#like I literally would never have heard of mischief and then years later fly all the way to new york to see them live

[marvelyningreen]

Andante

[Peter Maximoff x reader (X-Men: Apocalypse)

Summary: When an injury brings Peter’s superhuman speed to a screeching halt, you figure he could use some company and cheering up.

Warnings: mild language

Notes: could be interpreted as romantic or platonic, if that’s more your speed]

           You hurry in from the rain, pausing just long enough to shake off your umbrella on the doorstep before closing the door behind you. You take a moment to wipe your shoes on the mat in an attempt to keep them from squeaking in the tiled halls of the mansion.

           The floorplan of this rebuilt version is practically identical to the original. The design and decor are much the same, too. Still… You feel a bit like a stranger, or maybe the mansion itself does.

           With everything else that’d happened, you hadn’t really had a chance to process your own experience that day. One second, you were trimming the hedges by the mansion’s front steps. The next, you were a hundred yards away, surrounded by the students and staff, and the mansion was exploding, and suddenly there in your midst was your childhood best friend – Peter Maximoff, all grown up.

           It’s funny how someone you knew for such a short time could’ve made such an impact on you. Really, you and Peter only knew each other for two years. It baffled the teachers how a quiet goody-two-shoes like you could be thick as thieves with resident mischief-maker Peter Maximoff, but you were practically inseparable. Perhaps it was partly due to some truth in the old saying about opposites attracting. But there was more to it than that. You and Peter shared a secret.

           Your sporadic telekinesis had nothing on Peter’s incredible speed, but he never seemed to mind. You were both just so happy to finally have someone who understood, who you didn’t have to hide from. Those two years were some of the best of your life.

           And years passed, and you grew up. You kept your abilities hidden, but you kept the memory of Peter with you. You’d think of him often, hoping that he was doing well, wherever he was. You never expected to see him again.

           Lost in thought, Hank hurries around a corner and nearly bowls you over. You both apologize to each other, laughing, and continue on your respective ways.

           It feels strange being back here after… Well, after everything. Everyone is doing their best to settle back into a routine, but it isn’t quite working yet. Maybe it won’t ever feel the same.

           The students either converse too loudly or are oddly subdued, with very little in between. Scott Summers’ group of close friends is never far from his side, and the faculty likewise seem to hover around the professor. It’s difficult not to dwell on how bad things had gotten, and how much worse everything could’ve been.

           And if it’s difficult for you, you can only imagine how it must be for the person you’re here to see. You pause to knock politely at his door, and the voice that answers sounds oddly terse.

           “You can come in.”

           You slip into the room to find Peter scowling morosely out the window. He’s still laid up in bed, his broken leg in a cast and propped up on a pillow. He’s got a wicked case of bedhead, and there are dark rings under his eyes. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so tired.

           There’s an odd sound you can’t quite place – like the low hum of a fan or the purring of a cat – and you realize that it’s just Peter drumming his fingers restlessly on his nightstand at impossible speeds. He turns his head, and when he sees that it’s you walking through the door, his expression shifts into one of relief.

           “Oh, thank God,” he says, “I thought it was somebody coming to make sure I’m still “resting.” C’mere! Have a seat!”

           You grab a nearby chair and drag it closer to his bedside. You hate to see Peter cooped up and frustrated like this, but it’s good to see him, period. You don’t like to think about what could’ve happened to him in Cairo.

           When you look back up at Peter, his hair is smoothed down neatly. You snort involuntarily. If he's feeling well enough to be vain, it must be a good sign.

           “How are you holding up?” you ask.

           Peter slumps against his stack of pillows and groans dramatically, letting his head fall back.

           “I’m bored out of my mind. Do you know that they’re not letting me walk for a week? A whole week! Something about a risk of my leg not healing right if I move too fast on it. I said I’d walk like a normal person, but they apparently don’t trust me. Can you believe that? Don’t answer that. So I asked them just to drug me, knock me out for the rest of the week so I can get it over with, but they won’t do that either. This blows.”

           It’s hard not to smile, but it’s just so good to hear his voice. And, damn, people say you talk too fast. You’d forgotten that Peter was the true motor-mouth. Maybe he’s where you picked it up from. Though he still looks annoyed, Peter seems a little more relaxed after all that. Apparently he needed someone to vent to.

           He rolls his head to one side to look at you, and his brows furrow. “Hey, are you okay? You look tired.”

           “I look tired?” you say, “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

           “I haven’t, actually, because the mirror’s all the way over there, and I’m stuck in bed. You wouldn’t guess that having to sit alone with your own thoughts would wear you out, but apparently it does.”

           You’d had a feeling that the broken leg isn’t all that’s weighing on his mind. There’s still the whole Magneto business.

           You almost ask him about it, but you think better of it. Peter’s got a lot to mull over on that front. If he wants to talk about it, you’ll be there to listen, but you don’t want to bring it up when he doesn’t have any way to exit the conversation if he needed to. You decide to change the topic slightly.

           “Listen,” you say, “I never got a chance to thank you. You saved my life. You saved so many people. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t turned up at the mansion when you did.”

           Peter ducks his head a bit as he smiles, probably pleased to get a little recognition. There hadn’t been much time for gratitude in the moment. There hadn’t been much time for anything, really. And there certainly hadn’t been time to reconnect.

          You’d chased after Scott and his friends into the wreckage, trying to make sure none of them got hurt, and then things went from bad to worse. Suddenly, you found yourself tagging along with these immensely powerful teenagers on a fly-by-night rescue mission. It’s a good thing you did, too. Who else was gonna fly that getaway plane?

           Your own mutant abilities had never been particularly strong, not in a combat sense. You’d learned to be a pilot in an effort to make yourself useful. You just hadn’t expected it to pay off in a situation like that.

           “What can I say? Right time, right place… Right speed.” Peter’s grin turns rueful as he glances down at his busted leg. “I mean, by all rights, I should be thanking you, too.”

           You’d been trying not to dwell on that whole experience. It makes you feel a little sick to remember seeing that familiar silver streak darting around while Apocalypse was tossed in the air like a ragdoll, and then feeling the hope choked out of you as you heard Peter scream in pain.

           You don’t know how you managed to scramble down out of that second story ruin after Hank and Scott without hurting yourself any worse, but you did. You tried to shake it from your mind – the feeling of shrapnel and energy battering the telekinetic field you’d struggled to maintain around Peter and Mystique.

           You clear your throat, as though that’ll somehow clear out the memory as well. “Yeah… I guess sometimes you don’t know what you’re capable of until it’s literally do-or-die.”

           “I don’t just mean Cairo.” Peter shakes his head. “Well, that, too. But I don’t just mean that. I mean when we were kids. You always had my back.”

           Just before middle school, Peter’s family had moved away. You weren’t quite sure why, but it seemed like something had happened and Peter wouldn’t talk about it. He spent his entire last week in town with you, and on the very last day he hugged you tightly and promised that he’d come back and visit if he could.

           You never heard from him again.

           It was only years later that you’d put the pieces together – the Maximoffs’ sudden move, the well-dressed men turning up at the school and asking strange questions. Peter must’ve gotten caught using his powers, and his mother packed up the whole family and fled to protect him.

          “For weeks, months after we moved away, Mom was so scared. She wouldn’t let me out of the house. She thought that, any second, somebody was gonna show up and… I dunno, take me away, I guess. But I wasn’t worried. I was a cocky little shit, y’know?”

           You snort. “‘Was?’ Pretty sure that part of your personality hasn’t changed.”

           Peter laughs, but it fades quickly.

           “I heard that people came to our old school looking for me. And, hey, they never found me and Mom, so I figured you must’ve covered for me.”

           If there was one thing you were grateful to your younger self for, it was your instinctive distrust of these suspicious strangers.

           “I didn’t tell them anything,” you say, and Peter nods.

           “I knew you wouldn’t. But this one day, something hit me. What if they found out that you were a mutant, too?” Peter shakes his head, biting his lip. “I was terrified. I thought they were gonna find you, and… and I don’t know what I thought they’d do to you.”

           You feel cold all of a sudden. That thought hadn’t occurred to you. You’d been so focused on trying to keep Peter safe that you never once considered that you might be in danger, yourself. All those news articles about what Bolivar Trask had been up to ten years ago come flooding into your mind. You brush them aside and focus on what Peter’s saying now.

           “I wanted to run back there, make sure you were alright; maybe – I don’t know – take you with me and run away so we’d both be safe. I actually bought one of those AM radios, if you can believe it. Every night, I’d use the skip to listen to the news back there. I never heard anything about you, so I had to make myself believe it meant that you were okay. Otherwise I would’ve gone crazy, y’know?”

           He laughs again, but it sounds a little shaky.

           “Yeah, I know,” you say quietly. The air in the room feels sorta heavy now. Damn it, you’d come here to cheer Peter up, and it’s about time you get to it. You change topics with all the grace of a sledgehammer. “Speaking of none of this, I brought you something.”

           Peter immediately perks up. You rummage in your backpack and pull out a box of Nutty Buddy bars.

           “I remember these where your favorite when we were kids. I didn’t know if you still liked them, so I brought some Star Crunch, too. But you don’t have to-”

           Peter seems to blur for a moment, and suddenly both boxes are torn open and several wrappers are arcing their way into the trash can. Peter lets out a satisfied sigh. You might’ve remembered his favorites, but you’d forgotten his habit of absolutely inhaling them.

           “Okay, I guess I shouldn’t have worried,” you say.

           “What else you got in that bag?” Peter asks. “It can’t all be snack cakes. Unless it is…?”

           He’s joking, but you can tell he wouldn’t be disappointed if the answer was yes. You heft your heavily-loaded backpack onto the edge of the bed.

           “I figured you’d be bored, so I brought some books over in case you… What?”

           Peter never had a great poker face. You can tell that he’s definitely trying to smile, but that expression is a pained grimace. He laughs ruefully.

           “I might not be able to walk, but my hands still work. And my eyes. Did you know I can read a whole bookshelf in two hours?”

           “Oh…”

           You hadn’t thought of that. You look down, crestfallen. Of course, if something can be done at speed, that’s how Peter will do it. So that rules out all the other usual time-killers – crosswords or jigsaw puzzles or craft projects.

           But you remember Peter enjoying some things that can’t be sped through – live music being the main one. You start to wonder about the logistics of sneaking Peter out to take him to a concert or a play or something, but that’d be difficult to pull off without the professor catching you. Hmm…

           Peter’s brow furrows for a second, and then his expression brightens.

           “Hey, why don’t you read them to me?”

           You blink in surprise. “What, me?”

           “Yeah, you. Who else?”

           At this prospect, you’re suddenly rethinking everything. For all Peter might call himself a loser, you’d always seen him as infinitely cooler than yourself.

           “I don’t know. These are some of my own books, and I don’t know if you’ll actually like any of them.” You can feel yourself blushing preemptively, certain he’ll judge your taste in literature. “Maybe if I run to the library instead-”

           “No, don’t go!” Peter interrupts. “It’s raining cats and dogs out there, and I’m sick of being alone. Come on, read me your nerd books. Please?”

           He turns those big, pretty, puppy-dog eyes on you, and it’d be almost impossible to say no, even if you wanted to. Which you don’t. You sigh, smiling at him.

           “Alright, you win,” you say, “But you have to at least pick which one.”

           His face brightens into a full thousand-watt grin. “Done!”

           Peter blurs once more as he shuffles through your selection of books. Then suddenly he’s still again, tilting his head as he studies a stout little paperback.

           “Hey, didn’t they make a movie out of this?”

           He tosses it to you and settles back against the pillows, watching you expectantly. You pull up your legs to sit cross-legged on the chair and take a deep breath. Here goes.

           “‘Carl Conrad Coreander – Old Books.’ This inscription could be seen on the glass door of a small shop…”

           You read on, interrupted only by the odd quip or question from Peter. You hardly mind his commentary. You’re just happy that the story seems to be entertaining him. He’s a far cry from the agitated ball of nerves he’d been when you walked in.

           You glance over at the clock and see that two hours have gone by. You wonder if Peter would mind you taking a quick intermission to give your voice a break. But as you turn to ask him, you fall silent.

           Peter’s head is lolled back on the pillows, his eyes closed, his lips parted slightly. His chest rises and falls with deep, even breaths – sound asleep.

           You smile fondly at him. Poor guy. He really must’ve been exhausted.

Telekinetically, you switch off the lamp. The atmosphere in the room softens to the grey light filtering in from the rainy day outside. There. That’s more conducive to sleeping.

           You make note of the page you’d left off on and close the book, picking up your copy of Howl’s Moving Castle instead. Moving as carefully and quietly as you can to keep from waking Peter, you make your way over to a more comfortable spot on the window seat.

           You’d hate for Peter to think you’d run out on him after he fell asleep. You’ll stick around. And if he needs anything when he wakes up, you’ll be here. That’s what old friends are for.

[magicforjournals]

The Green Dress (A Story About Loki)  Chapter 4 : A God’s Lips

RE-UPLOAD - Last upload was missing some parts, my bad!!

Warnings : Explicit (18+)

It’s early in the morning, way earlier than you usually wake up. You barely slept last night; nerves, anticipation, fear even, just twisting your insides and preventing you from getting any kind of rest. You know you’ll eventually have to get up and get ready for work but, you’re just lying in bed, still shell-shocked at the conversation you had with Loki last night.

After receiving his email, you had sat in the shower, letting the hot water hit your skin, for what seemed like hours. Had Loki just asked you on a date? That… That meant he wanted to see you again, he thought of you just as much as you thought of him. He craved your presence just as much as you craved his. You had revelled in the thought of being important to someone like him, a literal god. Finally, you had gathered all of your strength to get out of the shower, grab your phone and sit on your bed to reply to his email. You felt it impersonal to accept an invitation to a date over email and had decided to give him your phone number instead, offering him the option to call you. Within minutes, your phone rang. Heart pounding and hands shaking, you had answered his call. The sound of his soft, deep voice through the phone made you shiver and instantly soak. You wanted him, you needed him. Your conversation, although brief, had been wonderful. You both had agreed that you would be making dinner, and he was to meet you at your apartment at 6 o’clock. You could barely utter a word when he wished you goodnight and sweet dreams before hanging up. You had laid back on your bed, trying to catch your breath. You had just invited a god to have dinner in your home. It wasn’t just any god, it was Loki. Loki who had kissed you with such passion, it had left you weak in the knees for days. Loki who, by only speaking, could make you so incredibly wet. You had slid a hand down your body, imagining it was his hand instead of yours, grabbing your breast, rubbing tight circles on your clit. It didn’t take long for the orgasm to rip, burning hot, through your entire body, making you spasm in pleasure as his sultry voice still rang in your ears, and you had to bite down on your pillow to muffle the loud moan that escaped your lips as you came.

As you lie there thinking about last night, you tell yourself it’s only a couple of hours before you get to see him again. Jumping out of bed, newfound energy bursting through your veins, you get ready in a flash, speeding through breakfast and cleaning up. You call yourself a taxi and get to school way too early, eager to start your day. As promised, your car is waiting for you in the parking lot, however, you see Nat getting out of it as you start walking to the school entrance.

“You’re here early”, she says as she catches up to you, following you inside. There were usually no visitors allowed unless the principal approves it, but since the school is funded by Tony and that Natasha is an Avenger, they never had a problem with her coming in before or after classes. Regardless, she never came during school hours, knowing her presence would be a distraction for the kids.

“Yeah, I could really sleep last night,” you say with a smirk.

“Oh…” She says, intrigued. “Oh, I know that face! What happened?!” She then presses you.

“Well….”, you tease, walking into your classroom. “Loki emailed me last night to ask if we could have dinner tonight.” Nat’s mouth falls open as she hops on your desk, her usual spot to sit.

“Did you say yes?” She asks.

“Yeah, he’s coming over tonight. I’m making him dinner.”

“Holy fuck, you’re joking!” Natasha screams so loud, you have to shush her. “You’re having dinner with Loki Laufeyson TONIGHT.”

“I know, I know. Be careful, he’s the god of mischief,” you say, mimicking her.

“Oh, well yeah obviously! I’ll have my phone with me if there’s any problem, just use the emergency button.” She reminds me. “But I meant you’re having dinner with the man who pinned you against a wall four days ago and kissed you like you’ve never been kissed before. The same man you told me you could not stop thinking about.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, your face turning red.

“Are you excited?”

“I’m nervous! I haven’t been on a first date in almost a year Nat! What if he doesn’t like me anymore in the end? There’s something different about him and it terrifies me. If you think about it, I’m just a simple mortal.” You tell her.

“Please, you’ll be just fine. Loki seems very interested in you.” She reassures you. “And you know, I was thinking last night… Loki has been good for a while now… maybe being with you would really change him. I know I have some preconceived notions about him, but everyone is allowed a second chance. I was, so was Bucky and Bruce too…” She trails off. Talking about him was still a sore subject. Bruce had been missing since Sokovia and it had left a gaping hole in our hearts, especially Nats. Over the years, you had watched their relationship slowly flourish, they were quietly flirting and often seeing each other in secret. He was the first man she ever let get herself get close to, and he cared so deeply about her and was terrified of ever losing her. And when he never came back, and when no one could find the Quinjet, Natasha could barely leave her bed. Getting her back on her feet was one of the hardest things you had ever done.

“Hey,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around her, rubbing her back.

“He’ll come back when he’s ready, just give him time.”

“I know,” she says, hugging you back. “I just miss him.” We all did.

You stay like that, holding each other in silence for a while.

“I should go,” Nat says, hopping off your desk. “You call me tonight if there’s anything, right?” She adds, looking you in the eyes.

“Yeah, of course! How are you getting back?” You ask.

“Sam is picking me up, he’s on his way now,” she replies, checking her phone.

“Say hi for me! I’ll call you later ok?”

“Will do! Keep me posted. Love you, bye!” Nat yells as she walks out. You giggle to yourself, unpacking your stuff and getting ready for the day, Tuesdays are your favorites.

The day flew by so fast, it left you a little dizzy. Your students left a while ago and you were finally done cleaning up the mess of the day. You look down at your jeans and there are some mud stains all over them, the WWII reenactment of the day having left its mark. Nonetheless, your students enjoyed it, and you tell yourself to add the activity to the memory board you have in class. As you glance in its direction, you see that the clock above is showing 3:45, and you panic. You didn’t realize how long you had spent cleaning.

You pack up your things as fast as you can, almost running to your car. You need to get home quickly, Loki is coming over in two hours, and you have to make dinner and get ready. You desperately need a shower after running around outside in the mix of snow and mud all day.

Getting home in record time, you drop your bags by your desk. Running to your bathroom as you throw your hair in a bun, you take the fastest shower you’ve ever taken, scrubbing down as quick as you can. Thank heavens you had washed your hair the night prior. Once you get out, you check your makeup for any touch-ups and add a small line of liner and lip gloss. Shaking your hair out of its bun, you like the way it looks and decide to leave it as is. Still wrapped up in your towel, you make your way to the kitchen to start prepping the food that needs to begin cooking immediately. You get everything else out and organize your kitchen. Again, you thank your lucky star that you’re a neat person and you don’t need to clean your apartment before Loki gets here. With most of the dinner cooking, you head to your bedroom to get dressed. Opting for black lace underwear, you open your closet and sigh loudly. What are you going to wear? Why hadn’t you picked out an outfit this morning? You had all the time in the world to get ready? Grabbing your favorite pair of light jeans, skin-tight and which do wonders for your ass, you start browsing through your shirts to find something… anything. You suddenly hear something bubbling and grab an old band shirt you usually sleep in, slipping that on before running to the kitchen to make sure nothing is burnt to a crisp. You’re not the best cook in the world but you can manage to whip up a couple of great meals. Thankfully, nothing was burning, but there were a lot of dishes to take care of.

You were washing the last bowl when you heard the building’s buzzer ringing. Your head whipped around towards the digital clock on your microwave to see it showing 6 pm on the dot. SHIT! You didn’t see the time fly by, and Loki was already here AND you were not even dressed. Shit, shit, shit, shit… Ok, it’s ok. You walk over to the intercom and buzz him in. A little time goes by and you hear a shy knock against your door, making your heart almost jump out of its cavity with how fast and hard it’s beating. Hand on the door handle, you take a deep breath before opening the door.

There he was, standing in front of you, handsome, beautiful as ever. His dark hair combed back, as it was last time you saw him, his green eyes sparkling with joy, his devastatingly stunning smile. He was there. Right in front of you.

“Hi,” Loki says, his smile widening. “These are for you”, he adds, handing you a bouquet of white and pink lilies.

You gasp. “Oh thank you. How did you know lilies are one of my favorite flowers?”

“I guessed, a very fortunate guess as it turns out to be.” You think you might as well die, combust on-site, from how warm he makes you feel.

“They’re beautiful, thank you so much.” You repeat. “Please come in! I’m so sorry I’m not dressed yet, I just finished the dishes.” You apologize, cheeks burning red as he steps to stand in front of you in the entrance.

“I think you look perfect,” he whispers, stroking your cheek slowly. You sigh in content, eyes closing, as soon as you feel his skin against yours, unknowingly leaning into his hand. You both stand there, taking in each other’s presence, for what seems like hours.

“Let me take your coat,” you whisper softly, looking up at him.

“It’s ok darling, get those flowers in some water,” Loki whispers back, your knees buckling under the weight of the nickname.

You slowly nod against his hand still on your face and regretfully make your way to the kitchen, Loki following closely behind. He takes off his coat and hangs it on the back of one of the barstools, as you’re putting the flowers in a vase. Pretending to be focused on the flowers, you let your eyes wander his body, starting from his thighs - the rest being cut off by the counter -, up his waist, stomach, broad shoulders, arms, and back up to his gorgeous lips you crave to kiss, his nose you want to feel nuzzled in the crook of your neck, and his eyes… your own forest you’d run through forever. How could one being be so beautiful? Loki was breathtakingly beautiful, tearing your eyes away from his face was a strenuous feat. Turning your attention to your dinner, you opened the oven to check on the food. You jump and gasp when you feel Loki moving closer behind you, his hand snaking up your hips.

“Do you need help with anything?” He asks, his sultry voice making you dizzy and immediately wet.

“N-no, I have it a-all under control,” you stutter, shooting up from your bent-over position. Loki’s hands are still on your hips when you turn around to face him, resting your hands on his firm chest. You’re standing so close to each other you could tilt your head up and kiss him if you wanted to… and you desperately want to.

“I… umm… should go get dressed.” You choke out. “Can you… keep an eye on the... uh… oven?”

“Of course.” He replies, one hand moving to your hair, tucking a strand of it behind your ear.

You give him a smile and head towards your bedroom, where you collapse on your bed as soon as you reach it. Holy shit, this man is going to be the death of you, with his voice, his touch, and his eyes. Every time he spoke, the heat in your belly sparked up to a hellish blaze, making you weak in the knees. He’s waiting for you out there, don’t be a coward, get up, you finally tell yourself. Taking your shirt off, you walk to your closet to figure out something to wear, yet again.

“Oh! I am so sorry, I should have announced myself,” Loki says from your bedroom door, and you jump, grabbing the closest piece of fabric to cover yourself up.

“Oh God!” You scream, your hand flying up to your chest, heart pounding. With a single step, Loki crosses the distance between the two of you, his palms up as to hold you, but he stops himself.

“Hey - hey there, it’s just me. I am so sorry I scared you darling.” He whispers softly, trying to calm you down.

“I- uh, it’s ok. I just didn’t hear you coming.” You say, trying to slow down the cascading beat of your heart. And then it hits you. The piece of fabric you had grabbed to cover yourself with was the cream coloured blouse you had bought months ago but never wore for the simple reason it was way too sheer. So sheer in fact, it meant that Loki could clearly see through it, he could see your naked stomach and black lace bra. You could feel his gaze on you as you turned bright red, scrambling to find something else to cover up with.

“I-I’m sorry, I-I didn’t realize you could see everything.” You apologize profusely.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his tone of voice stopping you in your tracks. You turn to look at him and you see his eyes exploring your body, admiration pouring out of them. He steps closer to you, grabbing the hand you were using to search with, and running his up from your wrist to your shoulder, slowly tracing your collar bone, before making it way up your neck, gently across your cheek and getting lost in your hair. You moan softly under his touch, the blouse falling quietly on the floor as you reach for him with both hands.

Before you know it, your lips meet, sending jolts of electricity through your body. You reach your arms up and wrap them around Loki’s neck, pulling him closer to you. Your sudden burst of passion makes him groan under your touch and he deepens your kiss, teasing the tip of his tongue in between your lips as he pins you against the wall, igniting a burning desire in you. You feel his hands slide from your hair slowly down to the small of your back, resting there for a moment before cupping your ass and he lifts you up in his arms. You gasp against his mouth as you wrap your legs around his waist, surprised at his strength. He keeps kissing you as he walks you over to the bed, laying you down gently. For a moment, you’re both just staring at each other, eyes full of desire and catching your breath.

“Are you sure?” Loki asks, brushing hair out of your face and then carefully brushing his thumb against your swollen lips. You part them, taking his thumb in your mouth and slowly sucking on it as you nod. The soft moan that comes out of his lips as you suck on his digit sets off an even hotter fire through your belly. Loki crashes his lips against yours, his hands roaming your body. He moves his mouth to your neck, kissing and biting love marks all over it, as you fumble around with the buttons on his shirt, the task being a lot more difficult with this man’s lips all over you. As soon as the shirt falls open, you’re frozen, your eyes roaming his strong, sublime body, hands running over the contours of his stomach, absolutely mesmerized.

“You’re so beautiful,” you echo Loki’s words.

Capturing your lips again, he starts kissing down your neck again, making his way to your chest. Slowly running his right hand up your body, he cups your breast as he licks the other one through the lace of your bra and you’re moaning, your back arching under his touch.

“That’s where you’re wrong, you are beautiful,” he whispers against your skin, making you shiver. “So beautiful, how could I ever live without you anymore.”

Loki begins kissing his way down your stomach, undoing your pants slowly and brushing his lips across your lower stomach. You whimper as he pulls your jeans off and comes back up, hooking his fingers around the waistband of your panties, kissing your thigh as he slides them down too. His hands are back on your inner thighs before the rest of him is, and you’re throbbing, clenching, soaking even more, just knowing that his fingers are inches away from where you need him most.

“Is this ok?” he asks you softly, feeling his hot breath between your thighs.

“Yes.” And his tongue is on you, parting you so incredibly slow, you think you might pass out. You’re wet, you know that, and he knows that too as he moans against you, licking small little circles around your clit. You’re trying so hard to stay quiet, every bone in your body fighting against the urge to scream out his name. You feel his nose pressed up against you as he’s devouring you like you’re the last meal he’ll ever have, his hands gripping and squeezing your thighs, your hips, your waist. He slowly retreats, letting his fingers tease you for a little as he flashes you a quick smile, eyes burning with desire, and you feel a thick single finger slide excruciatingly slow inside of you.

“Fuck!” is all you can manage, every other word and sound stuck in your throat.

Loki starts pumping his finger, in and out, out and in, getting faster and faster, adding a second one and sucking on your clit so hard, you’re about to cum. You grab fistfuls of his hair as you arch your back into him, begging him to keep going, to lick you more. You scream as you cum all over his fingers, the orgasm sending violent spasms throughout your entire body. As you’re trying to catch your breath, his mouth leaves you, making it harder for you to breathe, and he kisses you. He tastes like you, and all you can think about is wanting to make him feel as good as he just made you feel. Sitting up on your elbows, still kissing him, you bring him closer to you, sliding your lips from his mouth to his ear, catching his ear lobe in between your teeth and whispering softly, voice still rough from your orgasm.

“Please… let me touch you.” He groans against your neck and flips you, so he’s lying on the bed. Loki grabs your face and kisses you passionately as you unbuckle his belt and take his pants and briefs off. You’re astonished at how big he is, thick and long, already hard for you. You kiss his stomach as you slide a hand down, wrapping your fingers around him as he throbs, and slowly start pumping your fist. The sound that makes his way from his chest and out his lips is almost enough to make you cum again, and you slide your mouth down, licking that small bead of precum from the tip and wrapping your mouth around him, sucking softly. Loki moans your name, grabbing a handful of your hair, as you start bopping your head, accentuating your movement with your hand. Before long he’s pleading for you to stop, his hips spasming, making him thrust into your mouth. Retreating with an audible pop, you giggle as you take your bra off before climbing on top of him, his dick throbbing against you. As Loki wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer, he flips you again, running his hands along your curves while a happy moan escapes you. Slowly, he slides the tip of him between your lips and you gasp at how thick he is, but you’re still wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you. You hold there for a moment, gazing in each other's eyes and in one swift movement, he buries himself deep inside of you, a growl slipping through his lips.

“F-fuck darling, you feel so good.” He moans as he starts to thrust in you, shattering your entire world. You can’t formulate words, all you know and all you’ve ever known is that nobody has taken care of you like Loki is doing right now. You want this moment to last forever, him inside of you, your bodies interlaced, lips pressed against each other’s, your choked out breaths matching the beating of your hearts to the rhythm of your desire for one another. Everything you’ve ever known ceases to exist, but the two of you, in that moment, as Loki makes love to you passionately. He’s rolling his hips, hitting a spot in you you didn’t know could get you so close to the edge of insanity so fast.

“Loki, fuck! I-I’m gonna…” you start.

“Wait for me,” he moans out after you, pumping his hips harder into you, one hand gripping your hip, the other lost in your hair. “Fuck”. And you do, until his last powerful thrust and you cry out as you feel him explode inside of you, your orgasm ripping your body to shreds from the sheer intensity of it.

You stay lying there for a while, him still inside of you, your arms wrapped around him, as his head rests against yours. Gently, he rolls off to the side, pulling you into his and kissing you deeply. You sigh in pure bliss as he kisses you, resting your hand up his sweaty torso, following the movement of his breaths.

“I think we might’ve overcooked, possibly even burnt, the food,” he whispers in your hair, and you feel him smile.

“Worth it to me, was it not to you?” You tease, kissing him again.

“I’m hurt you would even question it, my beautiful girl,” his reply sending butterflies through your stomach as he kisses you back with infinite softness.

You are lost in the moment, wishing you could forever just kiss this God’s lips.

Taglist : @kingtwhiddleston

[yellowsuitcase]

Snowy Dances // Draco Malfoy

Request (from wattpad) - Could you write one where the reader is a half-blood Ravenclaw and is going going meet Draco's parents, then, Draco proposes to marry the reader and Lucius and Narcissa approved? Thanks, I love your stories!

A/N: Omg I did NOT expect this to be so long. I literally just started writing and couldn’t stop. I’m absolutely in love with this imagine, I think it’s one of my favorites that I’ve written. I really hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Draco takes Y/N to meet his parents for the first time and proposes to her. So much fluff.

Waring(s): Mentions of death

Word Count: 4.2k

Draco examined the little black box in his hand. Today was the day he was going to ask his girlfriend to marry him. He pocketed the ring box and called out to her, “Are you ready, love?” from their downstairs kitchen. He and Y/N had been dating since their fifth year at Hogwarts. They’d bought a little cottage in Godric’s Hollow. They'd been living there since 1999, a year after the Battle of Hogwarts had ended. It was now 2003, and Draco thought it was about time for Y/N to meet his parents. The half-blood Ravenclaw, however, thought otherwise.

“Not quite,” he heard her yell from her upstairs bathroom. Draco sighed and put down his cup of pumpkin juice, a beverage he’d always been fond of from his time at Hogwarts, and began walking up the stairs. When he reached the top, he cautiously walked to the bathroom door and knocked. “May I come in?” he asked. A few moments later, the door opened to reveal Y/N. She was wearing a velvet blue floor-length dress. Draco thought she looked stunning, but before he could tell her so, she spoke up.

“I just need a few more minutes; my hair isn’t cooperating,” she said softly. It seemed as though she was having a hard time pinning her hair to the back of her head. This was a hairstyle Draco had seen Y/N pull off many times, so he knew that she was biding her time by pretending to have trouble with it. He watched as she got more and more flustered as she reached behind her skull and weaved the pin through her locks. Draco gently took her hands in his and swiftly took the hairpin from her grasp and slipped it into his. Y/N let out a sigh and watched in the mirror as Draco lovingly took some pieces of her hair and tucked it underneath the pin, then clasped it with a snap. 

He met her eyes in the mirror. “You’ve been stalling,” he said. She averted her eyes, giving Draco more evidence that he was correct. “There’s nothing to be worried about; they’ll love you,” he assured her while stroking the back of her neck. He could feel the tension in her shoulders begin to fade as he did this.

“But what if they don’t? You’ve said a million times how much they value blood status, and my mother was a muggle. Surely they already have reservations about me,” Y/N said. She knew that when Draco had written to his parents, he’d told them she was a half-blood. 

