as you see her walk beside Mephisto, to the center to meet you. And her expression is impassive, and you want to vomit. "Professor, what...?"

"Just look at that child, old friend." Mephisto interrupts, assessing you as you walk. "How did someone so weak get chosen to protect my sorceress?"

You lock your jaw, staring angrily at the wizard. He nods to the witch beside you, who also bowed.

"Raven, dear, thank you for taking care of everything." He says. "You may go, we will need privacy for the ritual. Go up to the castle, my sorceress needs to stay busy as much as possible until we're done here. And then you can leave it to me, I'll go after her myself."

“As you desire, my lord.” Raven says before getting up and leaving.

"After everything, you're going to betray us?" You accuse Agatha angrily, but she says nothing, just deflects her face to Mephisto, who gives a short laugh.

"Only a fool would believe that wizards like us do not belong together, Miss Stark." He says, and with a flick of his hands, all the candles in the place display a green flame. "Let's get on with it, Agatha. I need your help now that that fool destroyed my book."

"Yes, Faustus." Agatha replied before nodding toward you, and the chains glowed purple, steadying you tightly against the pentagram, which also lit up. "Let's begin."

//-//-//-//-//

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#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x yn #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #marvel imagines #The Scarlet Witch Prophecy

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creativeashproductions · 4 years

Text

Reluctant Vacation // Charlie Gillespie

Summary: The niece of the infamous Kenny Ortega had its advantages and disadvantages, you received insight on his projects but felt guilty saying no. Kenny seeing the exhaustion pulling you down invites to the set of Julie and the Phantoms where you rediscover your love with the field.

Warning: Swearing and fluff.

Words 2.2k

A/N: I do take requests. It may take a bit to get to them but I’ll post some.

Please ask to be tagged in my inbox because I can’t promise you will be through commenting on the posts!

Masterlist

The sigh came from deep in your chest wanting to drop to the floor for an exhaustion induced nap, but an airport wasn’t the best place. Large sunglasses obscured people from seeing the deep bags under your eyes on the way to the film lot. It was coming full circle, the change different from the frantic schedule you had had recently. When Kenny called you hadn’t hesitated in packing and buying a ticket.

“Miss Y/L/N?” The voice pulled you from your thoughts as a man holding a card with your name displayed. He was of Puerto Rican descendent with a young girl beside him with similar features, “I’m Ricardo. This is my daughter Madison.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m-“

“Y/N Y/L/N.” Madison supplied with a beaming grin on her face having recognized you from your role as Sabrina in The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina along with movies.

All you could do was send a fragile smile in response after a long sleepless flight to Canada.

Madison’s eyes saddened at the exhaustion you carried, “I can fangirl later. You looked really tired.”

“Kenny saw and asked me to come over the guise of help, but he knows I need a break. He’s lucky I don’t need to be on set for a few weeks.” You replied, covering a yawn as you found yourself at a car, the walk a blur.

Unintentionally you found yourself asleep in the backseat the moment you settled back there for the drive. You had filmed in Vancouver before, so it wasn’t a huge deal, and the Reyes’ duo didn’t have the heart to wake you up.

“We’re here,” Madison whispered with the back-car door opened. Your eyelids fluttering at her voice, giving Madison a closer look at your face.

Walking on set, you saw Kenny giving one of his pep talks before he cut himself off at the sight of you. The actors surrounding him furrowed their brows as the legendary director power walked to a person concealed behind Mads.

“Sweetheart.” Kenny beamed, pulling his niece in for a hug before leaning back to scan her features, “You need a nap.”

“I need to meet your new cast.” You snickered stepping around the man to the three actors he had abandoned to see you. You found amusement in their widening eyes at the sight of the Y/N walking to them.

“Oh, my shit.” Owen gasped freaking out as the actress co-starring in the new Spider-Man trilogy came closer.

Last night Owen, Charlie and Jeremy had hosted a movie night in the rented apartment the first two rented. They had quickly made their way through Captain America: Civil War before watching the following movies with Spider-Man. You had a cameo in Captain America: Civil War before becoming a star in Homecoming and Far From Home.

“We manifested her.” Charlie hissed frantically fixing his set costume growing a blush at the smile you wore. He could feel the hair stylist on standby glaring at his tousled locks.

The girl in question came to a stop before the three guys portraying the phantoms of the show in the second season. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the expressions each one of them had.

“Hello.” You greeted flattered when the tall blonde one turned a blossom pink at the voice of an angel. Charlie and Owen had developed celebrity crushes on you.

In revenge, Tori, a returning choreographer and background character, saw Charlie’s expression along with a familiar girl. After filming season one ended the previous year you had stopped by during the filming process of CAOS to catch up with Kenny. Tori had been there and you two became friends.

“Hey!” Tori grinned, pulling you into a hug, “These three binged your MCU movies last night, and Charlie’s wallpaper is you.”

“Tori!”

“This is what you get for telling Booboo about the poster!” Tori called to the Canadian boy jogging out his area. Charlie’s cheek darkened more than Owen’s as your smile grew bigger.

“No worries Ghost. Luke definitely my favourite character and gotta say you should have been on Charmed more than two episodes.” You supplied walking backwards to Kenny once more yearning for a night’s rest after the flight.

“Holy shit.” Charlie choked smacking Jeremy’s arm repeatedly, “She knows me. Oh, oh, OH. She’s seen me-“

“-Getting it on for a scene.” Jeremy snickered as his friend grew more and more flustered, “That was tame compared to her and Tom going at it.”

Charlie’s face dropped being reminded of the explicit scene you had done with Tom Holland in the movie that came out near the end of 2020. The Devil All the Time was the only film out of the MCU you had done with Tom. You had played the promiscuous daughter of a devout, loyal churchgoer and close friend of the preacher.

“Didn’t they date for a few months?” Owen questioned thinking back to the media mayhem during the virtual press for the film.

Owen was correct with the chemistry between you and Tom it was natural you would do interviews together via shared video chats. Charlie watched every single one that came out with interest. He hadn’t even expected the film to do so dark and explicit, but you had a natural talent.

“English, handsome, actor-“ Charlie started to list off on the English actor with a far more extensive list of credits. Charlie felt like a Canadian child in the city of Los Angeles compared to your leading man.

“-runs a charity with his family.” Jeremy continued raising one eyebrow, “At least he isn’t tall. You’d be fully screwed.”

Charlie shoved his teasing friends away with a smirk of his own as the trio continued on to the film. Charlie put his feelings on the back burner to focus on the storyline and emotions of the scene.

“Spider-Man Three baby!” The English accent shouted from the phone with only an ocean separating the two actors. Tom hadn’t even greeted you before screaming at the news you both received; despite the scripts from a few weeks prior the sequel had fully been greenlighted

Your head tossed back at the childlike glee on the older adult, clearly displaying the two years really mean he was two years old. After meeting on the set of Civil War along with Harrison, you had become friends. Followed with the following MCU appearances, it had been a surprise to be cast in Devil All the Time.

“Insane.” You started making your way through the set to where Kenny had texted you from. It was closing to the end of your vacation.

In the few weeks, you had reconnected with Tori on her breaks along with becoming good friends with the cast members. Something clicked between you and the core four of the show even if Madison sometimes still got starstruck.

“Did you read the script?” Tom questioned quirking his infamous eyebrow his fans wholly adored. You found it amusing, to be honest, that every character he portrayed had the same eyebrow.

“Not fully. I’m surrounded by people, and unlike you, I prefer not to jeopardize my career with marvel.” You teased glancing up as Charlie and Owen made their way over, “I’ll be flying out in a few days for filming.”

Tom nodded his head, “I got get back. Jacob and Haz are visiting. Remember to film the announcement! Bye Love!”

You gave a thumbs up before Tom ended the facetime glancing up at the duo who each raised their eyebrows. Charlie’s mask nearly breaking at Tom’s goodbye. Charlie could feel the cover of his feelings falling more and more each day.

“Announcement?” Owen questioned, slipping his jacket on over his shoulders having changed from his Alex outfit.

“Nothing.” You waved it off, starting to walk backwards with a smile that Charlie thought made your eyes shine brighter than stars.

The boys followed behind on the walk to the house Jeremy and Carolynn had decided to rent during filming. You had been crashing there as Jeremy didn’t want Carolynn to be alone with his filming schedule. It also gave the perfect place for your plan. Last few nights you had binged the marvel movies again ending with Far From Home.

The living room was decked out by Carolynn with your help from earlier as she was the only know that knew. Everyone settled in the living room with Mr Reyes there as well who had quickly become a father figure to you.

“So, I wanted everyone here for a reason. I’m sure you’ve noticed I’ve been reading a script and I have something to open.” You started thanking Jeremy as he brought in the package, he had no clue of the contents, “Now nobody says any spoilers for season two.”

You turned on the camera Paul Becker had supplied with a small smile having already filmed the opening sequence. You sat on the floor in the camera shot, opening the big box to hand out the smaller boxes to your friends. Charlie, Owen, Jeremy, Madison, Savannah, Booboo and every else glanced at the non-descript red box.

“Open them.” You urged grinning as the room went silent except for the tape ripping off the packages.

In each individual box was marvel themed candy, a plushie of Spider-Man along with signed cards from the Avengers actors and the MCU Spider-Man cast. At the very bottom, all it said was to look up at you. Instead of facing them with their looks of shock, you addressed the camera.

“Tom and I are so incredibly happy to announce that Spider-Man 3 is in the beginning process of filming.” You beamed at the camera listening to the intense noise of your friends screaming, “we can’t reveal anything else about the film, but the script is immaculate as usual. You’ll get to see Harper on the screen once more.”

“WHAT!” The collective scream behind you came as you waited a second before ending the video. You’d have to replay it before sending to marvel for the finishing touches with Tom’s version and then you could post it on Instagram.

“Surprise!” You spoke to the group behind you all in states of excitement, “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to tell you guys! I got the script a few days before I came.”

“Holy shit.” Owen spoke, laughing at he shook his head, “You managed to get autographs from fucking Iron Man himself.”

“I got connections.” You snorted meeting the gaze of Charlie, “Nah, Downey’s kids came for a visit, and I kept them company. Downey offered to do anything, and I took the favour.”

The surprise wore off as the group mingled, but Charlie’s eyes stayed pinned to your form as you sent a message to Tom. Locking your phone to noticed his eyes.

“Hey Charlie.” You smiled, sitting on the couch next to him. His expressive eyes showing a silver screen of emotions you couldn’t quite decipher.

The corner of his mouth tilted up in response to the way his name rolled off your tongue, sending his heart stuttering. A cold sweat appearing when you grasped his hand in yours in a confident manner.

“So, you leave soon?” Charlie murmured moving closer to hear you among the chatter of the group. Your lips turned down for a split second as you felt the sadness of leaving.

It was refreshing to be on set without the demands of makeup, costumes, filming and choreography. To see the action and magic but not be part of it was a definite change you had needed desperately. But to leave Charlie hurt.

“My call time is in three days. Need to get ready to bring Harper Osbourne back to the big screen.” You replied, loosening your grip on his hand, “I don’t really want to go back. I’m gonna miss you…and everyone else of course.”

Unaware to the eyes watching in anticipation you and Charlie conversed further on the upcoming months. To the great disappointment of the house began to clear out, Owen for an early call time. Savannah was meeting with her brother, and Mr Reyes was taking Madison home.

It left Jeremy and Carolynn to retire to their bedroom while you stayed on the couch with Charlie for longer. The emotions building from the prior weeks, bubbling to the surface. Hearts thudding in their chest Charlie leaned in glancing at your lips; yours glancing at his.

Who moved first couldn’t be known, but as your lips brushed together just barely you felt grounded and peaceful. If he leaned closer, you wonder what the kiss would make you feel.

“I’d like to kiss you.” Charlie murmured startled at the confidence he had gained, “But before I do. Do you have something with Tom?”

“Other than onscreen chemistry? Absolutely nothing.” You spoke barely louder than a whisper to the boy that had become so much more than some actor.

He was Charlie. The goofy boy that put a smile on anyone’s face with an impromptu concert in the middle of a crowded street. He lived life to the fullest without any regrets. He was passionate about his work, music and the environment.

Those thoughts evaporated when lips met another pair of lips in what might be described as the best kiss ever. No fireworks felt as Wattpad would say, but instead, it was the heady warmth of hot chocolate on a cold day; a warm shower after a long stressful day. It was home and perfect.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

@safehavenmuse @siennanoelle01 @whiterose291 @mell-bell @blackhood5sos @ficrecsideblog @ifilwtmfc @deadpoolgirl23 @crappy-unicorn @sunsetcurve-h @elioelioeli0 @lovesanimals @popcrone818 @lolychu @deepsleepnat @tenaciousperfectionunknown @aunicornmademedoit @just-a-writer-here @simp4reggie @parkeret @faithiebrock01 @overlyhypedup @differentsoulrascalsalad @aesthetic-lyss @versaceapa @carleywhittaker @lostgirl219 @itsalexx21 @elllaoo4 @merxxleighann @mediocremunge @fantomlovesjuke4ever @dpaccione @oswin05 @kaylinfayezink @aberette13 @faithie-brock-gillespie01 @eharvey0218 @overlyhypedup @benstormy @auriandthepussicats @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @whothefuckstolemykeds @kcd15 @siriuswvrld @princessvader15 @xoxbloodreinaxox @heimdoodle @joshy-obx @lovesanimals @oopsiedoopsie23 @am3l1a-24 @flying-solo-without-you @jaskiers-sweetkiss @lostrandomfangirln @must-be-a-weasley-92 @jatp-holland @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @dxlanhxlland @dasexydevitt13 @ifilwtmfc @arianagrandes-things @kinda-really-lost @marinettepotterandplagg @ssprayberrythings @morgandamrose @thedarkqueenofavalon @zukoshonourr @crybabyddl @spooky-season-bitch

#charlie gillespie imagines #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie #jatp fanfic #luke patterson imagines #caitsy and ash productions

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littlemisspascal · 4 years

Text

Death and an Angel part 7

Helmetless + Death!Din and Cupid F!Reader

Summary: Maybe you should have tried harder, or held onto him tighter. Maybe then you wouldn't be feeling this gaping hole in your chest where your heart used to beat.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,297

Warnings: Description of a dead body, major character death (but technically you already know it happened, just not how it did...so...), heartbreak, major angst, a bit of fluff at the end, a couple familiar faces may or may not show up

Author Note: Seriously, you all are the best readers I could ever hope to have. The response to Part 6 was unbelievable and I can’t thank everyone enough for the support, especially when I continue to be evil and end the segments with such horrible cliffhangers.

Links to Part 1 and Part 6 and Part 8

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

Maker, your head hurts.

It throbs angrily as if a mudhorn has impaled your brain on its horn. In fact, your whole body feels like one giant bruise. Grimacing, you take a deep breath, only to enter a coughing fit when you inhale a lungful of smoke.

Cracking an eye open, panic seizes you when all you see is smoke. Ash gray and thick, it obscures your immediate surroundings from view. You can’t even tell if it’s night or day.

What the kriff is going on?

Swallowing against the dryness of your throat, you slowly sit up and feel pieces of grit and rubble dig into the tender flesh of your palms. A quick look shows no blood, soulmate mark unaffected, and you sigh a quiet breath of relief. But then worry starts to sink in when you realize you can’t remember where you are or what knocked you unconscious. Before you can spiral into a panic attack, the ground beneath you starts to tremble, causing the tiny fragments of gravel to wildly bounce around.

A shrill metallic screech pierces your ears followed immediately by a massive burst of vibrant orange flames erupting in the distance. You yelp, hastily pushing yourself onto your feet and start to run in the opposite direction, ignoring the howl of protest from your aching body.

You can’t even see two steps in front of you, effectively ruining your attempt at a quick escape as you clumsily skirt around piles of debris that appear out of the smoke and threaten to block your way. Every breath is a wheeze, lungs making it painfully clear they cannot draw in enough oxygen from the smoky atmosphere to support your chosen pace. But the mere thought of dying here in this nightmarish inferno is enough to urge you to keep moving, keep putting one foot in front of the other, even as it simultaneously creates a tight, anxious knot in your stomach.

Another explosion detonates behind you. The ground quakes and groans, cracks appearing at an alarming rate as if the planet itself is being torn apart by the chaos. Your foot catches on one of the rifts, eliciting a cry of shock to tear itself out of your throat when you’re unable to reclaim your balance and plummet forward.

Except it’s not the ground that rises up to meet you.

No.

It’s a body.

A dead body, to be precise. Burnt to a blackened crisp, as if the person had been dropped directly into a sun. Their skeletal features are frozen in an expression of torture, mouth gaping wide in a silent scream. The stench of their seared flesh overwhelms your nostrils and ingrains itself in your brain, ensuring you’ll never forget the horrific smell for the rest of your lifetime.

Whimpering, you scramble backwards, curling your legs tight against your heaving chest. You look around, bile rising in your throat when you glimpse through the sea of smoke more charred corpses surrounding you. It’s as if you’ve stumbled upon a mass grave, and again the thought crosses your mind: what the kriff is going on?

You stand up, not wanting to linger another second in their presence, and continue moving forward, each footstep slow and careful as you maneuver around the bodies. The smoke is marginally thinner the further away you move from the fiery blasts, just enough for you to make out the faint outlines of collapsed buildings on either side of you, homes of families destroyed for reasons you don’t understand. Gut instinct keeps insisting that everything you’re seeing is wrong, that none of this destruction and carnage should have ever happened.

Again, you attempt to string together your memories, forcing your brain to comply despite the pounding ache it produces in your temples. Honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if you had a concussion.

Details slowly start coming to mind, little and meaningless by themselves, but when put together form a grander picture. You came here to visit your best friend. ‘Here’ being a Mid-Rim planet with a ridiculously long and multisyllabic name you couldn’t pronounce then, and your poor head certainly can’t identify now. The transport flight had been long and you’d arrived later than anticipated, verging on late afternoon when you’d stepped off the craft.

On your way to your friend’s house, the sun had abruptly gone dark. Everyone had stopped to look to the sky, yourself included. A light cruiser, kite-shaped and unmistakable, hovered directly overhead. Its presence was ominous, evoking the crowd of civilian spectators to murmur amongst themselves.

Then its weapons unleashed a storm of hellfire.

Oh, Maker. How could you have ever forgotten the screams?

You’re pulled out of your dismal thoughts by the appearance of a dark shape ahead of you, its outline standing out as noticeably different than the surrounding rubble. Gradually, your brain starts to distinguish human features: a head, broad shoulders and limbs.

It also occurs to you that they’re coming straight at you.

Before you can decide whether to flee or fight or do anything remotely conducive to increasing your odds of survival, the human-shaped blur barrels straight into you, hitting you with such force you instinctively grip onto their coat, just above their wrists, to keep from falling backwards. The feather-light grazing of the edge of your palm against their skin elicits a buzz of shocking warmth, as if you’ve touched a live wire instead of flesh.

It’s you, the thought pops into your head unprompted, like a fact you’ve always known since you were born. The feeling is breathtaking and electric, a lightning bolt striking the center of your heart. Every cell in your body is radiating exuberance and cheering: it’s you, it’s you, it’s you! The one I’ve been waiting for!

You’re pushed sideways, a small cry of surprise escaping your lips.

“Get out of my way.” It’s a masculine voice, sharp with impatience yet it wraps itself around your heart all the same. He doesn’t spare you a second glance as he continues heading in the direction you’ve been coming from.

“Wait,” you protest, because it’s not supposed to be like this. You’ve started shaking, from adrenaline or the shock of his dismissal, you’re not sure.

The man pauses, keeping his back facing you. His dark clothes are conspicuously clean, and you can’t help comparing them to your own which are sooty and torn in places. For the second time, your gut instinct is telling you something is wrong, but this time you ignore it in favor of listening to the screaming of your heart urging you to never let this man out of your sight.

