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wayward-dreamer · 4 years

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Life’s Lessons - Part 3

Title: Life’s Lessons - A Lesson in Faking It

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader (eventual)

Other Pairings: Dean x Lisa

Word Count: 5,342 (song lyrics in italics).

Part Summary: Monday morning is off to a bad start as Y/N’s car refuses to start, but she receives some help from Dean. As an IOU when he refuses to let her pay full price for the car service, Y/N invites him dinner. Realizing what it could imply, she backtracks and invites Lisa, too.

Warnings: Swearing, some angst, Lisa being aloof, social insecurities, alcohol consumption to deal with nerves.

Music: Out on the Tiles by Led Zeppelin (Dean and Y/N car scene), Back in Black by AC/DC (playing in the garage during Dean and Y/N garage scene).

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read so far, it’s been so great to hear your thoughts! Any thoughts, theories and feedback you have is always welcome, so don’t be shy to comment! It’s greatly appreciated! Happy reading and enjoy! :)

Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics! Check her out for all your AU needs!!!

Life’s Lessons Masterlist

Monday arrived too quickly for Y/N to be happy about it.

She had managed to get some revisions done on her lesson plans, so she was prepared for her classes in terms of content. She just hoped for the strength to deal with the kids this week. She really hoped this week would be better than her first.

She woke up as soon as her alarm went off and started getting ready. After her shower, she dried her hair and got dressed into a purple A-line dress, with a collared neckline. She wore her black, pointed toe shoes, that had a short heel, the most sensible heels for school. After applying a little bit of make-up, she fixed her hair and pinned it into a bun. Seeing that she had some time before she left, she made herself a quick breakfast, of yoghurt and fruit and a piece of toast with peanut butter.

Breakfast was a lot different at the Winchester/Braeden household.

Dean was at the stove, working on scrambling eggs. Ben placed plates on the kitchen counter, the bacon already crispy and done, on the counter already. As Dean turned to put the eggs on the counter, he lifted his arms up, as Lisa ducked underneath to get past him. She took out one ceramic mug and a travel mug, filling them both with coffee.

“I’ve got soccer try-outs after school, so I won’t be done until 5” Ben said, pouring himself some orange juice.

“I’ve got a meeting today and it might run late, so can you get him?” Lisa asked, putting Dean’s travel mug in front of him.

Dean took out some eggs on Ben’s plate. “Yeah, I’ll come get ya.”

“Thanks” she mumbled, fixing her own plate of breakfast.

Dean ignored her lacklustre response, as he practically shovelled food into his mouth. He was going to be late if they didn’t leave now.

“And then drop me off at my science partner’s house. We’re working on a project together” Ben explained.

“Sure” Dean nodded, as he ate.

“They’re going to bring you back home, right?” Lisa asked.

Ben nodded but continued eating.

Dean looked between them, practically inhaling breakfast. “Alright” he mumbled around the last bite of food in his mouth. “You ready?”

“Yeah” Ben replied, gulping his juice down.

Dean put his plate in the sink, followed by Ben’s as he grabbed his coffee. “Bye.” He leaned over and kissed Lisa’s head, a habit that he hadn’t dropped even if it didn’t mean what it used to, before walking to the door.

“Bye mom!” Ben called out.

“Have a great day!” she called back before Dean closed the door.

“Fucking start, you piece of shit!” Y/N yelled, as she turned the key to her car in the ignition. All she got back was a grinding sound, and nothing else. It would stutter and die down but pick up again every time she turned the key.

“Damn it!” she slammed her hands on the wheel as she sat back, shaking her head.

This is what she got for driving all the way to Kansas in this piece of crap car, which might as well have been held together by duct tape and dental floss. She got out of the car with her phone, trying to look up a number for a mechanic.

Dean walked over to the Impala and was about to get in when he heard an awful sound coming from across the street. He looked up to see Y/N’s car still in her driveway, which was the source of the noise. He watched as she got out, a frustrated look on her face.

“Hey” he called out.

Y/N looked up, smiling tentatively. That’s not really the mechanic she wanted. Well she did, but she shouldn’t.

“Get in the car” he said to Ben, as he walked across the street to her.

“That doesn’t sound good” he told her as he reached her.

She shook her head, as she frowned. “Yeah, I’m going to be epically late by the time someone shows up.”

“Okay, there’s no freaking way you’re calling someone else, I’ll give you a ride to school and tow this to the shop later” he explained.

“What?” she asked, shocked that he offered without hesitation. “No, Dean, it’s really okay-”

“No, no, you’re not talking me out of this. I’m taking Ben to school; it just makes sense” he gave her a pointed look, letting her know he wasn’t backing down.

“Dean, I really can’t. With Ben… it’ll be really awkward, I’m his teacher” she protested.

“Look, I’ll drop you guys off around back, no one’s gonna see you. Okay?” he insisted.

She was going to be late if she didn’t take the offer.

“Okay” she sighed, defeated but relieved. “Thanks.”

Dean smirked. “No problem, sweetheart. Come on.”

They walked over to the Impala and Y/N admired it as they got closer. She had obviously seen it a few times from across the street, but she was excited to take a ride in it. She loved the look of classic cars because of her dad, and she felt a heaviness in her heart as she thought about him, so far away back home.

“She’s beautiful” she said, as she ran her hand over the smooth finish. The sleek black shone in the sun, showing her that Dean loved his car immensely.

“Yeah, she is” he agreed, grinning.

Ben smiled at her nervously as she got into the car. Y/N just smiled, feeling slightly awkward that she was in a car with one of her students, and his surrogate dad. She just had to avoid conversation about school and hopefully everything would be okay.

They were on the main road to school pretty quickly, the silence in the car too much for Dean to bear. He leaned forward and switched on the music player, his Zeppelin tape coming to life through the speakers. Y/N smiled and bopped her head along to Out on The Tiles. Dean looked at her from the corner of his eye and smirked at her reaction to his music. Lisa didn’t really like listening to his music.

“I’m gonna go back and get your car later” he said, lowering the music slightly. “I’ll take a look at it.”

“I really can’t thank you enough, Dean” she smiled.

“Hey, it’s my job” he shrugged, as he looked out at the road. “Swing by the shop after work and we can sort everything else out.”

“Sounds good” she nodded.

Another silence fell between them, the music the only thing they heard but the lyrics to the song caused an air of awkwardness to fill the car.

All I need from you is all your love All you got to give to me is all your love All I need from you is all your love All you got to give to me is all your love Oh yeah, oh yeah Oh yeah, oh yeah

“So…” Dean trailed off, trying to find something to say. “You uh… you into Zeppelin?”

“Yeah!” she exclaimed. “Grew up on this and pretty much all classic rock, thanks to my dad. I got all his records and his record player when I moved out here. Said he wanted me to take a piece of home with me.”

Dean let out a whistle as he glanced at her. “That’s awesome.”

“Yeah” she sighed, looking out the window. “I started listening to this stuff because of my dad, too” he told her. “Hell, I got a lot from him, the car too.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised. “Your dad gave up a mint condition Impala?”

Dean raised his eyebrows as he looked at her. “You know this is an Impala?”

“Yeah” she shrugged like it was no big deal. “I went to a car show once with dad. I saw one there and knew it was the same once I saw yours.”

Dean, however, thought it was a very big deal. Damn it, just one more thing to like about her he shook his head, getting rid of other things he was thinking of.

“Well… it’s still in the family, so it wasn’t much of a sacrifice” he laughed.

“Still… he must really love you to just give it you” she said, turning to him.

Dean looked at her and saw the small smile on her face. As he thought about it, he knew that she was right. He and his dad had their issues sometimes, but there’s nothing they wouldn’t do for each other. He smiled back at her and then looked at the road. He knew he had to get this conversation back to the safe zone before they arrived at school.

“So, you’re into cars?” he asked, casually.

She laughed, shaking her head. “Only for the look of them. I have no idea about them otherwise.”

Dean shook his head, with a smile on his face. She had a great laugh and he suddenly felt the need to hear it as much as he could.

“Ben’s into cars and this music too. Right, Ben?” he asked the kid sitting in the backseat.

“Yeah” Ben mumbled.

“Lisa not so much though” Dean mentioned, but he realized that he only did that so that it didn’t seem like he had forgotten her about for a second. It scared him how drawn he was to Y/N.

A few moments later, Dean pulled up at the back of the school. They could see the main drop-off area from there, as kids yelled goodbyes to their parents and hurried in.

Dean looked up at the rear-view mirror, seeing Ben gather his things. “See you at 5, kid.”

“Yeah. Bye Dean” he mumbled, as he opened the door and shut it, the hinges squeaking.

Dean watched Ben walk towards the entrance, then turned to Y/N.

“Thanks for the ride, Dean” she said, gathering her bags. She handed her car keys to him, for later.

“No problem” he smirked, as he leaned back, one arm outstretched, his wrist leaning on the steering wheel.

Y/N tried not to sigh noticeably, as she was flustered at the sight of him. Did he know what he was doing to her? He had to know, right?

“I should go” she laughed, trying to hide her nervousness.

“Wait” he said, as he pulled out his phone. “Put your number in and I’ll text you when I’ve picked up your car.”

“Sure” she said, quietly.

She was a little nervous about him having her number. Would Lisa think something of it? It was just two people exchanging numbers, that’s all. Plus, it was about her car anyway. She quickly typed in her digits and name and handed his phone back to him.

Great. I’ll see you later” he smirked, trying not to sound excited at seeing her again.

“Yeah, see you there” she replied, as she quickly got out of the car and walked towards the entrance.

Dean watched Y/N walk away, appreciating the way her hips swayed as she walked. He told himself it was harmless to look. It’s not like he was going to do anything about it. He quickly pulled away from the curb, the engine roaring as he drove to the garage.

Later that day, just after lunch, Dean left the garage with Benny in charge until he got back. He drove back to his street and stopped in front of Y/N’s driveway with the tow truck. He got out of the truck and walked over to her car, popping the hood open. Given the sound he could hear that morning when she attempted to turn the car on, it was clearly the starter and the flywheel that weren’t cooperating with each other. He opened the driver’s side door and put the key in the ignition. When he turned it, he heard the same sound, which confirmed what he thought. The grinding noise also seemed to die down every quickly, which meant the battery was weak, too. Hopefully there was enough in there to get the car into neutral for a tow.

He spent a few minutes trying to get it to start without harming the flywheel, which already looked to have some broken teeth. He got out of the car and walked over to the tow truck, driving it up the driveway. He slid the panels under the back wheels, and then got out to put Y/N’s car in neutral. Once everything was secure, he got into the tow truck and drove back to the garage.

As he drove, his mind wondered to Y/N. The conversation he had with her that morning was so easy, and they had just met last week. It wasn’t that easy with Lisa. Having been with Lisa for 3 years now, shouldn’t they have their easy moments, too? The first year had been great. The second was a little rocky, with its fair share of arguments and apologies. Soon after, as he quickly started to realize the kind of woman Lisa was, he knew the charade was over. She was a great mom to Ben; it was everything else that was a problem. The last year had been filled with distant behavior and more arguing, a lot arguing. To the point of yelling and not being able to hear what the other person wanted. He also doubted whether she told him the truth about something that was bothering him, but he didn’t dwell on that.

If they weren’t fighting, it was mostly quiet as they’d ignore each other or pretend to be the happy couple when people came over. They had tried to fix things, but it had pretty much been useless for about nine months straight now. Maybe things would be different with Y/N…

Dean shook his head. He couldn’t think like that. Just because things were rocky with Lisa didn’t mean he could check out on her and Ben. He still cared about them and didn’t want to do anything to hurt them.

He arrived at the garage and decided to get his mind off things by seeing what to do about the car. Work was always a good distraction from what was going on at home, and it would have to be a distraction from thinking about Y/N.

Y/N sat in the staff room, munching on her salad. It was a slow day, surprisingly, and so she found herself just scrolling through social media and news articles. She was on top of her work for school, so it was nice to take it easy for one lunch. Her phone chimed loudly, showing her she had a message. As she opened it, she smiled down at the screen.

Hey, it’s Dean. Just got back to the garage with your car. Pretty positive I know what’s wrong, but I’ll tell ya when you get here.

She instantly replied back.

Thanks so much for doing this. I really owe you!

His reply came quickly.

You really don’t, sweetheart! That’s what friends do :)

So… we’re friends now? I thought we were just neighbors. She typed back, with a laugh emoji.

You knew I had an Impala. Trust me, we’re friends ;)

She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. She bit her lip trying to keep it at bay, but she just couldn’t.

She and Dean were friends now. Maybe that would help in keeping her crush on him from becoming complicated.

“Thanks for doing this” Y/N said, as she sat in the passenger seat of her friend’s car.

Cas smiled, waving her off. “You’re welcome. I should really see the guys anyway. I haven’t in a while now.”

“I didn’t realize you were friends with Dean” she said, trying to act casual. She was dying inside knowing that they were friends. It was like she couldn’t escape him. Not that she wanted to, even if she should.

“Yeah, since high school” he nodded, as he glanced at her. “We drifted a little when I went to college in California and he stayed here, but we reconnected once I got back. I’m friends with most of the guys who work there.”

“That’s great” she said and looked out the window. Hearing how close he was with his people made her miss her people.

“So, how long have you and Meg been together?” she asked, changing the subject from Dean.

Cas smiled as he thought about his girlfriend. “4 years. I never thought she’d go for me, so I know I’m lucky to have her.”

She smiled sadly, longing to have something that would last more than a year and a half.

“I was telling her about you, and she wants to meet you as soon as possible” Cas laughed.

Y/N joined in and nodded. “I do too.”

Cas pulled up to the garage and Y/N could feel her nerves flutter around like butterflies in her stomach, as she stared up at the sign Winchester’s Auto Repair. Dean had that effect on her, and it was scary to think how quickly she had started to like him. The reception area was closed, so they went in through the side door, after Cas shook the front door and found it locked. She walked into the garage, with Cas behind her, instantly hearing buzzing noises in the corners of the garage. She looked around and tried to spot Dean, but was met with a muscular man, short hair and a beard, wearing a white Henley, smiling at her as he walked over.

“You must be Dean’s neighbor” he said, his Southern accent, mostly likely Louisiana, thick and raspy. His blue eyes shined as bright as his smile. “I’m Benny.”

“Y/N” she smiled in return.

“Hey brother” he said to Cas, nodding at his friend with a smile.

He looked at Y/N, the smile never leaving his face. “I’d shake ya hand, but as ya can see” Benny laughed, showing her his greasy hands. “Dean’s just on a call, he’ll be out soon.”

“Okay, great” she said, but just as she did, she saw Dean coming out of the office.

“Hey!” he beamed, as he walked over. “I see you’ve met Benny.” He patted his Cajun friend on the back as he stopped by him.

“Hey man” he said to Cas, as he hugged him. He smiled at Y/N, and she felt as if her heart skipped a beat.

“Your car’s out back. You wanna come with me and we can talk?” he asked her.

“Sure” she replied. She turned to Benny and smiled. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Good to meet ya, cher” he winked at her, causing her face to heat up.

Dean rolled his eyes as he led the way, walking past his friends. “Ignore him” he told Y/N, causing Benny to snicker when Dean was out of ear shot.

Y/N followed behind Dean, as they walked past all the cars inside the shop. They went out to the back, which was a small outdoor workstation, with a few more cars out there. She spotted hers as they walked over.

“Okay, so…” he started as he popped the hood on her car. “The starter wasn’t catching on the flywheel because it had broken teeth, that’s what the grinding noise was. And the noise was sort of dying as well, so the battery’s weak.”

Y/N looked at him blankly, her eyes wide as she tried to understand what he just said. Dean found it extremely cute.

“All I understood was the battery part” she shrugged; her eyebrows furrowed.

He let out a small chuckle. “It’s okay, I forgot that you don’t understand car speak.”

“Guilty” she confessed.

“Don’t worry about it” he reassured her. “Basically, you’re looking at two new parts, which I’m gonna have to put an order in for and uh… it’s gonna cost ya some.”

She sighed heavily, hanging her head. “Great.”

“Hey, it’s all good. I’m gonna do it for half” he told her, with a smile.

Her head snapped up in shock. “No, Dean, I’m not asking you to do that.”

“You don’t have to; I’m doing it anyway. The only thing is, it’s gonna take a week for the parts to get here, so you have to do something about getting places. There’s a good car rental over on-” he explained but she cut him off.

“That I can deal with it, but Dean… I can’t-” she stopped when he gave her a playful glare.

“It’s not up for discussion, Y/N” he stated as closed the hood. He crossed his arms as he leaned against the car. He looked at her and she just couldn’t take it anymore. Damn him and his glorious face for being such a nice guy.

“Dean” she sighed, shaking her head.

“Y/N” he said, smirking.

A silence fell between them as they looked at each other. He wasn’t going to budge on this, so she had to admit defeat.

“Thank you” she said, smiling.

“No problem” he said, still smirking.

Y/N had noticed he said that every time she thanked him so far. It almost like their thing, now. Shit. They had a thing already.

She smiled and leaned into him, wrapping her arms under his as she hugged him. Dean was a little startled but quickly wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He smiled as the smell of her shampoo filled his nose, just as the scent of his deodorant mixed with a hint of motor oil smell filled hers. They both realized that the hug had lasted longer than they expected it to, and quickly pulled away from each other.

“Alright” she moved a few steps away from him, pushing her hair back, awkwardly. “I better head home.”

Dean scratched the back of his head, trying not to think about that hug. “Yeah, I gotta finish up and pick up Ben” he moved off the car and walked her back out. It was quieter in the garage now, and Y/N could hear Back in Black playing from the little speakers in the corners of the garage.

She looked around the room, trying to decide whether she should ask him what she wanted to, before looking back at him.

“Hey, if you’re not doing anything tonight… you want to come over for an early dinner? It’s a school night, I know but I can at least pay you back in food” she asked.

Dean looked at her but didn’t say anything. Y/N realized how that must’ve sounded and immediately back tracked.

“Oh, I mean you and Lisa. Both of you. Not just you, both of you” she rambled.

Dean laughed and patted her arm. “It’s okay, Y/N. Uh, yeah. I mean, I’ll run it by her, but it shouldn’t be a problem. Is that allowed though?”

She knew what he was asking and nodded. “As long as we don’t talk about Ben or any of my other students, it’s fine. I mean, this is a small town. Who else are we supposed to socialize with?”

“Well, he’s going to be over at a friend’s anyway, working on a project. So, coming over to yours will be better than being at home. It uh… gets quiet when he’s not around” he told her, but quickly realized how much he revealed.

Y/N realized what he meant but didn’t say anything. “So, I’ll see you both tonight.”

“Sure thing” he nodded.

Y/N smiled and walked away. Cas insisted on taking her home, but she told him she’d be fine to walk. It wasn’t that far. Dean watched as she said goodbye to both his friends and took her things out of Cas’s car, walking down the road. She had an effect on him, and it was beginning to scare him. He was in a relationship and had made a commitment. He couldn’t just back out because he wasn’t happy. He had to try harder and make more of an effort, and he had tried when they started going through problems, but that hadn’t been enough for Lisa.

Maybe he had to try again.

“I really don’t like this” Lisa lamented, as she fixed her top in front of the mirror.

Dean rolled his eyes, annoyed at her attitude. Ever since he told her that Y/N had invited them for dinner, she had been voicing how unsure she was of going over there.

“Lis, if you’re having a tough time with this then why’d you say yes in the first place?” he asked, as he shrugged on a fresh plaid shirt.

“Because…” she didn’t really have an answer. “I don’t know, I just agreed because she’s new here and she needs people to talk to, clearly.”

“She’s not desperate, Lisa” Dean turned to glare at her. “You’re talking about her like she doesn’t know how to make friends. Plus, she literally just got here.”

“I didn’t mean it like that” she corrected herself.

“Well, that’s sure as hell what it sounded like” he clipped back. “Not everyone has to be out every damn weekend to prove they have a social life.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, frowning.

“Nothing” he mumbled. “Let’s just go.”

Dean turned and walked out of the bedroom, picking up his jacket along the way. He waited for Lisa to pick up her bag, before he walked out of the house, with her locking the door behind them.

Y/N leaned against the kitchen counter, a glass of wine in front of her. She never drank on a school night, but she really needed at least a glass before her company for the evening arrived. She was nervous to have Dean and Lisa over to her house, mostly because of Dean. She was really crushing on him and she had to hope that she could stop herself from looking over at him in a way that would make it obvious how she felt. At least with Lisa there she could control herself. Fake it till you make it, Y/N she thought to herself as she took a big gulp of wine.

When she got home, she had made chicken alfredo for dinner, something that she knew how to whip up quickly.

Y/N jumped out of her skin and her thoughts, as the doorbell sounded. She smoothed her hands down her jeans and fixed her plaid shirt as walked to the door, opening it. She smiled as she saw Dean, trying not to linger on him as he smiled back at her.

“Hey guys, come on in” she said as she looked at Lisa.

She stood aside and let them in, closing the door.

“Wow, looks a lot different without all the boxes” Dean joked, as he walked into the living room.

“Wait…” Lisa stopped next to him, a look of confusion on her face. “You’ve been over before?”

Y/N sensed that Dean didn’t tell her about that and stepped in. Dean didn’t need to be interrogated for something small. “Oh, he just helped me on the first day here, with some of the furniture.”

Lisa nodded. Luckily, she let it go, but still walked past Dean with a glare.

“So, can I get you guys anything? I’ve got beer, wine, iced tea…” Y/N listed but Lisa shook her head.

“I’m fine, thanks” she said, simply.

“Dean… beer?” she asked, with a small smile.

“Sure, thanks, Y/N” he replied, giving her a reassuring smile.

“Well, dinner’s actually ready so we can sit down. I’ll bring your beer over” she said, walking into the kitchen.

Dean and Lisa sat down at the table, next to each other. Y/N took a beer out of the fridge and brought it over to the table, setting it next to Dean’s plate. She sat down across from him and lifted the lid off the dish on the table.

Dean whistled, a dreamy look in his eyes. “That smells amazing, Y/N.”

“Thanks” she laughed. “Let’s hope it tastes good.”

They all served themselves and dug in, and surprisingly, Lisa was the first complement her.

“This is really great, Y/N” she said, after a mouthful.

“Thanks, Lisa” Y/N smiled.

“This is amazing” Dean hummed, around a mouthful. Lisa glared at him, but Y/N found it endearing. He noticed Lisa looking at him and swallowed quickly.

“So…” Y/N started. “Dean told me how you guys met. I think it’s amazing that you reconnected, and now here you are” she smiled, as she looked at Lisa.

Lisa looked at her, her lips pursed as she took in what Y/N just said. “Yeah, it’s pretty great, but um… you know it’s private so…”

Y/N nodded, staring down at her food. “Of course. Sorry.”

“It’s fine” Lisa played it off with a small smile.

As Lisa ate, Dean looked up at Y/N with an apologetic look. He mouthed ‘sorry’ to her and she smiled, shaking her head to tell him it was okay.

“So, Lisa. What do you do?” she asked, changing the subject.

“I’m an accountant” Lisa told her. “Not the most interesting of jobs, but hey, at least the money’s good.” She added in, with a small laugh.

The conversation remained simple and somewhat bleak. Mostly questions about work and brief questions about family, that didn’t require a lot of explanation. It was a civil evening; however, which Y/N was really grateful for. When they were finished, Y/N picked up the dish and started clearing up.

“Hey, Y/N. where’s your bathroom?” Lisa asked, as she got up from the table.

“It’s just down the hall on the left” Y/N instructed.

“Thanks” Lisa muttered as she left the room.

When she was out of ear shot, Dean stood up and helped Y/N clear the plates. “I’m sorry, Y/N. She just-”

“Dean, it’s really okay. Please, don’t apologize” Y/N reassured him as she walked into the kitchen.

She carried the plates over to the sink and didn’t realize that Dean was right behind her, ready to pass the glasses over. She turned around and smacked into his chest. She laughed as he held her steady, joining in.

“Sorry” she continued to laugh.

“It’s okay” he laughed as well, as his hands rubbed along her arms.

Y/N looked up at Dean and realized he was looking at her. Their eyes met; their bodies close to each other. Dean looked down at her lips, beautiful and inviting. She looked up at his, perfect and pouty, begging to be kissed. It would’ve been easy to lean down and press his lips against hers, but they couldn’t. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t. They heard the bathroom door open down the hall and jumped apart. Dean went back to the table and pushed the chairs in, making it look like nothing had just happened.

Lisa walked back into the room, oblivious to what had happened just moments before. She smiled as Dean stood next to her. She put her arm around him and smiled up at him. Y/N looked away, her heart sinking at the scene in front of her.

“Dinner was really amazing, Y/N. Thank you” Lisa told her. “We should really get going, though. I’m sure Ben’s on his way home, too.”

“Of course,” Y/N walked over to them. “Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for having us” Dean said, trying not to look directly at her.

Y/N walked them over to the door. “Goodnight.”

They both called out ‘goodnight’ as they walked down the steps of the porch. Dean knew he couldn’t look back at Y/N, so he kept walking, resisting the urge to turn around.

Y/N shut the door and leaned her forehead against the wood.

“Fuck” she whispered, as she closed her eyes and shook her head.

That was too close. She can’t believe she almost did that with Dean. That couldn’t happen again.

She began to realize that maybe her little crush on him was developing, and that was a scary thought that she didn’t want to entertain. She couldn’t.

So, she wouldn’t. It would be easy enough. She just had to avoid him.

That was easier said than done.

-x-

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themonotonysyndrome · 4 years

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The Queen’s Lynchpin

We’re getting to part 3 of the ‘Successors of the Future”! This week has gone back to being hectic so I could only write this part here and there for only a few hours. Still, I’m happy that I could finally finish it.

And we have the names of MC’s and Yandere!Malleus children as well as his second wife and the other prince! Any piece of info from @tri3tri Second Wife AU is always fun to read! With that said, I’ll be adding their names into the 2 previous oneshots after this is posted so it’s all align. If you want to know more about this AU, please drop by at @tri3tri blog. Their content and drabbles are amazing!

Lastly, I think it’s alright if I don’t add the link and summary of the previous oneshots of this series in every new piece. The intro is just gonna be super long otherwise. But if you guys think that a link and summary it’s a good, please let me know I’ll be sure to add them in.

“Uh Mama? Have you been hearing... noises in the middle of the night?”

“You mean your sister talking to her mirror in her room in the dead of the night? Then yes, sweetie.”

MC smile, deeply amused, when her son let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, it’s just her talking to Ren.”

“I’ll tell her to keep it down if she’s talking to Renata at night, don’t worry.” MC assured him with a pat on his head.

“Thanks, Mama. Say, do you have any plans for today?” Lucien’s sudden question was a little odd to MC. The three of them have been staying in the house - only going out for a grocery run - lately, and she didn’t have any plans to change it.

“Not really. I was thinking to catch up with some leftover work from the office before Monday comes. Why? Do you want to go anywhere?” MC inquire curiously.

Lucien is quick to shake his head. “Oh, no, no. Umm... Mama, you often look so sad lately. We know that having Ren away at Twisted Wonderland has been hard on you, so I just thought maybe we could all do something to help make you feel better.” He explains with a bit of hesitance, wringing his hands. It’s clear to MC that this is one sensitive topic that he didn’t want to unintentionally hurt her with.

MC couldn’t help but smile at how thoughtful her little one is. Really, all of her children can be rowdy in their own way but at the end of the day, she always noticed that they tried so hard not to make her worry. But as the parent, it’s her honour to protect her children - not the other way around. Which is why seeing the hesitant expression on Lucien’s face tugs her heart.

“Oh, Luci. I didn’t mean to worry you and your sisters. It’s just that...” MC paused for a moment to think on how to properly express her feelings. “None of you has ever been separated from me. The issue with your father is one thing, but I can’t help but fret about your oldest sister. Is she eating well over there? Sleeping early on a school day? Oh, but then again, she does have a habit of waking up around 2 in the morning looking for a snack if she sleeps too early.” MC bit her lower lip, she should have told Renata during their last talk to keep some snacks in her room in case she gets hungry.

Ever since Renata had first contacted Sherrie and taught her the communication runes and she in return, taught her and Lucien on how to draw them on any mirror in the house, they all have been talking to Renata through the large, hanging mirror in the living room every day.

“We can ask her if she’s been waking up in the middle of night after our dinner, Mama.” Lucien assured their mother. He took her empty tea cup and pour some tea from the still hot pot and push the porcelain cup back to her. They were having tea and a light meal in the kitchen after he had woken up from his nap.

Sherrie passed on their invitation since she’s too busy livestreaming her latest game in her room. From below, they could hear her muffled voice.

MC took a sip and hums thoughtfully. “You’re right, Honey. I’ll be sure to do that. Anyway, you mentioned a family activity - what do you have in mind?” Perhaps a distraction is just what she needed to get her mind off Malleus and the inevitable danger he’ll bring.

Lucien’s eyes brighten in delight. Happy that he could do something to cheer her up.

“I found this recipe recently and I was hoping that we can all cook together? It’ll be fun I promise!” He pleaded. Among all her children, Lucien is the only one with the knack for cooking. Sherrie can make simple meals whenever she wants.

Renata, however, needs to be supervised even if she wants to boil a pot of water.

“Sure! I’d love to. So what’s this recipe you want to cook?”

