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if-you-built-yourself-a-myth · 3 years

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Check Ignition: Part IV

A Sobbe fake-dating Hogwarts AU that one person asked for and I dove into headfirst

Part I // Part II // Part III // Part IV

Requests are open if you have any oneshot ideas or opinions on how this should continue!

In their bedroom that night, Jens had a whole roll of parchment full of ideas. Robbe fell asleep first on the common room couch after Hufflepuff’s party, and meandered to his room at three AM to find Jens awaiting him on the windowsill. Aaron, conked out, had pulled the curtains of his four-poster shut and cast a few silencing charms for privacy.

“Muffliato,” Robbe cast under his breath, just in case. Aaron wasn’t the greatest at Charms.

“I was supposed to patrol tonight,” Robbe told Jens. “Did Jana go alone?”

Jens nodded. “She said you would’ve lost her anyway, whatever that means.”

“You’re talking again?”

“Uh, yeah, of course. Okay, here, look at this…” Jens smacked down his parchment on the little floor space they had in their bedroom. Each little segment of dormitory housed four boys with their beds in a circle around the heater in the middle. While Jens, Robbe, and Aaron didn’t have a fourth shoved in with them, the fourth bed’s curtains were also closed. Robbe assumed it was Moyo staying over after the party. Their copious belongings covered most available surfaces: books piled up next to bedspreads, clothing strewn over trunks, candy wrappers overflowing from trash bins.

“I think you have to dial it up,” Jens explained. He flattened the parchment until Robbe could kind of read his sloping cursive. The title at the top of the page was scribbled out, replaced with the words Operation Ditch-Noor. “Noor seems more persistent.”

Robbe thought back on their conversation. It made his head hurt to think. “She’s done.”

“Didn’t seem it today. How much did you drink?”

“I can read it,” said Robbe. He, in fact, could not read it. Why did Jens have to write everything in cursive?

The party itself had gone by pretty smoothly, from what he could piece together at the moment. Sander turned on music from his player, an upbeat song called Rebel Rebel, and had everyone spinning in circles on the common room carpet. Robbe didn’t remember kissing Sander at all. He remembered taking a cupful of punch from Aaron and not asking about its alcohol content. The girls left early to go console Zoë on the loss, and he’d woken up with a blanket that he didn’t have when he fell asleep.

Actually, that was a pretty solid outline considering the circumstances. Good on Robbe.

Jens gave Robbe a minute to puzzle through the spirals on the parchment. If he looked at it sideways, it might be a picture of a big black dog.

“Thoughts?” said Jens. He bumped Robbe’s shoulder with his own. Robbe looked around. When did they sit on the floor?

“Good,” he said.

“Good. It was a major oversight on your part, not having a public date in the first week. You’re going to have to compensate now.”

“What?”

Jens sighed. “Like, you have to be twice as convincing. Why am I even friends with you?”

“You’re so smart,” Robbe agreed.

“Is that Robbe?” said the fourth bed. It didn’t sound like Moyo. Moyo’s drunk voice was always deeper than his normal one, full of false bravado, while this one was much lighter. Sure enough, Sander peeked his head out from the curtains. His hair stuck up in all different directions.

Jens got up from the ground and smacked Sander’s arm as Sander tried to reach for Robbe. “You don’t have to trick us. Jeez.” He addressed Robbe again. “He’s been like this all night.”

Sander ignored him. “Come over here,” he said to Robbe. “I haven’t seen you.”

“You saw me,” Robbe said.

“Not a lot.”

“Yeah, so this is the kind of material we need.” Jens pointed at the parchment roll. “Noor’s going to leave you alone.”

“Come here, Robbe.”

Robbe sobered—while Sander didn’t exactly sound serious, there was something more in the way he said those words. What, Robbe couldn’t be sure. He was probably projecting, making the whole thing up.

Sander’s clothing was rumpled, a stain on the collar of his shirt. There were circles around his eyes as if he’d been rubbing them. His perfect hand was just begging to be held—the vision began to blur a little bit on the edges, and Robbe had to blink a few times to make the picture clear again.

This wasn’t real. He was drunk and it wasn’t real. Robbe was hallucinating or something, that’s what it was.

And he didn’t want to sleep with Sander, at least, not yet.

“I am going to be physically ill,” said Jens. “Save this.”

They left the parchment on the floor. Jens climbed into his bed, Robbe into his. Sander left the curtains open on bed four, staring over at where Robbe lay, so Robbe left his own curtains open. Gotta have that line of sight. He knew Sander was drunk as a skunk, but goodness, it felt wonderful to have his attention.

“Goodnight, love,” he called over.

Jens covered his head with a his pillow. "Kill me."

***

Sander was gone when Robbe got up the next day, and just as well, because it was one PM. Robbe’s head hurt like a motherfucker. Good news, though: he could now read the parchment Jens had tacked to the door of their dormitory. Not without pain, but without much struggle. In the bottom left-hand corner, an artsy signature marked that Sander understood the objectives. Sander Driesen. He dotted the i in his last name with a little circle instead of a plain dot.

Robbe speed-read the document to the best of his ability. And panicked. If Sander was following this, they had plans at five today.

He gathered his things and dashed to the shower, careful not to wake up anyone else who might still be sleeping. Aaron seemed to have gone out; his bed was empty. Jens wasn’t visible, and Robbe didn’t think it right to open the bedcurtains to see if he was there. The shower water was freezing cold. Robbe did a little warming spell he thought he remembered and ended up evaporating it all.

He took a very cold shower.

When that was done, he changed into a collared shirt with a sweater overtop and a pair of khaki pants. Casual date outfit, check. Fake date. Couldn’t forget that. He appraised his reflection in the mirror for too long to be considered normal.

There was plenty to do in the span between now and five o’clock—exams were three weeks away and Robbe didn’t know the main ingredients of Amortentia. But he couldn’t bring himself to open the books. It made much more sense to pace around the room.

Of course they’d go on a date. Real relationships would have dates.

And Sander—last night—it was nothing.

Robbe spent a lot of his mental energy convincing himself that things didn’t matter. He spent a little more trying to forget this revelation.

Four forty-five arrived before he could list out all the possible ways a date could go wrong.

The castle was always louder on Saturday afternoons and evenings. With the morning’s hangover remedied, students were free to gossip as they pleased. As Robbe headed down the stairs to the dungeons, where Jens’ note detailed he would meet Sander, he heard no less than four separate conversations that should have been private. Two Gryffindors were having a Wrackspurt problem in their dormitory. Several Slytherins discussed a magical cure for gonorrhea that would not alert Madame Pomfrey to their situation. Yasmina and Zoë attended extra Potions sessions together, and Robbe heard them debating the proper way to skin a human arm for use. Most of interest: Britt and another girl in the final hallway.

“Sander doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Britt lamented. “I don’t think he’s been going to the hospital wing.”

“You don’t know that,” the girl replied, resting a comforting hand on Britt’s back.

Robbe tried to shrink back on himself as he walked by.

Britt wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “And I’m the one that’s gonna be there when it goes to shit.”

Give it up, thought Robbe. He booked it the rest of the way to the Slytherin common room’s entrance.

Sander was waiting beside the door, his back against the stonework. His look today was different than Robbe had ever seen it, a leather jacket and a t-shirt paired with tight black jeans. When he raised a hand to wave at Robbe, the shirt rode up enough to expose a line of pale skin. Robbe felt overdressed in his sweater. Sander shouldn’t think he was taking this too seriously.

“Where are we headed?” Sander asked, as soon as Robbe was within asking range.

Robbe’s eyes went wide. “I thought you were planning it.”

“I've been hungover.” Sander pushed away from the wall. He slipped his hand into Robbe’s, and they headed for the staircase that led out of the dungeons. Usually, only Slytherins used it. “I'm good with whatever. For Britt, obviously. Somewhere she'll see."