“We’re soulmates,” you say, desperate for him to stay.

His fingers curl into fists, the only forewarning you have before he snaps your heart in half as he mutters, “You could never be my soulmate.”

And then you’re watching as he disappears into the smoke, not once looking back to gauge the aftermath of his rejection. You had always been a hopeless romantic, dreaming that you and your soulmate would meet and live a long, happy life together until Death came to reap your souls. In less than thirty seconds, your soulmate had just cruelly crushed those dreams without either of you exchanging names or seeing each other’s faces.

Maybe you should have tried harder, or held onto him tighter. Maybe then you wouldn't be feeling this gaping hole in your chest where your heart used to beat.

Acting on impulse, you start running after him. If you can just have a second chance to make a better impression, maybe you can change his mind. Maybe you can convince him to accept you as his soulmate, agree to take your hand and never let go. And maybe, just maybe, he’ll fall in love with you, deeply and profoundly, just like every soulmate pairing you’ve heard about.

With a head full of maybes, you don’t even hear the bomb drop.

It hits the ground with a resounding thud, and then your world is an explosion of red and orange heat, consuming you whole without leaving behind any evidence you’d ever existed at all. Your vision shifts and blurs, memories of your lifetime flashing by too quickly to recognize each one, but through it all you hear a voice, his voice, echoing those dreadful words over and over again.