“My parents may have their beliefs, but they also are aware that I am an adult who can make his own choices. And if I choose to be with a half-blood, then they’ll just have to accept it. And even if they don’t, it’s not going to change anything, alright?” Draco asked as he grasped Y/N’s shoulders and turned her around to face him. “I need you to understand that no matter what anyone says, whether it be my parents or a stranger on the street, nothing will change the fact that I love you,” he said. His eyes never left his lover’s. A blush crept up her neck and onto her cheeks. His words made her heart squeeze. 

“I love you too,” she said softly. Draco smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple. 

“Ready to go now?” he asked. Y/N inhaled deeply, willing the butterflies in her stomach to fly away. She nodded as a determined look emerged on her face. “That’s my girl,” Draco mused. “Now, shall we apparate to my childhood home?”

Y/N bit her lip and rocked back and forth on her heels. Draco raised an eyebrow, questioning what was going on in his woman’s head. She looked up at him, and he could see the look of mischief in her eyes. “Well, I was hoping we could take the bus,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“The bus? As in the muggle bus?” Draco asked. He was visibly puzzled as to why she’d want to ride the bus all the way to his family’s manor. It would take a good four hours to get there that way.

“No, silly. The Knight Bus. I haven’t ridden it since I was sixteen, and I thought it’d be fun,” she said sweetly. But the sparkle in her eyes began to fade when she saw Draco’s apprehensive expression. She lowered her head and mumbled, “We don’t have to, though; I’ve probably made us late already.” 

Draco’s hand found her chin and tilted it upwards. “I’m sure my parents will live even if we’re a few minutes late,” he said. Y/N’s face lit up at his words, and she grabbed his hand. Before he could process what was happening, he was being dragged down the steps and through their front door. He hardly got the chance to lock it since Y/N was yanking on his arm, eager to hail the bus. 

When they got to the sidewalk outside their home, Y/N immediately raised her wand hand to summon the bus. It came barreling down the street and then to a screeching halt in front of the couple. A thin man greeted them with a smile and said, “Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this afternoon.”

Y/N flashed Draco a smile and ran up to the stairs of the bus. She ran inside the bus while Draco passed Stan a galleon and five sickles to pay for the both of them. Stan took them and pocketed the coins into his breast pocket. Draco didn’t miss the disgruntled look Stan had given him, but he didn’t care. The only thing his mind was focused on was Y/N, and the night ahead of them. 

When Draco entered the bus, he saw his lover settling into a cozy armchair at the back of the bus. The day was still young; thus, the beds were nowhere to be found. Draco took a seat in the blue chair next to Y/N’s green one. Once his bottom touched the cushion, the bus propelled forward at a ridiculous speed. Draco felt like he might puke. Meanwhile, Y/N looked like a first-year student in Honeydukes. 

“Where are you two headed to?” Stan asked.

Y/N noticed her boyfriend’s face turning green, so she spoke up. “Malfoy Manor,” she said. Stan raised an eyebrow, and suddenly, Y/N realized her mistake. Malfoy was a well-known surname, and not for good reasons. She felt the eyes of other passengers turn to her and her boyfriend. Her hand found Draco’s; she clenched it tightly and silently prayed that they wouldn’t be kicked off the bus. Draco saw the look on Y/N’s face and was filled with anger. He knew that because of him, she was now scared. His family name was powerful, yes, but in all the wrong ways. And now it was causing problems, something it seemed to do quite often nowadays. 

Draco lifted her hand to his lips, where he planted a tender kiss. He lowered her hand but began to stroke the top of it with his thumb, hoping to soothe his girlfriend’s anxiety. She gave him a sheepish smile. “Maybe we shouldn’t have taken the bus,” she said softly. Draco’s heart sunk. He felt so guilty. Today was supposed to be a good day, the best day. It was going to be the beginning of the rest of their lives, and he’d be damned if he let his past ruin it. 

“Hey, look at me,” he said. Y/N removed her eyes from the floor. “They don’t matter. We have every right to ride the bus as they do, alright? Don’t let them get in your pretty little head.” Y/N couldn’t fight the smile that was creeping onto her face. She nodded and reached forward to give her man a kiss. He welcomed it with open arms. 

Suddenly, the bus took a sharp turn. It made Draco’s chair slide to the left and bump into Y/N’s, causing her to giggle. “What’re you giggling about?” Draco asked bemusedly. Y/N continued to laugh before answering.

“It’s bumper chairs,” she stated plainly as if it was apparent. 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Bumper chairs?”

“Well, in the muggle world, we have an activity called bumper cars. It’s a fun little game that they have at carnivals and fairs, and what it is is you sit in these little buggies and drive them around and try to crash them into other people. It can get really competitive, but it’s a breeding ground for laughter. My mother and I would always take a spin in them before leaving the fairgrounds,” Y/N mused, her voice growing sad at the thought of her late mother. 

“That does sound quite fun; we’ll have to try it one day,” he said. He really did wish to try this muggle activity. 

Y/N smiled at him. “She would’ve loved you, my mother. I wish she could’ve met you.”

Draco frowned at her words. He knew Y/N’s mother had been a significant person in her life. He was with her when she’d gotten the news of her passing. He remembered sitting in front of the fireplace that night. She had stayed curled up in his arms, sobbing the night away. By the look on Y/N’s face, she remembered the memory as well. 

“I wish I could’ve had the pleasure of meeting her as well. She must’ve been an extraordinary woman considering she made you,” he said comfortingly. Y/N let out a chuckle. “She was. But I’m sure your mother is equally as lovely, considering she made you.” 

Draco laughed, “I see what you did there, you sly dog. But yes, she’s lovely, and she’s going to adore you. I can feel it.”

Y/N grimaced. “You sure?”

“I’m certain. I’m beyond excited,” Draco assured her. Just then, the bus came to a halt, which launched the pair off their chairs and onto the floor. “Malfoy Manor!” Stan called. Y/N and Draco turned their heads to look at each other. They burst into laughter as they clambered to their feet. Ignoring the stares from fellow passengers, they hopped off the bus, but not before giving their thanks to the driver and Stan. 

Once they set foot on the road, the bus zoomed away in a flash, leaving the couple alone in the street. Y/N’s anxiety had already returned; Draco could sense it. “Just breathe, darling. They’ll like you.”

They began walking down the long concrete pathway to the front door. “But what if they don’t?” Y/N asked, her eyebrows furrowed with uneasiness. “You’re the wittiest woman I know, not to mention your creativity and fast thinking. You’ll know exactly what to say to charm the hell out of them. Believe in yourself like I believe in you,” Draco said encouragingly. 

Y/N let out a big breath and nodded. Draco grasped her hand and led her up to the tall black doors. “Whenever you’re ready, love,” he said while reaching his other hand into his pocket to make sure the ring was still there. It was. Y/N held her breath and raised her fist to the firm wood. She rested her knuckles on it for just a moment and then knocked twice. “Oh god,” she mumbled. Draco squeezed her hand. Then the door opened. Lucius Malfoy had his hand on the doorknob, his wife, Narcissa, stood behind him. She was clothed in a luxurious black dress, silver decals lined the collar. Lucius wore a long-sleeved leather suit paired with a long black robe. They looked like the definition of intimidating.

“Draco. Welcome home,” Lucius said as he opened the door wider and motioned for the two of them to come inside. Draco squeezed Y/N’s hand again and led them through the doorway. “This must be Y/N, of whom you’ve told us so much about,” Narcissa said calmly. Draco looked at Y/N, urging her to speak. Fear swirled in Y/N’s stomach, but she pushed past it and said, “Yes, that’s me. It’s so good to meet you at last. You’ve raised a wonderful son.”

Narcissa smiled softly and glanced at her husband, who had a smug look on his face. “Well, I should hope so. He was quite a handful as a boy. Frankly, he still is a handful,” Lucius said. Narcissa lightly patted her husband's arm as if to scold him, but it was apparent she had little to no say over his actions. “I couldn’t have been that bad. Right, mother?” Draco asked. Narcissa smiled at him and reached up to caress his cheek. 

“You were quite the young boy, but you’ve grown into such a handsome young man. It’s been too long since we’ve last seen you. Why did you never visit sooner?” she asked her son. Draco inhaled sharply and looked at Y/N briefly. He went to reply but was interrupted by his mother saying, “Let’s have a seat, and you can tell us all about what you’ve been up to these past years.” The couple nodded and followed the Malfoys to their grand dining room. Y/N felt the air turn cold as they entered. Luckily, Draco’s parents led them through that room and into a living room. Black leather couches surrounded a massive white marble fireplace. Narcissa and Lucius took a seat, as did Draco and Y/N. Once they’d all gotten comfortable, Draco began to speak. 

“Well, these last four years in Godric’s Hollow have been really nice. We’ve spent a lot of time traveling. I think I sent you both an owl with a photo of us in America. We visited amusement parks, skyscrapers, and we even stayed in a little beach house.”

Y/N cut in to comment on their travels. “We also visited Asia. Japan was incredible; we got to ride flying carpets! It was so different from brooms; you felt as if you would fall off at any moment,” she laughed. Draco snickered along with her. “I almost did fall off,” he stated. Y/N’s laughter grew, “Oh my gosh, you did. I’d forgotten all about that.” The couple kept laughing and failed to notice the fond expressions on Lucius and Narcissa’s faces. 

“Sounds like you’ve had quite an eventful time together,” Narcissa mused. Y/N turned away from Draco to look at his mother. “Oh, yes, we’ve had the most wonderful trips. I’m glad I’ve had him by my side all these years,” she said fondly. Draco smiled at her and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “And I, you,” he said. They were caught off guard by Lucius’s question.

“So you’re in love then? With a half-blood?”

Y/N’s heart sank. This was what she was afraid of. She wouldn’t be able to look at Draco the same if his parents disapproved of her, and Lucius’s brutally unfiltered question made her panic. Draco puffed up his chest and looked into his father’s eyes. “Yes, father, I am. I love Y/N so much, in fact…” he trailed off as he got to his feet and reached into his pocket. Y/N looked up at him in confusion and apprehension. And then he lowered his knee and held up a little black box. Slowly, he opened it to reveal a ring. Y/N felt tears spring to her eyes. 

Draco’s heart was pounding against his ribcage, sending pulses of anxiety through his entire body. He’d been planning this proposal for months, even though he knew he wanted to marry Y/N since the first time he saw her. He still remembered that moment. It was during their fifth year at Hogwarts. Draco had just left potions class and was walking past the courtyard when he saw a Ravenclaw tie on the ground. He didn’t bother picking it up but still lifted his head to look around for who might’ve lost it. And then he saw her. She was standing in the middle of the courtyard, arms outstretched and mouth open wide for snowflakes to fall into. It was as if time had stopped ticking when he laid his eyes on her. She was so effortlessly beautiful. Ethereal, almost. Her laughs echoed through the courtyard as she twirled and twirled. 

Draco knew he had to talk to her, so he reached down to pick up the tie. When he had it in his grasp, he began walking towards the girl. He called out to her, “Did you drop this?” 

She turned towards him. Her eyes flickered to her tie in his hand. “Yes,” she replied plainly. Draco was at a loss for words. He’d been expecting a bit more words than just one. 

“Uhm, would you like it back?” he asked. 

She shook her head. “That’s alright. I knew it was there.” 

Again, Draco didn’t know what to say. Why wouldn’t she want her tie back? “So you don’t want it?” he asked once more. 

“No, thank you. You can leave it where you found it,” she said softly. “Would you like to spin with me?” she asked. Her big doe eyes gazed at the blonde boy who was positively puzzled by the girl in front of him. 

“Spin with you?” Draco asked. The girl nodded and smiled. “Yes, spin with me. I promise it’s fun,” she said. The young Slytherin was perplexed. Who was this girl?

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” Draco asked. She smiled.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class, Malfoy?” she retorted.

Draco’s heart leaped. “You know who I am?”

“Of course I do. Everyone in our year knows who you are,” she replied as if this was common knowledge. It caught Draco off guard. She rolled her eyes. “Well?” she asked.

“What?” Draco replied. The Ravenclaw sighed. “Are you going to spin with me or not?”

Draco studied her for a few moments. She was looking at him with a slightly annoyed expression. Her hip was cocked to one side, and snowflakes were embedded in her hair. The strands were growing damp. Some had even begun to stick to her forehead. Her eyes seemed to sparkle, and her lips were bright red from the crisp air. She was almost otherworldly. Something about her was… different. Draco liked it.

“I’ll spin with you…” he trailed off. “Y/N Y/L/N,” the girl replied. Draco nodded and watched as she lifted her arms to the sky and began to twirl. The blonde boy hesitantly joined her. He was unsure at first, but after a few circles, he was already feeling lighter. When he began to feel dizzy, he stopped spinning and shifted his eyes to Y/N. Her eyes were closed; she looked peaceful. Draco was absolutely mesmerized.

She looked as ethereal and beautiful as she did on that snowy day in the courtyard, even with tears in her eyes. “Y/N Y/L/N, I’ve never been so enamored by anyone in my life as much as I am enamored of you. You are the most intelligent, pure, generous person I have ever met. I admire you more than I care to admit. I’m so glad that I saw your tie in that corridor. I don’t know where I would be right now if I hadn’t picked it up. You make me feel whole, Y/N. You’ve been the center of my life for eight years and... I’d like to ensure that you stay in the center for the rest of my years. The rest of our years. With that being said, will you marry me?”

Tears were streaming down Y/N’s cheeks. She could see the overflowing amount of love in Draco’s eyes when he looked at her. He looked at her as if she was the only person left on earth. Slowly, she glanced up at Draco’s parents. Narcissa was crying as well. She smiled at Y/N. Lucius was stoic, but there was tenderness in his eyes. When he made eye contact with Y/N, he nodded. She looked back at Draco and smiled. “Yes.”

Draco let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He took the ring from the box with shaky hands and held it between his thumb and index finger. He grasped his now fiancé’s left hand and gently slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. Draco sprung to his feet, took Y/N’s face in his hands, and without hesitation, pressed his lips to hers. Their salty tears mixed with each other as they silently celebrated. When they pulled away, Draco turned to his parents. His mother welcomed him with open arms, and he rushed into them. Y/N watched fondly. And then Narcissa opened her arms once more for her. Tentatively, she walked forward and allowed herself to be embraced by her future mother in law. When Narcissa’s arms wrapped around her back, she felt a sense of peace overtake her. It felt good to have a mother’s hug again. 

Lucius stared at Draco intently. Draco stared back just as firmly. Y/N was afraid of what might happen next. What if he was angry? What if she had only imagined that nod he’d given her. Her fears dissipated when Lucius laid a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “Well done, Draco,” he said quietly. 

Draco’s chest swelled with pride. His father’s opinion and approval was something he’d been chasing for more than half of his life. So to finally hear those words fall from his lips was an exhilarating and freeing feeling. Both couples smiled and retook their former spots on the couches. Everyone felt lighter; the afternoon’s previous tension was now gone.

--------

Later on in the evening, Draco and Y/N were getting settled in Draco’s old bedroom. Narcissa had convinced them to stay the night so they could begin wedding preparations at once the next morning. They’d been shocked by her eagerness at first but shrugged it off when they remembered that her only son had just gotten engaged. Of course, she was excited. 

“I can’t believe this is the first time I’m seeing your room,” Y/N said as she wandered around his room. She stopped at a mahogany desk facing a window. “Is this where you wrote me all those love letters?” she asked teasingly. Draco rolled his eyes. He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her, giving her a back hug. They stared out the window at the starry sky, and Draco pressed a kiss to Y/N’s nape. Then he pulled away. “Come, I want to show you something.”

Y/N looked at him skeptically but followed him out of his room and down the stairs anyway. He led her through twists and turns. They passed the kitchen, Lucius’s study, and a dark green living room before arriving at two tall doors. Draco smiled at her before placing both hands on the handles. Wordlessly, he turned them and pushed the doors open to reveal a magnificent marble ballroom. A gasp fell from Y/N’s lips. 

“Oh, Draco, this is beautiful.”

Draco smiled and sneakily plucked his wand from his pocket and cast a charm on the piano in the left corner. It began to play soft classical music. He stuck his wand back in his pocket and turned to his fiancé. “Care to dance?” he asked while holding out his hand to her. She smiled lovingly at Draco. Her hand grasped his, but before they could dance, she reached down to grab her shoe. She removed one black heel and then the other. Draco wasn’t surprised; she’d never been one for fancy shoes. 

“My mother would have a heart attack if she knew someone had put their bare feet on this floor. In fact, I think you might be the first to do so,” he said. Y/N shrugged. “It’ll be our secret,” she said. Draco smirked and pulled her out to the middle of the ballroom. His hand found her hip, and hers found his. And on a count of three, they began to waltz. The music grew quiet as the presence of one another took center stage. Their eyes never left the others. The two of them were so entranced by one another. So in love, they were. 

They danced, and they danced. The music seemed to guide their steps as they moved forward and backward. For each twirl, Draco held his lover’s hand tightly, never wanting to let go. She looked breathtaking. Her eyes sparkled with the reflection of the grand chandeliers hanging overhead. Her skin glowed with joy as she twirled, and twirled, and twirled. 

Suddenly, something in the window caught Draco’s eye. It was snowing. He felt his heart jump, and he quickly grabbed Y/N’s waist. She looked at him, confused as to why he’d unexpectedly grabbed her. But she didn’t have a moment to ask him any questions because he bent his legs and lifted her up onto his shoulder. “Draco!” she squealed. He paid her no mind as he began to run towards the balcony. When he reached the glass doors, he pushed them open and walked himself and Y/N out onto the stone terrace. He set her down and watched as her confusion was replaced with awe. Snowflakes had already begun to embed themselves in her hair. She gazed up at Draco and smiled.

“Would you like to spin with me?” she asked.

Draco grinned and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, eliciting a giggle to escape her. “Yes, I would.”

The couple lifted their arms to the sky and began to spin.

[bittydragon]

Costumes and Candy

Notes: I tried super hard to get this out before Halloween was over. I still have 10 minutes where I’m at, so I think I did it. (It may be a bit rushed though, whoops). Thought some cute Halloween shenanigans were in order. Happy Halloween!

“Despite being a borrower, this is still my favorite time of the year. Do you wanna know why~?”

Bad looked over at Skeppy, who was carelessly sitting on the countertop edge swinging his legs. He stared at Skeppy in silence for a few seconds debating on if he really wanted to know the reason. With a sigh of resignation, he gave Skeppy his full attention.

“Don’t make me regret this, Geppy. Why is this your favorite time of the year?” He regretted it as soon as he asked because of the shit-eating grin that appeared on the borrower’s face.

“I can pull so many pranks and humans either blame it on each other or ghosts! Like you did! Except it was not pumpkin day.” Bad groaned and settled his face in his hands. He should have expected an answer like that from the little trickster. It was no surprise to him that Skeppy’s pranks would amplify on the day that was literally made for mischief and scares. Bad himself liked the costume and candy aspect more of Halloween. It was so much fun dressing up as whatever you could think of. And the faces of the kids he handed out candy too every year made his day every single time.

He remembered trick-or-treating back when he was younger. The excitement from the candy surplus he managed to acquire every year was the most amazing feeling in the world. He wanted to spread that joy to any kid he possibly could. So as soon as he had his own home, he always sat outside with a pumpkin basket full of sweets. He had such a reputation around Halloween that even teenagers would come to his house shyly asking for candy themselves. Bad gladly gave in to their requests. Nobody was too old for trick-or-treating in his mind. He would attempt it if he didn’t want to give candy out more.

Suddenly, realization of something else Skeppy had said came to Bad’s mind. “Pumpkin day? Is that what you borrowers call it?” Skeppy stopped swinging his legs and looked up at Bad. Confusion was written all over his face.

“Yea. Pumpkin day. The day where children get into strange outfits to get free candy, where older humans go prank each other and get scared for fun, and where humans put pumpkins with silly pictures on them out in front of their homes. Do humans call it something else?” Skeppy looked confused. Bad just smiled at him. He moved his hands to rest directly below Skeppy and the borrower didn’t hesitate to slide himself into the awaiting hands.

“Us humans actually call this day Halloween. But pumpkin day is actually a good name for it too!” Skeppy smiled up at Bad and let out a short laugh.

“Halloween doesn’t even sound like it means anything! You humans are strange.”

“It’s a long explanation for the name. You’re right, we are pretty strange.”

They sat there in comfortable silence for a few moments before an idea popped into Bad’s head.

“Hey, Skeppy? Would you like to participate in a special Halloween tradition of mine later tonight?”

---

George decided very quickly that he was glad Dream was now another one of his roommates. 

They were all putting on the final touches to their costumes (even Dream, he was going to sneak around with them in George’s pocket) when Sapnap decided he wanted to bring a flamethrower with them. A real flamethrower. As a “part of his costume.” Sapnap was going as a werewolf.

He and Dream were both explaining that a flamethrower was a bad idea and that a flamethrower does not go with a werewolf. Sapnap was not pleased with his roommates tag teaming him against his case.

A few hours and a grumpy Sapnap later, they were standing on the porch in their costumes preparing to go out.

Sapnap grumbled to himself as he adjusted the ears on his head, mumbling about how George and Dream were no fun. George was just happy that the chances of arson were lowered. He looked down at his slightly torn shirt to check on Dream in his chest pocket. The small borrower had a small stretch of fabric running over his shoulders, mimicking a cape. Honestly, his vampire costume was rather cute, but George would never say that aloud for his dignity and Dream’s. 

Dream smiled up at him and gave him a thumbs up. George nodded and looked back up to see Sapnap already halfway down the yard. 

“Hurry up! I now know why you’re a zombie!” He shouted, suddenly making a break to the road.

“Oh shut up!” George quickly took off after his friend. He smiled at the laughter coming from his shirt.

A few minutes later, they found themselves standing in front of a small house. It was decorated with a few plastic bats and a few pumpkins were also found on the porch. There was also a familiar man sitting on the porch in the same chair as every year with the same pumpkin basket. George and Sapnap quickly ran up to the man, waving as they did so. 

“BAD!” Bad smiled as he saw two of his closest friends run up to him.

“Hey you muffins! Should have known you two would stop by.” Bad paused to dramatically put his hand over his heart and put on a faux sad face. “But alas, you only want the candy and you no longer care about your good friend Bad!”

A small laugh rang out for a second before cutting off. George nervously brought his hand to his pocket, afraid that Dream just gave himself away. But Bad didn’t look suspicious, only slightly panicked. It was quickly replaced with laughter of his own, which George and Sapnap joined in on.

“Anyways, I am aware you two actually do want candy. Just take some, you know I can’t stop you.” George and Sapanap quickly dug into the bucket and pulled out a few pieces of candy. As soon as Bad looked down when he pulled the bucket back, George slipped a small candy into his pocket.

“By the way Bad, did you seriously dress up as an angel for Halloween?” George lifted an eyebrow at Bad, who just chuckled. “Kinda ironic because you’re pretty much a, y’know-”

“Yea, yea. I know. Thought it would be fun!”

After laughing for a bit, the duo said their goodbyes. As George was turning around, Dream decided to sneak a peek at this ‘Bad’ person. And he wasn’t sure if he was seeing things or if there was a tiny devil perched on his shoulder. 

---

“I should have never let this happen.” “Yea, you shouldn’t have let this happen.”

“...This may be more my fault, guys.”

Phil, Techno, and Wilbur watched on as Tommy once again tried to vault himself through the toaster while pretending to be a ghost and while Tubbo kept making attempts at flying by throwing himself off of whatever ledge he could find.

Their costumes were one of the main reasons for this all. Tommy wanted to dress up for this fun holiday and decided a tissue with ripped holes for eyes was perfect. And now that he was a ghost he thought he could phase through walls. He was probably very close to an injury. And Tubbo, with the cute bee outfit Phil put together for him, decided he could fly with the plastic wings on his back. Though, the sugar from the candy wasn’t helping either.

“Wilbur. How were you supposed to know they would be this way on sugar? This isn’t something you said you all had access too, you nerd.” Techno tried looking at Wilbur, who was perched on his shoulder. Wilbur just pat his cheek and redirected his gaze to Tubbo. Techno sighed and put his hand out right as Tubbo jumped again. 

When Tubbo landed in Techno’s hand, he began to pout. Techno ignored this and just sat Tubbo back on the counter with a huff. Tubbo got over it rather quickly and was smiling and running again in a few seconds.

“Guess you got me there, Tech.” Techno smiled.

“Well yea. I’m always right. I’m Technoblade.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw an annoyed Phil walk away from the crime scene. He returned moments later with his signature bucket hat. Wilbur and Techno both gave him a questioning glance, but Phil seemed focused and promptly ignored them.

As soon as Tubbo jumped again, Phil slid his hat under the boy. Tubbo let out a surprised shout when he fell into the hat instead of someone’s hand. Tommy stopped ramming into the toaster as soon as he heard Tubbo’s shout. He didn’t get a moment to react before Phil reached out and swept him into the hat as Tubbo.

Techno and Wilbur both stared in shock at Phil, processing what just happened. The two boys were shouting a storm from the hat, clearly annoyed with their endeavors being interrupted. Phil just stared back at Techno and Wilbur, clearly looking tired and annoyed. 

Wilbur was the first to break. He started laughing, and Techno joined him soon after. Phil smiled at that. At least they found his solution funny. Though, without anything to do, the two young borrowers quickly crashed from their sugar high. They began settling in the bottom of the hat and started to fall asleep.

“I am gladly giving up my hat if those two are sleeping now. That was horrible.” Despite Phil’s words, he looked adoringly at the two boys in his hat.

“Y’know, that one guy definitely had a borrower with him.”

“The devil one?”

“No, the vampire one.”

“Oh, ok.”

Wilbur, Techno, and Phil stared at the two boys who just fell asleep in shock. They didn’t see anyone with a devil or vampire costume. Which meant there were other borrowers who had dressed up and were with other humans.

Things just kept getting weirder and weirder.

For everyone.

[pellucidity-is-me]

Did it Hurt the Pig?

Summary: Remus has a very important question about Transfiguration as it pertains to living things. This is from chapter 23 in my longer fanfiction (Flirting with Ghosts), and I figured it would work as a very sad little one-shot. Link in bio description if you want to read the whole thing.

Wordcount: 1441

Remus loved Hogwarts.

His friends—yes, he had actual, real-live friends—were named James and Sirius, and they each accumulated two detentions before double Transfiguration that afternoon. They were troublemakers, and now they seemed to be drunk on mischief. 

Remus had not known that mischief was alcoholic, but he seemed to be a bit tipsy himself. He had laughed so hard in the past couple of hours that his head felt buzzy and his brain felt light. He’d never laughed this hard—not ever.

The Marauders ambled down the corridor, casually bumping into each other and joking as they went, and then took their seats in Transfiguration. They sat next to each other, as usual, and the feeling of being so close and casual with his friends was pure euphoria in Remus' eyes. Nothing could spoil it—though Remus knew that saying such a phrase, even in his own head, was bound to be awful foreshadowing. "That toad of yours—wouldn't it be great if he found himself in the bed of a first-year girl one morning?" asked James with glee.

Remus, who loved his pet toad very much, immediately sobered. He'd been right; it had been foreshadowing. "No. You are not using Bufo to prank people. They might squish him."

"You're no fun," Sirius pouted.

"Least I don't mumble to myself about what an amazing person I am when I fly broomsticks."

James groaned and punched Remus' arm lightly. "You are an awful person, Remus Lupin," he said, and Remus began to feel tipsy again.

"All right, settle down," said McGonagall sharply. Remus stopped giggling (with much effort). "Today we are going to be discussing transforming living things," continued McGonagall: "Watch carefully, now."

She pulled her wand out from her robes and pointed it at her desk. The desk seemed to pulse and twist—less than two seconds later, it had fully transformed into a living, breathing pig. James gasped a little from Remus' right. Remus gasped too, but for a very different reason. His head was beginning to get buzzy again... and laughter was no longer the cause of his symptoms.

McGonagall waved her wand again, and then the pig was once more a desk. "Brilliant," James muttered. McGonagall heard him, but she granted him a tight, pleased smile instead of reprimanding him.

Remus felt a little ill.

"We won't be doing anything like this until the end of the year, when we transform mice to snuffboxes," said McGonagall. "Living transfigurations are extraordinarily difficult. I'd like to discuss the theory, though. Open your textbooks to page eighty-one."

Remus did not move.

"Come on, Rem," said James. He reached over and flipped Remus' textbook open for him. "Are you ill or something? This is so cool!"

Remus did not think so.

McGonagall lectured and wrote on the board in chalk; Remus heard James scribbling notes on a piece of parchment fervently and Sirius teasing James for taking notes like a "dumb schoolgirl". Remus was amazed that he could hear anything, though, given the ocean noises dominating his ears.

The image of the poor pig, his legs folding in, his bones melting and reforming, his whole body turning to wood in the span of a few seconds, the odd liquifying of his pink body... it would not leave Remus' vision.

He vaguely heard McGonagall stop lecturing. "Mr. Lupin, are you quite all right?"

Remus shook his head to rid it of the ocean noises. He realized too late that it had seemed that he had been shaking his head no to McGonagall's question.

"What's wrong, then?" McGonagall asked.

"Er," said Remus. He needed to ask. He needed to ask without giving himself away, but he didn't know how. "Er, Professor..." He tried to come up with just the right phrasing, but the quest was fruitless. It was useless. Remus decided—against his better judgement—to throw caution to the wind.

"Did that hurt the pig?"

McGonagall's eyes narrowed, and Sirius snickered under his breath. Remus realized that Sirius thought that he was joking; trying to waste time so that the class would have to do less work... Remus decided that Sirius' assumption was better than the alternative, so he let a weak laugh of his own escape his lips. It sounded very forced, much to his chagrin.

McGonagall's features suddenly softened, and Remus hoped with all his heart that she did not realize why he was asking. Oh, who was he kidding? Of course she realized why he was asking! In the eyes of the Hogwarts staff, the fact that Remus transformed into a wolf every month was his defining trait.

"No," said McGonagall slowly.

"How do you know?" Remus said, pushing his luck. He had to know. "I mean, it's got to hurt. Pigs' skin isn't meant to turn into wood. Pigs are very different from desks... their bone structure and all. And desks are inanimate objects. Why wouldn't it hurt? Pigs are... pigs. Not desks..."

Remus mentally slapped himself. Here he was, admitting to McGonagall that the transformation every month was literally torture. He felt his cheeks grow red, and the ocean noises returned with vigor. "Just... just wondering, that's all," he said, and faked another laugh in order to keep his cover in front of his peers. He didn't think that it had worked, but perhaps...?

McGonagall seemed to be thinking very hard. "That... is a good question, Lupin. Compassionate, and with sound reasoning." At long last, she looked him in the eyes, and Remus looked away in spite of himself. "Ten points to Gryffindor." It seemed that all the points that Remus was receiving for Gryffindor were out of pity. Remus felt ashamed, even though he knew that shame wasn't the proper response to earning points for his House.

"I think I can take a few minutes to explain the answer." McGonagall walked up to the blackboard and erased it as she spoke. "There are a few different types of magic, as you've learned in Defense Against the Dark Arts. There's light magic, and then there's jinxes, hexes, and... curses." Remus noted her hesitation and tapped his finger under his desk anxiously.

"Transfiguration spells are known as light magic purely because they are not harmful in nature. They do not hurt the transformee because they are designed as such. Spell design is a complicated process, as is the process of transfiguration itself. It takes much focus and intention; painful unintended consequences, therefore, are very rare. We will only use light magic in this class, Lupin. You don't have to worry about any of the spells harming the recipient in any way—in fact, I go through all of the incorrectly-transformed animals myself after every class and correct the transfiguration. No animals will ever be harmed in my class... unless a student is not careful and steps on a beetle during our beetle-to-buttons unit in second year. That has, I'm afraid, happened before."

Some of the students giggled. Remus knew that they were laughing at the beetle comment, but he felt as if they were laughing at him... he sunk lower in his chair ever so slightly. He hated talking about—or even alluding to—his transformations. "That makes sense, Professor; thank you."

McGonagall was now carefully studying Remus' face, which was even worse than the previous awkward avoidance. Remus tried to look nonchalant. After a very uncomfortable moment (that was probably less than three seconds, but felt like three hours), James raised his hand. "So there are types of transfiguration that are Dark, and do hurt the subject?" he asked, and Remus froze. He mentally begged McGonagall to avoid the subject. Maybe if he thought hard enough, he would discover himself to be a Legilimens....

"Yes, Mr. Potter, but we will not be learning about such magic in this class," she said. "I don't believe that magic like that is ever acceptable. Most Dark Transfigurations, though, work by... by forcing the recipient to transform without magic... as a biological process, rather than a magical one. It is complicated, and you may research it on your own if you so desire."

Remus winced. I've done enough practical research to last me a lifetime, thanks.

"Thank you for the excellent question, Lupin. Have I satisfied your curiosity?"