The staircase spit them out into the upstairs hallway. Sander brought them outside through the front doors and down into the sprawling lawn. He stopped once his feet hit the grass, and turned to Robbe. “Dealer’s choice.”

“Did Jens give instructions?”

“Jens doesn’t dictate your dating life.”

Robbe frowned. “My fake dating life.”

He hated Sander’s pained expression. “Yeah, exactly.”

Only one way to make Sander smile again, and that was to go somewhere nice. Robbe surveyed the campus. They couldn’t go to Hogsmede today unless they snuck there, and Sander wasn’t in subtle attire. There was the forest, all of those beautiful, towering trees, but there was a fifty percent chance of death if they got too close. The Whomping Willow ruled out a good chunk of grassy lawn. He knew their only option would be to sit by the lake.

Lots of couples sat by the lake. Any fake relationship should feature a date there. It got foot traffic, it was public, it screamed to the world hey, we’re together.

Robbe didn’t bring a blanket. What if he got cold?

What if Sander got cold?

The thought alone of Sander cuddled into his side was enough to drive Robbe to action. He wondered what that said about him as a person.

“The lake,” said Robbe. “We can—um—we can be there.”

“You have something to sit on?”

“Uh…”

“Yeah, I counted on it.” Sander reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny square of fabric. With a wave of his wand, it grew into a full-sized picnic blanket in his arms. “Show me where you want to be.”

***

The early evening air, combined with the chill off the lake, had Robbe shivering in no time. He should have brought his coat out with him, but it wasn’t in the best shape, and he worried that mending spells could only keep it alive for so much longer. Best to save it for winter, when things got bad. Sander, on the other hand, had no problem removing his own jacket and sliding it around Robbe’s shoulders. He wrapped one bare arm around Robbe, sliding his hand into Robbe’s back pocket.

“This is nice,” he said.

“Cold,” said Robbe.

“I’ll tell Jens to plan the next one. He seems to like us as a couple.”

Something in Robbe’s stomach fluttered. The possibility of more intoxicated him. He caught himself before the desire became too strong; there had to be more. No convincing fake relationship was just one date.

Dusk crept in along the sky. Many of the other couples gathered their things to attend a Great Hall dinner, the likes of which Robbe had not consumed all week. He willed his stomach not to growl. Their blanket was close enough to the lake that casual waves poked at its edges.

“That’s your friend, isn’t it?” said Sander, pointing toward the castle’s open doors.

Robbe looked over. Zoë and Senne made their way across the lawn with their own picnic blanket and a lumpy knapsack. Behind them was Milan, Zoë’s best friend and Senne’s suitemate. Zoë smiled when she saw Robbe and jogged the remainder of the distance between them, dropping to the grass an inch away from Sander’s blanket.

“Look at you!” She pinched Robbe’s cheek. “Date night, I take it?”

Robbe tried not to look sheepish. “Jens said we should.”

“Mmhm,” said Zoë. She turned her attention to Sander. “Tell me the love story. I need to know.”

“Oh, it’s a great story. Settle in.” Sander adjusted his position. He scooted away from Robbe, then gently tipped backward until his head rested on Robbe’s lap. “Picture this. My ex brought her best friend on one of our dates because she was mad at me. We went to the Three Broomsticks.”

Robbe remembered the Three Broomsticks. Obviously. His cheeks heated. He began twisting sections of Sander’s hair around his fingers, if only to do something with his hands. He knew Zoë just wanted to hear what Sander could think up on the fly.

“Her best friend had a date, too. No problem. I was going to spend the time staring at the wall so I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Except, the date walked in, and it was Robbe here, and I just lost it. I saw him sitting there and I thought, Sander, he is the one.”

Now Robbe was really blushing. He wanted to go vaporous and phase through the ground, if he could just remember the spell…

“I thought I was being dramatic, that I needed to give it some time. But I couldn’t get him off my mind. So I broke up with Britt. She used to complain that he spent all his time up in the astronomy tower instead of patrolling. You bet your ass I went there one night to see if he’d come up. And he did.” Sander shrugged. “The rest is history.” He propped himself up and caught Robbe in a chaste kiss.

“Yeah, you can cut the bullshit.” Zoë turned to check Senne’s progress toward them. He was still a decent distance away. “Robbe told me about this.”

Sander huffed. “I said nothing that wasn’t true.” He kissed Robbe again.

“Yeah, pretty sure none of that was true. But I like the backstory. It’s really good.”

“I think I could make it as a writer,” said Sander.

Robbe assumed the conversation would end there. Zoë and Sander did not seem like the types of people who would have much to say to one another. Unfortunately, Zoë’s prying conversation gave Milan time to catch up.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, upon seeing Sander and Robbe together. He got in close to Zoë for a stage whisper. “So this is Robbe's straight guy!” Zoë shot him a look. “What? is he not straight?”

Sander did not miss a beat, even though a statement like that implied Milan knew the truth of the arrangement. “Bisexual, actually. Or pansexual—I’m still trying to figure that part out.”

“Aren’t we all,” said Milan knowingly. “Don’t fall for Robbe, then.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sander laughed. It sounded more resigned than joking. Something inside of Robbe combusted.

Milan and Senne went off and picked a spot a respectable distance away to study for their exams. Robbe noted in passing that Milan was reading pages much deeper in the Potions textbook than he had learned. He hadn’t been to a class since he started fake-dating Sander.

Zoë flashed an apologetic smile. “I didn’t tell him you were straight. Don’t know where he got that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Sander.

“And I didn’t mean to tell him the relationship was fake either, he was just so excited—”

“As long as it doesn’t get to Britt or Noor, we’re fine.”

“Robbe, are you okay?”

“Yes,” Robbe lied.

There were pleasantries afterward, although Robbe didn’t catch the specifics. He had other things to process. Sander talking about how they met—it all felt so real. Robbe found himself in a booth at the Three Broomsticks again, watching Sander take slow sips from his drink. He was in his four-poster bed while Sander slept, the curtains open so they could see each other in the dark.

He stepped on the emotion. Sander said he wouldn’t dream of falling in love with him.

Zoë went off to sit with her best friend and boyfriend, leaving space for Robbe and Sander’s date to begin. Where to begin? Number one: Sander would never fall in love with him because this was all fake. In tandem with Noor’s premonition last night, Robbe suddenly felt like he’d much rather be back inside the castle. In his bed. With the curtains pulled this time.

A headache could get him out of here. An urgent need to throw up? Maybe a mysterious summons from Jens. He needed to remember the charm that let him disappear.

Number two, back to Sander. He had wrapped his arms around his head, exposing that same patch of stomach. A line of black ink that might be a word traced the line of his hipbone down.

“Robbe?” Sander waved a hand in front of Robbe’s face.

Robbe blinked. “Huh?”

“Have you been hearing me?”

“Um,” said Robbe.

“You’re pulling my hair.”

Robbe moved his hands away. His mind was a mess of different thoughts—what would he tell the boys about this? It wasn’t fucking real. And Sander’s head was in his lap right now. He should have seen this coming before… no, he had seen this coming.

“Don’t stop,” said Sander softly. “Just… lighter.”

Robbe ran his hand through Sander’s hair. Lighter. A confession dangled on the tip of his tongue and he needed to push it back down.

“Some of what you said was true,” he said. He hoped Sander could draw the connection across conversations and realize he meant what Sander had said to Zoë, not Milan.

Sander understood. “Most of it was true.”

They waited a moment, listening to the soft waves on the lake and the bustle of other couples nearby.

“Right,” said Sander. “You’ve taken me on a date. The least you can do is tell me something nice.”

“What kind of thing?”

“Do you need Jens to write your speeches too?”