Much later when it’s almost dinner time and Sherrie wrapped up her livestream, MC and Lucien are already in the kitchen preparing to cook. Curiously, she glances at the list of ingredients and steps for dinner that was left on the kitchen counter and her eyes bugged out at what they were going to make.

“I feel like there are things that mankind should never attempt lest the price be their sanity. And this? This is it!” Sherrie shrieked, flapping the flimsy paper incredulously at them. MC is preparing the dough while Lucien makes sure they got all the ingredients out and ready.

“What? Boba pizza sounds delicious!” Lucien rebuke with a small frown. “And beside, you won’t know if you like them if you haven’t try.”

Sherrie just slap her forehead at his words, as if she couldn’t believe this. “I know you’re pretty crazy for boba teas but this is ridiculous! Pizza dessert for dinner? Can’t we have something normal, Mama?” She pleaded their mother.

MC toss her a playful smile as she rolls the dough. “Well honey, it does sound pretty exciting when you said it. Pizza dessert!” When Sherrie’s face scrunched up in disgust, she tries to coax her daughter, “Aww, c’mon, honey. Look, you can order a delivery for yourself but come have fun with us! I’ll even let you toss the dough if you want.”

Sherrie folded after that. Honestly, making pizza - of any kind - is always messy process, but her children are having fun with smudges of powder on their faces and MC felt her heart lighten just hearing them laugh. Dinner might be unconventional tonight, but it was worth it to see Lucien enjoy eating his pizza and Sherrie reluctant admittance that it tasted alright, if a bit weird.

Once the kitchen is all cleaned up and their stomachs full, they settled in the living room. MC and Lucien watched as Sherrie used her old, red lipstick to draw the runes on the mirror. The surface rippled once, sinking the runes and reveal Renata in her pyjamas beaming at them.

“Good evening everyone! How are ya’ll doing?”

“Hi sweetie. We just had dinner.” MC said, glad that her eldest daughter still looks healthy and happy.

“You wouldn’t believe what we had for dinner.” Sherrie interjects dryly. The 3 of them are sitting on the couch with MC in the middle. “It’s so weird!”

“But you liked it!” Lucien countered with a smug grin before turning to his oldest sister. “We had boba pizza! It was amazing!”

“Boba pizza!? Nooo! I can’t believe you all ate them without me! I’ve been wanting to try them!” Renata whines. “I wish we can pass stuffs through the mirror. Wait - I might be able to do something about that actually.” She goes on to mutter about needing to bully the headmaster again.

The family traded what they did during the day, Renata assuring them that yes, she had a storage full of snacks in her room and that her favourite lesson so far is Flying class. Once that’s out of the way, MC asked her daughter, “How are your assignments? Is Leona-senpai’s son helping you out?”

When Renata told them that her History’s assignment partner is none other than Leona’s son, MC was a bit worried if he carries his father prejudice against Malleus towards her daughter, but Renata assured her that other than his funny attempts at posturing and warning growls, Bakari Kingscholar has been nothing but civil and helping out with researching and editing their papers.

“Yup! We’re nearly done with our homework and I think we’re friends now? He’s a bit of tsundere which makes teasing him so much fun!” Renata giggled. “You know, just today we decided to have lunch together after our assignment and when I went back to my room and check my bag, there was a candy bar inside. He must’ve slip it in when I told him that I snacked often.”

Sherrie immediately drop her phone. She was mindlessly browsing through her Twitter account while they talked, but her attention perk like a hound dog. “Whoa, whoa wait - he bought you food when you told him that you eat often? Me thinks he might like you, dude.”

MC’s eyes widen and Lucien gape. Could that be true!?

But Renata just rolled her eyes. “Oh please, I think he was thanking me for not making him do all the work. You know those tough guy acts? Yeah, it’s nothing special.”

Sherrie tilt her head, clearly not believing it, but keep it to herself for now.

“Being the only girl in a school for boys must be tough.” Lucien mused sympathetically. “I’m glad that you have a friend with you, Ren.”

“Well, Diasomnia students has mostly been friendly yet distant with me so far. Probably because of this,” Renata twirl her fingers beside her horns to emphasise her point. “But it’s cool. So far, no one tries to bully me or anything. And by the way, I’ve been staying out of trouble, Cherry. I haven’t even landed myself in detention so far.” She proudly announced.

“Yet.” Sherrie snickers.

Lucien frowns at her. “Ren has been working hard, Cherry. She’s been sticking to your plans, right? I seriously don’t think she will mess it up.”

“Nah, it’s all cool Luci. I’ve mostly been blowing off steam during Magishift. It’s super fun! I wish you guys could play too.” Renata said and then proceed to explain to her siblings what Magishift is all about.

That’s another thing that MC had picked up as Lucien grew up. Despite how close her daughters are, they do bickers as sisters tend to and Lucien usually act as the mediator and peacemaker between them when things get too heated.

MC couldn’t help wonder if her sweet boy would ever be like this if he was raised in Malleus’ castle.

The family talked a little more until it was getting late. After bidding each other goodnight and MC telling her daughter to keep herself safe, she ushered Lucien and Sherrie to their bed and tucked herself in.

That night, she dreamt of a past memory. However in her dream, all 3 of her children are laughing and free as they grow in her world.

Now that Lucien thinks about it - he doesn’t really know what Sherrie plan is exactly. He’s aware that they’re doing their best to help Renata avoid being discover by their father as long as they can and Mama told her to make friends with the children of her old friends since they helped her out a lot during her school life in Night Raven College but other than that? He doesn’t know what they would do once father found out about their oldest sister.

That particular though came back in his mind when he woke up from his sleep because he heard Sherrie giggling in her room. With blearily eyes, he checked the time on his phone and groan.

It’s 3.15 in the morning.

He push himself out of his warm bed with great difficulties and slowly padded towards Sherrie’s bedroom.

He knocked twice and groan, “Sherrie? It’s seriously late. Why aren’t you sleeping yet?”

“Shit, Luci-chan? Sorry, did I woke you up? You can come in if you want. The door is not locked.”

With a tired grumbled, he swings open the door and zombie-walk to her sister who is sitting in front of her vanity table, talking to Renata.

“Hey Luci! Sorry that we woke you up!” Renata apologised quickly, guilty that they’ve disturbed their little brother. “I was just reporting to Cherry that I found several hidden and unmarked paths that connects to father’s castle and to the outside world of the Valley of Thorns. I thought it might come in handy so I wanted to share it with her.”

That sounds interesting to Lucien. He’s a little more awake now. “Did you use your spells to scout the area?”

“I sure did! Haven’t been caught by anyone or any bat so far.”

“What... what does father’s castle look like?” Lucien couldn’t help but asked. It’s hard to believe that he and his family are actually royalty. That his Mama and sisters used to live in a castle.

It’s still hard to accept that he’s actually a prince.

“Gloomy.” Was Renata immediate reply. All her previous good humour vanishes and her hard glare surprises him. “We hardly get any sunshine because father controls the weather with his temper tantrums.”

“Not to mention that we had to live with basically strangers.” Sherrie added. “I never really feel comfortable around the castle’s staffs. Sure we got the family wing all to ourselves but we still had to deal with them.” Both Lucien and Renata understand her unspoken words: having to deal with judgemental strangers is difficult.

“What are you going to do once father founds out you’re in Twisted Wonderland, Ren? Are you going to go hiding?” Lucien asked.

It’s Sherrie who answered him, “No. We’re going to make sure that he can’t forcefully take Mama or any of us back to the castle. I just need a little more info and we can act once the 3 of us are in Twisted Wonderland.” She explains.

“We suspect that once Cherry hits sixteen, the Ebony Carriage will also pick her up and by that time I’ll be in my second year as a student here. If that’s the case, we just need you here and then it’s the second phase.” Renata took over explaining here. “Rumours spread fast in Night Raven College, but it’s not going to reach to father. He’s in an isolated country. Well, not until he’s here.”

Lucien blink, now lost. “He? Who’s he?”

“We have a halfbrother - Victor. He’s the same age as you, Luci-chan. Looks like father didn’t waste any time getting his second wife pregnant.” Sherrie said with a smile that honestly send cold shivers up his spine. It’s sweet with a poison laced underneath. Lucien seen this smile only once. A girl from school tried to blackmailed and bullied her into doing her biddings.

He heard that the girl was transferred to another school in a different state soon after when news broke out that she was selling drugs with her boyfriend to the students.

Lucien would like to believe that the incident had nothing to with his sister, but he’s seen what she does for Renata whenever she lost her homework or to the English Literature teacher that had an issue with her.

So Lucien needed to asks this. “Are you... are you going to hurt him?” His voice is soft and careful.

Through the mirror, Renata eyed Sherrie in which his second sister leans into her chair and relaxes. “I won’t, don’t worry. After all, he’s not at fault.”

Words are Sherrie’s favourite playthings and at that moment, Lucien hopes she means it.

Funny enough, I’ve been calling S/N (Lucien) as Luciel because it means light and I HC that MC sees him as the unexpected light that Malleus gave her. Her daughters are a treasure but Lucien serve as MC’s light. It’s fate!

So far for Lucien, my main reference for him are two people actually. Dead Master from Black Rock Shooter and Nisha Labyrinth from Elsword!

Will expand more on them as I continue to write. Also, I’m shit when it comes to timeline and ages so here’s my rough idea so far:

Renata = 16 years old (first-year student)

Sherrie = 15 years old

Lucien = 13 yeard old

I’ll change the kids’ age if Tri reveal them on their blog.

#twisted wonderland #fanfic #twst mc #malleus draconia x mc #twst kids #Malleus and MC kids #yandere malleus draconia #Draconia Family series #Second Wive AU

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geekgirles · 3 years

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Your Heart

Chapter 8 -- Aftershocks

Word Count: 13482

READ ON AO3

Margaret’s quarters had to be one of the most glamourous in the entire manor. Designed to be a duplex, it consisted of two different spacesーthree, if you count the bathroomーthe lower floor held the living room, and the higher one was where the Council member’s actual bedroom was.

The living room resembled that of a wealthy family’s. A deep red velvet hue gave a touch of colour to the walls, which were decorated by several portraits revealing pieces of contemporary art. Now, Sam loved going to museums and culture in general, but she couldn’t identify what the artists had tried to portray to save her life. When asking about the meaning of one of the paintings, Margaret once told her it was an allegory to the passage of time. How could a smear of red, a blue smudge, and a black, straight line mean any of that she had no idea.

Questionable taste in decor aside, Margaret’s quarters also consisted of a parquet flooring that always seemed to have been recently varnished, so shiny and clean one could eat from it. Just from a small glimpse at her room, one could guess the older witch had a weakness for rococo furniture; a set of golden couches and chairs with cream upholstery was scattered around the place. A backless seat was in front of the piano at the far corner of the room, a loveseat could be seen located under a particularly large painting, Sam and Margaret were both seated, one in front of the other, on two chairs…

Ironically for someone as elegant and graceful as Margaret, all her plants were made of plastic. Grandma Ida had once told her in confidence the clan’s best spellcaster was also the worst gardener she’d ever seen. According to her grandma, when Margaret was still just a witch in training her teachers ended up forbidding her from getting near to their supplies of mandrake; she always killed them all and the plant was very difficult to find.

At the far corner of the room, to the side of the piano, a white staircase with a golden banister led to the Council member’s room. What secrets her bedroom held, however, Sam didn’t know. Margaret was very particular about who she let in on her personal life, and bedrooms were extremely personal.

Which was enough of a hint to understand she hadn’t been called just to chat and have some tea with her. “Your Majesty,” Margaret broke her out of her musings and from inspecting her personal chambers, “I understand you already know why I have summoned you here, correct?”

Even when she was about to scold her, the older witch always looked like the epitome of grace and dignity. They were currently seated on two of her rococo chairs, which Sam had to admit, were pretty but not necessarily comfortable; a coffee table with a porcelain tea set alongside different types of biscuits, scones (a favourite of Margaret since she spent some time abroad in London in her youth), and sandwiches were in full display in between the two.

Knowing how seriously Margaret took table manners, Sam put her teacup on its respective plate before delicately placing both down on the coffee table. “I have an inkling as to why that might be.”

The African-American woman’s perfect posture never faltered. “In that case, I will get straight to the point: sending Miss Baker and Miss Zhou back home while you were left alone with the Ghost King was unbelievably unwise.”

Sam couldn’t help but wince when Margaret’s forest green eyes laid on her, an icy quality to them. “I understand your concern, Margaret, believe me, I do, but…”

“‘But?’” Margaret cut her off, raising an eyebrow as her cup of tea was halfway to her mouth. “Your Majesty, in case you forgot, you are our queen. Amity Park clan’s leader. Dozens of women depend on you for guidance. Your sole presence keeps us from going to war over the throne!”

Unable to hear the same things over and over, the young queen turned her head to the side, as if pained by her words. “I know, I know.” She raised a hand to silence her. “Margaret, you needn’t remind me the very reason why I even stepped up to become queen. Keeping the clan from succumbing to chaos and honouring my grandmother are my main motivations for everything I do.”

“You and me both know that, my Queen.” Margaret conceded, stirring her second cup of tea. “But that does not change the fact that what you did was foolish. However, I also know that you never do anything without reason, so I am willing to hear it.”

With a gesture of her hand, she motioned for Sam to explain herself. Sighing, the violet-eyed girl did just that. “I know my life is precious, but the circumstances were dire and even now I can’t shake the feeling that it’s a miracle I’m even alive.”

“Forgive me, your Majesty. But I fail to see how that is helping your case.” The green-eyed woman pointed out. Deep down she knew Sam probably had a good reason for doing what she did, but as second-in-command, it was her duty to ensure their queen never made a mistake like that ever again.

“I’m getting there, I promise.” Sam hastily said.

With a nod, Margaret gestured for her to continue. “I don’t feel comfortable putting my safety before others’ just because of my position.” She finished, and even Margaret’s stoic mask cracked a little at the revelation. “Stephanie and Susan were with me, Margaret. They were in as much danger as I was, I couldn’t risk their lives like that.”

“Miss Zhou and Miss Baker both volunteered to escort you to your visits to the Ghost Zone, your Majesty.” Her fellow Council member reminded her in between sips. “Had anything happened to them, they were just doing their job.”

“And I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing their loyalty would force them to pay such a high price.”

Margaret was about to take another sip of her tea when Sam’s solemn words made her eyes widen. Looking over at her, she noticed her tense posture, her stiff shoulders, her slim fingers clutching tightly at the fabric of her black and purple plaid skirt...And the resolution in her eyes. The older witch could’ve sworn she saw the same fire that was so characteristic of her grandmother in Sam’s violet gaze.

Unaware of the reaction she’d caused to the woman in front of her, Sam went on. “I’m the queen, Margaret. It’s my duty to make sure our people are safe. How do you expect me to just leave them behind, not knowing if they’ll even make it alive!? Even if the black hole had been taken care of without my assistance and they would’ve been safe from it, how do we know the ghosts wouldn’t have taken advantage of the chaos to attack them?!

“Even if I have a feeling King Phantom would’ve tried to protect them, it was still too risky. I would never have been able to live with myself if anything had happened to them because, somehow, my life’s more important than theirs!”

Setting her now cold teacup down, the African-American witch clasped her hands together on her lap. She regarded the young queen with a face that betrayed no emotion. “Your Majesty, you do realise every single one of your points can also be applied to your own situation, right? Just like Miss Baker and Miss Zhou could have been in danger at the hands of the ghosts, so could have you. Except an attempt against your life would be grounds for going to war.”

Knowing she was right, Sam averted her gaze to the side. Suddenly that one painting with the impossible-to-understand analogy on the passage of time seemed much more interesting than ten minutes ago.

Margaret sighed as she stood up. Her high heels clicking against the parquet, she hovered over Sam, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Samantha, I know choosing what is best for our people is hard, especially if it comes into conflict with our personal beliefs and desires, but duty must come first.”

The young sorceress started at the sound of her full name. She really hated being called ‘Samantha’, but knew that was the most personal Margaret would ever get with her, so it'd only be rude of her to complain. “I know,” she sighed dejectedly. “I know, it’s just...I can’t just do that to them! Susan is still just a teenager; no matter how good of a potion-maker and warrior she is, she’s still too young. She has so much to live, I can’t afford to make her miss out on all that for my sake…”

“But what about Miss Baker? I believe you two are the same age; you both still have so much to live, as well.”

“You mean Stephanie still has so much to live for. I gave up on that a long time ago…” Sam couldn’t resist the urge to scoff.

Even if all witches had to make compromises to balance their lives inside and outside of the coven, Sam’s entire life had revolved around giving up on one passion after the other. Growing up she couldn’t make friends because other girls weren’t allowed to go near the queen’s granddaughter. Her world was reduced to the manor and her house, to her family and her teachers, to her lessons and the very scarce moments where she could pretend she was a kid like any other. After her grandma died, under the threat of her coven falling into anarchy until they found a new leader, she sacrificed her one chance at a relatively normal life in exchange of being elected the future queen. For four years her extensive studying and isolation were self-imposed; the only times she allowed herself to take a break where her birthday ーso her dad wouldn’t get suspicious as to what was so important she couldn’t celebrate her own birthdayーand the anniversary of her grandma’s death; because there was no way she’d ever have the energy to work on the most painful day of the year. And now that she was queen, every waking moment was dedicated to looking after her people.

Stephanie was just a shy girl who loved books. Between the two of them, she was the only one who really had a chance at experiencing life outside of the manor’s walls. And Sam refused to be the reason why she lost that chance.

Understanding dawning on her, Margaret’s face softened. “Your motives were noble, my Queen, and I am sure the Baker and Zhou families are extremely grateful for having their children returned to them. Just try to keep in mind that with great power comes great responsibility, and more often than not, that means making sacrifices for the greater good.”

As the spellcaster went back to her chair, Sam could only stare after her like she’d just nonchalantly revealed the meaning of life to her. “...did you just quote Spider-Man?”

Picking her teacup back up, she just chuckled in amusement. “I am a woman of culture, your Majesty. Now, pour yourself another cup of tea or help yourself to some snacks, before it gets cold.”

Reaching over for the kettle to pour some more tea on her cup at the same time as she started munching on a vegetarian sandwich, a comfortable silence settled between them. The only sounds disturbing the quiet atmosphere were the occasional sound of sipping and of plates clattering. In the midst of the silence, Sam’s mind couldn’t help but race back to the moment right after Phantom stopped the blackhole.

She wasn’t lying when she told Margaret she believed he wouldn’t have let anything happen to Susan and Stephanie, for her own protection seemed to be one of his top priorities. That and their last interaction before she returned to Earth had been replaying inside her head over the last several hours.

As she and Phantom stared at each other, unbeknownst to them, both thinking that they could indeed make things work as long as they worked together, Sam’s mind unexpectedly wandered to uncharted territory. Now that she was looking at him up close, a part of her had to agree with all the fangirls who’d squeal every time Phantom appeared on TV; he was quite handsome.

It was undeniable that the Ghost King’s defined physique was anything but hard on the eyes. She didn’t know what it was, but something about himーmaybe the inches he had on her, or maybe the way he’d pressed her close to his chest earlier when he was trying to put her to safety, or maybe the intensity of his neon green eyesーmade her feel safe.

Now that they weren’t separated by a large table and a few feets of distance, Sam could appreciate his chiseled jaw and how his Adam’s apple moved up and down when he gulped, sending a heatwave straight to her very core. His intoxicating eyes no longer looked at her with suspicion and disdain, but with gratefulness and with a candour whose origins she couldn’t quite identify, and at that very moment she was sure nothing would’ve been able to get her to tear her own violet gaze away from them. His shock-white hair alongside his characteristically ghostly glowーthat glow she used to interpret as a warning sign; a reminder of his true natureーall of a sudden made him look ethereal, otherworldly. Like a guardian from beyond sent to protect everyone from evil. Like...Like…

Like an angel.

And his lips...Oh, God. They were so inviting. The mere thought of kissing those lips was incredibly exhilarating. From where she stood, Sam could already imagine his lips on hers, coming together in a slow, passionate dance; their touch so rough and yet so gentle; both breathing her to life and leaving her breathless; and the way he was moving them at that very moment only helped in further cementing her beliefsーwait a minute. They were moving?

“Lady Arcana, are you okay?” Phantom asked, even though he looked a little out of sorts himself. “Your face is a little red. Should we have someone check it out?”

“No!” Sam exclaimed a little too quickly and a little too loudly, shaking her hands before her and already feeling the scorching heat on her cheeks. She barely resisted the urge to facepalm herself. What was she thinking?! Drooling over Phantom? Fantasising with kissing him?! Did she lose her mind?! Maybe he wasn’t as bad as she originally believedーshe was still debating on itーbut he was still a ghost. And ghosts and witches didn’t mix, especially like that. Hell, not even when they were still allies did a ghost and a witch ever end up together!

Noticing the Ghost King staring at her quizzically, the witch cleared her throat in an attempt to appear nonchalant. “I mean, no; I’m fine, really. Probably just a little affected from all the excitement.” Averting her gaze, she jerked her thumb behind her. “I, uh, I should probably go back to my people. They’re probably recruiting an army to come and save me as we speak.” She laughed it off weakly.

Phantom’s eyes shot open at that. “Oh, right! Yeah, it’ll probably be for the best. Wouldn’t want to start a war over a misunderstanding…” He rubbed the back of his neck as he, too, looked away. “I...I’ll let you be.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for saving me.” Sam told him, missing the way his eyes softened at her words. She put a little distance between the two, ready to cast the spell that would send her home, when Phantom’s voice stopped her in her tracks. Turning around, she raised an eyebrow at him, “What?”

“Are there going to be any more meetings after this?” He asked. “I mean, after this whole fiasco, I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to call it quits…”

In spite of herself, the young witch couldn’t help but give him a small smile. “We still need to solve the portal problem, don’t we?” Then, she smirked. “You won’t get rid of me that easily, Phantom!”

The relieved expression he sent her way sent her heart aflutter. Feeling the blush coming back, she hastily turned around once more, ready to leave. “Well, until next time!” Again, she was getting ready to leave when Phantom’s voice stopped her.

“Wait, Lady Arcana!”

“Yes?”

“I...u-uh,...well…” He stuttered before taking a deep breath. “Thank you for saving me, too.”

Against her better judgement, Sam’s expression softened. “You’re welcome, Phantom.” Finally, she focused on her anima, willing a purple light to engulf her as she chanted, “Omnes viae Romam ducunt.”

She could almost feel how every individual cell in her body separated before being rearranged again. The tingling sensation was similar to when she’d phased through Phantom’s lair, except it was warm rather than chilly. Spellcasting felt like being cocooned in a thousand blankets inside your home during a particularly cold winter night, while the sensation brought by ghost powers was akin to sticking your head into the freezer when it was 104 º outside.

Both experiences were incredibly pleasant, albeit drastically different from one another.

When Sam opened her eyes, everything was mayhem.

She’d arrived in the middle of the Grand Hall inside 917 Maplestreet, and every single witch present was looking straight at her. Judging from their positionsーsome had risen from their seats, their hands slamming the tables; others had their arms raised as if making suggestions or waiting for their turns to speak up; a few were arguing amongst themselves…ー, she’d just interrupted a council meeting. Most likely to discuss her current situation.

Oh, great.

“Your Majesty!” A voice cried out, and Sam almost fell back upon impact, for someone had slammed into her chest with great force, almost knocking the wind out of her.

Looking down, she realised the iron grip she suddenly found herself in belonged to none other than Susan. The poor thing was sobbing and hiccuping uncontrollably against her chest. Automatically, Sam put her own arms around her in an attempt to sooth her. With how fierce and disciplined she usually was, it was easy to forget she was, technically, still a kid. She had much to learn before she became completely desensitised to the world’s horrors.

“It’s fine, Susan.” The queen soothed, caressing her hair. “I’m fine.”

Right at that moment, the room erupted in a row of applause and cheering, alongside many questions directed her way. Before Sam could so much as tell them to speak one at a time, she felt something being discreetly slipped under her dress. Turning her head to the side in surprise, she found herself face to face with Stephanie. “Welcome home, your Majesty. I am so glad you have returned.”

When the strawberry blonde winked at her, Sam understood everything. Steph had taken advantage of the current chaos, and of her tied up skirt, to return Arcana’s Grimoire to her. Sam couldn’t help but smile; she was worth much more than people often gave her credit for.

Paulina and Star almost tripped over themselves trying to reach her. Rushing to her side, both simultaneously looking panicked and relieved beyond belief, the moment they reached her side they started fussing about her personal care, promising to prepare a warm bubble bath immediately.

“Your Majesty!” Paulina exclaimed in between pants, “You have no idea how glad we are that you’re back!”

“Totally,” Star agreed beside her friend, nodding but equally winded. “One minute Pauli was trash-talking Ms. Gorilla, and the next news reached us that you hadn’t returned from the Ghost Zone!”

“I’m sorry,” a sultry voice from behind startled them, while Sam shook her head in pity, anticipating what was to come, “you were doing what?” Delilah asked the two ladies-in-waiting sharply, her unforgiving eyes narrowed on them.

The Witch Queen could only roll her eyes knowingly at the way Paulina and Star flinched upon noticing the shapeshifter heard them. ‘Ms. Gorilla’, as Star helpfully supplied when they were assigned to her upon becoming the clan leader, was a moniker Paulina had come up with at the height of her jealousy towards the stunning Council member. Sam, despite her love for animals and nature, hadn’t noticed until they pointed it out, but Delilah shared her name with the famous Purple Back Gorilla that was discovered to be female by a high school student working on extra credit back when she was fourteen.

The thing is, as good-natured and laid-back as Delilah could be, she did not appreciate being compared to such a majestic creature. “I’m waiting, Miss Anderson. What did you say you were doing before you heard the news?”

From where she stood, still being held by Susan’s iron grip, Sam could see how Star was beginning to sweat. The blonde usually didn’t have trouble saying what she thought of others, even if it was mean-spirited or uncalled for, but even she knew it was foolish to anger another witch, especially when her position was much higher than hers.

Squirming under the shapeshifter’s harsh glare, the handmaiden couldn’t do anything but stutter. “Uh...um...w-well...we...we were…and the...the gorilla...b-but then...” She trailed off, luckily for her, Paulina chose that very moment to jump in on the conversation.

“We were just talking about the new gorilla-inspired fashion collection!” The Latina lied and, if you listened closely, you could hear the way her already pronounced accent thickened. Paulina was a good liar, but even she sometimes had trouble working under pressure. “It’s absolutely fabulous! Almost as much as your blouse,” she complimented as she reached out to touch the fabric, “Is it new?”

Unamused, Delilah decided against pushing the issue...for now. Gently swatting the Latina’s hand away from her clothes, she directed a much kinder expression towards Sam. “It’s good to have you back, my Queen. We were worried sick for your safety.”

The violet-eyed queen smiled in return. “It’s good to be back.”

Suddenly, an imposing voice made itself heard from the other side of the room. Heads snapping to the origin of the sound, everyone’s eyes landed on Margaret standing with her hands behind her back by the entrance. She looked as poised and collected as usual.

Somehow, Sam knew she was in for a world of trouble.

“Your Majesty,” Margaret began, and her voice commanded such respect a pin drop could be heard in the middle of the previously loud room, “you have no idea how grateful we are for your safe return. If what Miss Zhou and Miss Baker told us is true,” both witches at her side sent their queen an apologetic look, “then you must be exhausted. Please, after you’re well-rested, come tomorrow to my personal chambers.” She ordered, because she didn’t even ask for an answer, before turning away. Just as she was about to leave the room, she called out over her shoulder, “We have much to discuss.”

Oh, yeah. She was indubitably, thoroughly screwed.

Her instincts were proven correct the moment she was given the third degree by the woman in front of her. As she pondered Margaret’s previous words, however, a question materialised itself inside Sam’s mind.

Furrowing her brow, she called out to her fellow Council member. “Margaret?”

“Yes, your Majesty?”

“You said we more often than not have to make sacrifices in the name of the greater good, even if it goes against our personal beliefs and desires…” she started carefully, looking down at her cup. “Have you ever had to sacrifice something you cared deeply about or wanted desperately for the sake of the coven?”

For a moment, the silence had returned, only it now hung heavily over them, when just a few minutes it’d been comfortable. After a few minutes had passed and she still received no answer, Sam was about to ask again when Margaret finally answered. “Yes, I have.”

Her head shooting at her uncharacteristically lifeless voice, Sam almost gasped. Before her, Margaret wore the saddest expression she’d ever seen of her face. Her deep, green eyes, usually so vibrant and full of colour, were now bleak and devastated, reminiscent of a forest after a wildfire. The otherwise calm and collected Council member now looked heartbroken and desolate, like a piece of her was missing. Margaret certainly wasn’t crying, but she seemed so miserable Sam could feel tears of her own stinging her eyes.

“I...I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.”

“Uh...right! O-of course. Don’t worry.” The lavender-eyed witch hastily said, too shell shocked to be more eloquent. Margaret never used contractions when talking to her.

Margaret acknowledged her with a respectful nod of her head. “Thank you, your Majesty.” Then she went back to drinking her tea.

Deciding it’d be best to imitate her and pretend nothing had happened, Sam couldn't help but wonder what might’ve happened to Margaret to make her so miserable. But above all else, she could only hope she’d never have to sacrifice the same thing. Somehow, she had a feeling death would be less painful.

...........