"Yes, Professor," Remus said quietly. "I do believe that I shall be able to transform pigs to desks morally from now on."

The class tittered, and Professor McGonagall allowed herself a forced smile before continuing the lesson.

Remus vaguely wanted to transfigure himself into a pig. The life of a pig, he thought, would be much simpler than that of a werewolf.

[takadasaiko]

Aftermath (a Veronica Mars one shot)

FFN II AO3

Part of my Spanning Years, Continents series

Notes: I know these one shots were supposed to be movie to the beginning of S4, but this idea popped into my head a while back and I wasn't able to shake it, so here we go. It does take place after the S4 finale, but with the exception of Logan getting to live because I'm not a monster.

Summary: In the aftermath of Epner's last bomb, Logan struggles with recovery and what it cost him.

Aftermath

It wasn't that the waves were much louder on the ground floor than the third, but in the early hours of the morning when the rest of the world was silent, they sounded like they were. It was just one of the many things that Veronica had had to get used to in the new apartment over the course of the last few months. They'd been lucky, she knew, to catch an empty unit a few sections down from their own and on the ground floor so that Logan didn't have to struggle up three flights freshly home from the hospital. He would have given it the same stubborn effort that he'd given everything since the bomb had gone off, leaving him clinging to life without great odds at pulling through. He had, though. Stubbornly. Just like he had stubbornly pushed through surgeries and rehab. She had no doubt that he would have been willing to climb the stairs if that's what had needed to happen, but she hadn't wanted him to.

Anyway, this unit had a washer and dryer, she'd told him when he'd rolled his eyes at her from the hospital bed. It all worked out.

It had nothing to do with the overwhelming fear and guilt she had felt at seeing him lying on the street below their old unit or the fact that every time she risked a glance out their bedroom window she saw it happen all over again. The glass cutting her face and the pressure from the bomb sending her stumbling back. It had sent him flying too, but instead of a bed to catch his fall, he'd been tossed like a ragdoll into the building itself. The collision with the unyielding wall had broken bones and given him a bad concussion while shrapnel had done the rest of the damage. Nearly six months later he still wasn't back up to speed and the doctor warned him that there was a good chance he never would be.

Not that Logan listened to him. That could be for better or worse. The doctors had also told Veronica to make sure her new husband's affairs were in order and he'd proved them wrong there.

Veronica pulled in a deep breath, the sound of the waves doing nothing to lull her back to sleep with those thoughts rattling around in her brain. She turned in the bed, hoping that holding onto him and feeling his steady heartbeat would help ease her nerves, but found only empty space and rumpled sheets on his side. She sat up ramrod straight in the bed they shared, looking around the room still drenched in pre-dawn shadows. "Logan?"

Shuffling could be heard from the other side of the bathroom door now connected to their bedroom and, for the first time, she saw the light peeking out from under it. It opened and Logan shot her a curious look. "Hey. You okay?"

Veronica squinted against the fluorescent light shining into the bedroom and Logan seemed to notice as he reached back to switch it off. She watched - noting the very subtle limp that still worked its way into his step some mornings - as he made his way back to the bed and eased himself down. "You okay?" he had asked again, his brows drawn together with the question.

"Yeah. Yes. Just —" Just what? Thought he was really gone? Thought that the last six, nearly seven months had been a kinder dream to replace a realty her mind couldn't accept? It all sounded silly now that she was actually awake, so she forced a smile and rocked forward onto her knees. Her fingers teased at his hairline and the burn scars there, gently guiding him in until he met her halfway for a kiss. She leaned into it, feeling one of his hands against the side of her face and she tilted them both over so that he landed on his back, Veronica leaned over him with an impish smile. There was one way to banish those recurring fears. "I love you," she said firmly.

His thin lips quirked up into that lazy, amused smile she loved and he brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I love you too, but I need to finish getting ready if I'm going to make it down to base by seven."

Her pre-caffeinated brain spun trying to figure out why he needed to be down at the base at all that day before it slammed head first onto the answer. "You have your physical today."

"Yep," he answered, kissing the tip of her nose and his tone a lot cheerier than she would have expected. His last physical had not gone as well as the Navy doctor - or Logan - had hoped. After about a day of moping around the apartment Logan had very pointedly brushed it off as still healing and buckled down to work even harder than before. Wanting it - needing it - had been what had gotten him through ROTC, through OCS, and continuing through one of the toughest military training programs there was, but it might not be enough to keep it now. Veronica had heard his physical therapist remind him the last time she'd picked him up that sometimes there was just no bouncing back to before an injury.

"You want me to go with you?" she asked, hoping he wouldn't read too much into the offer.

"Aren't you working a case?"

He rolled a little and she slid off of him, letting him up. "Yeah, but I can make time if you want me there."

"I'll be okay," he promised, leaning in to steal a quick kiss. "How about you make reservations and we'll celebrate good news at dinner tonight?"

"Logan —"

"It's fine. I've got this."

She watched him carefully, and damn it if he hadn't convinced himself of it. She just hoped he was right.

Slowly she unfolded and stood on the bed, stepping to the edge so that she could wrap her arms around his neck and look down on him, her fingers teasing his short hair. She took a breath and went in with him. "Yeah you do. We'll celebrate good news."

"You keep looking at me like that, Mrs Echolls and I'm not gonna make it to base," he muttered, mischief dancing through his eyes.

Veronica snorted and released him. "Then go get 'em, Mr Mars."

And on the heels of a joke they'd held onto throughout his recovery, he turned to finish getting ready to drive down to San Diego.

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

She knew the moment she saw him walk through the office door that the news had been less than he'd hoped for. They canceled the reservations and went home with takeout and a bottle of wine. He didn't talk. No quips, no brushoffs, not even an honest opinion or an explanation of exactly what the doctor had said or what it meant. Veronica didn't know if they were forcing him into retirement - or was it discharging him? She wasn't entirely sure - or if they'd pushed the decision down the line. His squad had already been deployed without him two months earlier - this time for a longer tour - and while she hated the idea of him shipping out to join them, the idea of him losing the job he loved so much - because of hers, the pesky thought tried to push its way to the forefront - wasn't any better. Sure, he'd be safer, but he loved what he did. He'd tried to describe the way it felt to fly his jet to her one time. The rush of an aerial dogfight, the thrill of hitting supersonic, and the way he could trust that his Wizzo Dave Riley had his back, both literally and figuratively. Even when his duties had shifted in the last couple of years and he found himself with boots on the ground from time to time, the people he trusted were right there with him. "They're family," he'd explained one time and she knew what that meant to him.

Now she was afraid that he'd lost that and she had no idea what to say. She'd never been particularly good at finding the right words to fill the awkward silence following a disaster she couldn't fix. She was good in a fight. She was good on a case. Something winnable. This…. she couldn't do anything for him besides be there and support him, but that never felt like enough. Too often she brushed past, opting instead to focus on anything tangible, but not here. She couldn't do that to him here.

Logan had barely touched the slice of pizza sitting in front of him, but his wine glass was almost empty. Veronica reached over to the bottle and poured the same amount she tended to reserve for his impromptu deployments: up to the lip of the glass. He shot her a look at that and she shrugged, finally pulling a mirthless snort that was close to a chuckle as he was capable of giving her in that moment. He reached over and she took his hand readily, feeling his fingers close around hers, his wedding band cool against her skin. He heaved a sigh, squaring his shoulders a little as he started to speak. "You know, right after I woke up in the hospital my first thought was shit, I bet that explosion just fucked my hearing. Woulda grounded me instantly."

"You got cleared on that three visits ago," Veronica murmured.

"Right? Didn't lose a limb, didn't damage my eyes or ears. I was lucky. I know I was lucky." She shifted on the bar stool and reached up tentatively, her freehand resting on his thigh. He tried for a smile and failed miserably. "I just couldn't pass the physical."

The words were like a knife to the gut and Veronica tightened her hold with both hands, feeling his own fingers around hers and he squeezed his eyes shut. He was done. They were taking his wings. They were taking the thing from him that had helped him find purpose in and that he'd devoted his adult life to.

She had taken it.

Veronica scooted off the stool and wrapped her arms around him, her forehead pressed against his arm as hot tears streaked down her cheeks. She felt as much as she heard him choke back a sob as he reached to hold onto her arm, his entire body trembling under the strain of it all. He'd fought so hard, but even he couldn't fight hard enough to win this one.

"I'm so sorry," she heard herself say, the words tumbling out again and again, faster and more desperate each time until he turned on his seat and suddenly he was standing there, his arms around her too and pulling her in.

He didn't say anything and her apologies eventually dwindled to get swallowed up by the sobs that still shook her. She felt his hand tangled in her hair, though, stroking it gently and he had her pulled close in that way that had always been meant to comfort. Even now, even after being responsible for this, he was trying to comfort her in whatever way he could manage. It wasn't fair.

She felt him pull in an unsteady breath and kiss the side of her head before leaning back. His eyes were rimmed red, the lines in his face a little deeper than usual with the strain of trying to hold himself together. "Veronica," he said firmly, even if his voice was rough. He waited until she met his gaze. "This is not your fault."

"Bullshit," she managed and swallowed hard, determined not to let another wave of sobs break free. "He was after me and he nearly killed you. I knew. Back in college I knew how dangerous this was. It's why I left. It's why I didn't come back until…"

"Till I asked you to."

"I knew this job was dangerous. Not just for me, but for everyone around me. Everyone I love. I went back to it anyway. I could have used my degree at a firm in San Diego or LA and lived here, but I was….so selfish. I knew I was putting everyone -" No, that's not right, Mars. If you're going to start, you better damn well own it."That I was putting you in danger. I did it anyway. I did this."

"No," he choked out, fresh tears building in his brown eyes and she hated that even now he was trying to defend her.

"This is my fault!" she shouted and lost the battle with her own will as she folded forward, unable to drag in enough air to satisfy her lungs.

He pulled her back in and held her close. "Don't ever apologize to me for being who you are. You're good at what you do and I…. I wish it weren't as dangerous as it is. You know I wish it wasn't, but that's for you. What happened to me is Epner's fault, not yours." She felt his finger under her chin, guiding her to look at him again. "You hear me?"

"Yeah," she said smally.

"You believe me?"

"I want to."

That pulled the tiniest of smiles from him and he leaned forward, kissing her forehead. "I love you. The Navy was everything once, but you…. I love you. I've loved you over half my life."

Veronica sniffed hard. "What now?"

He leaned down, catching her lips with his like that was his answer, and the moment she kissed him back he was lifting her off the floor. Veronica wrapped her legs around him and she could taste their tears in the kiss as he carried her back to the bedroom. He wasn't going to magically be okay with losing his career just like she wasn't going to instantly be able to - appropriately or not - redistribute the guilt she was feeling onto Penn Epner, but she could be there for him. And maybe, in time, she'd find a way to be a little better at that.

---------

The world didn't stop just because Logan felt like it should have. There were things to do, papers to sign, and - worst of all - a call he dreaded making. Thankfully he managed to hold it together on the Skype call with his squad, even if Riley of all people looked on the verge of breaking down. Riles wasn't the only one that reminded him that just because he didn't ship out with them didn't make him any less their family or them his.

Veronica spent the first few days after he got the news close by. She didn't ask him to talk about it, but listened when he wanted to . Even that couldn't go on forever, though, and eventually she started slipping out to the office. The bombing case had put Mars Investigation on the map even outside of Neptune and calls were coming in from all of the country. She wasn't taking anything out of town just yet, but Keith wasn't able to carry to load himself, even with the adjustment to his medication that had helped his memory issues. It was fine. Probably better than fine. Hopefully it meant that she was starting to accept that this really wasn't her fault.

Logan wasn't sure how long a person was supposed to take to mourn the loss of their career, but he was pretty sure he was due at least a few more days of moping. Dick hadn't agreed with him on that and had shown up on his doorstep with a surfboard and a chest full of beer that morning to drag him out to the beach. Well, it had always helped him clear his head when he was younger.

It was bordering on noon when he and Dick trudged their way back to where they'd left their things to find Veronica had brought her own beach towel and was stretched out with a magazine on cameras. She flashed him a bright smile. "Hiya, handsome."

"Always knew you had a thing for me, Ronnie," Dick chirped at his side and Logan rolled his eyes, elbowing the other man in the ribs.

"Hey. You calling it a day already? Careful, or someone's going to accuse you of keeping '09er hours."

"Well, I did marry one," she answered him with a wink.

Dick snorted and Logan elbowed him again before he had a chance to add to his earlier comment. He feigned injury. "That's what I get for trying to cheer you up, man."

Logan's lips stretched into an almost-smile. "Thanks."

"Anytime." Dick turned his attention back to Veronica. "You got him?"

"I do indeed," she answered cheerfully and popped to her feet. "You -" she directed at Logan this time - "go hop through the shower, then I'm kidnapping you."

"What for?"

"You'll see."

He glanced at Dick, looking for any hint he might give, and the blond shrugged.

"You think I'm dumb enough to give him details?" his wife laughed. "C'mon. We're on the clock."

Logan gave up trying to figure it out and did as he was told. Twenty minutes later he was showered and dressed, being ushered out to the convertible he'd bought four months before when he'd been cleared to drive again and it became clear that Veronica couldn't continue giving up her car or all of her time to make sure he made all of his doctors' appointments. He tried to swipe the keys from her, but she just smirked as she hopped into the driver's seat. "You don't know where we're going."

"Would if you'd tell me."

"Where's the fun in that?"

They worked their way through the back roads and he could tell she was trying to throw him off, but he knew the town too well and recognized the roundabout path she was taking to the private airport on the edge of town that Duncan's family used to fly their private plane out of. He didn't bother asking why, but settled into the passenger seat a little deeper and tried to push back the twinge of pain that the roar of a Gulfstream climbing overhead stirred in him.

"Veronica…" he started, suddenly finding himself utterly sapped of energy and wanting nothing more than to go home. They had come out here over the years and watched the planes coming and going. Veronica didn't get nearly as much out of it as he did, but he had loved to go on and on about them, always teasing her that he was going to buy some little single engine one day. She had rolled her eyes at him and told him not to even try it. He'd come close a couple of times, but the judgement would have been strong if he had.

"Trust me?"

He sighed, giving her a sharp nod.

They pulled around towards the hanger and parked off to the side. Veronica kept glancing at him, like she was constantly trying to gauge his mood. He could have saved her some time if she'd just asked: worse by the minute. "I'm really not in the mood to watch them."

"Good, because I thought you might want to fly one." She motioned to where a late 90's model Bonanza sat out on the runway. "You said that you can still fly, just not like the Navy needs you to be able to. I did some research and talked to Riley to make sure I understood everything correctly. He said you had gotten certified in a Bonanza several years ago and all you'd need to do to… re-certify?"

"Get current," he corrected and she nodded.

"Right, that's what he called it."

"Yeah, I just have to do what they call touch-and-goes. Three take offs and landings."

"Super easy, right?"

"Yeah." He felt his lips quirk upward despite his best efforts. "How long do we have her?"

"Unless Riley lied to me and you don't really love this model…. as long as you want?"

Logan stared at her. "You bought me a plane?"

"Well, technically, you bought you a plane, but apparently that marriage certificate means that your finance guy was willing to listen to the crazy idea and set everything up." The beautiful blue gaze of her latched onto him and Logan felt his heart stutter in his chest. "I know it's not a Hornet and I know it won't go mach… whatever, but you'll be in the air." He wasn't sure what his face was doing, but apparently it caught her by surprise. "Shit… do you hate? Is it too soon? I just -"

He leaned in, the kiss cutting off whatever she was going to say and he lifted her up off the ground and spun her a little before letting her feet drop back down and begrudgingly releasing her. Oh. That's it, he realized as he blinked through blurred vision. Tears could definitely give the wrong impression. "I love it," he swore. "It's perfect."

"You're not just saying that?"

"No. You wanna go up?"

She flashed him a bright smile. "See you fly first hand? Absolutely. I think we have to talk to the guy in the office before we just take off in it though."

"Probably so," Logan chuckled and caught her hand in his, pulling it up to press a quick kiss to her knuckles before starting into the hanger. The aftermath of the bombing, recovery, and his eventual medical discharge had been more than he could have ever handled alone, but he had her. Through all of it and for whatever came next. They'd figure it out together.

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

Notes: So, fun fact: my dad has been a pilot all my life and when I was little (and it didn't break the bank to do it) he used to rent Bonanzas to fly us to different places. I have some very early and very fond memories of those flights, so when I needed a single engine for Logan to be certified in, that was my go-to.

[ellewritesathing]

So Close - S.S. XVI

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Prologue - S2E1 Part 1 - S2E2 + S2E3 Part 2 - S2E4 + S2E5 + S2E6 Part 3 -  S2E7 +S2E8 Part 4 - S2E9 + S2E10 Part 5 - S2E11 + S2E12 Part 6 Part 7 - S3AE1 Part 8 - S3AE2 + S3AE3 Part 9 - S3AE4 Part 10 - S3AE5 + S3AE6 Part 11 - S3AE7 + S3AE8 Part 12 - S3AE9 + S3AE10 + S3AE11 Part 13 - S3AE11 + S3AE12 Part 14 Part 15 - S3BE1 + S3BE2 Part 16 - S3BE3 + S3BE4

Word-count: 3.5k+

A/N: nano’s lowkey kicking my butt but i’m super excited to get back to writing fics when december comes around

“You know, I really hate driving on this thing,” you mumbled as you took off your helmet. Scott took it from you as you shook out your hair. “I mean, look at this. My hair’s a mess.” 

He didn’t answer and you were about to complain some more when you saw him walking around the bike to talk to the twins. What were they doing back? 

“You’re back in school?” he asked them. 

“No, just to talk,” Ethan said as you stood next to your brother. He cast a quick glance at you before turning back to Scott. 

“Well, I’m not really in the talking mood, so-” you said as you looped your arm through Scott’s. 

“Plus, talking’s kind of a change of pace for you guys,” Stiles interrupted you as he walked up to the group. “Usually, you’re just hurting, maiming, and killing.”

“You need a pack,” Ethan continued like he didn’t hear you and Stiles. “We need an alpha.” 

“Yeah …” Stiles pretended to think about it. “Absolutely not. That’s hilarious though.”

“You came to us for help. We helped.” 

“You beat his face into a bloody pulp,” Stiles argued. “That’s not helping. In my opinion, that’s actually counterproductive.” 

“Seriously, that’s what you guys were doing while I-” you started, pulling on Scott’s arm again.

“Why would I say yes?” Scott asked interrupted. 

“We’d add to your strength. We’d make you more powerful,” Aiden said. “There’s no reason to say no.” 

You rolled your eyes. You liked it better when he wasn’t talking. 

“I can think of one,” Isaac said as he strode over, pointing a finger at them with the same hand that was holding Cora’s. “Like the two of you holding Derek’s claws while Kali impaled Boyd.” 

“Yeah, that was real helpful, guys,” you said sarcastically.

“I don’t know why we’re not impaling them right now,” Cora chimed in. 

Aiden shifted just enough for his blue eyes to shine and his fangs to drop. “You wanna try?” 

You stepped forward and put a hand out to Cora to stop her from engaging. Scott pulled Isaac back by his wrist. You took a deep breath and stepped back so you weren’t in the middle of everything.

“Sorry, but they don’t trust you,” Scott said, diffusing the situation. “And neither do I.” 

He pushed past them and Stiles followed. You started to as well, but stopped when Cora lingered. You grabbed her hand and pulled her away from them, and Isaac trailed after the two of you. 

“I don’t get why you always stick up for them,” Cora said once you were a few feet away. 

“I don’t stick up for them,” you said. “I just don’t want you to all worked up before your big geometry test.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

---

The school was a nightmare. You hated mischief night. As fun as it was to pull pranks and get free candy, it was exponentially less fun to hit with a toilet paper roll on your way to class. You put on a smile for Cora because she was having enough trouble adjusting to high school as it is. The look of relief on her face when Derek called was enough for you to encourage her to ditch the rest of the day. Yeah, she needed to catch up a lot but she also needed to not murder her classmates. 

Noah had come to deliver an announcement to the school and you’d bumped into him in the hallway. The two of you were talking about the book you were reading in English when Stiles came running up to you. 

“The William Barrow?” he asked, bulldozing over your conversation. “The Shrapnel Bomber? Spotted nearby?” 

“Stiles, what are you-” 

“A little closer than nearby, actually,” Noah admitted. 

The frown on your face deepened as your dad blew past with a team of officers, talking about he needed to know where every entrance and exit in the school was. 

“Okay, can either of you tell me what’s going on here?” you asked. Your eyes followed your dad until he rounded a corner. 

Noah told you about the bomb that Barrow set up years ago and then he told you the reason why he did it. The kids on the bus had glowing eyes. And now he’d escaped from the hospital, with the intent to set off another bomb. 

“We, um-” you put your hand on Stiles’ arm after Noah. “We happen to have some friends with glowing eyes.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “You wanna tell ‘em or should I?” 

The original plan was to split up to cover more ground, but at some point you’d met up and gathered Lydia and Allison to tell them what happened. The police already cleared the building but Lydia was sure Barrow was still there, and you had to figure out what to do once he was caught. 

“The bestiary is literally a thousand pages long,” Allison said as she lifted the blinds. “If I’m going to find anything about flies coming out of people’s bodies, it could take me all night.” 

“I’ll help you,” you said. Stiles was giving you a look. “It’ll go by faster that way and it’s not like I can concentrate on my classes with Barrow still out there.” 

He nodded and you started following Allison out the window. 

“And remember,” Lydia said, “The word in archaic Latin for fly is ‘musca.’”

“Got it,” Allison said as she climbed over the ledge. 

“See you guys later,” you smiled and waved at them before following her out.

---

After a good few hours of combing through the bestiary for any mention of flies, Chris got home with dinner. Allison pushed herself up and walked over to the door, throwing a look over her shoulder to you. 

“You coming?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “You go ahead. I’m gonna call Scott with an update.” 

“Okay,” she smiled. “Hey, uh, I know this is awkward, but-” you raised an eyebrow and she laughed. “Never mind. I’ll save you some pizza.” 

“You’re the best.” You grinned at her as she closed the door behind her. You dug out your phone and got up while you waited for it to ring. Voicemail.

“Okay, so Allison and I have basically spent the day doing nothing,” you sighed as you paced. “Well, nothing helpful. Flies are able to carry messages from the dead, but Barrow’s not dead. Beelzebub is the Lord of the Flies, but I think he probably has better things to do than mess with teenagers.” The lights started flickering and you got quieter. “Just call me back, okay?” 

You hung up and walked over to the door, but it wouldn’t open. You tried again but it was locked. You heard something fall over and spun around to find five shadowy figures getting closer to you. You engaged Derek’s knife and called for Allison, but it didn’t help. Fighting didn’t help. 

You heard the Argents yelling your name when they closed in, but they started to sound further away. The room was cold. One of the shadows put their hand on the side of your face. They cradled your face, and you were faintly aware of the burning sensation. Just like you were faintly aware of your screaming. 

You couldn’t pull your eyes away from the glowing orbs just behind the shadow. Or were they in front? They were gone in the instant that you blinked. And so was everything else - except for the darkness. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed between calling Scott and Chris pouring water on your face. You gasped as you woke up and scrambled to get your back against a wall. 

“Y/N, what happened?” Allison asked, trying to get close to you. 

“I- I don’t know,” you said. You were stuttering. You were freezing. “There were five of them. They- they came out of the shadows. They were the shadows-” 

Your phone lit up and you could see Stiles’ name flash across the screen. He could be in danger. You reached for it and got up. 

“I-I have to go,” you said. 

“Y/N, wait-” Allison caught your arm. “What happened?”

“They were wearing black and I couldn’t see their faces. Their eyes were …” you searched for the word. “Haunting. Glowing. Almost like …” 

“Like what?” 

“Fireflies.” 

---

You ran out of the Argents’ apartment building and called Stiles. He didn’t answer. You checked your messages. 

“Hey, so don’t panic,” he started. You hated it when he said that. “I know you hate when I say that but just- just trust me, okay? Barrow was after Kira and we’re on our way to the substation to go save her. It’s no big deal. Call me when you get this.” 

You checked your most recent message. 

“Okay, so you didn’t call me. It’s cool. It’s fine. Scott says you called him but whatever.” He took a breath. “Uh, this is kind of awkward but your dad is kind of taking us into custody because we may or may not have destroyed the power station. If you could meet me at the police station, that would be great. Oh, this is Stiles, by the way. In case you didn’t notice from the-” 

Your phone cut him off and you shoved your phone in your pocket and started heading to the police station. Scott, Kira, Lydia, and Stiles were on their way out when they got there. 

“Oh, so your phone does work?” Stiles asked as you ran up to him. You almost tackled him with the hug you gave him. “Woah, hey, I’m fine. I told you- why are you so cold?” 

“I don’t- just hug me, okay?” 

“Yeah, okay,” he said softly, tightening his grip around you. You pulled away when Scott cleared his throat and handed you his jacket. 

“What happened?” he asked. “You look terrible.” 

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “I don’t know exactly what happened. I was at Allison’s and I called you … and the power went out so I tried to go find Allison. The door was locked and-” you looked up at Kira. “I’ll tell you at home, okay? Right now, I just want to go home.” 

---

Not to sound narcissistic or anything, but considering this was the second time you almost died in six months, you expected a little more concern. But Scott was more concerned about Kira getting her phone back. He even gave her your helmet so she could ride on the bike with him! Sure, you hated that bike but still. A little brotherly concern would be nice. 

“Okay, this one will get you into all of the perimeter doors,” Stiles explained as he handed Scott a key. You stopped sulking in the passenger’s seat and paid attention. “This one into the evidence room. And this one’s for my father’s office.” 

“You didn’t steal these, did you?” Scott asked. You rolled your eyes. 

“No. I cloned them using the RFID emulator,” Stiles answered with a nod. 

“Is that worse than stealing?” Scott asked, frown on his face. 

“That depends on your definition of worse,” you said, leaning over the armrest to get closer to the conversation. “But it’s a lot smarter.” 

“Aww, thanks,” Stiles smiled and looked down at you. You realized just how much closer you had gotten. 

“Uh, Scott, can I ask you something?” Kira asked. She led Scott a few feet away and you moved back to your side of the car.

“So they’re cute together. Don’t you think?” you asked. 

“Who?” Stiles asked. You pulled a face. “Oh, Scott and Kira? I mean, yeah. They’ve both got that sunshine child thing going for them.” 

“Yeah, but-” you stopped when they headed back to the car. 

“Okay,” Stiles grinned at them. “So, now almost everybody’s out dealing with the blackout. But there’s always somebody at the front desk. There’s dispatch and usually a night shifter or two.”

You listened as Stiles explained the plan to the two of them and that he could only be lookout because of the investigation around Noah. That your dad was in charge of. He sunk back in his seat and watched Scott and Kira leave. 

“So you think they’ve got a shot at pulling this off by themselves?” you asked quietly, slumping back in your chair. 

“Oh, not a chance in hell,” Stiles answered. “But Scott goes along with all my dumb ideas so-” 

“Your ideas aren’t dumb,” you said, pushing yourself up. “Reckless, maybe. Never dumb.” 

“You think so?” Stiles asked. 

“Of course.” 

“Listen, we, uh, never really got the chance to talk,” Stiles started. “About, you know, that night our parents were missing … and Scott wasn’t …” 

“I remember,” you said.

“You do? Great, uh …” he took a deep breath. “Listen, I’m really sorry for-” 

A car pulled in front and you pulled Stiles down. Peering over the dashboard, you saw that it was your dad. Stiles was unusually quiet next to you. 

“I’ve gotta go help them,” you whispered. You were so close to him. 

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I understand. I’ll, uh, text Scott.” 

You nodded and made your way into the building. What you were going to talk to your dad about, you had no idea. But you had to try. 

“Dad!” you called after him, pushing through the doors. “Dad! I need to talk to you.” 

Rafael looked surprised to see you. You couldn’t blame him. “What’s wrong?” 

“I just-” you took a breath. You needed something. “Why did you stop coming to see me? I know Willow Creek was a lot closer, but why didn’t you … call? Or text?” 

Rafael looked away and took a deep breath. “Y/N, I … I thought we were in a good place.” 

“We were, but then I got kicked out and you dropped off the map,” you said. “You didn’t even tell me you were coming home.” 

“I didn’t want to have to bring you guys into this,” he explained. “I just wanted-” 

“Wanted what? To do your job and leave?” you asked. “Were you even going to tell us that you were back?” 

You heard the doors open and felt Stiles stop next to you. Rafael was staring at him but you couldn’t look away from your dad. 

“Stiles, what are you doing here?” he asked. 

“I-” 

“I asked him to come,” you said. “Because he’s always been there for me. Just like Noah has always been there for me. Unlike you.” 

You turned to leave and Stiles said he’d be right behind you. You stormed out to the parking lot and sat on the Jeep’s hood while you waited for everyone to finish. 

Stiles was out first, but he didn’t say anything. A few seconds later, Scott and Kira ran out with dumb, goofy grins on their faces. 

“Are you finished?” you asked. 

“Yep! All the pics deleted,” Scott beamed. 

“That was awesome!” Kira was still visibly excited. “I mean, terrifying. Completely terrifying, but kind of awesome! I’ve never done anything like that before. Have you?” 

You choked back some laughter when you saw how quickly Scott’s face fell. 

“Yeah, once or twice,” Stiles said. Kira hummed in acknowledgment. 

“So I guess I should take you home,” Scott said. Kira looked a little crestfallen as they walked away. 

Stiles turned to you. “I guess that’s our cue, huh? After all the excitement of, uh, getting some new emotional baggage to carry around?” 

You laughed pushed yourself off the Jeep. “You know … Cora texted me something about a blacklight party at the loft. If you wanna take your troubled childhood and use it as an excuse to do a little underaged drinking?” 

“I don’t need to use my troubled childhood an excuse for my underaged drinking,” Stiles scoffed. “I’ve got plenty of other reasons to drink underage!” 

You met up with Scott and Kira at the party, but excused yourself to grab some waters for the group. Before anything too crazy happened, you needed to make sure everyone at least had some water in their systems. 

When you got back to the group, however, you found Stiles’ face smeared with luminescent lipstick. You handed the waters out and shoved Stiles’ in his chest. “Seriously?” 

“Y/N, it’s not- it’s not like that!” he yelled over the music. You were already stomping away. 

“I don’t think I care what it’s like anymore,” you said. You laughed. “I mean, honestly, Stiles, I don’t know what I expected. Go have fun with whoever kissed you. Heck, go have fun with Lydia! Just leave me alone.” 

You shrugged him off and went to find wherever they kept the alcohol in the loft. You ended up finding Allison and handed her another drink. She was staring in the direction of Cora and Isaac slow dancing to electro-dance music. 

“Rough night for you, too?” you asked, bumping into her arm. 

“I’m not moping,” she said when she turned to you. “Seriously, I’m not. So don’t pity me.” 

“So this doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Scott’s here with Kira and you thought Isaac was into you until he asked Cora out?” you asked, downing your own drink. 

“Maybe,” she admitted. “Okay, give me that. I’m not moping sober.”

“That’s the spirit!” you laughed. 

“Wait, why are you moping?” she asked a few drinks later. “And why is Stiles dancing with some girl in a wig?” 

“I’m moping because he’s dancing with some girl in a wig,” you said. “God, I can’t believe I just said that out loud.” 

“So you’re seriously saying you’ve never told anyone how you feel about him?” Allison asked, laughing slightly. 

“I’m saying that …” you sighed. Looking around the room. “That I need to find Lydia. How long has it been since you saw her?” 

“I don’t know … a little while ago.” She frowned. “You’re right. We should find her.” 

You got lost in the crowd and eventually found Stiles racing out of the loft. You grabbed his arm. 

“Hey, have you seen Lydia?” you asked. 

“Seriously, you’re still mad at me about that?” he asked. 

“No- well, yes. But I haven’t seen her since we got here and I’m really worried about her,” you said. 

“I’m sure she’s just making out with Aiden somewhere,” he sighed. “Is that all? Because I’ve gotta go.”

“Where are you going?” you asked. 

He sighed again and pulled out a key. It was glowing under the UV light. “To figure this out.”

---

The sun had started to come up by the time you and Stiles broke into the chemistry classroom. Stiles closed the door carefully behind you and then went to the supply closet. His mystery key fit perfectly. 

“Stiles, that doesn’t mean anything,” you said gently. 

“What? You’re talking to me now?” His words were harsh but his voice was quiet. He was confused. Hurt. 

You watched him go up to the blackboard and take a piece of chalk. He wrote matching atomic numbers next to the originals. His handwriting was an exact match. 

“Does that also not mean anything?” he asked. His voice was shallow. 

You put your hand on his and took the chalk out of his grip. “Hey,” you said gently. “Look at me, okay? Stop looking at the numbers.” 

He did. There were tears in his eyes. “I thought you were mad at me?” 