Robbe shied away from the vulnerability angle this time. Sander wouldn’t have any use for the information four weeks from now when exams were over. He marveled over how soft Sander’s hair was between his fingers, despite the fact that the ends were dry and dead from the bleach. “My father was the cook of the family,” he said. Something personal, but not intimate. “He had this recipe for blood sausage that had so many spices my mother could never stomach it. We would bring it to dinner parties when we didn’t like the people. It was funny to watch them try and compliment it during the meal when they clearly hated every last bite.” This was the story’s happier conclusion. Its actual conclusion was that his father took all the recipe cards when he walked out, and Robbe didn’t know the ingredients even though his father promised he’d get them when he turned sixteen.

“Tell me something nice.” He poked Sander.

“I don’t know if what you said constitutes nice,” said Sander. He reached up and ran a finger across Robbe’s chin. But he went on. “There’s this lady where I work over the summer that brings me David Bowie albums. She gets so excited every time she finds a new one in a garage sale somewhere, or at store, and I can’t tell her that I already own the albums already. I have five copies of Space Oddity.”

Robbe didn’t know who David Bowie was.

Another lapse into silence. Sander never seemed to mind a comfortable quiet. He guided Robbe’s head down to his for a simple kiss, but he left his eyes open, and Robbe could follow his sightline to Noor and Britt as they walked back to the castle from who-knows-where.

“Tell me something secret,” said Robbe. This much time without something on his mind could be seriously painful. “I went first last time.”

He kind of wanted Sander to refuse.

“I don’t have any secrets, Robbe.”

“You must have one.”

“Do you?”

Robbe shook his head quicker than he should have. He tried to sound as casual as possible when he said, “I’m an open book,” but he doubted it did any good.

The thing was, it was totally believable that Sander wouldn’t have any secrets. This was the boy who announced his sexuality to a friend of a friend that he didn’t even know. This was the boy who saw someone else in the astronomy tower, unloaded his relationship woes, and promptly kissed said someone else to get away from them. What did he have to hide, besides this relationship? What could someone like him possibly have to hide?

The dying day faded everything out into a stained-glass image that could take up the wall of a Hogwarts bathroom. Robbe let himself relax until his surroundings were no more than shapes and colors, pushing everything from his mind until he could barely process his hands running through Sander’s hair. The thoughts surfaced anyway. He was going to have to tell the boys about this, eventually, and maybe even Sander himself, if that was possible. Even now, his skin was electrified from contact.

So much for pushing back the sexuality crisis. It had to happen today.

“It is kind of nerve-wracking, all these people to convince,” Sander said, out of the blue. “I don’t even know who that guy is.” He pointed vaguely at Milan. “But right here, with us, this is okay. It’s just me. That’s my secret.”

That’s exactly the problem, thought Robbe. It’s just you. And I’m falling in love with you.

He said, “That’s a cop-out. Tell me something else.”

#sobbe #wtfock #sander driesen #robbe ijzermans #hogwarts au #fake dating #fic request #conflict is coming i'm so sorry #my writing #fanfiction

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xxx-cat-xxx · 5 years

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Ayy I am here with a request!! One of my favorites of your fics is the one where Tony, Clint, and Bruce are all in a safe house and can't leave and Tony has a stomach bug. I LOVE that setting. Would you be interested in writing another fic that takes place there? Maybe someone is on a mission with Tony and he starts to not feel well so they try to find a place to rest and by the time they get there, he's barely conscious? :O

Thank you for the prompt, dear! I decided to simply write a second chapter for that fic. I hope you feel better soon with your new meds and all

This is mostly whump and Avengers family fluff and banter. TW for illness and vomiting. Major thanks to @whumphoarder for beta reading.

___________

Safe (Chapter 2)

Read chapter 1 here.

The thing is, none of the Avengers consider themselves particularly lucky. Brilliant, strong, heroic? Yes, without question. Happy? Not nearly often enough, but it has happened occasionally. Lucky? Not a chance.

So, maybe, Bruce thinks later, maybe they should have seen it coming.

He’s jerked awake by Clint’s command of “Move! Let’s go, get up, come on, we need to go, now!” and for a moment he’s gripped by an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. But Clint isn’t delirious; he is as serious as Bruce has ever seen him, so Bruce complies with the orders before his brain is even fully awake.

The two of them drag Tony to his feet and into the bedroom, and then Clint shatters the window - a bit dramatically, but really, what else to expect from a former circus kid? They jump through, landing in varying states of (non)-elegance, and make a run for it.

Five seconds later, the house blows up.

“What the hell -?” Tony stops dead in his tracks to look at his friends with a baffled expression. “‘s this another fever dream or did someone actually just try to kill us?”

“Oh, it’s quite real,” Clint replies casually, picking an ember from his hair with a peace of mind Bruce can only envy. “I saw their van approaching through the window. That gave us a head start - otherwise we’d be toast. Now save your breath and move.”

Tony starts to jog again with visible effort, but of course he keeps talking. “So - just to make this clear” - he interrupts himself to drag in a breath, sweat beading on his brow despite the fact that it’s been barely a minute - “your so-called ‘safe house’ is now a heap of burning ash. Call me a stickler, but I have to say that makes it a very unsafe house.”

Clint just rolls his eyes and then grabs Tony by the elbow when he almost trips over his own feet. The archer turns his head back to Bruce, who is following them close behind. “You okay?”

Bruce is wondering what about escaping death by a five-second margin could possibly make him feel “okay”, but he knows what Clint is really asking about. Bruce is scared, which means that the Hulk is actively stirring in the back of his mind, but so far he is able to keep him under control. He makes a so-so gesture with his hand before asking, “Where are we going?”

“To take cover in the woods.” Clint points at the forest a few hundred yards away. “Under different circumstances, I would fight, but we don’t have any weapons on us and this isn’t ideal…” He nods at Tony, who is now visibly having a hard time keeping up. Bruce’s stomach clenches in worry; with a fever like that, Tony shouldn’t even be on his feet, let alone running around in the open. But it’s not like they have much of a choice.

They barely make it to the treeline when Tony suddenly stops and doubles over. He braces himself against a tree and heaves, a slim stream of vomit splattering onto the ground.

“How bad is it?” Bruce asks. His vision is shimmering green by now and he blinks nervously before massaging the pressure points on the inside of his wrists in an effort to calm himself down.

Tony coughs wetly and spits onto the ground before wiping his mouth. “I’ve been worse,” he says in a weak attempt at being reassuring. “Just, break?”

Bruce looks at Clint, who nods. They barely manage to rest for two minutes before a bullet whips past them, hitting the tree Tony was just leaning against.

“Fuck,” Clint curses, his nonchalance replaced by alertness. “Looks like they’re coming after us -”

The rest of his words are drowned out by a growing ringing in Bruce’s ears. There’s the familiar sensation of his limbs tingling, pulsating, swelling. He can feel his thoughts slipping away, being replaced by much simpler ones.

“No Bruce! Not now, don’t -”

But it’s too late. Danger, friends in danger, his mind screams, and that’s all it takes.

The Hulk emerges from the forest with a roar.

When Bruce comes back to himself, it’s with dizziness, exhaustion, and a sense of nausea, but also with the remnants of satisfaction in the back of his mind telling him that Hulk has sufficiently taken care of the bad guys.

He is naked, of course. Naked and alone and cold, somewhere in a forest in the middle of nowhere (and then people ask him why he dislikes his alter ego). With a sigh, he makes it to his knees, feeling shaky and lightheaded.

“Hello?” he calls hoarsely, and then, louder, “Tony? Clint?”

It takes him twenty minutes of walking in a random direction that he keeps telling himself is the way out of the woods until someone starts answering his calls, and another fifteen until he finds Clint and Tony in a small clearing that is being illuminated by the last rays of daylight. To Bruce’s surprise, they made it quite far into the forest; he wonders what Clint had to do to make Tony walk this much.

Tony is sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree, while Clint is balancing somewhere high up in the branches, likely keeping a lookout. When Bruce approaches the clearing, the archer jumps down with an agility that makes Bruce wonder whether they should give him a different nickname. Monkey-legs instead of Hawkeye, for example.