The forest in the outskirts of Amity Park could be described as anything but a walk in the park. The tree trunks knotted and twisted, forming shapes made out of the stuff of nightmares. The wind rustling the leaves sounded like a ghostly wail, not unlike Danny’s, albeit much quieter. That only made it more sinister. And the sound of twigs, dead leaves, and fallen tree branches crunching beneath had him frantically looking around for the slightest sign of danger. Since it was mid-October, nearing Halloween, the weather was beginning to change as well. For instance, temperatures were starting to drop from the cool yet warm ones that reigned during late September, and the first fall rainstorm hit the town just the night before.

And since it’d just rained the night before, that meant Tucker was now stepping on mud. He was stepping on mud with his new boots on. He was stepping on mud and getting his new boots that cost him a fortune, mind you, dirty. Already irritated and spooked beyond belief, he called out to the person walking in front of him, “Care to remind me why the fuck I didn’t turn you down on your invitation to, and I quote, ‘a fun fieldtrip?’”

Stopping momentarily to look over her shoulder, Jazz scolded him, “Language.” With that out of the way, she turned her head back around and kept on walking through the forest. “And to answer your question, you agreed to come with me because you want to help Danny as much as I do.”

Tucker rolled his eyes, taking advantage of her back, turned to him, and followed her close behind. “Yeah, that I know. What I mean to say is, how is hiking aimlessly around the woods going to do anything to help Danny?!”

They’d been trekking around that damned forest for three hours, with absolutely nothing to guide them but an old, probably outdated, map some ranger had given to Jazz back at the information booth. Three hours wandering around a forest that was creepier than Mr. Lancer’s ‘sculptured summer physique’ back in summer camp, and the most resting they’d done was when Jazz would suddenly halt to check the map or crouch down to get some samples.

Just like she was doing at that very moment. “Look at this, Tucker. Ocimum basilicum!” She reached her hand out to show it to him before putting it inside a little glass jar. She brought the jar close to her face. “Did you know in Christianity this plant is said to have sprouted when Jesus’ blood fell to the ground?”

“No, I didn’t know that.” The technopath said, unimpressed. “What I do know is that Ocimum basilicum and basil are the exact same thing! Care to tell me why you’re so transfixed on a mere spice? As much as I love myself a good pizza, even I have to admit this is just ridiculous.”

Sliding her backpack across her shoulder, the redhead put away the basil. With that taken care of, she sent her friend a bored look, standing up from the floor and coming to stand beside him. “It’s important because it’sー.”

“‘It’s going to help Danny.’” Tucker finished for her, doing a poor impression of her voice. “You said that over a million times already! Can you at least tell me how it’s going to help Danny?”

Jazz looked away, sulking. “Because...because it just is, okay?! Trust me, Tucker, I know what I’m doing.”

But the African American young man wasn’t buying it. That answer was far too childish, especially coming from someone like Jazz, who’d been acting like someone twice her age for almost as long as he could remember. Something was definitely off.

“But what could it be?” He asked himself as they resumed their march. She said she knew what she was doing, and that was all great and dandy, except he had no idea what they were doing! He was the technician of the team, his specialty were computers, viruses, and thwarting technology-dependent ghosts’ plans! He was not made to hike, looking for God knows what, in the middle of a forest!

And Jazz?! He barely held back a scoff. No matter how much more physically adept than him she was, the eldest Fenton was no field agent, either. For years, her way of assisting Danny in ghost-hunting had been through research, bringing back-up,helping work out the tricky details in their plans, now she was obsessed with finding out more about the witches…

Wait a minute.

Tucker stopped dead in his tracks, fists curled at his sides and a very angry glare directed at the back of the head of his best friend’s older sister appeared on his face. “You dragged me here to help you research witches and avoid Danny’s wrath.”

It wasn’t a question and she knew it. Wincing at the, accurate, accusation, the redhead turned around slowly. “I...I have no idea what you’re talking about…” She tried playing dumb.

In an instant, Tucker got in her face, wagging a chastising finger at her. “Oh, don’t you dare play innocent, little missy! You might have been able to fool your parents all these years, but that’s only because they’re surprisingly gullible. You can’t fool me; we’re here to research witches aren’t we?”

Looking down on the floor, Jazz ultimately gave in, sighing. “Yes, we are.”

“And I’m guessing Danny knows nothing about this which is why; first, you went out of your way to organise this on my free day, which, for the record, also happens to be the day Danny’s schedule is packed; second, you wouldn’t tell me why we’re here; and third, you’re just picking random things up, because not even you know what you’re looking for.”

She bit her lip, knowing she’d been caught. She always forgot how observant Tucker could be. “Maybe?”

“Jazz!”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?!” She snapped. “I know I shouldn’t have lied to you or Danny, but I just can’t sit idly by and watch as he enters the lion’s den, completely unprepared!” She stepped closer to Tucker, looking him dead in the eye. “You know Danny, Tucker. He shoulders everything and refuses to let us help. Please, you have to understand; I have to help my little brother.”

Looking down at her pleading eyes, the techno geek’s own teal orbs softened. He did understand. He really wished Danny would let them help more often. It was just painful watching him come back looking like death, knowing he’d been sticking his neck out for a town that didn’t always appreciate him, and not being able to do much because even then he was protecting them.

It was maddening, really.

Sighing, he grabbed Jazz by her shoulders, trying to show her just how much he understood her plight. “Listen, I know how you feel. You know I know how you feel. But we gotta make sure us going behind Danny’s back will really be for his own good. We can’t just wander aimlessly with no real plan in mind! Never mind how good our intentions are.” Seeing as she only stared at him, unblinkingly, he sighed and let her go. “Face it, Jazz. We’re about as lost as Danny when it comes to witches.”

He was sure what he said would be discouraging, hence why he didn’t understand the way her eyes lit up. “That’s where you’re wrong!” She exclaimed just as she started rummaging through her backpack. After a few seconds, she pulled a book out. “This is a book on plants, arthropods, and other ingredients traditionally used by witches in folklore. If we find a place where many of said ingredients grow or inhabit, we might know where to find them!”

“Right…” he drawled, he should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy to keep Jazz from her goal. “Because there’s no way a group of women from the 21st century have learned to grow or breed those things from the comfort of their homes.” He deadpanned in response. “Is that why we’re here? To look for a bunch of plants and insects?”

Her right hand still clutching the book close to her chest, the other hand fisted on her hip, Jazz sent him an irritated look. “As a matter of fact, I was thinking the witches’ lair could actually be around here.”

Tucker’s brows shot up at that. “What makes you think that?”

“Because it’s tradition!” She exclaimed, before pulling her phone out of her pocket and shoving it in his face. “Did you know Baba Yaga was said to inhabit the Russian forests?”

Glaring at her, he carefully got her phone out of his face. “Yeah...She was also said to be an old hag, with a blue nose, and a bone leg. Pretty sure the Witch Queen Danny meets up with is supposed to be quite the looker. So, try something else.”

Jazz pouted, before trying to come up with a theory that would please him. “Well, what if there are Russian witches in Amity Park? Maybe they stayed true to tradition, taking advantage of the locals’ ignorance to remain inconspicuous.”

“Nice theory,” he clapped sarcastically, “only one tiny, itsy, bitsy detail, though. I doubt the Cold War made it easy for Russian witches to move to the USA. Instead of putting them up to trial for being witches, they’d have been accused of being spies.”

She was beginning to get frustrated with Tucker’s lack of cooperation. Groaning, she snapped. “What do you suggest we do, then?!”

“How about get back to civilisation and forget all about this silly quest, huh?!” He snapped back, dramatically flailing his arms in the air in exasperation. Seriously, were all Fentons supposed to be stubborn to the point of idiocy? Didn’t they understand some things weren’t worth falling-outs and even their lives? He loved that family to death, but if he was going to die for them, he at least would like it to be because of something useful.

Jazz just kept staring back at him, frowning in annoyance, before turning away from him in a huff. Tucker was about to call her out on her behaviour when she beat him to it. “I know I’m being difficult. I know I’m looking for things that aren’t there, but I just need to help Danny!” She whirled back around to look him in the eye, desperation clearly laced in her voice. “Please, Tucker. You have to understand.”

“Uh, no. Not that! Anything but that!” He cried, frantically covering his eyes with his hands. She was pleading, giving him the trademark Fenton, sad, puppy-dog look. The damned thing was so effective he was genuinely surprised it didn’t count as a persuasion technique. Peeking through his fingers, he chanced to look, only to close his eyes shut not long after. Nope, she was still doing that look.

With a dismayed moan, he gave in after a while. “Fiiiiiine!” He groaned, only to subsequently send a glare at Jazz’s direction when he saw her fist-bumping from the corner of his eye. He quickly squared his posture, jabbing his finger against her chest. “But if Danny busts us, you’re explaining things to him!”

He so hated the way she was beaming at him, completely ignoring his threat. “No problem!” She then slapped his hand away, causing him to let out a sound of complaint. The grin had been replaced by an irritated frown. “If you ever touch my chest again, though, I’m going to blast you with the Fenton Ghost Peeler until your skin falls off and only your non-existent muscles remain.”

“Hey!” He began to protest against her comment, only to back-pedal when she sent him a withering glare in warning. “No touching your chest ever again. Got it.” He smiled sheepishly at her. When that seemed to please her, she turned her focus on her book, prompting Tucker to ask. “So, what now?”

“Now we look for evidence that proves the witches of Amity Park visit this place.” She replied, not looking up from her book.

“No, I got that. I mean how are we going to do that?”

“Well, if witches really do need certain ingredients for their spells and potions, then I’d suggest we look for things that could possibly grow around here.” Jazz kept reading the paragraphs detailed in her book, turning pages at the speed of lightning. Stopping at a certain page, she tapped her chin with one finger as she pondered their options before showing the book to Tucker. “Do you think we could find some newts around here? They’re said to have been highly demanded as an ingredient for their eyes.”

Taking a look at the slimy creature pictured in the book, the techno geek recoiled in disgust. He couldn’t hold back a shudder before regaining his composure. “First of all,” he lifted his index finger in the air, “the closest lake in the area is Lake Eerie, a good three hours away from here. So I highly doubt we’ll be finding any newts any time soon.” He fiddled with his PDA before showing it to her, a map appearing on the screen. “And second, even if there were any lakes around here, there’s no way I’m gonna touch an amphibian. I’m a techno geek, not a biology geek. If you want help collecting those little guys, you’re going to have to ask Sam for help.”

That perked the redhead’s interest. “You mean the Manson heiress?” She asked, not missing a beat. Even if the topic of conversation had changed greatly, her focus was still on her book. If newts weren’t an option, something else had to be. She just had to find it. “Is it me, or is there something going on between her and Danny?”

Not one to resist some good gossip, especially when it was related to Danny’s love life, Tucker leaned in closer to Jazz, as if he were about to share a conspiratorial theory with her. “Oh, something is definitely going on. I haven’t seen Danny act so comfortably yet bashful around a girl since Valerie. As for Sam, let’s just say I don’t usually see her with other guys. Period. As a matter of fact…” Eyes snapping open, he trailed off. What Jazz had said about Sam finally catching up to him.

The psychology understudy looked over at him in concern. Unlike her friend, she wasn’t one to gossip, but her little brother’s mental health and social life was something she cared deeply about. Moreso because the two aspects tended to go hand in hand. “Uh, Tucker? Is everything okay?”

“What did you just say?” He practically mumbled in a voice so low Jazz had to strain her ears to hear him.

“Um,” she stammered, “I said, ‘is everything okay?’”

“No, no.” The African American man shook his head and hands, indicating that wasn’t what he meant. “Before that.”

“I literally said ‘uh, Tucker.’” She repeated, looking at him like he’d grown a second head or something. Did a branch fall on his head while they were hiking and she hadn’t noticed?

Oh, for the love of God...This was getting ridiculous! Did he have to spell it out for her? Scrubbing his face with one hand, growing frustrated, he tried one last time. “No, Jazz.” He gritted out as gently as possible. “I’m asking what you called Sam earlier.”

“You mean when I said ‘the Manson heiress?’” She raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Yes, that!” He exclaimed, before returning Jazz’s confused expression with one of his own. “What do you mean by that?”

“You really don’t know?” She asked in disbelief. Considering that, no, he really had no idea what she was even talking about, the technophile could only shake his head and wait for answers. “Oh! Wow...So turns out Danny isn’t the only person in Amity Park who doesn’t know!” She meant to mutter that part to herself, but her disbelief was so great she forgot to lower her voice, causing Tucker to hear her just fine.

He didn’t know why, but the moment the Fenton girl’s aqua eyes landed on him, Tucker couldn’t help but feel he was being regarded with pity. The fact that she nervously rubbed her arm holding the book up and down while avoiding his gaze didn’t help matters any. “Um, you see...You know Sam’s name, right?”

That made him furrow his brow, not quite following. “Obviously,” he scoffed. “Her name’s Sam Manson. But how come her ID makes her an heiress?!”

“Because she’s not just a Manson,” Jazz corrected him gently, “she’s the only child of the Mansons.”

“Are you saying she’s related to that psycho serial killer?” He squeaked, rightfully freaked out. Deep down, however, he knew that couldn’t be right. Sure, Sam had a spooky taste in...everything, really. But she would never hurtーno, wait a minute. She could definitely inflict pain on others through elaborate and well-thought schemes. But she just couldn’t be related to a serial killer!

...or could she?

“What?!” The redhead gasped. “No, of course not! I’m saying she’s related to the Manson family,” when he was about to comment further, she stopped him with a raised hand, “as in, the descendants of Izzy Manson,” she stressed, annoyed; “the creator of the cellophane-wrapping machine used for chopsticks.”

Growing frustrated at Tucker’s blank face, she made an indecipherable sound at the back of her throat before snapping. “Darn it, Tucker! Rich, I’m saying she’s filthy, stinking rich!” She rolled her eyes when the techno geek’s jaw almost touched the floor. “Gosh! I swear, you’re even more hopeless than Danny!”

“Wait a minute, Sam is rich?!” He all but screeched. “How come she never told me?!”

Feeling sorry for him, she could only shrug in response, her previous aggravation gone. Honestly, she’d only met the girl once, and not even a prodigy like her would’ve been able to determine her thought process with just one session. “I don’t know. If I’m being honest, I’m a bit more surprised you never figured it out.”

That gave him pause. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...” she crossed her arms. How could she put this gently? “I mean, you’ve known her for a while, haven’t you?” Slowly, he nodded. “And you’re way more into the wealthy and powerful than Danny, and, come on, Sam’s an ultra-recyclo-vegetarian Goth.” She sent him a pointed look. “Goth clothing and vegetarian food aren’t cheap, you know.”

Tucker could only grimace, knowing she had a point. “I know who the Mansons are, but I’ve never seen Sam in any of the pictures taken of her family’s sophisticated parties. And, really, would you seriously take a look at her parents and go, ‘Yep, no doubt. These preppy, cheerful folks are definitely related to cynical, brooding Sam Manson.’” He defended himself, and judging by Jazz’s expression, he knew she concurred. Then, he added, almost as an afterthought, “And honestly, I legit thought she basically ate grass and mud, so…”

Sympathising with him, Jazz put a soothing hand on his shoulder, smiling kindly at him. At first he returned the gesture, before furrowing his brow in concentration. Something wasn’t right... “Wait, how do you know any of this? How do you even know Sam?”

“Ah, Danny and I ran into her and her dad last Saturday at that new Vegetarian Mexican restaurant.”

The bespectacled young man couldn’t do much but blink in astonishment. Then, suddenly, he let himself fall to his knees, crouching down before crossing his arms over his chest, pouting. “How can I possibly be that out of the loop?!”

Jazz flashed him a meek smile in response as she lowered herself to his level; literally. The tug in his lips turned into a full blown smirk as a devious thought came to him. “Was there UST between the two?”

The older girl let out a loud cackle at his question. “Oh, you have no idea!”

With a ‘hm’, he settled for a content smile that Jazz knew was only half-hearted. “That’s enough for me...for now.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Jazz, trying to joke, but the way she was looking at him made it clear she didn’t buy his attempts to lighten up the mood.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself, huh?” She offered softly. “You speak so fondly of her, and she seemed to know you well enough when we talked about you the other day. I’m sure she’ll come clean to you if you let her know you feel hurt over not knowing who she is.”

Normally he hated when Jazz psychoanalysed the situation, more so if it involved him. But now he couldn’t help but feel grateful for having the eldest Fenton’s advice and support. “Yeah, I...I think I’ll do that.” He smiled at her. “Thanks.”

She smiled back, “You’re welcome.” The quiet atmosphere soon dissipated when she got back up on her feet as she dusted herself off. “Well, we’d better find something that’ll hint us on the witches’ hideout!”

Getting up from the ground as well, Tucker watched as Jazz pulled out the map from her backpack at the same time as she leafed through her book using just her thumb, that girl’s ability to multitask was both impressive and unnerving. She was clearly searching for a clue to get them started on their quest. Rolling his eyes fondly at her, he started fidgeting with his PDA, looking for clues of his own through the best way he knew; technology.

Printed books and maps were fine and all, but it didn’t take long for them to become outdated. With the Internet and his trusty PDA, Tucker always had the latest information in the palm of his hand. Literally. As his eyes scanned over dozens of articles from the day before to several decades prior, his eyes landed on one story in particular.

Gasping, he called out to Jazz. The girl looked up from her own research to see Tucker motioning for her to come closer with his hand. Curious, she did just that. The moment she was within touching distance, he handed the PDA to her. “Look!”

She squinted her eyes on the screen. What appeared was an old newspaper article, around thirty years old. When she read it over, however, her eyes widened. “Is this what I think it is?” She whispered in disbelief, as she turned to Tucker, who was smirking.

“You’d better believe it!” Snatching the device from her hands, he began scrolling down and zooming in on certain fragments of the article. “It’s a news segment dedicated to two rangers’ retelling!” He exclaimed, his eyes not once looking away from the screen. “According to them, a few days before the interview with the newspaper, they were patrolling around the woods when they came upon what appeared to be a garden entirely made up of mandrake! Which took them aback because, first, that was a restricted area to the public; and second, mandrake usually grows in Mediterranean weather!

“Since it was getting late, they decided to investigate the following day first thing in the morning. But when they tried getting to the garden, they found they couldn’t. Somehow, whenever they thought they were getting closer, they kept getting lost and further away, something that was odd because they’d both been working as rangers, walking through the woods, for more than twenty years!” He finished, looking far more excited at the prospect of their research than he’d been before. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Her hands clasped in front of her beaming face, Jazz could only nod eagerly. “Mandrake is one of the plants that are most popularly associated with witches and magic, and the rangers kept getting lost because they’d found a patch of mandrake and the witches wanted to keep them away in order to protect their secret!”

“And you said Internet searches were only going to lead us to Satanist sites.” He flashed her a shit-eating grin, feeling proud of himself.

“Ugh, knock it off!” She playfully shoved him away, before growing serious again. Her joy being replaced by uncertainty. “Just a question, though?”

“What?”

“How are we going to find this mandrake patch? It’s been over thirty years! And if the witches were able to make two seasoned rangers wander aimlessly through the forest, what chances do we have of finding it ourselves?”

Tucker opened his mouth, only to close it again, realising he didn’t have an answer to her question. Yep, that could definitely be a problem. “Well, the rangers didn’t know they were facing off against a group of spellcasting women; we do.” He tried steering the conversation in the right direction. “What do we know about witches?” She was about to speak when he cut her off, “ Aside from the obvious.”

Bringing a fist to her chin, Jazz began to revise everything she’d learned on them ever since Danny shared his latest plan with them. “Hm, Danny said witches used to be able to summon ghosts from the Ghost Zone and make them cross over to Earth. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Hm, it might.” Tucker replied, the gears already turning in his head. “You know how every ghost has its own ecto-signature?”

“Yeah?”

“What if the witches have something like that?” He suggested, his mind already focused on the possibilities.

Jazz gasped, her eyes widening at the possibility. “Then maybe we could create our own version of the ghost radar, except that instead of ghosts, it’d latched onto a witch’s own signature!” She added, practically bouncing up and down.

“That way, we could lead the radar to someplace with a particularly strong magical signature, and therefore guide us to the mandrake patch without getting lost!” Tucker continued, equally excited.

“Which would then allow us to track any witch that comes to the garden.” Jazz said.

“And eventually lead us to their hideout!” Tucker finished. The two of them high-fived the other, reeling from the revelation. They were so hyped they almost forgot to address the most important part of the plan.

“So,” Tucker started, slipping his PDA back in his pocket. “What about Danny? Do we tell him about this?”

Against her better judgement, Jazz shook her head. “No. I believe it’d be best if we don’t.”

“Are you sure?” Tucker raised an eyebrow. “Arguably, this affects him much more than it does us.”

“I know, but we need to give him an edge over the witches. An ace up his sleeve! Something to use as leverage if the queen ultimately turns against him.” She explained. “Telling him of our plan before we even have a clue would only make things more difficult for him.” Noticing Tucker’s unsure expression, she rushed to reassure him. “I promise, the moment we know where they gather, we’ll tell him. Okay?”

Tucker didn’t look convinced. Excluding Danny in something this important just felt wrong! But, on second thought, Jazz was his older sister; she’d been taking care of and protecting him long before she learned about the accident. Jazz was always looking out for her baby brother’s best interests. Sighing, he gave in. “Okay.”

“Thank you, Tucker.” She grinned in appreciation before she looked down at her phone and noticed the time. “Now, come on! We still have to get back before Danny finishes his classes and notices we’re nowhere to be found. We don’t want him to get suspicious, do we?”

As he followed her back through the way they’d come from, Tucker could only hope their decision wouldn't bite them in the ass.

..........

“Remind me again why we’re here?”

“Because we needed to meet up and the You Mocha Me Crazy was closed today.” Tucker smirked smugly at her from the seat across from her; a mixture of grease and sauce dripping from his fingertips. “My, what a tragedy!” He lamented in mock sadness.

Her body leaned forward and her elbow propped up on the wobbly table, Sam sent him a nasty look. “Knock it off! You like the café and you know it.”

The techno geek shrugged, unconcerned. “I’ll admit, they make good sandwiches. But nothing can beat my love for the Nasty Burger. It was about time I dragged you here for a change.”

Danny was sure the Goth girl was about to deliver a very colourful string of words their friend’s way hadn’t he intervened. “Remember, Sam,” he warned, putting a hand on her shoulder, making her look at him instead, “this is a kid-friendly space.” He took her huffing and crossing her arms over her chest as she slumped on her seat as a victory. “Look on the bright side,” he pointed at the trail of food in front of her, “at least they serve vegetarian menus.”

“It was a pleasant surprise.” She admitted, looking down at the tofu-soy melt she’d been served. “I honestly thought their only options would be a bunch of so-called salads with more meat than lettuce.” Picking the sandwich up, her face wrinkled in disgust when she brought it to her face. Averting her eyes, she promptly set it back down, before sliding the trail away from her. “That being said, that thing’s soggier than a quarterback’s socks after a football game.”

“Then it should be just like you like it!” The techno geek quipped, causing Sam to fling some of his own fries at him in retaliation. Tucker could’ve tried shielding his face from the assault, but that would've meant dropping his burger, leaving him no choice but to become an easy target. “You’re gonna pay for those fries.” He deadpanned, his scowl only deepened when the Goth girl blew him a raspberry in response.

“I believe it’d be more accurate to say football players’ socks are stiff after a game, giving the poor hygiene of the guys at our high school,” Danny pointed out matter-of-factly, trying to keep the peace between the two, before noticing the possible innuendo thanks to the help of Tucker and Sam’s meaningful looks. “But I get what you mean.” He finished lamely.

Changing her position so she was looking directly at him, her face leaning on the hand resting on the table, Sam raised an amused eyebrow in his direction. “No offence, Danny, but teenage boys aren’t exactly known for their impeccable hygiene.” With a noncommittal shrug she leaned back against her seat. “There isn’t much of a difference between you guys and pigs; you’re both more voracious than a pack of hyenas and your body odor is arguably stronger than a pig-pen’s stench.” She pinched her nose with her fingers for emphasis, the smirk never leaving her face.

Both guys seated with her shot her matching glares. “I resent that.” They said in unison, making her laugh.

“FYI, Sam,” Tucker said between bites of his Mega Meaty Nasty Burger, “Danny and I had to learn the wonders of personal hygiene much sooner than any other guy at our school.” Setting the remainder of his burger down on its trail, his arm resting close to it, he leaned closer to Sam, as if he were about to share a secret. “For all the cruel things the girls said about us behind our backsー”

“Or to our faces.” Danny reminded him with a pained mumble.

“Or to our faces.” Tucker agreed. “Despite everything, they never, not even once, complained about the way we smelled.” He leaned back against his seat with a triumphant grin, the burger already in his hands. “That’s way more than the jocks ever got.”

“Now that you mention it, Tuck,” the blue-eyed boy started, “I think the closest we ever got to a compliment from the A-list girls was when Paulina, grossed out by Dash trying to flirt with her all sweaty after P.E., screeched, ‘Get away from me! Not even those losers of Foley and Fenton smell nearly as bad as you!’” He mimicked in a very whiny, high-pitched voice.

While Danny’s imitation got him and Tucker in stitches, it got Sam thinking. Did he say Paulina? She didn’t want to just assume the Paulina she knew was the only one in town, but she couldn’t help but think of her. “Uh, guys?” She waited until they gave her their full attention. “Um, sorry if this is weird, but I just realised I never got around to asking you; which high school did you go to?”

“Casper High.” They replied at the same time. “Why?”

Okay...so they were talking about the Paulina she knew. The Latina wasn’t kidding when she said she used to be the queen bee at Casper High when she and Star studied there, if Danny and Tucker’s retelling, as the lowest end of the food chain, was anything to go by. “Um...no reason, really. I was just curious, that’s all.” Not feeling up to compromising her, for once, plausible answer, she quickly tried changing the subject. “If what you’re telling me is true, though, how come you were such prodigies in the art of not smelling like garbage that’s spent way too much time under the sun?”

“Ghosts.” Tucker replied simply. Panicking, Danny discreetly kicked him in the shins, the only reason his best friend didn’t yelp in pain was the warning glare the raven-haired boy was sending him. He was about to ask him what he wanted when Sam supplied the answer.

“Ghosts?” She echoed, tilting her head to the side.

Flinching at the realisation of what he’d just said, he immediately tried to cover his slip-up. “Y-yeah! Ghosts!” He vaguely registered Danny rubbing his temple with two fingers from the corner of his eye. “You...you remember Danny’s a Fenton, right?”

“Yeah?” She raised a quizzical eyebrow, while Danny’s head shot up at that, wondering what his best friend was up to.

“You see,” Tucker said with the same tone of voice a teacher would use when enlightening his students on his subject, “since Danny’s folks are ghost hunters, ever since the spooks started haunting Amity Park, Mr. and Mrs. F. have been a little...say, trigger-happy. So every time they thought a ghost was near, we’d accidentally end up covered in whatever goop they were developing. Hence, why we were always taking showers.”

Catching onto what he’s best friend was up to, Danny was quick to add. “In fact, my sister used to have long, flowing hair, but ended up cutting it to a pixie cut after one too many accidents.”

“That’s...weird as fuck.” Sam said, and for a moment the two men feared she’d seen through them. Until she bobbed one shoulder up and down as she readied herself for round two against her tofu-soy melt. “But I guess it makes sense.”

“It does?” Danny asked, before Tucker’s foot painfully stomping on top of his brought him back to his senses. “I-I mean! Of course it makes sense...well, it shouldn’t, but that’s my family for you!” He made a helpless gesture as he shot her a sheepish grin her way.

Their antics made her frown in suspicion, “Are you guys okay? You’re acting weird, and that’s saying something.”

“We’re perfectly fine!” Tucker rushed in to say, at the same time as Danny tried with, “Just tired!” They shared furtive glances at each other when the dissonance registered in their brains. Then they tried again, only for Tucker to squeak, “Just tired!” at the same time as Danny assured, “We’re perfectly fine!”

A little creeped out by what was taking place right in front of her, the girl munched on her sandwich painfully slowly. “Uh huh…” She drawled, not buying it. She swallowed her food before addressing them again, her hazel-eyes strained on the two nervous-looking boys. “So, which one is it? Are you perfectly fine, or are you tired?”

Gulping loudly, Danny chose to speak for the two of them, seeing as their usual ‘bronnection’ was failing them. “Come on, Sam. We obviously mean we’re a little tired, with all our assignments and whatnot, but overall, we’re perfectly fine!” The halfa tried alleviating the tension with a motion of his hand. “That’s just your usual college student life. What’re you gonna do? Right, Tuck?” He elbowed his bespectacled friend, urging for support.

The African American young man started, “Oh! Um...sure” He stammered at first. “Totally. Nothing going on but your typical college life problems.” He let out an awkward laugh.

Sam just kept staring at them just as intently as before, her intertwined hands resting on the table. With her eyes narrowed on them like a gangster deciding whether to kill or torture a snitch that’d ratted them out to the cops. The pair of best friends could barely contain the urge to squirm under her scrutiny. Finally she shook her head and, for a moment, they were sure she’d made her choice; they were dead. “We definitely can’t come back here. The food’s so bad it’s rotting your brains!” She shook her head in mock concern. “And it’s not like you had many to begin with…”

“Wait a minute!” Tucker protested while Danny let out a relieved sigh, “You leave the Nasty Burger out of this!”