“I was,” you said. “But I think I was just jealous. It doesn’t matter now.” 

“You forgive me?” he asked. 

“I-” you looked down. And you realized that you did forgive him. He’d done nothing wrong. “I understand that it wasn’t your fault. There’s nothing to forgive.” 

“There’s a lot to forgive,” he said. “Y/N, I- I’m scared. I don’t remember doing this. I’m getting worse.” 

“I know,” you said softly. “So am I. I think Allison’s the only one that's not … not falling apart.”

“I’ve been having these nightmares,” he started. He shook his head and scratched his neck. “I don’t know. Can you still call them nightmares if they happen when you're awake? Or when I think I'm awake. Am I awake?”

“As awake as I am,” you said. 

You reached for his hand when he started picking at his nails again. They were a little bloody and ragged looking, but that didn't matter to you. 

“You promise?” His voice was small and it trembled with every word. He looked like a scared little boy. 

“No matter what.” 

You squeezed his hands and pulled him into a hug. When he pulled away, his hand was cupping your jaw. He ran a hand through your hair, finger stopping behind your ear, and frowned. 

“What’s wrong?”  you asked, tilting your head to the side. 

“Nothing.” His eyes snapped up to meet yours. “Nothing at all.”

You frowned. He was acting strange. “You’re sure nothing's wrong? Cause you’re acting a little-” 

“Actually, I’ve gotta go,” he said. He pulled away and started heading for the door. “I can’t do this.”

“Do what?” You asked, walking behind him. He was going so fast. “Stiles, you drove me here. Stiles!”

But he was gone when you reached the hallway.

“Great,” you mumbled. “Looks like I’m walking home.”

Part 17

[unofficialkfamtranscripts]

King Falls AM - Episode Thirteen: Crop Circle Jerk

View on Google Docs Summary: November 1, 2015 - An emergency at Libbydale Farms has Deputy Troy and King Falls AM on high alert. Mysterious lights? Check. Crop Circles? Check. Intergalactic Gang War? Stay tuned to 660 on the AM Dial to find out.

[podcast intro music]

[S&B show intro]

Ben Good evening! You’re listening to King Falls AM – that’s 660 on the radio dial.

Sammy Folks, we are jumping right into it tonight. We got Deputy Troy on the line, live from Libbydale Farms. Hey, Troy, can you hear us alright?

Troy Loud and clear, Sammy. Heard you real fine, too, Ben.

Ben [muttered] Suck an egg.

Sammy Okay. So, Troy. Tell the listeners what you just told us right before we went on air.

Troy Ladies and gents, in all my years— and I mean all of ‘em— I ain’t never seen anything like this! Not even comparatively close to what I’m lookin’ at right this instant. [faint sounds of police radio in bg]

Ben POINT. GET TO IT.

Troy Gosh darnit, Ben. I’m trying to sell the magnitude of what I’m feastin’ my eyes on!

Ben Who even knew you could see Libbydale Farms from so far out in the Kiss Ass Sea aboard the SS Backstabber.

Troy You know G-D well I’m not on a ship nor would it be called the SS Backstabber if I were. Don’t be so damn sore, Ben! Everybody knows I’m sorry! Plus- [kinda shyly] I reckon my ship be called the- USS Super Badass.

Sammy *pointedly clears throat* Troy. Ben. Let’s put our differences aside and let’s get to the matter at hand. So, Troy, you’re live at—?

Ben & Troy Libbydale Farms…

Troy & Ben I’m trying to talk!

Sammy GUYS!

Troy A-a-as I was sayin. I’m out here at the farm and out past the barns just hours ago, Old Man Libbydale called us in, and acres upon acres, boys, have been De.Stroyed out here.

Ben [accusingly] Where were yoouu, earlier this evening, Troy?

Troy Using my keen detective skills and ninja-like mental agility, I can see you’re trying to place me at the scene of the crime, little buddy. However Ol’ Troy was sawin’ logs next to the Mrs. before. my. shift.

Ben While crimes are being committed? *scoffs* Typical.

Troy Now that’s a low blow just be—

[shouting over each other] Ben NO! NO! Troy —low my pistol belt— Ben YOUU— N— TROOYY!— Troy — Ben come on— Ben — T— OHH Troy — this ain’t about the farm— Ben [mocking] OHH YEAHHH- OHHH YOU’RE SOOO— Troy — and you know— Ben —GOOD AT FIGHTING—

Sammy GUYS! GUYS! [“break it up kids”/dad-voice] I understand there’s renewed intensity between you two, but Ben, as co-host of this show and a respected journalist— put it away. Troy, you’re the first friend of the Sammy & Ben Show and a deputy sheriff. You guys don’t have to be best buddies, but let’s please report- on the news story- at hand.

Troy Couldn’t have said it better myself, Sammy.

Ben [hissed] Jesus.

Sammy So, Troy. Old Man Libbydale called you out— Acres of his lands destroyed. How so?

Troy Y’all ain’t gonna believe it, but you know I always shoot you straight… Two words: Crop. Circles.

Sammy [incredulous] Crop circles?

Troy It’s like a live action Led Zeppelin album cover as far as the eye can see! Big ones, little ones. The craziest damn designs you ever could imagine.

Ben Troy, I assume you and the rest of Gunderson’s thugs— I-mean-”deputies”— inspected the circles, and the surrounding areas, for man-made tools? There have been stories that men with boards tied to ropes can replicate what people believe crop circles to look like. Bending the crops at the right angles, etcetera… did you find—

Troy Didn’t find anything, Ben. Not a board… not a footprint… nothin’ but hunched over crops.

Ben So you think—?

Troy Oh, there isn’t a doubt in my mind it’s from the UFOs or those lights. I mean, whichever you wanna call it. No man made these! And in just a few hours to boot!

Sammy Okay. So, has this ever happened here before, Ben?

Ben No! Nor abductions! Not even lights being so close to town. The past few months- have been a hotbed for extraterrestrial activity— it would seem.

Sammy “It would seem”? So you aren’t certain?

Ben *scoff/laugh* I only said “it would seem” so you wouldn’t get all defensive about it.

Sammy Okay, alright. Well, as much as I hate to say it, I definitely feel there’s a lot more than meets the eye here in Kings Falls.

Ben I’m not one to say “I told you so”… But I DID tell you so!

Troy Just so everybody out there knows: Libbydale Farms is private property. So, unless you’re doing the dairy farm tour in mornin’, this is not an attraction for looky-loos. There is an official investigation still ongoin’ here. Plus, don’t nobody need another person gettin’ snatched up by the Martians either.

Ben *smug snort* Martians are from Mars, Troy. They aren’t representative of all extraterrestrials?.

Troy [defensive] Whatever— Ben Nye the Science Guy. I’m headin’ out to the field again. I might not be smart as Ben about the aliens and such, but I can definitely sniff out a spot where the Williams boys will come lookin’ for Mischief and Mayhem. [click]

[dial tone]

Sammy Deputy Troy, folks. Now, I didn’t realize you and Troy were still so angry at one another, Ben. You can’t let that hostility clou—

Ben THANKS, DAD! — We’re just gonna take a break to hear from one of our fine sponsors. Maybe Sammy here can talk to me about the birds and the bees after we get back.

Sammy [quietly] Maybe…

[disquieting, melancholic piano music]

Soft, disquieting voice What if what you thought wasn’t really what you thought you thought? … Ever think of that? … Here at the Institute of Science, we can help you become what you’ve always wanted to become… A better you, for a better mankind! Call us today for a free brochure and a C-meter reading. That’s “C” as in “cat.” … We’re coming King Falls… Be well! … And be ready.

[piano fades out]

[S&B theme]

Sammy You’re listening to King Falls AM and we are opening up the phone lines to you. 424-279-3858.

Ben We’ll be talking about the apparent crop circle- situation at Libbydale Farms. As well as if any of you out there have had any experience with this phenomenon.

Sammy So give us a call or tweet us @kingfallsam. So, you’ve heard our story, now let’s hear yours.

Ben Line 3.

Sammy Good evening, you’re live with Sammy and Ben.

Cynthia Good evening? For who? Certainly not King Falls!

Sammy Hi, Cynthia. How ‘bout you tell us how you really feel tonight.

Cynthia Weellll, to be honessst, I’m a little rattled over these gang signs the aliens are leaving on our turf. Literally.

Ben Cynthia— there is no way to tell if those circles are- angry orrr happy! even. They’re *huff/laugh* just symbols.

Cynthia So’s a swastika, Ben Arnold. Get your head out of your tuchus!

Sammy Okay, obviously, we aren’t trying to raise alarms here, Cynthia. It’s just, uh— it’s an interesting story. Especially here in our backyard. Would you not agree? Uh, you know, it’s not every day you can see this kind of handiwork – man-made or otherwise.

Cynthia You two sound sooo happy. We’re getting tagged in an intergalactic war and all of us in the Falls are sitting around at ground zero.

Ben I- don’t think that’s fair t—

Cynthia That’s the problem! You just. don’t. think! It’s all Tim Jenson’s fault, I just know it. We didn’t have any flying saucer, land-tattooing bedlam before he chased those lights.

Ben He didn’t “chase” anything! He was driving from work and called to report on a breaking news story.

Cynthia Watch your tone, Ben. I’ll buy one of those rabid, disease-ridden sugar flyers and toss it in Lake Hatchenhaw. just to spite you!

Sammy Goodnight, Cynthia.

Ben Sugar glider. And- they are. illegal.

Cynthia So are illegal aliens, but you’re just getting ready to throw ‘em a parade! I can’t! I just can’t! [click]

[dial tone]

Sammy Heh, alright, uh… Line 12, you’re live on King Falls AM.

Emily Hi, Sammy! Hi, Ben!

Ben Emily! I–I didn’t realize you were back in town!

Emily I just got back. I was listening on the way in! My mom and I actually drove by the farm and saw all the commotion over there. Police; reporters— big lawn-mower thingies…

Ben Lawn mowers?

Sammy Uh, y’ know, if you don’t mind me asking, Emily, why were you out of town?

Emily Oh, I flew out to Buford, Wyoming,[1] for the annual small town librarian expo! And I had my mom pick me up from the airport since— Ben was on the air.

Sammy Wow. So you guys are in the taking and picking up from the airport stage of yourrr—

Ben Friendship. Is that the- word- you’re- searching for, Sammy?

Sammy [kinda smug] Thaaat was exactly the one, Ben.

Emily *soft laugh* You guys are so silly. But I just wanted to say “hi” and tell Ben I’m back home now!— Oh! And starting next week, I’ve got a whole bunch of fun activities I learned from the expo to start doing at the library! Hopefully we can get some of the scared kids back now.

Ben I’ll call you later, Emily.

Emily Goodnight, Ben! Night, Sammy!

[click, dial tone]

Sammy Emily Potter, ladies and gents. King Falls Librarian and Ben’s… Friend.

Ben [shyly] Yeah-yeah… Lucky Line 1, you’re on King Falls AM.

Greg Hey, guys! It’s Greg Frickard!

Sammy Hi, Greg! You know, we appreciate you running the ads on the show, sir. It’s so nice to meet youuu… uh, over the phone, of course.

Greg Thanks, Sammy! I— think— we’ve- talked before, and uh, glad to run the spot! Me and Granny Frickard love the show! You should hop on down to the Froggery and we’ll hook ya up!

Sammy I might have to take you up on that offer, Greg!

Greg We’d love to have you! You too, Ben…

Ben Greg, you’re a lifelong King Falls resident… w-we’ve been talking about the crop circles out at –

Greg Oh I know. I’ve been listening, but— I was actually calling about- sssomething else— if that’s okay.

Sammy Uh, yyyeah. Sure thing, Greg. What’s on your mind?

Greg Well, I heard Ben and Miss Potter a second ago and they made a— declaration of friendship? Is that correct?

Sammy Oh! U-uh. Is- this about Emily?

Ben [suspicious] Did you- call before, when Emily was in the studio, Greg?

Greg Uh, noo… *nervous laugh* that must have beeeen… somebody else. But is that true, Ben? Are you and Miss Potter just friends?

Ben [terse] Good friends. *tsk* Close. Friends… Real close.

Greg Huhhh! … Well th- okay! That’s all I needed to know! Thanks a million, buddy.

Sammy Hey— Greg. You didn’t have a comment orr—

Greg Oh, no, no! I j— *chuckles* I don’t know the first thing about crop circles and— what-have-you. Uhh, it’s real interesting and all! but- Miss Potter’s lovely voice just… [sighing dreamily] speaks to me. I always just assumed that Ben and Emily were… “bf” and “gf” respectively, *laughs* but… if that’s not the case, thennn…

Sammy Ben? You okay?

Ben I don’t like putting our— personal lives out there in the public eye…

Greg Well, gee, Ben, I’m— only asking because ifff you’re into friendship with the lovely Miss Potter, and— I’m afraid, uhhh, I might just have to be into courtship. *chuckle* Granny wants to see me married before going into the great By-and-By—

Ben Bye-bye to you too! Greg. Looks like we lost line—

Greg I’m still here, pals! Now about that thing—

Ben [click, dial tone] Line 7, you’re on King Falls AM?

Sammy Did you just hang up onnn—

Ben I would never. LINE 7.

Herschel I’d like to place a complaint, rrright this instant.

Sammy Herschel?

Ben Is everything okay, Mr. Baumgartner?

Herschel Would I call into you nincompoops if everything was hunky-dory?

Ben I guess not… No.

Sammy So, what seems to be the issue, Herschel?

Herschel All this yackin’ about G-D UFOs and crop circles, for starters. Makes my damn d[bleep]k itch.

Sammy Sir! This is—

Herschel Did you call me to tell me what to think, comrade? Or did I call you to talk about an issue?

Sammy Please continue, Mr. Baumgartner…

Herschel Thank you. So, I’m out on the lake tonight— got up brright and early, so I could make sure I got my special spot.

Ben “Got up early”? It’s— just now a little past 2…

Herschel You the sleep police?! Ya little bastard… I thought not.

Ben Sorry, Herschel.

Herschel So I’m trollin, out on the… well. That parts Top Secret, boys. But I’m trollin, so I don’t scare the bigguns away, and those g[bleep]ddamn sons of b[bleep]chin’ rainbow lights start blowin’ through the sky. Looked like Joseph’s Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat[2] was fightin’ that big Jap lizard!

Sammy Godzilla? Please don’t use derogatory wor—

Herschel McCarthy[3] would’a skinned your ass alive, you Red[4] sack ‘a sh[bleep]t! Can I tell my story?!

Sammy Of course, I’m just asking you not to—

Ben [quickly] I’m on the button. Sammy. Heh. Herschel’s gonna Herschel!

Sammy Okay. So, you saw the lights tonight…

Herschel Saw ‘em? Hell. They scared the literal piss out of me. Got a trickle down my Carhartts[5] look like the state of Florida. I’m out here naked as a jaybird! Not a fish in sight.

Ben I’m sorry, did you just reference a musical, Mr. Baumgartner?

Herschel Oh, just ‘cause I like some colorful metaphors, means I can’t be refined, Ben?!

Ben I wasn’t— I didn’t– im-imply— I’m-I’m just saying—

Herschel [softly, for Herschel] Ol’ Mrs. Baumgartner, (god rest your sexy soul, Edna), used to love those hippy-dippy singing plays. And I’d do anything to keep in those pants, fellas.

Sammy Oh, god.

Ben Awww. [pleading] Can we get back to the lights?

Herschel That Edna. Oh, lemme tell ya… Oh! Uh, yeah– the damn lights! Yeah, so, I saw ‘em. What the hell else am I supposed to tell ya about it?!

Sammy Well, you were calling to complain about them, I’m sure.

Herschel That’s right! I’d like to report that no-good drunkard! Cecil Sheffield! Called that cumbersome ass-wart damn near 15 times to come bring me a pair of skivvies to no avail! Avoiding my calls and his duties as the co-winner of this damn boat!

Ben It’s— so late, Mr. Baumgartner. I’m-I’m sure he’s sleeping now.

Herschel You would take up with him!

Sammy W-well, Ben’s just sayin’ that he isn’t avoiding you so much as he’s, you know— probably asleep.

Herschel Sleeping one off! Soggy son of a b[bleep]h. He knows if I ring the special line, it’s a damn emergency.

Ben So, you guys have made up?

Herschel Made up my ass! If he’s gonna be “co”-anything with Herschel F. Baumgartner, that tally-whacker’s gonna have to keep up his end of the bargain.

Sammy To be at your beck and call in case you… soil yourself…

Herschel Don’t be crass!

Ben So, you guys are actually sharing the boat? That’s awesome! I figured you only—

Herschel I ain’t sharin a damn thing with that son of a b[bleep]h! Stop stirrin’ the pot or I’ll make what Charlie did to John McCain look like foreplay, Ben Arnold!

Sammy So, to the point. You’re calling to complain about Cecil because he’s sleeping through your time of need?

Ben But! He is corroborating seeing the lights, Sammy! That’s a big deal.

Herschel Just have an intern or something bring me some britches and stop fiddle fu[bleep]ing fuss! 32 long! I’ll be at Begley’s. He’s probably peering out his window lookin for a damn show… I don’t like beige! [click]

[dial tone]

Sammy You’re on King Falls AM with Sammy and Ben.

Riley Please hold the line for Mayor Grisham.

Sammy This again?

Ben *groans*

Sammy You know, I wonder, do you wake him when we say special keywords, or…?

Riley Mayor? You’re on with Sammy and Ben.

Grisham Sammy. Ben. I hate to rain on your little topic of discussion tonight, but let’s shut it down. It’d be much appreciated.

Ben What??

Sammy The always-fair, Mayor Grisham, folks. Remember this come election time next year.

Grisham Do you think that a public servant should have to call the local “Tom & Joe Chucklehut Show” to ask them not to jeopardize a police investigation?

Sammy Do you ever call Channel 13 and tell them what to report and how? We are a topical late night talk show, Grisham.

Grisham Mayor.

Sammy I didn’t vote for you.

Grisham Fair enough. I don’t expect you to respect anything but your own pathetic grab for ratings. Now, regarding Channel 13—

Ben Sorry, Mayor. Obviously, Sammy is flustered. He wouldn’t have used such a bad example if he was thinking straight—

Grisham The answer to your question, Sammy, is no. I wouldn’t call in and tell a reputable news agency how to do their job. BUT, amazingly enough, I continue to have to ask you to stop your rhetoric— seemingly once a month or so. Interesting, don’t you think?

Ben You do realize the only people that watch Channel 13 are drunks that can’t find the remote and animals left alone with the TV on, right?

Grisham Whatever helps you sleep better, Ben. I can tell you for a fact that, right now, Storm Sanders is probably not working a “local yokel” interview and digging up the muck. He’s reporting on city ordinance 29.44371.

Ben Storm is knee deep in a barrel of backyard bathtub hooch during commercial breaks.

Sammy So, Mayor. What is this ordinance? Ya know, since we aren’t reporting the news to your liking, give us a glimpse into what works for you.

Grisham The add-on to the local YMCA? The new menu over at Rose’s! I’m not paid a handsome salary to do your job.

Sammy Oh, right! I forget you think you can dictate what we report on, for free.

Ben Sammy… they’re destroying the crop circles! That’s the ordinance!

Grisham There’s hope for you yet, Ben. Don’t go down with this ship. I’ll put a good word in for you elsewhere.

Sammy You son of a b[bleep]h! You’re destroying the crop circles?! That could be the only thing that brings Tim Jenson home!

Grisham Don’t bring Tim Jenson into this! The city is paying Libbydale Farms a fair share for their remaining crops! But it is in the public’s best interest to mow down this batch of mischief accordingly! Especially after this broadcast.

Sammy *derisive scoff/laugh* You are despicable.

Grisham These affairs aren’t your business to ramble on about… Do the weather! Talk about traffic! I mean, I filled those potholes! Stop making trouble!

Sammy Freedom of the Press. When your assistant isn’t typing out our every word, maybe have her look it up and tell you all about it.

Grisham I can’t wait to hear about it! And here’s a little phrase for you to look up too! OBSTRUCTION OF JUSTICE.

Sammy Uh-huh.

Grisham Do you think using your connections to officers of the law to report on “breaking news” is fine and dandy, Stevens?? *sniffs* You are perverting the course of this case. Things— especially ongoing issues— aren’t meant to be talked about until all the facts are out there! And you— *sniffs* IDIOTS are playing on the scene, reporting with your bagel-eating buddy! who happens to be a cop.

Ben *scoffs* ‘s not my buddy.

Sammy BEN.

Ben I’m not throwing you under the bus, Sammy. I just hate Troy.

Grisham So, the moral of the story would be, gents… some things require couth. Some things require kid gloves when handling. And most things don’t need to be aired in the public for ratings and entertainment. A perfect example being how, I’m sure Sheriff Gunderson will handle Deputy Krieghauser on his own, for calling into this joke of a show with police business constantly. Doubt you’ll see that done during a press conference.

Ben Uh… is that… really necessary, sir?

Grisham This show is a breeding ground for incompetence, and you’re now dragging your pals down with you. Straighten Up and Fly Right.

Sammy Troy doesn’t need to be punished for you to make your point, Grisham.

Grisham Out Of My Hands… I’ve already had Riley send my opinions on it over to the good sheriff! Now again, I ask you: pick a different topic of discussion. Maybe one that won’t lead to the continued pain and misery for all those around you. Night night, fellas! [click]

[dial tone]

Sammy [quickly] I’m gonna call Troy.

Ben Umm, uh *nervous stuttering* W-we’ll be back after this— King Falls. We’ll- we’ll take some- calls about uhh… *helpless scoff* I guess we’ll- see…

[KFAM outro]

[CREDITS]

References

[1] Buford, Wyoming - “America’s Smallest Town”, Buford is mostly just a convenience store/gas station. The population was 1-2 from ~1995 until it was completely abandoned in 2017.

[2] Joseph’s Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat - Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat is a musical comedy with lyrics by Tim Rice and music by Andrew Lloyd Webber. The story is based on the "coat of many colors" story of Joseph from the Bible's Book of Genesis.

[3] McCarthy - Joseph Raymond McCarthy was a Republican U.S. Senator from 1947 until his death in 1957. Beginning in 1950, McCarthy became the most visible public face of the “Red Scare”, a period in the United States in which Cold War tensions fueled fears of widespread Communist subversion. He is known for alleging that numerous Communists and Soviet spies and sympathizers had infiltrated the United States federal government, universities, film industry, and elsewhere.

[4] Red - Communist

[5] Carhartts - Carhartt, Inc., is a U.S.-based apparel company founded in 1889. Carhartt is known for its work clothes, such as jackets, coats, overalls, coveralls, vests, shirts, jeans, dungarees, fire-resistant clothing and hunting clothing.

[loki-hargreeves]

Loki x Reader - You’re a Monster! [PART 2]

Author’s Note: This was supposed to be a one-shot but it turned into a series. Woops! Also, I’m sorry if there are typos! Warnings: vulgar language, mentions of death, angst, mentions of sex Word Count: 3,1K Summary: Loki broke his heart to save you from himself after he was prisoned for life. You believe he never loved you and he believes you’ve moved on. Five years later, you meet at Sakaar again and his fate is in your hands. Somehow, you’re supposed to work together in order to save Asgard, which is easier said than done. You left things messy and you know exactly how to push each other’s buttons.

[PART 1] 

Third POV

It was the second time within a few years that the Asgardians thought Loki, the often forgotten about son of Odin, God of Mischief, was believed to be dead. The truth was, he was posing as Odin. Frankly, Odin had been a mess after Frigga’s passing and Thor was out of the picture. Loki saw that as his chance to rule Asgard, make the people thrive for once. But he also used the position for good, diving deep into things Odin or Thor never could.

Little did anyone know he had a plan. During his time as Asgard’s king, Loki attempted to find out as much as possible about Thanos and his evil plans. He knew the location of three infinity stones, and he wanted to keep them away from the mad titan. Now that Loki was ‘dead’, he could live a little easier. No one was after him. There was only one thing that bothered him, tearing his mind to shreds. And no, it wasn’t the prophecy of Ragnarok he had been hearing about, had nightmares about too.

It was Y/N.

Just the memory of her made his heart ache. No matter how many times he told himself he did the right thing, he knew he was lying to himself. He had somehow hoped that he could see her again. Maybe not as himself but just to spot her. He wanted to see the woman, know that she was well, at least healthy. But that didn’t happen. Months passed and no one had seen her after their breakup. Loki had found out that Y/N had left her engagement ring in their old chambers. She had taken a bag worth of personal belongings, attended Frigga’s funeral, stolen weapons and then disappeared. He never found the book she had made for him. She was gone and it broke Loki’s heart because he knew it was his fault.

Posing as Odin, Loki had tried to question Heimdall about her whereabouts but of course he saw threw the magic. Tragic, really. Loki understood that Heimdall was a threat to his plans – but he was also wise, so after some very messy mutual disagreement and mild agreement, Heimdall ‘disappeared’.

It was just Loki alone for the next few years, wondering if Y/N was even alive. Deep in his heart, he could almost feel that hers was beating somewhere out there.

                     Unbeknownst to anyone, Y/N was putting her nose deep in the same waters as Loki. She hadn’t believed that Loki never loved her. No, it just didn’t make sense in her head, so she had decided to search for answers. After thinking about old conversations with Loki, reading books, contacting creatures from beyond the nine realms, she got on the right path. She learned about Thanos and the so-called infinity stones. Even Thor knew about them, which was great. Somehow, she managed to make Thor keep it a secret that she was travelling with him.

A few years passed and Thor left, following a hunch that had something to do with Sultur. Y/N didn’t go, because she had more important things to do. Besides, she knew Thor would be returning to Asgard and she had sworn not to return ever again. It hurt too much.

Once she was alone, flying through space in a ship she ‘borrowed’, she found herself thinking about Loki. That asshole, she thought but couldn’t find the truth behind those words. After everything she had learned, she was sure he had loved her to some extent. It didn’t mean that what had happened before he died didn’t put her in agony. Their last conversation broke her heart and it would haunt her forever. Thanks to the massive pain that had followed and the torturous truth of what had happened to Loki before, Y/N put up a hard and cold exterior. She had changed, to say at least.

Shamelessly, Y/N had gone as far as sleeping with strangers to lure secrets out of their lips. Some dumb Kree had told Y/N about the elders of the universe, a tale as old as time. Apparently, they were the original bearers of the stones and one of them, the Grandmaster, just happened to have an address, a dumpster realm known as Sakaar. That’s where Y/N went, not really knowing what to expect -except answers.

She landed in the middle of trash, literally, and some funky looking creatures tried to capture her. Y/N had killed them all before they could really bat an eye. She left behind a pile of their bodies but before she could leave, someone else wanted to have a word with her. Y/N had watched as a beautiful woman walked out of her ship with a bottle in her hands. Beautiful leather outfit, black hair which Y/N liked. She was hot, but Y/N knew she could be dangerous.

“You’re coming with me, ‘right?” The woman asked but it sounded like she also answered for her.

Y/N already thought of some magic tricks that were nifty for self-defence, just in case it got to that point. “Are you trying to eat me as well?” Y/N wondered, glancing at the scavengers she had killed. The woman looked at the pile and raised her eyebrows.

“I’m impressed, but no, I won’t eat you. I’m looking for…a fighter, you seem eligible.”

Y/N was honoured but it didn’t mean she’d volunteer as a puppet for whatever fight they needed a fighter for. “Can I thank you no? I’m here to meet someone called the Grandmaster.”

“Ah! I could take you to him.” The woman suggested almost casually.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Y/N still didn’t trust her. So, she walked closer to her, noticing the white paint on her skin, creating a beautiful contrast. “You lead the way; I can follow you with my ship.”

Before Y/N could hardly finish her sentence, she noticed that the woman grabbed something small, probably a weapon. Y/N was quick to grab her dagger and point it at the woman. “Look, you’re pretty and I don’t want to fight-“

“You think I’m pretty?” She smirked, almost cockily, although Y/N had a dagger pointed at her. “Isn’t that sweet of you!”. Although Y/N felt like she should be annoyed, she found herself liking this woman. There was something about her.

“Lead the way, okay? I’m busy and I don’t want to play your stupid game.”

The woman rolled her eyes and put the little weapon back into her purse. “Fine. If you wish to go to him voluntarily, I won’t stop you. Let’s go!”

And just like that, Y/N was led to the Grandmaster by the woman who she learned went by the name Scrapper 142. Y/N decided that she liked her, although she was probably dangerous and plotting a trap for her. Good luck, Y/N thought, she had been with Loki long enough to avoid basic traps. The effort was cute. But then the memory of the Trickster god stabbed her heart and she remembered what she was here for, the infinity stones.

“Oh, you found a pretty one! You never cease to impress me!” The old man smiled happily once he laid his dark eyes on Y/N. He had a blue stripe on his lip and a very sparkly, golden robe. He definitely stood out, even on this planet where no one seemed to know of dark clothes.

Y/N ignored his low-key compliment and she tried to get straight to the point. “Are you the Grandmaster I’ve heard so much about?” Y/N put on a fake but very sweet smile, attempting to flatter the man who seemed to enjoy it. She learned quickly that this Grandmaster was like a powerful dog that had to be fed with compliments – that way they could become friends. Manipulating him shouldn’t be too hard, right?

Well she was both right and wrong. She didn’t end up being a fighter, instead, she got into his inner circle with her charming act and she picked up clues piece by piece. Y/N had to admit the parties could get extreme and waking up in stranger’s beds wasn’t ideal, but she genuinely had fun for once. Perhaps blowing off some steam by partying and mingling couldn’t hurt too much. After all, Y/N had spent the last five years in her shell, surrounded by hate, anger and misery.

Weeks passed by quickly, very quickly on Scrapper 142’s couch. Her actual name was Brunnhilde, she was a Valkyrie. Y/N and Brunnhilde were wasted one night and Y/N saw her tattoo. Sure, there wasn’t much they could hide when they were both naked. Against all odds, they became friends and it was very beneficial to Y/N who never forgot about her plan.

All was well until someone else from Asgard ended up on Sakaar.

Y/N had picked up Brunnhilde’s ways of Scrapping to earn some credits while staying on Sakaar. It was a usual day when she saw something entering Sakaar’s atmosphere and fast. It’s like a bolt of green lightning struck the trash land. Y/N had to check it out.

Her ship landed on the ground only minutes after she saw the green object, or person, she had no idea. No one else had arrived yet which was perfect, she could take her time. Y/N grabbed a weapon that shot out obedience disks. She only needed that and her magic as she walked outside. As usual, there was a horrible stank outside. Space junk and bodies were rotting all around them. Y/N saw a body on the ground, back faced towards her. Once she saw long, black locks and an emerald green cape, she almost turned away and left. That’s when she took a deep breath and reminded herself that Loki was dead. It couldn’t possibly be him, right?

But the closer she got, the more she saw. And sure as hell, it was him. She could recognize his face from thousands of miles away. Seeing him on the ground, completely helpless, covered in small cuts and fresh bruises was almost too much for her. For a moment, she could only stare at him in utter disbelief and shock. The heartache from half a decade ago was returning and it hurt just as much, but she’d be damned to show it.

Whatever the story was behind it, she had to know. But he was unconscious and other Scrappers would love to find him. Biting her teeth together and swallowing her tears, she dragged his weak body into her ship. His scent emerged into her nostrils and reminded her of so many shared nights.

“Get yourself together!” Y/N growled at herself and dumped Loki’s body on the floor of the ship. Perhaps it was a bit harsh, but she didn’t want to hold onto him longer than needed. She didn’t want to soften up for him after what he did.

She locked the entrance to the ship and sat down, resting her head against her hands as she attempted to think. She had no idea how he was alive, what she would do to him or if he was going to hurt her even more. After pondering for a while and feeling how her shock just increased, she had to get answers. Y/N stood up and walked to Loki who was still on the ground. He looked terrified even though he was passed out. It’s like shock was imprinted on his resting face. Y/N wondered what he saw before ending up on Sakaar. Could it be Thanos?

Y/N groaned and pushed those thoughts away. The only right answers would come from him. So, Y/N gently shook him by his shoulder with her foot until he opened his eyes. Loki looked right at her and it was dead quiet around them for a moment. Y/N’s heart yearned for him, she wanted to wrap him into her arms, but she refused to do that. Instead, she put on a stern mask and grabbed the weapon, having no intentions to use it though. She wanted him to know that she was not the woman she used to be.

“Am I dead?”

“Newsflash, Loki! You’re not, but you sure let everyone think so.”

Loki sat up, never taking his eyes off Y/N. He seemed dazed. Flashes of what had happened only a few minutes earlier were fresh on his mind. He remembered Odin’s death, Thor’s rage, Hela. But once he saw her after believing he never would see her again; his mouth went dry. She stood there, looking at him with anger burning in her E/C eyes. Loki could hardly believe his eyes. He didn’t even know what to do. Now, several years later, there was no use in pretending to be the monster he made out of himself, but he didn’t know if he could let go of his regret and beg for forgiveness. Could he put her through that?