“Hey, Big Green,” Tony greets with an enthusiasm that can’t hide the weariness in his tone. “Or should I say Little White now?”

“Ha ha. Very funny.” Bruce can’t even muster a grin. “Um, by any chance, do we have some spare clothes here?”

And that’s the thing about friends. They’ll tease and poke you endlessly, they’ll embarrass you without limit, but when it comes down to it, they will give you the shirt off their back without making a big deal out of it. Quite literally, because two minutes later, Bruce is wearing Clint’s jeans and button-down, while Tony is giggling into his palm, unable to tear his eyes off Clint’s colourful boxers, which are decorated with a pattern of bows and arrows (“It was a gift from Lila, dude. Now shut up, or I’ll take off your pants.”)

This time Tony obliges, but mostly because they haul him to his feet a few seconds later and his face completely drains of colour. Reeling, he squeezes his eyes shut and grasps blindly for something to hold on to. Clint and Bruce jump to support him from either side, exchanging a worried look over his head.

“Let’s just get back to the safehouse, alright?” Clint says to Tony. “We’ll find a way to contact the others and then we’ll take you to a hospital.”

Tony nods and takes a deep breath before opening his eyes. “Okay,” he exhales.

They make their way back very, very slowly. Bruce is shaky and nauseous himself, his body still trying to adjust to the sudden shift back to human form, but he can’t imagine how Tony must be feeling with the fever burning him inside-out. And that’s not even to mention the dehydration and tanking blood sugar he must be experiencing. The engineer is unusually quiet and visibly dizzy. Most of his weight is resting on Clint and Bruce, but he keeps tripping over roots and fallen branches.

They’ve just made it out of the forest and can already see smoke climbing in the sky when Tony suddenly sags into Bruce. “I really don’t feel well.” His voice is almost indiscernible. “I might - I, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“We’re nearly there,” Bruce reassures, his heart beating fast in his chest. “Can you see the light?”

“I see lights everywhere,” Tony moans, still stumbling along. “Fine, but if I conk out, don’t leave me here to be eaten by wolves.”

“There are hardly any wolves in Arkansas,” Clint points out, but even he looks concerned.

Tony is barely conscious by the time they reach what is left of the house. Most of it has burnt down, with only one of the exterior walls still left standing. Smoke is curling up from the ruins, making them all cough and their eyes water.

“Oh god,” Bruce whispers, imagining the state his friends would be in if Clint hadn’t gotten them out so quickly that morning.

Clint just shrugs. “Could be worse.” He gently extricates himself from Tony’s arm around his shoulder. “I’ll check whether it’s safe - stay here for now,” he orders as he starts to climb into the ruins.

Bruce turns his face to Tony. “Hey, you still with me?” he asks.

The only answer is a grunt. Tony’s face is sweaty and even paler than before, his breaths coming out fast and shallow. He seems to be having difficulty focusing his eyes on Bruce.

Luckily Clint returns a minute later, towing a smoking mattress behind him. “Whatever is left of the bedroom and bathroom is safe to enter, but I wouldn’t sleep there - the fumes are bad. Let’s just camp out here for now.” He set the mattress down next to Tony.

“Can we get in touch with the others?” Bruce asks.

“Yep. Found my phone - it’s still working.” Clint holds up the device. Glancing at the engineer’s now closed eyes, he adds, “StarkTech has its perks, but don’t let Tony know. You should get settled. I’ll fetch us some water.” He turns to climb back into the building.

“Good news - you can rest here until the others come,” Bruce addresses Tony, slowly lowering him down.

“Hmm. Heard what Clin’ said…” Tony slurs.

“Yes, that’s great. Now lie down.”

Tony curls up on the still-smoking mattress with a little shiver that evokes a sudden instinct of protectiveness in Bruce. It’s odd; that feeling is usually left to the Hulk’s spectrum of emotions, and if anything, Tony would typically be the one to protect his friend should the need arise. Bruce shakes his head to clear the thoughts, but the warmth in his chest stays.

The blankets are beyond saving, but Bruce finds one of his sweaters that’s still mostly intact and drapes it over Tony’s form, calming the shivers running through him.

Clint returns with a bucket of water and an empty plastic bottle to fill, more clothes, and a partially-melted bottle of Tylenol for Bruce that he accepts gratefully. He would prefer an IV in order to get Tony rehydrated and lower the fever, but they’ve got to make do with what they have.

Bruce takes two pills himself and then sets to rouse the engineer while Clint tries to call Natasha.

“Hey, Tony,” Bruce lightly shakes the other man’s shoulder. “Take some meds, then you can rest more.”

“Mhh…” Tony blinks up at him miserably. His eyes are wide and glazed over from fever, and his breaths are still coming heavily.

“Come on.” Bruce supports his friend’s head while Tony swallows the painkillers and a few sips of water.

“Ugh.” A shudder runs through Tony and he swallows thickly. “Feel sick.”

“I know. Just try to keep it down, okay? It will help with the fever.” Bruce wets his sleeve with a bit of water and wipes it gently over Tony’s forehead and his cheeks, cleaning away the sweat. Tony grimaces against the nausea, but then he seems to relax a little into Bruce’s touch. He closes his eyes and sinks back onto the mattress, curling tighter into himself.

“Roger. Talk to you later,” Clint says and ends the call. He turns to Bruce. “It was a series of orchestrated attacks on the team. Nobody was seriously injured, if you don’t count Nat’s broken ribs and Cap’s burnt eyebrow, but SHIELD’s in chaos and it will take them a few hours to get to us.”

“Ah. Okay, that’s fine.” Bruce feels the adrenaline slowly wearing off, leaving only fatigue. He takes a few sips of water himself before handing the bottle to Clint and sinking down onto the edge of Tony’s mattress.

“Are you okay?” Clint asks.

“Yeah,” Bruce replies, “Just… tired. And, you know, glad we didn’t die.”

“Ditto.” Clint grins. “You should lie down with Tony until the cavalry arrives. I’ll keep watch and alert you in case anything happens.”

“Are you sure?” Bruce asks. Hulk-outs always leave him completely wiped out and his usual routine after missions is to tumble into bed immediately and sleep for at least a day. Being horizontal sounds incredibly tempting, but he feels bad leaving all the work to Clint. “I could stay up with you…”

“It’s okay. Trust me, this isn’t even close to the amount of stress of the average SHIELD mission.”

“Oh. Well, then…” Bruce trails off, unsure what to do with that information. It’s somehow simultaneously reassuring and concerning. “Just wake me up if anything happens, okay?”

“Sure.”

By the time Bruce has gently shifted Tony so that he can fit next to him on the mattress, Clint has already started a campfire. Tony doesn’t fully wake up when Bruce lies down next to him, just murmurs something unintelligible and then buries his head in the shoulder of Bruce’s hoodie.

Tony is still far too hot, but between the engineer’s fever and the campfire, Bruce gets pleasantly warmed up. Usually, Bruce has a hard time falling asleep around people, and never in a million years would he have thought it could happen in the aftermath of an attack on his life, but somehow, with Tony essentially cuddling him from behind and Clint watching over them, he feels safer than at most places he ever stayed at before joining their little band of misfits. Watching the flames, it only takes him a few minutes to doze off.

Once he is sure that both men are sound asleep, Clint settles down cross-legged next to the campfire, and pulls out his phone. Then, smiling softly, he takes another photo.

______________

All my fics

Taglist: @toomuchtoread33 @yepokokfine

@badthingshappenbingo - This is the prompt fill for the square “Kick them while they’re down”.

#sick tony #tony!whump #sickfic #avengers family #clint barton #tony stark #bruce banner #fever #vomiting #fluff #mission fic #more like an involuntary mission but okay #clint barton's underwear #snark and banter

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ofstaffs · 6 years

Text

rerek 2

rey rey immediately stepped away, a heartbroken expression taking over her already distraught features. derek clearly didn't trust them together. she didn't want him to be mad at her anymore. instead she backed up even more before stumbling towards where derek had gone, eventually finding him by the bar. "what did i do now?" she asked tiredly, still not able to look into his eyes.