“I just say it as I see it.” Sam countered in a sing-song voice. It was so easy to get a rise out of him, she just couldn’t resist.

As his two friends started bickering, Danny limited himself to watching them, amused and content to have them in his life. A part of him still couldn’t believe how easily Sam had filled the space he didn’t even know was empty. His whole life he thought Tucker’s companionship was all he neededーexcept for his early high school days when he dreamed of being part of the A-listers, but he’d since wisened up. With ghost-hunting overcomplicating his life, he’d long given up on expanding his social circle outside of his sister and best friend, and serious girlfriends were an all-time no-no, but in just a few meetings, the Goth changed that.

Her individualism and strong moral compass were the perfect addition to his dry sense of humour and awkwardness, and Tucker’s optimism and desire to do something big. It was like they balanced each other out. Sam’s own sense of justice aligned itself nicely with Danny’s own need to do the right thing and protect others, while she shared the need to stand outーalbeit in different waysーwith Tucker, as opposed to his efforts of blending in. Even their differences were a great addition to their friendship, for they forced them to open their eyes to new possibilities they might have overlooked.

Danny wished Clockwork would just stop time right at that very moment. There, in the middle of the crowded and not always sanitary Nasty Burger, surrounded by teens complaining about the struggles of high school and underpaid workers, everything was perfect. Being there with Tucker and Sam, watching them bicker and mediating when things threatened to get out of hand, felt like things were as they should have always been.

They weren’t even there to talk about witches! Somewhere along the way hanging out with Sam just became normal; the right thing to do. And to think not that long ago he didn’t even know she existed…

Watching her bring a hand to the shaved half her face, as if she were about to push away some hair blocking her view only to stop in mid-air and sheepishly put her hand back down on the table when she remembered there was nothing to push awayーmaybe she still wasn’t used to missing half of her raven locksーwarmed his heart. For a moment, she redirected her focus on him, probably sensing his eyes on her, and she flushed prettily, causing heat to creep up on Danny’s own cheeks as a result.

They immediately averted their eyes and focused on something else; Sam looked back at Tuckerーwho was trying very hard to keep his impish grin off his faceーand Danny found himself looking at the ceiling. He’d never noticed there were pieces of gum up there...

For someone who’d sworn off romance after sophomore year of high school, he was doing a very poor job at steering clear of it. Just like the route his treacherous mind had taken the other day as he locked eyes with Lady Arcana…

The halfa could feel his heart squeezing in his chest just by looking into those heliotrope orbs of hers. From the moment he first laid eyes on her, he knew not even his glowing gaze could compare to them in uniqueness. Regrettably, the usual frostiness he found in them hindered their beauty. But now that she was staring at him with great esteem and, dare he hope, a hint of admiration, it was as if spring had finally arrived and had defrosted her gaze; revealing the field of lilacs hidden underneath.

The content smile tugging at her lips illuminated her entire visage, accentuating that tantalising beauty he chose to overlook due to the rocky nature of their relationship. In all his years coming back and forth between the Ghost Zone and Amity Park, he was sure he’d never met anyone who represented the beauty of both worlds quite like she did; and he was a halfa!

Her amethyst eyes and her paranormal nature made her stand out even in a dimension populated by powerful entities, each possessor of a unique gift. The way the eery light coming from the ectoplasmic swirls around them reflected on her slick, black hair gave her an appropriately otherworldly glowーso beautiful it eclipsed anything he’d ever seen before. It was almost like she belonged in the Ghost Zone.

But her personality wasn’t like any he’d ever encountered before, let alone in a spirit. He hadn’t realised it until now, or rather, he hadn't allowed himself to see it, but there was no denying the glimpses of something incredibly humane within her. As unusual a sight it might be, her love for her carnivorous plant wasn’t any different from that of a little girl playing with her puppy. The care she felt for it was evident in the curve of her smile whenever she glanced down at her little, potted friend. Her love and loyalty for her people were admirable as well. He’d been lying if he said he hadn’t been taken aback by her insistence of staying behind in order to protect her two subjects. As vain as it sounded, he’d only seen that kind of dedication and sacrifice in himselfーright when he took off to take on Pariah Dark. She’d even saved him, a ghost! Her alleged worst enemy! And all because she saw him in need and couldn’t sit idly by and do nothing.

He could see it now. Lady Arcana represented the best of both worlds. It was like she belonged with him…

Eyes widening in shock, he quickly tried to shake off the strange feelings taking residence in his core. Maybe he’d been too quick to judge Lady Arcana, but she was still a witch! It’d be incredibly foolish of him to ignore centuries of beef between their people just for a pretty face. Besides, even if ghosts and witches weren’t enemies, he still could never date her. It’d be too dangerous.

He had to snap out of those delusions, pronto. “Lady Arcana.” He called out to her. A few seconds passed and she said nothing, causing him to worry. Now that he looked closely at her, she seemed a little flushed; what if something was wrong with her?

“Lady Arcana, are you okay?” Phantom asked, even though, unbeknownst to him, he looked a little out of sorts himself. “Your face is a little red. Should we have someone check it out?”

“No!” She exclaimed a little too quickly and a little too loudly, which only made him worry more for her sake. She was frantically shaking her hands before her and her cheeks only took on a deeper shade of red.

Looking at him like she’d been caught doing something bad, the witch cleared her throat, although it looked a little forced. “I mean, no; I’m fine, really. Probably just a little affected from all the excitement.” Averting her gaze, she jerked her thumb behind her. “I, uh, I should probably go back to my people. They’re probably recruiting an army to come and save me as we speak.” She laughed it off weakly.

The halfa’s eyes shot open at that. Duh! What was he thinking!? Of course not seeing their queen return from the Ghost Zone would cause an uproar among her clan! “Oh, right! Yeah, it’ll probably be for the best. Wouldn’t want to start a war over a misunderstanding…” He rubbed the back of his neck as he, too, looked away. “I...I’ll let you be.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for saving me.” Lady Arcana said softly, and Danny could feel his heart swelling at her words. Unbidden, his expression fell a little when she put a little distance between the two. She was about to cast the spell that would send her home when his voice acted before his brain had time to catch up to it. “Wait!”

Turning around, she raised an eyebrow at him, “What?”

“Are there going to be any more meetings after this?” He asked. “I mean, after this whole fiasco, I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to call it quits…”

In spite of himself, he couldn’t keep the seed of hope from being planted when she gave him a small smile. “We still need to solve the portal problem, don’t we?” Then, she smirked. “You won’t get rid of me that easily, Phantom!”

Danny was pretty sure he’d just smiled appreciatively at her, which was why he didn’t understand when she hastily turned around once more, ready to leave. “Well, until next time!”

“Wait, Lady Arcana!” He called out to her once more, hating how desperate he sounded.

“Yes?”

“I...u-uh,...well…” He stuttered before taking a deep breath. “Thank you for saving me, too.”

The way her expression softened was enough to bring forth emotions he long believed dead and buried. “You’re welcome, Phantom.” Finally, she focused on her anima, willing a purple light to engulf her as she chanted, “Omnes viae Romam ducunt.”

And with that, she was gone.

The snow-white haired ghost kept staring off into the distance even after she was long gone, his mind still trying to process the day’s events. But there was something that, hard as he might, he just couldn’t make sense of. She’d been able to grab him while he was intangible, but how? At first he thought it was a specific spell or something, but that theory was soon proven mistaken when not even Lady Arcana seemed to know how she’d been able to touch him.

Only one thing was for sure; he needed answers. And he had a pretty good idea where he’d be able to get them.

Danny’s musings were abruptly interrupted by the sight of his best friend pointing a fry accusingly at Sam, “When were you going to tell me you’re rich?”

A heavy silence suddenly filled their booth. It was like someone had forced a horrible screech out of a vinyl disc by scratching on its surface. Looking over at Sam, the halfa was sure she was about to drop her food, too stunned to even move. The way her eyes had popped open would’ve been comical, hadn’t it been for the tense atmosphere.

Shaking her head lightly, the Goth girl finally regained her senses, her shocked face morphing itself into a scowl. “Say it a little louder, Tucker.” She grumbled. “I don’t think they’ve heard you all the way to Siberia.”

Now it was Tucker’s turn to scowl. “Uh, no. You don’t get to be mad at me for saying it aloud.” He slumped back on his seat, turning his head away from her. “Not when you never even told me yourself; I had to find out through Jazz.”

“Jazz?” Danny repeated, confused. “When did you talk about this with Jazz?”

“Uh...we were texting each other and it came up.” He shrugged his concerns off. “But that’s not important right now. What matters,” he said hotly as he shot the brunette a pointed look, “is that we’ve been friends for over a year and you never told me! How come Danny and Jazz get to know you’re part of the Mansons but I don’t?!”

The youngest Fenton was about to try and explain things to the techno geek when Sam beat him to it, “Tucker, it’s not like I planned this! I was just having dinner with my dad when Danny and his sister appeared at the restaurant.” She explained, exasperated. “And honestly? The only reason Danny knows is because Jazz already did. It’s not like I saw them come in and waved at them like, ‘Hey, guys! I’m here with my Hella wealthy father! You wanna come with to our yacht in the Mediterranean?’” She droned in an overly cheery, sugary-sweet voice, her lashes fluttering excessively.

“You have a yacht in the Mediterranean?” Both boys asked, incredulous.

Her scowl deepened. “That’s irrelevant.”

“Yeah, well..,” His shoulders slouched, Tucker could only sulk, hurt. “Could’ve still told me. I thought we were friends, Sam.”

His words were like a knife piercing through her heart. They were friends, weren’t they? Despite their differences and some of his most obnoxious flaws, Tucker was still the first person to ever approach her without ulterior motives in mind. Even after they’d made it clear they could never work as a couple, he stayed with her. Annoying he may be, he was still the first friend she’d ever made on her own, and she loved him for it. He was right; he didn’t deserve to be hurt due to her secretive nature.

With a sigh, she scrubbed her face with one hand, feeling remorseful. “Tuck, I’m...I’m really sorry.” She confessed, earning the techno geek’s full attention. “You’re right, even if the secret was mine to tell, I should’ve let you know sooner.” She sighed once more, unable to meet his eyes. Sam hated allowing herself to be vulnerable in front of others; growing up, she’d learned to depend on no one but herself, therefore, showing her helpless, weaker, side to others was incredibly hard to do. “Listen, you’re the first friend I’ve made in a very long time. I was afraid of losing you.”

Although his posture was still guarded, Tucker couldn’t deny her words piqued his interest. “What do you mean, Sam? How is me knowing who you are going to lead to you losing me?”

“I sort of agree with Tucker.” Danny commented. “If anything, it’d bring you two closer.”

“Right?”

Chuckling mirthlessly, the Goth shook her head. Both boys flinched when they saw the pain reflected in her hazel eyes. “Look, being me isn’t easy, okay? I’m not saying life in general ain’t shitty, because that’d be lying, but my life is especially complicated.

“I grew up trying to live up to insanely high expectations, a childhood no kid should ever be forced to go through. I was constantly reminded of the near impossibility that was me making real friends, and I guess, once I reached puberty, it just made me cynical.” Sam admitted quietly, not looking up from her trail of food. “By the time I could try making friends of my own, I was already convinced the moment they learned of my family’s wealth, they’d start seeing me as their personal credit card, instead of my own person who deserves to be loved and accepted just for being who I am.”

Although she desperately tried to hide it, Danny and Tucker immediately exchanged concerned glances the instant she sniffled. Their hearts broke in two for the girl sitting with them. Sure, they’d been Casper High’s laughing stock from the beginning to end of their high school experience, but they always had each other. Sam...Sam spent the majority of her life alone. It was impossible not to feel for her.

“In...in the end,” God, how she hated the way her voice shook! “I decided hiding that part of me was easier. I wanted friends who liked me for me, and having a Black MasterCard was surely going to make things difficult.”

“You have a Black MasterCard?” Tucker accidentally let out. When Danny’s neon green glare started burning a hole in his skull, he backtracked. “I’m sorry, Sam. I mean...I guess I mean I’m sorry.”

“You are? But I’m the one who’s kept you in the dark this long!”

“Yeah, and it hurts.” He admitted. “But it’s obvious you had your reasons and after hearing them, man, I can’t blame you. I would also hide all that cash if I were you. Even though the temptation of flaunting my own private jet in front of all the asholes who used to shove me into lockers would be too great.”

Despite herself, his joke made her laugh. “Thanks Tuck. Friends?” She rubbed her eyes to wipe the imaginary tears away. She was relieved to know she didn’t cry; crying was something Sam Manson just didn’t do. It would’ve been mortifying.

He leaned over to rest a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’re still friends. But you’re paying for our next meal.” That earned him a playful punch on the arm from the Goth, but the smile on her face betrayed her true emotions.

Shaking her head good-naturedly, she scoffed. “Deal.”

After that, the three kept talking amongst themselves. About everything and nothing. Nearing the end of their meal, Danny and Tucker were too engrossed reminiscing about their high school days per her request. Admittedly, just hearing the traumatising experiences they’d been through made her feel suddenly grateful for never attending the dreaded place herself. Still, after the tenth story retelling how some jackass had forced Danny to eat his jockstrap after losing a betーew!ー her mind wandered elsewhere.

Her last encounter with Phantom sent her reeling. The way they both complemented each other when they worked as a team was astounding. It reminded her of Grandma Ida’s tales of how things used to be before the ghosts forced them into hiding, when the two species were practically symbiotic of each other.

For the first time since she received his letter, she found herself trusting him. Most importantly, a part of herself came to wish she could indeed trust him. Perhaps all the centuries apart and resentment had clouded their people’s minds. Maybe they were really better off together than separated. She had to admit her knowledge on ghosts was very limited aside from what she’d been taught her entire life, and if there was something Sam was, that was inquisitive. She never took anything by face value, so why did she do just that with ghosts?

She needed to learn more about them. She needed to act like an individual, rather than a bee awaiting orders from the queen, and do a little research of her own.

She needed answers and, crazy as it might be, she knew where to find them.

“Hey, Danny?” Her voice stopped short Tucker’s retelling of his hellish experience dating the second most popular girl in school. When Danny’s baby blue eyes met hers, she almost lost her nerve. Almost. “Um, would you mind taking me to FentonWorks?”

#Danny Phantom #dp #dp fic #my fic #your heart #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #jazz fenton #Paulina Sanchez #star dp #Amethyst Ocean #ghost king! danny #ghost king au #witch queen au #witch queen! sam #enemies to friends to lovers

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gumnut-logic · 4 years

Text

Worth the Purple

I’m just going to dump this here and walk away. Quality is questionable as I’ve been mostly asleep while writing it. Happy Birfday, Johnny. Sorry it is a day late, I can only sleep type so much, eventually the brain collapses and refuses to function.

I hope you enjoy this anyway.

-o-o-o-

It was late and the sun had long gone down. The villa was quiet. Scott had wandered off to bed early. It had only taken a glare from Virgil to instigate his movement.

The words he had with his eldest brother earlier in the day were obviously taken to heart. Either that or the threat of calling in Grandma if he didn’t get himself some decent sleep had the effect Virgil desired. It didn’t really matter as long as Scott managed some shuteye.

His eldest brother needed management otherwise he’d work himself into an early grave.

Gordon had used his leverage as the injured brother to corner Alan into watching Buddy and Ellie with him after dinner.

Virgil attended to the situation before it became explosive.

Alan was ushered off with a video game and a plead from Virgil to go take a shower before his clothes gained sentience.

Alan’s remarked that John’s discarded trash gained sentience and it had worked well for his brother so, it might not be a bad thing.

The fact the video game in his hand let out a god-awful squawk and died after that statement was probably something Virgil, or at least John should investigate, but as it would probably teach Alan a valuable lesson in keeping his mouth shut, Virgil was willing to let it go for a little while at least.

He doubted Eos would do too much serious damage.

Gordon still had his feet up in their home theatre stuffing his face with popcorn and cheesewhiz.

Consequently, there were large portions of both all over the floor, the seat, his fish brother’s clothing, and the sling wrapped around his left arm.

A comment on Virgil’s behalf about vermin attracting vermin was received with a snort.

Gordon’s distracted answer was that there were no rats on Tracy Island and for the other creatures available, he was helping to keep the ecosystem running.

Virgil commented that he was pretty sure his brother might be capable of encouraging new types of mould.

Gordon told him to go be tidy somewhere else where he wasn’t interrupting a search for the giant cyclops.

Virgil rolled his eyes, checked his brother’s bandages and his vitals -mostly just to annoy him - and left him to it. After all, he had better things to do than tackle lost causes.

He ran into Grandma in the hallway and they swapped family reconnaissance. He knew Kayo was in Brazil for the night, but he hadn’t seen Brains for most of the day. Grandma reported that he had been fed and watered and had possibly developed a new polymer that could be used in the scuff pads on their uniform to help prevent what happened to Gordon from happening again.

It was no surprise. When technology failed, Brains got angry and solutions were the result.

Sometimes several.

Hell, that was how his exosuit was born.

Brains had been so angry that by the time Virgil made it out of hospital, there were five exosuits ready for testing.

Brains saw mechanical failure as personal failure and acted accordingly.

Gordon’s injury was small on the Tracy Scale, but the thirteen stitches in his arm were enough to ignite the genius engineer into a minor inventing fury at least.

Grandma’s hand on his arm squeezed just gently before she drew Virgil into a hug goodnight. He returned her embrace, as always so surprised at just how small his grandmother was, yet so strong.

Letting her go, he headed down to the comms room to chase up the one remaining human occupant of the Island.

John had been missing all evening and while that wasn’t unusual, Virgil felt the need to check on him before bed…otherwise he would be left wondering.

Wondering was never good for sleep.

He had his suspicions of where his star brother might be, so when he found the comms room empty, he wasn’t surprised. A step out onto the balcony and the second most likely place to find John also proved fruitless as the pool glistened in the starlight amongst the empty loungers.

Virgil looked up at the sky. It was a still night. Only the ocean lapping against the Island interrupted the silence. There was no breeze, no rustling of palm or pokey trees. The occasional bat chattered and a disturbed bird muttered, but it was eerily still for their exposed position in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

But the stars told him where to find his brother.

-o-o-o-

It was ever so silent as he made his way up the side of Tracy Peak. The steps he and John had carved into the volcanic rock did their job beautifully, though Virgil would admit that there was no way he would want to do this in bare feet.

That and it was dark despite the subdued lighting. He shone a hand-held torch on the stairs and tried not to kill himself on the steep climb.

He had begged his brother to light the steep ascent, and it had taken some persuasion even to allow the dim red lights that barely outlined the way. Light pollution was a thing and John was a little protective of his midnight vista.

Virgil always made a point of carrying his own torch for a touch of extra safety. After all, it would be really stupid for one of the famed Thunderbirds to kill themselves tripping on stairs in the dark.

As he neared the top of the steps, he lowered his light and shielded it as to not to betray his approach. It was likely John already knew he was there, but there was no reason to disturb his night vision more than necessary.

The observatory was little more than a rock platform high up on Tracy Peak. It sat at a natural lookout point and during the day you could see for miles.

At night it was just shadows and starlit ocean.

It was a good, few metres across and they had used some of the stone they had carved out of the mountainside for the stairs to build a balustrade around the platform’s edge and put in some very basic seating.

John had since added to it with a weatherproof cabinet and storage space for one of his telescopes and there was some technology up here as well.

But they had never built a shelter. John preferred to keep the sky as open as possible and be able to see as much as he could.

And tonight was just spectacular.

Virgil stood a few steps down and killed off his torch, allowing his eyes to adjust fully.

John was talking.

“How many times do I have to tell you to not listen to Gordon?”

“It would help if you hadn’t told me an equal amount of times that I should listen to Gordon. I do believe one of your threats was to ‘swap my processors with a pocket calculator’.” Eos’ voice issued from John’s tablet most perturbed.

His brother sighed. “It is situational. You know that. Gordon acting as an International Rescue operative is far distant from Gordon acting as the brother from hell.”

“And how am I to decipher the difference?”

“The bottle of purple dye and the fact he was requesting entrance to my personal quarters rather than docking with Thunderbird Five should have been a clue.”

“I fail to see how I could possibly have predicted the use of the dioxazine.”

“Then hopefully you have learnt from my suffering.”

“Noted.” There was a pause and Virgil opened his mouth to interrupt. “Should I electrocute Virgil who is currently on approach?”

“What?! No!”

John spun in the shadows and the sparkle of his eyes sought him out in the dark. “Virgil?”

Virgil bit his lip and unshielded his torch a little. “Parenting troubles?”

“Brotherly troubles. An injured and bored Gordon is a menace.”

“You mentioned dye? Shower rose?”

John’s grunt was the only confirmation he needed.

Virgil considered himself to be a nice guy and really, other than revenge, he would never suffer a brother the curse of dye in their shower rose. But he was still a brother and as a brother, a loving brother at that, he couldn’t help but raise the torch in his hand a little to illuminate his younger sibling.

John squirmed under the bright light and Virgil only flashed it up long enough to catch a glimpse of the purple patchwork of his little brother’s hair.

He had to bite back hard not to burst out laughing. The almost pyrrole orange of John’s hair actually worked quite well with the vivid purple streaks all through it.

Once Gordon was recovered all hell was going to break loose.

It was never wise to piss off John.

“Did he give you a reason why?”

“Did you have to do that?” The astronaut rubbed his eyes.

“Yes.”

Well, he wasn’t going to lie.

John huffed. “Does he need a reason?”

“No, I suppose not.” A sigh. “You got a plan?”

“Not one I’m willing to tell anyone.”

“You don’t trust me?”

John snorted. “It is situational.”

“Gee, thanks.” Though John did have a point. He let out a sigh and killed off the torch. “Do me a favour and wait until I’m off the Island. Better yet wait until Scott is away as well. He doesn’t need it and I don’t want to listen to it.”

“FAB.”

There was definitely a smirk in that voice.

But Virgil hadn’t come up here to plot revenge on the Fish. He had come up here to check on his space brother who had kindly come down from on high to assist while Gordon was off rota.

Virgil straightened and settled his shoulders. “How are you, John?”

“Apart from purple spotted?”

“Apart from purple spotted.”

“I’m good.” John took a step away and looked out over the ocean so far down below. “Settling in. It’s a good opportunity to refresh a few skills I haven’t used in a while.” He looked over at Virgil. “And I’m getting to spend some quality time with you guys.”

A snort. “And paying the price.”

“And paying the price.” He looked back over the water again and Virgil followed his gaze. The night was moonless at the moment and, in the middle of the Pacific, the sky was an ocean of stars.

“Spotting some old favourites?” Virgil knew his brother could see far more from Five than he ever could here, but there was something special about this place.

“Yeah. Eos had some questions and I wanted to show her the difference between space-based star study and Earth-based star gazing.”

“A little daddy-daughter time?” That earned him an exasperated grunt.

“You could put it that way.” But his brother sighed. “I’m not sure I’m communicating the entire concept.”

“You said it felt like home.” Eos’ voice was tentative.

Virgil blinked.

“I did.”

“But home is on Thunderbird Five.”

John turned to look at Virgil. “Yes and no.”

“That is not a viable response. Further explanation is required.”

“Home is where the heart is.”

“Are you intending that anatomically or metaphorically?”

“The latter. My home is where my loved ones are. Which is why my home is both here and on Thunderbird Five.”

“You love the stars?”

“I love my family.”

Virgil was staring at his brother. John’s expression was somewhat hidden in the darkness, but the emotion in his words was clear.

There was a pause before Eos replied. “So that would make Thunderbird Five your family’s home as well when you are aboard.”

“Partially, perhaps. Though they would have less attachment to the station than I do.”

“Less attachment to me?”

“No, you are not Thunderbird Five.”

“Then Thunderbird Five is my home.”

“Yes.”

“But only when you are here.”

Virgil found himself holding his breath.

“That depends on your feelings, Eos.” John’s voice was quiet.

There was silence after that. The AI left them hanging. Whether it was from indecision on her part or a decision she didn’t want to or hadn’t thought to share.

“She is amazing.” The words slipped from Virgil’s mouth without thought. Perhaps it was the setting with the world beneath and the universe above. Perhaps it was just hearing a simple truth uttered by his usually very private brother.

Or maybe it was just the distance that usually separated John from Virgil that made sharing a moment like this so difficult.

“Yes, she is.” It was almost whispered, but Virgil could hear the smile behind it.

He reached out and wrapped his fingers around his brother’s bicep. “It’s good to have you down with us, John.”

“I’m happy to be here.” A grunt. “Despite the gravity.”

“Worth the purple?”

It was almost a reluctant whine. “Worth the purple.”

Virgil grinned and squeezed his brother’s arm. Gordon was walking toast.

“Are you going to be long?”

That earned him a glare. “I can stay up past my bedtime.”

“Hey, I’m just concerned for your health. You don’t want to push it. You’ve only been down a few days.”

“I know the procedure, Virgil.”

“I’m just saying. Better me than Grandma.”

That earned him another grunt. “You may have a point.”

“I know I have a point, so don’t stay up here too long.”

John opened his mouth, but he paused and shut it again before turning away and walking over to the telescope that had been ignored the entire time Virgil had been up here.

“I’ll be down shortly.” It was said begrudgingly.

Virgil took his cue and aiming his torch at the stairs, flicked it on and started heading down.

“John?” Eos whispered his brother’s name.

“Yes, Eos?”

“Am I worth the purple?”

Virgil kept making his way down the stairs and he didn’t hear his brother’s response.

But he smiled anyway.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy

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thefloorisbalaclava · 4 years

Text

Everywhere - Chapter 3 - Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

A/N: So I decided to be really cheesy and use a different Fleetwood Mac song for each chapter. This chapter (the ending at least) is based on the song I’m So Afraid. Some of the lyrics are at the end :)

Summary: The case takes you on a mission that you make even more dangerous.

Warnings: None but y’all might get mad at me for leaving you hanging lol

Tagging: @longitud-de-onda @pascalisthepunkest @misslolasworld

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

The next morning most of the things you asked your brother to send down to Colombia for you arrived. You spent most of the morning unpacking the boxes and somewhat organizing. You had to at least feel as though you were settling in. Luckily, Steve told you that he wouldn't need you unless there was an emergency today so you had plenty of time.

Your phone rang and you rushed to answer it just in case this was the emergency Steve needed you for. Fortunately, it was Connie just checking up on you.

"You left with Javi last night?!" she exclaimed.

"Uh...good morning to you."

"So...what happened?" she asked hoping for some juicy story but, in this case, you were glad to disappoint her.

"Nothing at all. We live in the same building so it was just convenient for him to drive me home." Connie sighed on the other end as if you had let her down. "What were you expecting?" you teased.

"I expected you to...live a little," she said.

"I am. I just got here, okay?" There was a knock on your door so you went to answer it. "And if I was gonna sleep with someone it sure as hell wouldn't be…" You opened the door, "Javier Peña…"

"We're addressing each other by full names now?" he asked with that cocky smirk on his face. Connie was still talking but you hadn't heard a word she said.

"Call you later," you said before hanging up.

"Steve said you weren't answering. We got something."

"He sent you to come get me?" You walked away from the door to pick up the things you needed. You checked your sidearm for bullets before putting it in your holster and slipping your jacket on.

"I offered," he confessed.

"Oh...okay. C'mon then." You walked out the door and shut it behind you then walked down the stairs. You got into his car and he climbed into the driver's side. "We meeting him there?"

"Yeah." Javier started the car as you looked straight ahead pretending to find whatever was out there more interesting than anything in the car. "Last night…"

"What about it?"

He turned to you with a confused look on his face. You happened to miss the hurt that flashed in his eyes. "Uh...nothing I guess." He was silent the rest of the time. As soon as he pulled up and you spotted Steve, you hopped out and grabbed the bulletproof vest he handed you.

"What do we got?" you asked.

"One of our informants told us that Poison would be here at this time." Steve looked at you then at Javier sensing the tension. "Is everything…"

"Fine...yeah. Want me to take point?"

"Uh okay?" Steve looked and Javier again and shrugged.

"Let's go." You pulled out your gun and held it down as you approached the small building. You entered first, keeping your eyes and ears trained on any sounds to alert you.

"What the hell happened with you two?" Steve whispered to Javier.

"Shut the fuck up!" you whispered angrily. Suddenly there was the sound of running footsteps above. "Shit!" You began running up the stairs, aiming your gun but whoever it was had already made it onto the roof. "The roof!" you yelled back at them as you ran ahead to give chase. Steve shouted your name but your adrenaline carried you up the rusted ladder and onto the roof. You could hear the men behind you trying to keep up but by the time they made it to the roof you were jumping to the next one.

"She a fucking acrobat or something?!" Javier yelled to Steve behind you. Suddenly a shot went off and the bullet whizzed past you but you kept going, gun drawn and aimed at the man running wildly ahead of you. You stopped in order to get a better shot.

"It's over, buddy," you whispered as you took the shot and the man cried out. Javier and Steve stopped behind you as you holstered your gun. "I got him." You turned to them with a smile then a shot rang out and Javier was at your side faster than you could blink your eyes. Someone shouted something at you but Javier was holding you so tightly you couldn't make out anything.

"Stay with her. I'll go," Steve said before making his way towards where the shot came from. You had hoped the other men had gone and picked up the man you shot.

"You can let go now," you mumbled before shoving away from him. You two looked at each other for a moment before you walked around him and made you way off the roof.