He looked away from her judging gaze and he saw the small, odd weapon that was in her hand. It felt like a punch in his gut, she was furious! He had to be careful but at the same time, he almost wanted her to be mad at him.

It became obvious that Loki wasn’t going to break the silence and Y/N was impatient.

“How are you alive?”

Loki remembered the exact moment he almost died. No one would ever know but he actually sacrificed himself to Thor. He could’ve died when Thor left his body on Svartalfheim but something miraculous kept him alive. What it was, Loki wasn’t sure, but he told himself it was his mother from Valhalla. How could he possibly explain the past five years to her? From the moment he broke her heart by telling her that everything they had together, all the good and the bad, were lies. He told her she was amusement for him. Now he felt rotten just thinking back.

“Answer me!” Y/N demanded harshly, taking a step closer to Loki. She put the little disk shooter underneath Loki’s jaw so she could tilt his head up, forcing him to look at her. It was astonishing how he hadn’t gotten up yet to mock her and drag her down. Something terrible must’ve happened before he arrived.

It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to let herself care about that. What they had in the past should remain there.

Loki didn’t flinch when Y/N put the cold metal object against his neck. He didn’t know what it did, and he didn’t want to find it. Although he knew she probably hated his gut, he doubted she’d hurt him. “It’s a long story, Y/N.”

His voice made Y/N’s stomach twist. She hated herself for missing it. She hated that his voice still affected her but the was proud she had learnt to hide her feelings. To him, he looked like a whole new person. Loki looked her up and down and noticed how different she was, even her attire had changed. Y/N was wearing a skin-tight, white bodysuit that hugged her curves just right, long red boots and a dark red cape, much less elegant than Asgardian capes. It was short and rigged. Y/N’s arms were bare, and she wore golden jewellery that spiralled from her wrist all the way to her upper arm. He even saw scars that weren’t there before. They weren’t neat so he figured they came from battles. She had changed.

The biggest difference was her cold and harsh exterior. He looked at her and her face didn’t soften up like before. He knew that he had burnt her innocence and sweetness to ashes. It hurt, more than he wanted to admit.

“You’re not in a hurry, are you? Start talking.” Y/N was getting angry again. The silence was messing with her head. If he didn’t care, why couldn’t he speak? It bothered her that Loki looked at her so carefully. She felt vulnerable.

Loki looked at her neck. He knew they weren’t together anymore but nevertheless, seeing a dark purple, almost red hickey decorating her skin hurt. Seeing that someone else had gotten the pleasure of touching her was like a stab to the heart. She had moved on, hadn’t she? Loki’s throat felt tight. So much was going on and it was too much – even for him. Asgard was in danger but here he was, in Y/N’s ship, his fate in her hands. “Where shall I begin?” He put on a fake smile, putting up the act from five years ago. He was not going to hurt her any further by explaining how he lied. She had gone through enough because of him. Lying furthermore should be smooth, he was the god of lies after all.

“How about you explain how you’re alive and where you’ve been. Maybe, just maybe I won’t throw you in the lion’s den.” By that, Y/N meant the arena. She knew damn well the Grandmaster would pay her a huge sum for Loki, but she also knew Loki could have answers that she desperately needed. “You’re so great with words, aren’t you? You better use them.”

“Someone still cares,” Loki taunted her, putting his best effort into acting like the fool he was before. He was aware it was terrible, but he had no choice. He decided to push her buttons a little bit more, just to study her reaction. “I see you took some Asgardian goods with you.”

“You know I could electrocute you, right?” Y/N pressed the lips of the disc shooter against his neck, only to threaten him of course. Sure, he probably deserved it, but she didn’t actually want to hurt him. Only a few years ago she was the one who stitched up his wounds and washed off his blood. “Besides, Thor gave them to me. Turns out being in good terms with him is quite handy,” Y/N pushed Loki’s buttons as well, knowing damn well how Loki hated that.

Loki pulled his lips into a thin line. The hickey was almost right in front of his eyes now and he believed Y/N did it on purpose, to shove it in his face that she didn’t care at all. Did Thor make it? Loki wished it was anyone else but his brother. Was she over him? Loki believed it – at least to some extent. How could she still care, after everything he put her through? He didn’t just break her heart, he absolutely destroyed it!

But she would never know he did it for her. She was better off without him. Loki told that to himself to make himself feel better. He had to get away from her and fast but it wouldn’t be easy.

“I’ve been on Asgard. Thor broke me out of my cell, begging for my help. It was a perfect opportunity for me to slither out of that little cell. Then I had to get Odin out of the picture…”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Y/N almost yelled. Sure, Odin was a terrible person but she couldn’t imagine Loki killing him. He hadn’t gone that far, right?

Loki rolled his eyes. “I sent him away. He was on Midgard until Thor and I returned to him. He told us about our sister, Hela, who is currently set to destroy Asgard. Then he died-“

“Slow down!” Y/N stopped him. She put the disc shooter away and took a deep breath. She attempted to forget about her personal issues with Loki and tried to focus on Asgard. Were the people in danger? Who was this Hela? Their sister? She had never even heard of her. ”Odin’s dead?”

“I told you, it’s a long story, Y/N.”

[PART 3]

Author’s Note: I feel like this chapter is just building the plot but the next part will be a bit more fun (I hope). What are your thoughts? :) It’s kind of funny how this turned into a series.

Mobile Masterlist ☕ Buy me a coffee?

TAGS: @heather-destler @jessiejunebug @percyjackson886 @scorpionchild81 @snow-massacre (you asked me to fix your broken heart) @yes-honey-work @elliecapper @phluffyphantom

 if you want to be removed/added, just let me know! :)

[pandawritesmanythings]

Halfrid // Part 4

Platonic!Loki x Teen!Reader

Summary: Your life has always been dictated by the fact that you are smarter than most adults. This has made you antagonize many of them, it isn’t your fault that you are just citing facts! However, when the god of mischief becomes your friend, are there enough facts you can cite to prove his innocence?

Warnings: Censored Curse Words, dude being an entitled jerk (not Loki), Angst, Panic attack, bad writing.

Word Count: +4000K

A/N: Thank you so much for the support guys, just a heads up, some things in this chapter may not make sense now, but they will later. I don’t curse, personally, but it was important to have a catalyst in this chapter, that’s why I censored them. Leave feedback, I highly appreciate it!

TAG LIST IS OPEN!!!

PRESENT TIME

“I wish we could have met at a better time. I honestly do.” Fury had returned to the room and you had told him a short version as to why you started to investigate Loki.

“Why do you say that all of a sudden?” You asked, slightly confused.

“You see, I don’t find this kind of fire or passion in agents anymore. If we get out of this, and you are still around, come find me when you are 17, maybe I can find you an internship somewhere you can use your talents.”

He was sincere, you could see it in his eyes… Eye.

“Well, you might be the first. But thank you.”

He cleared his throat, the rumbling above had ceased a bit, according to Fury because the ground above had become a literal war zone. Military aiding the hero’s battle. The enemy ceased fire, but they were sure to resume it at any moment.

“So when was the next time you met the god of mischief?”

You almost giggled. “Ah. That was about six months after. I wish it had been under better circumstances. But the fact that our paths crossed again, is surprising in itself.”

NEW YORK 2015

Both you and Ashley leaned over to be able to look at your crush for a distance.

“We are not staring okay?” “Yeah, we totally aren’t.” You told each other.

You huffed and closed your locker with a thud, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

“I’m not doing it.” You finalized.

“Aw, come on! Be a little courageous!”

“Being courageous is to know your mom may find out that you have been researching Loki for 6 months and still risking it by logging onto, probably, illegal websites and the dark web.”

“Soooooo, she doesn’t check your history anymore?” Ashley mused.

“Not manually, and I may have hacked into her phone so, I have that going for me.” You walked towards the exit, other middle schoolers filing after you.

“Still, if you just go and talk to him-” “Are you CRAZY?” “Don’t interrupt me. If you just ask him to walk you home, maybe then you could at least ask him out!”

“Not all of us have been able to have seven boyfriends on their 12-year life span.” You cocked an eyebrow.

“Oh, come on! I still haven’t kissed anyone. I’m waiting ‘till I’m thirteen!” She chirped.

“Why thirteen?”

“It’s supposed to be the unlucky number, right? That way I can pass my bad luck to whatever jerk deserves it!” She seemed too proud of herself.

“You are a jerk.”

She flipped her hair. “Wow. Thanks!”

You both giggled. Through the months you had learned to read her bull, call her out on it, and she had pushed you to try new things. It was a mutual relationship, she knew where your limits were and vice versa. Yet, in a way, you seemed to balance each other out.

“Anyway. Not all of us have your confidence, Ashley.”

“Well, if you don’t do it, I will.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” You gasped.

“Wanna bet?” She playfully glared at you, and you glared back.

Suddenly she made a run for it, dashing towards the exit where your crush was hanging with his friends. “Malcolm! Hey, Malcolm!”

“ASHLEY FOR THE LOVE OF G O D!”

Your crush turned around as you tackled Ashley onto the ground.

“Hey! You guys okay?”

You froze when you heard his voice. Oh, you were so sure your smile looked like a weird grimace.

“N-Nothing. It’s just someone was about to do a stupid.” You said as you got up and brushed off imaginary dust.

“A stupid?” He asked amusement in his voice.

“Is my constant state of being.” Ashley chirped.

Malcolm, your crush, raised an eyebrow in amusement. Another guy behind him chuckled.

“Well, I think we are all in a pretty similar state.” He smiled looking at his friends.

“You mean, you Malcolm.” The guy behind him called out. “Parker wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Ah, as if you weren’t in that state often Morales.” Malcolm retorted. You knew he was joking, but there was something in his tone that just…

“Actually, my friend wanted to ask you something.” Ashley pushed me towards him.

“No. I don’t.” I squealed.

“What is it?” He asked with a smug grin.

“Umm… I-I…" STOP STAMMERING BRAIN!!! "I-I was wondering…”

“Yes?”

Ashley was dying inside. You definitely needed to work on your communication skills.

“I-I…” She placed a hand on your shoulder. You took a deep breath. “I don’t know if you r-remember, b-but in… science class? Yeah! Science. We have a project together, and since Ashley is already not coming with me home today… I was wondering if maybe you… Wanted to have a coffee? To… Plan the project out! Of course!”

He had a smug grin on his face, but it softened into a smile and he nodded. “Of course, I would love to accompany this lovely damsel in distress…” He winked at you kissing your hand. You pulled it from him, there was a way that he talked that you had never noticed before. However, since you actually did have a project to do, you ignored it and gave him a smile.

“Alright! Well, I’ll wait for you outside. See ya! Yeah… Okay.”

You fled down the stairs and waited patiently for Malcolm to come by so you could start talking. However, you were unaware of the conversation that was going on back there. But Ashley wasn’t. She hid nearby, where she could hear the aftermath of your petition without the boys finding her spying on them.

“Dude! She is really cute.” Ashley heard Miles say.

“And nice, I have Spanish with her and she is always very proper and quick about her speaking. She is really cool.” Peter added.

“I don’t know. See, physically, she isn’t my cup of tea. Yeah?” Malcolm interrupted.

“But, you do know there is more to her than how she looks, right?” Miles questioned, worry in his voice. This was starting to unnerve Ashley. Few boys had ever made her feel a chill go down her spine like this guy. He looked pretty nice on the outside but in private… He didn’t seem that nice.

“Bah, I’ll see. I do have to do the project, so let’s see if she is any good.” He said as he walked out the doors. “And, remember I’m waiting for that science report.”

Ashley had heard enough. She was not gonna let this idiot take you home by any means. She dashed as quickly as she could down the stairs, near where you were furiously typing something on your phone.

“Hey! (Y/N)!”

“Gimme a second Ash, I can’t let myself forget this.” You typed a little more and then turned off your phone. “I suddenly got an idea for a new argument for my essay. I think I almost have the intro down, but I need the first transition and-” Ashley quickly pulled you aside, interrupting you. “H-Hey!”

“Sorry, but I don’t have much time. I don’t think you should go home with Malcolm.” She tried to warn you.

“What? Why?”

“I don’t think he is who he makes out to be.” She continued. “I think he is only going to take advantage of you!”

There was something deep inside you that had been telling you the same thing. But you wanted to believe otherwise.

“Alright, I’ll be careful Ash. Thank you for telling me.” You smiled.

“But… I don’t think you should be around him, I heard him back there, he-”

You interrupted her back. “I know you mean well. But I don’t want to live life thinking the worst of everyone. If he steps out of line, I’ll kick him straight in the groin.”

Ashley let out a nervous breathy laugh. “Just… Be careful, I don’t want you getting hurt-”

“Hey!” A male voice sounded behind you. “Ready to go home, princess?” Malcolm asked taking your hand and placing a kiss to it as he did before. Again, you pulled away. For some reason, that gesture unnerved you.

“Yeah…” You smiled awkwardly. “I’ll call you when I get home, okay Ash?”

“Yeah… Ok. See you (Y/N)” She said masking her worry with a winning smile and a flick of her hair as she walked away.

“So, lead the way.” The boy signalled for you to start walking and, with a timid smile, you started walking towards a coffee shop near your home.

It wasn’t anything unusual. He cracked a few jokes like he usually did in class. Offered to open the door for you when you got to the coffee shop. And although you bought your own drink, he insisted on getting you a snack.

“You can have whatever you’d like.” He smiled. You tried to reject his offering, but he wouldn’t have any of it. In the end, you just asked for a muffin.

He was actually really good at doing research, quickly flying through loads of information and sending them to you as you typed the essentials into the PowerPoint presentation.

“I just need to make it look pretty, but I’ll do it some other time.” You said while saving the presentation and snapping your computer closed. He did the same and got up, pulling your chair gently from behind you so you would stand up.

“Are you ready to go home, then?”

“Yeah, it’s not that far away from here, so I can go by myself.” You smiled while strapping your backpack.

“I don’t mind, I’ll go with you.” He insisted.

In the back of your mind, Ashley’s warning kept sounding off. But you decided that a little bit longer wouldn’t hurt. He had been very kind to you after all. Why not let him take you home? That sounded really nice.

Together you walked out of the quaint little coffee shop and started heading towards your apartment compound.

“So, I heard you were in the WRITE scholarship!” He smiled.

“Yeah… Wait. Who told you that?” Only your parents and Ashely knew. She wouldn’t have told him about it, right?

“I saw you taking out a paper in class, it had: WRITE ideas! Written in a corner.”

“O-Oh…” You blushed.

“I’m working on it myself. Coming along quite nicely. It’s going to be a short story, but I think I might turn it into something bigger later down the line.”

“If mine does any good, I may publish it. But, I don’t think people would want to read about it.”

“Oh! Really? Why would you say that?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s just… It may get a little controversial…” You hid your face.

“Ah. I see, one of my friends is also writing about something controversial. I’m not supposed to say, but being anti-gun control sounds pretty controversial to me.” He whispered in your direction mockingly.

You giggled at his tone. “Ah. Well, she has her beliefs. I think as long as she doesn’t try to use her essay to justify violence, it should be okay.”

“Are you anti-gun control?”

“No. I think people’s safety is way more important than things.” You honestly said. “But she can have her opinion. Honestly, that’s why we have superheroes, to protect us. That way people don’t need that many guns.”

“Yeah. I think I stan Stark the most.”

“Oh, and why?”

“Billionaire? The smartest guy on the planet? All the babes? He has everything.”

You cast your gaze to the ground. Your shoes suddenly being more interesting. 

“I mean. I think he is cool because he saves people. But he just has everything.” He finished

After what seemed an eternity you arrived at the entrance of your building.

“Thanks… For coming with me.” You muttered.

“Nah, no problem.” He smiled. “By the way, can I come in? I need to pee.”

You didn’t want to. You really didn’t want to. But you found yourself nodding and leading him inside your apartment.

“The bathroom is over there… Just- Quickly, my parents shouldn’t be long.”

He ran inside the bathroom, and you walked into the open kitchen. Getting a cutting board out, you started slicing some carrots and boiling some water to make some chicken and potatoes. Your dad’s favorite dish. You really wanted to surprise him, and in about two hours he would be home.

Okay, yeah. You had lied to Malcolm about your parents being home soon. But he was making you uncomfortable, every time you let your guard down you had felt him invade your personal space, maybe he was just trying to be charming, but you wanted him out of your house, quickly.

And then you felt two hands sneak through your waist.

The handle of your knife made contact with the side of his forehead. The hands released your waist, you turned to see Malcolm stumbling backwards. His hands holding his head as he tried to recover from your hit.

“You b*tch!”

You were left paralyzed.

“Take that back…” You mumbled. The words barely coming out of your mouth.

“What if I don’t? You hit me with the handle of a knife, you b*tch.”

You head went numb. Swirling thoughts repeating over and over your head. Your demons were hunting you again.

“Get out.” You said. But it was numbed. You couldn’t hear yourself. “Get out.” This time he flinched.

Although you felt numb you grabbed his backpack and threw it through your window. Not caring about where it fell.

“Get out.” You kept saying as you pushed him down the hall. His string of curse words only worsening while all you could say was: “Get out.”

You reached the street and you were still saying it. He hadn’t touched you anymore but he was screaming at your face. And suddenly all the noise came back, crushing you.

“GET OUT!!!” You heard yourself scream.

“I’m out already you piece of-” He was interrupted all of a sudden.

“Malcolm. Stop that!” Miles came out of nowhere and pulled him away from you.

“Get out!” Was your voice failing you? You swore your voice sounded hoarse.

Two pairs of hands held you in place. “I’m sorry (Y/N). I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone with him.” You heard Ashley say near you.

“Hey, she is really cold. Is she okay?” Another male voice sounded behind you.

You shied away from his touch and retreated straight into Ashley. You did your face in her shirt. Finally allowing your voice to rest. But you felt so weak, your legs felt like jelly and your chest hurt. A lot.

“Hey, you’re okay.” She soothed you. “We’re here. We’re going to take care of you.”

Ashley ran her hand through your hair, a gesture that slowly calmed you and allowed you to regain a level of consciousness.

When you felt better, you pushed away from her and gave her a weak thanks. Then turned to see a very worried looking Peter Parker next to you.

“ ’m sorry Pete… I didn’t mean to push ya away…” You said weakly. Your throat barely emitted any sound.

“No, it’s okay. You were upset by whatever Malcolm did, you needed some space.”

You looked around, he was gone. “Wher’ did he go?” You slurred, suddenly feeling your energy drain out of you.

“Miles pushed him away. Don’t worry, he isn’t gonna bother you anymore.”

You highly doubted that.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. You didn’t remember entering your apartment again. Just the feeling of Ashley running her fingers through your hair, and the worried questions of Peter near you. Mumbles. That was all you could hear. No definitive words, no. Just mumbling going all around you.

When you came back to your senses it was about to be 5:30 pm. Ashley was heading out the door with Peter and Miles, saying goodbye to both of them.

“I’ll see you guys on Monday, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. If she needs anything you have my phone right?”

“Yeah, I got it. Thank you, boys.” She closed the door.

“Ash?”

She whipped around to see you lifting yourself up from the sofa. “Hey… How are you feeling?”

“Like I was hit by a truck.”

She chuckled. “I made you something. I can bring it if you’re hungry.”

“Nah. I’m good.”

“Mom was calling me. I have to go, but if you need anything please let me know.” She started heading out the door. “Love ya girl.”

“I love you too.” You smiled at your friend.

But as soon as she closed the door it vanished from your face. You felt empty. That was something that happened when you got too worked up about something. Mom had told you that it would fade over time, and both of your parents constantly apologized whenever it happened. That’s why you never told them when this happened anymore.

Dad would arrive any minute, so you dragged yourself from the couch and sat in front of your computer to try and squeeze something out of your brain.

Your research for WRITE was good. But the more you looked at it, the more holes you found.

Why did Loki really attack Earth? He had been here before, why hadn’t he done it a year prior?

Was his slip up with Agent Romanoff a mistake? He hadn’t spilt any kind of information before. Not about himself. Not about his plan. Afterwards, he hadn’t even been asked why he’d done it. There was no trace of any comments from him about his actions. 

You looked and looked and started breaking apart. This was never going to work. This was stupid. There was no way that anyone would believe your poorly researched essay. There were no official comments on the main perpetrator. And where would you get it?

They were right. All their words. You were useless. Stupid. You would never be enough, why couldn’t you just dissape-?

“CUPCAKE! I’M HOOOOOME!!!”

Ah… Dad…

“Cupcake?” He had opened the door. “How are you, sweetie?”

You turned around, in the darkness he couldn’t see your reddened eyes. “I’m good. Just finishing some homework.”

“That’s my girl. Hey, I gotta head for the night shift, but I’ll see you in the morning.” He headed towards you and kissed you on your forehead.

“I-I didn’t know you had a night shift today…”

“Yeah, I know I’m sorry. They need extra back up to supervise after Ultron’s attack.” His voice was apologetic. “I’m a sorry munchkin. I promise you I’ll here tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry. I know your job is important.” You smiled, even though you felt broken inside.

“Mom also has a night shift, but she couldn’t drop by to say goodnight.” He rolled his eyes. “You sure you’ll be okay on your own?”

“Yeah. I know the drill.”

“Goodnight munchkin.”

“Goodnight dad.”

You were all alone. He left. She didn’t even bother to check on you.

You walked up to your closet and pulled out a corkboard. Where for the last few months you had worked extensively in collecting research to figure out your thesis.

Pictures of security cameras. Documents. Transcriptions of recordings. Some were tied by a red cord. It looked like a detective trying to solve a case. And for a while, that’s what you thought you were. But as you looked through it, you found more wholes. Wherever you looked, the word failure just hammered in your head. 

The word he had called you today. That insulting and disgusting word. 

In your anger, you grabbed the board and knocked it over. Papers flew across the room. Strewn all around.

Sobs then proceeded to rack your body. There was no way you could do this. Who would listen to a 12-year-old anyways?

THE NEXT DAY

Neither of your parents arrived home in the morning.

New York seemed to match your mood since it was raining. It was definitely a lazy Saturday, so you decided to text Ashley that you were feeling better and that you’d see her on Monday. Then afterwards, you walked out, with your coat on and some money to spend it all in whatever you were craving for breakfast that day. 

You usually didn’t ask for much, so your parents were never angry at you when you spent just a little bit more for yourself.

Is not like you were going to order a bunch of expensive items. But you just went wherever your stomach led you.

You ended up in a bustling part of the city. Despite the rain, people walked by in a hassle. You approached a food car that had a small roof to protect yourself from the light rain that fell upon New York. 

“Hey, there sweetie. What would you like today?” The owner of the truck asked you kindly. 

You looked at the menu, the variety of options overwhelming you. “Well… What do you recommend?”

“Ah! I think the best food to have in weather like this, is the Chocolate waffle delight. With some hot cocoa? The perfect comfort food, missy.”

“Then I’ll try it.” You smiled at him. Did you really look that bad?

After paying you still stood under the roof as the rain lightened, turning into a drizzle. The waffle was honestly really good. It was crunchy outside, but soft inside. The chocolate dripping everywhere and the sugar topping it. The hot cocoa was good too, but you preferred your dad’s. It was creamier.

As you finished your breakfast you dedicated yourself to look around at the people who walked by. Couples walked arm in arm. Families held the children’s hands. People who walked on their own, seemed to go faster. All of them had somewhere to go.

But you, today, on a Saturday like this. Had nothing to do and nowhere to go. Wasn’t that just pathetic?

If the thing with Malcolm hadn’t happened you would probably be working around those holes for your scholarship. But you didn’t feel like writing anymore. There was no motivation coursing through you like it normally did. 

So you just stared.

And stared.

And stare- Wait, what?

A single person in the street stood out to you. What was he wearing?

You threw away the paper wrapper and cup of cocoa and said a hasty thank you and goodbye to the truck owner.

He was standing on the sidewalk, waiting for the crossing sign to change. And he stood out like a crown in a sea of parrots. Because yeah, New Yorkers are weird, but not that weird. Who wears a three-piece, all black, suit anyway?

You speed-walked through your pedestrian crossing, walking towards him. 

It can’t be. They took him back to Asgard. They would arrest him if he ever set foot back on earth. It can’t be him.

You racked your mind for an explanation, but the place where he had just walked out of sent you into a new form of confusion. Why would he be in an elder’s home?

You finally caught up to the man. However, an inner panic overtook you so you just stood awkwardly by his side, waiting for the pedestrian light to change.

Look towards me. Come on. Notice me. You hoped since you were definitely not just going to start a conversation with an unidentified criminal. No. That would be irresponsible of you.

You bounced on the ball of your feet and when the light changed, you followed him as inconspicuously as you could.

After a minute or two of quietly following him, you just thought that maybe you were following the wrong guy. Maybe your sight failed you. There was no way this was him. I mean, he would have the FBI, the CIA, the army and the Avengers on top of him just by setting foot on earth. Yeah, you just-

“Why are you following me?”

Oh no. It’s definitely him.

“Uh-Uh, excuse me?” You tried playing dumb.

He didn’t turn around, nor he stopped. So you didn’t either.

“You have been following me for some time. Please go, I’m not friendly with kids.” He dismissively stated.

“Wow. I guess I’m just some kid. I thought I wasn’t that forgettable.” You smirked, wondering if that would steer his brain.

He only stopped when the next pedestrian light turned red.

Still not looking at you, but with a furrowed brow, he asked: “Do I know you?”

“Yep. I guess I am pretty forgettable.” You shrugged, not meeting his side looks. “I guess sneaking past the security of the highest security vehicle in the world is quite dumb.”

Is he catching on? Am I pulling this off? Or do I just look like an idiot?

It took him a second of silence and starting to cross the street to suddenly whip around in the middle of the crossing and give you a look.

“You’re my cell buffoon.” He smirked.

You gasped, feigning hurt. “Excuse Y O U. I’ll let you know that I am so much more than "entertaining”.“

You both stood there, in the middle of the street, staring at each other for a while. 

"Well, this will be interesting then…” The smirk on his face told you one thing. This was just starting.

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Fights, both physical and verbal, abound! Local Science Boy Tired of Friends' Arguement. Local Astronaut Trying Real Hard not to die Here. Local Ghost Hunting Family Talk SCIENCE and Local Art Boy Does Research

Danny and Tucker sat in the vice principal’s office.  On the wall next to the door was an array of monitors that showed security feeds.  Across from it was a desk with a globe and the filing cabinet that Lancer was going through at the moment.  If  Danny had to guess the chairs were intentionally made to be uncomfortable.  An added punishment for even being there.

“Tucker Foley,” Lancer droned.  “Chronic tardiness.  Talking in class.  Repeated loitering by the girls’ locker room.  Danny Fenton.  34 dropped beakers in the last month.  Banned for life from handling all fragile school property, but no severe mischief before today.  So, gentlemen, tell me.”  Lancer set down the folders he was reading from on his desk and leaned forward to yell in their faces.  “Why did the two of you conspire to destroy the school’s cafeteria?”

“Dash started it when he threw his mud pie into the back of my head!”  Danny was going to need a thorough shower later, but for now, turning his head to display that he’d been hit in the head with mud was enough for him.  

“He literally tried to make Danny eat the mud.”  This is why Tucker was Danny’s best friend.  He and Danny were on the same wavelength.

“Besides, destroy the cafeteria is pretty hyperbolic, don’t you think?”  Please lighten up on us because I used a vocab word.

“Mr. Baxter, as well as everyone caught on camera participating in the food fight is going to be punished for it.  You two, however, are taking the first of it with him.”  Lancer stood and walked out the door.  “I’m going to fully map out your punishments when I return.  Mr. Baxter, make sure they don’t leave.”

“We gotta find Sam!”  Tucker got up and went around Lancer’s desk.  By the time Danny was next to him, Tucker was already going through the security files on Lancer’s computer.  “Do not ask why I have his password or how.  We don’t have time for that.  Oh, thank gods, this place has security cameras in the weirdest places.”  On the screen, Tucker tracked the meat sweep through the school until it settled in one place.  “Directly below us. Got enough juice?”

Danny closed his eyes and reached inside, stretching into the void of cold winds and vast darkness, and dragged himself into it.  It swept outward over his body in a flash and for a moment he had to reorient himself.  Danny grabbed onto Tucker and intangibility filled them both.  They fell through the floors and stopped right above the floor of the basement.  “Is this… a meat locker under the school?”

“See, this is the kinda stuff that Sam needs to get changed.  Where they store their food, not what food groups are fed to us.”  Tucker started walking, and Danny stood beside him.

“This is like the time she convinced our middle school teachers to hold a Sadie Hawkins dance when no one felt like doing a dance.”  Danny rolled his eyes and looked around.  “Except this time she’s the one who got kidnapped instead of her nabbing us.  Also, repeated loitering by the girls’ locker room?”

“I figured that’d be a great place to meet someone to ask for a date.”

“How are you both a genius and a dumbass at the same time, Tuck?”

Before the geek could valiantly defend his honor, they heard a voice of strained cheer.  “My dear child, meat is good for kids.  It helps them grow and makes them smile.”  The boys looked around the corner and saw Sam stuck in a pile of meat that was definitely inedible now.  The Lunch Lady was floating in front of her, a fish and a chicken leg held up in either hand.  “Why won’t you eat it?”

“We don’t need meat.  That’s fact.”  Sam never was one to back down when she was championing something.  It was something that Danny admired about Sam.  He never thought that food was the hill Sam was willing to literally die on though.

“Silence!”  The ghost’s voice echoed and that wind picked up yet again.  Danny wondered if he could call up special effects like that for Halloween.  “You need discipline, manners, respect.  You know where that comes from?  Meat!  Fish, or chicken?”

“Plus, most of the nutrients we need are in fish and chicken,” Tucker muttered.  Or at least, he probably thought it was muttering.  What it happened to be was loud enough for the ghost to hear them, eyes bright red eyes turned toward the boys.

“I’ll deal with the ghost, you get Sam out of that meat pile.”  Danny ran as fast as he could.  His fist reared back and collided with the ghost’s head harder than he expected it to.  She was launched into the wall.  Danny immediately followed up with a kick to the face.  The Lunch Lady grabbed onto his ankle and held Danny up while floating upright.

“This is why you need meat!  You’re skin and bones!”  She then tossed Danny across the room, and at the last second, he phased through the wall.  And the ground.  It took a couple seconds of carefully making the tips of his gloves more - or less, it was still hard to tell - real to pull himself back up to the basement.

There, Danny found shish kabobs beings flung at him.  Going completely on reflex, Danny separated his torso from his legs and the deadly food sank into the concrete behind him.  There were even cracks in the wall.  While Danny pulled himself back together, an enraged Lunch Lady ghost let out a furious roar, and all the meat in the storage locker rose up.  Even the meat Tucker was pulling off of Sam in chunks rose up off of her and swirled around the ghost in a storm.  Sam and Tucker got closer to Danny until they were in arm’s reach, and the 20-foot behemoth of meat with green torches for eyes roared down at them.

“Fuck no.”  Danny grabbed his friends and the chill of invisibility and intangibility rushed through them all again.  Danny pulled and snap the gravity tethering Danny and his friends to the Earth was undone, and Danny flew through the wall to the outside, flying faster when he heard a loud crash.

“Thanks, Danny, Tuck.”  Sam shot them both a big grateful smile.  “You must be exhausted, ghost boy.  Fighting in ghost mode, yanking us through walls.  Holy shit, Danny you’re flying!”

“What would give ya that idea?”  Danny yawned in the middle of that sentence but felt it was irrelevant.  But then, everything went dark as they tumbled into a heap on the grass.  And then it went silent.

Tucker and Sam stare at each other.  For a handful of moments, neither is entirely sure what they should do.  Sam could've died.  Her best friends could have died.  How is a teenager even meant to process that?  She wants to curl up on the ground and hide from everything in that moment, will all the nasty reality that is Ghosts away.  But Tucker is bent over Danny, and Danny is out cold.  So she packs away the emotions, cools her shit, and bends down.  "You get his legs, I'll take his shoulders.  FentonWorks?"

They get him there.  Danny's parents are downstairs, working on something.  They get Danny on his bed, and Sam slumps against the door.  Tucker and Danny skipped a detention essentially and all three have skipped school.  So Tucker goes down to erase the Fenton's voice mailbox and sends out a bug to his own.  Sam has no clue why he has that ready but asks if he can do it with her folks' line.  He asks for a few minutes.  The silence passes, Tucker gets on Danny's laptop.  He always fled to the tech when he needed somewhere safe.  Eventually, he asks.  "You ok?  Today went to shit."