Derek: It had nothing to do with trust or distrust and everything to do with the fact that even after proposing, even after promising his entire life to her, it still wasn't good enough - Rey had purposely kept their engagement from Steve and had acted like she was delivering both regretful and bad news when she'd told him. There were still feelings there, and it killed him that they were so obvious. He shook his head in response to Rey's question, arms crossed over his chest and not looking at her. "Are you in love with him?" he asked, voice distraught and confused, but not accusatory, more upset than blaming. "Because if you are, just get it out of the way now. Just tell me."

rey rey closed her eyes slowly then inhaled a slow, deep breath, letting it out as she managed to bring her exhausted eyes up to his own, though her hands were still clutching fearfully at the skirt of her dress. "no..." she whispered truthfully with an even tone. "are there still feelings there? yes. will i ever act on them? absolutely not. i didn't tell him because i didn't want to upset him on his wedding night, but that didn't go so well. anything else?" she raised one eyebrow then crossed her arms in return, trying to match his own firmness, though it was more adorable than anything.

rey joined the chat 26 hours ago

Derek: Ugh sorry we're figuring out how to get home

rey: haha its oka

rey: y

rey: ill be here

Derek: Derek wasn't sure he believed her, and he hated himself for it. It was just on the tip of his tongue to ask her - quite harshly, really - if Steve's /wife/ knew about their feelings for each other, but he swallowed the words down and sighed a hard breath out through his nose instead, ducking his head and taking more deep breaths to steady himself. He didn't want to fight. He was so tired of fighting. He couldn't comprehend what it must be like to love someone without complications. "Are you ready to go home?" he asked, voice matching the challenge that had been in Rey's. Apparently he hadn't quite gotten out of the clear; but at least he'd gotten away from talking about Steve.

rey rey just gave a single nod and tightened her sweater around herself before tilting her chin up then turning and walking away without waiting for him, trying her best to look defiant. but it wasn't really working. she stopped in place and looked around before ducking her head then quickly moving back to him, grasping onto his arm. "i-i don't know which way to go from here," she admitted sheepishly, voice lacking the stubbornness it'd contained before.

rey: ✍

rey: WHY DID THAT HAPPEN AGAIN JFC

Derek: Derek finished his beer and set his glass down then turned back to Rey-... Who seemed to have walked off without him. He rolled his eyes - if she was going to get defensive and irritated by his completely justifiable concern about her feelings for and relationship with another man, she was within her right to do that. But it didn't mean that he had to put up with it. He followed behind a ways, hesitantly approaching when she stopped. It surprised him when she took his arm, and he looked at her for a long quiet moment before continuing on, arm in arm with her down the road.

Derek: Lol no idea. It's funny

rey rey's stomach was still churning. it had been since the confrontation with ben and steve, and she knew it was all thanks to the exhilaration. she wrapped one arm around her front and continued to hold on tightly to his arm as they walked, though she was staring up at him sadly. they were well out of the meadow by the time she finally spoke up. "...i'm sorry i made you mad, derek... i promise i'll try to stop feeling this way about steve... i just want to make you happy," she murmured as if it were the most simple concept in the world then tucked her head against his arm and looked forward again.

Derek: Derek didn't mind silence. He was wondering what was going through Rey's mind the entire time, but he didn't much feel like talking, nevermind about everything that had happened, whether tonight or ever. "It's fine," he said passively, not really sounding like he meant it. "I just don't want to think about it anymore." He was going to put another ring on her finger and promise her his life, his whole world, and she couldn't even promise him her entire heart. Sighing, he turned them down another street in the direction of the apartments.

rey rey looked up swiftly again as she caught his tone, cheeks immediately paling. without even thinking about it, tears filled her eyes as her lip began to tremble, but she quickly faced away from him before he could see, even though she knew he'd probably find out anyway. still the nausea increased, especially due to his hollow, empty words. slowly, she stopped in place, letting her arm slip from his, as she turned her back to him completely, hand clasping over her mouth. she didn't know what would come out: a sob or sickness, so she just leaned over slightly and kept her hand over her mouth, hating the way they were acting.

Derek: Derek stopped when Rey did, brows furrowed as he watched her turn away and then curl into herself - he'd seen her fold in on herself when she was upset, but he felt that this had come on so quickly. He touched her arm as he stepped up next to her, surreptitiously pulling the pain as he looked at her face. Nausea swept through him, making him queasy for a minute. "What's wrong?"

Derek: I wish this fuxking thing notifications

rey rey glanced to the side just enough to see black running up his veins, and immediately pushed his hand off, shaking her head swiftly. "no..." she whined, not wanting him to do that for her. she deserved it. she'd made him unhappy and this was what she got for it. she stood up straight and moved in front of him, taking small gasps of breath. "i-i'm s-...." sick? sorry? "...s-scared of you leaving, don't leave, please..." she begged through her tears, holding her hand over her mouth again as she looked fearfully up into his eyes.

rey: on a computer it does

rey: it has sound notifications

rey: but i reply fast haha

Derek: "I'm scared of you leaving, too!" Derek pointed out with no small amount of irony and exasperation in his voice. "I'm scared of you cheating on me, I'm scared of you not being happy with me, I'm scared of you leaving me for him." His shoulders were rising and falling whxg as he spoke. "But that's what love is! That's what being with someone you care about is like! Constantly worrying that they're gonna find someone better than you, someone they deserve, because you want the best for them!" He ran both hands through his hair, looking just shy of pacing. "I'm not going anywhere! Jesus Christ, Rey. You think I'd give you my mother's ring and then leave because of shit with Steve? I'd never give him the satisfaction."

rey: yeet i hope this turns into fluff soon

Derek: It will

Derek: also

Derek: I am so so sleepy

Derek: *rapidly JFC were my she's even open when I typed that

Derek: EYES

Derek: FUCK ME

rey rey gasped sharply when he shouted, stumbling back immediately and clasping both hands over her mouth, as her jaw dropped. she just stared at him in disbelief as her tears continued to fall, stepping back again. what had happened to them? they'd been so happy in paris, and then suddenly... it seemed as if something had snapped. she'd never act on the extremely minor feelings she had for steve. derek had to know that. but obviously he didn't. "i'm sorry..." she sobbed helplessly and stumbled back yet again, not knowing what else she could do to make him not yell at her anymore. "p-please stop..."

rey: i hate timezones ugh

rey: ill be 3 hours ahead of you when you get back ;/

Derek: Ugh fuck that

rey: but ill stay up 4 u i promise

Derek: I'm so sorry I've been conking out so early. My mom fucking runs me ragged. I usually only walk like half a mile a day just in everyday life and we've done like 7, in shitty shoes, in the heat the past couple of days. I'm so wrecked.

rey: it's okay bb

rey: ill probs just re-read old rerek threads rip

Derek: He did stop, his chest rising and falling with the harshness of his breathing as he looked at her. He'd scared her, badly, and he hated himself for it. He just hadn't know how else to get out those feelings, to make her understand them. "I'm sorry," he mittered, turning to the curb and dropping down to sit, elbows on his knees and his head hung. He just wanted to be happy. He just wanted them to be happy.

rey as derek sat on the curb, rey felt a massive urge to make herself feel smaller than him, so she took a seat on the road where she had been standing and tucked her knees to her chest. she buried the lower half of her face in her kneecaps and stared down at the asphalt beneath her, crying silently to herself. she didn't want to be afraid... but when he yelled like that... nothing terrified her more. even snoke. even being alone on jakku for fifteen more years.