Back down on the ground, you had found the man you shot being put into an ambulance. He spotted you and began yelling all sorts of things. He said they were coming for you and that this wasn't over. You had a price on your head now and they wouldn't stop until you were dead.

"Did you need me to-" Javi started.

"I got it. Empty threats don't scare me." You walked over to Steve. "You find the other guy?" He shook his head and your heart sunk but you didn't let them see that. "We'll get him."

"You shot one of their men," Steve said, "You gotta watch yourself."

"Steve, I don't need a lecture." Your hands shook so you crossed your arms to hide them. "We should be able to get some information outta that guy, right?" You looked towards the ambulance.

"Not if you're asking," Javier said, sauntering up beside you. "You should probably let us handle that part."

You looked between the two of them and scoffed. "Whatever." You mumbled a word you had learned in Spanish under your breath.

"What was that?" Javier asked. You only glared at him before walking away.

"What did she say?" Steve asked.

"I'm pretty sure she just called us assholes." Javier watched you walk away and get into the car. "You know, she's fucking gorgeous, but she's gotta work on that aggression."

"You wanna tell her that?" Steve slapped Javier on the shoulder and made his way to the car. Javier followed, climbing into the back seat since she had taken the passenger seat.

"That was stupid, you know?" Javier said as soon as he was settled in. Steve turned to him quickly then looked at you nervously. "Running ahead like that...you didn't know what you were getting yourself into."

"Once again, I don't need a lecture."

"It's not a lecture, it's me telling you to use your damn brain next time." He sat back, frustrated.

"Thank you, Burt Reynolds. I'll try to remember that." You stared straight ahead as Steve drove and put a hand over his mouth to mask the laugh that tried to escape.

"Burt Reynolds?" Javier sat up straight again.

"She's right. It's the mustache," Steve chuckled. You looked at Steve and let yourself laugh a little. When you looked back at Javier, he was trying to be angry but failing. The little smirk gave him away.

"You're both assholes, you know that?" he said as Steve pulled up to the station. Steve got out and you sat there for a moment gathering your thoughts.

"You okay?" Steve asked through the window.

"Yeah...fine. I just need a minute." As soon as the coast was clear you let out a shaky breath and covered your face. This wasn't the first time someone shot at you but it reminded you of the first time. That time, the bullet actually hit you. You rubbed your chest where the wound was. It seemed to be throbbing now. You almost died then. Anyone else would've taken that as a lesson learned but you were stubborn. Running onto the roof today was a shitty idea, Javier was right, but you'd never tell him that. When that gunshot rang out you couldn't get down fast enough but Javier had been there and his first instinct was to protect you. He had a heart even if he was sort of an asshole. You kind of were too.

You made your way into the station, removing the vest and throwing it onto your desk with a sigh. Steve watched every move you made and knew you weren't okay.

"Go home," he said, pulling you from your thoughts.

"What?" You looked up from the desk.

Javier walked in smoking a cigarette and stopped when he saw the way you looked at Steve.

"You almost got shot today and you don't think I noticed you bothering with that old wound? You're thinking too much. You're scared and you need to rest."

"I ain't scared," you snapped quickly moving your hand away from the wound. "But...fine." Javier was about to speak as you approached him to walk out of the office. "Move," you said as his mouth opened and he closed it right away.

"She's been shot before?" Javier asked, still watching as you walked away.

"Yeah. Long time ago now but it still bothers her every now and then. She almost died." Steve read through some papers on his desk but Javier kept his eyes on you until he no longer could.

At home, you curled up on the sofa and cried. Steve had been right, you were scared. It wasn't just the gunshot though. What that man said...they wanted to kill you. You were certain he also said something about using you before killing you and that made it worse. Now you would be afraid of every sound; every knock on your door, every shadow in the dark. With the adrenaline wearing off, you began to feel just how tired and sore you were. You were afraid but that didn't stop your eyes from closing.

Knock knock knock.

You sat up too quickly and closed your eyes to stop the room from spinning. You grabbed your gun and walked to the door, pulling it open and aiming at the person on the other side.

"Whoa!" Javier put his hands up and you lowered the gun.

"What the hell do you want, Javier?" You sighed and walked away from the door.

"I was just checking on you." He walked in and closed the door behind him.

"Did Steve put you up to it?" you asked, getting yourself a glass of water.

"No."

You stopped drinking and looked at him. "Oh. Well, as you can see I'm right as rain. Don't wanna keep you from any of your meetings with informants."

He chuckled bitterly. "Right. You know, the least you can do is thank me. I saved your ass today."

"I didn't need saving."

"Why can't you just admit that you're scared, hm? Or would you rather continue to take it out on everyone around you?" He walked to the door and opened it. "Good-fucking-night," he said angrily before slamming the door.

"Dammit." You leaned against the kitchen counter and shook your head. "Fuck you, Peña." Yet you stared at the door contemplating. "I don't need anyone checking up on me. I'm fine," you lied to yourself. "Alone. I love being alone even if I am afraid." Yet you were pulling your door open and walking to his. This was a bad fucking idea. Why were you doing this? "I am fine," you whispered even as you lifted your hand and knocked on his door. When he opened it you could hardly look into his eyes. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips.

"I don't wanna be alone right now," you confessed. He moved aside and let you in.

I been alone All the years So many ways to count the tears I never change I never will I'm so afraid the way I feel

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña x fem!reader #Narcos #Pedro Pascal #headcanon

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davisgools · 3 years

Text

LOVE ON THE BRAIN

tagging: davis + @giannastone when: monday, february 15th where: stone residence notes: this is basically going to be a thread, but i wrote too intricate of a starter for this to not be a self para. i present - davis goolsby finding his heart and performing ‘love on the brain’ by rihanna noah guthrie to get gigi back.

Davis Goolsby was not the type of person that ever grew nervous in situations. He was calm, collected, and most importantly, calculated. However, as his body slid into his expensive SUV and began the short drive to the Stone residence, he could feel nothing but a bundle of nerves attacking his stomach. He didn’t care if people didn’t understand why he was trying to get Gigi back, because it made the most sense to him. Besides, he had already ruined his Valentine’s Day by skipping out on Candyland to discuss a couple things with Gigi’s family, he would be damned if he ruined the rest of his year by letting her slip out of his fingers. So today was made for nothing more than him trying one last time to show Gigi that his life revolved around nothing more than her.

Considering the fact that Davis had bribed Gigi’s family with a five star dinner three towns over (and sending them pictures of his progress) in exchange for the house for the next four hours, he knew that he had plenty of time to get everything set up. It was bad enough that he was skipping his second half of school to prepare for Gigi’s arrival at home, but it was a completely different story once Davis was sprinkling a multitude of red, pink, and white cut out heart shapes from the front door, through the house, and out at the back door. He was going to make damn sure that Gianna Stone couldn’t even formulate the short word of ‘no’ whenever Davis poured his heart and soul (kind of) to her.

By the time Gigi was arriving home and gaining comfort inside of her house, she was being met with sloppily scribbled signs reading ‘leave your coat on’, ‘follow the hearts to get mine’, ‘davis + gigi’. It wasn’t until she was arriving outside that Davis was able to show exactly why he hadn’t been texting her back, nor why he hadn’t been an attendant at the Candyland event the night before. Honestly, Davis’ Valentine’s Day had remained with Gigi being the focal point, but only from a distance. While it wasn’t the most intricate set up (he did only have a couple hours to set up), her back yard was riddled with fairy lights, various heart decorations that Davis had obviously spent time making on his own, and the stupid Ohio snow being it’s own decoration. It wasn’t wooing her on a Goolsby “family” vacation, but it was going to have to work in the short time that he had to plan things.

“Just give me five minutes,” Davis said from where he was positioned in the middle of the backyard, guitar in hand, and trying his hardest to not find the whole situation to be way too ‘the Notebook’ instead of buying her a simple expensive piece of jewelry to show how sorry he was - he had a pretty shocking necklace in his coat pocket, but he didn’t need all of the dramatics to present the gift to her. Without much else of a waiting period for Gigi to protest or throw a fit, Davis’ began singing the first couple words of the song before he was strumming along on his guitar.

Baby you go me like What you want from me And I try to buy your pretty love The price to high

It didn’t matter what anyone else thought about his relationship with Gigi. While he knew his limitations whenever it came to the Canary during competition season, the Canaries reign of musical supremacy had come to an end early this year, all thanks to their completely illiterate captain. The Vocal Adrenaline contract that would damn their relationship had come to an end for the competitive year of 2040-2041, so there was nothing wrong with this. They worked. Gigi knew things about Davis that no one else did, and Davis knew a whole helluva lot more about Gigi and where she came from than anyone else.

Baby you got me like Love when I fall apart So you can put me together Throw me against the wall

As he continued singing the song and giving it his all, he began taking slower steps to approach Gigi. He wasn’t sure what her reaction was going to be to everything going on. They communicated in the form of music, and while this song wasn’t the most romantic by any means, it told the story of Davis and Gigi. It was perfect in their own toxically good kind of way. It mirrored the same fashion of whenever Gigi had performed the most threatening country song of ‘Before He Cheats’ by Carrie Underwood in the Crawford auditorium with a delightful Canary backup choir after hearing about his private performance lesson with Amber at the beginning of the school year.

Baby you got me like, Don't stop loving me Just keep loving me Just start loving me

Once he was in front of her, Davis took a deep breath before he got into the big finish of his own version of a Vocal Valentine. As he sang the lyrics, Davis started circling around Gigi’s body, leaning his back up against the side of her body in a rather dramatic fashion as he sang the words lower and more privately for the two of them. This had to work, right?

Oohh and babe, fist fighting with fire Just to get close to you Can we burn something babe And I drive for miles Just to get a taste

Davis circled back around to be positioned in front of Gigi before he was stopping the playing of his guitar and finishing his serenade with an impressive “must be love on the brain.” As Davis caught his breath and tried to not allow his confidence to falter by any means, he set his guitar down before he was grabbing both of Gigi’s hands and smiling breathlessly at her. “Can we please stop doing this? I miss you, G. I’m sorry I’m late but I had to... well, this took some planning.” With a heavy sigh, Davis locked eyes with her before he was speaking again, “I know I’m not supposed to follow up an apology with a ‘but’. Just... would you be my valentine again?”

#thread ft. gigi #love on the brain

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wri0thesley · 4 years

Text

dfnjvngfb please be nice to me about this because it’s VERY self-indulgent and also very explicitly self-insert and not reader-insert, but . . . i wrote some nat/prosciutto inspired by an ask i saw about being a dance teacher. and i thought; hmm. i’ve always wanted to learn how to swing dance for that 50s repro life, and i bet prosciutto would be up for that--

is this a meet cute

[brief a/n: nat is a 23 year old opera student at a fancy italian conservatory. they left a while before studying bc opera singer’s voices mature and also christ the price, they had to save up. imagine this dress. prosciutto swing dances because he likes it and also he picks up older women with rich husbands and money to burn who’ll spoil him a bit, heaven knows la squadra doesn’t pay him enough. he’s amassed quite a bit of wealth just by being older women’s - and sometimes men’s - sugar baby, but he likes the dancing enough to carry on doing it. usignolo means songbird/nightingale]

You linger outside the studio’s building for a minute, trying to gather up the courage to go inside. Sure, this had seemed like a good idea last week when you’d seen a flyer on your conservatoire’s notice board, and considered how your International Studies Coordinator had suggested getting more involved in the local community. You’re pretty sure she’d intended for you to try bars, socialising with other people your age . . . but. Well. You’ve never really been one for loud clubs or thumping music.

So you’d taken a phone number and booked a place in the class and tried to ignore the pounding of anxiety in your throat every time you thought about actually making a social commitment in a country you’ve barely been in for a month.

You bite your lip, wondering if you’re going to be overdressed. Sure, you’re used to being overdressed - being in a full face of makeup and neat heels and stockings in an eight-in-the-morning Music Theory class when your classmates look like the walking dead after a night enjoying Naples’ nightlife, but those are people who you see every day. Making a good impression on people you hope to be social with . . . that’s a totally different can of worms.

Some people have hurried past you in full ballet garb; neat chignons, elegant lines, holding their canvas dance bags and shooting you curious glances. You’re not built to be a ballet dancer, you suppose; but then again, that’s not why you’re here. You check the time again. You’re five minutes early.

Okay. Good impression. You’re not going to walk into the room ten minutes late. Maybe if you get in there early, you can seem like you belong. Ignoring the pounding in your stomach and the fact your nerves are begging you to turn back and forget this whole idea, you push into the building and make your way to the dance studio number you were told to come to. Your heels clack on the wooden floor - you’d done as much research as you could before coming here (always terrified of being out of step, or just doing things wrong), but you can’t shake the nagging anxiety that perhaps you’re going to be the sore thumb.

God, you hope you’re not a sore thumb in all the worst reasons, peeking into one of the windows of the other studios and seeing a line of willowy androgynous ballet dancers, stretching elegant limbs up to the ceiling and pointing toes of well-muscled lithe legs. You tug at your dress, nervous again of your curves and your general being.

You push open the door to Studio Number Seven.

. . . Well.

Perhaps you shouldn’t have worried about being overdressed. The other people in here wearing dresses are wearing nice floral prints and swing skirts and neat cardigans. Your own black dress seems a little somber in comparison (cheered up by one of your collection of 1950s embroidered brooches), but that’s not the thing you notice.

The thing you notice is the silver hair, the glasses perched on noses, the crow’s feet and the indulgent smiles when they see you.

You are certainly not going to be befriending peers, that’s for sure.

The instructor herself only has about a decade on you, and you’re almost relieved to see that she’s wearing a cherry-printed dress with faux Bettie Page bangs. That’s more like your kind of people. She bounces up to you, neat and enthusiastic.

“You’re Nat, right?” She asks, smiling, and you find yourself smiling back. “I know you said you were a student, but I was still expecting someone . . .” She gestures vaguely at the room around her, and you can’t help but let some of the tension drain out of your shoulders.

“Yeah,” you say, “I’m not sure what I was expecting.”

She laughs.

“Well,” she says, “it’s a dying art, swing dancing! We should be glad that there are young people wanting to take it up. Do you have any experience at all? You’re certainly dressed the part!” She winks at you. “I love seeing the outfits, honestly - one of my favourite parts of teaching for sure!”

You shake your head.

“Not in swing dance,” you say. “A little in ballet and tap, but I guess that’s . . . not a transferable skill, huh?” She claps your shoulder.

“It means you’ve got some rhythm in you,” she says. “Now, let me see -- ah! I have the perfect partner for you. He’ll give you a hand whilst you’re finding your feet--”

She turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd of students, and that’s when you see him for the first time. He’s taller than the rest of the elderly bowed students, stoop-shouldered - standing above them with a quantity of slicked back blond hair and cheekbones you could cut diamonds with, sharply tailored suit cut to show off a muscled chest. He sees you looking at him and he turns his gaze on you, blue eyes icy, sweeping across your form in a way that makes you avert your eyes and try not to be swallowed up by the studio floor. You see, from the corner of your eye, the smirk . . . and then you see the instructor come over to him, tug gently on his arm and speak softly under her breath.

You’re flustered as the instructor brings the handsome blond over to you, flush rising to your cheeks - seeing your reaction to him, the man shoots you a charming smile, revealing the slightest overbite and a gap in his teeth, and oh . . . that’s unfair. He inclines his head, a half bow, holding out one hand for you to take as the instructor nods.

“This is Armando,” she says to you. “I think he’ll be a wonderful partner, he’s been coming here for months and he’s such a good teacher, I should be paying him some of my salary!”

“Just because you’re such a good teacher, I’m sure,” the blond man says. He turns to you as the instructor shoots you a wink and moves away to go towards the front of the room. His eyes on you make you burn warm. You resist the urge to chew on your lip, looking up at him through lowered lashes.

“Did she . . .” You nod towards the instructor, “partner us together because you’re closer in age to me than everyone else?”

The man hums, a small smile on his handsome face, as you hesitantly take his hand. His fingers are soft and warm but self-assured as he moves closer, other hand landing on the curve of your waist. His aftershave smells woodsy and smoky and it’s all you can do to not breathe it in deeply.

“Perhaps,” he remarks, voice soft and deep. “I am only sixty five.”

“You must have an amazing skincare routine.”

He smirks.

“I do.”

The instructor claps her hands together at the front of the class and you both turn, but his hand doesn’t let go of yours and his grip on your waist doesn’t falter. From the corner of your eye, you see looks from the other women in the class that are obviously jealousy. You try to ignore it; it’s unusual, for you to be the one people are jealous of. It’s almost . . . nice.

Still. You’re trying to make friends, so you don’t gloat in it.

The instructor talks, moving across the room, gently correcting some people’s holds, talking animatedly. She pauses by you and Armando, but she nods and smiles instead of touching you. As you and he begin to move, slowly, he leans in closer.

“You know . . . my name,” he says (there’s a lingering impression that something about this statement makes him uncomfortable; it’s strange to hear him sound unsure when every inch of him oozes confidence and surety). “But I don’t know yours. What brings you to our jolly class?”

“Nat,” you say, “just . . . just Nat.” He tips his head, leaving the conversation open, his eyes utterly focused on you in a way that you’ve never really felt. He seems genuinely invested. “I’m an opera singer. A student, I mean. At . . . at the conservatorio?”

“Ah,” he says, smiling. “A nightingale.”

You blush, and the hand on your waist tightens imperceptibly at the way your eyes flicker away from him in embarrassment at the sweet name.

“And the swing dance?” He asks, one eyebrow raised. “I mean . . . I’m not complaining, but as you can see . . .” He inclines his head at the other students.

“I just . . . like the fifties. You know . . . elegant dresses, petticoats, the music . . . I’m not romanticising it or anything, but I just like that idealised idea of it, you know? A-anyway! What about you? Y-you don’t look like the type--”

“Touche,” he says, smiling softly, but he doesn’t say anything beyond that.

You and he spend the rest of the lesson partnered together. He’s elegant, quick, smiling at you when you catch his eye amongst a whirl of petticoats and a breathless swell of the music. You know that you’re a little clumsy on your feet (you can’t help that! Not with a man like this so close to you, leaning down to murmur close to your face, holding onto your waist so firmly as if he doesn’t want to let you go).

He murmurs things about some of the other students as he whirls you around, that make you laugh and widen your eyes and insist ‘no!’. Every time he gets a rise out of you, a response of flushed cheeks and giggles and demurely turned down eyes, he seems to get a little more intense on how he’s handling you.

You’re in a mess of a beating heart and short breath and pink cheeks by the time that the instructor calls time on the day’s class, and you feel like you’ve had a successful time. Sure, you didn’t mingle with anybody else but . . . Armando, but you’ve had a good time. You feel confident and excited at the prospect of next week’s lesson. Pulling away from him and straightening yourself out a little, you offer him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry if I wasn’t very good,” you say. “I’m . . . I’m not the most graceful.” You gesture down to the curves of your body, that often feel so ungainly and as if they’re taking up more space than you deserve to. “I guess you’ll go back to another partner next week, but thank you for helping--”

He quirks his lips, one eyebrow raised.

“I don’t have to.” He says. “I’m perfectly content to partner you, you know. You were . . . Well.” He laughs, a little soft noise that you can tell from the look in his eyes isn’t intended to be at all mocking. “You were a pleasure to dance with, if we were off-beat plenty of the time.” He pauses. “And . . . if you want, I’d be more than happy to go over some things with you before next week’s session,” he says, his words easy, and your heart skips a beat. You’d worried that maybe he’d be annoyed by being paired off with someone who’s got no idea what they’re doing, by someone who looks like you when a man like that probably spends most of his time surrounded by people just as beautiful--

“Really?” You ask, blinking up at him. “I don’t want to be an imposition.”

His laugh is light again, his fingers gently dancing up your arm, a touch that’s intended - you’re sure - to be comforting, but that sends a frisson of electricity all through you.

“Oh, you won’t be. As long as you’re willing to indulge me with dinner first, bella.”

You know that your blood rushes to your face even beneath the powder and the makeup, and you know, too, that there’s no way he misses it. A smirk pulls at the corner of his full mouth, and you question whether you actually fell over and hit your head at some point and are now hallucinating.

“Perhaps afterwards,” you tell him. “I don’t know if I could dance on a full stomach.”

He laughs, the noise low and smooth. You can feel jealous eyes on your back - and can you blame them? Look at him.

“I didn’t say it would be dancing, did I?”

“I--” Your brain moves lightning fast, trying to get your brain to respond to him in kind, but he doesn’t give you time to think of something witty. The hand on your arm moves, dancing across your collarbone, brushing the vintage brooch, resting briefly on the full warmth of your cheek, tipping your face up to him.

“Verpazza, Wednesday night, 9PM,” he says to you. You recognise the name of one of the more upscale restaurants you pass on your way to classes from your shitty rented room in the boarding house for international students, and you fight to stop your eyes widening. Your poor student budget certainly wouldn’t allow for such luxuries. “Ask for Prosciutto’s table if you’re there before me. I’ll take care of it.”

There’s something in his smile that suggests to you he loves the idea of taking care of things; that he’s getting a real thrill out of playing the knight in shining armour. Well. You’ve heard plenty of tell about Italian men (and plenty of horror stories from other people in your class) - but he seems . . . indulgent. Like he loves the idea of providing for someone.

“Like the ham?” You ask him, and a flicker of amusement passes over his face. “Is that your surname?”

A flash of something else in his eyes. You can’t quite name it - but you don’t fail to notice his eyes flicker, as if checking nobody else is listening. He tries to keep his voice easy.

“Mm. An unfortunate family name, and a name that’s stuck.” He winks at you. “You’ll never hear anybody outside of this room call me . . . Armando.” The name sounds wrong on his tongue, the slightest grimace following the syllables. Blue eyes turning icy, just for a moment. He pulls himself back, smiling at you again. “You can call me Prosh, if you want.”

“You don’t seem the nickname type.” He laughs.

“Mm. Well. . . I’d prefer to hear the full thing, but if it’s your voice, usignolo--”

You recognise the nickname and flush, warm. The smile he gives you is crooked and makes your toes curl in your heels, your entire body feel warm, your head feel light. Okay, you might not have made friendly connections . . . but you’ve certainly made some kind of connection.

“Wednesday?” You ask him, again, wanting to really feel sure. You’ve been . . . stood up, plenty of times. Used as a joke. Your shoulders draw in imperceptibly, but Prosciutto - you try and reconcile calling him after the meat - tilts his head to the side.

“Your phone,” he says, holding out a hand. “Let me put my number in, and you can call it for proof. I’m perfectly serious, cara. I’m a man of my word.” He looks at you softly, hand on your waist, and gently helps guide you out of the studio. Most of the other dancers have left by now, and you can see the instructor glancing towards you and clearly waiting for you two to leave too so she can prepare for her next class. Pausing in the corridor, he looks down at you, face perfectly serious. “I don’t know who’s had the nerve to hurt you in the past . . . but I’m not that kind of person.”

You bite your lip, and he shifts closer to you. He’s not incredibly tall, but you’re small enough that the height difference feels pronounced. The hand is soft when he tips your chin up, blue eyes meeting blue eyes. His own are half-lidded, drifting down to your lips (when you’d applied the dark red lipstick marketed as ‘kissproof’ this morning, you hadn’t thought that it was going to be something that was tested!). He leans into you and you find yourself unconsciously rising onto your tiptoes--

The kiss he gives you is almost chaste, save for the slightest nip at your lower lip (you think about the gap between his front teeth and feel like you’re going to melt). Your breath stutters against his, the taste of mint toothpaste and smoke and honey leaving a tingle upon your mouth.

“I’m serious,” he breathes against you, pulling back. “Nine in the evening. Wear something pretty,” his eyes flicker down, caressing the curves of your body in a way that makes you warm all over. “. . . though I don’t doubt you will.”

#nat.txt #self ship postin #writing #this is. self indulgence at its finest.#is this canon? who knows but its Cute Concept #pronat i guess #pronat

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yourescared-howadorable · 4 years

Text

I’ll Be Watching You

Stalker!Mark x Reader

Warnings: stalking, possessive and obsessive behavior.

Literally an excuse to make a preview for this upcoming fic. The lyrics will be in red. Tell me if I should do this for the other ones if this turns out okay?

Every breath you take.

Mark watched you from his seat, always making sure to sit further away from you. His hand leaned on his hand, not caring about the lesson on the board as he watched you intently take down the notes.

Every move you make

Your (h/c) hair was pushed behind your ear, getting it out of your way and showing Mark the perfect angle of your beautiful face.

The bell rung as you finished the notes, closing your notebook and putting your pencil in your hoodie pocket while picking up the notebook. You hand pulled out your phone, checking it.

Every bond you break

“(Y/n), how come you stop talking to me? I keep hearing people saying that you’re saying shit behind my back?” Mark looked up, his eyes narrowing at seeing the blond glaring at his angel.

You pulled out an earbud, looking up from picking out your music. “Are these people real? Or are you trying to start something? Just like how you told Lauren that you thought you were pregnant before complaining that people were coming up to you and asking if you were; even though no one ever did?”

“How dare you? I thought we were friends!!”

“I did too Khaja. Until I realized that you were just wanting to cause drama and pull the attention on you.” You sighed, putting up your phone as you knew you weren’t going to play on it soon. “Are you serious right now (y/n)?”

“What? I’m just saying the truth. You lie to make sure that you have the attention. You lie about sob stories to make sure people pity you. I’ve seen you thrown a tantrum because someone wouldn’t look at you.”

“You’re lying!”

“I’m not. Nor would I waste my time talking bad about you behind your back. Because I could just say it to your face.” You saw her face redden with anger, but it didn’t worry you. You shrugged it off and walked past her; leaving her behind.

(Based on a true person... All this is actually true and my secret way of venting of this... Sorry about that😫)

Every step you take

Mark watched you from his seat in the cafeteria, watching you sit down by your friends. His eyes softened at seeing your sparkling eyes and turned to mush when he saw you laughing.

That beautiful laugh... He wanted to be the reason that he was making you laugh, to show him that beautiful smile.

I'll be watching you.

Click. He lowered the camera, looking at the picture he took. You were walking back to your house, Mark silently falling along.

Mark always made sure that you got home safe. You never noticed him because of your earbuds in. But he loved to hearing you singing on the way home, it was the highlight of this whole walk.

Click. He got a picture of you as you were standing by the street to cross. Your hands were dug into the pockets, your hair pulled back. Your hands pulled out your phone, changing the song and then looking up to check the road before crossing.

Every single day

Day after day, Mark’s time was devoted to you and only you. Every hour of his life, he made sure your life was perfect.

He took care of Khaja, makes sure no one ever tries to rob your house, makes sure that you get good grades if you ever having an off day. He knows blackmail against all teachers.

He makes the universe perfect for his angel. Everything must be perfect for you.

Every word you say

Mark leaned against the wall, the shadows of the auditorium hiding him. He took pictures as you were practicing a song you would need to sing for a concert.

Your beautiful, angelic voice. He’s phone was recording in his pocket so he could listen to your voice as he falls asleep.

Every game you play

“I got it!” You called out, hands clasping together before bumping the volleyball into the air. Your teammate jumped up, slapping the ball over the net.

Three opponents went for the ball, then freezing at seeing the other one running for the ball. Their frozen state is what allowed the ball to hit the ball and score your team a point.

Mark was sitting in the bleachers, taking pictures of the game. The crowd was cheering for your team, your school being put in the lead.

“Come on (y/n)!” A male called out, cheering you on and making you smile in response. Mark gave the man a dark glare, his hand tightening on his camera in response.

I will make him pay for trying to get in the way of our love

Every night you stay

Mark lowered the lock picking set and pushed it in his pocket, looking around the house. His eyes widened with happiness and he walked through the house, easily finding your room and quietly pushing open the door.

You were sleeping on the bed, the covers pulled up to below your chest. You were laying in a loose, comfortable sports bra. Your (h/c) hair was sprawled under your head, making a small halo as your eyes were shut. Your rosy lips were parted, letting off soft breaths.

I'll be watching you.

He sat besides your bed, putting his hand on your cheek and brushing the stray hairs away. His heart melted at seeing you peacefully sleeping, not a care in the world.

So beautiful...

Click.

Oh can't you see?

Mark watched you walk past him, keeping to yourself. A couple of your friends waved at you, getting a timid nod in response.

You always liked getting to your class much as possible, not wanting to get stuck in the crowd. Mark also easily followed you, making sure you got to your class without anyone disrupting you.

You belong to me

“I think you’re really pretty.” Mark’s eyes narrowed as he almost broke his pencil in his hand. You looked at guy before awkwardly looking the side, unsure of how to take to compliment.

You were never used to this. Hearing any compliment always stunned you as you doubted yourself, never ventured out to get attention.

“Oh... Uh... Thanks?” You responded back in a high pitched voice, almost uncomfortable. Mark smirked, knowing who he would have to take care of. “Would you like to go see a movie sometime?”

“Oh... Uh...” You fiddled with the earbuds and said, “Well, between practices and everything. I might be busy. I’ll see what I can do.”

You gathered your notebook, making your way out of the classroom quickly to get to your next class while Mark was glaring at the guy.

How my poor heart aches with every step you take.

Mark watched you walk past him again, sighing softly. He wanted to hold your hand, show everyone who you belonged to, that you are his. Only his.

But you don’t know him. Yet.

Every move you make

“This way.” The group was lead through the musical hall. Mark smiled at the way your eyes lit up.