"No, I don't think I am.  I’m pretty sure she was going to crush me to death under all that meat that should’ve been stored in a far more sanitary manner.  I’ve got bruises and meat juice all over me and I need a nap and a shower, not in that order.”  Sam checked Danny's closet and found something she'd left there a couple of months back.  "I'm gonna do that actually.  Keep an eye on him?" Tucker grunted in acknowledgment.  That was the best she'd get so Sam grabbed a spare towel from the dresser and headed to the shower.

When Sam got back she looked over Tucker's shoulder.  Images of old ladies in familiar-looking uniforms were all over the screen.  "Looking her up?"

"If we know more about her then we can talk it out with her right?"  Tucker's fingers paused over the keyboard.  He stretched, looking over at her.  "Right?"

"Probably.  Looking to work that Foley Charm on her?"  Sam elbowed him lightly in the ribs.  Tucker clutched his chest as though he'd been broken.  Thank gods for that smile on his face.  "Tell me you aren't planning to flirt with her.  Danny might get jealous."  Tucker snorted.

"I don't think Danny is into old ladies who occasionally burst into flames." Tucker went back to typing and clicking, screen light glaring off his lenses.  "So, my theory is that ghosts draw on ambient energy to sustain themselves.  When we went into that fight my phone was on like… 50 percent.  When we got here it was at 17.  So maybe we should carry batteries on us?"

"And our wrist rays."  Sam was never letting herself be helpless like that again.  "what've you got on her so far?"

"She said the menu hasn't changed in 50 years and she wasn't kidding.  So I'm looking back at people employed by Casper back when she was alive, and hoping I can recognize her facial structure."

"Impressive."  Sam sighed and looked over at Danny.

He zipped up his suit.  Sam made a face at him and pulled off the logo of his dad's face.  "You can't go around with this on your chest."  He agreed. If Danny ever met aliens of the extradimensional kind, he didn't want them to see his dad's face plastered on him.  Danny walked into the tunnel that was his parents' ghost portal, looking all around it.  The whispers of those other worlds called out in his head again.  As he walked deeper into the portal, Danny saw nothing wrong.  Not a nut or bolt out of place.  He got to the end. It was dark.  Too dark to see anything.  Turning back, he kept a hand on the wall to steady himself.  His foot hit a raised panel, and Danny leaned to the left for support. There was a click.

Danny opened his eyes and saw Sam looking down at him.  Not unusual.  The soreness in his muscles, however, was.  Danny stopped mid-stretch and winced.  "Oh. Right.  20-foot meat monster."  Tucker was at his desk, turned around in the chair and giving him that frown he had when Dash had slammed Danny into a locker.  "How long was I out for?"

"Four days."  Tucker reached under Danny's bed and lifted up a bag of Nasty Burger.

"Four Days?!"

"Nah, like, 2 hours dude."  Tuck chuckled and handed him a wrapped burger.  "You need this dude, that fight took a shit ton outta you."

“Don’t I know it.”  Danny unwrapped the burger and sank his teeth in.  He'd been hungrier than he thought.  It felt like a blink before the burger was gone.  "Thanks, dude, I needed that.  We basically skipped lunch, didn't we?"  That thought had a horrible domino effect and Danny tore the burger wrapping in half.  "Fuck, my parents are gonna kill me!"

"I erased the voicemail from your box, mine, and Sam's.  Don't worry about that."

"Speaking of, how ya doin Sam?"  Danny turned, looking his friend over and wincing at the bruises on her arms.  “Fuck, the meat pile did that?”

“Yeah, turns out being grabbed up by a bunch of proceeded corpses can do some damage.”  Sam shrugged.  “It’s nothing I can’t fix with some concealer and sleeves.”

“It’s still warm though,” Danny said.  “You good baking yourself?”

“The heaters in the school barely work, and it’s nearly October, Danny.  Things have cooled down plenty.”  Sam frowned and looked over to Tucker.  “Do head injuries affect the perception of temperature?”

“I’m sure they can.  If only someone hadn’t summoned up a meat-obsessed lunch lady with a menu change.”  Tucker paused and raised a brow.  “Actually, how in the hell did you even get them to change it?  Nevermind the why.”

“The why, Tucker, is that schools need to promote healthier changes in the food we consume.”  Sam had that fire in her eyes.  Again.  Danny let out a long sigh, which went ignored by his bickering friends.

“And removing an entire food group from the menu was your solution?”

“It’s one we don’t even need Tucker!  Do you know how inefficient the transfer of calories from meat into our bodies is?”

“We need protein, Sam!  If there’s anything that the Lunch Lady said truthfully it’s that!  Look at Danny!  He barely gets any protein, you can see how that’s turned out for him.”

“My dude, I’m not the only skinny person here.”

“And whether or not we have meat and protein isn’t your decision to make for us all, Sam!”  Tucker glared balefully at the vegan and stood up from Danny’s chair.  “You had to be an individual and have all your individual needs met over what anyone else wanted, didn’t you?  No one but you even wanted this menu change!”

“The menu as it is now is far healthier for both us and the environment - and the ecosystems we tear down to sustain ourselves and animals that get butchered so people can enjoy the taste of their flesh don’t get a choice in what happens to them, so someone needs to make choices that help them out!”  

“Oh, oh, so mud is healthier for me to eat than chicken?  That’s fucking rich, Sam, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever fucking heard!”  Tucker was now agitated enough to start ranting in Mandarin, which was great.  “Actually, no no, the most ridiculous thing is that we’re equating the right to a choice in what we eat to an animal’s right to chose anything.  Are you insane?”  Tucker opened the door so fast the knob banged against the wall.  “I’m gonna make sure this shit doesn’t last the week!”

“We are no more innocent than those animals and they’re lives shouldn’t be put on the line for us needlessly!  And don’t you think you can go undoing all my hard work!”  Sam barged out as well, completely forgetting Danny as she slammed his door shut.  And Danny stared at that door for a moment before groaning into his pillow.

“This is going to be a whole thing, isn’t it?”  For several moments, Danny laid there and stared up at the constellations he’d put up on his ceiling in glow in the dark stickers.  His stomach reminded him of its existence, and Danny groaned again.  He still had some allowance left, so he went out and headed to the Nasty Burger.  Considering Tucker’s words and how much he’d done that day, Danny ordered a full meal.

After he’d eaten and walked it off on the way home, Danny let what had happened that day go through his mind.  Even as he fought off a small angry blob with his wrist ray, growling at it.  “Ghosts aren’t mindlessly violent beings. I know that.”  He needed to believe that.  “So, that means that she can be calmed, somehow.  She kept going on and on about the benefits of meat, and she died years ago…”  An email notification popped up on Danny’s computer, and he sighed.  “Right, homework assigned by Lancer.  What would I do without Tuck?”

The next day, Danny pulled on one of his darker shirts - a gift from Sam with some constellation’s accurately displayed - and some jeans.  His parents didn’t come up to join him and Jazz that morning, which was likely for the best.  Danny didn’t need their ghost radar pointing at him before he could figure out how to break their biases.  The second his cereal was finished, though, Danny pulled out his journal and attached pencil.  “No,” Danny snapped when he heard Jazz take a familiar breath.  “It’s not a diary, no you may not read it.  For the 11th time, Spazz.”  One weird benefit of super hearing - I can tell when she’s about to speak.  Everyone had different rhythms for when they spoke and when they were thinking etcetera.  Danny knew his sister’s patterns almost as well as Tucker and Sam’s.

Danny wrote into his journal a goal of recording his encounters with apparently sapient ghosts and how quickly he managed to pacify them.  If only he could think of how to pacify this one.

Once the hybrid got to school - later than he would’ve been had those damned blobs not been so interested in fucking with him - Danny groaned as he was dragged to the Vice Principal’s office.  There he found Tucker, who was glaring down at the desk in just the right angle to look like he was glaring directly ahead.  A trick he’d developed for gathering valuable passwords while tricking Lancer and other authorities into thinking he was just a semi-rebellious teen.  Danny couldn’t tell what Tucker could be trying to gather from the desk now, but he may have just been scowling.  Tucker was complicated that way.

“Take a seat, Mr. Fenton.”  Danny obeyed and took his seat, looking steadfastly at the space just behind Lancer’s head.  “Tell me, gentlemen, how and why did you leave my office when both of you were already being punished for starting a food fight in the cafeteria?”  Before either could come up with an answer, Lancer slammed his hand down hard on the desk, and Danny flinched.  “What could possibly have possessed you two to skip school for the rest of the day?”

Danny squirmed a bit, while Tucker took even, obviously measured breaths.  He then looked up at Lancer directly.  “We were worried about Sam, sir.  She hadn’t answered any of her texts, and she always answers even when we’re fighting to make sure we know she’s safe.”  Not untrue, Sam wouldn’t have been able to answer a text if they tried that.  Danny nodded along to Tucker’s story.

“We left out the window to find her, which took forever since she had gone to find a way to help organize something for the school.”  Danny put on his most apologetic face.  “We’re truly sorry about ditching you, Mr. Lancer, but we had to make sure our friend was safe, you see.  We wanted to make sure none of the jocks or anyone had gone and done something horrible to her as revenge for getting the menu changed for a week.”

Lancer glared between the two of them for several seconds more, and Danny fought to keep himself still.  “Fine,” Lancer finally allowed.  “I will be following up with Ms. Manson to confirm all of this, but you won’t be receiving too harsh a punishment for looking out for your friend.  For endangering yourselves by leaving through the window, however, and for leaving without simply telling me, you will be serving both lunch detention and after-school detention.  Do you understand, boys?”

“Of course, Mr. Lancer.”  It amazed Danny, at times, that he and Tucker could speak in unison.  They were like twins.

“Dismissed.  You two best not be late to my class.”

On the way to class, Danny brought up his thoughts on trying to appease the Lunch Lady.  “Her name is Agatha,” Tuck said.  “Agatha Reece.  And maybe you could, I dunno, teach her about the health crisis in America?  Help me organize the school to reform the menu the right way?”

“You want it changed too now?  I thought you were gonna get it changed back early, or something?”

“Oh no, the food around here sucks either way.”  Tucker rolled his eyes.  “I just wish we had like, a better storage of better food in general.  I could recommend my uncle and aunt’s farm for fresh, nearby food products.”

“If only we knew how Sam had convinced the school to do this whole ‘veggie week’ thing.”  Danny shook his head.  “That’s what really doesn’t make sense to me.  We’ve only been in school for like, a month or so.  How the hell did Sam ‘wear them down’ so quickly?”

“No clue,” Tucker growled.  For a moment the hair on Danny’s nape stood on end at the sound.  “But, I’m going to make a petition, and head around the school getting signatures for a better permanent change decided on by the students.”

Danny patted Tucker’s shoulder and nodded somberly.  “Leave some printer paper for the rest of us at least?”

Tucker raised his nose, Danny now straining to hold in the laughter in front of the door.  “Sorry Danny, but a man on a mission has to go to all lengths to complete his quest.”

Danny bowed at the waist.  “Of course, Friar Tuck, how could I possibly forget?”

“You are forgiven, peasant Daniel.”  Tucker laughed and pulled Danny into the classroom.  Things would be alright.  Danny just needed to weather the storm and make sure both of his friends were still friends by the end of it.

It proved far more difficult a task done than said.  The three had most classes together, but Tucker was busily writing something down every few seconds in a second journal in his desk while he worked.  Tuck had the most fascinating form of ambidextrousness.  He barely paid any attention to Danny’s attempts to start a conversation and crumpled up any notes about Sam he slid over.

Similarly, Sam was ignoring him almost entirely.  She took her notes, but every time she caught him whispering to Tucker, she glared and went cold on Danny himself.  Am I not allowed to talk to both of my friends?

Lunch came around, Lancer had them eating in his room, and Danny had never been more grateful to Tucker’s mom than he had been when Tuck handed him an extra bagged lunch.  “Tuck, you are the best.”

“I know it, dude.”

“Gentlemen!  This is meant to be a time of quiet reflection upon your misdeeds.”  Lancer glared at them until the teens went to silently eating, and Lancer went back to whatever he was doing on his computer.  If Danny focused on the man’s headphones hard enough he could pick up the faint sound of… blasters?  Weird.

At the end of the day, however, while the two were meant to be heading to detention, Tucker was going around and asking groups of friends who were lingering about something and holding up a clipboard that Danny was almost certain he stole from his dad’s office.  Along with that pen.  Never was Danny ever earlier than Tucker to something, but apparently, detention was one of those things.  Sam, surprisingly, was also there.

“Lancer got you too?”  Danny asked as he swept a bit nearer to the goth

“I was gone all day.”  Sam shrugged, pushing the few remains of grass and mud into a pile and then grabbing a dustpan.  “Plus I wanted to help clean it up anyway.  We need this place to eat in after all.”

“Actually, I heard Jerry and Katelyn at least were eating on the theater stage.”  The two scooped everything up into a trash bag with the dustpan.  “They were inviting some other people to bring sandwiches and chips and stuff.”

“Oh wow,” Tucker called out from where Danny was very sure he shouldn’t have been able to hear them.  “No one wanted to eat garbage right from the ground?  I’m surprised, shocked even.”

“Had you actually been there to see, Tucker, there were plenty of people eating peacefully in the cafeteria today!”  Sam looked downright murderous and stomped off to clean away from Tucker.  Danny sighed a heavy sigh and shook his head.

The detention had gone on for an hour, but it’d felt like forever.  Danny watched both his friends march off in different directions and groaned.  Another friendless night for him.  After a trip to the Nasty Burger, Danny did a little walk around the city.  A few ghosts that he could see when the world lost focus skittered away from him or ignored him entirely.  Some attacked, but his wrist ray had yet to run out of juice even though he forgot to charge it last night.  “Maybe something to do with my other-self.  Gonna have to ask mom and dad about that.”  A shiver ran down Danny’s spine, a puff of mist coming out of his mouth and he looked around, letting his senses shift into that surreal state of his ghostly self.  He saw nothing out of the ordinary.  Relaxing, Danny sighed and headed home.

"Danny!"  His dad, Jack Fenton, only seemed to speak in exclamation marks. Danny wondered if he'd ever had an inside voice.  "C' mon, dinner's ready son!"

Danny raised a brow.  "Who cooked?" He'd eaten his Nasty Burger meal and was pretty sure he got all he needed.

"I did!"  On the other hand, more food that wasn't infected with ectoplasmic residue sounded nice.  Danny set down his bag and headed into the kitchen, where his dad had set out chicken, mashed potatoes, garlic bread, and spinach.  His mom and sister were already sitting and eating, and Danny gave them both a wave. 

"Hi, Danny!  Juice is in the fridge.  Jazz reminded your father and I that we need to refresh our minds with some air now and then.  I thought, why not a family dinner?"  Mom shrugged as she picked up a chicken leg.  "Jack insisted on cooking."

"Mom," Jazz said in her best calming voice, "Dad never mutates the food."

While Mom and Jazz debated who had the bigger mishaps with ectoplasm - Danny felt the Christmas turkey and Dad dragging them into a world of blinding perpetual light ranked as the biggest mishaps period - Danny grabbed himself a plate and fruit punch.  Jazz clearly grabbed some groceries before telling their parents to surface. 

Halfway through his meal, a thought struck Danny.  "Hey Dad, Mom?  How does ectoplasm interact with electricity in its rawest most natural form?  The ectoplasm, not the electricity."

Jazz stared at him in betrayal, Why written in her expression.  His parents, however, jumped on the thought of their son having an interest in their work.  Danny had never seen his dad swallow food that fast.

"Ya see Danno, ectoplasm as it is when we retrieve it is naturally an energy thief.  In relation to electromagnetic radiation, it soaks in any and all of it from the area with the exclusion of green visible light.  That's why it feels so cold."

"If we can refine our engines properly we can utilize the flip side of  that natural state," his mom added, "We could revolutionize energy efficiency in technology around the world!"

"It can store up a lot of power, but once it hits it's maximum?"  Dad held his hands together then spread them out so fast he almost smacked Jazz and Danny.  "It all comes out in an intense burn!  Ectoplasm is either plasma hot or cold as space.  When it's cold, it'd drain the power out of everything around it."

Danny nodded, letting the info process for a couple of moments while he ate.  "So if, say, a ghost was to eat human food…?"

"Well," his mom twirled her fork around.  "It likely wouldn't, but if it did the ghost would soak up all the energy that could be gotten out of the material in the food, leaving nothing but ashes."

Danny nodded, curiosity satisfied, and steered the conversation elsewhere.  Once he was done clearing off his plate, Danny was struck with a realization.  It was the sort of thing that happened all the time, when a thought lingered in his head, waiting to present itself.  Usually, that was artistic inspiration.  Now he knew exactly how to calm down Agatha.  Up the stairs, he ran to his computer.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

My daughter, the trickster; Loki x teen reader

Okay ya’ll. This request came from my Wattpad, and a long time ago someone had asked if I was going to do requests from IW well......this is what I had gotten and what I had written for the requester a few days ago. Now for anyone who STILL HAS NOT SEEN THE MOVIE PLEASE TURN AWAY AND DO NOT I REPEAT DO NOT READ THIS FIC!!! I Also want to open up the tissues and sweet dessert table because like my wattpad readers, you all WILL START CRYING THIS IS PURE, UNADULTERATE ANGST you are about to read. You all will be crying, I myself was crying cause I had to watch the opening over and over and over again just to get the quotes right. But I promise you, the next fic that comes around will NOT be angsty, I’ll try to give as much fluff as I can, maybe even transfer some more wattpad oneshots I have onto here.

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This is the Asgardian refugee vessel Statesman.  We are under assault, I repeat we are under assault. The engines are dead, life support failing….Requesting aid from any vessel within range, we are 22 jump points out of Asgard. Our crew is made up of Asgardian families we have very few soldiers here! This is not a warcraft! I repeat, this is not a warcraft!

Was the distress call that was sent hours ago.  Half of our people managed to escape with Valkyrie and Korg but the rest of us—most of them were dead. The only ones still alive were myself, my father, Heimdall, my Uncle Thor and his friend Bruce Banner.  But I might as well be considered dead.  

I was stabbed, beaten, and my wrist broken.  Much like Heimdall who was on the ground with a deep wound on his side and my uncle barely moving on the ground as the mad Titan stood over him.  One of Thanos’ crazed followed walked over the dead corpses of my people speaking of how those who survived are now considered to be the children of Thanos.

My father stood among them with a weapon pointed right at him as Thanos himself finally spoke up.

“I know what it’s like to lose. To feel so desperately that you’re right…yet to fail, nonetheless”. He then picked up my Uncle by the cuff of his armor that he was forced to wear on Sakaar just a couple of days ago.  I could hear him choking on his blood as Thanos walked slowly towards my father as he continued to say, “It’s frightening. Turns the legs to jelly, but I ask you to what end? Dread it, run from it…destiny arrives all the same. And now it’s here. Or should I say…I am”.

He raised his other hand that held the Infinity gauntlet that held the Power Stone that he had stolen from Xandar after decimating it just last week, and it was with this Power Stone, he would soon destroy our ship once his so-called mission was done.

“You talk too much” my uncle groaned out.

“The Tesseract or your brother’s head” Thanos tried to force my father to trade. “I assume you have a preference”.

“Oh, I do, kill away” my father stated bluntly.  Thanos grinned and said. Thanos was silent. He and my father continued to stare at each other and that’s when Thanos spoke up once more.

“Yes, I could crush his head. End his life right here and now. But I’ve known the hatred you’ve always burned for your brother, that’s too easy”.  He then released my Uncle and that’s when I was suddenly picked up from the ground.

The black hooded son of Thanos had me and took me towards him. I grunted as I tried to struggle but it was all in vain as I was forced onto the ground and he pulled my hair back forcing my head to look up at the Titan.  My heart raced with fear as Thanos stared down at me, his eyes cold and soulless.

“But can the same be said for her?” His fingers gently grazed my face as he continued, “I am sorry for this little one, but the child must always pay for the sins of their father”. The gauntlet and the Power Stone came closer to my face.

“No, no! No! No! No!” I tried to fight it and get myself free, but his son wrapped his hand around my forehead keeping my head completely still as the stone finally touched my face and I felt the hot, agonizing pain that came with it as I let out probably the most painful scream of my life.

I kept screaming as the Power Stone continued to literally burn away my skin.  I don’t even know how long this torment went on for, but I finally heard my father cry out.

“STOP! LEAVE HER OUT OF THIS!!” Finally, I felt the stone leave my face and I was released and left to be a crying mess.

“We don’t have the Tesseract, it was destroyed on Asgard” my Uncle stated.  But that was when my father looked to my Uncle before holding out his hand and appearing was the Tesseract.  “You….really are the worst brother”.

“I assure you brother; the sun will shine on us again” my father told my uncle as he walked right up to Thanos.

“Your optimism is misplaced, Asgardian” Thanos chuckled.

“Well for one thing, I’m not Asgardian. And for another…..never come between me and my daughter again because this time….we have a Hulk”. Suddenly the Hulk came roaring in and attacked Thanos just as my dad came in and shielded me with his body. “(Y/n), my darling, speak to me”. I glared at my father and didn’t say a word to him.

His eyes were full of hurt but who knows if that was even true.  See ever since my uncle’s coronation, my father and I have had a—rocky relationship.  After I found out it was him who led the Frost giants into Asgard during my uncle’s coronation, I never spoke to him.  Then when we fell off the Bifrost, I felt instant regret and mourned for his death as did my Uncle and grandmother.

Then a year later, I find out that he was alive after the fall and had tried to take over Midgard had it not been for my Uncle and his friends, The Avengers.  My father was then imprisoned for eternity for his crimes and when he did try to redeem himself by helping Uncle Thor and I with the Dark Elves, he died again this time in honor.  And yet again, I find out years later that he had been playing grandfather Odin all these years, never telling the truth.

Again, and again and again it’s always the same with him.  I’m his daughter, you think he’d be honest at least to me but no. He always leaves me in the dust, thinking I’ll be left an orphan and not even caring about me. Around the time when my aunt Hela was ruling Asgard, she saw the pain inside of me and even tried to teach me how to control that pain and have me side with her.

When my father and uncle returned from the realm of Sakaar with the last Valkyrie, an army of prisoners, and one of my Uncle’s friends, I took up my sword and fought against Hela until she was defeated by Raganarok itself.

But the pain I still felt never truly went away. Because it’s true.  My dad will never change, and to be honest, I think he stopped caring about me a long time ago.

Soon Thanos began to overpower the Hulk which was surprising since uncle Thor had talked about the Hulk being the second strongest after him, I thought he’d give us the upper hand but seeing the Hulk getting pulverized by Thanos, made me believe that nothing could stop this mad Titan.

Thor soon stepped in, hitting Thanos over the head with an iron pipe but it ended up breaking in two and with just a simple kick, my uncle was sent flying across the room before he was bound thanks to snake-head’s telekinetic powers.

With his last ounce of strength, I saw Heimdall reach for the Bifrost sword and he prayed to the Allfathers to give him strength to summon the Bifrost which sent the Hulk back to his home in Midgard.  Thanos came over Heimdall and was handed a staff by the same son who once had me in his grasp telling him that what he did was a mistake before stabbing him right in the stomach with the staff.

“NOOO!!!!” both me and my uncle cried out.  I looked to Heimdall, the man who was once my tutor for everything that stood in the galaxy. I remember as a small child; I would sneak out of the palace just to see the Bifrost and when Heimdall saw me, he never once told the guards of my presence, instead he tutored me on the entire galaxy.  Showed me the stars and the galaxies and what they were like through his eyes.

But now he was dead.

It was then Thanos was granted the Tesseract which held within its cubic barrier, the Space Stone. Thanos took the cube and crushed it in his palm leaving only dust and the Space Stone itself.  He took the stone and placed it right next to the Power Stone and he soon felt its power course through his body.  Now he was even more powerful than anyone in the galaxy, no one has ever survived holding one Infinity stone, but to have the power over two…..now the galaxy was doomed.

Thanos gave the order to his children that 2 more stones were on Earth and he told them to find them.  His children bowed before him and that’s when my father piped up.

“If I might interject,” his children stood up and turned around towards my father as he continued, “If you’re going to Earth, you might want a guide. I do have a bit of experience in that arena”.

“If you consider failure experience” said Thanos but my father interjected.

“I consider experience experience. Almighty Thanos…. I, Loki, Prince of Asgard…Odinson…the rightful King of Jotunheim, God of Mischief…do herby pledge to you….” It was then I took notice of his dagger taking shape in his left hand as he continued to say, “My undying fidelity”. My father bowed his head to finish off his pledge and stayed there for a moment before raising his dagger right up to Thanos’ neck but with the power of the Space stone, his attack stopped at just a hair length.

“Undying? You should choose your words more carefully” Thanos told my dad as he gripped his hand and squeezed it forcing him to drop his dagger.  He then picked my father up by the neck and lifted him up midair and watched as my father squirmed trying to free himself from his grasp.

“You…..will never be…..a god” my father strained out.  Then with the sound of bones cracking, he went limp right there in Thanos’ hand.

My heart sunk. It almost seemed inaudible of the scream I had let out.  Thanos then walked over towards me and dropped my father right in front of me and said.

“No resurrections this time”.  Then using the Power Stone, he destroyed our ship before using the Space stone to teleport him and his children out before our vessel exploded.  Uncle Thor was freed of his bonds and he crawled up toward us. I placed my head over his heart hoping that this was another illusion, somehow, he had to be tricking us again.  He always was.

Loki, the Trickster. God of Mischief. Now wake up damnit! Wake up! I looked up to uncle Thor and he just looked at me heartbroken as I was, and I cried into his shoulder as we both lay across my father’s corpse until finally the ship exploded.

I was surrounded by darkness.  I don’t know how long it was, maybe I was truly dead now.  Next thing I knew I heard a soft female voice telling me to wake and I shot up with my daggers on hand and I found myself in a small, crowded ship.  I looked to my right to see my Uncle standing there.

“Uncle?”

“(Y/n), oh thank Valhalla you’re alright!” I was brought to a strong embrace by my uncle and I buried my head into his neck and that’s when I took notice that we weren’t alone.  Standing behind us was a man, a green woman, another female with antennas, a humanoid tree, a strong, built man with blue skin and tattoos, and a small furry creature. All of them either pointing weapons at us or in a defensive position trying to appear threatening (mainly the girl with the antennas was doing that, everyone else pretty much had a weapon).

“Uncle, we aren’t alone” I said.  I was then put down and my uncle wrapped a protective arm around me and he said.

“Who the hell are you guys?”

As I was sipping on some soup, if that’s what they want to call it as the green-skinned woman began to explain Thanos’ quest to claim all 6 infinity stones in order to exterminate half the population and that once he did get all six, he could do it with a snap of his fingers.  My uncle said that she seemed to know a great deal of Thanos and that’s when the blue skinned tattooed man said that Gamora was the daughter of Thanos.

My head shot up and my felt my magic surge through me.  My eyes turned pure gold and I charged up towards her with my sword now visible in my hand, but I was stopped by my uncle who said.

“Sorry about my niece. It’s just that your father killed my brother, her father”. I pushed his hand aside and growled at him.

“Do not speak of him!” I stomped away to whatever privacy I had in this infertile compartment but there was barely any room that I could hide in and expulse my anger at. So I kicked the nearest thing I could find which was just the wall and I unleashed my Seidr and just let the magical blast shake the ship.

“Hey, Sabrina the teenage witch! Cool it you blast like that again you’ll tear my ship apart!” I heard the Midgardian man yell at me.  I collapsed to the ground and held my knees up to my chest and just sat there.

“(Y/n)” I looked up and through my teary eyes I saw my uncle standing before me.  I turned away from him and said.

“Please uncle, I—I wish to be left alone”.

“Do you though?” I sighed heavily and lowered my head into my knees.  I felt my uncle sit close beside me and he said. “I know what it feels like to lose your father, it’s been barely a week since your grandfather passed”.

“2 weeks actually”.

“What are you sure?”

“Yes, Hela arrived to Asgard 2 weeks ago that’s when she came and took me in after killing all of our soldiers, making me be just like her”.

“Wow, Sakaar’s time difference really is a pain in the ass”.

“You were going somewhere with this Uncle?”

“Right, right yes of course. What I’m trying to say is I know what you’re going through. You’re angry, sad, anxious….”

“No, you don’t understand uncle. It’s not the fact that my father is for once dead, it’s—what I told him before the attack”. I stood up and leaned up against the wall and began to explain, “I saw that he had the Tesseract shortly as we began to head to Earth, we argued and that’s when I finally snapped. I called him a lying, selfless tramp! I—I told him I hated him and that I was ashamed to be his daughter. I told him I never wanted to be associated with his name, that I would be (y/n), Daughter of Sigyn. Just of Sigyn’s bane. I couldn’t take all the secrecies, the lies, the deception! He—I even mentioned I hoped his soul would never be accepted into Valhalla because if I were to die, I’d never want to spend an eternity with him in death. Because that to me wouldn’t be Valhalla, but Hel”.

As tears fell down my face like a river and my shoulders shook with the sobs I tried to contain, I felt my uncle’s arms wrap around me and my head now resting on his chest.

“Your father was—always tough to reason with, especially for the past several years. But if there was anything he regretted in his entire life, it’s the disappointment that always came in your eyes every time he entered a room or was mentioned in a conversation. He told me in an elevator on Sakaar that one thing that held him back from staying was that he was going to prove himself to you, one way or another. He wanted to regain that light that always shined in your eyes every time you looked up at him when you were younger”.

I held onto my uncle tightly as I wept into his chest and I would even punch his chest to release my anger which he allowed me to do.  Whatever I needed to get my anger and guilt out, he allowed me to do.

A little awhile later, my uncle decided it would be best to go to Nidavellir to have a weapon that can kill Thanos once and for all.  The small rabbit and the humanoid tree, and me were to go while the rest of Guardians go to Knowhere to find Thanos before he got the Reality stone.

“Come on (y/n), we need to get there as fast as we can”. My Uncle said.

“Hate to break the news to you angel pirate but we can only fit the three of us, she won’t fit”.

“Nah she can shapeshift, we’ll be fine come on (y/n)”. I then stepped inside and my uncle wished the morons the best of luck and soon we took off.

Once the space pod left, I stepped out from behind the wall and said out loud.

“Finally, I thought he’d never leave”. The rest of the guardians jumped back, and the Midgardian man said to me.

“How the hell are you here? We just saw you go with your not handsome uncle”.

“That was an illusion. He may have been able to detect my father’s tricks but luckily for me, I never pulled as much tricks on my uncle, so he won’t be able to tell until it’s too late”.

“What do you mean?” asked Gamora as I revealed my sword.

“I’m going to help you kill Thanos”.

*Time skip to Knowhere mid battle*

We were too late. Knowhere had been destroyed.  At first when Gamora made the attack on Thanos, I knew it was too easy and it was then we realized that he had gotten the Reality stone and showed us the Knowhere was already in flames, much like my ship had been.

He placed Gamora in front of him and Peter Quill (I had found out their names shortly after we took off) had his blaster aimed right at Gamora.  Once he pulled the trigger, bubbles came out of his gun instead of usual gunfire.

“I like you” Thanos said to Peter.

“Then you’re sure as Hel going to love me”. I then came down and managed a hard kick right at Thanos’ face.  I skid across what remained of the catwalk and withdrew out my sword.

“The Daughter of Loki, Princess of Asgard” he said.

“I am no Princess, and my father is dead because of you! I’m gonna make you pay for what you did to my people! And to him!” I twirled my sword and leapt forward and let out a rageful battle cry as I held my sword ready to attack.  Thanos soon disappeared from my sight but I felt him right behind me, I soon disappeared into a red beam of light just before anything could happen.

“You’re not the only one who can bend reality, you purple bastard!” I then appeared behind him and slashed him across the face with my sword before sending a powerful kick right into his chest.  Thanos was now down on the ground supporting a slash across his face and a dent into his chest plate armor.  I stood over him and I pointed my sword down at him and said to him the same words as he said about my father. “No resurrections this time”.

“Indeed”. Suddenly I grabbed by my hair.  Thanos disappeared into red mist much like before and I was turned around and the real Thanos stood behind me holding me much like he held my father.  “You are more sprightful than your father was, perhaps I should have sought you out to retrieve the Tesseract all those years ago instead of him”.

I squirmed in his hold as he now held me by the throat squeezing me, just he had done my father.

“But it would seem my child, you will suffer the same fate as he did”. Then something happened that not even Thanos could expect.  His eyes widened as he felt something go right through him.

“The Infinity stones you’ve obtained so far may have given you the powers of us Gods, but not even you can dodge an attack if you can’t see it coming!” Standing right behind me was me holding my sword piercing through myself in order to get right to Thanos’ weak spot.  He groaned in pain and that’s when I heard Quill’s voice say.

“Yeah! Take that yah big purple bastard! Way to go Princess! Now vanish that illusion and we’ll get the hell out of here with that gauntlet of his”.  I chuckled and said.

“You really think I’m the real (y/n)?” The me that spoke flickered red signaling that she was just an illusion.