You could never be my soulmate. Never. Never. Never.

~~~

You wake up with a jolt, throat raw as if you really had been inhaling smoke. You’re drenched in sweat and you push away the heavy blanket covering you before realizing it is definitely not your blanket nor are you currently in your own bed. Looking around, panic begins to prickle along your nerve endings when you fail to recognize anything familiar about your location.

You’re in someone’s home, that much is obvious from the furnishings. The ceiling overhead is made of overlapping metal and is slightly rounded, reminding you of a cave or burrow. There is a lantern hanging on a nearby hook, but the light it emanates is dim compared to the sunshine pouring in from the four small, square-shaped windows cut into the wall behind you above the bed. The view through the windows is slightly blurry, but you can make out the blue sky and what you think is a corral of some kind.

Rubbing a hand over your face to wipe away the lingering exhaustion, you’re surprised when your hand encounters something rough covering the side of your forehead. A bandage. Strange, you must have hit your head somewhere—

The past comes back in flashes: Din confessing his feelings, touching his hand, the spark of warmth, falling unconscious on the floor.

Where is Din?

“You are awake.”

The voice is expressionless and mechanical in tone, stating the obvious. Even so, you jump, not having noticed the droid sitting in the far corner of the room during your initial survey. Its red sensors and dark colored plating would make it look menacing if not for the tray it clutches in its hands, balancing cups and a pitcher.

“I am IG-11,” the droid says as it approaches.

“IG?” you echo hoarsely, sitting up with alarm. “As in one of those assassin droids?”

“I have been reprogrammed as a nurse.” It considers you for a moment, internal mechanisms whirring, and then the tray is held out closer for you to reach. “Tea?”

Hesitantly, you pour yourself some and hold the cup with both hands as you take a sip. The tea is warm as it slides down your throat, flavorful and far more exotic than the kind you’ve tasted back home in Umbriel.

“Where am I?” you ask after you’ve swallowed two more gulps.

“Arvala-7.”

You blink, barely familiar with the name which only intensifies your worry about Din’s absence.

“Okay, but like, where exactly on Arvala-7?” you press, gesturing around the room. “How did I even get here?”

“Your current location is a moisture farm owned and operated by Kuiil,” IG-11 says, moving away to set the tray on a nearby table, though its head remains facing your direction. “Death brought you here unconscious with an injury to your central processing unit.”

“My central…” you trail off, squinting. “Was that supposed to be a joke?”

“Yes. It was meant to put you at ease.”

“Right.” You nod to yourself, reaching a decision. Downing the last of your drink, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and make a move to stand. “This has been great, but I’ve really got to go find Death so—”

A wave of dizziness washes over you, forcing you to sit back down. Kriff, you think, closing your eyes until you’re certain you won’t be seeing double anymore.

“You won’t find Death here.” A new voice, crackling with age, informs you. His words are ominous, but his tone isn’t one of malice or ill-intent.

Turning, you see an Ugnaught approaching from the entrance of the house. He stops beside IG-11, green eyes peering at you from beneath bushy white eyebrows, but you don’t feel threatened by his nearness.

“I am Kuiil. Death entrusted me with looking after you until his return from Nevarro,” he says, sitting down upon a stool with his arms braced upon his knees. “You must continue to rest until you are well. I have spoken.”

You press a hand to your chest, feeling a pang of hurt at Din’s decision. “He left?”

“Death is bound by creed to the universe to reap the dead. Nothing, not even his soulmate, can be put before it.”

You choke on your spit. “Soulmate? We’re not—”

“Even if he had not told me,” Kuiil interrupts, unwilling to hear your dissuading opinion when he is certain of his own. “I would have known it from how he stubbornly stayed at your side and by how loathsome he was to leave you behind. In all my years, I have not seen him behave in such a twitterpated manner.”

“He…” Your voice wavers, torn between hopefulness and disbelief. “He really told you we’re soulmates?”

Kuiil, reaching towards the table for the pitcher of tea, pauses and slowly turns back to look at you. “You were unaware of your matched connection with Death? Did you two not touch hands as most fated pairs often do?”

Any reply you might have said falters when you look down at your hands in your lap. More specifically, your left hand. The one Din had grasped. The one that in your past life had brushed against your soulmate minutes before you died.

Right there in the middle of your palm, innocently gleaming like it’s always been there and therefore isn’t at all responsible for the rapid increase of your heartbeat, is a soulmate marking.

Tag List: @leilei-draws, @theocatkov, @becauseican2, @vintagesaph, @stardust-and-starlight, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @adrieunor, @remmyswritings, @gallowsjoker, @rhiannon-russo, @randomness501, @eleine-t1d, @nicotinebirds, @sylphene, @softly-sad, @maytheglitter, @melobee, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @eleinemk, @captain-jebi, @aerynwrites, @promiscuoussatan, @stilllivindue2spite, @coaaster

#my fic #death and an angel #din x you #din djarin x you #din x reader #Din Djarin #mandalorian x reader #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #soulmate au #my writing

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cleanlenins · 3 years

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Ectober Day 2: Scream

He Just Screams Uncool

Ectober Day 2: Scream

During Fright Knight, Mr. Lancer gets sent to a fear dimension after being stabbed by Soulshredder. What would have happened if Dash had gotten stabbed? What would his fear dimension look like?

AO3

Warnings: Light body horror

Dash trembled, covering his ears and crushing his eyes closed. He cowered in a corner, unable to muster the courage to move. This wasn't real. This wasn't real. This wasn't real .

Freaky Fenton must have done something. He was so desperate to win the stupid Haunted House competition that he had cheated. Yeah, that must be what he had done. He had gotten help. Maybe he didn't even do any of it himself. Not that Dash had done anything himself either-

He heard a distant laughter and crushed his palms against his ears. He didn’t want to hear it anymore.

Leave it to the freak to come up with something like this.

He whimpered as he heard the laughter get closer, pressing harder into the corner. The brick walls digging into his arm. He thought back and tried to find some explanation for this madness.

Dash had already won. He knew it. He could see on Lancer’s face as he showed off his room. There was no way Fenton could top this. Fenton’s room was a joke, just like everything else about the loser. It was just up to Mr. Lancer to say the final words.

And then...what had happened? Dash can't remember. It was all so hazy, like trying to remember a fading dream. Someone had shown up, dressed in armor and face obscured in darkness. He almost remembered the horrifying feeling of metal sliding through his chest. But he checked and he was whole. There was no wound. No blood. No pain-

One minute Dash had been standing next to Lancer, the next he was suddenly outside the school? How did he get there? And it was daylight? Dash blinked at the sudden light. It was crowded with students milling around, but he immediately spotted Paulina and Kwan. His friends could never be mistaken for the normal geeks and freaks that populated the school. Both of their backs were turned to him. Maybe they would know what had happened.

Dash had walked up to the duo, raising his hand to clap Kwan on the shoulder with a cocky grin. The smirk melted away as his hand went through Kwan's arm. Dash stared at his hand, completely dumbfounded. Frozen in place in his confusion. Was he tripping? He didn’t remember taking anything. Then Paulina and Kwan turned and walked through him. Dash gasped at the foreign feeling, like the ice baths he and the team would take after training. Except the cold was under his skin. Under his muscles. Like his bones were made of snow and mist. And then it was gone.

“Guys!” Dash shouted in surprise, but neither Kwan nor Paulina turned to face him. Neither showed any signs of even seeing him. They continued to walk up the path. Dash ran to cut them off, waving his hands in front of their faces. Neither blinked. Dash tried to block their way but once more they walked right through him. He bit his lip, scanning around the school ground for any other familiar faces.

He rushed over to Valerie and tried to grab her shoulder, intent on spinning the girl around to look at him. But once more his hand went through. Star gestured wildly and her hand went through Dash’s head. He flinched away from the uncomfortable feeling. Dale threw his football through the air, and instead of catching it, Dash watched it pass through his chest before nailing that nerd Mickey in the head. Dash couldn’t even take pleasure in the nerd’s broken glasses.

He wasn’t panicking. No, he would never panic. He was the school star for heaven's sake. The hero of Casper. He wouldn’t be beaten by some freaky trick. He started screaming, yelling for someone to notice him. He tried to grab people. Tried to throw books and binders. Yelled expletives in their faces. Tried to punch random people. He definitely didn’t cry, no, those weren’t tears. He was just sweating. His heart was pounding against his chest from the running, not fear. His scream broke off as he choked down a sob. No, it wasn’t a sob! He leaned heavily against the flag poles, somehow not falling through them. He glanced around the grounds in despair. He was at a loss. He was...losing?

His eyes snapped to a trio not that far from him. He focused on Fenton, who seemed to be engrossed in a conversation with Foley. Dash nearly growled in anger, before marching over to Fenton.

Fenton seemed to shudder as he approached, a cold mist floating from his mouth. Typical freak weirdness. The smaller teen looked up and met Dash’s eye. Instead of cowering in fear, a wide grin split Fenton’s face. Dash flushed in rage.

“What did you do, Fenton?”

“What do you mean?” Fenton asked, grin widening even more.

“Why is everyone acting like they can’t see me? Why can’t I touch anything? If this is something your weirdo parents made-” Dash stuttered to a stop as he watched Fenton’s smile only grow wider, every tooth on display and...were his teeth sharper than usual?

“What do you mean no one can see you, Dash?” Fenton tilted his head, unblinking eyes seemed to be staring directly into his soul. The pupils were blown wide, only hinting at a circle of blue around the black. “I can see you. I have always been able to see you.”

Fenton took a step. Dash swallowed as he took a step away. Fenton’s grin grew even wider. Impossibly wide. Could mouths even reach that wide?

“W-what’s that supposed to mean, you freak?” Dash stuttered as he put distance between him and the nerd. Fenton continued to stroll, a very low chuckle.

“That’s why you don’t like me, Dash. Because I can see you for who you are and who you will be,” Fenton giggled. “A nobody.”

“J-just-Shut up, Fenturd!” Dash tried to hold his ground, balling his hands into fists to hide the tremors.

“You know that someday they are going to see it, too. See you for the nothing you are. Stupid, useless, boring, lame-the list goes on, doesn’t it? You had hoped it would be after high school, but I guess everyone just came to their senses sooner than you thought, Dash .”

Dash lashed out, as he always did when he was afraid. He was expecting the satisfying crunch of his fist against Fenton’s nose. But his fist went right through Fenton’s grinning face. The smaller teen stepped to the side. He reached up and gently grabbed Dash’s wrist. Dash tried to rip it away, but found that Fenton’s hold was stronger than iron. He grunted as he yanked his arm, but Fenton didn’t budge.

“The only thing really good about you is all this strength, isn’t it?” Fenton asked, a cruel excitement in his eyes. “But that won’t last, will it?”

Like the rippling of wind on grain, the skin around Dash’s wrist began to change. Tanned and smooth skin became translucent and liver spotted. Chiseled muscle seemed to deflate and loose skin hung from the bone in a wrinkly mass. The effect flowed up from his wrist to his elbow, as Dash screamed in horror. He once more tried to pull away from Fenton, this time with success as he fell and sprawled on his back. He sobbed and he tried to crawl backwards away, Fenton giggled down at him with hand still aloft. Dash felt tears overflow, he glanced down at his arm which still held it’s withered appearance.

Fenton took a step forward, and Dash’s eyes were back on him.

“Are you crying, Baxter?” Fenton laughed. “Well, that just screams uncool doesn’t it? Don’t worry. You don’t have to cry for long.”

Fenton took another step closer, and Dash was on his feet. He sprinted away, cradling his arm and screaming for help. Anyone. Help him. Please. Someone save him. But while the school had been full of people before, now there was no one. Dash sprinted around the school building, making his way to the brick storage building. He fumbled with the latch, before ripping open the door. Closing it quickly behind him, he shoved himself as far into the room as he could, leaning up against the cold corner of the brick wall. He tried to muffle his sobs, his hands trembling. He listened hard, waiting. Waiting to see if Fenton would find him. Tears flowed freely as he scrunched up his eyes.

So here he was. Trembling in fear of the kid he usually beat to a pulp, with no explanation for his change in fate. He waited, tense as a bowstring, as he heard Fenton calling his name. Taunting him. Laughing. When the voice came close, he held his breath and bit down on his unwithered hand to try and muffle the noise of his chattering teeth. He heard the latch on the door wiggle, creating an eerie squeak into the silence and Dash swallowed a scream. Dash waited with baited breath to see if the door opened. The clack of the rusted metal latch continued, the door remaining closed. Eventually, the noise stopped, the latch thudding against the wooden door. Dash heard Fenton laugh as he passed by. Footsteps inaudible through the thick brick walls. Dash waited, sure that Fenton would come back to unstick the latch. Sure he would come back to continue whatever sick game he was playing. But he didn’t. Finally, Dash felt safe enough to let out a cautious breath. He clamped his eyes shut, trying to calm his racing heart and block out the reality around him.

“Found you,” A voice whispered in his ear. Dash looked up to see Fenton, inches from his face, half of his body phased through the wall. Dash screamed, nowhere to run as Fenton reached one hand towards him.

“Mr. Baxter! Dash! You’re okay! It wasn’t real!” Mr. Lancer backed away from the screaming football star. Mr. Baxter scooted into the wall, eyes wide as he continued to scream and cover his face. Mr. Lancer glanced at Mr. Fenton and Miss Manson, who stared at their classmate in a mixture of concern and guilt. “One of you two should go and find a phone so I can contact his parents. “

“Right,” Miss Manson agreed. She locked eyes with Mr. Fenton, before rushing back through the haunted house.

Mr. Lancer tried to calm Mr. Baxter down. But the boy just continued to scream incomprehensible nonsense, clutching his arm to his body in such a way that Mr. Lancer was growing concerned that he had hurt himself. Mr. Lancer tried to distract him, tried to get him to get him to focus on something other than whatever it was that was scaring him.

But Dash Baxter would not look away from Danny Fenton.

#Ectober Month 2021 #Ectoberhaunt 2021 #Ectoberhaunt trick #Danny Phantom #Cartoons #My writing #horror #Dash Baxter #I had more trouble on this one than day 1 #Horror is just really new to me

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uglypastels · 4 years

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To the Beat // drummer!Tom 1/2

(a/n) here it is!!! it took about a decade of my life but i think it was worth it also shoutout to @duskholland for hearing out my ideas when i was brainstorming and together with @captainpeggy40 for getting me through my breakdowns while writing. i got it finished!! <3 I really went all out with this fic, so i hope you guys enjoy it!! part 2 will come... sometime this week ;)

word count: 7939 (unnecessary content GALORE)

warning: drinking, swearing, crowded spaces, part 2 contains smut

you can find the band’s setlist here

not all songs are mentioned in the fic but it’s songs that i would really love to see them play haha. if anyone would be interested, i can make a seperate post on how i imagine them playing it (who sings and stuff idk)

Read part 2 here <---> extra headcanons here

With the right stranger, one night can feel like a lifetime.

“Will you please come?” your friend begged you over the phone. “It’s gonna be really fun!”

“You know, you say that a lot, yet I never have as much fun as you promise.” You sat down on your bed, looking out the window as the rain hit every surface outside. It was not exactly the weather you felt like going out in.

“Then that’s on your extremely high expectations, not on me.” She stated, “But pleeease.” She kept on whining, and you knew she wouldn’t stop until you gave in. It always went like this. Always.

“Ugh, fine.” you fell back on the soft mattress, your head only missing the pillow by an inch. “Where is it actually?” There was the question you both dreaded. You, because you knew you wouldn’t like the answer. Her, because she knew you wouldn’t either.

“It’s at Suki’s,” she mumbled, but you could still hear her just fine.

“That’s where you work right- please don’t tell me you’re working tonight?!” you groaned into the phone.

“I am, but I’ll be done around 9.30 I think, so there’s still plenty of time for us to hang out! Besides, you already said yes, and NO TAKE BACKSIES!” she said this all extremely fast and screamed the last two words into your ear. Then, on top of that, hung up as soon as she finished, not giving you even a second to fight back. Not sure what happened, you stared at the black screen of your phone in confusion.

She said the concert started at nine o’clock. Did she really expect you to go to this thing and spend half an hour by yourself? Or did she want you to sit at the bar while she poured drinks for everyone? Either way, none of those options felt appealing. For a solid minute, you contemplated just not going, just… not showing up. Turning off your phone and watching a movie or something at home.

But at the same time, you hadn’t left the house for a long time. And it was Friday night. Why not go out and see some obscure little band. What was their name again? Your friend had mentioned it, but you already forgot. Maybe it was for the better too. That way, you couldn’t look them up beforehand, and if they were shit, you would just find out there and not have another thing to be dreading as you got ready. Or maybe they would be good. Then it would be a pleasant surprise on the spot.

You checked the time. 7:27pm. That gave you about an hour to get ready and then some time to actually get to the bar. Should be doable.

So, you hopped in the shower to get all fresh again. Even if it would all get ruined later on in the night by standing in a sweaty crowd. It’s the effort to look presentable that counts. Then, you picked out an outfit that would be comfortable in the before mentioned crowd. You could never go wrong with the simple jeans and a t-shirt combo.

Looking in the mirror, the thought of Not Going popped up in your mind again. There was nothing really obliging you to go. And the idea of standing there listening to the loud music, whether it was good or not, sounded slightly exhausting.

No, you reminded yourself, it would do you good to leave the house once in a while. Have “fun”. You checked the time once more, 8:14. You had done everything a bit quicker than you expected. The Uber you had arranged for yourself would be there in a few minutes. So, you were stuck in that kind of waiting limbo, sitting on your couch, not sure what to do. Eventually, you put on your shoes and got your keys and were ready to head out.

The drive was quick and thankfully, mostly quiet. It was only a minute or two before you reached your destination that the driver decided to ask you where you were headed.

“Concert,” you said hesitantly. Why did these people always want to know your business? Thankfully, the man didn’t ask much more. And then it was time for you to get out of the car. The drive actually took much less time than you had expected and there was still some time left before the band would start to perform.

Suki’s was a bar downtown, in the basement of some kind of law firm. Their whole thing was that they let new bands and artists play each week so they could get some of the public’s interest going. Make themselves known to the world. It was literally and figuratively, an underground following that it had. Many, but at the same time, nobody knew about it. It was a secret amongst music lovers. Considering the bar wanted to stay its own secret, you never understood the bright neon lights above the entrance, going down the staircase all the way to the actual hall.

The bar itself wasn’t too big. Enough space for a small stage along one wall, a bar on the opposite side, and the rest was space for the crowd to either enjoy or hate the music being played. When you walked in the room was still relatively empty. You saw two guys setting up equipment on stage, you assumed it was the band. Behind them was a black banner with “Winter Solstice” written in scratchy white letters. Between the words, a star that was drawn on in precisely the same rough manner. You had to admit, it was a cool name.

Considering there weren’t many people there yet, you headed for the bar to get yourself a drink before it would be too crowded to even reach the counter. And there stood your friend, behind the bar talking to some guy. They were both laughing at something as you walked up.

“y/n! You came!” you squealed out, “what can I get ya?”

“A beer?” you said it more like a question.

“Coming right up.” And with that, your friend walked off to the tap to pour you your drink. It was more out of reflex when you sat down on the stool, you leaned your head on your hand, but you understood the question from the stranger when he spoke up.

“Not looking forward to it?”

Still with your chin on your knuckles, you turned to face him.

“Huh? Oh no, I mean… she kind of made me come here, but-” you tried not to sound too pessimistic, but the guy saw right through you.

“So, I guess the answer is yes.” He chuckled. Right then, your friend came holding your drink and put it in front of you.

“I’ll put it on your tap.” She was going to join the conversation but right then a group of tonight’s spectators walked up in need of drinks, so she was soon off again.

“I’m not not looking forward to it?” nothing in your voice made it sound like you were sure of yourself, but it was enough for him. You took a sip of your beer, which you could feel helping the situation. While doing that you looked over the brim of the tall glass to look at your conversation partner. Like you, he was drinking a beer himself and considering it was almost empty, he had done that either very fast, or he had been there for a while already.

Next, you took a look at him. From the profile, he looked pretty good. He was wearing a loose tank, showing off his arms. His dark curly hair was held back with a black cap that he wore backwards. What definitely stood out to you was his jawline. It looked like you could cut yourself on it just with the slightest of touches. For everyone’s sake, you quickly turned your gaze over to the extensive liquor collection in front of you. But you could see in the reflection behind the bottles how he was smiling to himself. He definitely saw you stare. This was awkward, and you only got here two minutes ago.

“So, do you know the band?” you asked in the hopes to weed out this weird situation you had created. For some reason, your question made him smile. In that type of way as if you had just mentioned an inside joke. Except you weren’t in on it, so you couldn’t laugh along.

“Yeah, they’re alright.” He shrugged. Then, as if he suddenly remembered something, he shot up straight in his seat. “I’m Tom, by the way.”

“y/n.” Then you remembered how your friend practically screamed out your name when you walked in, “but you already knew that.” Your phone vibrated with a text, so you took it out and immediately saw the time, it was already past nine. You looked over at the stage where the two guys were trying to untangle some chords. Clearly, it wasn’t starting anytime soon.

“What kind of music do they play?” You asked Tom while still looking at the band trying to get ready.

“A bit of everything, I suppose.”

You bit your cheek not to say anything that might come off rude, but he could still read you.

“I guess that wasn’t the right answer?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I just hoped to get something more specific, but as long as they’re good, I’ll enjoy it.” You took another sip of your beer as an excuse to shut up. He must think you’re such a bitch at this point. You saw him glance over your shoulder at the stage and then smile at you.

“I like you.” there was that chuckle of his again, “I’ll see you later, then.” And he got up. You were gonna ask why later? Why couldn’t you hang out now? You didn’t like to admit it, but you enjoyed his company, even though it was only brief and most of the time you spent it making yourself look like a moron. As superficial it made you sound, you simply enjoyed the presents of a good looking guy like him.

You were going to ask him, but he quickly disappeared into the crowd that started to form along the foot of the stage. More and more people were coming and joining in. The two guys from the band had finally untangled their chords and were placing their guitars over their shoulders, and plugged them into the amplifiers. That’s when you noticed that a spot was empty on the stage. The big drum set had no occupant yet.

So, while everyone waited for the drummer to show up, you took this time to look at the other two band members, trying to decide which one was the cuter one.

That turned out to be slightly more difficult of a task, you quickly realised. Though they were both very different, they were both also extremely good looking. There was the blonde, strumming a few simple chords on his guitar to warm up. Even in the dim light, you could see how perfectly chiselled his face was. He was wearing a slightly oversized button-up shirt with about half of the buttons open. The skinny jeans didn’t seem comfortable to you, but he made them work. The rings on his fingers reflected in the lights as he kept on strumming.