Click.

There was a group taking a trip to go watch a musical. As soon as Mark saw you sign up, he was next. He wouldn’t leave you alone.

Nor would he give up a chance to see you this excited. He loved the way you react to see everything.

Your eyes looked everything backstage, awing and seeing the costumes. Gently, your hand ran over the fabric of a dress.

Beautiful. Mark thought, taking a picture. One of the staff walked up to Mark while holding his wrist. “No pictures backstage.”

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t take any pictures of this filth. It’s not worthy.” Mark growled, giving the staff a sharp glare for even having the thought to touch him.

Every vow you break

“Why haven’t you even felt bad for Khaja’s death?” You heard a voice besides you asked in homeroom. Lazily, you looked over as you were tired from the lake of sleep. “What?”

“Khaja’s death. You haven’t even cried or sad about it!”

“What’s there to be sad about a lying bitch?” You asked, shrugging your shoulders. “Even in death she holds the attention she craved for, I bet she’s gleaming in joy.”

“Heartless bitch.” Your chest stung as you watched the student marched off, but you didn’t have the energy to care. It was horrible that you felt like this, but you were really tired of her.

Your head dropped on your arms as you closed your eyes, falling into a short nap till homeroom ended.

Mark watched the student walk away, his blood boiling. How dare they call his precious angel a heartless bitch? He’ll make sure they pay the same price that Khaja did.

Every smile you fake

“How’s volleyball?” You looked up from your plate, seeing your father looking at you. “Oh... It’s going great.”

“Just great?” He raised an eyebrow. You nodded solemnly. “They want me to become captain.”

“Do it.”

“Yes father.” You said with a smile, feeling a pressure weighing in your chest. Volleyball was fun, but it’s not what you wanted to do.

Click.

Mark frowned as he looked at the recent picture, noticing the dull look in your eyes. This is your father’s fault. He’s taking away your beauty, he’s tainting you...

Yes, he’ll make sure to get rid of your father.

Every claim you stake

“(Y/n), did you really lie to get out of here?” Mark leaned on the wall, watching you run around in your dress. He loved that dress on you, but he hated how others had to see you wear it.

“Yes. I’m late. Where are my shoes??” You freaked out, seeing the scolding look from your teacher. Mark glared at her, letting her catch him in the mirror. He gave her a mocking look and her face paled, allowing you some slack.

You were relieved and someone handed you your shoes. “Let’s go! On the stage!”

One of the helpers called out. You made a small eep and hopped on one foot while putting on your shoes, running out.

“Why are you here?” The teacher asked Mark once the room was empty. Mark leaned off of the wall and toyed with his camera. “My baby is here. Why wouldn’t I be here to support her?”

“(Y- y/n)?” He smirked. Her eyes widened and he gave her a dark look. “Say something to her about this and I’ll make sure you’re fired within a day with never getting hired by another school again. Don’t forget, they don’t like druggies.”

He left the teacher alone, going out to watch you perform beautifully.

I'll be watching you.

“(Y/n)!” You turned your hair as you shouldered your bag, looking back at the guy running up to you. “Yes?”

You were already getting uncomfortable by this stranger coming up to you. “I finally found you!”

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh sorry, my name’s Jimin. We’ll be working on a partner dance for a competition.” He smiled, making you feel more at ease at seeing his comforting nature. “Really?”

“Yep! Do you have a study hall? I think we should get practicing as quickly as we can.” Mark’s grip tightened on his camera as he felt his blood boil. No... He was no going to allow that.

Every breath you take

“You’re so good!” Jimin complimented you as you finished part of the solo that you managed to learn. You smiled, breathing heavy. “Thanks. Let’s see what you learned.”

Mark was getting more and more annoyed. This stupid Jimin. He couldn’t get rid of him. Every time he tried, he survived.

This was really starting to piss him off.

Every move you make

“Come on ladies. Let’s go!” You jogged around the court, Mark sitting in the bleachers. He was pretending to do homework but was really watching you.

You were finally away from Jimin. Finally. That stupid boy wasn’t dampening your beauty, wasn’t tainting you. There were pictures he had to take to make up for the ones he didn’t take because Jimin would be in them.

Every bond you break

“I said I was fine!” You snapped, slamming your hands on the table. Some of the students stepped back from your outburst. While you were breathing heavy, you sat back down with pulling your hood above your head.

You didn’t want to talk to anyone. Not after what happened. “We were just checking on you (y/n).”

“Don’t bother.” You mumbled, laying your head on your arms. Your father was murdered and you weren’t having the best time dealing with it.

It almost made Mark feel bad. Almost. He remembered what that man did. He deserved to die.

Every step you take

Click.

You walked down the street, keeping your earbuds in as you just walked. You didn’t have anyone waiting at home. So you were trying to clear your head.

Mark was making sure no one bothered you. While you were being the perfect muse for him.

Every bond you break

“Don’t worry princess, you’ll be safe soon. I won’t keep making you wait.” Mark whispered as he was sitting besides your bed. You were sleeping peacefully, unaware of the stalker besides you.

“Life has been too cruel to a beautiful flower for you too long. I’ll rescue you from this hell.”

Every step you take

“Sorry.” You bowed your head as you bumped into Mark. Your notebook and his binders fell from his hands. You kneeled down, picking them up as he was helping you. “No, it was my fault.”

“No. I should have noticed where I was going.” You argued and Mark thought it was adorable. Then his almost growled in annoyance when he heard Jimin’s voice, “There you are (y/n)! Come on, we got practice.”

Jimin helped you up, giving a sharp look to Mark. Mark glared back. You were unaware of the two’s hostile demeanor, both disappearing when you looked up. “See you around...”

“Oh, I’m Mark.”

“(Y/n).” You introduced yourself before Jimin dragged you off. Mark watched you go, looking back at his camera. He picked it off from the ground, glad it wasn’t damaged before looking at the pictures filled with you.

I'll be watching you.

#yandere mark #stalker mark #nct mark #mark lee #yandere mark x reader #stalker mark x reader #nct x reader

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legolaslovely · 5 years

Text

Just Us and Fili

A/N: This is long af but I’m really proud of it! Also, I’m going through a Kili stage as you can all see. Hope you enjoy this story with our little babee. And props to you if you get my little Poldark reference! I’m obsessed.

Pairing: Kili x Reader

Word Count: 3,696 <don’t let it scare you! I promise it moves!

Warnings: teeny angst for plot, FLOOF, allusions to smut, drinking/drunk characters

Summary: Kili, Fili and (Y/N) have a last night of fun at the pub before meeting Kili’s intended from another kingdom. Kili begins to have second thoughts.

Masterlist here

You were reading by the bright but fading light of the window in your chambers when the large door swung open. You glanced up to see the princes falling into the room.

“What are you-” you began.

“Damn it, Fili! We need to knock first!” Kili whisper shouted. “Come, come, come, we’ll do it again. Go! Go out.” He dragged his brother out into the corridor and closed the door again.

You rolled your eyes and chuckled, waiting for the sound. When they knocked, you called, “Who is it?”

“Damn it, (Y/N), you know it’s us,” you heard Fili growl.

“It’s Kili! And Fili. May we come in?” Kili said through the door over his brother.

“Come in,” you called, stifling your laugh.

Again, they stumbled into the room. Their shenanigans were nothing new to you, and often you took part in them. The three of you had been friends since you were dwarflings and you could usually read their minds when they were up to something. But today, you weren’t sure of their plans.

“What’s got you two so riled up?” you asked, taking in their heaving chests and flushed faces. You guessed they had run to your chambers from the other side of the mountain.

“We came to get you. We’re going to the pub,” Fili said, leaning on the wall in front of you.

You placed your marker in your book and set it on the windowsill before standing up with a stuck out hip. “I think I’ll pass. Going to the pub with you two is never a good idea. I learned that lesson well last time.”

“We’ll behave,” Fili said.

Kili took your hand and pulled. “Please, (Y/N). This may be the last time it’s just the three of us.”

That had dawned on you before he actually said it. It had taken weeks, but Thorin had finally put the last arrangements of Kili’s marriage to plan. Tomorrow morning, a kind and beautiful princess from another kingdom would arrive in Erebor to marry Kili in a few days. You were excited and happy for him, but you knew things would have to change a bit.

You winced, thinking it over. You would have been kicked out of the pub last week if you weren’t with the royals of Erebor. Kili whined at your face.

“Please!” He hugged you tight, squeezing the air out of you and bending to push his face into the crook of your neck. “I’ll carry you on my back if it means you’ll come.” His words were muffled and contorted as he spoke into your skin.

You glared at Fili as he chuckled. Kili started pulling you toward the door.

“Fine, but I need to change,” you said.

“Nonsense, you look perfect,” Fili said. You stuck your tongue out at him.

“But I need to at least do something with my hair-”

Kili lifted from your neck. “Leave it down, I like it down.”

You rolled your eyes and then looked closer at Kili’s face. His skin was flushed and his eyes slower than usual. He giggled and lowered his forehead to your neck again. You looked to Fili with wide eyes. “He’s already drunk.”

“Yes,” Fili said.

“And we’re going to bring him to the pub for more ale?”

“Yes.”

You sucked in a lip. “Okay.”

Kili cheered and vaulted you up over his shoulder. He ran to the door before you could yell at him.

“Put. Me. Down. Now.”

He set you down immediately. “Sorry.”

***

You noticed mixed reactions when the three of you entered the pub. The bartender and illegally painted ladies welcomed the boys with open arms, knowing they would earn their gold tonight. The waitresses and some of the patrons, however, rolled their eyes or shook their heads, probably thinking about the trouble they had caused the week before.

You shied into Kili when Buck turned from the bar and grinned brightly at you. You should have known he’d be there. You knew he liked you but you weren’t sure how you felt about him. He was more forward than you would have liked him to be. So for now, you’d stay in the boys’ care.

The first round was easily chugged but you took your time with the second. The princes, however, were on their third very quickly. It didn’t take long for Fili’s attention to be pulled away from you and Kili. Maggie Vopper had hiked up her skirts and sat herself on his lap, twirling his mustache around her finger and giggling incessantly.

You rolled your eyes at one of her louder cackles and tried to pay attention to Kili. Most of the times you had asked him about his intended, he steered the conversation away from the marriage. Now, with Mahal knows how many beers in him, he chatted without reserve. You learned he was quite nervous about meeting her and especially about the wedding.

“You don’t need to fret, Kili. She’ll love you. I’m sure you’ll be very happy together. She seems so nice from her letters and Dain said she’s beautiful.”

“She is- she seems to be. But… I don’t know.”

“What?”

“Nnnnothin’,” he slurred.

You covered his hand with yours and smiled. “What? You can tell me.”

“What if I don’t love her? What if I love someone else? Then I’ll spend my whole life with the wrong person. I mean, I’ve always dreamed of living with… What-what if that happens?”

He was rambling now. “I don’t think you’ll regret this, Kili. I think you’re going to be really happy. I’m gonna go get something to eat for us, okay?”

He stumbled trying to stand. “I’ll go get it.”

“No, I’ll go. I wanted to say hello to Buck anyway.”

Kili wrinkled his nose. “He’s been staring at you.”

“No he hasn’t.”

You glanced to the bar. He was staring at you. Even from your brief look you could see his eyes were dark and his grin was wide. You almost shivered at the thought. But if you didn’t get Kili something to eat, you could imagine how sick he would be when he met his bride to be in the morning. Thorin would execute you. And Fili was no help in this matter, his tongue had been down Maggie Vopper’s throat for the last ten minutes. You took a deep breath and stood.

Kili grabbed at your hand. “Don’t go.”

“I’ll be right back.”

“I don’t like that guy. I don’t like the way he’s lookin’ at you.” He stood, cursing when he bumped his knee on the table. He was glaring at Buck with his hands heavy on your waist. “I don’t want you to go over there.”

“I’m just gonna get us some food-”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Well, I am. I’ll be right back. I can handle Buck.”

“(Y/N).”

You pushed his hair from his eyes. “Sit. I’ll be right over there, I’ll get your favorite. Stay here and make sure your brother doesn’t suffocate.”

You peeled his hands from you and walked to the bar, standing as far away from Buck as possible. But of course, as soon as you ordered Kili’s meat pies, his gruff voice was low in your ear.

“Took you long enough to come over and say hi.”

You turned, getting your ear away from his mouth. “Sorry, I was just-”

“With that prince again.”

You hummed and quickly changed the subject. “I heard your business is going well. The drop in price of… ore must be be-beneficial.” You were distracted by his gaze falling from your eyes to your lips to your chest and wished you had the chance to change your dress before you left the mountain. You spun away from him, watching the bartender go into the kitchen.

“Yes, it’s going very well-”

“That’s wonderful.”

“I could make you something.” He pushed your loose hair from your shoulder and again you were cursing Fili and Kili for whisking you away before you could braid it back. “Forge a necklace for ya. Or a holster for that pretty dagger of yours.” His fingers trailed up your skirt to your thigh and you jerked away, grabbing the food from the bartender and making your escape.

“Don’t think so. Thanks, though,” you called over your shoulder. You let out a held breath as you plopped the pies on the table and sat. “After you eat these we can go-” You looked up to Kili and swallowed your words.

He pulled his lips from the scantily dressed dam on his lap and looked at you. “No, thanks. I already have plans for the rest of the evening.” He stuck one of the pies in the dam’s mouth and bit off the other end. “This one won’t leave me when I ask her not to.” He took the other pie and stood, slapping the dam’s bottom as she led him upstairs.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. When you looked up, Fili was staring at you. “What?”

“You think we should let him do that?” he asked.

You shrugged. “He’ll treat her well, at least. Might be his last ever.”

He hummed and returned to Maggie Vopper’s neck.

You waved at the bartender for more pies and they were soon brought over to you. You gave one to Fili and the dam on his lap and picked at the crust of yours, your appetite gone. You knew Kili was only drunk and all would be forgiven and most likely forgotten in the morning. But you had never seen him speak so to anyone, especially you. You pushed the plate away and leaned on your fist, trying to decide if you should leave the pub now, or wait for Kili to come down.

As you stared at the staircase, another one of the working dams ran down them, flying straight through the bar to Fili. She whispered something in his ear. “Help? What do you mean help?” he asked.

You straightened. “What?”

“She says the dam with Kili needs help with him. We may have let him drink too much.”

“We?” you said.

He rolled his eyes. “(Y/N), please. I’m a little indisposed here,” he said, motioning to the dam on his lap.

You groaned and stood. “Unbelievable. The things I do for you. I swear to Mahal, if I get up there and he’s naked, I’m coming right back down here and sending you up.”

Fili waved at you from inside Maggie’s mouth.

You huffed and stomped upstairs. As you rounded the corner into the corridor, someone ran right into you, knocking the air from your lungs. When you straightened, you saw it was the dam Kili had brought upstairs.

“You’re the royal rescuer?” she asked.

“I thought I’d be rescuing you from him. Where is he?”

She turned and waved down the corridor. “Third room down. He’s a mess.”

“I’m sorry about that, his brother gave him too much to drink.”

“Not that,” she said, hoisting up her corset. “He’s cryin’!”

“Crying?”

“Cryin’! Moanin’! A blubbering mess about some dam he loves more than anythin’. (Y/N) or somethin’. I tried everything but he can’t stop cryin’ about her lovely hair, her tiny hands, her sweet smile. I do a lot of things, but I don’t do that.”

She huffed and slid down the stairs. Now that it was quiet, you could hear him. You leaned your ear against the door and heard sniffles and soft, broken sobs. If you didn’t know his voice so well, you would have refused to believe it was him.

The door creaked as you opened it, but he didn’t take notice of it. You thanked Mahal that his trousers were on, but didn’t rejoice for anything else. Seeing him lying on the bed with his face buried in a pillow was heartbreaking.

You whispered his name, sat on the bed and pushed his hair from his face. It was tear soaked and his eyes were red and puffy. You winced. “Kili, what is it?”

His breath hitched. “I couldn’t do it.”

“Oh,” you said. Fili should be here for this kind of conversation. “Well, doesn’t that happen sometimes? It’s okay, she didn’t care.”

He slapped the pillow hard and sat up. “Not that, (Y/N)! Mahal!”

You pushed his hair behind his ears and wiped the streaks of tears from his cheeks. “Then what is it?”

He pushed your hands away and looked at you. You could see his eyes were still sluggish with drink. “Why did you go with Buck?”

“I didn’t go with Buck. I hate Buck. I went to get you some food so you wouldn’t be sick when you meet your bride to be in the morning.”

“Oh, Mahal,” he groaned, slamming his head back against the wall.

“Is that what this is about? The arrangement?”

“No! Yes. It is but it’s also about- it’s about everything! Why is it all happening now? Tonight?” He slurred his way through, dumping every thought onto you.

You took his hands. “Kili, look at me. What’s all happening now?”

He forced his eyes to yours and sucked in a breath, shaking his head. His hair fell around his eyes and the words tumbled from his mouth. “I thought I could do it- I thought I could do all of this, but I can’t. When I saw you with Buck I thought I just needed- to be with someone else but I couldn’t do it. And now she’s coming tomorrow and I’m supposed to be with her but I can’t do it. You-you… I can’t do it.”

You brushed his hair from his eyes again, twisting it back and away. He leaned into your touch like you were the only thing keeping him upright. “I don’t understand. I thought you were excited about the marriage.”

“I tried to be excited. I tried because I’m the prince and I have to do certain things and this is one of those things but I can’t because it’s not with you. I can’t live my life without you.” His voice broke in his thick throat.

“I’m not going anywhere.” More tears streamed down his face and you felt your chest tighten.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too, you know that. You and Fili are my closest friends-”

“No, (Y/N).” He took your hands from his hair and held them. “I love you. I can’t marry anyone else because I love you.”

You started to shake. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, or the late hour, or your shock but your fingers trembled in his. “But it’s all- it’s arranged. She’s coming tomorrow. I thought you liked her. You never told me this.”

He pulled your hands into his lap. “How could I? For the longest time the biggest barrier was that I’d lose you, I’d lose my best friend. Then, Uncle made the arrangements so quickly and didn’t tell me about it and then it was too late.”

You stood, dragging your hands away. It is too late, you thought. “Fili… will know what to do. I shouldn’t have come up here, he’ll help you.” You backed away and headed for the door.

“Please don’t leave.”

You froze. His words were a harsh blow to your stomach. How could you leave when he asked you not to? But how could you stay?

“Please don’t leave. Please, just-just lay here with me. Tomorrow I’ll do what I have to but tonight… I need my best friend, (Y/N).”

His broken voice made you want to crumble to the floor. It was the worst sound you’d ever heard. You pushed your own tears down and walked back to him, lying next to him on the bed. You hovered above him for a moment and he ran his fingers through your hair.

“You left it down. I like it down.”

You sank to lie next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. It took a while for his breathing to normalize and you felt his chest shake a few times in the aftermath of his sobs. But soon it slowed and when you knew he was asleep, you snuck a glance to his face. You should have known it wouldn’t be enough.

You propped yourself up on your elbow and took in his peaceful features. His skin was still red and puffy and again, you pushed his hair from his eyes. Your fingers gently traced his cheek, jaw, and neck until they landed on his chest. You pushed the black curls absently, thinking about all he had said. Looking back, it made sense. You didn’t think the pressure or the beer made him lie, but you did think it gave him the courage to finally tell you.

You returned to his side, thinking about what was to be done now.

***

It was probably the commotion downstairs in the pub that woke you up the next morning. You sighed and rolled, blindly and subconsciously reaching for Kili. When all you could find was empty sheets, you buried your face in the pillow and growled. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“I’m right here.”

His voice startled you. You spun and lifted your head to look at him. He was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, fully dressed and fully awake. You suddenly felt very self-conscious, like you were missing a layer. You were.

At the foot of the bed was your outer corset. When you laid eyes on it, Kili said, “It was digging into you as you slept so I loosened it. You took it off but I don’t think you were fully awake.” He chuckled.

You stood, tucking your tunic into your skirt, and shrugged into the corset before lacing it up the front. “Thanks. Wearing this all night would have been a mistake.”

“I know it bothers your skin,” he said.

You glanced at him and felt yourself flush as he watched you. “We should get back. Your intended will be arriving soon.” You sent him a shallow smile.

“She’s not coming.”

Your fingers slipped from the laces. “What? What happened?”

He walked over and finished lacing your corset for you. “Last night happened.”

You watched his gentle fingers deftly weave and tie the strings. Then his hands were on your waist. “Kili. You didn’t have to- Just because… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right. It’s not anyone’s fault. I can’t marry her when I know I love someone else. It’s not fair to her.”

“Or you.”

“Or me.”

His hair fell in his eyes and you resisted the urge to fix it. “Kili, I-”

“You don’t have to say anything right now, you just woke up,” he chuckled. He reached for your cloaks and handed you yours. You stopped his hands before he slipped into his.

“Wait, don’t. I don’t want to leave yet,” you said, staring at your hands.

“You want to stay in the sleazy room of the pub?” He laughed at you and tossed the cloak back on the bed. “You like it here?”

“This is where you told me you loved me, so yeah, I like it here.”

He pulled your chin up and studied your face. When he saw the sincerity in your features, his softened. He pushed your loose hair, running his finger behind the shell of your ear. You knew you had to say more but the look on his face took your words away. You started to fix the ties on his vest for something to do, something else to look at as you focused your mind.

“I don’t really know what to say to you. I’ve been trying to think all night, but I just-”

“It’s all right, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to spring it all on you like this. I know you don’t feel the same way and that’s okay-”

“But I do feel the same way.” You tugged at the knot you had tied and wrapped the strings around your fingers in the silence. “I’ve always loved you more than I thought I should. I just- I didn’t know what it was until you said it first.”

“Look at me,” he said with a chuckle. You smirked, despite yourself, and sighed as you dropped the ties of his vest. You looked up to see a sweeter than cream, knee-weakening, heart-swelling smile and you felt your chest tighten. “Let me court you,” he said. “If you have any confusion or doubts-”

“I don’t.”

“Do you ever let me finish a sentence?”

“I let you finish that one.”

His head dropped as he laughed. He grabbed your hands and kissed your fingers. “Let me court you. Let me show you how much I love you.”

“What will your uncle say? I’m no princess, Kili.”

“You’re a princess to me.”

You rolled your eyes hard but before you could look to him, he was kissing you. His arms wrapped tight around you and pulled you to him as his hand cupped the back of your head. He released you only to mumble against your lips. “Do not roll your eyes at me.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

You shook your head and threw your arm around his shoulders, bringing him down for another kiss that sent your heart soaring. He held your waist so tightly, it brought you to you tip toes. Then you felt him laughing.

“What?”

He set you down. “Can we please get out of this room? I don’t even want to think of the kinds of activities that have been-”

You grabbed your cloak and pulled him out the door. “Please don’t even finish that thought.”

“As if you’d let me.”

When you reached the corridor, he pulled on your hips and spun you. He bent to kiss your lips and then led you down the stairs and out of the pub. “Next time I see Buck, I’m gonna kill him.”

“Forget about him. It’s just us now. And Fili.”

“And Fili,” he said, pulling your shoulders into him and kissing your forehead as you walked arm in arm back to the mountain.

New taglist! Message to join! @emrfangirl @misslongcep @raindancer2004 @ladybugg1235 @xxbyimm

Tagging those who may like this or those who voted for Kili in the last voting! Hope that’s okay! If not, just shoot me a message! <3 @deepestfirefun @alae-megallen @c-s-stars @theyoutubemaster @camoolla @sassydeputykidfarm @littlefool-smalljester @dashesofink @purringcatball

#kili #kili x reader #kili fluff #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fandom #the hobbit fic #lotr #lotr fandom #lotr fanfiction #lotr fic #lotr fanfic #fluff #aidan turner #aidan turner x reader

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kittinoir · 4 years

Text

Phantoms Ch. 1

Read on Ao3

“I know my actions in the past have hurt many of you. I understand forgiveness may be asking too much. All I’m asking for is a chance to prove to you, my beloved city, that I’ve made a change, and for the opportunity to regain your trust.”

Marinette bit her lip as Chloe Bourgeois’s voice on-screen was drowned out by the wave of reporters shouting questions, but Queen Bee seemed unphased by the crowd. Instead of panicking as Marinette would have done, she instead simply waved once, loosed her yo-yo, and left the press-conference. Only when her teammate was safely gone did Marinette release the breath she’d been holding.

“Say what you will about the girl, but she knows how to handle a crowd,” Alya said. She leaned back on Marinette’s chaise, lowering her phone to her lap as the video ended. Their completed homework lay scattered around them - the price for Miraculous-related new and Marinette’s tried-and-true study technique.

“She’s always had a tough shell,” Marinette said with a begrudging half-smile. “But I’m beginning to see it’s hiding a soft heart.”

Marinette had offered “Ladybug’s” support at that same conference, but Chloe had shot her down, saying her mistakes were hers alone, and she would win back the cities trust on her own merit, not Ladybug’s endorsement. Marinette hadn’t insisted - she didn’t know how to be friends with this girl, but she found she was beginning to like her a little more.

And of course, she owed her a debt she wasn’t sure she could ever repay: her memories after she’d given up the Miracle box in order to protect her partner.

And, incidentally, the love of her life.

The truth of Adrien’s identity still rocked through her even now, just over a week after rediscovering it. It wasn’t as though it shocked her whenever he made mention of things only Chat Noir would know; more so specific events jumped out at her, things she’d done with Chat Noir that she was continually realizing she’d actually done with Adrien.

But they hadn’t talked about any of it. Not yet at least anyway. Not what happened before, and especially not what happened during the time she’d given up being Ladybug. Chat Noir had always been so vocal about his feelings for Ladybug, but Adrien hadn’t said anything about them now that he knew it was her behind the mask. Part of her wanted to ask him about it, but the part of her that had always kept her from confessing to him in the first place was terrified of the answer - terrified that she’d done something unforgivable and irreparable in giving up the Miracle box and disappearing on him, no matter how good her intentions had been or how the wires had gotten crossed.

And so she was left to agonize over what had gone from a crush to full-blown love. She’d thought she’d had feelings before; they were nothing compared to the realization that her two favourite people in the world were actually the same person. It had been devastating in the best possible way - and the worst.

“I think Chat Noir and I are going to stop by on patrol tonight,” Marinette said, glancing at the clock. Her stomach flip-flopped in anticipation. “Check in on the new spokesmodel of our team, see how she’s doing.”

“Sure you don’t want Rena Rouge and Carapace along?” Alya asked. Her eyes practically glittered as she fingered the Miraculous around her neck.

“You know training doesn’t start until next week,” Marinette said with a grin. “Besides, you guys have Tuesday morning.” A usually quiet time when Hawkmoth was either busy or no one had gotten upset enough to be akumatized yet. “Give it a few weeks and you’ll be begging to give that back to me.”

“As if, girl,” Alya laughed, slipping her phone into her bag. “You’re stuck with me.”

“I think I’ll manage,” Marinette teased, but her giggle faded as she finally broached the subject of the Ladyblog. “Al, are you sure you’re ok running interference for the team? I know how important your journalistic integrity is to you.”

But Alya firmly nodded. “Absolutely. I think you were right about how not knowing each others’ identities is risker than knowing them, but the less the public knows, the safer we’ll all be. I have a special ready to go for 8pm speculating about the new team members and a follow up tomorrow night of yet another round of Chat Noir specs. Adrien actually hasn’t been mentioned this time.”

Alarm bells went off in Marinette’s head. “But he has before?”

Another nod. “I thought it was crazy at the time, but he’s a bit of a celebrity, so I wasn’t totally surprised. Knowing him personally, I never would have thought it was him.”

“That’s…I guess I bit of a relief,” Marinette said, laying a hand over her pounding heart. “And…me…?”

“Not even once, girl,” Alya said. “Like I said, Adrien’s a celebrity who shares a few traits with the hero; I’m pretty sure some fan girls wanted it to be him more than they actually believed it was him. After all, who wouldn’t want to get rescued by a handsome teen model?”

“Yeah,” Marinette sighed, a blush creeping over her cheeks. “I mean no! I mean he’s…he’s just Chat Noir.”

Alya quirked an eyebrow and smirked. “So you’re over him then?”

“I…” Marientte trailed off, unable to even begin to organize her thoughts. How could she explain that the boy she thought she’d been in love with had turned out to be more selfless, sweet, funny, and brave than she’d ever imagined he could be? That she didn’t think she’d ever get over him, ever. That if soulmates really did exist, that he was hers - and that she lay awake at night in fear of a future she thought she’d averted. “No,” she said simply. “No, I’m not over him.”

“Then what are you waiting for, girl?” Alya demanded with a grin. “Everyone knows Chat Noir’s in love with Ladybug - which means Adrien’s in love with <em>you</em>! Why haven’t you gotten your guy?”

“Lots of reasons,” Marinette said with her best attempt at a smile and an eye roll. She couldn’t tell anyone about the horrific future she’d seen, not ever, for risk of altering their path agaiin; instead she gave her friend a version of the truth - one of the many reasons she hadn’t pursued her crush. ��I might be Ladybug, but I’m also still Marinette. I still can’t think straight around him.”

Ok, that was a total lie. Talking to Adrien had been easy for some time now, even before she knew who he was - or…no. Her memories jumbled and rearranged themselves, the old mixing back in with the new, until she realized it wasn’t until after she’d discovered Adrien was Chat Noir the first time that she’d been comfortable around him. Apparently memories came and went but the heart was less easily convinced than the mind.