rey was timed out 12 hours ago

rey joined the chat 2 hours ago

Derek joined the chat 31 minutes ago

rey: rip they just arrested derek im so emo

Derek: womp

Derek: He looks so good in that scene tho

rey: he rly does

rey: the beard makes all the difference lbr

Derek: tru it makes him look so much older

rey: i love it

Derek: Derek hid his face in his hands; he didn't want to be angry about this anymore. He didn't want to feel frusrated with and upset at Rey, and he hated the way she seemed so scared of him, like she genuinely believed he would hurt her. He never would. He'd never raise a hand against her. He clenched his eyes shut as he took deep breaths to steady himself before he could get up and approach Rey, crouching down next to her and hesitantly, gently, touching her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, leaning in towards her. "I'm sorry I shouted. I'm just.... Frustrated. I want our relationship to be symmetrical and it doesn't feel that way, and that's hard for me to deal with. But I love you - more than anything, Rey - and nothing is going to change that. Ever."

rey rey couldn't help but duck away slightly when derek placed his hand on her shoulder, wincing softly, but took slow, deep breaths and wiped at her eyes then finally looked up into his, her worry evident. more tears fell as he spoke, and she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion slightly. "you-you do...?" she whispered, tone genuinely surprised. she really was scared that he'd stopped loving her simply because of this stupid steve problem. something she couldn't help. she thought being honest about it would be better, that he'd help her get over him, but it had all backfired. "i-i love you s-so much... so much..."

Derek: "Of course I do," he said, a note of bemusement in his tone. As if something like this could just erase the entirety of their relationship, erase everything he loved so much about her. He found her left hand, holding it up between them. "I thought I made that clear when I made this particular promise." He cradled her face in his hand, looking into her eyes as he spoke. "I love you too. More than I think you realize." He wondered if she understand just how much proposing meant to him. "Can we go home now? I'm ready to just lay down with you."

rey rey's eyes drifted to her finger as more tears dripped down her cheeks, though she smiled shakily at the sight of the beautiful ring. then she met his eyes again and nodded. "y-yeah..." she whispered in agreement and wiped at her eyes again before taking his hands and standing slowly, still feeling somewhat off. "how about a massage?" she suggested with a small chuckle. the last one had just felt so darn good. "but this time i'll return the favor... i promise."

Derek: "Hey, there it is," Derek said warmly when she smiled, brushed over her cheek with the back of his thumb. "There you are." He kissed her forehead before helping her up, lacing their fingers together. "I'm more than happy to give you a massage," Derek said. "You deserve one. And I'd love one if you're up to it, but if you're not that's okay, too." He guided her by the hand around to his back, offering to give her a piggy back ride like he had after their first kiss.

rey "stop..." rey chuckled shyly when he commented on her smile, immediately turning her head away and biting her lip, though she was only smiling wider. he was too perfect. "of course i'm up for it," she replied and nodded, then giggled when he led her behind his back. she knew immediately what he was offering, so she laughed softly before carefully climbing onto his back, as if jumping would hurt him. "remember after the movie...? you gave me a ride home on your back," she chuckled, arms winding around his neck.

Derek: "As I recall," Derek said primly, "you loved it." He hooked his arms under her legs and bounced her a little so she'd move up his back into a more comfortable position. He started them back on the path home, not much of the walk remaining at that point. "You trust me?" he asked as they approached the staircase of the building that led up to their apartment.

rey "i did," rey admitted in a soft chuckle, hiding the lower half of her face in the back of his shoulder as she stared up at him. she let him readjust her on his back, complying willingly, and looked up again as they approached the staircase. her head quickly snapped towards him and she just paused before giggling nervously and holding onto him tighter. "always."

Derek: "Good. Take my hand." He held his right arm up, hand offered out to her. "And no matter what, don't let go, okay? And when I say so, just let go of everything else. Like you're jumping off. Got it?" Once her grip was sure, he gave her a, "Go!" and swung her around his body, landing her securely in his arms in a bridal carry.

rey rey quirked an eyebrow at him but slid her hand into his with a somewhat excited chuckle, keeping her grip tight. "okay..." she laughed nervously and raised her eyebrows before jumping off when he told her to, unsure of what to expect. but when she landed in his arms, she paused then began to laugh again, burying her face in her hands. "oh my goodness, that was so fun!"

Derek: Derek grinned, pleased that she'd enjoyed the little trick, and adjusted his arms slightly before heading up the stairs. "I thought you might like it," he said as they came to their landing and he fished out his keys.

rey "i always like when you carry me," rey giggled. it was true. she'd never get tired of it. when they approached the door, she turned her head to face it, but kept her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers combing through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Derek: "I noticed," Derek chuckled, carefully guided them through the door and making sure not to bump her into anything. He closed the door with his foot and carried her down the hall to their room, setting Rey down before climbing onto the bed next to her and laying on his side facing towards her.

rey rey turned her head forward again once they'd disappeared into the bedroom, smiling softly to herself. it smelled like his cologne. perfect. once he had laid her down, she kicked off her heels then curled up into a tight ball, the skirt of her dress curtaining over her legs. "you look so handsome..." she breathed out, reaching her fingers up to trace his cheekbone. "wow..."

Derek: "I look exactly the same way I did before I left for work," Derek chuckled, turning into her touch a little as he kept his eyes on hers. But he understood the sentiment - every time he went without seeing her for long, he always felt struck by how beautiful she was. "I've been looking forward to seeing you since I left."

rey rey shook her head, an adoring smile on her lips. "no... no, you always look this handsome," she whispered, dragging her thumb slowly over his lips and scooting closer as he spoke again. she smiled again and nodded her head, laying her hands in his own. "you're pretty much all of my impulse control, i think that's obvious by now... i can't get through one wedding without fighting with someone," she chuckled.

Derek: Derek hummed noncommittally as he puckered his lips just slightly, enough to press a semblance of a kiss to Rey's thumb. His arm wound around her waist, pulling her even closer until he could slip a leg between hers. "There... there was a lot going on. There's been a lot going on," he said, shrugging slightly. "You're stressed out. All that emotion's gotta come out somehow."

rey rey wrapped both of her legs around one of his and nodded in agreement, letting out a heavy sigh. "yeah..." she murmured, dragging a hand through her hair then resting it on top of her head as she closed her eyes. "yeah, i really am..." she'd never really stepped back and glanced at all her problems as a whole; always just focused on one at a time. but the list went on and on, now that she thought about it.

Derek: "We'll just... we'll find a better way for you to deal with it before it gets to that point," he said quietly, taking one of her hands and bringing it up to his mouth to gently kiss her knuckles. "At least there weren't any drink hoses involved this time," he chuckled, then laced their fingers together. "Have you, uh... have you thought about when? A date? For the wedding?"

rey rey smiled bashfully at his joke, holding his hand tightly, but easing up on her grip more and more as she relaxed. talking about the wedding made it even better. "i'm guessing tomorrow's out of the question," she teased, though she'd actually do it. she just wanted to be his wife as soon as possible. "when's the soonest we can do it? because i want to do it the day before that," she laughed softly.

Derek: Derek actually laughed out loud at that, smiling as he rolled onto his back, looking at the ceiling. "Tomorrow is out of the question," he said, "I don't think even Lydia would be able to get everything together in time." He pulled her hand over to play with her fingers. "Usually engagements are around six months long. It takes a lot of planning to put a wedding together..." He knew that wasn't what she wanted to hear, but he felt it needed to be said.

rey rey felt her jaw drop. literally. /six months/? but immediately she froze, remembering the ridicule she faced the last time for trying to rush something. "o-okay," she choked out, trying not to sound as disappointed as she actually felt. she didn't need a big wedding. she didn't care if it was just them two and someone to officiate. she didn't care. she just wanted to be married to him. but she bit the inside of her cheek and rolled over onto her back, though she let him keep her hand. her left hand, ironically enough.