The other had a bit more of a playful vibe around him. His curly mop of hair bounced with every move he made. You could hear his loud and contagious laugh all the way from the other side of the room without the need for a microphone. His outfit was something completely different compared to the blonde. It consisted of a baggy t-shirt (that you could read the band logo on), with ripped dungarees that were only attached on one side. He had rolled them up, showing off his bright converse. His bass guitar was currently hanging behind his back as he adjusted the mic stand one last time. There was something familiar about him, though you were sure had never seen him before.

Then finally, a third person joined them. People cheered since it meant that they could finally start playing. You tried to get a good look at him before he hid behind the drum set. Hair was hiding beneath a cap, tank top… wait… was it-

You got up and walked through the audience. There weren’t that many people, so it was reasonably easy to get to the front. Or, almost at the front row, standing right in front of them felt a bit intimidating. Now you could see all three of them much better, and there was no denying it. Your new acquaintance Tom was the drummer. And when you looked over at the curly bassist again, you realised why he looked so familiar. It was not an identical resemblance, but there was enough that made you think they were related somehow.

You watched Tom spin one of his drumsticks in his hand. He had the biggest smile on his face, then he caught your eye and winked. The cheeky bastard knew exactly what he was doing, you were sure of it. He was waiting for your surprised reaction, and you fell for it completely—hook, line and sinker.

The curly one got up to his microphone. “Hey everybody, we’re Winter Solstice,” his voice was much deeper than you had expected. Especially, considering that he actually looked younger than the other two, you noticed. “We thought you’d appreciate some more known songs tonight, so join in whenever.”

Alright, they were gonna do covers. That was not a wrong move at all. A lot of bands want to show off their own music, but most of the time that leaves the audience just swaying awkwardly because they don’t know the lyrics or what to expect.

“Here’s one you all should know.”

The blonde started playing his guitar, and it only took a second or two before everyone realised what song it was. Mr Brightside. It sounded a bit different, as their attempt to make the song their own, but the riff was unmistakably Mr Brightside. Everyone around you immediately cheered and started to dance along, waiting to sing the lyrics. You were too, of course, but all you could think about was Tom playing in the back. He looked so focused, but still didn’t let it sit in the way of enjoying the song.

In the song, the drums probably only started a beat before the lyrics, so you missed out on the first few words, but quickly you were singing too.

“But she’s touching his chest now, he takes off her dress now. Let me gooo,” the blonde guitarist sang. His voice wasn’t perfect, it was rough, some might have called it cursive, but in that right sort of way. It fit well with the rest of the band and how they played. In just a minute, they had gotten the entire room hyped up. Everyone was into it. Maybe it was because of the song choice, but you doubted it. A song like that can be tricky to sing to a new crowd. If you screwed it up, they’d hate you forever.

That was definitely not the case here, they had the crowd in the palms of their hands. With each beat, you were pulled in…or, was that just you?

The second verse started, and it was the bassist that began to sing: “I'm coming out of my cage, and I've been doing just fine-” There was no clear description of his voice. At least you couldn’t really pinpoint it. There was definitely that playfulness in it that he had been showing through everything he did. He couldn’t stay still, jumping in place, making his curls bump up and down as he went.

“It was only a kiss”

It was Tom that said the little interjection in the song. You had only looked his way at the end, while the other was already singing, but you felt as if he had been looking at you directly. No, he wasn’t. Why would he? You shook the thought off and continued enjoying the performance of the three men. You sang along just like everyone else.

And then the song ended. It was almost unbelievable that it had only been one song that they played, but they moved on to the next quickly.

The guitar faded out but came straight back, accompanied by a heavy bass line. Some people around you recognised the melody, but it took you a moment or two. Then it went quiet. The blonde leaned into his microphone, whispering the words.

“I’m the invisible man,” guitar riff “I’m the invisible man,” guitar, “Incredible how you can- see right through me!” His voice got louder as Tom joined in with the drums. Then those few seconds of bass followed which actually sent shivers up your spine. To put it simply, you were a sucker for good bass and beat. But what was it about them that sounded so good? You couldn’t think of anything particular that would have set them apart from all the other artists you had seen perform in the club through the years…

Still, seeing them have so much fun on stage, it was truly intoxicating, you wanted to join them. You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen someone jump around on that little stage while playing bass. You couldn’t wait to find out what their names were, but for now, “the curly bassist” didn’t take a second to stand still. The only time he stood in one spot was when he had to sing, and even then he moved around a lot.

The others didn’t have that same luxury. Of course, Tom did not have a lot of options, sitting behind his drum set. Yet still, he managed to light up the stage with his bright smile and the passion he put into his drumming. Any time you looked at him, you didn’t want to look away- which was hard, considering that the other two were also a great joy to watch.

The blonde, in his turn, stayed on his side of the stage, being somewhat stuck with his microphone since he had the most vocals. But he still had a great connection with the audience, you felt like.

Before you knew it, the second song had also come to an end. Cheers and applause erupted in front of the band, with you contributing to it as well, of course.

“Thank you, thank you,” the bassist took a little bow. Even though they weren’t playing any song, he still slapped one of the strings mindlessly. “Like I said, we’re Winter Solstice. My name’s Harry.” He introduced himself. Finally, you could call him something else than the curly bassist. Even though it was a very catchy nickname, you thought yourself.

“Here on the guitar,” Harry pointed out, “Is my good friend Harrison.” Harrison waved to the crowd, receiving screams from the audience as if it was filled with banshees.

“In the back,” Tom immediately started a soft drum roll, but Harry didn’t wait that long, “that’s Tom.” Tom reacted with a face that could only be described as “bruh”, making several people around you laugh. You wondered if it was rehearsed or if this was just how they were. Either way, it was cute.

Harry talked some more about how they were excited to play tonight, but you were looking at Tom. You watched him grab a water bottle and drink half of it in almost one chug. When he pulled it away from his mouth, you saw that he caught you staring. Even though you were between dozens of people, even though the light that was shining in his face- he saw you. And he winked again. In the next moment, you had to think if the heat burning through your body was an effect of that little gesture or because of how warm it was in the room. For your own sake, you went with the second option.

“Alright, here’s another song for you all,” it was a voice you hadn’t heard speak before. Harrison. “Here’s: You Oughta Know.” There was a mixed reaction from the audience, including you. Of course, you knew the Alanis Morisette song, but you had never heard it be played by men. It was definitely an interesting choice for them to play, especially after the Killers and Queen.

“I want you to know that I am happy for you,” it was Tom that started singing, as he drummed softly. You tried to control your thoughts as he kept on singing. Then the pre-chorus began, and you were shocked at how well they harmonised.

“Cause the love that you gave that we made wasn't able to make it enough for you to be open wide.” It actually gave you chills. How were you so excited about listening to three strangers sing?

At the chorus itself, everyone in the room went wild, singing along loudly. It was clear that the people were sold on this new version of the song. It was all fine. You were enjoying the show. It was actually fun. And then, Tom sang the next line-

“It was a slap in the face. How quickly I was replaced. And are you thinking of me when you fuck her?” It sure was a slap in the face. You had to remind yourself that it was just the lyrics of the song. And he was just a guy on stage that you had only exchanged a few words with prior. Yet, you couldn’t focus on anything from that moment on. You could barely comprehend their version of “Are You Gonna Be My Girl”, not even really understanding that they were playing a different song. It was just a big blur. But maybe it was for the better, because could you really cope with Tom singing the titular phrase of the song in that husky way that he did... debatable.

When you woke up from your daze, Tom had stood up to show the crowd the beat to clap to. You joined in before anyone noticed how far out of it you indeed were. Harrison finished the song off with a falsetto and then it was already time for the next song.

This time you knew what to do. You wanted to record at least some part of the show. And when harry started a bass solo, you made sure to get at least a bit of it and continued filming from there, ready to post it on your Instagram later on. Harrison joined in with the guitar, and you actually had no idea what song they were playing. More people didn’t seem to recognise the song immediately, which visibly amused the musicians. They couldn’t hide their grins even behind the microphones. Once again, the harmonies… how did they sound so good?

As the song continued, the more sure you were that you had heard it before, but it must have been very different from the original. No, actually… How did you not recognise Dua Lipa? It was not hard to forget about the original when you got to listen to this version. How had each song so far been this good, you still didn’t understand. You didn’t want it to end.

But unfortunately, right after that, they took another break from singing.

“Alright!” Harrison cheered (more squeals from his side of the audience followed. Apparently he had started to gain quite the following). “The next song is another classic, I like to think.” People whooed. “So we’d like some help from you guys if that’s okay.” The crowd seemed to be into it, so Tom followed with the instructions.

“Okay, so we’re gonna start playing in a sec, and Harry will sing a little melody. Just copy that, and we’ll be on our way.” In the meantime, Harry had gone off stage to grab a bottle of water, so everyone had to wait for a second. This gave Tom the opportunity to freestyle on his drum set. It was a simple beat, but it progressed into a more complex set. He, however, did it effortlessly.

Finally, Harry came back running, he threw bottles to the other two, which they both caught without a problem. Tom started to press the bass drum steadily, layering more on top of it. Then Harry joined with the bass, and ultimately, Harrison’s guitar finished it off. Harry leaned into the microphone.

“Ooooo-ooo-oo-oo, ooooo-ooo-oo-oo, oooo-oo-oo,” he almost whistled, but not quite. He continued a few times, together with Tom and Harrison until everyone in the room was singing along. Then made that kind of gesture to show you had to stop. Harrison sang the verse. Anytime it was your turn, you’d just follow Harry.

You had been to many concerts, but not many new bands had much luck in getting a full crowd to participate in the song. But by the way they played, everyone just wished they could be in the band, playing along with them. Even if it was just dangling the triangle. You, however, didn’t want that, necessarily. You assumed that it was the fact that you hadn’t been out of the house in so long, that now that you had the chance, everything felt hundred times more great. So a concert that was already amazing, suddenly felt like a euphoric, once in a lifetime, experience… though that might go a bit too far. And it for sure helped that all three band members were hot. Like, really really hot.

Literally, too, the room was getting really warm at this point, and the guys were visibly hot also. It didn’t stop them from performing at 110% though. A few songs more passed by and Harry was still jumping around the stage. Harrison sang every note perfectly as he slew that guitar of his and Tom…

You could barely look at Tom. Playing the drums as hectically (in the good sense) as he did, you thought he would be exhausted by now. But he still had that big perfect smile on his face. The sweat was dripping down his arms, but it just highlighted his biceps, making it very hard for you to concentrate on the music. And then, no matter what he was doing, he would find you in the crowd and smirk or wink, making you even more flustered than you were before. The first time, you thought he was doing it to someone else. But then it happened again, and again. And the beat of drums led your heart. You could feel it in your throat as it kept pumping with the loud music.

It was during their little break which they used to goof around and play the intro of “Chelsea Dagger”, that you decided to go back to the bar. Your friend had said she wouldn’t leave you alone for the entirety of the concert, but you were already quite some songs in and there was still no sign of her. And you quickly realised why that was. Since the show had started, the entire room had filled up with people. You had never seen it be so crowded, in fact. And then the bar was packed with people asking for their drinks.

Your friend was indeed there, with another bartender, doing her best to pour the drinks quickly. But more and more people got thirsty, so it was easy to assume you would have to spend the rest of the night alone as well.

By that time, the band started on the next song of their setlist, and you really thought they were playing one big joke on you. Or at least this Tom guy was. As he loudly sang Sex on Fire, by Kings of Leon, you decided to sit this one song out from the front row and stay back, near the bar. It actually did you well, because it was much less hot than upfront. You could just stay there for the rest of the show. They had been through around ten songs already, so they must be done soon, either way, you thought.

And you were right. Ending with Come Together, the applause was bigger than through the entire night. The boys finished with extended solo’s of their respective instruments and a bow, and it was really over. Harry came up to the microphone one last time as the other two were already getting off stage.

“Thank you! We are Winter Solstice! Buy our merch at the door! GOODNIGHT!”

The idea of buying a t-shirt was pretty fun. And apparently, you weren’t the only one who thought that. Far from it, actually, The line at the little merch booth quickly exceeded the length of the small concert hall. You wondered if they even had enough things to sell. Would it even be worth it to stand in line? You just waited for the stream of new fans to cool down.

Eventually, it did. Slowly, but surely, the line got shorter. You also noticed that there were a few people that had the exact same idea as you had, so you joined the queue before the rest could. You didn’t even have to wait that long. Before you knew it, you were standing at the little table. There were piles of t-shirts and cd’s, and there were more boxes behind the table too. They really came prepared. Harrison had just been folding up an empty box when you walked up.

“Hi. Can I get a (your size)” you asked, already pulling out your card to pay, “and a CD?”

“Yeah, of course,” Harry grabbed a shirt for you with a smile. Tom had been talking to the girl that had been in line in front of you, but he quickly turned to look at you when he heard your voice.

“y/n!” He finished the conversation with the other girl before moving over to join his bandmate.

“Hey,” you wish it hadn’t been so, but a lot changed since the first time you spoke to him, let it only have been about an hour. There was something about him being in the band you just watched perform and buying his merch, that made you feel like a little school girl standing next to him.

“I thought you had left.” He noticed you leave? Not the point.

“No, I just went to the back. It was getting a bit hot for me upfront.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “Did you enjoy the show then?”

“Yes!” you said, a bit too loud, “You guys were great.” You looked at the CD that Harry had just handed you and smiled. “And I was wondering if you could maybe sign this for me?” Out of nowhere, Harrison appeared behind Tom, grabbing the CD from your hands and putting his signature right at the centre of the packaging. Just as quickly as he appeared, he went back to whatever he was doing before. But not without sending you a wink first. What was it with these guys and winking? Not that you really minded it.

Harry took the slightly more polite approach, waiting for you to hand him the CD and he signed it above Harrison’s signature. Then he handed it over, together with the marker, to Tom.

“So, we got ourselves a number one fan, huh?”

“No, I’ll just wait ‘til you guys get famous so I can sell it on the internet and get rich.” That was probably not the response Tom had expected, which you immensely enjoyed. Next to him, Harry erupted in a fit of laughter.

“Haz, did you hear that? She thinks we’ll be famous.” His laugh was even better close up. While Harry and Harrison kept on laughing, you used the moment to speak to Tom, one on one.

“So why didn’t you tell me you were in the band?” you asked.

“What does it matter,” he chuckled.

“You let me ask all those questions about the band, it’s fucking embarrassing, man.” you couldn’t help but laugh yourself.

“Heh, sorry.” he took off his cap to rearrange his hair since some of it had fallen in his eyes through the night. You didn’t know what else to say, so the conversation died down. Then you remembered that there was still a bit of a line behind you of people that wanted to buy the merch as well.

“Let me just pay for these, and I’ll be off.”

“No, it’s fine, on the house,” Tom said. You looked at him with wide eyes.

“Are you sure? It’s really no problem.”

“Yeah, just promise me one thing.”

“What?” You raised an eyebrow, not sure what to expect. You didn’t want to jump onto that wagon too quickly.

“Will you stay? I’d really like to hang out.”

You weren’t sure what to answer at first. You did want to stay and talk to him, but it was getting late, and you had been standing for a long time, and you were kinda gross from how warm it was during the concert… but Tom was really hot. And he asked so nicely.

“Sure.” you gave in. “I’ll hang out with my friend at the bar and let ya get back to-” you pointed around the table to make your point across. He nodded and waved you goodbye as you walked away, clutching on to your newly bought merchandise.

Just like you thought, your friend was indeed still at the bar, cleaning up leftover glasses from the counter. She saw you walk over and you could tell she saw something different in you.

“Look at you beaming, girl! What happened?” she put away the half-dried glass to listen to you.

“Nothing?” you said casually. She saw right through you though, so you just decided to give up the little act. “Tom asked me to wait behind for him.” You bit your lip, expecting to get a lecture from her. But none of that happened. Instead, she squealed out in, what seemed like, excitement.

“Ooh, Tom is such a great guy!”

“You know him?” you asked, surprised.

“Well, he was the one that got their band the gig here, so we talked here and there, mostly planning,” she explained. “And I mean, look at him.” she sighed and her eyes glazed over a bit when she looked in the direction of the merch table. Not sure what else to do, you followed her action and glanced over. Of course, right at that time, Tom decided to look in your direction as well. He smiled and waved lightly, making your cheeks heat up and quickly look away. Your friend, however, waved back enthusiastically.

“So you think it’s safe for me-” what were you even gonna ask her?

“Go have fun, I say. But if anything does happen, remember the codeword?” Her tone changed to a more serious one, which you appreciated. You had agreed ages ago on a codeword to use. In case a date turned for the worst, or generally if something felt off.

“Broccoli, baby. I know.”

“Broccoli.” She held up her hand for a high five, which you gladly accepted.

You chatted for a little bit longer. Every few minutes tho, you’d be sure to glance over your shoulder to see if the merch line was getting any shorter. It didn’t seem like it. There was simply no end to it. You felt yourself getting frustrated. To the point that your friend actually pointed it out, snorting from holding in her laughter.

“He has got you whipped, hasn’t he?” she bumped your shoulder playfully. All you did was roll your eyes. Which, actually, said everything she needed to know. He did, didn’t he? You always had a soft spot for musicians, dated a few. But comparing them to Tom now… it felt like a joke. There was something about this guy that made you want to know more about him. You wanted to see him play and sing again. You wanted- do a lot of things. But you had to get that out of your head. Let the night speak for itself, see where it leads you. If it would be his bedroom… that would be fine. Just fine.

You knew you were crazy for thinking all of this, but a girl can dream, right?

You looked across the room and were glad to see that there were only a few people left. Harry had already started packing everything up that would most likely not be sold that night. You watched the three of them make some small chat with the people walking by, but all your real focus was on Tom and his deep stare right at you. It made your heart beat faster. With his arms across his chest, the muscles seemed even more prominent.

He was suddenly pulled back into the conversation, and it was as if he changed into a different person. All bubbly, none of that- what even was it that he looked at you? You decided to not think about it too much. One does not do well when dwelling about anything.

Finally, the last person bought their shirt, and they were done. Hoping it didn’t make you look too desperate, you didn’t waste a second to walk over to them. Harrison and Tom were helping Harry pack up the rest of the things that were left on the table.

“Hey,” you said awkwardly. Tom almost dropped the stack of shirts he was holding. Again, the attention fell to his arms. You had to force yourself to look up at his face, which didn’t help much either, but it made it easier to think thoughts that would not mean a one-way ticket to Hell.

“Hi! I’m so glad you stayed,” he said after putting those shirts in the box. “I thought we could go grab something to eat. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” He spoke really fast, just showing how excited he was to talk to you again. To be honest, you weren’t necessarily hungry, but going out to eat with Tom didn’t sound too bad.

“Don’t you have to pack up?” You pointed back to the stage that still counted all of their equipment.

“No, we’re playing here tomorrow, again,” Harrison explained.

“Oh, cool.” Was all you said. It was cool, you just didn’t know how to say anything without sounding dumb.

“Well, shall we? There’s a diner on the way to my flat. It has the best burgers.” Tom exclaimed. You ignored the little mention of his apartment and focused on the burgers. He wasn’t suggesting for you to come over to his place. It was just a fact… right?

“Lead the way,” you told him, but before you left, you turned to the other two members of Winter Solstice. “It was nice meeting you guys.” Everyone waved, and so on, and you were off to eat.

It was almost midnight by the time you got there, but the diner Tom had mentioned did advertise as a 24/7. And it held up. When you walked in, you were practically hit in the face with the delicious smell of pie. You sat down in a booth next to the large window and very soon after a waitress walked up.

“What can I get ya?” she asked, flipping her little notebook open.

“I’ll have a cheeseburger and fries, thanks,” Tom asked. Then it was your turn.

“Just large fries for me, thank you.” The waitress wrote it all down, then continued to ask if you wanted anything to drink.

“Ooh, do you have milkshakes?” The woman smiled and nodded. “So a chocolate milkshake then.” You ordered.

“Make it two,” Tom added. Then the waitress went off, Tom leaned on the table toward you, with his hands in front of him. “So, just fries, huh?”

“I’m not super hungry, and I wasn’t going to steal your fries,” you explained, making Tom laugh and shake his head.

“You’re interesting, you know that?”

“I like to think so, yeah,” you answered straightforwardly. It was a pity you had not gotten your drinks yet, or you would have taken a very nonchalant sip. You leaned your chin on your hand, just like you did at the bar before the show. Except for this time, there was a smile hiking up the corners of your mouth. Tom mirrored your position.

“So how did you guys come up with the name?” you had been wondering that ever since you saw that banner hanging on the stage. It was always interesting to find out the thinking process like.

“You gotta ask Harry, he came up with it one day, and we just went along. He’s the more artistic one of the bunch.” Of course he is. Well, that didn’t answer anything then. But another question popped up in your mind.

“Are you guys related?”

Tom smiled at that question. “Yeah, Harry is my younger brother. Harrison has been my best mate ever since I can remember. We’ve always been close and messing around. Then one day we decided to grab some old instruments from the attic and- sorry, I’m probably boring you, aren’t I?” He took off his cap again and ruffled his hair. You thought he would put it back on, but he left it on the table. There was pretty good lighting at Suki’s, but the colourful spotlights were no match to the bright LEDs of the diner.