“Marinette? Before you take off to meet up with your dream guy, I…I kind of also wanted to apologize,” Alya said abruptly, bringing Marinette back to the present. “I’ve been thinking about it for some time now, and I didn’t know really how to bring it up, but it’s silly to keep waiting for the right moment. I’m sorry about Lila.”

Marinette stiffened at the girl’s name. “What…what about her?”

“When you went berserk about her lying, I thought it was just about Adrien,” Alya said. “I realized that first night, after the rooftop meeting, that the reason you were so upset was because she’d dragged Ladybug into it as well. You never used Ladybug to get to Adrien; I can see why you’d be upset someone else did.”

The whole truth pushed at Marinette’s lips, desperate to finally get out - that Lila wasn’t just a liar, but that she’d threatened to take everything and everyone from her by the end of the school year.

But Adrien’s advice still echoed in her mind: <em> “As long as we both know the truth, does it really matter?”</em> Well, now everyone knew the truth. They might not put it together as quickly as Alya had, but the next time they saw Lila or she mentioned her best friend, Ladybug, it would be the nail in her own coffin. Marinette almost felt bad for her.

But only almost.

“I’m sorry she gave you fake stories for the blog,” Marinette offered instead, but Alya waved her off.

“That’s my own fault. I could have waited to double check with ‘Ladybug’ before posting them. It was a tough lesson to learn, but I guess every journalist has to learn it eventually. I’m more sorry I didn’t believe my best friend.”

This time Marinette’s smile was genuine. “I couldn’t really offer you much in the way of proof at the time. What matters is that you stood by me, even when you thought I was being unfair.”

“And you stood by me when I made a mistake about Lila,” Alya said, but guilt still flickered in her eyes.

So Marinette borrowed a trick from the very girl they were discussing and told Alya what she needed to hear - except she actually meant it. “You were the new girl this year, too. I understand why you gave her the benefit of the doubt. Being the new girl is hard. So…friends?”

“Best friends,” Alya said, the guilt finally replaced with a familiar mischievous glint. “Any chance Ladybug would like to give a statement to the Ladyblogger about her feelings on those particular stories?”

Marinette understood what her friend was offering: a platform to defend name with, and a chance to set her own boundaries where Lila’s stories were concerned - an action to back up her apology. Tikki actually looked over from where she and Trixx had been playing on her desk, her face a careful mask of simple curiosity, even if Marinette could almost hear the kwami’s voice in her head nudging her towards the high road.

But it was Adrien’s voice that came back to her, and she suddenly understood his advice in an entirely new light. Did it really matter? Not when Hawkmoth was still out there, still taking advantage of every negative emotion that flitted across his radar. Not when confronting Lila had already resulted in half a dozen akumatizations, including Marinette’s own first brush with one of the corrupt butterflies. It really felt like there was no winning, but there was one clear distinction: with Lila’s stories, people rarely got akumatized - but if she confronted her, especially as Ladybug, the chances of it happening would shoot up.

And more than that…Marinette was finding it hard to care anymore. Even when she hadn’t known Adrien was her partner, her Chat Noir, he had still ended up siding with her against the world. It was enough.

Which was why Marinette said, “As long as we know the truth, it doesn’t matter.” She smiled as she shared Adrien’s advice and was relieved when, for once, a blush didn’t give her away.

“Very cool, Marinette,” Alya said. “No wonder you were picked to be Ladybug. Girl, sometimes I still can’t believe it. Next time you have to tell me what happened when your dad got akumatized. It was like something out of a fairytale!” Alya winced. “But if you don’t get a move on, you’re going to be late for your patrol.”

“I’m always late,” Marinette teased, but she stood as she caught sight of the time. The truth was, for the first time in her life, she’d intentionally given herself as little time as possible in the hopes she’d have less time to obsess over the next few hours - and yet some small part of her brain seemed entirely devoted to only that no matter what she was doing. “You’re ok to go out on your own?”

“Go save the city, girl,” Alya said, shooing her friend towards her skylight as Trixx swirled into her bag. “And beep me if an akuma shows up. I girl has to maintain her identity, you know.”

“I’ve heard it can be a challenge,” Marinette laughed as her friend made for the door, savouring the ease of the moment, the freedom of not having to lie to her best friend anymore.

“Oh, if only you knew, dah-ling!” Alya threw her a wink and disappeared, but Marinette could hear her laughter as she descended the stairs. She lingered in the moment a little longer as she called on her transformation, but she she made her way to the balcony, waving one last time to her friend in the street below, there was no more avoiding what she was about to do.

It was time to meet up with the boy she loved - and to hope, for the first time, that he didn’t love her back.

#phantoms #echoes of you sequel

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spork-guitar · 4 years

Text

Lucky Lady Chapter 15

@sapphicsovereign @gingerdaile @catsssmeow

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Original prompt by @gale-of-the-nomads

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, and 14.

Hi. I think you can probably guess what this is - an apology, another excuse for not posting in weeks. With everything that’s happening in the world and in my personal life, I just had to take some time off for my own mental health. I won’t bore you with the details, but I haven’t written a word since early June. Some days I couldn’t get out of bed for hours, some days I considered giving up writing for good. I'm going to continue, but if I had any semblance of a posting schedule before, I definitely don’t anymore. I’m sorry for the few of you that still read this. I know it’s frustrating to be invested in a story and have it go unfinished for a long time, believe me. But as of now, I still plan to finish this fic. It may take a while, but I’d like to believe things are looking up for me. My apologies, again. Thank you for being patient.

That being said, this chapter is (hopefully) less depressing than that. This is an example of a chapter that was never part of the plan but happened anyway, which is about 80% of my content in any given story. Oh, and I threw in an OC... and gave him a backstory... and it’s about twice as long as any other chapter so far... and I swear none of that was supposed to happen, but... enjoy?

Adrien adjusted his tie for the nth time, only to have his hand swatted away by the meticulous designer who had spent months working on a unique suit just for him. It was silly, really, because no matter how much hard work and effort the man put into the ensemble, it just looked and felt like every other suit he’d worn before. The only difference he could see was the price tag. Sure, he knew from a fashion standpoint what the benefits were of certain pocket styles and fabric choices, but other than that, it was just a suit.

He had heard about brides-to-be suddenly “feeling like a bride” when they tried on the right dress, but he supposed they were already excited about the prospect of getting married, having found the person they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with. Adrien couldn’t relate. At this point, he knew he was wearing his wedding suit. It was what he would wear the day he married Lila. He would smile and tell her how beautiful she looked, because there would be cameras filming his every move. He would be the perfect husband, the perfect son, the perfect model, etc., etc. Every second he spent with her in public for the rest of his life would be perfectly scripted and planned out to make them look like the perfect couple, but something about that made him dread getting married even more.

Adrien frowned at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was combed, suit clean, tie straight, shoes shined, and he felt less like himself than he had in ages. He knew the person looking back at him in the glass, but it wasn’t him. It wasn’t right.

He rolled his shoulders and tugged at the collar of his dress shirt, effectively loosening his tie and earning him an exasperated sigh from the man in front of him.

“Ay, M. Agreste, please. If you don’t stand still, we’ll never finish in time, and I have another customer coming in half an hour!” A thick Italian accent made his French harder to understand, but Adrien got the message.

“Sorry, M. Bertinelli,” he half-mumbled.

The stout man raked his fingers through his thin gray hair. “Alphonso. We’ve been through this. M. Bertinelli was my father, God rest his soul.”

“Wasn’t his name also Alphonso?”

“Si, si. But to me, he was papà. At work, he was M. Bertinelli. The only person who ever called him Alphonso was mia madre, Lucia. The angels took her too soon.” He bowed his head, eyes downcast.

Adrien tugged at the collar of his suit uncomfortably… again. “I, uh… I know a little about that.”

Alphonso regarded him with a kind smile, picking a piece of lint off his lapel. “You would, wouldn’t you? How long has it been? Ten years?”

He scratched his neck, looking away from the man’s persistent gaze. “Yeah, almost.”

Someone just beyond the fitting room knocked softly on the door, and it creaked open hesitantly after a second. “Are you decent?”

Ladybug. Adrien smiled. “Yeah, come on in.” She stepped into the room and waved shyly at M. Bertinelli. Her gaze turned to him, eyes widened and cheeks flush. She looked him up and down, as if trying to memorize every little detail of his pricey ensemble. By the time her eyes met his again, he was sure his face was every bit as red as hers.

Suddenly, as if remembering why she came into the room in the first place, Ladybug stared intensely at her tablet and cleared her throat. “Uh, I don’t want to bother you, monsieur. I’ll only be a minute. You have a fencing lesson with M. D'argencourt at his private court in...” She paused, scrolling through the day’s schedule. “...thirty minutes, so we should be leaving within the hour.”

Adrien was pretty sure her openly gaping at him for multiple seconds had effectively cleared his mind of any coherent thought other than a long string of exclamation points, but M. Bertinelli had him covered. “Not to worry, bella. I’ll have him out of here in plenty of time.” With a hand on her shoulder, he led her back out the door. “I’ll call you when we’re finished.” Once she was out of earshot, he chuckled, waggling a suit brush at him. “You like her,” he said matter-of-factly.

“What?”

“Oh, don’t pretend with me, ragazzo. I can see it a mile away. The way you smiled when she walked in the room, how you blushed when she looked at you.” He lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned in. “You’re not exactly subtle, ragazzo, and neither is she.” Adrien felt his face heat again as Alphonso laughed merrily. “Besides, I’ve been in love before.”

Adrien shrugged off his suit jacket and loosened his tie, draping them carefully over the back of a chair. “How do you know it’s love? I haven’t known her very long. It could just be… I don’t know, something else? Love is a strong word to use.”

Alphonso shook his head insistently, setting the brush on the vanity counter. “It’s just like it was with my late wife, Rosa Maria. When I met her, she was with my old friend Claudio, who treated her poorly. A shame, really. Rosa was the sweetest woman I ever knew, and Claudio? Well, he was something else. I thought I’d live my whole life in love with a woman I’d never have, but love is a funny thing, ragazzo. I had just about given up when she up and left him one day. Came knocking at my door, telling me she loved me all along. Of course, Claudio didn’t like that very much, but it worked out for me and my Rosa. It will work out for you, too.”

“You think so?”

“Of course! You don’t live to be fifty-seven without learning a few things about life. Now, get out of that suit before you wrinkle it.”

“Don’t you have to alter it?”

“It fits you like a glove, ragazzo. I knew it would.” He took the discarded jacket from the chair and put it on a mannequin across the room. “You know, that might be a good analogy. The right girl will fit like a good suit - comfortable, nice-looking, and affordable as long as you’ve got a rich padre.”

“What should I do about Ladybug?”

Alphonso shrugged. “Whatever needs to be done. Don’t worry yourself too much, anyway. Things have a way of working themselves out, and you’re a pretty smart kid. But if you want some advice from a man who’s been put through the ringer a few times, I think you should tell her how you feel before it’s too late.”

Adrien frowned. “It might already be too late. My wedding is in eighteen days, and everything’s ready. I can’t back out now.”

“Well, if you go through with it, that’s fine. Your wife better be over the moon. She’s got herself the handsomest boy in Paris.”

“Thanks, Alphonso.”

He patted Adrien on the cheek and ruffled his hair with a fond smile. “Ah, get outta here. But if you never need a listening ear, I’ve got two of ‘em, and I can always pretend your suit doesn’t fit quite right so you can come back. I sure wouldn’t mind the company.”

Adrien laughed politely, not sure if he meant it, but secretly wishing he did. Alphonso treated him like family, like the son he never had, and he acted more like a father than Gabriel ever had. “You know what? I’ll let you know.”

“See you around, Adrien.”

…

Ladybug stood up as he walked back into the waiting room, clasping her hands behind her back. “All done?”

He rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. “Yep. Let’s get out of here.” She snickered, quickly clapping a hand over her mouth to sober herself. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just… your hair is a mess. It must have happened when you changed back, because it looked fine when I was in there earlier.”

Adrien ran a hand through his hair and swooped it to the side. “Better?”

“Mostly. There’s a little part…” She pointed to the left side of her head, and he patted down the right side, mirroring her. “No, the other side.” He followed her instructions, but to no avail. She clicked her tongue, reaching out. “May I?”

He kept his voice steady (he hoped) and his expression neutral. “Of course.” With gentle fingers, she quickly found the problematic tuft of hair and combed her fingers through it a few times to tame it down. When she was done, she brushed a few strands out of his face, nails gently scraping his forehead and over to his ear.

Satisfied, she smiled, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil, and patted him on the head like a dog. Maybe a cat. “All good! Let’s go.”

Well, that was just plain unfair. The way she could touch him like it was nothing, like the world around them didn’t just cease to exist when she smiled at him. Truthfully, Adrien was touch starved, and he knew it. It had been years since the last time he willingly hugged someone, so he was automatically hyper aware of every time Ladybug casually touched him. Every electric brush of their fingertips when she handed him his schedule, every playful smack when he made a bad joke, every time she got close enough that he could feel her breath teasing his skin like a light summer breeze.

He futilely tried to console himself with the thought that she would still be his bodyguard after the wedding, but if anything, that made it worse. He would spend years, perhaps the rest of his life knowing she was off limits. Right there, a few houses, a room, a meter away, but he couldn’t have her.

But how, he wondered, do you simply coexist with someone who doesn’t know how every tiny little thing she does turns his whole world upside down? He knew he was unlucky, but even for the Powers That Be, that seemed a little excessive.

#bodyguard!mari #miraculous ladybug #ml au #ml fic #gale-of-the-nomads

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yootaesowlwrites · 4 years

Text

Requested By: loontje2006

Request: Hi, can I have 80 or 147 and 162 with Callum pls? Thank you xx♡

Prompts: A80- “I Couldn’t Save Them! I Couldn’t Save Them!” & A147- “So The Baby, It’s Yours?” & A162- “I Will Move The Sea And The Sky To Ensure Their/Her/Your/His Safety.”

A/N: I used all of them, and I am so sorry, there isn’t a happy ending, and let me tell you, I might have had a headache while planning this, but I made myself almost tear up in the end, oh and this kinda became an AU, I hope you don’t mind, and I think I got the medical facts right, I googled and read a book, but if it's not... sorry.

Warnings: ANGST ENDING!

Word Count: 2.1K

【 • Primary Masterlist • Drivers Masterlist • Callum Ilott Masterlist • Fan Fiction Masterlist • 】

【 • Prompt List • Smut Prompt List • Scenario Prompt List • Alternate Universe Prompt List • 】

【 • List Of Characters & Drivers I Write For • Rules & Request • 】

In the world of hitmen and assassins, you have to keep your private life hidden that way your enemies won’t have anything to use against you, but it was your choice… a lesson Callum had learned the hard way, he was still young but he was a brilliant hitman, and when he met (Y/n) her child he wanted out of the business, he wanted to be sure that their lives would never be in danger, but he was given one final task, a final task that ending up taking (Y/n) and her child from his grasp.

Callum’s unblinking mournful eyes stared ahead of him, he was numb, his mind replayed the scene over and over, trying to see or figure out if he would have ever been on time to save them, it took days before it finally sunk in, he would have never been on time, her child would still be dead and she would still not have survived, he picked up a glass of water and took a sip, he wanted to stay sober, he didn’t want to become drunk and numb his mind, he wanted to remember her, he could still remember the first day they met, the day he was given his last assignment and the last day he saw them.

Callum enters the toy store, his friend had sent him to come and buy a toy for his child because he was too busy with some paperwork, he was given a picture of how the toy looked like and was sent on his way, as he walks past the aisles looking for down them hoping that he would spot the toy, but instead, he saw a woman with a small child next to her.

“Is it that the one you want?” (Y/n) asks, Callum could see the playful smile on her lips as she looked down at the kid.

“Yes.” The kid beamed up at the woman.

“All right, but are you sure?” (Y/n) asks, the child giggles nodding his head.

“Yes, I am,” Damien says, Callum walks down the isle going towards them, (Y/n) quickly noticed him approaching them, being unsure of his intentions she pulled Damien closer to her.

“Oh, no, no, I’m not going to…” Callum trails off, (Y/n) nods her head, still unsure if she should trust him or not. “I, uh, I’m looking for a toy.”

“Well, you’re in the correct store, if you thought you were lost for a moment.” (Y/n) says, Callum chuckles and (Y/n) faintly smiles.

“Uh, right,” Callum says, he reaches into his jacket's pocket and takes out a folded piece of paper, he unfolds it and shows it to (Y/n). “Uh, this, I’m looking for this.”

“Oh, that’s all the way at the bottom of this isle.” (Y/n) says. “We saw it as we entered it.” Callum gives her a thankful smile and his eyes fall down to her child. “So, uh, what’s your child like?” Callum looks back up at (Y/n), his brows furrowed.

“What?” Callum says.

“Well, I assume you're there buying that toy for your kid?” (Y/n) asks, she assumed, but she might have been wrong.

“Oh, no, no, um, a friend of mine couldn’t come in, and he had asked me to come and buy it for them,” Callum says, (Y/n) could feel her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“Oh, I uh, I’m so sorry, I just kind of assumed…” (Y/n) says.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Callum says, he looks down at the child clinging to her hand. “So the baby, it’s yours?” (Y/n) softly chuckles

“Does he look like a baby?” (Y/n) asks. “I mean, he’ll always be my baby, but still.” Callum chuckles.

“Child, haha, right sorry, uh is he yours?” Callum asks, (Y/n) nods her head.

“Yeah.” (Y/n) says. “I uh was pretty young when I had him.”

“You guys must be one happy little family then,” Callum says, he envied them, he wished that his life was normal, but unfortunately it wasn’t.

“It’s just the two of us, his uh father, well, let’s just say he’s an a-hole.” (Y/n) says, Callum nods his head understating what she meant.

“Well, uh, thank you for your help,” Callum says.

“No problem.” (Y/n) says.

“But, uh, hey, do you maybe want to go for lunch sometime?” Callum asks, (Y/n) gives him a soft smile.

“That’ll be nice.” (Y/n) says. “When would be an okay time for you?”

“Tomorrow? At the starlight diner?” Callum asks, (Y/n) nods her head.

“I’ll see you here, at 12?” (Y/n) asks.

“At 12,” Callum says, (Y/n) walks past him with Damien, he turns around. “Wait.” (Y/n) stops and turns around to look at him. “Can I have your number?”

“We’ll see how you do tomorrow at 12.” (Y/n) says.

Only a memory now, but her smile was imprinted in his mind like a tattoo, that was what caught his attention about her, that became his favourite part of her, just seeing her smile and being happy, after that day, months quickly passed, and Callum had asked her to be his girlfriend, and took on the responsibility to care for her child, Damien, was his name as he had come to learn, both of them quickly became his world, and he wanted to leave the hitman business, he wanted out, and he was granted an exit, but it came with a price.

One last hit on several targets and he was allowed to have help, if he would be successful at his task he would be allowed to leave the business and be with (Y/n) without needing to look over his shoulder all the time, she had no idea what he was and he tried his best to hide that side from her, she was too pure for him.

Callum laid on a rooftop aiming his sniper rifle at one of the big names he had to take out, his friend, Keith, joined him as they watched the enemy.

“You really love them, don’t you?” Keith asks.

“I do,” Callum says, he looks at his friend. “They’re my world, and I will move the sea and the sky to ensure their safety.”

“Is that why you want out? Are they the reason?” Keith asks.

“Yes,” Callum says. “I can’t risk them getting hurt because of this business.”

“All right, so is that the only target or are there more?” Keith asks.

“There’s more, and we have to take them all out.”

If only they had worked faster, maybe word wouldn’t have gotten out that he was on his last job and taking out certain people, names had unfortunately also gotten out and that was when everything went wrong, he never saw it coming, but when he received the message that his last target had kidnapped (Y/n) and Damien, he was fuming, a location was sent to him and he was warned to come alone otherwise, they would die, unknown to him, Damien was already dead, and (Y/n) was being tortured, the place was surrounded when he arrived, he fought tooth and nail to get inside.

Once inside he was surrounded by men wanting him dead, but the only thing that kept him going was getting to (Y/n), he got closer to the room where she was being kept, but he was running out of bullet’s, the once possible task became almost impossible now.

Callum slams a guard up against the wall and slams their hand against the wall, the guard drops his weapon and Callum slams the guard’s head into the wall, knocking him out, Callum releases him letting him slide down to the floor and picked up the guard’s weapon, he shoots the guard making sure he wouldn’t become a problem, he looked at the closed door in front of him, (Y/n) was behind it, he opens the door and steps inside and saw his last target standing behind (Y/n), it was a heart-clenching sight for him, (Y/n)’s face was covered in dirt, sweat, tears and blood, and a couple of feet behind her laid Damien, already dead.

“I see you made it,” Adam says. “But sadly not on time.” Callum lifts his weapon, aiming it at Adam.

“You’re fucking dead,” Callum says, glaring at the man, Adam pulls (Y/n) to her feet and used her as a shield, wrapping his hand around her mouth limiting her breathing, Callum could see her right thigh was bleeding where a knife had been driven through her skin to torture her. “Let her go, this is between you and me.”

“And why would I let her go? She’s currently keeping me alive.” Adam says, (Y/n) was already tired, but she needed to give Callum an opening, she used her last bit of strength and bites the man’s palm, Adam releases in shock and pain, she falls to the floor unable to stand on her own, Callum took the opportunity and shot Adam between the eyes, he fell dead to the floor behind her, Callum lowers his weapon and rushes towards (Y/n) as she coughed struggling to breathe.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)?” Callum says, her breathing was short and he knew something was wrong, he kneels down next to her as she looks up at him. “It’s going to be all right, I’m going to get you help.” She needed medical attention, her thigh was bleeding heavily and it was that she had bled from her nose, it was clear that she was punched in the face several times, he carefully picks her up and begins exiting the building, he was taking a risk by picking her up, but he had to get her out of there and to the nearest hospital.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me what you were?” (Y/n) asks, her voice weak and above a whisper.

“I didn’t want to put you in any danger,” Callum says, they exit the building. “But I failed, I should’ve known this would happen.” (Y/n) lays her head on his shoulder feeling tired.

“They killed Damien in front of me.” (Y/n) says, he could barely hear her voice. “They had injured him before putting a bag over his head.” She coughed tasting the metallic taste of her blood. “What time is it?” It was clear to her, her brain was most likely swollen or starting to swell, but she tasted her own blood, it just confirmed that there was more damage inside her.

“The sun should be rising soon, I’m taking you to the nearest hospital,” Callum says, she could hear the concern in his voice, he tried not to show it, but it was there.

“I’m not going to make it Cal…” (Y/n) whispers.

“Stop,” Callum says. “You’re going to make it, you’re going to be all right.”

“I’m tired… stop, so we can watch the sunrise one last time.” (Y/n) whispers.

“No, no, I need to get you to the hospital,” Callum says.

“Please, Cal… one last time.” (Y/n) whispers. “It’s already too late.” He wanted to argue, but he had seen the signs, she was bleeding internally, but he was hoping that she was bleeding slowly, but she was right, it was too late, the hospital was too far away and the ambulances refused to pick people up in the neighbourhood they were in during the night, even if it was almost morning, they never knew when it was a real emergency or somebody trying to hijack them.

“All right… All right.” Callum says. “One last time.” He wanted to cry, but he stayed strong for her, for the both of them, it might not have been the most beautiful place they were in, but they had an okay view as the sun started to rise.

“It’s beautiful.” (Y/n) whispers, Callum barely heard her say it, he didn’t reply knowing he would break if he did, he could hear her breathing become shallow. “Hey, look at me.” Callum turns his head, their faces inches away from each other. “I love you, okay?” Callum could feel tears threatening to spill from his eyes, this wasn’t how he imagined their last moment would be.

“I love you too,” Callum whispers. “So so much.” He leans his forehead against hers, she tried to keep her eyes open but the moment was unavoidable, the second her eyes fell closed it was over, her breathing stopped and Callum fell to his knees leaning back as tears roll down his face, he had lost her, she was gone, Keith pulled up next to him and climbed out of the car as Callum laid her down on the floor. “I was too late.” Keith had never seen his friend cry, not once. “I COULDN’T SAVE THEM! I COULDN’T SAVE THEM!”

The memory haunted him, and would haunt him for the rest of his life, he was different, his fellow hitmen and assassins could see it, he was colder and ruthless as he used killing to numb his pain to numb the painful memories, he knew there was nothing he could do to bring them back, but he had nothing else, they were his world and he couldn’t save them.

#imagine #imagines #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 fan fiction #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fan fic #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #formula two imagine #Formula two imagines #formula 1 imagine #callum ilott imagine #callum ilott imagines #f2 imagine #f2 imagines

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give-me-back-my-rhodey · 4 years

Text

The Stars Reflect Our Love - AUgust Day 30

Title: The Stars Reflect our Love Author: Purple_ducky00 Warnings: N/A Square Filled: Y2: Forbidden Love for @ladiesofmarvelbingo Pair: Nakia/T'Challa Link: Read on AO3 Summary: Nakia is the mage for King T’Chaka of Wakanda. She falls in love with his son, but their love is forbidden.

+++++++++

Nakia is the mage for King T’Chaka of Wakanda. Her mother sold her to the coven when she was a baby, and she became a mage at such a young age. Now, at 18, she has her first job. As mage to the king, she is in close contact with the royal family.

King T’Chaka is truly kind. Nakia has heard rumors from other mages about how their king treated them, but Nakia knows she has nothing to worry about. Queen Ramonda is a treasure. She takes Nakia in under her wing as if Nakia were her own daughter. Princess Shuri, at age 5, is already taking apart machines and putting them back together. The royal technician, N’Yonte, gives her little projects to work on, telling the king and queen that she will surpass him quite quickly.

The prince heir, T’Challa, is seventeen. He shows a special interest in her, and she thinks it’s because he’s going through puberty and found a pretty female onto whom he could latch. He watches her closely with wide eyes. One time he calls to her in the hallway. Nakia knows she must answer him, but she is afraid of what he might say.

“Nakia.” He calls.

She stops in her tracks, steels herself, and asks, “Yes, Your Highness?”

“Do you think you could teach me?” He queries. When she gives him a questioning look, he hurriedly continues. “Magic, that is. Could you teach me how to do magic?”

“You are a prince. What would you need magic for?” She wonders.

T’Challa shrugs. “I’m not sure… but you make it look so amazing. I wish I could do what you do.”

“Magic does not come without a price,” Nakia warns him. “No one is ever sure what the price is for them. I will not agree to help you with this until you have fully thought this through and discussed with the correct persons.”

The young prince tries to argue, saying that he can pay any price. Nakia reiterates that she will not help him until he follows her previous instructions. He leaves in a huff. The mage shrugs. She cannot be bothered by spoiled princes and their fickle wants.

King T’Chaka commends her the next day for her unyielding stance. “My son does not know what he wants, nor does he understand the risks of learning magic. Thank you for not just agreeing to help him.” The queen nods, and Nakia knows she made the right choice.

She is surprised, however, when T’Challa apologizes to her before the week ends. “I’m sorry Nakia. I was stupid and arrogant, thinking I might know more about this than you. You clearly are the expert. Could you forgive me?”

“Of course, I can forgive you… as long as you have learned your lesson.” T’Challa swears he has. They stand there awkwardly for a few minutes, then the prince asks if they can be friends again, to which Nakia agrees.

As time passes, Nakia and T’Challa become fast friends. T’Challa turns eighteen, and the king and queen want him to look for a spouse. They bring in candidate after candidate, but T’Challa thinks it is too soon. He rants to Nakia about each person that his parents send in. “They’re not terrible, but I don’t want to get married! I want to be able to live my life a little longer before I have to worry about wives and children. Why can’t my parents understand that?”

Nakia herself agrees with him and understands his reasoning; however, it’s her job to defend the king and queen. “they probably just want to make sure the kingdom is secure, forbid anything happens to them.”

“I’d be fine.” T’Challa sulks. “I’d have you.”

One of the Doras comes to get the prince as his parents have called for them, and Nakia mulls over his words. What does he mean “I’d have you”? She knows he probably just means that she’ll be his mage as well, but she can’t help thinking that he meant more. Damn her feelings. She doesn’t need them… right? Does she want more from him? Nakia knows she needs to stop thinking about this.

She overhears an argument between T’Challa and his parents a few weeks later. He had asked them to stop sending in candidates for a spouse. “It’s not fair to me or the candidates.” T’Challa argues. “I’m not ready for this yet, and you’re giving them false hope.”

Queen Ramonda speaks. “What if something happened to your father and I, and you took the throne? A good king always talks with his partner when things get too hard.”

“But Nakia will be here. She knows the kingdom like the back of her hand.” Comes T’Challa’s reply.

The king’s voice thunders. “You will by no means at all marry the mage. Or come onto her at all. She is our servant, for one. She may feel obligated to be with you. Secondly, she is not of royal blood or a citizen of Wakanda. How does that look to your subjects? To be a king fueled by lust? No, I will not have it.”

“Baba, I did not mean it that way. We are only good friends.” T’Challa tries to placate his father. Nakia’s heart sinks. She does not know why. “I had only meant that she would be a chief advisor.”

T’Chaka seems to relax. He tells his son that he would prefer to T’Challa to marry young as he did, but he will respect his decision. T’Challa thanks him and asks that the courting candidates stop for the time being. The king and queen agree. He thanks them happily.