“But—why? You damn, stubborn kid why’d you have to go all kamikaze on yourself?”

“It was the only way to ensure he at least got a scratch on him before he got anymore stones. That and for my uncle to see that at least one of us got to him for my father’s death”. My illusion spoke.  While the real me with my own sword still piercing through my stomach as well as Thanos’ smirked weakly and I choked out.

“Long live King Loki. Long live…..my father”. Thanos then kicked me and I phased through my illusion and the last thing I felt was weightless.  

I felt free, at least now he was weaker than when he started and at least now….I hoped my dad was watching this somewhere and that he was proud of me.  Wherever he was.  Next thing I knew, I was on solid ground, my sword pushed further into my back, the blade almost piercing entirely through, my arms extended outward like I had wings, my hair in full display around me like a Halo, and a pool of blood coating me as I felt the last ounce of life leave me.

And what I may have forgot to mention, my sword the one I had used to stab Thanos and give my life for the galaxy, was a gift from my father.

When I awoke, I found myself surrounded by bright light.  I felt around the center of my stomach to feel no blood or wounds whatsoever. I stood up and walked around before hearing a voice behind me say.

“I see you made it, my Princess”. I turned around and I saw a very familiar face.

“Heimdall” I stated happily.

“Welcome to Valhalla, your highness”. I embraced my mentor when I caught sight of another familiar figure.  The long black hair, the green cape, the different clothes after Sakaar and the battle of Asgard…..it was him.  I looked to Heimdall and he nodded to me once before walking away from me.

I cautiously walked up towards him, much like a frightened lion cub till I finally stood beside him.

“When you were first born, I looked down at you and said to myself ‘I am not worthy of this child’ ‘she deserves better’. And for years, I’ve continued that road with all my fake deaths and tricks. But when Thanos finally ended my life,” he fully turned towards me and placed both his hands on my shoulders as I refused to look at him not because of anger, but of guilt. “The one person who I thought was more than happy to see me gone, had proven me wrong,” my father lifted my jawline up so that I was forced to look my father in the eye as he continued, “With the heart of a lioness, and the strength and soul of a Valkyrie. You are the only person to ever truly land a blow to Thanos. And I….Am honored to call that person, my daughter”.

I remained silent until I finally broke down and embraced my dad as tight as I could.

“Oh, daddy I didn’t mean any of those things I said!” I sobbed out.

“Oh my sweet pet,” he separated me from him and I wept.

“I was just so angry and I—I am proud to be called your daughter, I hoped that you would be here. I didn’t want to be alone anymore, and I said to you…..I said that I hated you, I hurt you and….”

“Hey, my sweet girl, it’s okay, it’s okay”. He held my head over his heart as I whimpered out.

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry for everything I—”

“All is forgiven, all is forgiven my sweet,” he whispered comfortingly.  He held onto me tightly as I snuggled further into his embrace.

We now sat together looking at Valhalla’s endless paradise garden together watching the sunset. I was leaning against my dad’s lap as I felt his hand softly stroke through my hair and scalp.  Now knowing that even in death, my father and I would still be together for eternity and I would not have it any other way.

[whitelionspirit]

Goes bump in the night (Lance x Reader)

A/N - Happy Halloween everyone! I have not posted anything for my bby here so I thought why not! Hopefully, soon I can get some of my other stuff out and I also hope you all are looking forward to the next chapter of Blue Violet because it is a good one ;).

wc - 2001

wc - fluff, slight angst, feelings man

The constant ticking of the clock made your eye twitch, as you tried to focus on the needle in your hold. Letting out a groan you flopped back on your bed and made the supplies fly everywhere. Letting out a sigh you stared up at the ceiling and frowned. It was Halloween and you had yet to finish your costume for tonight. You had never actually sewed a costume before, but you were determined to get it done. The only reason you were actually doing this was that of your fluttering feelings for your friend, Lance.

Between all of your friends, he was the last one you expected to fall for if you had fallen for any of them you figured it would be Keith. Even if he was your best friend, he was very much not attracted to you or anyone in general. Blowing out a puff of air you got back up and continued on with finishing the stitching on witches cape. The dark purple material shimmered as sparkles fell from it as you knotted the last stitch. A smile graced your lips as you stared down at your finished work.

“Finally it’s done! Matt owes me 30 bucks.”

Everyone knew about your massive crush on the Cuban boy and had placed bets on when you would confess to him. Since Lance loved Halloween so much he was putting on his annual Halloween party. Matt had bet you 30 dollars that you could not put together a costume in time for the said party. Oh, boy was he wrong, a satisfied giggle left your lips, as you made your way into the bathroom to get ready.

Pushing the hair out of your face you placed the witch hat on your head and adjusted it just so. Running your fingers along the hem you brushed the flowers that were sitting on its rim. Turning towards the mirror you carefully traced the black outline on your lips, the black paint on your nails shimmered as you moved them along your face tracing the designs etched on it. Take one more look over in the mirror you smiled in satisfaction as you pulled at the ends of your shirt dress.

“Well, this is it.” You mumbled as you made your way out of your room and out into the main living area of your shared apartment.

Keith leaned against the counter his gaze on the phone in his hand, looking up a small smirking played at his lips. He was decked out in a lion onesie, you stared at him before shaking your head.

“What?”

“You know exactly what cat boy,” you said as he pouted at your words.

“I want to be comfortable and besides this onesie is fucking awesome, and I paid a lot for this you know.” He said gesturing to the detailed material.

“Oh yes I do know you a giant nerd, now come on let’s go already.”

Keith sighed as he grabbed his keys and followed you out the door, grabbing your coat off the hook and tossed it to you.

the party was already in full swing as you pulled up to the house shared by Lance and Allura. How those two lived together was a mystery to you and everyone else. while they were both very outgoing the two were also very different. Lance was loud and boisterous, while Allura was sweet and organized. The two had dated for a time but ended up calling it off due to many disagreements. Though they were still really good things, and I guess that also helped in your case.

Keith kept his arm around your waist as he guided you both through the crowded house. It wasn’t hard to spot your friends with the loud chattering coming from Pidge who was perched on Hunk’s shoulders. You watched as she wrestled with Romelle who was sitting on Matt’s shoulders. A yelp left you as Keith swept you closer to him, looking up you were just able to see the couple next to you stumble over. Looking up at Keith and let out a laugh as he held you close to his chest.

“You alright, Y/N?” He asked softly as clung to him as he walked the rest of the way over to your friends.

“Y-yeah I’m fine thanks, Keith.”

He hummed in réponse as he let you disentangled yourself from his hold, his hood shadowing his face as he looked down at you. A small blush spread across your cheeks, quickly before disappearing. A loud laugh from behind caught your attention, making you turn to see Lance as he walked out of the kitchen towards you. his eyes lit up as he saw you standing there, making way for the same blush to appear but deeper as he got closer.

You felt Keith’s hand on your back as he pushed you forward into the arms of the awaiting Lance who just smiled down at you as he caught you.

“Hey, there nice of you to drop in literally,” your cheeks hurt as another laugh left you.

“Umm yeah well here I am.”

“Indeed,” he said as he fist pumped with Keith and walked you over towards the others.

“Hey look who finally decided to show their faces!”

Hunk looked over a smile already greeting his features as he hugged you both before handing you off to the others. Pidge smirked as she slapped 30 dollars into your hand squeezing it. Her glasses flashed with mischief-making your heart drop slightly.  you knew that evil look in her eye, she was plotting something and you did not like it one bit. You watched as she slipped out from the group, her lab coat disappearing into the crowd.

“Fuck me,” you said as you leaned against the wall.

“What was that, Y/N?” Lance asked as he joined you.

“Ah nothing I’m just tired is all I have an early class tomorrow so I am dreading going to it is all.”

He nodded in understanding he to. had an early class tomorrow that he loathed just the same.

“I like your costume by the way, is it true what Matt said you put it together yourself?”

Biting your head you nodded not able to get the words out.

“That’s awesome Y/N! Really Allura wanted us to match this year, mermaids I guess was the down deal according to her,” He chuckled softly as he took a sip from the red cup in his hand.

“Want some?” Shaking your head no he shrugged as he finished off it off.

You looked him over as he turned away to grab more punch, your heart fluttered at the sight of his not so concealed muscular built. The scales along his body shined in the fluorescent lights making them glow but and white. Biting your lip you clutched the edges of the scarf that connected to your cape. He really was a mysterious creature that you were very eager to explore.

A loud commotion caught your attention making everyone stop and look towards the middle of the room. You raised an eyebrow at the small frame of Pidge as she stood on the table and grinned down at everyone as if she was superior to them all.

“Alright, alright who is ready for the real fun to begin!” she said making everyone cheer in excitement.

“Oh, man are they actually going through with it!”

Looking over your shoulder Matt yells excitedly as he poked Shiro who just shuck his head at his antics. You looked to the others for confirmation who just shrugged not really knowing what was happening. A soft sigh came from next to you, a hand landed on your shoulder making you stiffen slightly only to relax at the sight of Lance as he appeared in front of you.

“Keep close to me, okay,” He whispered as he wrapped his arm around you and held you close.

“Everyone to the basement! It’s time for the haunted house!”

A shudder ran down your spine as everyone pushed forward toward the kitchen where the entrance laid. You kept close to both Keith and Lance who stood on each side of you. Screams could head through the door as it shut closed behind another group who ventured down. You noticed both Allura and Lotor had yet to appear tonight so you could assume they were downstairs scaring people. Squeezing Keith’s hand he looked back at you as the door opened again. “Hey, it’s okay if you don’t want to go in we can step out of line,” He said trying to reassure you.

A soft smile graced your lips, as your eyebrows knitted together thoughtfully.

“I’m okay, Keef really just a bit jumpy is all,”

“Okay.”

A shiver left you as hot breath touched the shell of your ear.

“Don’t worry for I will protect you,” Lance whispered making your face heat from the slip of Spanish he let out.

“Alright, next!” Pidge shouted as the door swung open for you to finally enter the basement.

Keith steps forward pulling you along, making lance who clung to your back follow from behind. The three of you made it down several steps before the door slammed closed behind you making you all jump at the sound. it was completely black as you slowly stepped off the last step into the basement.,

“Okay guys I have no idea what they have planned, but I do know this place pretty well so just keep walking forward and we should be okay.”

You nodded as the two boys moved so you were secured between them both. a shuffling from the right made you stop before a loud scream was heard as someone scared you. A yelp left your mouth as Lance’s grip on your waist tightened. Keith growled as he walked toward making your hold on his onesie tighter as you forward. A few jumps scare later you were finally out of the basement and in the backyard where everyone had already exited. A sudden sob left you which left everyone baffled as you clung to the back of Keith’s costume. Lance scoped you up in his hold, making you let go of your best friend. Both men turned to their attention to you as you continued to sob in Lance’s hold. “Shit, I knew we shouldn’t have gone in,” Keith sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Hey, hey Y/N it’s okay sshhhh,” Lance said as he whispered as you walked back into the house.

“Hey, you can go find the others I’ll take care of her okay?”

Keith nodded as he left the two of you alone in the living room, your crying had come downed a bit as he held you close.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” He asked softly biting his lip in worry.

“I-I think so now at least,” Letting out a wet cough you cuddled closer into his embrace.

Sitting down Lance laid you out on the couch as he placed your head into his lap. Running his fingers through your hair soothingly. your eyes fluttered softly at the touch making all your anxiety to slide off your shoulders.

“Hey. umm, I was wondering I know this probably is, not the not the best time to ask. Did you want to go out sometime with me?”

It was silent for a moment at you proceed what was just said.

“I know it’s sudden but I’ve liked you for a while now, and I just really wanted to ask is all.” A soft laugh left you as you looked up at him and smiled.

“I would love to go out with you, Lance I was hoping to ask you myself but you bet me to it,” He smiled down at you as he continued to play with your hair.

“Happy Halloween, Y/N.”

“Happy Halloween indeed.” You said as you closed your eyes at the soothing touch.

[essilt]

Fic: Mnemosyne’s gift (WIP)

Autors: @katerina150 , @essilt Theseus Scamander / Leta Lestrange, Canon Het Relationship, Het, Alternate Universe, Epistolary, Drama, Romance, Family Feels Notes: BC THEY ARE OUR BBS AND JFC WE JUST CAN’T! Notes2: We’re sorry for mistakes, english isn’t our native language. Sum: Fantastic Letters and what are they hiding.

ao3 link

Chapter 4: The Corvus IV Lestrange's cunning plan

It was oddly, but they met again at the ball. Mr. Scamander and Miss Lestrange were invited to the annual Christmas Ball at the Ministry of Magic and, of course, separately.

Theseus led the Auror Department in 1925: the war hero, who was one of the first to go against the emergency legislation of Minister Archer Evermond. He returned from the mainland at the end of 1918, started from scratch under the guidance of Torquill Trevers and literally took off on the career ladder. The position and aura of heroism made his Irish appearance much more attractive in the eyes of the majority of free girls for betrothal, but Theseus was equally formally amiable with all of them. It was rumored that his heart was broken.

Leta Lestrange was a Hogwarts graduate, as well as Theseus. She once was friend to his younger brother Newt - and even for a couple of years she imagined she was in love, or maybe Newt imagined that for himself and for herself. Once she spent the whole summer at the Scamanders: communicated with the whole family and enthusiastically watched the hippogriffs. Theseus had often heard about her before: Leta Lestrange was at the tip of the tongue of a non-talkative Newt. Although the circumstances of the very first meeting could hardly have passed for auspicious, when Newt was expelled from Hogwarts, and his older brother had to push thresholds in the pose of the petitioner. Theseus never thought that he would communicate with this girl seriously. He was almost ten years older, she was from a different social circle. He went to war early, she continued her studies, learning how to do magical sciences as Muggle ones, and this was what later allowed her to work in the ministry, and not her father’s money, as many thought. Of course, they happened to cross at Trevers' department, but hardly all of these meetings could have passed for the renewal of acquaintance.

Theseus went to the reception without much inspiration: on the Christmas eve, Mrs. Scamander (Ma, as her sons called her among themselves) depressed by the blatant celibacy of both, in turn brought down her bad mood for a hopeless future, a lonely old age and other mischief from the day they were born. Newt crawled into himself, as if in a sink, and silently suffered, Theseus languidly dissuaded as just as languidly threatened not to come next Christmas, if these conversations did not stop. But Ma, having read the gossip in the Daily Prophet, where were only notes about beautiful lonely young women, went to storm with the determination of a soldier who had no other maneuvers left and who ignored the threat - especially since they never were performed.

"Do not roll your eyes, Theseus Scamander!" She always called children only by their full name being in anger. “You're worse than brother. You're almost forty. Almost forty, Theseus! Soon you will have no chance! You can expect only a twice-divorced woman or a widow with children from previous marriages!"

"Mom, are you sure that this is a suitable conversation before the ball?"

"This is always a suitable conversation!" She pursed her lips. "Theseus, I can not live forever, who will take care of you twenty years later? You think it'd be your brother who can't even take care of himself?"

Theseus thoughtfully considered a tuxedo.

“Mom, in the name of Merlin, I and Newt live our own lives a long time ago, and if I need a nurse one day — although I hope I won't get to such misery — I will just hire her. Marriage, as far as I know, is not for this."

“Of course not,” she snapped back, catching a subtle subtext. She paused and called on the other side: "Soon I will be too old to raise my grandchildren..."

"Grandchildren are for joy, mom. For everything else, you can hire a nanny."

"What can you know about this!" She let a little tragedy into her voice, and then got angry: "You measure everything with money, Theseus. Gathered all this of Muggles."

“Mom, money is convenient, after all, why not use it,” Theseus shrugged his shoulders, took the fresh issue of the Prophet from the table. "Well, and who do you offer me as a bride? Let's go through the list. The first in it turned eighteen last spring, and I, as you kindly and fairly reminded me, am almost forty..."

Mother snatched the newspaper out of his hands and threw into a corner.

"Don't clown around! You might think that there are no brides outside of this list!" Now the drowning man’s prayer sounded in her tone distinctly: “You had that girl in France... Why not marry her!"

"I am sure there is, but my work does not allow to communicate with them. With that girl, as you call her, there was a relationship that did not include the concept of marriage." He didn’t lift an eyebrow when his mother portrayed something between indignation and embarrassment, and ruthlessly added: “In the name of Merlin, mother, that time there wasn’t any relationship to marriage."

"So, you must work less!"

“And a woman who has worked all her life tells me this,” Theseus could not refrain from an ironic smile.

"It did not stop me from having two children!"

Theseus took a deep breath and folded his arms across his chest. Poor Newt is probably listening to all this.

"I do not argue." He tried to go on another truce, letting a little sincerity into the conversation: "I just didn’t meet a woman I don’t want to let go. And who'd endure me. No one likes redheads."

“Well, that is, we are to blame with your father, it was us who gave birth to you the redheads,” said Mrs. Scamander’s voice with a harsh note hinting at humility, and Theseus embraced her.

"Do not worry. If Newt and I are lucky, you will have daughters-in-law and grandchildren. You will grumble when they will overrun the house and climb where they don’t ask..."

"I will not live till that moment with such sons!"

Mrs. Scamander said this loudly enough for Newt to hear every word too.

***

Leta Lestrange was preparing to the ball alone. She received strict instructions from her father. Everything about her rebelled at the thought of what these instructions were about, but her tongue did not turn around to say "no". Corvus IV Lestrange had enough of a glance so that all the Leta's rebellious nature, who did not let anyone in Hogwarts descend, would wilt and freeze. The secret, shameful fault, about which it was impossible to make and sound, immobilized her and the overwilling glance smeared Leta at the feet of the father with a thin layer. You want to earn my trust, said this glance, you need my forgiveness, you should try and be a good girl, then I will approve of you - and Leta mentally replied: "Yes, Dad." Her father's authority was still indisputable for her.

She gathered her hair in a neat strict knot and stabbed her with sharp raven feathers. A black silk dress with a train and straps crossed at the back, studded with glass beads and sequins, was put on right on a naked body. Black velvet shoes on a tall thin heels, walking on will be almost an art. Her favorite silver snake with emerald eyes wrapped around her arm, from shoulder to wrist. The jewelry belonged to her mother - in fact, it was the only thing which Leta inherited by her mother.

***

She was late for the official start of the celebration and appeared in the ballroom when the performance had began and the frail ballerina, making the pas in her flying white robe, let go of the shawl into the air - but the performance did not interest Leta, she only looked ahead.

And it was Theseus Scamander ahead. Her Aim. Of course, they were familiar and although they didn’t really communicate for many years, moreover, Theseus was the first after precious animals that Newt could talk about incessantly: he found a thousand and one more reason to be angry with his older brother and to condemn him - and desperately admired him. So Leta, unwittingly, knew about Theseus Scamander much more than it was decently to know a young girl about a man almost ten years older; and since Newt Scamander was her the very best, the most intimate — and the only — friend, she involuntarily took from him an explosive mixture of condemnation and admiration for Theseus. They were even lucky enough to spend the whole pre-war summer together, when Mrs. Scamander invited her younger son's girlfriend to stay with them on holidays. Theseus was tall, scrawny, red-haired, freckled, just like Newt, wore a canvas shirt with rolled up sleeves and pants with suspenders, preferred to tinker with the rod and fishing line without the aid of spells, and he had an unusually ordinary girl. Nothing foreshadowed the hero of Arras, Messina, and Amiens.

Theseus was at the other end of the ballroom and noticed immediately the excitement among the guests and his reason. Silk dress to the floor, flowing gait, dark skin with an olive tinge. Densely dilated eyes with languishing and barely touched lipstick lips. At first it seemed to him that she was looking for someone, then - that it was him with Leta Lestrange met her eyes. Not for long: just a moment or two. He was amazed how lonely she seemed. Theseus did not follow her life intentionally, but he read the issues of the Daily Prophet, where were often published articles about her and all the enviable brides of the wizarding world, including Leta Lestrange, who, even crossing her twenty-five year line, did not lose ground in the top ten. He was even interested, because Leta occupied a considerable place in Newt's life - until the number of her supposed suitors reached ten. Then Theseus just stopped looking through the column about the secular life of the magical community.

She seemed relieved to see an old acquaintance.

They met with their eyes every now and then, until the performance was over, then the crowd separated them. Theseus was distracted by the conversation Minister of Magic Fowley, Leta was pulled aside by familiar witches from pureblood families. It took a good quarter of an hour and a lot of tricks and tiny steps in the direction of the Aim, before Theseus and Leta finally found themselves face to face.

“Oh, Miss Lestrange!” greeted Fowley. "How are you tonight? Do you enjoy the show?"

“This is a wonderful evening, Minister,” Leta gave Fowley a hand for the duty of the kiss and turned her gaze to his companion, nodding in recognition. Theseus tilted his head in response.

“Miss Lestrange, I regret that your father could not attend our Christmas party, but I am glad that you decorated it with your presence. Of course, you are familiar with our heroic Head Auror, Theseus Scamander, but it will not be superfluous to introduce you to each other again. Theseus, this is Leta Lestrange, the daughter of a respected friend of the Ministry."

Leta smiled radiantly.

"My father was very sorry that he could not attend, and asked me to convey to you wishes of well-being and remind you of the return visit, which was previously promised. Mr. Scamander, glad to meet you again," she gave a hand to Theseus.

How tall is he! She forgot. Or maybe in childhood it is natural that everything around is much higher. Leta had to throw her head back to look at Theseus' eyes, but he easily relieved her of the inconvenience, leaned in the old-fashioned way to kiss his hand, and did not raise it to his lips, as almost all men now did, trying to get rid of conventions.

"Mutually, Miss Lestrange."

She was so busy thinking about his height that she didn’t have time to think about his voice. Theseus detained her hand in his not longer than decency required, but Fowley did not allow the conversation to develop.

"Yes, yes, Miss Lestrange, I will definitely return the visit, would you like to accompany me and see our program?"

Leta had no choice but to agree. She wouldn't to refuse the Minister with whom her father was friends, although at that moment she wanted to stay and speak with a completely different person. Theseus was forced to accompany the wife of the Minister, a strict fair-haired lady who set off her bright charismatic husband.

The program of the evening included several more dances and a magician's nice performance, combined with drinks and light snacks. Leta was next to the Minister, realizing that Theseus Scamander was standing behind her. Directly behind. Touch me, she mentally repeated, touch me - until she realized that it was not an order, but a request. She really wanted to know how Theseus Scamander touches a woman, appreciate what is waiting for her, check with her skin whether all this chatter about a broken heart is true - although she already senses: not true... She even shifted her shoulder blades, almost feeling his fingers glide on her back. When white snow, so similar to the real one, began to fall from above and began to turn into flowers right in the air, she turned around and saw an asphodel flower in Theseus’s hands. Strong hint! Guessing how far the Head Auror could be suspected of indecency, Leta turned away as soon as she caught his return glance, and spoke to the Minister about something unimportant.

During the reception, her friends surrounded her again, without giving a minute of peace. Conversations, on-duty smiles, fake wishes of well-being, gossip, invitations to spend the weekend at someone’s estate or in the mountains, or at the springs. “And let's flight to Bulgaria!”, “Yes, yes, it’s very good there now, snow, they say, piled up, you can ski. I like to descend from the springboard "and so on and so forth. Her head ached so much that, after apologizing, Leta moved away, pretending to have a snack. She would not be reproached: the appetizers were excellent, to match the champagne. In the absence of a good cook, the current minister could not be blamed.

“Persephone plucked the asphodel flower, and the firmament of the earth opened up before her, from which the four dark as the night of horses escaped, and the underworld king Hades ruled it..."

She shuddered, turned around - and came under the spell of Theseus Scamander's smile. And, oh Merlin and the Holy God, this growth...

"Sorry, seems to me I've scared you."

"Don't worry, Mr. Scamander, I'm just surprised. Do you like ancient myths and legends? Or do you want to put my vigilance down?" hinting at the most innocuous name, Leta pointed at the flower.

Theseus laughed, and the asphodel disappeared.

“My job is, these myths not to become a reality, Miss Lestrange.”

“I hope that today you are not here to work, Mr. Scamander,” Leta smiled and took a sip of champagne. Her head was spinning slightly.

"No, today I intend to rest. Do you like ancient myths and legends?"

“Some ...” She paused, trying to get at least one suitable memory out of her: “I remembered, in my youth, I was amused by the legend that one hero went down to Hades and unsuccessfully sat down on the wrong chair. We often laughed at this with Newt."

Theseus grinned, apparently realizing what kind of legend it was. Newt once said that his brother in school was also teased by the misadventures of the great Greek hero, not always successfully, which, of course, was reflected in the number of points of his faculty.

Taking a sip of whiskey, Theseus leaned toward Leta a little closer.

“I argue that it was Newt who told you this Athenian gossip, it will be from him. And I'm not at all surprised, considering how my brother likes to laugh."

"How is he?" Leta did not retreat, only elegantly intercepted canapés from a passing by tray.

"He returns from his long journey soon. I think it will linger for a while in our area."

Damn well with his height sits a tuxedo, that's what, Leta thought - or champagne helped her think so. Newt wouldn't ever be dressed like this - noone would ever have a chance to rake him out of his beloved coat.

“Does Newt still love his outlandish animals?” Leta smiled, recalling the scary care of Scamander Jr. about his strange, but in her own way beautiful pets. “Does your mother still breed hippogriffs?”

“Yes, to both questions,” Theseus finally smiled sincerely, making his face completely transformed. Leta did not expect that his smile would make such a strong impression on her. "Newt is collecting material for his book, which he has been writing for many years, and mother is waiting for him to show another brood. And to persuade to find a more rewarding occupation..."

Talking about Newt awakened a cat named Feeling of Guilt from a lethargic sleep, and before she began to sharpen her claws about her soul, Leta changed the subject.

"Mr. Scamander, I spent a wonderful summer in your house, I still remember with tenderness."

In the eyes of Theseus it was clear that these memories are shared.

“You had lovely curls, Miss Lestrange.”

“I hated them,” Leta portrayed disgust, “and with pleasure got rid of them!”

"It does not matter. They were all the same cute."

"You are really pushing me to return them!"

“I never thought that my opinion is so important,” he smiled again, and Leta had to take a sip of champagne, because he had his throat tight.

The snake on her hand raised her head sometimes or took a more comfortable position, so as not to interfere with the freedom of the hostess's gestures. A catchy, massive jewelry, which, perhaps, would have gone as clothes. Not the most decent thought, but war wiped out the tinsel of propriety in the first place.

"Will I survive the bite of your beast, Miss Lestrange?”

She was surprised - hard to say, feigned or sincere - and opened her dark eyes.

"What beast, Mr. Scamander?"

“This one,” Theseus stroked one of the metal rings with which the serpent wrapped Leta’s shoulder with his index finger.

The snake did not move. Leta traced the movement with her gaze.

"Oh!" She slightly raised her hand. “She doesn't bite... unless I ask.”

“Warned is armed,” said Theseus in a philosophical tone. "I will try not to give you a reason."

Between her beautiful full lips flashed dazzling teeth.

“I don’t think I’d let her harm you.”

“You still haven't say whether her bite is deadly, Miss Lestrange.”

"Let the answer remain secret."

“Well,” Theseus spread his hands, “I hope that in the extreme case I won't have time to understand anything!”

"We'll see, Mr. Scamander." - Leta brought the glass of champagne to her lips again, and Theseus felt a sudden — and as clear as day — temptation to kiss her. Snake lifted her head from the hostess's wrist and winked.

Damn French women, Theseus swore to himself, no one else can so cleverly put all these women's tricks into which it is so nice to get caught.

"Is your beast trying to tell me something?"

Leta frowned severely, noticing snake's maneuvers, and she peacefully settled down, becoming just an jewelry again.

“She likes you, Mr. Scamander.”

He thought that this could be a family joke of the year: the snake-bride. Why not, in the end, the Muggle fairy tale about the Frog Prince wanders around.

"Does she have a name?"

Leta drank some more champagne, and Theseus remembered of his whiskey.

"I suggest you come up with it."

“I’m not as good at handling animals as my brother, Miss Lestrange.” He grinned. "I can not guess."

"It's just a name, Mr. Scamander." For a moment, she opened her eyes wide. Then the dark eyelashes sank again, Leta moved to him at a small step and stood up on her toes to quietly add: “You will not do anything terrible if you give it.”

Her smell was so close: an unobtrusive smell, reminiscent of languor, which comes during the summer heat, with a slightly bitter cocoa mixture. There was an eternity between the girl with pretty curls, who was visiting Scamanders' house, and an exquisite young woman at the ministerial Christmas celebration.

Some excitement passed behind their backs; the official part must have come to an end. Leta retreated to a small step. The thought that he wanted her was as clear as the thought of a kiss, but not at all sudden.

Theseus reached out to stroke the snake again.

"I'm lost. Ago? Aminta?"

"Ago," Leta thoughtfully held out “o”. - "I like it."

"And your beast?"

The snake lifted her head, shook her, and winked again, twisting around Leta's wrist.

"She flirts with me, Miss Lestrange?"

“I don’t see anything wrong, Mr. Scamander,” Letha laughed. The official tone has finally turned into a playful one. "I think many women in this ballroom would like to flirt with you."

Theseus spread his hands.

"Today they have no chance against your beast."

"It flatters her..."

Damn French women, Theseus thought again, damn French women, eternal punishment to the British for the Hundred Years War.

"And you?"

They met looks. Leta bit her lower lip - rather instinctively.

“I am a simple woman, Mr. Scamander, of flesh and blood.”

Theseus paused, looking for an answer.

"Is your beast jealous?"

“I didn't notice.”

The conversation became extremely ambiguous, the available reserve of the ability to flirt was exhausted, and in the large ballroom the invisible musicians played the fashionable Muggle Quictime Foxtrot and Charleston, and Theseus leaned old-fashioned to kiss Leta's hand again.

“Then she won't mind if I invite you to dance.”

That was a statement.

"Of course, Mr. Scamander."

"But I warn you that I am not very strong in this."

"Do not worry, I will teach you."

He tried to focus on something less provocative than, damned all the French women, she has no underwear, not even the thinnest bottom shirt, it was enough to put an arm around her waist to realize it. On how small she was: even on heels, Leta barely reached out to the top of his shoulder. On how gentle her fingers, decorated with elegant rings, are golden-brown, soft. On an unusually chiselled jaw line, especially noticeable when Leta slightly tilts her head to the side. On how softly she slips in the dance and imperceptibly guides not the most skilled partner.

On the fact that he did not want to let her go.

His smile made her heart beat faster, and Leta tried not to think about it. As for “not very strong”, Theseus Scamander, perhaps, lied: he did not stepped on her legs, he caught all her unobtrusive clues, and they had never encountered neighboring pairs.

“I've heard you were at the war, Mr. Scamander,” Leta spoke in a surprisingly calm voice, although she had almost been shaking with emotion. "What was it like?"

"I would not like to talk about it now, Miss Lestrange, I do not want to spoil the evening. Let's just say war is not an easy walk."

Someday he will tell her everything. For some reason, Leta had no doubt that this time would come. Or the champagne did not doubt - it does not matter.

“And you have scars?” Typical female curiosity pushed her to such an intimate question.

“Yes, Miss Lestrange, I have scars.”

"Will you show me them?"

Theseus did not answer, squeezed her fingers harder and put it on his shoulder, pressed with his palm. Then pulled her closer. The flashes of the wizarding photographers flickered around, and Leta thought that their pictures would be in all the columns of secular news in the morning, but she didn’t care.

By the end of the first dance, Leta understood that her father’s plan went to dust, as her own. They spoke with Theseus less and less often and over the last quarter of an hour they exchanged well if a dozen phrases. It is strange that after all the talk this evening it was so pleasant to just be silent. The third and fifth dances followed the second dance, the score lost its meaning. One of them will certainly end with the fact that they just cling to each other and will be just stay so close. Is that so easy?

"Can I take you home?" Theseus asked when the evening was almost over.

“Of course, Mr. Scamander,” she smiled, letting him put a mantle on her shoulders. Theseus himself ignored the rules and wore a coat of Muggle cut. They left together and, after passing a sufficient distance to the required point, transgressing near the pompous London house of the Lestrange family, where they always moved into the season.

Her father went away on business to the estate, leaving Leta alone to carry out his plan, which had already become her own.

“Do you want to come in, Mr. Scamander, drink some more whiskey? Father has a Muggle collection." Leta turned to Theseus, who was ready to say goodbye.

“With pleasure, Miss Lestrange.”

In the hall, Theseus helped her to take off her mantle, and left his coat and hat on a hanger. The house was quiet, dark and almost empty. The maids, probably, had already gone to bed, the house elves hid — not surprisingly, it was already past midnight, she noted. There was no dream in one eye. She lit a fire in the fireplace, a gleam played on Theseus' brown hair. He waited. Remembering the excuse that lured him here, Leta gestured to his father's study, opened a cupboard lined with pot-bellied bottles, and glanced absently at them.