“I don’t see how you thought that was boring,” you assured him. You truly enjoyed his little story, talking about his friend and brother. You had doubted the choice of going out to eat so late at night with a stranger, but now the reason was apparent. He didn’t want to be strangers-he wanted to get to know you. And you wanted to get to know him.

The waitress came back with two large milkshakes, topped with whipped cream and syrup. She said that the food would be ready in a few more minutes and left you to continue your conversation. You nudged Tom on to go on where he stopped previously.

“So yeah,” he cleared his throat, “we played and thought, hey that doesn’t sound shit, and we practised for a few months and decided some time ago, why not try and play.”

“Was this your first gig?” you asked in disbelief. He shook his head, though.

“We’ve performed a few times, but this was the first one that felt… real, you know. Maybe it was just me, but I felt this great connection with the crowd, and it felt great.” You nodded along with every word, without realising that you had been getting lost in his eyes. He had been looking into yours as he spoke about that connection, and it made you feel that maybe, just maybe, he meant you specifically.

“y/n?” He eventually asked, waking you up. You almost spilt your milkshake from the abrupt movement you made as you tried to sit up.

“What? Sorry.” You held the glass until it didn’t shake.

“I asked if you enjoyed it? The show?”

“Didn’t you ask that already?” Stupid way to answer! “But yeah, I loved it. You were really great- I mean, all of you.” but especially you, you wanted to add on, but that felt like going too far. As you were trying to come up with a normal-sounding answer there, Tom sipped from his milkshake. Something in his eyes told you that he could tell what you wanted to say, and that thought scared you a little bit. All you wanted to do was to give this hot guy a good impression of yourself, was that really that hard?

But he didn’t say anything about it. Just continued the conversation as you hoped he would.

“Well, I’m glad. Honestly, you had scared me a bit back then, when you left,” he admitted. And there were the heart palpitations again, beating faster and faster. You grabbed the cold milkshake because you could feel yourself getting hotter.

“How so?” you choked out.

“Just because I could tell you weren’t exactly looking forward to the show, and then I saw you leave and didn’t come back. I thought you didn’t like us.” Us. He said “us”. Then we did it feel like he just wanted to say “me”?

“I wanted to check up on my friend, and then I realised that it was much colder in the back, so I stayed there.” you explained again, “But why be worried about me, there were plenty of other people enjoying themselves.”

He was about to answer when the waitress walked up with two large plates. She put them on the table with a smile, which you noticed was more directed towards Tom than you. He responded with a tight smile himself, but only shortly, turning back to you quickly to respond to your question.

“No one there was as cute as you.”

“What?” This time you made sure not to make any sudden movements to save your food and drink on the table. Did he really say that? But he didn’t clarify himself, he just smirked, enjoying your flushed expression a little too much. He put a fry in his mouth and still ate it with that smug smirk. You just went and ate some of your own fries, avoiding eye contact with him. You just needed a second to sort your thoughts.

That second lasted a little longer, but at least you had the food to use as an excuse to avoid “awkward silence”.

“So do you play any instruments?” he asked. You looked up to see that he had almost finished his burger. When you saw the dish being brought up, you thanked yourself and any god watching out there that you didn’t choose to order one. It was absolutely massive, meaning you would make a complete mess out of yourself—a sight for no one to see but your tv screen on a lonely night.

“Uh, I can play a few notes on the piano but all very beginner's level.” You dipped a fry in your milkshake.

“Like what?” He seemed genuinely interested.

“Uhm.. the Flintstones theme song, for one. There was more, but I haven’t played in ages, so I doubt I remember anything.”

“Flintstones, huh, nice.” He took the last bite of his burger. Knowing how weird it is to look at someone when they’re eating, you looked out the window for a second. It was dark outside, and the rain had come back, letting all the street lights reflect in the asphalt.

You both finished the remains of your fries and milkshakes while making some more small talk. You got up simultaneously from the booth. Was it over now? You hoped not. You didn’t want to say goodbye.

You grabbed your things while Tom paid for the food. Then you realised he had left his cap on the table so grabbed it too. But your hands were already full, so you decided to just put it on. Backwards, just like he had been wearing it through the evening.

“It looks good on you,” he commented when you met at the door.

“Thanks,” there was the heat up your cheeks again. “And thank you for everything else, I had a really great night.” you were about to take the hat off to give it back, but he stopped you.

“It doesn’t have to end here, darling.”

To be continued...

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed

> please leave a comment or ask with your thoughts. i love reading them and let me know if you want to be tagged in part 2!

>masterlist and link to taglist in bio

tagging:

@definitely-not-black-cat @artemisiaarm @nerdyhockeygirl @miraclesoflove @justasmisunderstoodasloki @thefridgeismybestie @m19friend @creative-happenings @parker-holland-osterfield @fanficparker @fanficscuziranout @peterparkoure @xxtomxo @happywolves81 @captainbuckyy @tra-gicx @qxeen-of-hearts @varshavisuu @kangaroobunny @petersunderoos96 @the-lost-fairy-tale @nerd-domland @sleepybesson @rissa067 @the-queen-procrastinator @scarletteclipze @screeching-student-unknown @tomhollanders2013 @miraclesoflove @playinonaloop @queenoflostspirits @roses-hxlland @hereiamhereigo @sunnydays0803 @averyfosterthoughts @moorehollandplz @beiroviski @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @peterparkerbabyyy @multifandomlover21 @lmaotshollandd @badbitchydecisions @tikapollak @starkeybabie @awesomehritz @madzleigh01 @oh-what a beautiful-parker @taciturnspidey @quaksonhehe @mountainsforwords @harryfobter @peepeeparkerr @viagracex @ethereal-beauty-p @perspectiveparker @slytherin-chaser @worldoftom @moonysoftt @peeterparkr @wazzupmrstark @saintlavrents @peachybloomss @blissfulparker @chloecreatesfictions @fallinfortom @londonspidey @spidey-reids-2003 @hollandcreep

#tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #band!au #drummer!tom holland #smut #tom holland smut #strangers to lovers #au

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guiltysecretpasttime · 3 years

Text

Linzin Week 2021: Day 3 - Stargazing (part 2)

WIP Pre-Canon AU Lin x Tenzin Rating: Eventual M To the Linzin week 2021 organizers: Is it fine to post a WIP - a serialized contribution? Will post it in AO3 as well once completed ✌🏽 Read part 1 here.

Republic City, a couple of months ago

After another one of their shouting matches, Tenzin gripped the edges of the dining table tightly. Lin, at the other side, stood up as well, breathing heavily.

Their arguments were becoming more frequent in the past few weeks. It started with small things in the household and soon escalated to the more Serious Stuff.

To be honest, Tenzin was no longer quite sure what their argument tonight started with. He watched warily the earthbending drinking water in front of him. Whatever they started with, tonight’s fight ended with both accusing the other of not being as committed to their relationship as the other.

Lin put down her glass of water. “We can’t resolve this in one night, can we?” There was resignation on her expression.

Tenzin ran a hand on his face. “No, we can’t.”

“What do we do now?” Lin toyed with the fringes of the tablecloth that his mother had gifted them with as a housewarming present. When they had informed their parents that they will move in together at this quaint apartment at the edge of Republic City, Katara was excited to hear that they were taking their relationship seriously and had immediately turned to sewing them something for the house. “We can’t continue like this.”

He let go of the table, moving backwards to lean on the counter behind him. Tenzin felt tired suddenly. It was as if all the stress from the past weeks dropped on his shoulders.

His father has started to unload more responsibility of the Air Nation to him. Lin, meanwhile, had been promoted recently. Not to mention, the city council had been hounding him to convince his mother to allow a statue to be erected in her honor. Katara hated that.

“Maybe we should -.”

“You’re right.” He interrupted, causing Lin to look up at him. “We can’t go on like this. I agree - we should break up.”

“Break up?” Lin was taken aback. “What are you – that wasn’t what I -.”

Tenzin backpedaled. “That wasn’t what you were going to suggest?”

“No!” Lin worked her mouth, opening and closing. She was at a loss for words. She decided to sit down. “I was going to say take a break, get back to it later, just not…” She gestured her hands to the food on the table. “Now. Let’s have dinner first.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “But, Tenzin, really, be honest – is that what you think? How long have you been thinking… Do you think we should break up?”

---

Lin worried her lip between her teeth, forcing herself to control her feelings as Tenzin, after saying a few choice words, left the house to cool off.

She wanted to swipe her arm on the different dishes on the table. The night started so innocuous; she had gotten home early to prepare a special dinner for them.

Somehow, it had gone sideways quickly. All their previous arguments were unearthed and until they ended up with a mutual agreement. One that, she hoped, would not bite them in the ass.

It was a shame to let the food go to waste.

Even if her appetite had all but vanished, Lin was not one to throw food away. She piled a little bit of everything on her plate and poured herself a glass of wine. She carried the plate and glass outside to their small balcony. She started eating, balancing the plate and glass on the railing, and was drawn to the stars that were visible from their balcony.

Admittedly, it was one of the things that attracted Tenzin and her to renting out this apartment. It was far enough for their privacy, near enough to be accessible to their workplaces and high enough that the city’s artificial light does not obscure the view of the nighttime sky.

The earthbender chewed her food contemplatively. It would be shame to move out, wouldn’t it?

---

City hall

“Good afternoon, Captain! Councilman Tenzin is in his office right now.” Tenzin heard his assistant from the other side before his office doors burst open.

Enter Captain Beifong of RCPD, who strode purposefully in, stopping only when she was right in front of his desk. The doors swung shut behind her.

“Tenzin!” She leaned on the desk and Tenzin could see the vein on her forehead.

“Good afternoon to you too, Captain Beifong.” He played dumb to prolong the inevitable.

“You know why I’m here.” Lin rolled her eyes. “Would you care to tell me why did I just have lunch with your parents and that they, oh, that they were booking a room for the two for us in the next family getaway?”

“Listen Lin – .”

“No, you listen. Why didn’t you tell them we’re done? That we’ve broken up?”

“I can’t, okay? They’re both so pleased for us. I’m looking for a good timing.”

Lin scoffed. “Is there ever a good timing to break up?”

“Well.” Tenzin scratched his beard.

“Don’t – answer that!”

“And I can’t disappoint Dad right now.”

“Of course, that’s the reason. After all that’s exactly why we -.” Lin cleared her throat and Tenzin could see how she visibly tried to control herself. “Well, alright then. As long as we’re on the same page.”

---

Neither one had gone public about it, but it was fairly obvious at their respective workplaces.

Interestingly, no one dared ask about it. It was probably because there were more infinitely important issues that took residence on the news headlines. The Triads were acting up and the construction of the Southern Water Tribe cultural center had finally started. There was also something about Fire Nation colonies in the Earth Kingdom that newly crowned Queen Houting was declaring Earth Kingdom subjects.

The city was preoccupied with other things, his parents were away, and her mother has relinquished her position in both the metalbending academy and the police department.

She had to hand it to Tenzin, now that Lin thought about it – it was a good time to break up.

---

They were practical.

They were responsible.

They were the smart ones.

And yet, Tenzin questioned if they were really intelligent – given their decisions as of late.

He lightly fingered the small bright yellow piece of paper that Lin left on their corkboard. It had been their practice to leave notes as needed; sometimes to leave sweet messages or to let the other know where they would be during the day.

The airbender crumpled the paper in his palm.

Now that they have broken up, the corkboard mainly contained reminders for their bills, a grocery list or a chore schedule.

Tenzin snorted.

Yes, they were real smart, deciding to continue sharing a living space with their ex.

Close quarters, close contact – heck, even one bed (“Not gonna matter, airhead, we’re barely home at the same time anyway.”).

He had been revisiting their decision in the past months.

He started to see the little things that he had taken for granted.

And, what he initially thought was a sense of relief was starting to taste like regret.

Meanwhile, Lin, as he saw it was quite able to adjust to their living arrangements.

She was more subdued at home the earlier part of their break-up. But, resilient as she is, she started to go back to normal.

He kicked off his sandals and padded towards the balcony.

Which building, he wondered at the blinking lights, was she in now?

What was she doing right now?

Or who – his mind added nastily.

The crumpled note in his hand said: “Roommate – I’ll be out late. Don’t wait up.”

Roommate. He almost sneered. That’s what they’ve been reduced to.

TBC

#linzin #linzin fanfic #toccatina wip #linzin2021r18 #lin beifong x tenzin

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estrel · 4 years

Text

Let Me Follow

15x18 coda (again.) dean’s pov, inspired by this post (by @iheardyourprayer) and this one, and also this song; wc: ~1.2k

For most of the time that Michael is there, Dean is barely paying attention.

He lets Sam do the talking, even though a small voice tells him that it’s selfish, that he should be listening, that it wasn’t fair.

He almost laughed.

A lot of things weren’t fair.

So their conversation had faded into the background. Low hums of voices, like they were being careful, like they were trying not to be too loud. Like they were trying to make the room feel empty.

It felt like that anyway.

A distant anger, far back in a corner of Dean’s mind, wanted to throw a fit because of it. He wanted to raise his voice, kick and throw and beat himself up until there was nothing left of him. But there were too many thoughts fogging up the urge, clouding over it and making it indecipherable amongst everything else that echoed in his mind.

You’re the most caring man on earth. I’m destructive, I’m angry, I’m broken. I know how you see yourself, Dean. I’m furious. For love. For you. The most selfless, loving human being. Why now? Why did you have to say it now? I cared about you. Then why did you leave? Something...I can’t have. That’s not true. It’s in just being. You have me. You changed me. You’ve got it backwards. I love you. You have me. Because of you. I’m saved. Goodbye, Dean. Don’t do this. I love you. Not yet. I love you. You have me. I—

“Dean,” Sam says.

He lifts his gaze.

And everyone who knows you sees it.

No one is looking at him. At least, not directly. Michael’s eyes are fixed somewhere around Dean’s knees. Sam tries, glances at his face every so often behind a bowed head and solemn expression. Jack is staring at the table with his eyebrows creased in thought.

“Uh,” Sam clears his throat. “Michael was saying—”

“Yeah,” Dean interrupts. He doesn’t want to hear about their next doomed-to-fail idea. Their next inevitable let down, their next predictable loss.

He looks at Michael, who surprisingly meets his gaze in return. Everything you have ever done...

“Can I talk to you?” Dean asks. He tries to keep his voice flat, tries to stomp down any semblance of feeling from seeping into his tone.

The three of them exchange looks, as if the idea strikes things off balance.

“Why—?” Sam starts.

“Alone.” Dean adds firmly.

Sam looks between him and Michael like it’ll answer his question. There’s silence as they wait for Michael’s call.

I left. Yeah…you did. You didn’t stop me.

“Yes,” Michael says eventually. He uncrosses his arms, and Dean stands from where he’s leaning against the table to lead them out of the map room.

They don’t go far, just a vacant room down the hall, but Dean makes sure the door is shut behind them before turning to face him.

“I’m sorry,” Michael says. Dean steels his face but nods in a gesture of thanks. He doesn’t really mean it.

“Well, Adam was right,” is his hollow response. Since when do we get what we deserve? We don’t. He didn’t.

“You’re going to ask me if there’s a way to get him back.”

Michael says it in a tone that Dean has never heard from him before. It’s careful, calculated, as if he was trying to ease his way into a let down. Dean’s small flicker of hope dies then and there.

“But let me guess,” Dean says, “You can’t.”

He forces himself to watch as Michael shakes his head. He needs to know for certain, he needs to know that he’s done everything he can. Dean turns to leave, a hand on the cold steel door handle.

“It’s not like Purgatory,” Michael explains. “But I…wish I could help you.”

“So do I.” I cared about the whole world because of you.

Dean swallows and closes his eyes. Cas wasn’t the only person they��d lost. There was still everyone else, there was still the rest of the world, even if Dean felt like he’d lost his.

He hadn’t been listening before. Maybe Michael could at least help them.

“Just…help us save the rest of them.”

Dean glances back up at him. Michael's nodding, brushing past him through the door that's now wide open, heading back to where Sam and Jack are.

Dean should follow.

Instead, he heads in the other direction. Down the hall, past the kitchen, intending to go to his room. Maybe...maybe he’ll be able to breathe better there. But honestly, the entire Bunker just fills him with dread. The air isn’t—isn’t the same anymore. Ever since we met...It’s not even oxygen. Ever since I pulled you out of hell...Or at least, Dean thinks that there’s less oxygen than there is carbon dioxide—Knowing you—and it’s—has changed me—getting harder to breathe.

Dean presses a hand against the wall to balance himself, seeing black shapes obscuring the space in front of him. Because you cared. He’s dizzy, mind swarming behind his eyes, so he feels for the nearest door handle with his other hand and pushes it open, stumbling inside an unknown room that he still can’t see yet.

I cared. I cared about you.

Dean shuts the door, some of the blots of black subsiding. He’s breathing heavily, gasping for air—air that there seems to be a shortage of. His chest feels tight, so he’s hunching forward, staring at his legs until he forces himself to stand upright again.

Dean looks around.

He stills.

The bed is made. Sheets folded meticulously, devoid of any wrinkles in the fabric. The pillows, those are smoothed down too. Dean finds himself being pulled towards it, holding his breath the entire time. He can’t breathe this air, he can’t disturb it.

He lets his fingers gently touch the sheets. Presses a palm on the pillow. His eyes trail over to the nightstand.

It’s seemingly empty, nothing on top except for a lamp that’s turned off. Dean pulls open the drawer, and he feels the tug on his heart with the gesture.

There’s a few things inside. A worn bible, one that you’d steal from a grimy motel, twenty dollar bills and all. A few papers, scattered, what looks like grocery receipts and thoughts jotted down on the yellow note paper they used on cases sometimes. Dean moves them around gently, sifting through them, fingertips searching for anything different. He pauses when he sees the corner of something, takes the edge of it and removes it from the rest.

His chest feels tight again. So tight that his body is sitting down on the bed before he can decide if it’s a good idea. He stares, brushes a finger carefully over the surface.

“You didn’t let me stop you,” he says. Breathlessly, with a tremor in his voice that’s straining to hold back what might be a sob.

“I told you—I told you not to. I was—I said I should have stopped you, Cas. So why...”

Cas isn’t looking at him. He’s staring off at something else, hair decorated with the hat Dean had made him wear when they were up in Dodge.

He didn’t know Cas had kept it. I love you. Of course he had.

“Why would you go where I can’t follow?”

tag list (ask to be added/removed):

@castiels-a-winchester ✧ @jellydeans ✧ @writtenmemxries ✧ @cestladean ✧ @randomblabbling ✧ @fluffiestlou ✧ @dreamnovak ✧ @weird-dorky-little-deana ✧ @bloodyhandprint ✧ @hunteriheroicii ✧ @friedchickenangelwings ✧ @galaxycastiel ✧ @destiel67 ✧ @destielle ✧ @dickspeightjrs ✧ @on-a-bender ✧ @organicpurplepants ✧ @casbelieves ✧ @boy-king ✧ @spacegirlstuff ✧ @seffersonjtarship ✧ @winchester-novak ✧ @professorerudite ✧ @squintingg ✧ @holmesemrys ✧ @imnotrevealingmyname ✧ @mishha ✧ @good-things-do-happen-dean ✧ @angxlsgrxce ✧ @casandeans ✧ @castielscrookedtrenchcoat ✧ @destiel-in-its-natural-habitat ✧ @gracelesschoice ✧ @superduckbatrebel

#i know i said i wouldnt write any more #but its haunting me #anyways sorry in advance lmao fuck #rambleoncas writing #spn spoilers #spn 15x18 #15x18 coda #destiel #deancas #supernatural #spn

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emilia3546 · 4 years

Text

Shadowsinger Part 6 - Gwynriel

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

*****

Azriel was still asleep when she opened her eyes, his hair falling over his eyes as his head dropped onto the back of the chair, had he slept there all night? She couldn't think how he actually managed to fall asleep in a chair of all places. He opened his eyes as she sat up,

"Morning, sleepyhead," she laughed, and he yawned,

"Morni-" and yawned again, setting Gwyn laughing again,

"C'mere, you're hair's all messy." She leaned towards him, quickly tiding it up, brushing it backwards through her fingers, not quite registering how still he had gone until she had finished and sat back, "There we go, that's better,"

"Thank you," he said, his voice much lower than usual, still with notes of sleep in it, she had never noticed it before, and she had to force herself to get up normally, and wash her face, without thinking about that voice. She stared into the mirror for a few moments, mentally preparing herself to face him again, "Gwyn, I'm gonna go and get dressed, I'll see you at breakfast."

"Okay," she shouted back, shit. How was the sound of his voice slowly shredding her self-control? It was just the change in his voice, nothing else, it couldn't be anything else she told herself. She was foolish to even consider it.

Apparently, Cassian and Nesta hadn't emerged yet, so it was just Gwyn and Azriel at the dining table that morning, forcing Gwyn to try to control her thoughts, to push any thoughts of him aside and focus on her food. She hated the silence, it felt wrong, unnatural, and she sighed, anything to break the stillness around them. Even that small sound seemed to wake Azriel,

"Gwyn," she looked up, startled, and smiled, "I just wanted to talk to you about what's going on in Illyria." Oh, she'd forgotten to ask Nesta,

"Okay,"

"I don't know how much Nesta's already told you,"

"I haven't had a chance to ask her yet, so very little."

"Okay, well, the bottom line is that there are those among the Illyrians who hate the changes Rhys has been implementing. Banning wing-clipping, and enforcing it, forcing them to train females, and putting systems in place for those who want help, so they can contact us easily, without their families knowing." Gwyn nodded, good, she'd heard about wing-clipping, seen what had happened to Emerie, it was about time it was finally gotten rid of, completely.

"Okay, so, some of them don't like it, then,"

"No, there are some who have been attempting to ignore the laws, and have failed," he added, seeing her worry, "And then there are those who are restless, hating that they fall under Rhys' jurisdiction. They want an independent Illyria, and freedom to treat their females how they wish." Gwyn gasped,

"They wouldn't survive on their own, right? They don't have a unified leader, anyone who wanted would be able to invade easily, and their army is paid by Rhysand, they couldn't afford it otherwise."

"Exactly, that's why the wannabe rebels are a minority, but they are there. I promised you no secrets, it's no good trying to protect you from this. There's nothing that could happen in Velaris though, any potential fighting will be in Illyria."

"You're going to fight?" He'd only come back from another war a year ago, and she couldn't face the thought of him, of any of them, on a battlefield.

"Maybe. Hopefully it won't come to that. Hopefully, the loyal Illyrians will be able to stop a full rebellion before it starts. Most of them do support Rhys' new laws, but the minority are very vocal."

"You need to know who is stirring up violence then. And where, and how many, and how strong they are."

"Y-yeah, exactly, have you been reading about this?"

"No, why?"

"Never mind, it's just, you seem to know exactly what to look for, and at dinner last night, you were paying attention to everyone."

"I was just trying to work out what to talk about, I doubt I'd remember it."

"Oh, really, who was complaining, quietly I might add, about the wine running out?"

"Mor."

"Yeah, and what did Rhys say?"

"That it served her right for drinking all his best wine." Azriel raised an eyebrow,

"And Feyre?"

"Laughed at both of them, and called Rhysand a pretentious prick."

"So you don't remember anything?" Gwyn laughed,

"I don't know."

"You instincts are spot-on. It takes months of training for some of my spies to learn to listen to a room like that," he mused,

"Then train me."

"What?"

"Train me. To be a spy, maybe I can help with Illyria."

"Absolutely not, you've not even trained to fight for that long, I'm not letting you anywhere near rebellious Illyrians."

"That's stupid, Az. Train me to help, or at least to listen, I visit Emerie at Windhaven quite often, so I can at least help you get a picture of what it's like there, if nowhere else. Please, I want to be helpful, I'm done being useless."