That night, Nakia cannot sleep. She often has trouble sleeping when many things plague her. As usual, the mage ends up on the roof of the palace. There are no guards up here, and she feels one with the sky. A sound startles her, and she readies herself with a knife. She lowers it when she realizes that it’s T’Challa who has joined her on the roof.

She smiles at him, and they sit in a comfortable silence for a while. The prince speaks first. “I got my parents to stop trying to marry me off for the time being.”

“That’s great! Did they give you the reasons I did?”

“Yes, and I told them that I had you. My father had a strange reaction to that, however.”

Nakia raises an eyebrow to look unbothered, but inside her heart is pounding. “Oh? What happened?”

“He told me that I was not able to marry you. First, you are our servant and might feel obligated to say yes. Second, you are not royal or a citizen of Wakanda, which apparently means I cannot control my own lust, which is why I went after you in the first place.” T’Challa scoffs. “Can you believe that?”

“Well, he probably has both our best interests at heart.” Nakia isn’t sure where T’Challa is going with this. Is he trying to hammer home the fact that he is not interested? Has Nakia been acting like a lovesick fool?

T’Challa takes her hand. “Nakia, if I told you I loved you, would you feel obligated to say you love me back? Are you afraid that I will do away with you if you say no?”

“I… I trust you.” Nakia replies. “I trust that you are not too petty a man to cause a stir because you were rejected.”

She is thrown for a loop when the next thing he says is “Nakia, I love you.”

“T’Challa, I-I I really like you, too…” She begins, and T’Challa sighs happily and pulls her in for a kiss. Unable to stop herself, she deepens the kiss. T’Challa moans and pulls her down to lie on the roof. Nakia looks up and the night sky, and it seems as if the stars are closer to them than before. Does this mean the ancestors agree?

Quickly, she pulls back. “You didn’t let me finish. I like you, too, but we are forbidden. Your father has spoken.”

“Why can’t I choose who I marry? I love you.” T’Challa frowns.

Nakia shakes her head. “You will get over me all too easily. We cannot do this.”

T’Challa relents. They stay lying on the roof, looking at the stars, talking about anything other than love until the sun rises the next morning. T’Challa sneaks down first, and Nakia comes down an hour later, as the Doras are used to her sleeping on the roof.

Life goes on normally for Wakanda. Nakia does her job. She and T’Challa often spend time together, even if things are a bit more awkward between each other. King T’Chaka asks her for advice on the prince. He tells her that he thinks the prince is in love with someone already, and he doesn’t understand why the prince doesn’t act on it. The king doesn’t know why the prince isn’t ready for marriage. He asks for any insight that Nakia might have.

“At what age did you become king, Your Majesty?” Nakia wonders.

“I was eighteen, like T’Challa today. My father was killed in battle, and I needed to step up. Thankfully, I loved Ramonda, and we were ready to marry.”

Nakia hums. “But you married due to necessity. Wakanda is now peaceful, and you are in perfect health. T’Challa does not feel the need to marry quickly because he is sure that you have many years left. I do not have the ability to see into the future, but I can tell you that I do not think you will die soon.”

“So, you are saying that you believe he will step up in time of need?” He asks.

“I do. T’Challa has shown that he is able to read situations for what they are and keep a cool head in times of adversity. I strongly believe he will do what is needed if anything were to happen to you and the Queen Mother.” The king thanks her for her insight and dismisses her.

T’Challa visits her on the roof that night. “What if we did everything secretly?” He asks. “We will be sneaky, and no one will be the wiser.”

“I…” Nakia knows this is wrong, but she finds herself wanting to throw herself in T’Challa’s arms while they are both in court. If they do things like this at night, maybe she can control herself better during the day. “If we make sure that absolutely no one else knows about this.” She warns.

T’Challa breathes a sigh of relief. “Absolutely no one.” And he lunges for her. “I have missed you.” By the end of the night, with the prince sleeping on her shoulder, Nakia notices again just how low the stars are hanging tonight. They’ll be ok.

#nakia/tchalla #t'challa x nakia #magic au #forbidden love #ladiesofmarvelbingo20 #lomb2020 #AU_gust_2020 #i write!

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talpup · 4 years

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Erase the Shadow: 9

Please remember, this fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers.

***If you prefer reading off AO3 here’s the link for that: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22027552/chapters/54545182

I write for my own enjoyment, but edit and post for yours. If you enjoyed reading this at all please comment and let me know. It’s the only thing that encourages me to keep editing and posting.

Thank you to those who have left hearts. And a VERY special thank you to those who have recently left comments or re-blogged. They really mean a lot.

As always, an extra special thank you to @inorganicone2230 for their encouragement and friendship. This fic was my personal guilty pleasure, and without them never be getting posted. If it weren’t for our brainstorming sessions I probably wouldn’t be updating today. Your help with Nemuri's backstory and encouraging my thoughts and plan with the Void have been a HUGE help. Thank you!

9.1

Shouta’s class of 3-A dismissed, Teris turned to him. “Can I ask you something?”

Shouta lifted his eyes from the paper he was grading and waited till the final student had exited. “Of course.”

“Do you not trust me with your class?”

“What? Of course I do.”

“Then you doubt my teaching ability.”

“I do not.” Shouta said, lowering the red pen. “Why would you think that?”

“We’re in the third week of school and you’ve yet to leave the classroom when I come in to teach.”

Shouta's mouth suddenly felt dry.

She had noticed. Of course she noticed, he thought. You sit at your desk listening to her voice during the lecture segment of her strategics lesson. How could she not notice?

“I don’t teach ethics on Friday’s.” Shouta said, lamely.

“And grading papers while I’m talking is preferable to the teachers lounge?”

“You’re not in here talking the entire time.” Shouta remarked, glad when his voice didn’t sound as disappointed by that as he felt. “In case you haven’t noticed the teachers lounge can get almost as rowdy as the cafeteria.

“Right. Sorry.” Teris turned back to the podium.

Shouta could tell by the way she moved that she still didn’t fully believe him. “If I doubted your trustworthiness or ability as a teacher I would’ve mentioned something to Principle Nedzu.”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Did you?”

“If I did he clearly didn’t listen.” Shouta said, dryly.

Teris smirked.

Shouta got to his feet and moved around his desk. “Look. If I had any real concerns about you I would say something. At the very least I would join you out in the training yard for the practical part of your lesson instead of staying in grading papers.”

“True.”

He saw the slight tension in her shoulders ease and was grateful that he had never given into the urge to go watch her put his class through their paces.

“You shouldn’t care so much what people think.” Shouta said.

Teris looked back at him, scowling. “I don’t.”

“You cared what I thought.”

“You’re not people.” Teris’ eyes widened.

Shouta’s heart did that funny little stutter step it did whenever he saw her. “I know most think me a grouch or a gremlin, Shadow, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a person.”

“People think that because you are a grouch and a gremlin, Eraser.”

The blushing heat in her cheeks only grew when he gave her a fraction of a smile, blinking slowly at her.

She turned back around, ducking her head till her hair shielded her face from view.

What she wouldn’t give for something like his capture weapon to hide behind. The thought had her mind imagining what it would feel like wearing it. Would it carry his warmth? His scent? Her thoughts took a less wholesome turn and she cleared her throat.

“I gotta admit I was a bit surprised at how many students you still had in your class.” She said while needlessly shuffling papers.

“Those lacking potential are weeded out the first few weeks of their first year. Anyone expelled after that is usually re-enroll the following day.”

“A sort of wake-up call.”

Shouta lifted a shoulder and nodded.

“You know that stays on their school record.”

“As it does on mine.” He grinned.

“That’s how you have so many student expulsions yet still have a class to teach!” She said, realization dawning. “I wondered at those numbers. Figured you were walking around expelling students from other classes.”

“You read my file?” Shouta questioned.

He didn’t tell her that he had expelled students from other classes. As director of the hero course he had that ability. Much to Kan’s annoyance.

“Well… Yeah.” Why was she blushing again? “I read the files of everyone I would be working with.”

“Hey, Babe.” Hizashi called, entering.

“Mic.” Teris answered, pointedly.

“Sorry. Shadow.” Hizashi corrected himself.

Teris rolled her eyes. School was over and it was Friday so the hallways were mostly empty. Still, her boyfriend had to learn to keep it professional while at work. Though after three weeks of school that seemed unlikely.

“I’m gonna go get ready. You sure you’ll be fine getting there with Nemuri?” Hizashi asked.

“I’m an adult, Yamada. I’d be fine getting there without Kayama.”

Hizashi knew it was because they were still on campus, but he didn’t like Teris referring to him so formally. “It’s a big city with lots of villains.”

“And I’m a pro hero.” Teris countered.

It wasn’t as if she didn’t know her way around town. Heck, she had begun taking patrols two weeks before school began. Much to Hizashi's chagrin.

“Baby.”

“Mic.”

“Shadow.” Hizashi corrected.

Shouta watched the two mildly amused by their banter despite the usual hurt and annoyance he felt.

“Yes. Midnight and I will be going together.” Teris relented.

“Awesome!” Hizashi stole a quick kiss. “I’ll leave your names at the back door that way you won’t have’ta mess with the lines out front.”

He practically barreled through Nemuri on his way out.

Nemuri shook her head and entered. “He’s so sweet, Ris. I don’t know why you give him such a hard time. He’s only looking out for you as any good boyfriend should.”

“You heard all that, huh.”

Nemuri slipped up beside Shouta a smile on her lips.

“Although,” Nemuri drew out, wrapping her arms around Shouta's, “the club is on a somewhat sketchy side of town. It wouldn’t hurt to have a big, strong man there to protect us.”

“Kayama. You know Aizawa doesn’t like dance clubs. We’ll be fine.”

“Who are you? His girlfriend? Let the man decide for himself.” Nemuri turned to Shouta and grinned. “What do you say, Eraser? Wanna go out with two hot girls? Make sure no one dances too close or touches things they shouldn’t?”

Shouta swallowed.

A possessive wave raced through him at the thought of someone touching and grinding up against Teris. What had he planned to do tonight anyway? Feed the stray cats that lived in the alley behind his apartment. Grade more papers and work on lesson plans. Watching Teris dance sounded like a far better evening.

“I��ll go.” Shouta mumbled.

Teris blinked in surprise. “Really?”

“I haven’t seen Mic DJ in a over a year.” Shouta said with an easy shrug.

“Pick us up at my place in a couple hours.” Nemuri said, stepping away from Shouta and pushing Teris out the door. “Wear something other than the usual, Eraser.”

9.2

Shouta had never been one to fuss about what he wore.

His wardrobe consisted mostly of black with a few various items of grey. There was the exception of the three pairs of pink track pants that he had purchased on-line late one night while running on too little sleep and far too much coffee. But given the clearance price he had paid for them, he was somewhat proud of the buy despite the unfortunate color.

Having everything pretty much one color made things easy on him. He didn’t have to concern himself with trivial things such as matching stuff up. The fact that he had several copies of the same top and pants meant that he didn’t have to fuss about what he was going to wear. Until now…

He knocked on Nemuri's door still annoyed that she had made him worry about what to wear. He still was sure what she had meant by, something other than the usual. A different fabric or cut of pants? A different color top? Different shoes?

Just to be safe he had changed up all three, choosing to wear dark denim with a charcoal grey button up and a different set of black work boots.

Nemuri answered the door. “We’re almost ready.”

“I didn’t expect you to be ready.” Shouta drawled, entering the apartment.

“Hey! I would've been if Teris had been more agreeable.”

“You wanted me to dress like a slut!” Teris’ voice sounded from Nemuri's bedroom.

“Slut! I wear that outfit all the time.” Nemuri said, leaving Shouta to his own devices as she made her way back to the bedroom.

Shouta sat down and tried to calm his nerves. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. It wasn’t as if this were a date. He wouldn’t even be alone with Teris. Nemuri would be there.

But Hizashi wouldn’t, he thought. Well he would but he would be on stage doing his thing, Shouta's mind corrected.

The thought of being with Teris outside of work without Hizashi present excited him. Not that he was going to try anything. He respected Teris and his friendship with Hizashi too much for that.

“We’re ready.” Nemuri sang, exiting the bedroom several minutes latter.

Shouta turned. At the sight of Teris he rose to his feet.

She looked...amazing. An unpleasant wave of jealousy washed through him at the thought of other people seeing her like that.

“Tell us we look pretty, Shouta.” Nemuri prodded with a knowing smile.

“You look..” Beautiful. “Very pretty.” Shouta said, dark eyes on Teris.

They were stopped at the clubs back door by a bored looking bouncer.

“Go around the front if you wanna get in.”

“Present Mic said he would leave you our names.” Nemuri said, pushing forward.

The Bouncer reached into his back pocket and took out his phone. “Names.”

“It should be under Teris.” Nemuri supplied.

The Bouncer’s eyes lifted from the phone. “It say girlfriend: Teris, plus one.”

“Yeah, and?”

His eyes moved between Nemuri and Teris. “Which one of you is the girlfriend?”

“I am.” Teris said, raising her hand slightly.

“Look,” the Bouncer sighed, “I’m normally don’t care but your boyfriend draws a huge crowd. Everyone loves Present Mic. So when it says plus one, I’m gonna have ta hold it at that. Pick one of your friends and send the other home.”

“Excuse me?”

Nemuri held a silencing hand up to Teris. Chewing the guy out was unnecessary.

“Trust me. If Mic had known that her boyfriend was getting in a day early he would’ve said plus two.”

“Her boyfriend?” The Bouncer repeated, furrowing his brow at Nemuri before glancing back at Teris.

“What? You’ve never heard the term poly-ship before? You gonna judge Mic for being a confident guy who shares his girl? Are you gonna hate on Mic’s girlfriend for having two boyfriends?” Nemuri asked crossing her arms.

“N—n—no! Of course not!” The Bouncer stepped out of the doorway.

Nemuri grabbed Teris by the hand and pulled her inside. “I know you miss Shouta, Ris, but try not to get yourself off dry humping him in the middle of the dance floor like last time.”

Shouta stepped passed the Bouncer, keenly aware of the man’s wide following gaze.

“Have a good night.” The Bouncer called after them in a daze.

Nemuri turned back and smiled. “I already am, Sweetie. Thanks!”

“I can’t believe you did that!” Teris squeaked, pulling her hand from Nemuri's as soon as they were out of sight.

“Yes you can. You know me too well.” Nemuri countered. “What about you, Shou?” She looked back at Shouta. “Wanna scold me for getting you in without a fuss?”

“I wouldn’t say it was without a fuss.” Shouta muttered rubbing the back of his neck.

He missed his capture weapon. At least the lighting in here was dim enough that the blush he felt heating his face hopefully wasn’t too noticeable.

“Well the guy said the place would be packed so we better stake out some seats.” Nemuri said.

“You came to sit.” Shouta remarked.

“No. But comfortable as these heels are I’m gonna have to take a break once or twice. Plus, I know for a fact that you’re not gonna dance.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “You can look after my purse while you watch me and Teris from afar. You’re good at that.”

“What? At watching your purse?” Teris scoffed, as she was once again dragged behind Nemuri.

Shouta felt his ears heat along with his cheeks that time and was glad that he hadn’t tied up his hair.

It was both a relief and quite bothersome how oblivious Teris was. But given that she was currently with Hizashi, Shouta was glad that she hadn’t picked up on Nemuri's none to subtle taunting.

He didn’t know what Nemuri wanted from him. It wasn’t as if he could flirt or ask out his best friend's girlfriend. Painful as all of this was, he wouldn’t even attempt to break Hizashi and Teris up. He had been friend's with Hizashi too long for that.

Besides, Teris was his soulmate. If Hizashi didn’t ruin things himself, she would break things off with him eventually. She and Hizashi weren’t meant to be together. Everything would work out.

At least that’s what Shouta kept telling himself.

9.3

The warm-up DJ was still going when Hizashi sent Teris a text.

Hizashi: Send me a pic of your beautiful self and tell me where you’re sitting.

A few minutes later his phone dinged.

Teris: Stage right, not too far from the bar. Give you one guess whose idea that was.

Even if Teris hadn’t come with only Nemuri, Hizashi would’ve known who had made that decision.

Then his phone dinged again and he saw that it wasn’t just Teris and Nemuri. The picture was a group shot of his smiling girlfriend and Nemuri with Shouta squished in between them.

His smiled tightened, a bolt of irritation striking through him.

Shouta hated dance clubs. What was he doing here? Scratch that. He knew exactly what his best friend was doing here.

His fingers hit the touch pad a little harder as he typed.

Hizashi: I said a pic of your beautiful self. Not you and two losers. LOL.

His phone dinged, but the text was from Nemuri not a reply from Teris.

Nemuri: You’re just jealous that your hot gf is down here with your bff while you’re up there working. Make that bank Baby. Maybe then you can treat your girl to something special and hot, sexy Zawa won’t steal her away.

“Everything alright, Present Mic?”

Hizashi looked up from his phone.

“A-okay!” He said giving a thumbs up and one of his signature smiles to the clubs entertainment director.

“You’re on in two minutes.” The Director said.

“Awesome!” Hizashi glanced back at his phone.

Nemuri: Come on Zashi. I was playing. Say something. Ris is mad at me. ;(

Hizashi: Something.

9.4

As the night wore on and he had consumed a few drinks on a relatively empty stomach, Teris and Nemuri were able to talk Shouta into going out on the dance floor with them.

It was kind of nice… Okay really nice. Even if all he did was stand still while Teris and Nemuri dance around him.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the woman that he loved. He was enthralled. Hypnotized by the way Teris moved. The swing of her hips. The sway of her hair. The slight bounce of her breasts.

He practically lost it the first time her arms wrapped around his neck, her body moving to the music. His own arms twitched, wanting to wrap around her waist. But before he got up the nerve she had spun around and moved back to Nemuri.

She had returned to him a number of times after. Smiling and breathless, her hands either running up his chest, over his shoulders, or down his back. It was the most glorious feeling in the world.

For those few moments while her hands were on him as she danced, Shouta could pretend that they were together. And during the few occasions when someone came up to her, he was able to stop them from touching her.

Sure he had to suffer through Hizashi touching her. But out here on the dance floor while Hizashi was on stage, he could stop any other guy from getting too close.

Nemuri thankfully didn’t say a thing during those times. While Teris had merely thanked him for shooing off the unwanted attention.

Shouta was both bothered and grateful that Teris undoubtedly saw it as him protecting his best friend's girlfriend. But there was little that he could do about that. Just as there was little he could do about Teris leaving him at the end of the night to go back with Hizashi to the apartment they shared together.

9.5

Nemuri was in bed asleep but fully aware and conscious of the dream that she was having. She hated it when the Void interrupted and visited her dreams. And it had been such a good dream too.

Unfortunately the dark force’s visitations had been happening more frequently.

“Must I show you what will happen if you fail to bring Teris and Aizawa together?” The Void questioned.

Nemuri stared at the black silhouette. “No. And it’s not as if I’m not trying. These things take time. After all, you were the one who told me to help get Yamada and her together. I can’t just break them up and put her and Shouta together like a couple of puzzle pieces. They’re people with their own thoughts and feelings.”

“It’s Teris’ lacking feelings for Yamada Hizashi that are the issue. She needs to feel much more deeply if her quirk is to grow.”

“I still don’t understand what you mean. Quirk training--”

“This has nothing to do with strengthening the so called muscle of her quirk.” The Void said over her.

Knowing that he wouldn’t tell her even if she asked him to explain, Nemuri pleaded. “Just give me time. Please. Teris likes Shouta. She loves him. She’s had a thing for him since UA. The two of them would probably be married high school sweethearts if you hadn’t had me ruin things between them.”

She was unable to keep the bitterness from her voice at that.

Though it had been years, she still felt guilty for letting Teris continue to talk about Shouta’s attempted kiss and cheesy tale about soulmates when she had known that Kan had been listening.

At least Kan had gossiped the story so she hadn’t had to. She didn’t want to think about how much worse her guilt would’ve been if she had had to blatantly break her friend's trust by spreading the story herself.

“I had hoped to keep Aizawa well away from her.” The Void said.

It was inconvenient that the only man who seemed capable of making Teris’ quirk grow was also capable of canceling out her quirk.

After all this time trying to keep Aizawa away from Teris, it appeared as if the boy who shared Teris’ dreams was now the only man capable of doing what he needed. He needed Teris’ quirk to grow, not strengthen. And in order for that to happen he needed Teris to lose herself. He needed someone to elicit a deep and powerful emotional reaction in her. A reaction that was raw and primal.

“I will give you more time. But I demand progress. Remember, I saved you when your mother’s boyfriends turned their lecherous eyes to you. I’m the one who put it in your head to become a hero.”

Only because you wanted me to get close to Teris, Nemuri thought. She loved being a hero but given the lifestyle she had grown up in the idea to become one never would've crossed her mind if it wasn’t for the Void.

She hated that she owed being a pro hero to him and his prodding. It was far from the greatest thing she hated about the Void, but it was the one that stuck with her and stung the most.

“If you fail me, I will leave you like I did those men who looked at you with lust when your mother wasn’t watching. Locked in a loop of your own personal hell while the world thinks you’re nothing but a poor brainless coma patient.”

Nemuri's voice trembled as she promised. “I won’t fail you.”

“Good. And just in case you doubt me, I will leave you with a small taste of what awaits you should you do.”

9.6

It was the final weekend off before the second semester of school began and Nemuri had planned an evening out with three of her closest friends.

“I love that you’ve been joining us for more things, Shouta.” Nemuri beamed, bumping his shoulder playfully.

Shouta ignored her and tried to ignore the way Hizashi had just shoved his tongue into Teris’ mouth.

He honestly didn’t know why he started accepting his friend’s invitations. Yes, he wanted to see and spend time more with Teris. But Hizashi was always there with his hands all over her.

It was torture. And since he didn’t have to be there, it was all self induced. But try as he might to stay away, he couldn’t.

“You wouldn’t happen to be hanging out with us more often because a certain someone rejoined our group, would you, Shou?” Nemuri teased quietly.

Shouta's eyes turned to Nemuri's sparkling blue. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Across the table from the two of them, Teris pulled away from Hizashi's kiss.

Try as she might not to glance in Shouta's direction, she couldn’t help herself. She wasn’t all that comfortable with PDA to begin with; but when Shouta was around, that discomfort rose exponentially.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love kissing Hizashi or having his hands on her, but there was a time and place. And that place was most definitely not in front of Shouta.

“Zashi. Settle down.” She chided.

“Just give us a kiss, Ris Wren.”

Teris turned her face when Hizashi tried to kiss her again.

Hizashi nuzzled her neck.

Teris’ fingers threaded through his loose hair and tugged.

Hizashi was close enough that she heard his needy whine.

“I need to behave for me, Sunshine.”

Teris leaned closer and Hizashi licked his lips. For a second he thought that she was going to kiss him, but at the last moment she diverted.

Her hair brushed the side of his face as she spoke in his ear. “It was your idea to accept Nemuri's offer of drinks. I was fine with staying home.”

“But--”

She gave his hair another tug. “So now you have to be good.”

Hizashi wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged at her. “But I need to touch you, Baby.”

“If you’re good and behave for me I’ll do that thing you wanted to try.”

Hizashi's eyes widened. He had been wanting to roleplay but despite his attempts to talk her around, Teris had thus far remained against it.

“You mean it?” He asked.

Teris gave his lips a quick peck. “You know I don’t say things unless I mean them.”

“Yeah!” Hizashi exclaimed.

Teris grimaced when people from nearby tables turned, having heard Hizashi's cheer despite the loud drone of conversation and music.

“I still can’t get over how cute you two are together!” Nemuri gushed over Hizashi and Teris. She elbowed Shouta who sat to her right. “Aren’t they cute together, Shou?”

Shouta scowled at both Nemuri's treatment and words.

Cute was not the how he would describe Hizashi and Teris being together. Painful. Grating. Maddening. He had never wanted to punch his best friend in the face so badly till the day that he had learned Hizashi was dating the woman he loved. And that desire had only grown as their relationship continued.

He hated that Hizashi was with Teris. Hated that his best friend seemed to make his soulmate happy. Hated the way Hizashi looked at and talked about her. He definitely hated when Hizashi touched her.

At least Teris didn’t talk about Hizashi much when he and her were alone. The fact that they had found themselves alone together more and more of late made Shouta smile.

“Cats are cute.” Shouta said, knowing it would annoy Hizashi.

“Cats.” Hizashi scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Shouta chuckled.

Teris lifted her glass to Shouta and took a sip.

“Don’t encourage him by toasting that.” Hizashi chided.

“What? I agree. Cats are cute.” Teris said.

“Not as cute as you. Not as cute as we are together.” Hizashi argued.

“That’s debatable.” Teris said, giving Shouta a playful wink.

“What?”

Hizashi's near squawked reaction was exactly what she was expecting. Sometimes her boyfriend was too easy.

“Depends on the cat.” Teris smirked with a shrug.

Shouta raised his glass and toasted her, downing his drink.

“You two stop teaming up to upset poor Zashi.” Nemuri scolded lightly.

“But it’s so easy.” Teris said, squishing her boyfriend’s cheeks.

“I’d drink to that but I need a refill.” Shouta quipped.

Teris laughed and Shouta chuckled.

Hizashi smiled though he felt no joy behind it.

It wasn’t that he wanted his best friend and girlfriend to hate each other, but he could admit to himself that it was nicer when the two had been so uncertain around each other that they barely spoke. Now it almost felt as if Shouta and Teris were having secret, unspoken conversations behind every look and thing they said to each other.

“Speaking of teaming up.” Nemuri said, resting her elbows on the table. “You two really should.”

“What?” The three of them asked, Hizashi's voice by far the loudest.

“I mean you’re both underground heroes.” Nemuri said, glancing from Shouta to Teris. “I admit I don’t know all that much about being an underground pro, but I would figure that trying to find new CI’s would be rough when you’re new to town.”

Shouta's eyes panned to Teris, watching her nod at that.

He hadn’t considered it, but Nemuri was right. Starting out in a new place would be rough. Even more so now that the streets were on edge due to the whispers of a new dark force.

Though Shouta was certain that this new force people were talking about was somehow the Void, Teris wasn’t connected to him. At least not in the way people would assume if and when they learned that her quirk allowed her to channel darkness.

“You go out on patrol too much as it is.” Hizashi told Teris. Gathering himself he chose his words more carefully. “The student’s will suffer if you take on another patrol.”

“What nights do you patrol?” Shouta asked, despite already knowing.

“Monday, Thursday, Saturday, and every other Friday.” Teris answered.

“See! Too much!” Hizashi put in.

Ignoring Hizashi's outburst, Shouta stated. “I patrol Tuesday, Wednesday, Sunday, and every other Friday and Saturday.”

Teris was about to say that she knew that, but caught herself before she did.

“Fridays and Saturdays are the most hectic. Working with someone else would be of benefit.” Shouta slowly offered, knowing that she wouldn’t accept if she thought he was getting nothing out of it.

Teris turned to Hizashi. “I wouldn’t be taking on another patrol. And you wouldn’t worry so much.”

“Worry?” Nemuri questioned.

Teris rolled her eyes. “It’s how he tries to guilt me into skipping out of Saturday patrols. Says that even though I’m a capable hero, the weekends bring all the crazy's out and he worries.”

“Well problem solved.” Nemuri smiled lifting her hands in victory. “Shouta will go out with her and you won’t have to worry your pretty little head, Zashi.”

Hizashi quelled the urge to yell at Nemuri.

“Sure.” Hizashi smiled. He pinned Shouta with a look that his best friend would be able to read with ease. “You just better make sure that my girl’s returned to me untouched, you hear.”

Before Shouta could respond their waiter set a drink on the table. “This is for you from the lady over by the patio entrance.”

“Tell her I’m happily taken.” Hizashi said, slinging his arm over Teris’ shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” The Waiter apologized, embarrassed on Hizashi’s behalf. “It’s not for you. It’s for you.” He pushed the drink closer to Shouta.

“What!” Hizashi exclaimed. “Him?”

“Go, Shouta! I told you, you were a handsome devil.” Nemuri grinned, elbowing him.

“I don’t want it.” Shouta said, not even bothering to look in the direction the Waiter had gestured to. “Take it back. Please.”

Teris had hated the jealousy that had sparked in her when the Waiter had first set the drink in front of Shouta stating it was from some woman. But she hated more the swell of relief that had followed when Shouta denied the drink.

She was with Hizashi. But try as she might to bury her feelings for Shouta, they wouldn’t stay covered. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Hizashi. Hizashi was wonderful. Great. He made her happy. Happier than she had been in a very long time.

But these feelings for Shouta…

She wondered if it would be easier if Shouta was with someone. He definitely deserved to be happy. She wanted him to be happy. But the thought of him being with someone made her anything but happy.

The two of them had slowly become closer again. Almost like the way they had been before everything went wrong when they were at UA. But as wonderful as the closeness was, given the way she felt, it was asking for all sorts of trouble. Trouble she didn’t want and could easily be avoid if she kept her distance from Shouta. Something she had promised herself she would do.

But now she had just agreed to do her Friday and Saturday patrols with him. What had she been thinking? She wondered if she could back out without drawing too many questions.

#bnha #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #hizashi yamada #yamada hizashi #eraserhead #present mic #yandere hizashi #yandere #nemuri kayama #my hero academia #erase the shadow

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