Derek: "I know it's a long time," Derek said, rolling back onto his side when he felt her roll away, still holding onto her hand and playing idly with the ring on her finger. "And I know you don't want to wait. At this point.... at this point I don't really see the point, either. So we could expedite things, I'm sure. I just want everything... to be perfect. To be exactly what we want. I'm only planning on doing this once."

rey rey looked up at him when he rolled back onto his side next to her, releasing her teeth from the inside of her cheek and instead biting her bottom lip gently. a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips before she took a deep inhale then mumbled, "i know you do... but... i've lived my whole life without luxury. fifteen of those twenty years were spent with even less than a normal amount of wealth. i don't care about how many flowers there are or-or what colors the plates will be... all i care about is being your wife." but she shook her head, tugging at the hem of her shirt. "but-but if you want to wait... i can do that."

Derek: "I know you haven't," Derek said gently. It had been a topic of considerable discussion, and it was almost constantly on his mind when it came to caring for Rey, whether it was making her comfortable or buying her things or making sure she ate enough in a day. "So I... you can't blame me for wanting to celebrate us to the greatest extent that anyone in this town has ever seen." He leaned in and kissed her gently, pouring as much love and sincerity into the gesture as he could. "But I know it's important to you. we could shoot for three months?"

rey rey sniffed softly but kissed him back lovingly, placing her hand on his cheek. at the suggestion of three months, she just let out a shaky exhale but shrugged her shoulders and rolled over onto her stomach. "take my dress off...?" she whispered, face burying into the pillow. it was tight and pinchy, as much as she loved it. plus she still wanted that massage.

Derek: He could tell that it still wasn't good enough - unless he actually married her within the month, he doubted anything would be. But he knew that these things took time - they might be able to manage two months, if Derek wanted to pay an exorbitant amount for everything. The food, the decorations, the cake, the venue, the dresses, the suits, the photographer, the music... it would all take time. He quietly worked on the small clasp at the top of Rey's dress, then unzipped it all the way down to her lower back, carefully guiding her arms out of the sleeves before he pulled it down her body and off her legs gingerly.

rey rey couldn't help herself as she curled her toes into the sheets when he unzipped her dress. occasionally his fingers would ghost over her back or thighs and her heart rate would increase. which she knew he'd pick up on. once it was off, she stayed face down, but slowly tilted her head up to look at him, brown eyes full of love and passion. the pendant of her necklace had somehow slipped down the chain so that it now laid on her back in the exact same position as his tattoo. the moonlight reflected off the silver material of it, and it slid down her shoulder blade as she shifted on the sheets. "...how is it done...?"

Derek: Derek hummed quietly when Rey turned to look at him, fingers gently touching the pendant of her necklace where it sat on her back, a delicate mimicry of his own mark there. "How is what done?" he asked quietly, fingers ghosting over her back and the backs of her thighs.

rey rey stared down at the comforter, hands slowly sliding up to clasp lightly above her head, resting on the pillow. like usual. like they loved. as his fingers trailed over her skin, she began panting lightly, toes curling up again. she took another few moments before finally whispering, "how do you turn someone into a werewolf...?"

Derek: Derek's brows furrowed, a little crease appearing between them as he looked at her, hands faltering for a moment before they resumed their path, thumbs rubbing into Rey's shoulders and down her back in looping circles. "Usually it's done with a bite," he said slowly, "but people can be turned by a scratch that goes deep enough, too."

rey rey swallowed thickly and clenched her jaw, eyes slowly falling shut. his touch was irresistibly enchanting. "and you can only be turned by an alpha..." she whispered, quirking a brow then slowly returning it to its usual spot. her words were becoming breathier, more quiet, as his fingers traveled more places around her body. "...can you turn someone...?"

Derek: "Right," Derek said, fingers curling around her sides to knead over her hips, her stomach, inching up towards her ribcage. "Not anymore," he said. "I was able to, once. I turned Erica, Isaac, and Boyd. They were my betas."

rey rey hesitated before rolling over to lay on her back, gently tugging him down to meet her level. she brushed her fingers across his lips before pausing then whispering, "you want me to be safe... to be able to look out for myself..." she moved her hand down to his and dragged it up her body, taking a bit more time at her chest, before resting it on her cheek. "being like you would keep me safe."

Derek: "Of course I do," Derek said quietly, then froze, frowning a little when Rey implied that... that what? She wanted to be turned? "What? No, Rey, it's not... it's /really/ not that simple," he said, sitting up a bit, confused by what she was doing. "It's so easy to lose control when you first shift," he explained, "you could seriously hurt someone. Hurt yourself. There are people, Rey, who /hunt us/. Just because of what we are. I don't want that for you. Ever."

rey rey shook her head, purposefully averting her gaze from his. she knew there were hunters. they were in magnolia. and three of them were her best friends. not like derek knew that. "i-i could protect myself. you've done it so far, why can't i?" she asked shakily, bringing her hands down to rest over her chest. "you-you wouldn't have to worry about hurting me on the full moon. you wouldn't have to panic each time i don't answer my phone when you're at work. i-i could heal, i could fight better."

Derek: "Because I've been doing this all my life," he said desperately, wishing he could remove the thoughts from her head surgically, completely eradicate them so they'd never appear again. "You can protect yourself right now." He rubbed his eyes. "I'd have to worry about /you/ hurting someone on the full moon!" He couldn't argue with the healing or the fighting, but he didn't want to acknowledge that. "I don't know if you'd still be able to use the Force after the shift."

rey "you told me scott became in control when he was around allison. she helped him stay calm," rey whispered, placing a hand on his cheek. "derek, it could work for us... i know it could..." she shook her head and bit her lip, letting out a heavy sigh. "i don't care if i can't use it anymore. i don't care. i don't care if i have to go against alec when he's hun-" uh oh. immediately rey clasped her hands over her mouth, her eyes widening. "n-nothing..."

Derek: "That took him a while," he said, "and not everyone's anchor is the same thing." He shook his head lightly as she insisted that it could work. He didn't want this for her. He could do it for her in the first place, and he would refuse to tell her who could. His eyebrows lifted when Rey cut herself off, shaking his head again but this time for an entirely different reason. "I know Alec's a hunter," he said. "I met his sister before I met him, and she told me all about it. He told me that he doesn't hunt anything that doesn't deserve it. Including werewolves."

rey rey let out a deep breath of relief, able to snap back into her normal state of mind. at least she hadn't said dean or sam's name. she sat them both up then climbed into his lap, hair curtaining over her face as she panted heavier now. she didn't need derek's senses to tell that her heart was pounding. she could feel it against her chest. "i'm sorry..." she whispered at the ridiculousness of the whole idea. she wouldn't last a second as a werewolf. she knew that. "i-i'm not in my right mind..."

Derek: Derek sat up, hands on her waist as Rey settled into his lap, his head tipping to the side as he tried to look at her through her hair. He pushed it back behind her ears after a few moments, concern in his expression as he cradled her face. "Are you okay?" he asked, her heart pounding and her breathing coming rapid and shallow. "What's going on?"

rey too much. too much was going on. almost losing derek had just been what set it all off. but one thing... one thing had stuck with her. slowly, she tilted her head up to look into his eyes. "i spoke with lydia..." she whispered, eyebrows raising just slightly, though her fingers found his shirt to play with the material again. "she told me... she told me about your uncle... a-and i can't stop thinking about it..."

Derek: It felt like he'd swallowed a gallon of ice water when Rey said that she'd spoken to Lydia about Peter. Peter, of all people. He doubted Lydia took care to explain the nuances and difficulties of the situation. "What did she tell you?" he asked slowly, hands resting lightly on Rey's hips, as if afraid to touch her, afraid that she'd tell him not to touch her.

rey "she said... she said he controlled her... m-made her bring him back from the dead without her actually wanting to..." rey remembered, staring down at the sheets beneath them and furrowing her eyebrows, exterior softening as his hands rested on her hips. any time he touched her brought her comfort, but right now, she wanted to feel him as much as possible. "and that... she doesn't know where he is..."