"You've never been useless, Gwyn, and I will train you, but only so that you have an extra skill set to defend yourself, not so you can go and spy in Illyria." Gwyn huffed,

"Az. You're being stupid, stop trying to keep me safe, train me, and then let me use those skills."

*****

Gwyn was glaring at him, annoyance glimmering in her eyes, he was being stupid, but some part of him couldn't bear the thought of her in danger. She kept her gaze on him as she finished eating, giving him a chance to think,

"I won't say yes," Gwyn shot him another exasperated look, "But," he continued, "You can be a last resort, only if my usual spies can't get in, or can't find anything, then you can go." She narrowed her eyes, considering, and nodded,

"Perhaps Em has heard something, we should ask her today." Azriel nodded, and quickly tidied up their plates,

"You wanna help set up for training?" He grinned, "Should be fun today," Gwyn sat bolt upright,

"Oh no, no, I know that look, you're going to be mean, is there an obstacle course of something?"

"You'll have to come if you want to find out," he slipped out of the room, chuckling as she swore and scrambled out of her chair to follow him. Gwyn's eyes widened at the sight of the course he and Cassian had secretly set up last night before dinner,

"What is it?" She breathed, pretending to be nervous of it, but Azriel noticed how she was shifting her weight from foot to foot, how her voice raised in pitch slightly, she wasn't scared. She was excited,

"It's sort of an obstacle course, but this one simulates enemies, so Cass and I can both watch you fight, without one of us having to be the opponent. And, as a bonus, the second half is brilliant for silent movement training, which is what we'll work up to if you want lessons from me." Gwyn nodded gleefully, and Azriel chuckled at her excitement, "There's only a few things I need to get set up now, the moving parts and stuff. If you like, you can get the weapons racks out and ready while I do that."

As expected, Gwyn was right at the front of the queue to tackle the course, with Nesta and Emerie right behind her, she was bouncing on her toes, waiting, waiting,

"Go!" Cassian's shout spurred her into action, and she leaped over the wall obscuring the course from her view, immediately ducking the padded bar swinging towards her head. She kept light on her feet as she ducked and weaved between moving obstacles, one wrong step and she'd be sent flying. Gwyn kept her focus on one obstacle at a time, facing one, and moving to the next, she rolled sideways, and leaped onto a wall to avoid the final bar, and it slammed into the wood next to her. She gasped, and glared at Azriel, but he chuckled, it wouldn't have really hurt her if she hadn't moved, just left a bruise perhaps, but the near-miss spurred her on, and she sprinted for the next obstacle, but her undivided focus left her exposed for the first 'enemy' to knock her feet out from underneath her. Gwyn gasped and rolled, and Nesta craned her neck to try to see at the sound, glaring at Cassian, and mouthed something at him,

"She says that if Gwyn's hurt, she'll kill us both," Cassian whispered, and Azriel snorted,

"She can try," Gwyn had rolled forwards, her hands automatically raising into her guard, and she easily blocked the next blow from the padded gloves,

"Wait! Az, how do I win?" She shouted when she ducked past and landed a blow, but barely ducked the backhanded counter-strike,

"You run, Gwyn. Run!" He shouted, "You have to beat the obstacles whilst avoiding your enemies, try not to activate the rest of them," Gwyn shot him a look before taking off, and made it past the next obstacle, before another 'enemy' activated, and she was trapped between the two of them. Azriel deactivated them with a quick command to his shadows before they could hurt her, but she was still stuck,

"Azriel!" She shouted, "Make them move, you idiot!" He didn't respond, and just chuckled at her annoyance, "Azriel!" She snapped again, and he reset the course, offering her a hand over the fence to the training ring, and chuckled when she slapped it aside, climbing over herself,

"Not bad for a first try. But, you've got to be aware of your surroundings a bit more, focus on the obstacle, but be aware of the rest of them, both of those enemies were avoidable, in fact, all of them are. When I tested this yesterday, I didn't set any off, Cass set off a few, but you should be able to avoid all of them. You're smaller than us, more agile, use that to your advantage." Gwyn nodded, and grinned when he marked her place, "Beat that next time."

Nesta came within spitting distance of Gwyn's record, a sprained ankle as she underestimated the distance of a jump sending her sprawling to the floor. She was still leaning against Cassian as he fussed whilst Emerie ran the course, only losing when a wing clipped an obstacle, knocking her off balance. She swore, but scrambled over the fence to join her sisters to watch the other females.

"Make sure you cool off, ladies," Azriel called, "Gwyn, you're with me," he stepped aside to a quiet corner of the ring. "First off, I want you to learn to move silently, it should be easy here, there's no stones to move, or creaky floorboards. Go and stand by the wall, and try to reach me without my hearing you."

"Your shadows-"

"They won't betray you, I honestly think they'd rather betray me than you," Gwyn snorted, "Make sure you place your feet carefully, and move slower than you think you need to." Gwyn nodded and Azriel turned his back, waiting for her footsteps to halt as she reached the wall. Ten meters. That was all she needed to cross. She took a deep breath, and fell silent, but after what must have been only a few steps, she rushed, placing a foot too quickly, and Azriel whirled, "Start again, you rushed, move slowly," Gwyn alerted him quickly three more times, groaning in exasperation each time he sent her back to the start, but gradually she started getting closer, only her excitement getting the better of her. She was one step away from him when she scuffed the ground,

"No!" she hissed when Azriel turned to face her, "I can do it, I can."

"I know you can, don't celebrate too early, that's the only issue." Gwyn sighed, and started again, this time remaining silent until she poked him in the shoulder and let out a whoop of delight, grinning at him, and he laughed. She was shining, and his heart leapt with her, his shadows too, her joy becoming his own, and she practically bounced up to him and beamed up at him. There was just something about her, her mere presence lifted his worries, and let his shadows roam, not constrained, but freed. She didn't chase them off as Elain had, or even Mor, she made them sing. He blinked, and realized he'd been staring, so coughed, and forced himself to look away, "Grab a sword, practice your basic movements silently."

Gwyn picked everything up remarkably quickly, it had only taken her half an hour to reach him, and now she was already adapting that technique to the swordplay, even moving the sword silently through the air. Azriel had begun coaching her through it, but now he too fell silent, just watching her, only occasionally offering pointers, and stopped her when he noticed her swings slowing down, her breathing speeding up,

"Go jog a lap, then stretch off, that's enough for today." Azriel stayed to watch, making sure she cooled off completely before leaving her to bathe and change, he should have reports to read from all his spies by now anyway, and Rhys would want an overview this evening.

*****

Gwyn toweled her hair off, and for the first time since she could remember, she had no work to do, Merrill hadn't sent her any messages, any demands more like, and she didn't feel like just sitting and reading on her own. She grabbed her book off her nightstand, and went to find Nesta, but made a face when she heard suspect noises from her friend's room, turning on her heel and heading back the way she had come. She still didn't want to be alone, so she knocked on Azriel's door, and pushed it open at the grunt from inside,

"Can I sit with you, Nesta is, uh, y'know, and I don't want to be on my own. I won't disturb you," she added, noticing the paperwork on his desk, and he smiled,

"Of course, it's just reports to go through,"

"Anything interesting?"

"No. Not yet, but I've only read through a couple, hopefully someone will have something." Gwyn nodded, and settled into an armchair to read. They fell into a comfortable silence, each reading their own material, at ease in each other's company.

As time wore on, Azriel's brows scrunched together, and he narrowed his eyes, even his shadows seemed agitated as they flitted between the two of them. Gwyn set her book aside, and crossed to his side, gently resting a hand on his shoulder,

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing important," he offered her a small smile, "Don't worry," Gwyn squeezed his shoulder softly,

"Az, what is it? Even if I can't help, let me take some of the burden. I won't pretend to know what your job's like, but please, let me help however I can."

"You are helping, by being here, by being safe, you're helping. I have so many people to worry about," he raised the papers, "I can't easily protect them, but you, and the rest of you here, I can keep you safe here. That burden lessens when you're all here." Gwyn softly cleared a spot on the desk, tiding the unusually messy papers, and sat in front of him,

"Did something go wrong?"

"No, I'm just worried it might, honestly, Gwyn, I'm fine." Gwyn narrowed her eyes disbelievingly but before she had a chance to respond, Azriel pushed his chair backwards, and made for the door, "I need to clear my head a bit, I'll be back in a bit."

"Oh, okay," of course he didn't want her help, she was probably just a nuisance, she couldn't possibly understand the stresses he faced on a daily basis. If he needed help he'd ask Cassian, she should leave him alone. But, even as she allowed him time, something made her feet move, made her climb the stairs to the roof.

The stars were beautiful, shining together, and she relaxed at the familiar sight, counting the stars as she had since she was a little girl. She stopped moving at the sight of another figure sitting on the edge of the roof, hunched over, his knees drawn up to his chest, with his great,beautiful wings drooping behind him. Gwyn made her presence known as she crossed the roof and sat beside him,

"Az," she whispered, and put an arm around his shoulders, "Please. Talk to me." he shook his head, staring into the distance still, even as a wing shifted closer to her, "What's wrong?" He just turned to face her, his beautiful face filled with despair, his eyes, usually so full of life were dimmed, empty. Gwyn moved before she knew what she was doing, cupping his face in her hand, and he leaned into the touch, "What happened?" She breathed,

"Nothing. That's the problem. Nothing. I can't even do my job." He broke off and turned away, but Gwyn turned him back,

"Talk to me."

"Rhys has a meeting with all the Camp Lords tomorrow, it could be the make or break moment for the rebellion. I was supposed to get information, who tries to fight his new laws, who wants to fight back, you know. I have nothing. He's going in blind. It's my fault, I failed him. Again." Tears pricked Gwyn's eyes at the despair in his voice, the self-loathing.

"You didn't fail anyone. You did everything you could."

"I could have gone in myself."

"To Illyria? They'd have clammed up completely at the slightest whiff that you were there. You have to trust your spies, and sometimes they won't find anything, and it isn't your fault."

"I couldn't even get them in to some camps."

"Again, they couldn't get in, not you. They work for you, but something that goes wrong on their end does not mean that you let anyone down. Sometimes things go wrong, and no-one is to blame."

"I can't keep letting him down."

"You don't keep letting him down. You could never let him down."

"I did. I wasn't with him when he went to that meeting. I could have stopped it." Gwyn knew the meeting he was talking about, "There was no-one to sniff his drink, if I had been there, she would never have been able to sink her claws into him." Gwyn just nestled into his side, letting him talk, "Fifty years, Gwyn. I failed to find a way to save him for fifty years! And then when he got back, I got injured at Hybern, I forced Feyre to go back to Spring. I am the reason that he almost lost his mate as soon as he found her. I should have known that the queens were after Feyre's sisters in the first place, but I failed them, too." Gwyn rubbed his shoulder, holding his gaze as he spoke, "I was too slow in the battle, he died because I couldn't help."

"No." Gwyn breathed, “He died to heal the Cauldron, you couldn't have done anything.”

"Yes, I could. I was with Helion, his specialty is spellwork. If I'd gotten him there faster, they could have worked together."

"You got him there fast enough to revive him."

"But without Feyre, we never would have had the chance. I can't risk something happening again, for all I know, they might all attack him at the meeting. He'd be fine, but still, I should know if there's a plan like that." Azriel finally stopped for a breath, his gaze returning a little, actually looking at her, not just seeing.

"Az, you have done everything and more that anyone could possibly expect. Plan for what might happen, with what you have, but we can't use what we don't have, so don't beat yourself up about it. Please." It broke her, seeing him like this, miserable, thinking he didn't deserve everything he had built for himself. She couldn't bear the thought of him suffering, alone, thinking that he'd failed those he loved most. Before she could reconsider, she was singing, singing the only song she knew would help him, his mother's lullaby,

Arrorró mi niño

Arrorró mi sol

Duérmase pedazo

De mi corazón

Cierre los ojitos

Ya se va a dormir

Que el pícaro sueño

No quiere venir.

Azriel's gaze remained on her as she sang, his breathing becoming more regular, until his shadows began to dance. She was still leaning against his side when the song finished, and she started again, tears pricking her eyes when he joined in, no hint of the misery left in his voice, just hope.

"Let's get to bed, it's late," she whispered, and Azriel didn't complain as she led him back to his room, but when she turned to leave, she couldn't. He needed her now. She perched on the bed beside him, setting a pillow against the wall, and sang again, stroking his hair as he drifted off to sleep, his head in her lap.

*****

Azriel actually felt rested for the first time in far too long, his mind clear, focused, and he carefully lifted Gwyn into his arms. She snuggled into him as he carried her back to her own room, leaving her sleeping, safe in her own bed. He left her a note,

Gone with Rhys to the meeting, I'll be back this evening. Thank you.

He stole one last look at Gwyn's sleeping form before slipping away.

#fanfiction #fanfic #acotar #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #Azriel #azriel x gwyn #gwyn #gwyn acosf #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara

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dances-with-kuribohs · 3 years

Text

Trustshipping, 3500 words. This was more of an exercise to explore certain visual features, but I’ve had the image in my head for a while and needed to explore it a little further.

...

The moon had risen, hanging low in the night sky, and the shoreline was sparsely dotted with the lights of the surrounding villas and the faraway town. The tide was just coming in, rushing up to the shore with hungry tongues licking at the sand, and though distant voices could be heard carrying through the air, the sound of the sea overcame those last echoes of other humans. With the half-light from the moon and those lingering lights, Ishizu could still see her own feet as she walked along the edge of the surf, feeling the tugging of the water as it begged for her to join it.

Seto Kaiba walked beside her, and she found it interesting that he walked closer to the shore, further from the water. He was also barefoot, having left his shoes back at the house, but the cuffs of his pants were tightly rolled up to his calves, a tidy mathematical precision executed in clean lines and angles. He’d grown in the years she’d known him: the awkwardness of teenagers had bled out of him in abnormal ways, coming in fits and spurts like a leaking dam, until at last the flow was staunched and he’d reached a level of sustainability within his environment.

She’d liked that about him. Still did, most of the time. Seto Kaiba did not fall apart in ways that destroyed; he fell apart in ways that created.

She regretted that she had not been there to see his greatest transformation. Emerging from his tadpole-like beginnings, finding the full strength of his legs, until he was moving through the world and able to guide it to his own whims. No, not “whims”. It had been her “whim” that had started Battle City. Both she and Seto now moved to greater things, creating the space for themselves among a world that continued to move past them.

She would have been happy to sink into obscurity. Like Rishid, she would live contentedly in the shadows. A footnote in her advisor’s paper; a series of references in a university library. Perhaps she would have died in the same pit where she was raised, among the skeletons of the Tomb Keepers before her. But Malik had not been content with that, and he’d dragged them into the light, exposing them to the harshness of the sun. Seto had gripped her then and refused to let her go, because he was a creature who knew his own strength and didn’t hold tight enough to bruise but knew how to stop her from slipping away.

There were times when she wondered if he regretted it. If he regretted her. She knew that she had not been her father’s first choice for a child; Rishid, too, had chosen Malik over her. She had been alone for so long that it was her natural state of being. This companionship, walking with someone beside her, that was the abnormality. And yet Seto insisted. He’d insisted that she meet him here. Insisted that she, and Rishid, and Malik all come to Greece. Insisted even that his brother join them, so that it could be a true holiday. And she loved them all, she loved her brothers and she loved Seto’s brother and then there was Seto himself.

On the beach in the sand beside the waves, he was merely a tall Japanese man in his early twenties. He would never have met her in the course of normalcy. Their lives would never have intersected. She looked at him, and he didn’t even look like the gods of her childhood. Horus would never have scowled so much, and Set would never have been so underfed. For someone who lived so much in the details of other people’s histories, Ishizu found it difficult to understand Seto, who rejected his own history and seemed to have emerged, fully grown, from the head of Zeus himself. He’d shocked her when he’d declared it during their duel; he still shocked her now, when he refused to listen to her lectures.

He refused to accept that it was fate that had brought them together. She would always concede, in the end, because she couldn’t refute him. He would point out, quite accurately, that he had chosen to pursue her, and she’d simply agreed. She’d pursued him the first time in order to save her brother, then he’d pursued her the second time in order to save her. She resisted this, if only because it meant that yet again she’d not taken charge, she hadn’t claimed what she truly wanted, and yet.

She did want Seto Kaiba, as impossible as he was.

He turned to look at her, catching her stare, and he lifted his chin to speak. “Do I have something on my face?”

Ishizu shook her head. She was dressed as she had been for the day: her skirt fell nearly to her ankles, but her arms were bared by the top she’d chosen, and her hair fell unbound down her back. Seto was every inch the casual businessman, his collared button-up and khakis the most “normal” she’d ever seen him, and the moonlight washed out the color so that he was clad in shades of gray. She did not stop walking, forcing Kaiba to continue alongside her, and she finally decided what she wanted to say.

“You don’t feel like I expected my lover to feel.”

He hadn’t been prepared for that. To his credit, he did not sputter (she much enjoyed it when he did), but he did stare at her, his feet finding their way through the sand. Ishizu adjusted her own path to move deeper into the water, letting her skirt catch the flecks of foam atop the waves.

“What were you expecting?”

She did not answer his question directly, watching her legs disappear into the inky darkness of the water. “I always knew I would choose someone who was not from my homeland. They would be ignorant of my heritage, and could be educated more carefully. There would be fewer assumptions made. I thought I would find someone like myself: someone quiet, who did not take up too much space, someone who would only ask for a portion of my life in exchange for a portion of theirs.”

Seto was quiet, adjusting his feet to step into the waves to follow her. “I thought our arrangement was mutually beneficial.”

“You’ve invited me, and my brothers, to an island home we could never hope to afford on our own. Whatever our arrangement is, your preferential treatment is obvious.”

“The experience doesn’t mean anything if I don’t share it with people.”

She smiled sadly, recognizing that this was not the Seto who had agreed to lead Battle City, not the Seto who had accepted the Tormentor into his deck, not even the Seto who had defeated her in the semi-finals. Even now as he advanced toward her, she stepped back, the water washing up to her knees as she avoided his hand.

“You chose me, Seto. And I will always be grateful for that.”

“Is that enough?”

“The concubine is grateful when the emperor selects her from the harem. I should be happy to be chosen. Millions of women would give anything to be in my place.”

Seto tilted his head, an affectation Ishizu did not fully understand. It was far too primitive for Seto, and yet it was still endearing. “You’re not a concubine.”

Did he find the word distasteful? She noticed he wasn’t arguing the word ‘emperor’. Ishizu lifted her chin, stepping back again to feel her feet sinking into the softer sand. “I suppose I’d like to know what I am, then.”

Seto did not advance. “You’re Ishizu Ishtar.”

Daughter, sister, duelist. But what else? What else? Ishizu took a deep breath, feeling much, much younger than her twenty-four years, and felt the tug of the tide pulling at her legs. She turned, lifting her feet carefully to wade deeper into the water, and she heard the splash of movement as Seto tried to follow.

She had not grown up near an ocean. She had learned to swim over the past week, with suitable encouragement from Malik, but being surrounded by water was still a surreal experience. She waded out to her waist, feeling her skirt billowing around her, and she did not turn back to see if Seto had followed. The waves were stronger, making her unsteady on her feet, and she braced herself as a higher swell came up nearly to her neck.

“Ishizu.” No, Seto Kaiba would not shout now. He would shout atop the blimp, yes, but he would not lower himself to panic. “Ishizu, this isn’t proving anything.”

She would not be in this ocean without Seto Kaiba. She would not be questioning everything, questioning herself, without Seto Kaiba.

She knew what people assumed about them. It was the same assumption she would have made. She knew what Malik assumed, because Malik had asked her directly. He’d tried to be tactful. Does he make you happy? How could she answer, when the answer would take too long?

People would look at her long skirts and conclude that she was a prude, a woman trapped by her upbringing, uneducated and “inexperienced” in the ways of the world. They would not be wrong, but they would not be right. Others would look at her long skirts and assume the opposite, that modesty concealed a raging sexuality, all the stronger for being constrained by archaic cultural standards. They, too, would be neither wrong nor right.

Both of these groups would look at her, standing beside Seto Kaiba, and decide that he was using her for either of those reasons, when the reality was that she had used him first. His decision to pursue her was secondary to that first manipulation, and his refusal to abandon her was something she had not experienced previously.

Another swell shoved at her chest, and she stepped backwards now, closer to the shore. Her entire body was caught in the pull of the tide, that insistent push towards shore. She knew she was being unfair: it was not Seto’s fault that their interactions had an audience. He’d specifically taken them away from Egypt, away from Japan, to a place where they could be alone as often as they wanted.

He was the first man besides Rishid with whom she would have done this willingly.

She turned back, letting the waves crash against her spine, and she shuddered as she felt the fabric of her clothing pulling at her skin. Seto had not advanced deeper than his waist, but he remained a few feet from her, apparently hesitant to come closer. Ishizu watched him, amused by the graying tint of the moon. He could be a statue, carved from stone, and how many lifeless stone faces had she flirted with while still underground? How many stories and personalities had she composed for the shadowed visages worn smooth by sand?

Seto was none of those. He was alive and he was young, of all things, and even so he had seen her story and did not assume anything.

Ishizu reached up to the tie of her top at the back of her neck, tugging at the wet fabric until the threads began to loosen. She could see Seto still watching her, but his expression was partially concealed by shadow, and she wondered how much he could see. Even as she pulled at the fabric, she turned to continue walking, bracing herself for each new wave as it rose to her chest and then fell back. At some point, she finally felt the fabric give, and she pulled at it until she could lift the entire piece off her head and crumple it in one hand.

“Ishizu.”

So he had been paying attention.

“Slow down.”

She stopped, listening more closely now to hear him moving through the water close by. She waited, and waited, but he did not reach out to touch her: he simply stood.

“If you want to walk, fine, but neither of us are dressed for swimming. If the tide gets any stronger, you’ll be dragged under.” His voice was steady and reasonable, and Ishizu squared her shoulders as she turned back to face him.

“If I choose to give in to a wave, does it mean that I’ve conceded, or that I’ve gotten what I wanted?” She mused aloud, able now to see his expression. She was proud that he still met her eyes: she was amused that even his control was not perfect, and there was the slightest flicker as his attention wavered. Her chest was bare, but she was grateful, even elated, that she felt no shame in front of him. “The last thing I want to be is ‘weak’. But by giving in to you, have I lost?”