"What kind of whiskey do you prefer, Mr. Scamander?"

“Miss Lestrange, I prefer not a whiskey.”

The next question literally hung in the air. Leta froze for a second and walked slowly toward Theseus. He waited, but Leta could not escape from his gaze. She raised her hands, buried her fingers in Theseus' hair, crumpled, ruffled, smeared with briolin's hands.

“I wanted to do this all evening,” she whispered, smiling at his bewilderment, “I dreamed of seeing them free.”

"And I wanted this all the evening," Theseus pulled her to him and kissed her.

Then everything happened instantly. In a split second. They kissed, as long as the air was enough, fumbled with their palms on their clothes impatiently, kissed again. Not here, she whispered, and he nodded automatically, of course, not here, though whom to peep; the thin straps of her dress, studded with glass beads, were the most important threat, because hell-take-it-easier-tear. Leta laughed silently, bared long and even teeth, whispered that the dress was worth a fortune; Theseus, close to despair, was looking for a secret "lightning", loops, buttons, and finally, gritting his teeth, he said - no more than the salary of the Head Auror. Leta laughed again and finally relented, sent his fingers to some intricate clasps, disguised by the same glass and sequins; one movement - and the dress was gone. And under it, indeed, there was only naked Leta, as smooth and soft as silk, which rolled from her as a black wave onto the carpet, and she remained standing - the continuation of this wave, dark, olive, golden, with a neat chest, a clear-cut waist and tough hips. She took her feet out of her shoes, and gracefully descended onto the carpet, as she came down from the platform, and turned out to be unexpectedly even smaller than Theseus thought. The snake flowed down from her hand, curled over the dress peacefully and covered her emerald eyes, Leta stood up on her socks for a new kiss. Her palms stained with bryoline had already spoiled the tuxedo, bow tie, vest and ruthlessly took hold of the shirt; not here, for the sake of Merlin, she repeated, there is bedroom, and Theseus hoarsely demanded: show. The dress and the tuxedo were left lying on the carpet, woven like lovers, Leta found herself in Theseus' hands, prompted the way into his ear: up, to the right, straight, the door, the next door... not the door in that sense... The handle clicked, they burst into the bedroom, dropped something on the way, Leta gasped, and they began to undress again. The shirt went to the floor, Leta took up the satin belt, then the buttons on the pants, brisk experienced fingers fluttered from one to the other...

“By all the rules, Mr. Scamander,” she purred fiercely, and Theseus sealed her mouth with a kiss, interrupting conversations and spurring on actions.

They stumbled in the dark, collapsed on the bed awkwardly, Leta gasped again; pulled Theseus to herself, let out a low, hungry moan when he thrusted into her, she wrapped her legs around his waist, eagerly moved her hips to meet, felt his back from the loins to the shoulder blades, every vertebra and every rib... Her tongue touched his cheek. The rhythm of the movements - towards, away and towards again - became more harmonious and stronger. The groans became a bit less hungry - it seemed so.

***

The snow outside the window poured more, caught the light of the lanterns outside the window, threw a small scattering of reflected light into the windows. Leta threw off the blanket when Theseus tried to cover her. She was not cold at all: burning maternal blood, even diluted by the British aristocratic, glacial, remained hot enough to warm the naked body inside. Darkness hid her, transformed her dark skin into ebony-black; Theseus did not trust his eyes - tactile memory covered many times more. And was more receptive. More precisely. All this time, there were a thin stockings on Leta; by touch they did not differ at all from her skin, it is not surprising that they went unnoticed. One garter dissolved, stocking moved to the middle of the leg. Theseus pulled him down, lay down at the foot of the bed, untied the satin ribbon, and pulled off the second, held his bare foot in his palm, stroked his ankle.

Leta giggled, wiggled her fingers.

“Ticklish,” she explained in a whisper when Theseus looked at her. "Accio wand..."

“No, that doesn't work like that,” he grinned.

"It works!" She made an angry growl. "You hinder me to concentrate!"

"On what?"

Leta did not answer. Her hairstyle was hopelessly ruined, and Theseus idly pulled the rest of the feathers out of the hair. He spread the strands on the pillows, buried his face in it. At the roots, her hair was slightly damp from sweat and smelled of not expensive perfumes or rubbing, they smelled... just as Leta, as she smells, probably after a bath. Or now, in bed.

Her wand swam into the room: a little uncertain, as if it was also blind in the dark. Then it became clear that they did not even bother to close the door when they burst into the bedroom.

“Lumos,” Leta said.

The light was faint, a little golden, warm; everything that Leta touched became warm.

“You agreed to show me your scars, Mr. Scamander.”

He grunted and fell on his back, spread his arms. Leta’s wand absentmindedly levitated in the air, while Leta herself, sitting on her heels and biting her lip with zeal, examined his body.

"Where does this one come from?" She poked at the round scar under the collarbone.

"From Amiens." Theseus stroked her knee, raised his palm higher. This was the best of all in appearance and in touch: an exciting, carved transition from hip to waist, steep, like that of an amphora, a drop from wide to narrow. "This latest bullet went diagonally, pierced a lung ... I was lucky to be right through. I stayed in the hospital for about two months or so, and then I was commissioned."

"Right through? Is the same on the back?"

Theseus nodded. Letha opened her eyes wide. Her initial playfulness diminished.

"And this one?" Her fingers held across a wide long scar, which crossed the right side and stretched under the shoulder blade.

"I do not remember. One of the first operations. She was so-so prepared. We ran out of bullets, and the bayonets and sabers went into action."

“Why didn't you ask the healers to remove?”

"It's not face." Theseus stretched and yawned.

He simplified intentionally the behavior and tone of the terrible thing he was talking about.

Leta bit her lip again. The next scar was under the ribs on the left side: uneven, ugly, as if a hook were being pulled under the skin, which fish were caught. She vaguely guessed that she left such traces.

"And this one?" Her fingers flinch when touched.

“And this one I got during the Hundred-Day Offensive. I ran into a wizard... I had to fight in a more familiar way."

“Did you carry a wand with you in battle?”

"Yeah. Behind the boot, instead of a knife. I even used it once... instead of a knife."

They met looks.

"You killed him?" Leta's voice has changed.

"Yes. Straight in the eye."

Her lips parted, but Leta changed her mind to speak. Looked away.

“Now I understand why you are the Head Auror,” she said slowly.

“Because I can kill with a wand without magic?”

Leta shook her head.

"Because you do not fluctuate."

Instead of answering, he intercepted her neck, pulled her to him. The sharp face of the pagan goddess approached the face of Theseus.

“Nox,” Leta whispered. The light turned off.

Lips, on which there was no trace of lipstick, pressed to his lips, and Theseus realized that it was equally and absolutely not enough for both of them.

***

They fell asleep in the morning and woke up, barely beginning to get light, to make love again in tacit consent. Silent, like a backwater, Leta listened to his ragged breathe, his moans and tried to keep in mind how they sounded, how the muscles tensed, when he rested on his arms, lifting himself, pushing deeper into her; she tried to memorize the relief of his lean, sinewy, bony and heavy body, the location of the scars on his back, dug her nails in it, wanting to leave her marks on him, even if short-lived, and she vowed to herself that she would never have anyone, never, and then the orgasm cleaned all the efforts, all the oaths and all the hooks to which the memories clung.

It became quite light. He had to get dressed, thank her and leave. So do all random lovers, whose names and faces aren't remembered.

Why does she think about random lovers? She should not think about them. For their sake, she never wanted to throw a bathrobe, to go downstairs, to make coffee and to fry toast without any wands...

Is it also random for Theseus? Maybe that's why everything turned out so easily?

Something must have changed in her face, because Theseus smiled, touched her lips with his fingers. The movements were relaxed, as if he didn’t care about the morning and he wasn’t going anywhere.

"I thought you like my brother."

"No, I always liked you."

He laughed, and Leta laughed hastily with him: it can always be said that tears came out of laughter.

"You are a shameless little liar!"

“Okay, okay...” She dried her eyes. “Newt and I kissed once, when we were fifteen, and after that I decided that he was too good to allow him to plunge.”

Theseus raised his eyebrows.

“So I’m not good enough?”

“No, but I thought you were smart enough not to plunge.”

"Double shameless little liar!"

Letha felt that her lips were trembling, and turned away, pulled the blanket to herself. Yes, a liar, the liar, covering all life the most terrible deception. Even her birth was just a result of deception.

Theseus' fingers slid along her back, circling the vertebrae...

"Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head, but did not dare to turn to face him.

“I have to repent of something, Mr. Scamander.”

In his silence, bewilderment was most clearly felt.

“I’m not a Muggle the confessor, Miss Lestrange, and I don’t give absolution.” He also changed the tone.

"Anyway, I have to repent." She exhaled. "Everything that happened... there, at the celebration... and here, in this bed... it happened, because my father wanted it so."

She did not turn around, and Theseus was silent. It was silent for a long time. Life passed, then another, the universe ended, and the silence all lasted and lasted.

Finally it stopped with the simplest:

"I do not understand."

She needed to hurry to explain everything, because too much time had already been lost. Otherwise, others will explain.

"He wanted to have influence on the new Head Auror. And this way, this way... this is proven. And now I repent."

At last, she had the courage to look back.

Theseus looked at her without condemnation or contempt - and, as far as she could judge, he was still not going anywhere. Her heart failed.

"I was so bad?"

It was such an unexpected question that Leta’s tears dried out.

"No!"

They exchanged a tense smiles.

"Well, you seduced me. What was the future plan?"

Leta opened her eyes, unable to believe that he took her revelations so calmly, that he simply dropped its as irrelevant. Maybe Theseus did not understand what she just confessed? No, he understood. Almighty Merlin, he interests in her and nothing else? Nothing at all?

"To get into your trust."

“Congratulations,” Theseus said seriously. He sat down, gently took Letu by the shoulders, and peace enveloped her. "You got."

[gukyi]

fire and ice | kth

⇒ summary: you hate winter, but taehyung is here to change that.

⇒ jack frost!au

⇒ pairing: taehyung x reader

⇒ word count: 4k

⇒ genre: fluffity fluff fluff

⇒ warnings: excessive use of the word “snow”

⇒ a/n: a very happy birthday to the love of my wholest life, kim taehyung!!! this is in celebration of that loser’s birthday. also, i got a lot of good feedback for a jack frost au, so here it is!

Maybe Kim Taehyung is a bit reckless and a bit untamed, but he sure knows how to have fun. After all, he’s been doing this for three hundred years, give or take a few decades. It’s not like ‘fun’ is a foreign concept to him.

He’s always been like this, really, always looking on the bright side of things, trying to find a way to make his life more entertaining. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, and Taehyung is anything but dull, if he does say so himself. With his staff in his hand and the promise of winter on his fingertips, Taehyung lights up the lives of those around him. Only, they don’t know it’s him. Nobody does, really. That’s when being Jack Frost isn’t as cool (hah) as people think it is.

Jack Frost? Yeah, that’s Taehyung. He’s sure you’ve heard of him, heard of what he does. Bringer of snow and ice, the fucker behind all of the times you’ve slipped on the ice while walking down the sidewalk. Though, Taehyung likes to think he’s being funny, and that he brings more fun than anything else. The snow is just a bonus. But yes, Jack Frost, Taehyung, it’s all the same to him. He’s the one that brings winter to your front door, knocking on it with pale hands and a lopsided, boxy grin.

Not many people know who Taehyung is—or, Jack Frost, that is—besides him being “just an expression” (God, he hates that phrase), but you do. You always have.

That’s why you’re his favorite.

Kim Taehyung has been trapped as an eighteen-year-old ever since he became Jack Frost, felt the cold sweep through his blood and replace it with snow, turn his hair silver and his skin a frost-white, but he’s known you ever since you were little. He remembers you well, remembers how, the first snow of your five-year-old age, you stormed outside, looking like a puffy marshmallow, and stomped around in the snow. He remembers your mother telling you that it was Jack Frost who did this, trapped snowflakes in your hair and flurries on your face. He remembers you frowning, turning your head to the side, and declaring that you hated him.

He remembers being seen by you next. Remembers standing in front of you, frozen as ice, as you shouted.

He’s been with you ever since.

You’re something of a Scrooge when it comes to winter, always have been, and Taehyung thinks it’s hilarious. He always puts in the extra effort, when the moon decides for a sprinkle or a blizzard to befall your little city, to see how you’ve been doing.

Taehyung brings fun, brings snowball fights and sledding hills and snow days, to the people of the world, but he brings a little bit of mischief when it comes to you.

The look on your face never fails to make him beam.

The story you tell with Taehyung began at age five and has continued ever since, with him letting the wind take him back to you to bother you for another winter, without fail. Taehyung has watched countries rise and fall, seen towns build and decay, seen the world turn for over three hundred years, but you’re something of a strange constant in his life. Taehyung lost track of time by his second winter as Jack Frost, but you bring it back to him.

Maybe that’s why he’s always so drawn to you. There’s something about you that makes him wish he were still human again.

He remembers, vividly, the sound of your shrieks as he took your sled ride too far, his staff controlling the breeze that kept you flying through the air until you gracefully fell into a snowbank, heart racing. He remembers how, at night sometimes, when the wind is howling and Taehyung is creeping outside your window, he’d blow it open, letting flurries dot your windowsill and the wind wake you up. Remembers how he was the one behind the ice patch in the high school parking lot, the one that made you fall in front of that stupid crush of yours.

He relishes in how you scream his name without fail, every time something happens to you.

Taehyung loves winter, but he thinks he loves teasing you even more. After all, you hated the snow even before Taehyung barged into your life.

And when you pull up in your family’s driveway after your first semester away at college, jumping out of the driver’s seat to pull your suitcase from your boot, Taehyung looks on from the dogwood tree that grows in your front lawn, and decides that this is the winter where he’ll teach you to learn to love the snow.

With a flick of his staff, flurries surround you, soft snowflakes dotting your hair, eyelashes, black peacoat. He watches you as you pause, suitcase almost rolling away by your side, and stare up into the sky.

“Taehyung!” You shout, and it makes him burst into a fit of giggles. The sound of his melodious laughter makes you turn your head straight towards him, eyebrow raised in disapproval. “I’m back home for half a day and already you’re doing this?”

Taehyung flies down from the tree, landing softly in the thin layer of frost that dots the fading green grass of your garden, and smiles. “Thought it’d be better if I got a head start this year.”

“Whatever, I don’t wanna hear it,” you say, fighting the grin Taehyung can see wants to make its way across your lips as you reach for your suitcase.

Taehyung takes one look at the thing and decides that the fun starts now. With a kiss blown your way, he sends your suitcase flying, a sheet of ice underneath its wheels that makes it travel on its own. You almost topple over once your fingers realize your suitcase is no longer there, and it’s once you catch your breath that you see it taking a cruise down your sidewalk.

“Taehyung!” You shout again, hands curling into fists as you shake them vigorously his way. Taehyung, mid-air, is bursting into laughter at the sight of you, fruitlessly chasing after your suitcase as it slides on the ice he’s made. When he finally regains his senses, he freezes the suitcase, stops it from sliding into the road as you place a heavy hand on the thing, leaning over to catch your breath.

Taehyung flies over, a chilly hand on the small of your back. “You okay?”

“I hate you,” you say, narrowing your eyes as you scowl. “You always make winter so much worse.”

“Well, lucky for you,” Taehyung says, walking casually beside you as you wheel your luggage back up to your house, now a whole uphill battle away, “I’m here to change that.”

“Excuse me?” You ask, shocked expression taking over your face as your eyebrow raises in question. You look in disbelief, mild concern lacing your features as Taehyung grins.

“I’m gonna teach you to love winter,” Taehyung declares.

You roll your eyes, eyebrows furrowed in worry as you heave out a sigh, watch your breath dissipate in front of your eyes, already knowing you’re not going to be able to do anything to stop him. Taehyung laughs as he watches you, blowing a kiss your way as he flies off, ready to take on the world with you. His kiss bursts into a flurry in front of your eyes, and you blink as you watch the flakes fall to the ground, shaking your head fondly as you walk inside your house.

Taehyung, taking respite in the dogwood tree once more, smiles to himself, and wonders about tomorrow.

At seven in the morning, Taehyung busts through your window and blows a cold kiss onto your sleeping face, and it would be a ruder awakening if he weren’t so overwhelmingly attractive. Taehyung smiles warmly, a weird sensation for the literal embodiment of Jack Frost, as he watches you rub the sleep from your eyes.

“What the fuck!” You shout once you realize he’s here, but you immediately collapse back onto your pillow, curling away from him as you throw a pillow on top of yourself. “God, can you wait?”

“Nope,” Taehyung says, shrugging happily. “You’re learning to love snow, end of story.” He’s already asked the clouds today to bring a snowfall to your town. It’s too late to turn back.

“Now?” You groan. “You’re making my room all chilly.”

“Kind of what you get for being friends with Jack Frost,” Taehyung reasons.

Even from under your pillow, he can hear you scoff. “I’d hardly call us friends.”

Taehyung pouts. “I’m hurt, Y/N. We’ve known each other for so long and you don’t even think we’re friends?”

You pull the pillow off of you, sitting up in your bed, hair messy and a trail of dried drool down your chin, and smile helplessly. “Well, I guess we’re kind of like friends.”

Barely an hour later, Taehyung is tugging you off of your front lawn, sled in his hand, as he leads you to the best damn hill in town. He’s been down this hill so many times, seen kids sledding down it since there was a town built in this little part of the country, that he knows it almost by heart. Knows what makes the snow here tick, the wind blow.

“I don’t know about this, Taehyung,” you say hesitantly, eyeing the hill with worry. “I’m not a fan of the snow on better days.”

Taehyung laughs, takes your warm, human hand in his frosty one, and tugs you up to the top of the hill, where children have already started to gather in preparation for sledding down. Fire and ice, is what it feels like when your skin touches. He can do nothing but stay cool, emanates only a frost and a chill, but that sweet burning of the heat of your hand as it meets his turns him drunk, desperate for more.

“Come on, it’s not that bad, Y/N,” Taehyung begs. He motions to a kid beside you, a small boy no older than six, as he gets on his belly on top of the sled, and skids down to where his mother waits at the bottom. When he stands up, he erupts into giggles. “Please?”

“You first,” you say, handing the sled to him.

Taehyung shrugs, happy to take a turn, and jumps on, the momentum sending him flying forward. With a little bit of a push, he flips in the air as he’s sledding down, shrieking with joy. When he reaches the bottom, he sends you a thumbs up, feeling like he’s five-years-old all over again. You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your coat. He takes that as his cue to fly back up to you, handing the sled to you.

“Your turn,” he singsongs.

You look tense, a little cautious, as you settle in on the sled at the top of the hill. Taehyung loves the way you look at him for guidance, your worried eyes meeting his, sparkling in the sun as it beats down upon the two of you.

“Here,” he says. “I’ll wait at the bottom for you.”

Your eyes grow even more nervous.

“Don’t worry, okay?” He tells you. “I’ll catch you if you fall. I promise.”

With that, he flies down to the bottom of the hill, right in front of you, arms outstretched. With a nod of his head, he motions for you to go.

You shut your eyes the second you feel yourself sliding, instinctively beginning to scream—in terror or excitement, neither of you can tell. Taehyung watches you the entire way down, sees the way your open mouth slowly curves into a smile as you find yourself getting the hang of this sledding thing.

That is, until you hit a hidden rock buried in the ground, and you go flying off of the sled, right into Taehyung’s arms. As his back hits the snow, he laughs.

“How was that?” He asks excitedly, looking down to meet your eyes, where your head rests on his torso. “Did you like it?”

“It was a little fun,” you say, pursing your lips. “I’m sorry I made you fall,” you apologize.

“That’s okay,” Taehyung says, arms still wrapped around you as you sit up. “I said I would catch you, didn’t I?”

The next thing Taehyung does is take you back home, letting you dust off the snow that’s gotten into your boots and on the nape of your neck and along your bare wrists, where your gloves meet your coat, before chucking a snowball right at your chest.

“Taehyung!” You shout, shocked. “What the hell?”

“Welcome to your first snow day, Y/N!” Taehyung says as he forms another snowball in your hand, tossing it right at your torso. You yell again, but this time a smile is fighting its way across your face.

“Oh, you’re in for it now, Taehyung!” You shout.

Taehyung’s always loved the feeling of snow as it hits him. Call him crazy, but Taehyung loves the snow on his skin, how the cold seeps into his bones and sends a chill down his spine. Maybe that’s why the Man in the Moon made him Jack Frost. Because no matter what happens to him, he’ll always find a home amongst the snow, peace in a blizzard, happiness in the cold. Taehyung sees the light in the darkness, the fun in the frost. He always has.

He’s screaming as he runs, dodging your snowballs as you pelt them at him. The sound of his voice makes you laugh, a giddy look on your face as you finally sock him in the head. It makes him fall flat on the ground, laying on his back, and he smiles. Now you’re finally getting the hang of it.

“Get up!” You shout, a snowball already at the ready. “What, Taehyung? Too scared?”

Jack Frost? Scared of the snow? Unheard of. Taehyung conjures up another snowball in his hand, not even having to move, and it’s a split second between him sitting up and throwing it at you before you’re on the snow floor as well, beside yourself with giggles.

He flies over, juggling snowballs in his hands as he hovers above you. Your eyes are scrunched up into crescents as they look at him, bright and warm and lovely, just like you.

“Starting to like the snow yet?” Taehyung asks you, knowing smirk on his face.

“I will, once I win this snowball fight,” you say, taking a chunk of snow and throwing it right at his chest as you get up, cackling. Taehyung gasps at the feeling, surprised you’d pull such a low blow like that, and turns around, only to see you disappear behind the tree in your snow-covered garden.

“Can’t hide forever, Y/N,” Taehyung taunts, a sizeable snowball dancing between his fingers. “You’re gonna have to face me eventually!”

“Not if I can help it!” You shriek, quickly moving away from the tree to toss another snowball his way. He dodges easily, watches it fall and melt into the rest of the snow that covers your lawn like a blanket.

He approaches the tree stealthily, though it’s not like the two of you are totally unaware of each other’s locations. He can hear you giggling behind the trunk, soft laughter filling his ears with song. It almost makes him not want to chuck this snowball at you, but too little too late, and he’s pressing the ball of ice against your back with a victorious cry as you gasp.

“Taehyung!” You shout, ready to chase after him, but Taehyung’s got another trick up his sleeve (he always does, he’s Jack Frost, after all). As he pauses, meeting your eyes, he flies upwards, leaving you speechless and pouty as he rests on a branch that hovers above your head. “That’s cheating!”

“Not cheating if you can always do it anyway,” Taehyung jokes. He’s too high up for your snowballs to reach, but not high enough for your voice to be out of earshot.

“You’re such a little asshole,” you say, but there’s no insulting tone lacing your voice. Only fondness, a happiness that Taehyung doesn’t think he’s ever heard from you before. At least, not when you’re surrounded by snow. It warms his frozen heart, makes him feel like maybe, if he dreamt hard enough, he’d become human again. Human enough to let his warmth seep into yours, press kisses along your skin without it turning to frost.

Humans are weird, or at least, they are now that Taehyung isn’t one, but it’s people like you who make him wonder what might have been.

“Come and get me,” Taehyung taunts, tossing a snowball casually in his left hand as he leans back on his right.

“You’re too high,” you whine. “I don’t like the snow enough to try and get you to come down.”

Taehyung pouts at the mention of your dislike of his favorite thing that exists in the known universe. He knows you’re just teasing him. He can tell, from the way you bite your lip to prevent yourself from smiling, to the laughter that still echoes in his ears. He’s done his job but he doesn’t want to leave you just yet. He never does.

“Aw, really?” Taehyung asks, bottom lip out. “That’s such a shame. Guess I’ll just have to—”

“Taehyung!”

He’s fallen backwards, let his hands let go of the tree trunk that keeps him steady, and it’s the sight of your wide eyes that has his crinkling into smiles. His legs are hooked onto the branch, keeping him safely hanging above you, and he looks down to see you shaking your head, breaths quick.

“God, you scared the shit out of me,” you say, a hand on your heaving chest.

“Worried, Y/N?” He taunts. “You know I can’t die.”

“I know,” you say, sighing. “You just wear me out sometimes, you know? I feel like I need to always be near you.”

“Worn out?” Taehyung asks, and he doesn’t even need to see you nod before he’s sending his magic down to you. It lifts you up, brings you to him as you come to rest on the tree branch next to him. He swings his body back up to meet you, smiling at the sight of you so close to him. “Wanna rest up here?”

“I’ve never seen my garden from up here before,” you say, in awe of the view. It’s like you’re the rulers of your own little world, a kingdom of snow right in front of your eyes. Surprisingly enough, there’s nobody you’d rather be up with than Taehyung.

Taehyung can feel your body heat through your many layers, coat over sweater over shirt, hat pulled tightly over your head and gloves warming your fingers. He feels how it emanates off of you, like a cozy campfire you roast marshmallows over. Taehyung can’t remember the last time he was near fire, but being with you makes him remember the feeling anyway. You’re fire, warming up his heart and teaching him that even if he’ll live forever, there are moments which he cannot forget. Moments like these.

“Did you have fun today?” Taehyung asks, swinging his legs. One of his feet hooks onto yours, making you jump in surprise before you realize it was just him.

“A little,” you concede, and even though Taehyung knows you’re a liar, knows that you had way more than just “a little” fun today, he takes what he can get.

“Really?” He asks in excitement.

“Just a little,” you insist, though Taehyung can tell that even you know you’re fibbing.

“Okay, alright,” he says, rolling his eyes as he lets you pretend that today wasn’t fun. “Whatever you say, Y/N.” A finger reaches up to press onto the tip of your nose, making you scrunch it up.

“Your fingers are so cold,” you say, taking one of his hands into yours. You bring it up to his mouth, blowing on it with your breath, and he can feel the heat touch it before disappearing into his skin, leaving it cold.

“It’s no use,” Taehyung says, but he’s not sad about it. “I’ll always be cold, Y/N.”

“That doesn’t matter,” you decide, meeting his eyes. When he looks into yours, he can see beauty and wonder and love swirling in your irises. He wonders if you can see the pure adoration in his. “You’re warm to me.”

Hearing the words makes Taehyung do something he never thought he’d ever so, not since he became Jack Frost, bringer of fun. He places a frost-covered palm on your cheek and presses his lips to yours. Fire and ice. That’s how it’ll always be, the two of you. Fire on his lips and his tongue, ice as it decorates your hair and your skin.

When you part, Taehyung can see his breaths as he takes them, mixing with yours. He’s never been able to do that before.

“Glad I could teach you how to love the winter,” Taehyung says, and the smile that breaks out on your face is enough to warm him with the heat of a thousand suns. You’re all of the warmth he’ll ever need.

“I don’t love it just yet,” you remind him, eyebrow raised. His hands still rest in yours.

Taehyung shrugs, an idea lighting up his mind. “Then, I suppose I’ll have to come back tomorrow?”

You nod happily, and finally, finally, finally, Taehyung knows why he was always drawn to you. “I’d love to see you again.”

⇒ hmu with feedback or just talk to me here!

[emergenciesstory]

A girl worth fighting for

Words: 1,096

Summary: A long mission leads four teammates to discuss what they look for in a girl, and reader accidentally telling the girl she loves.

Pairings: reader x Natasha

A/N: This is for @caplansteverogers Disney Challenge! I’ve never done a song prompt, but I like how it turned out. I used the lyrics in it rather than just basing this fic of of it, and now I’m rambling so Im going to shush and hope you enjoy

You were so tired of this mission, being one of the longest you’d been on since joining five years prior. After three weeks of scouting, going undercover, and sharing close quarters with Sam, Wanda, and Steve, you were really missing having your own floor of the tower, alone and isolated for some quiet. Trudging back in to the hotel suite, you dropped your surveillance bag by the door and plopped on the couch between Sam and Bucky.

“Ugh, my feet are killing me.” You moan, throwing them in Sams lap and laying across the couch “Trudging through those woods every day, I don’t even think they have what they say they do.”

Sam chuckled softly, turning his attention back to the television for a minute before throwing your feet off his lap, jumping up with renewed energy.

“Drinks! We need drinks. I’ll call the Captain back from his run to bring some.” Running out of the room, he tripped over your bag, making a loud Thunk.

“Chill out there, birdbrain. You’ll break something.” Wanda mused after him before the door closed.

Smirking, you glanced over at Wanda, eyes never leaving her book in the windowsill. “Hey, no comment on my foot problem? The book you’ve read four times more interesting?”

She looked up at you, mischief in her eyes, shrugging her shoulders as a response, before simply stating. ”Think of instead, a girl worth fighting for.”

Her bold red hair flitted around her face, the slight breeze pulling it back. Her pale complexion glistened in the moonlight as she watched the city, oblivious that you were watching her. Her eyes sparkled always, but something made them brighter out there. Sitting on the floor near the edge of the balcony, it was as if you were floating on top of the world, but nothing matter besides her.

“What are you doing?” She smirked, bringing you back to reality.

“Nothing, just looking at something beautiful.” You shrugged.

“You’re sweet, y/n. Can’t imagine why no girl has scooped you up yet.” She laid down, setting her head in your lap, looking up to the stars. These moments, where she let her vulnerability show, were the ones you cherished. She was a hardass, always on top, but she let all of it go when it was just you. “You’re crazy smart, gorgeous, powerful. I’ll find you someone,” she continued after a moment. Standing, she offered you a hand before walking back into her door and closing it, leaving you standing alone.

“As long as it’s someone like you,” you whispered, before retreating back into your room.

Your face grew in heat, but you brushed off her comments, for the time being.

_________________________

*Hours Later*

There were empty bottles littering the tables and counters in the small suite. You and Wanda were curled into the large chair together, a tangle of limbs, with glasses in your hands. Steve sat against the windowsill, and Sam spread over the couch in a drunken stupor.

“Man, why do we even do this? Not like I’m going to meet anyone who will know what I do and fall all over me.” Sam muttered, taking another swig.

“Having trouble with the dames?” Steve laughed, standing to get another beer. Wanda looked at you and smirked, elbowing your side as you tried to shush her. While you were out to the team, your love life was not one you wanted to share.

“Nah never, Just sucks.” Sam sat up quickly. “Just can’t find that perfect girl.”

“There’s no such thing as perfect.” You giggled, not believing a word you said.

“Of course there is!” Steve exclaimed, returning with a handful of beers and passing them around. “My girl will marvel at my strength!” he exclaimed, sarcastically, pretending to punch Sam in the gut. Sam’s laugh bellowed as Steve continued. “Well, at least adore my battle scars.” His face grew red of embarrassment as he sat on the couch.

“Man I couldn’t care less about what she looks like, just what she cooks like.” rubbing his stomach, Sam grabbed a piece of pizza from the box on the table, “Beef, Pork, Chicken..”

“Alright macho man, all meat?” Wanda teased. Sam shot her a look and you laughed again, feeling the buzz of the alcohol.

“The local girls must have found you quite a charmer.” you raised your glass in toast.

“Hey, the ladies Love a man in armor,” he toasted his slice back before settling back into the cushions. Laughing, you all began talking about random things again, enjoying relaxing and the end of a long day.

________________

*weeks later”

“Please, man. I’m a major find.” Sam’s voice made you remove your headphones and continue to pack, listening in.

    “Yeah, okay. I’m sure there’s someone out there for you.” Steve chuckled. You heard thumping as the boys packed up their bags in the living area. “How did we get on this topic again?”

    “Because it’s been months without any action for Wilson and he’s got girls on the brain, all day long. Trust me, it’s some kinky stuff.” Wanda said, walking into the room to join you.

    “Hey! Stay out of my head!” Sam yelled, looking slightly offended.

    “Gladly,” Wanda smirked at him before closing the door. Turning to you she put on a smirk before sauntering to you, mocking Sam. “I have a girl unlike any other,” she sassed before collapsing on the bed by your suitcase and rolling her eyes. “Please, the only girl who’d love him is his mother.”

    “Ladies, we ready to jump on the jet? Take off in 10.” Steve knocked quietly.

    “Yeah, just one more second,” You called back, sighing. “If only I had a girl back home.” You both grabbed your bags and put back in your noise canceling Comms. Walking up the ramp into the Quintjet, Wanda turned to you.

    “Is Natasha a girl worth fighting for?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

    “I’d fight every day to call her mine, figuratively and literally.” You’d fight a thousand HYDRA operatives and fight for her attention, no matter the cost. She had been on your mind all month.

    “Good, because so would I.” Natasha’s voice rang through your comms. Looking into the pilots chair, you saw her smirk. “Glad I decided to come out to pick y’all up.”

    Your face turned bright red as you strapped your stuff into the cargo hold and took a seat in the copilots chair, buckling in and preparing to fly.

    “Y/n, you’re a girl worth fighting for.”