Seto shook his head. “We could have had this conversation on the shore.”

“You should know me by now, Seto. I rarely do things without the proper setting.”

He smiled at that, the harsh quirk of true amusement. “Are you giving in to me, or yourself?”

“Neither.” She decided, pleased by her own resolution, but the flush of pride was quickly doused by a larger than usual wave, which chose this moment to knock her from her feet.

She did not panic or flail: she fell, yes, but she did not fall far, since Seto was close enough to reach out and grab her arms as she scrambled for a foothold again. His grip was firm, and she felt herself hauled upwards, nearly pulled from the water as Seto took a large step toward the shore. She grabbed onto his forearms, stabilizing herself again, and somehow that loss of confidence made her chuckle to herself.

Though she found her feet, Seto did not release her until they returned to the knee-high water, both of them splashing awkwardly through the water that still tried to tug them under. Finally she could stand freely, but even as Seto pulled his hands away, Ishizu reached up to grab his wrists, keeping them linked.

“Seto, don’t let go.”

She could feel his tension, and she moved one hand from his wrist to his jaw, feeling the strands of wet hair that clung to the skin behind his ear. That movement was enough to encourage him forward, drawing him down, until at last she could tilt her head upwards and meet his lips with her own in a deep, tender kiss.

Ishizu tried to be patient. She was patient by nature. She waited several moments before attempting to move her other hand, guiding his wrist, and she could feel his entire body adjusting as she drew his hand first to the bottom of her ribcage, then gently drew it up further until his fingers brushed the underside of her breast.

It was a relief when he finally escaped her grip: though her hand had guided him there, Seto did respond at last to let his fingers rise higher, adjusting the angle of his wrist so that the full breadth of his palm could cup her gently. Content with his work, Ishizu brought up both hands to cup Seto’s jaw, tugging him closer even as his hand flexed gently. It was fascinating, his own journey of discovery. Ishizu could feel him testing her ever so carefully, rubbing at her skin, drawing his thumb over the curve until it brushed the ridge of her nipple, already sensitive from exposure.

She did not know where his other hand had gone, but this far into the kiss, she did not much care.

She pulled back to let them breathe, but did not break the contact, her lips barely half an inch from his. Part of her claimed that it was better to speak, better to explore these things with words and thoughts rather than sheer sensation, but her mind had gone blank. Seto also hesitated, but within the moment he pushed forward again to resume the kiss, his thumb stroking in a slow circle as Ishizu lifted herself into his hand and welcomed the rush of goosebumps that the movement provoked.

She relaxed her grip without parting from him, letting her arms circle his neck, and even as the waves struck their legs, she was no longer concerned about falling. Seto’s grip was solid and unwavering, though his fingers were still careful in their explorations.

He was not a conqueror. He had not claimed her in battle nor bent her to his will. He had simply offered. And now, she was learning how to take what she wanted in response. She, too, could make demands of Seto Kaiba without her brother’s well-being at stake. She could place his hands in the right locations, step into his embrace, and she would not be betraying either her former self or her current self. She was Ishizu Ishtar. And she had chosen Seto Kaiba.

Though he’d slept in a number of unfamiliar places, the sound of the ocean still kept Malik awake. He’d tried to get to sleep, shifting and adjusting his bed, but he knew that too much movement would just be a problem for him. Malik had therefore adjusted his position and tried to read by the window, in hopes that the wordy prose might lull him to sleep faster than the sound of the waves.

He wasn’t sure what it was that caught his attention: it was not the sound of conversation, since no one spoke. Perhaps it was the movement, or the shadows cast by the moonlight. Whatever it was, Malik looked up in time to see two figures approaching the house, and he stared in some shock to realize who they were.

Seto Kaiba walked more slowly to accommodate his companion, and his pants were still dripping with sea water. More surprising, he was shirtless, exposing his pale skin to the unflattering moonlight. Beside him, Ishizu Ishtar was nearly swallowed by a shirt much too large for her, and Malik squinted to try and determine the details before realizing that she was covering herself with Seto’s dripping shirt. Ishizu’s skirt, too, was leaving a faint trail of drops along the shore, and Malik wondered how they’d both gotten so water-logged.

It wasn’t like Ishizu to be impulsive. Would she really have tried to go swimming this late at night? Or maybe it was Kaiba’s fault. Malik found that easy to believe, though the same problem presented itself. Kaiba was not one to leap into the ocean without good reason. Both of them were logical, reasonable people, more “adult” than Malik believed he ever would be.

Kaiba had given Ishizu his shirt. Clearly it wasn’t for warmth, because the night was balmy enough and the shirt would offer no warmth when it was soaked through. Malik had totally forgotten his book now, staring at the scene in the moonlight, and he tried to make the pieces align.

Obviously Kaiba and Ishizu were ‘together’. Kaiba would not have paid for Rishid and Malik to also come to Greece and stay in this overpriced beach house if Kaiba had not felt something for Ishizu. But when Malik had asked about it, Ishizu had been her usual enigmatic self. She’d couched her explanations in half-measures, never fully explaining, just like she’d always done. Had she been trying to protect Malik from some grotesque truth? Malik wanted to laugh: unlike the terrors of their childhood, the only thing Ishizu could be concealing now would be the tawdry details of her hook-ups. It was so normal that it made him happy.

Considering his sister as a sexually active adult was not Malik’s preferred pastime, but he wasn’t an idiot. Ishizu was beautiful. She also wasn’t a fool, and she did not tolerate fools well. Malik had sometimes wondered who might end up as his sibling-in-law, but that face had always been rather vague and unformed. He had not imagined that it might solidify into Seto Kaiba.

What did Kaiba feel about Ishizu?

Malik shifted, watching as Kaiba and Ishizu stopped at the edge of the porch to exchange some sort of farewell. There were no kisses, no tender embraces or dramatic confessions. Kaiba wasn’t even looking at Ishizu the whole time, stepping onto the mat to wipe the sand from his feet, and Ishizu didn’t seem to mind. Malik wanted to storm out there and demand better: if they liked each other so much, why didn’t they just do something about it? Were they both so coy that they’d dance around it forever? If he did leave this room, however, he’d have to admit he was watching, and Ishizu’s condemnation would be severe and immediate.

Kaiba’s judgement would probably be the same.

With a shudder, Malik realized that they truly were well-suited for one another. Even now, when they faced one another in the moonlight, it wasn’t that they were avoiding a kiss for reasons of modesty. It was simply that there was no need to reiterate what was already there.

Malik could accept having Seto Kaiba as a brother-in-law. He’d been civil on this trip, and he would continue to be civil for as long as Ishizu required it. Still, maybe he’d have to have a conversation with Kaiba about what it meant to be dating into the Ishtar family. In gaining two extra brothers, Kaiba needed to know what to expect.

#trustshipping

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ghostly-cabbage · 4 years

Text

Frigid (Chapter 6)

Genre: Horror, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers

Chapter Rating: T (Language)

Word Count: 6,435

AO3 FFN

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And here Danny thought he was done with getting punishment for the day. He hit the gym floor: hard.

It made his vision go black for a second. Fucking ow. If he got another concussion he was going to be pissed. At this point he was giving the football players a run for their money.

His awareness came back to him in spots at first, dancing across his vision, then all at once. Lucky for him—it was just in time to see Skulker firing another volley of ecto-missiles at him.

Shit.

He curled up and summoned a dome shield. The projectiles exploded on contact one after the other. It deafened the sound for the most part, but he still felt like a fish whose glass bowl was being tapped on. The explosions ceased, green tinted smoke obscuring his sight.

Danny didn’t wait for the dust to settle. He dropped his shield and launched himself straight up at the place he’d last seen Skulker, fist coming into contact with the bottom of Skulker’s chin. The ghost grunted, sailing upward and punching a second hole through the roof of the gym.

Danny cringed as glass, broken light fixtures, and wood fell down. At least it was the weekend. There’d probably be enough time to patch it up. What was a little more property damage on his record, right?

Ugh.

“For once you had great timing,” Danny said to the empty room. His legs melded together into his tail and he listened carefully to his surroundings. “If I didn’t know any better, Skulker, I’d almost think you’re stalking me.” There was a beat, before the sound of a net launching from a gun broke the silence. Danny twisted on instinct, narrowly dodging the net. It whooshed past and stuck to the wall behind him.

Skulker returned to visibility. He floated across from Danny, scowling.

He growled. “Silence, whelp. It’s easier to lure you out when you’re not busy being a prisoner in this human infested place.”

Well, that was half of it at least.

“Aw, so you do care about my schedule. I’m touched.” Danny pressed the palm of his hand over his core. His tail flicked and he crossed his arms. “But you know that shit you just pulled isn’t going to fly.”

“Please, Ghost Child,” Skulker sneered. “I was merely toying with those puny humans. I wasn’t going to harm them.”

“Ever heard of psychological trauma?” Danny dead-panned. He didn’t wait for an answer and fired an ecto-blast straight at Skulker’s chest. It connected with a hollow crack and Skulker let out a shout. He dropped ten feet before catching himself. Danny rushed forward, aiming a kick to the side of his face.

Skulker held up his arm, blocking the blow with the back of his forearm. The force of the kick resounded against the metal with a clang.

Danny pulled back out of close range, noting the sizable dent in Skulker’s arm.

Skulker roared and held up his arm to fire a wrist-ray. Danny strafed to the side, expecting the hot fizzle of an ecto-ray. But nothing happened.

They both paused, Skulker's eyes narrowing. He inspected his dented arm.

“Now look what you’ve done, brat.”

Danny lifted his arms in an exaggerated shrug.

Skulker held his arm out, attempting to fire the ray again. Nothing. The ghost made a frustrated sound.

“Here, maybe this’ll help.” Danny’s breath went icy as he shot a jagged spike of ice at Skulker's arm. He watched with giddy satisfaction as the ice punctured and tore a hole through the metal.

Skulkers arm exploded.

Danny squinted against the flash of green, going intangible to avoid the metal shrapnel. He blinked the inverted spot from his vision. Skulker’s arm was completely gone, leaving nothing but a jagged hole with wires that stuck out, arcing thin forks of electricity. Danny bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He floated on his stomach, steepling his hands underneath his chin.

“Sucks, man. You never wanna overload a jammed ecto-weapon.” He clicked his tongue three times in a row, shaking his head. “You’d think such a great hunter would know that.”

“Of course I knew that!” he snapped. “You’ll pay for this, Ghost Child.”

“Oh no, I’m so terrified,” he said, grin plastered across his face. Man, two days of R&R really did a ghost some good.

“Insolent whelp,” Skulker said. A mechanical arm extended from his back, unleashing a football-length green rocket that headed straight for Danny. It looked like a homing missile.

Danny shot upwards out through the bigger of the two holes. He put on the brakes, and skirted to the side just as the missile zipped up past him. He let energy build in his palm.

The thing about homing missiles was most of them weren’t great with tight turns. The rocket spluttered as it twisted to come straight back down. It made it an easy target.

He fired an ecto-blast. It exploded on contact in a brilliant sphere of green. Danny phased back down through the roof. The explosion shook the lights, making them flicker more, but it’d been far enough up it didn’t cause any other damage.

Danny twisted in mid-air and flew at Skulker. His eyes widened and he turned his defenseless side away from Danny, back-peddling.

He fired an ecto-ray at Skulkers undamaged shoulder. He didn’t pack as much power into it as he could have. He banked, cutting an elliptical circle while holding the ray on target.

“You know, as much as I appreciate the practice, we’ve gotta stop having these here at school.” He didn’t let up on the beam until he’d flanked Skulker. He zipped in while the ghost was still recovering.

He went with the same roundhouse that Skulker had blocked before. His foot slammed into the side of Skulker’s head, sending the hunter spinning sideways. Danny charged a blast in his palm. He lifted up his left hand and squinted his right eye closed, using his thumb to line up his shot. Who said he was only a show off when people were watching?

At the moment Skulker stopped tumbling and righted himself, Danny unleashed his blast. It hissed through the air and Skulker had no hope of dodging it. It slammed into the shoulder joint of Skulker's good arm which, already weakened by Danny’s ray, popped off like the limb of a cheap action figure.

Skulker let out a wordless scream of frustration.

A smug grin worked its way onto Danny’s face. He was getting too damn good at this, if you asked him.

Danny closed the gap between them. He grabbed the holes where Skulker's shoulders should have been and somersaulted forward, flipping the ghost over his head. Danny threw him down, directly into a basketball hoop.

Skulker, of course, being much larger than a basketball, didn’t make it through. Instead, his head wedged into the hoop, his legs churning helplessly in the air.

Danny spluttered. “Oh my God.” He burst into laughter, wrapping his arms around his stomach.

“Oh my God, I wish I had my phone. That worked even better than I thought it would, holy shit.” He dropped a few feet in the air involuntarily.

“Laugh while you can, Ghost Child,” Skulker grunted. He could easily phase out, but he seemed to know when he was defeated.

Danny leaned back, rotating upside down in the air as he laughed. “Of all times that Sam and Tuck aren't here.” He wiped a tear from under his eye. “Hey— Hey, Skulker.” He flew up to Skulker.

He glared at Danny through the net.

“This is what we kids today call getting fucking dunked on.” Danny snorted and descended into more laughter.

“You’re enjoying this far too much, whelp.”

Danny held his sides until the hilarity of the visual started to die down. His breathing evened out and the tickle in his chest faded.

“Hey, the amount of times you’ve trapped me in something awful, I think I deserve this.” He sighed, content, his shoulders sagging as a last chuckle left him. “This is exactly what I needed after detention today.” Danny reached for the thermos on his belt.

“Anyway—” he uncapped the thermos “—same time next week, then?” He pressed the button and the thermos kicked on. He pointed the beam at Skulker, watching as it dragged his warping form into its confines.

The thermos dimmed and Danny twirled it in his palm, blowing the wisps of smoke from its end. He really needed to empty it when he got home today.

“What is that? How’d it do that?”

“Holy F—” Danny jumped. The thermos slipped from his grasp and he fumbled it a few times before he caught it and pulled it back against his chest. He turned towards the voice, shocked to see a familiar face.

Wesley-fucking-Weston.

He was peeking in through a gap of a gym door.

What the fuck?

“Uh... How long have you been standing there?”

And how the hell had Danny let a human sneak up on him? Let alone some gangly asshole who didn’t seem to have an ounce of self-preservation in his whole body?

Wesley hesitated, scanning the gymnasium again. He stepped the rest of the way into the gym.

“Uhm, for a bit?”

“Right… and where’s your friends?” Danny slowly floated backwards.

Why was this dude determined to be up in his business? As afraid as Wesley looked the first day of school, Danny thought he wouldn’t willingly get within a mile of another ghost. Guess he was wrong.

“I ditched them and snuck back into the building,” he said, like it was obvious. “People here at school say you’re a ‘good’ ghost,” he added. Danny’s eyes drifted around the room as he contemplated turning invisible and flying through the roof.

Was he going somewhere with this or…?

“Are you?”

His eyes snapped back down to Wesley.

He cleared his throat.“Uh. I try to be?” Danny was no stranger to students at Casper approaching him after a fight to try and talk or even flirt with him. He shuddered at the amount of times Paulina or even Dash had asked him to hangout or go get something to eat.

But this wasn't like those times. Danny hated to admit he was genuinely intrigued, and even impressed by Wesley’s audacity.

“If you’re unsure enough to be asking, why would you come alone?” He hadn’t meant it to be threatening, but Wesley took half a step back towards the door. He licked his lips.

“Because I have questions about ghosts.”

Danny’s face twisted. He hooked the thermos back on his waist and ran a gloved hand through his hair. “Why ask me? Listen— there’s plenty of people in Amity that know about ghosts. You don’t need to ask a real one.”

Wesley lifted a hand and rubbed at his temple. “Yeah, but all they ever talk about is you. Either how great you are or how you’re secretly a menace to society.”

Huh, he must have talked to Valerie.

“Then what question is important enough you decided to approach a ‘dangerous’ ghost… by yourself?”

“I just—I want to know why ghosts here are so different, and who better to ask than an actual ghost? I guess I figured with how much people drool over you that you were the least likely to kill me. I mean you could’ve on the first day if you’d wanted to… There’s obviously some truth to what people say about you.”

Danny blinked. Okay, that made some sense. But then…

“Why do you want to know that specifically?”

Wesley turned his head. “It’s personal.”

...Alright, sure.

He let out a long suffering sigh.

“Listen, I hate to disappoint, Person-I’ve-Never-Met-Before, but I haven’t really been outside of Amity Park much…” He knew the answer, of course he did, but he didn’t exactly go around as Phantom spouting off his ghost knowledge. There were things about ecto-biology he knew that only a Fenton would know... and some things only a half-ghost would know.

Wesley looked stricken. It was a weird look on him.

“But you’re still a ghost, can’t you just—” he flexed his hands in front of him like he was trying to grasp something— “make an informed guess?”

Ugh, God.

Danny dragged a hand down over his face.

Fine.

“If I tell you what I think, will you actually get the hell outta dodge the next time there’s a fight?” When people tried to stick around, they were more likely to get caught in the cross-fire. While Danny wasn’t exactly fond of the dude, that didn’t mean he wanted Wesley hurt. The thought of him or anyone getting hurt because of him made him twitch; he ignored the spike of nervous energy that thrashed in his core.

Wesley looked up at him, blinking green eyes.

“Wait, that’s it?”

“I’m dead, dude. What else could I want?” He’d love for Wesley to leave him, Fenton him, alone entirely. But he’d take what he could get.

Wesley faltered. “I dunno.” He muttered something else under his breath, something a normal human would have missed: “doesn’t make sense why you’d want that either though.”

Danny shook his head and floated down a bit. “If I had to guess, it’d be because of the portal.”

“Portal?”

“Yeah, the Fenton Ghost Portal?” That at least was common knowledge around Amity now.

Wesley squinted his eyes.

“You haven't heard of it?” Danny asked, exasperated.

“I don’t know! I’m new here!”

“Clearly.”

Wesley made a face like he was about to say something stupid. “Okay, sure, there’s a portal. What’s it have to do with ghosts?”

Holy hell.

Why was he doing this again?

“It’s’a portal directly into the Ghost Zone, dude,” he said incredulously. “Ya’know, The Infinite Realms? Land of the Dead?”

Wesley paled.

“Wait that’s… How’s that possible?”

“How should I know? Do I look like a scientist to you?”

“I mean… Kinda?” He gestured vaguely to Danny’s person.

He looked down. Oh yeah, hazmat suit. Right.

Danny wiggled in place. “Not the point, alright? Are you going to keep interrupting me?”

Wesley made a face. “You’re the one asking me questions!”

Danny waved a hand, flustered. “Okay, okay, shut up.” God, Wesley was so annoying. “Portals open up naturally all over the world, ‘kay? Well, here in Amity there’s a stable portal that stays open, meaning a constant influx of Ectoplasm. Ectoplasm is an energy source.”

“Which means...?”

“I’m getting there.” He twitched his tail. A motion which seemed to confuse Wesley, if his expression was anything to go by.

“Ghosts are made of ectoplasm, and use it for energy blah, blah.” Danny twirled a hand. “What I’m saying is that here, ghosts have almost constant access to the Ghost Zone and Ectoplasm. It means unlimited energy. Ghosts without access to ecto-energy have to try and build up energy from other ambient sources like electronics, peoples emotions, weather, you name it. It takes forever to build up enough to materialize or interact with humans or solid objects. So ghosts in other places are probably less solid, making sightings and interactions fewer and far between.” Danny blew out a breath. “That answer your question?”

Wesley was silent for a second, face wrinkled in thought.

“I guess… That makes sense—but—”

“Cool, glad to help. Well, this has been—something. But I’ve gotta—” Danny started, only to get interrupted when someone burst through the gym door. Wesley jumped, letting out a less than manly yelp.

It was a basketball player with tan skin and broad shoulders. One of the Seniors if Danny remembered right.

“Jesus Christ, dude, there you are! Do you have a death wish or—” the dude stopped short as his eyes landed on Danny. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “P—Phantom!” He had that deer-in-the-headlights look that people gave him.

“Hi.” He held up a hand in greeting. “Anyway, I got the ghost, so…” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m just gonna...”

He went invisible and headed in the direction of the nearest supply closet. He still had to get his stuff before he went home.

“Imma big fan!” the basketball player called after him into the empty air. He smiled and shook his head as he phased through the wall of the gym.

Danny was half-way down the hall from the entrance, human once again with his bag heavy on his shoulder, when the doors flung open and two familiar silhouettes filled the entryway.

Oh no.

“Everyone outta the way! That ghost won’t know what hit it once we—” His dad’s booming voice stopped when he saw him.

“Danny?” his mom called. She pushed past his dad and lowered her ecto-weapon. “Sweetie, what are you doing? Are you okay?” She hurried up to him. The surface of her goggles made it impossible for him to see anything but his own reflection. Her voice was tight and gentle as she grabbed him by the chin, turning his face this-way-and-that to suss out any injury.

Danny silently thanked whatever higher-power might be listening that he didn’t have any bruises on his face. His back was probably another story. He hadn’t stayed in ghost-form long enough to heal it. His backpack hurt everywhere it was in contact with him.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, leaning away and trying to wave her off. Her hand dropped and she gripped him by his shoulder.

“One of your teachers called and said there was a ghost and the alarm wasn’t working.”

“Oh, that’s crazy. Why didn’t it go off?”

Dad came up to stand next to his mom, Fenton Bazooka hefted on his shoulder.

“Don’t know Dann-o, but we intend to find out!”

“Uhm, I heard stuff coming from the gym a bit ago actually.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Sufferin’ spooks! Come on, Mads, before we miss it!” His dad said and took off down the hall.

His mom took a few steps to leave before she turned to him. “We’re going to be having a talk about your detention today, so no going to Sam or Tucker’s, alright?”

He sighed and shoved his left hand in his hoodie pocket. Of course Mrs. Merriweather had called his parents.

“Fine,” he huffed.

“Love you, hun!” And then she was off.

Detention during the first week. His parents must be so proud. He ran his fingers through his hair, digging his fingertips in and messaging his scalp, mussing his hair.

He’d said he’d try harder this year, and he’d meant it. Even though it didn’t feel like it there had been a steady downtick of ghost attacks. Had been since after Pariah Dark and that whole mess. Hell, even the thing with Skulker was more like a game nowadays than it was serious.

But that didn’t mean all ghosts felt the same way. Especially the ones that popped up now and again to “test their skills on the one who’d bested Pariah Dark in combat”. Those were the worst.

Danny pulled his phone from his pocket and opened the group chat.

Dead “Allegedly”: Hey Tuck did u disable the school ghost alarm?

He wasn’t even at the bottom of the Casper steps when a reply chimed in.

Hacker (Derogatory): Nah, man. I wish tho

Emo’s Not Dead: Why?

Dead “Allegedly”: Just wondering, Skulker showed up and the alarm didn’t work or smth

Hacker (Derogatory): huh, maybe he disabled them?

Dead “Allegedly”: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

…

My parents know I got detention so I can’t hangout tonight. Didn’t say anything about games tho, Doomed later?

Emo’s Not Dead: Hell yeah, hope you guys are ready to get owned lmao

Hacker (Derogatory): Bro, do you even have to ask? I’ve been working on a new loadout and not to brag but it’s pretty sick

Danny rolled his eyes and put his phone back in his pocket. The Ghost Assault Vehicle was parked up over the curb and onto the grass in front of the school. Dad must’ve drove. He didn’t really want to walk, he needed to make sure he had enough time to sneak into the lab and flush the thermos.

He walked up to the back of the GAV and pulled the handle. The door unlatched and swung open. Another thing that proved Dad drove. He never remembered to lock the GAV or the Speeder.

Danny hopped in and tugged the door closed behind him. He reached for his core and the icy transformation washed over him. It eased the ache in his back and he breathed out a sigh of relief. He turned invisible and slipped up through the roof. He turned towards home and started flying.

The sun hadn’t set yet, and wouldn't for another hour or so, but the shadows were still long. He could feel the sun’s dull warmth through the material of his jumpsuit. The nights were already getting longer and colder. The wind whisked past him with the type of fall chill that cut straight through sweaters and coats. The streets and cars blurred underneath him and a thought bubbled up from the back of his mind.

He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel cold.

Not in the human way, the “coming in from outside and sinking into soft blankets with a cup of hot cocoa” kind of way. The negative temperatures of the Far Frozen, of space, hadn’t fazed him since his cryo-core settled.

Like a stone settling in his stomach, he wondered what else he’d start to forget about being fully alive as the years went by. He tried to push the thought into the back of his mind.

The amalgamous shape of the Ops Center glinted in the evening light ahead of him. Danny flew around the side of the building and phased through the wall directly into his bedroom. He tossed his bag towards his desk.

He turned human again a few feet above his bed. He let gravity take hold of him, falling onto the mattress. He bounced a bit before sinking into its surface. His back felt better already. He sighed, wondering if he could get away with a nap before dinner.

Maybe. Provided a ghost didn’t show up.

He peeled himself up off the bed and crouched by his bag. He snatched the thermos and headed downstairs.

The portal hummed, the only noise in the otherwise silent lab. His soft-soled sneakers patted quietly over the metal panel floor. Danny uncapped the thermos and flushed its occupants back into the Ghost Zone. He puffed some hair out of his eyes and closed the now empty thermos.

Right. Nap. Suffer through the “you need to try harder young man” talk. Then Doomed. It was their second “weekend” this week. He wanted to try and have some fun. After the shitty start to the week he deserved it. He’d worry about his homework later.

***

Saturday night brought dark roiling storm clouds that blotted out the stars. The wind howled, stripping orange and red leaves off their branches. The air tasted of rain and stray drops peppered the grey pavement beneath him.

Danny flipped up the hood of his hoodie as he skirted the edge of Amity’s Central Park. Just because he was immune to the cold didn’t mean he liked being rained on. He could stay intangible if he wanted but he was way too lazy for that.

He flew a languid loop in the air as he changed directions to head towards the mall. It’d been a quiet patrol, nothing out of the ordinary.

Which, on a night like this, made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. There was a lightning storm building up high in the clouds—which meant more ambient energy. He could feel it the same way he could feel heavy concentrations of ecto-energy. The buzz on his skin, soupy and dense. It tore him in two directions, amped on the energy and nauseous at the feeling of electricity.

Why couldn’t it have been a snow storm?

He tucked his gloved hands into the pocket of his hoodie and meandered over the parking lot, careful to fly below the power lines and telephone poles.

A shiver prickled down his spine and he hiccupped over a cloud of mist. Yep, right on time. He heard distant screams coming from the mall.

He perked up, shooting towards it, the roof of the mall a grey streak. As he got closer he could tell what part of the mall he was headed towards.

Best Buy. Great.

Danny heard glass shatter and a stream of floating electronics burst out through the sides and ceiling windows of the mall, a maniacal cackling laugh from above him.

“Technus,” Danny acknowledged, eyes narrowing. The levitating electronics whisked past him and circled Technus.

“Oh, yes! It is indeed I, Technus!” he cried. His voice grated on Danny’s ears and he pushed his hood back down with a hand.

“What’s up? Mad I wiped the floor with your boyfriend on Friday?” Danny grinned, floating up to be eye level with Technus.

The ghost choked, swallowing his laugh.

“What— I— No! How dare you, Child,” he snapped. The wind whipped past them. “I’m here for my own gain! How dare you insinuate that Skulker and I are anything more than—”

“Huh, I never mentioned Skulker specifically,” Danny said dumbly, tapping a finger against his chin.

“Why you—” Technus lifted a hand and a clump of electronics flew at Danny. He dodged with a laugh.

“Everyone knows, it’s okay,” Danny called. He forced energy into his hand, flinging a few blasts at Technus.

The other ghost ducked under one, blocking the other with a wall of technology. He glared at Danny and pulled the machines towards himself. Like pieces to a puzzle, the tech slotted onto his skin, creating a makeshift canon.

“You know, Child, the capabilities of modern technology grow faster and more powerful by the year.” The cannon whirred, the inside going from black to a glowing green. “Can you guess who that benefits most?” Technus said over the wind. It fired and Danny scrambled to bring up a shield in time.

“You’re fast as ever, child, but we’ll see how well you can stand up to a few more!” He fired, this time the ecto-blast hit harder. Hairline cracks appeared in Danny’s shield.

Uh-oh.

With a whine the cannon shot again. Danny dove straight for the ground just as it shattered his shield. Technus laughed.

Okay, so he needed to avoid getting hit by that, holy shit. Danny glared up at Technus. His mind churred, trying to come up with a way to get an opening to use the thermos. If he could just—

A flash of pink streaked through the sky. It struck Technus in the center of his back and he dropped with a scream onto the roof of the mall. The technology, no longer being controlled, started to rain down.

A red flash and the sound of a jet sled drew Danny’s attention.

Valerie.

She twisted mid-air, the nose of her board pivoting as she drifted to a stop.

“Hey, Red!” he called out to her. She turned her head towards him, the eye panel of her mask reflecting his cold glow.

“Phantom,” she said. It didn’t hold as much of its usual contempt. She must be in a good mood. She also wasn’t shooting at him. He smiled and decided he’d try his luck.

“How about a truce?” He flew towards her.

“Why would I do that when you haven’t told me anything about that new ghost?”

Danny’s shoulders sagged. “I told you already that I don’t know anythinnnnnggg.”

“And I already said I don’t believe you.”

Danny let his legs fade into his tail and he flew an anxious figure-eight.

“Come on, Red! It’s Technus!” He stuck his arms out to gesture down to the ghost. “We hate Technus!”

“Hey! I resent that, Ghost Child!” Technus yelled from where he was picking himself up and dusting himself off.

Danny gestured more insistently.

Valerie crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot on her sled. “Oh yeah, he brings back such great memories.”

Oh. Wait. He shouldn’t have—

“Like that time you almost killed me!” She snapped.

“Red, I’ve told you before that I knew—”

“‘—knew it wasn’t me’ blah blah blah.” She opened and closed her hand in a talking motion. “So you say, Ghost.”

“We can hash it out again later! But can we take care of Technus now please? Because he’s sort of escaping.”

Valerie looked down to see that Technus was, in fact, fleeing, electronics clumping into a massive platform beneath him as he flew away. She sighed.

“Fine, Ghost Boy. Truce.”

“Yes!” Danny peeled off in a blur, Valerie right behind him. Val was a great ally when he could convince her to team up. He hoped she secretly thought the same of him.

Valerie was stubborn and could clearly hold a grudge like no other. But over the years, it felt more like she chased him out of obligation. Like she couldn’t admit she might be wrong about him. So she just did what they’d always done.

Danny didn’t blame her. There was real anger and frustration behind her words when she talked to him, but he’d be stupid not to notice she missed her shots on purpose these days.

Technus turned and fired his arm cannon at them as they caught up. Danny skirted to the left, rolling into a loose corkscrew, flying underneath Technus’s floating pile of technology and popping up on the ghost’s right. He unleashed a ghost-ray at Technus with so much force it carried him off the makeshift platform.

The ghost caught himself in flight with a triumphant cackle. It died in his throat as he looked up.

Valerie was right on top of him. A pink blast of ecto-energy hissed through the raging air and into Technus’ arm cannon. The tech burst into pieces, falling in a black heap to the ground.

“You think that would slow me down, you stupid girl?!” Technus sneered, flying backwards. He sent a ghostly clump of appliances careening into her path. She pulled up at the last second.

“You children just don’t know when to stop meddling in other people's business, do you?”

“Nope,” Danny called as he flew by, firing a barrage of ecto-blasts. Technus brought up a shield that deflected them. “Maybe don’t steal shit and trash the mall every two months and I’ll think about it.”

Valerie came in from the other side, rapid firing with her hand held blaster. Danny flanked him, an ice-ray at the ready. A few shots found their target before Technus moved his shield. He screeched over the wind.

Technus held out a hand and a crackling ball of electricity built up. It snapped and flickered yellowish green. The sky above them heaved.

Technus held out his hand towards Danny and they locked eyes.

Danny came to a dead stop in the air. His core stuttered in his chest. Fear, raw and paralyzing, crashed through him like a freight train. For a second he thought he might black out, fall like a stone from the air. They stared at each other.

He wouldn’t.

Technus knew better.

He couldn’t.

With a stunned blink, Technus moved his hand and released the electrical charge far from Danny. It went wide and collided with the mall sign. The sign exploded like it’d been struck by lightning. Plastic and glass flew through the air, and with a terrible creak the pole swayed before falling into the parking lot like a felled tree. It narrowly missed a car.

Danny let out a shaky breath, trying to still the tremble in his hands. It was raining harder now, pinpricks of cold slicking down his hair.

“Phantom, what’re you doing just floating there? Move!” Valerie said, slowing down just enough to talk before speeding off again.

Right. He needed to snap out of it.

He shook his head and started flying. Technus was still trying to get away with all his stolen tech.

Danny let out a slow breath, trying to hold it steady. He reached for the cold and tried to get a lead on Technus. His hand glowed blue as he shot an ice-ray into the clump of electronics. He let out a yelp and wobbled in the air.

Danny tilted and flew closer to Val.

“Red, keep him distracted, I’ll try and get him in the thermos,” he said, unhooking it from his belt.

“Don’t tell me what to do, ghost,” she growled. “...but fine. You better get him though. I have my own shit to do.”

“Would it kill you to use my name once in a while?”

She pointed her blaster at him.

“Okay! Okay! I get it, sheesh.” He held up a hand and dropped back, letting Valerie move ahead. She went after Technus with no mercy, throwing ghost grenades and raining ecto-blasts down on him.

Technus reassembled his cannon, trying to hold his own. He fired at Valerie but she was nimble, avoiding each one.

“Would you hold still!” Technus snapped, bracing himself against the kick of his ecto-gun.

Danny grinned and went invisible. Having someone to draw the fire was always useful. He circled Technus, sneaking up behind him, uncapping the thermos as he got close.

“Hey, tell Skulker I said hi.” Technus whirled around just in time to see the barrel of the thermos illuminate. His eyes stretched wide and an angry noise was all that escaped him as the thermos pulled him in.

All the technology that Technus had been controlling broke apart and pelted towards the ground.

Shit.

He reached out with his powers, catching as much as he could. He winced at the mental strain. He didn’t use his telekinesis for this magnitude of stuff very often. He needed to practice it more, it was still relatively new after all.

Most, if not all of the technology, was busted, but that didn’t mean he wanted to let it destroy more stuff. He guessed that a refrigerator landing on a car wouldn’t buff out easily.

He maneuvered the electronics towards the curb in front of the Best Buy, setting it all down as gently as he could. He breathed a sigh of relief and wiped rain from his face with a sleeve.

“Nice, thanks for the help, Red.” He shot her a smile.

She holstered her weapon. “You better put that ghost back where it belongs.”

“I always do,” Danny said. “See ya next time?”

Valerie hummed. “We’ll see.” Danny expected her to jet off, but she lingered. “You mean what you said about that new ghost?”

Danny folded his legs underneath him and sat in mid-air.

“Cross my heart hope to die,” he said with a grin.

She groaned.

“But, yeah. I don’t know what her deal is. She didn’t seem very interested in throwing hands with me, that’s for sure.”

Valerie held her chin. “Weird... The last few new ghosts have destroyed half the town trying to get to you.” The last bit of her sentence took on a suspicious tone.

He held up his hands. “Hey, I don��t know either. It’s not like I like getting pounded flat every few months, Red.”

“Why do they want to fight you specifically?”

“I don’t know,” he lied with a shrug. He looked up at the clouds, blinking through the rain. “Could be the whole ‘Protector of Amity Park Thing’.”

Val scoffed. “Oh, please.” Danny could imagine that she was rolling her eyes. “So... what? They want to get you out of here to claim Amity for themselves?”

“Who knows. Probably.”

“Is this where I’m supposed to say how glad I am that we have you instead of one of them?” Her voice was testy, a tone Danny knew well.

“Your words not mine.” He gave her a lopsided smile, forcing down the discomfort worming through his gut. He should leave before she got too worked up. He had one too many scars from when she’d decided a truce was over.

“Well, it’s been nice. But we should get out of this rain. We’ll catch our death out here. Hah!” He pointed finger guns at Valerie.

“Phantom… I’m gonna give you a ten second head start—”

Danny turned tail and flew, a genuine laugh working it’s way up from his chest.

#danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #Phan Phic #danny fenton #Wesley Weston #Skulker #Technus #valerie grey #red huntress #Frigid #My writing #unidentified flying ship #Danny x Wesley #Danny x Wes #Slow burn #enemies to friends to lovers

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itsmeevie01 · 3 years

Text

A Moment in Time- Ch 14

MASTERPOST

OH HI THERE LOOK AT THAT IT'S ALREADY JUNE. HOW COULD THAT HAVE HAPPENED???

yes, I know. I disappeared off the face of the earth. forgive me?

important housekeeping- Orthrus is the name of Cerbrus' brother from Greek Mythology. Asclepius is a snake. and doctor dude. so I pulled on that a lil. ok, on with the chapter!

Chloé had been surprised to see the text from Marinette after her friend had gone off to meet an obscure friend earlier that day. Yet, there, blinking on her phone, was a text from her best friend there was only one word, but it was enough. There, blinking up at her was the word TONIGHT. Marinette really wanted to take Gabriel Agreste down on a school night, right before finals week.

Of course she did.

Fuck.

With one last, woeful glance at her open notes, Chloé called her transformation and flew to the Eiffel tower.

When she got there, the blonde was met with both Apate and Lady Tyche.

There, sitting at their feet, was Asclepius. The snake was leaning back, taking in the night air. His dark eyes glittered behind his mask, and the lyre at his side was almost unnoticeable in the darkness. As Princess Meli landed, Apate and Tyche sent her smiles, while Asclepius nodded. Meli gave a weak smile in response.

“Hey A, did you have to choose right before finals? I have to study!” Apate snorted at her best friend’s indignation.

“Sorry, Meli. I just…we can’t let this flaming bastard ruin our lives anymore. He tried to Akumatize me tonight, and I won’t have it.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Apate winced before turning to face her friend.

“I almost got akumatized. It didn’t go well. I am going to take down Hawkmoth one way or another. It is up to you if you want to join me. It has to be now before he can do any more damage. I for one don’t want to spend one more minute in a city where Hawkmoth rules our lives.” As the two newer heroes listened, the sound of someone landing behind them could be heard.

The group turned to find another miraculous wielder there, his long brown hair held back in a low ponytail, and the dark brown suit barely noticeable against the night sky. “ah, good Orthrus, you made it!” the teen nodded to the vigilante, before giving his fellow miraculous wielders a dramatic bow.

“omg. Really? That’s why you wanted me to dye your hair!” Princess Meli’s squeal was met with a dead-eyed stare by her best friend.

“well, why else, but to be completely unrecognizable.” The familiar voice that drawled from the dog vigilante’s mouth had the others quickly connecting the dots and laughing in recognition of Adrien Agreste, now named Orthrus, the vigilante of Loyalty. He strode over, his steps near silent on the tower beam. “now, what are we going to do about my father, Apate? Lady Tyche?” the two smiled at him, before turning back to the group.

“This is a stealth operation. As you all know, the Moth Miracle stone is one of the more flexible jewels. This means that the only identifying part about it is that it will glow when a strong emotion emerges. This means that we will be splitting up into two groups.” Here, Apate paused. Tyche was obviously well informed about what the operation was going to entail. Meli, while not in the loop, was more familiar with their plans and was obviously connecting the dots. The newest two were looking back and forth in confusion. “Meli, you and Tyche will be pulling the public's attention to yourselves. While you two pretend to fight an Akuma, courtesy of Bunnix, the rest of us will be slipping into the Agreste Mansion. Asclepius, you will be on Mayora duty. Keep her contained and be prepared to use your power, remember, it can only go back 15 minutes. Orthrus and I will try to corner Hawkmoth while he is distracted. It is imperative that Meli and Tyche keep the battle going against Bunnix until we are sure that Hawkmoth and Mayora are out of commission.” Tyche nodded.

“Meli and I will keep people distracted, but we need you to be fast, Apate. That means,” she turned to Orthrus and Asclepius, “you two need to get your plan straightened out before you enter the Agreste mansion. If there is anything that goes wrong you inform Apate immediately. Keep your com lines open. I know that you haven’t had as much practice, but Apate has been doing this for years. Rely on her and watch her back. Most importantly though, everyone goes in, everyone goes out. No one is left behind. And kick Hawkmoth’s ass.” The newer miraculous holders were listening with wider and wider eyes as Lady Tyche laid out her instructions. Apate may be the one with the (little known) reputation of being blunt and violent, but Lady Tyche was obviously used to giving instructions and being obeyed, immediately. As the weight of the situation made itself truly known to the newer section of the team, Bunnix alighted on the tower beam with a wild grin.

“ready when you are, Lady. We should be able to mess around for a few hours before things have to get serious.” Here, Bunnix turned her gaze on Apate. “if you need anything, give a shout.” Apate nodded solemnly at her friend, before turning to her team.

“We move now. once we get in position, Tyche and Bunnix will start the battle.” With one last backward glance, Apate led her team off to the lair of Hawkmoth.

“how long do you think this will take, A?”

“Ty, I wish I could give you an answer. Right now I really just want to get this done so I can sleep.”

“A, as much as I agree with that statement, please don’t rush.”

“I’ll be careful, Ty. I always am.”

“Bullshit.”

“rude.”

“but true.”

“I mean…maybe.” A pause, “ok Tyche, we’re in position in Adrien’s room. Whenever you’re ready.”

“see you on the other side, Apate.”

“Stay safe.”

“you too.”

Tim was expecting a quiet night, curled up on his bed with a book Dick had asked him to read ages ago when the screaming started. He bolted up and flung open his door. With shaking fingers, the teen CEO darted across the great room of the hotel room. As he shoved the balcony doors open, Tim’s eyes widened. There, on the street, were two heroes. They were…flying. They were actually flying? He thought Marinette had given him a basic rundown of the situation here in Paris, but as he watched the two flying girls, Tim Drake knew in his gut that tonight was going to get a lot worse before it got better for them. Edging back along the wall of the balcony, the out of costume vigilante watched with wide eyes as the heroes darted in and out of the fog that was at the center of the screaming.

Apate really hated Gabriel Agreste. As she followed Orthrus through the halls of the manor, Asclepius stayed at her back. When they arrived at the library, Orthrus guided Asclepius to the hidden window that would give him a vantage point t look down on the upcoming battle. “wait.” As Apate halted the group's movement, the two others turned to look at her. “Asclepius, once you see Mayora enter the grotto, only then do you start your entry.” He looked at her in confusion. With a small smile, Apate gestured to the window. “this is your entry point. When you find Mayora, you enter here. Keep her contained, and keep her distracted. Orthrus and I will handle the rest.” When the Snake holder had nodded, Apate smiled. “this is it, I know that you both have worked hard recently to take on these roles. That said, we proceed with the utmost caution. Keep your coms in and keep them on. I want constant communication. I know that this is the long game. We are all in. now we need to make sure that we all leave. Understood?”

“understood.”

“Copy”

“good. Now, we enter silence now. Orthrus and I are going to get in position, Asclepius be careful. Now is not the time to show our hand.”

Lady Tyche hadn’t had this much fun in years. As Bunnix sat in the middle of the column of fog rolling down Parisian streets, Lady Luck giggled slightly at Princess Meli’s look of shock. The rabbit holder had placed fog machines in the vicinity of the Grande Paris Hotel. With their careful plotting, Bunnix and Tyche had made sure that the square would be filled with synthetic fog. As it spread, the few pedestrians on Paris’ streets started to scream. The midnight air took on the feeling that only ever came when there was an Akuma attack. With a shout of glee, Bunnix continued to spin herself around on her motorbike. “are we going to attack?” Meli’s question broke Tyche out her musings. It wasn’t uncommon for the hero to stay back and observe the Akumas, and she had been taking advantage of that up till that point. With a sigh, Tyche tore her gaze away from the fog.

“I guess we have to, don’t we?” Meli giggled at her friend’s reluctance."

“only if you want this to work.” Tyche snorted at the Bee’s sarcasm.

“go ahead and ‘sneak’ over to the other end of the square. Once you get there, I’ll dive in and do a few spins with Bunnix. When I come flying out, wait a few seconds and then go into the exact center. Knowing Bun, that’s exactly where she’ll be.” Meli nodded in understanding and started to make her way across the square.

As Lady Tyche watched the other blonde slip away, she took a deep breath. They needed to stretch this out for as long as they could. Apate needed as much time as she could buy.

Apate and Orthrus were settled against a shadowed part of the wall in the grotto when Gabriel Agreste strode in. the blonde man was clutching at this shirt where he had a purple jewel pined there. “is that?” Orthrus’ question mirrored her own thoughts.

“I…I think so.” Tensing slightly, Apate settled further into her perch. Asclepius’ voice came quietly in her ear.

“Apate, you need to take the stone now. once he is Hawkmoth, Gabriel will have a sword. We don’t want to do more damage than necessary.”

“Ascle-“

“Apate you have to trust me. Please.”

“Are you sure?”

“There is no other way, this has to happen before i can take out Mayora.” Apate sucked in a sharp breath.

“how many times?”

“so far? six. It’s about to be seven if you don’t get a move on. Your window is closing.” Before Asclepius had finished his sentence, Apate has risen.

As she lept to one of the beams above the grotto, Orthrus slunk across the ground until he was behind Gabriel. As Apate started her descent towards the villain, Orthrus sprung up, and incapacitated him. in one single move, Apate, Guardian of the Miracle Box, had reclaimed the Butterfly stone of Transmission.

In her ear a moment later, Apate could hear the sounds of Mayora being taken down by Asclepius.

Lady Tyche and Princess Meli were in their fifth rotation through Bunnix’s merry fog funhouse when Apate’s voice cut through their line. “we have reclaimed both miraculous, and the police have been called. It’s finished. Hawkmoth is gone.”

The three heroes let up a cheer and set about putting the square to rights. Once Bunnix had shut off the fog machines, Lady Tyche looked around and smiled. Lifting into the air, Lady Luck threw her yoyo up and called “Miraculous!” as the Ladybugs flew through the night, things started to turn themselves back to what they had been a mere hour ago. When the square had returned to normal, the two heroes took off into the air. It was time to celebrate. Hawkmoth had been defeated at last.

Poor Tim! i wonder what the poor boy thought of THAT show? (also, i keep imagining Alix dressed in her bunnix suit speeding off into the night with that fog machine going... i bet she had a blast!)

TAGLIST

@moonlitceleste @redscarlet95 @ultimatetornshipper @mochegato @liquid-luck-00 @maskedpainter @trippingovermyfeet @nathleigh @m0chick0furan @susiej1118 @t1dwarrior-of-earth @sassakitty @remy-289 @solangelo252 @corporeal-terrestrial @woe-is-me0 @toodaloo-kangaroo @sizzling-fairy-oil

#a moment in time fic #maribat #Timari #Sibling!jasonette #my writing #ahhhh #chaotic marinette #chaotic mari #Marinette as Black Cat

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