Derek: "He did..." Derek said, uncertain as to whether or not Lydia had pointed out that Derek had been on the one to kill him in the first place. He was ready to justify it, to tell Rey that he'd been killing people and had no intention of stopping, but that didn't seem to be her concern. "And... no, we don't know where he is right now... Probably off licking his wounds after his last failed grab at power. But if he ever does find me, find us, I'm not going to let anything happen to you. He's not going to hurt you. I won't let him."

rey rey smiled sorrowfully, her eyes falling shut. "how do you always know what i'm thinking...?" she whispered. it felt selfish, being afraid of peter. because if he came, he'd only be out for derek. but after searching lydia's mind for memories of peter... she hadn't been able to get his vicious actions out of her mind. even now, looking into derek's memories, she saw him getting hit, getting hurt by his uncle, and it made her sick to her stomach to think of that ever happening again. she wouldn't let it. "i-i can fight him, he can't do anything against a lightsaber..."

Derek: "It's not going to come to that," Derek promised, wrapping his arms around her torso and pulling her against his chest, tucking her head under his chin. "It's not. I promise." He cradled the back of her head in one large hand, thumb stroking over her hair. "I'd never let you fight him, okay? He's too... manipulative, too willing to get into people's heads, under their skin. He'd find out all your weaknesses and use them against you, and I'd die before I let that happen."

rey rey let herself be coddled and soothed, resting both her arms against his chest. the air was cold, and she was fully unclothed, but derek's natural body heat kept her feeling warm and safe. as it always did. as he spoke about her weaknesses, she clenched her fists slightly in fear. she knew her main weakness: derek himself. if he was ever to be hurt, she couldn't fight and take that risk. and she was pretty sure it was the same way for him, too. "i-i don't want to talk about it anymore..." she whispered for the second time that night.

Derek: "Okay," Derek agreed easily, ducking his head to hide his face in her neck. He could tell she was scared - he didn't need her senses to know that - and he felt... nervous that he'd never considered the possibility that Peter could find them. Could ruin everything they'd built. "We don't have to." He rubbed his hand up and down her back, from the nape of her neck to the dip of her spine, reveling in the simple pleasure that he could touch her, that she was there... and she wasn't going anywhere.

rey rey nodded, feeling reassured by his gentle, steady tone. either he was good at hiding his emotions (which she knew to be true) or he really wasn't worried about his uncle. not daring to look into his mind again in fear of more memories of peter, rey simply glanced up and into his eyes, not knowing what else to say. so she did the only thing she really wanted to do. her hands slid up to tangle in his hair as she leaned up and kissed him, softly at first.

Derek: He kept her wrapped up in his arms as he kissed her, holding her as closely as possibly as her hands wound through his hair. He kissed her gently, reassuringly - trying to convey as much as possible that she didn't have anything to worry about, that he was going to protect her. He cradled her face in his hands, thumbs gently brushing over her cheeks as their kiss gradually deepened.

rey while he deepened the kiss, rey slowly leaned back more and more until she was laying flat on the bed, him hovering above her. she ran her hands down his back until her fingers found the hem of his shirt, which she tugged up and up until eventually it was off, then tossed it aside. her leg slowly moved to brush up his then back down as she nipped at his bottom lip then kissed him again.

Derek: Derek was reluctant to pull away from her for even a moment, but he sat up enough for her to pull off his shirt before stretching out over her again, resting his weight on one hand. The other he let smooth over her skin, over her stomach and up to her chest, his thumb ghosting circles over her nipple only just long enough to make it hard before his fingers were trailing downwards again.

rey when his fingers found her chest, rey tilted her chin up and gasped hoarsely, letting his lips land on her neck. she took a quick, deep breath then set her legs on either side of his body, though she brought them up so her feet were flat on the bed, toes curling into the sheets. but she brought her hands down to unbutton then slowly push down his pants and boxers at the same time. once they were off, she moved her hands up to clasp above her head, and found his lips again.

Derek: "We are going to have to get up eventually," Derek chided with a laugh, pushing back Rey's hair from her face as she rested on his chest, his fingers brushing up and down her spine. He didn't really want to move, either, but a shower and food were in order. "C'mon," he prompted, squeezing one of her hips gently and rocking his body back and forth in an attempt to get her moving. "Let's go."

rey "nooo..." rey groaned under her breath as derek said they'd have to get up. she turned so her cheek was resting against his chest, rather than burying her entire face in it, and winced silently when he squeezed her hip, one of her most ticklish areas. but she was shocked awake and opened her eyes, a small smile forming on her lips. she was so relaxed after they'd finished making love, and he'd just cuddled her for what felt like hours, though she knew it was only about twenty minutes or so. "fine," she sighed in defeat and moved off his chest, but held her arms up to him once he was standing, and giggled tiredly.

Derek: "Yesssss," Derek groaned right back at her, laughing a little when she didn't do much responding other than to move her face. "C'mon. If we don't get up now, we never will, you know that." He stretched, arms extending over his head and legs flexing and toes curling before he half-rolled, half-climbed off the bed. "Oh my god," he laughed when he saw her summoning him down to pick her up. Despite the complaint he still complied, bending over to let her arms around his neck as he lifted her up to hold her against his front. "You're so spoiled," he muttered as he carried her off to the bathroom, leaning over to start the shower without putting her down, instead pressing her up against the wall and letting his lips find her collarbone, already marked but still enticing.

rey "derek..." rey groaned but giggled when he picked her up, wrapping her arms around his neck. she loved being carried like this, no matter what. it allowed them to still be so close after intimate moments such as the one they just shared. "i know, but you're not gonna stop..." she mumbled against his skin as she closed her eyes again, chuckling softly. they were both sweaty and warm, so the shower would definitely feel good. but when he pressed her back against the wall, she lifted her head up with a quiet gasp, then let her eyes fall shut when his lips found her collarbone. the marks there weren't deep, but she'd need to cover them up with makeup tomorrow, she was sure of it. she winced softly, feeling the pit of her stomach tighten with ecstasy again, and took deep breaths, head falling back gently against the wall. "not again..." she whispered. she didn't know if she had it in her, really.

Derek: Derek hummed noncommittally into her skin when she teased him; he'd never stop spoiling her as long as he lived, he knew that with certainty, and apparently so did she. He couldn't blame her for taking advantage of it, especially when he loved it so much. "Wasn't gonna," he replied just as quietly into the skin of her throat, nose brushing along the softness of it, lips dragging a long line as his stubble scraped over it gently. His hands gripped her thighs, thumbs rubbing into the crease where they met her torso before sliding back to hold her up by her ass. "As much as I wish I could." He found her mouth again and kissed her until they were both out of breath, their skin warm and he could feel a heat low in his belly, that endless desire he always harbored for her. But he let her down, feet lightly stepping to the floor before he held his hand out to help her into the shower.

rey as his thumbs massaged into her skin, rey winced again and bit down on her lip, flexing her feet slightly as they rested against his back. again she breathed steadily until his hands moved to her behind, one of her favorite places where he touched her. she nodded in agreement then kissed him back, holding onto his hair gently, and felt that itching sensation creep up her body once she was on her feet. her legs pressed together tightly and she leaned over just a bit to recover, knowing how easy it was for her to become aroused. but then she took his hand and shuffled into the shower, letting the water cool her down both internally and externally. she stood so her back was pressed to his chest then slowly reached an arm up to loop around his neck, eyes closing and lips parting. "that's better..."

Derek: He could have touched her like this forever, no boundaries or secrets between them; he knew she got overwhelmed quickly, whether it was his hands or his mouth or any other part of him, and there were definitely times he played that to his advantage. But he let her recover once she had her feet on the ground, mouth trying (and failing) to quash a please little smirk behind her back. He sidled in behind her, hands smoothing down her sides and the fronts of her thighs, not intended to be sexual but celebratory, reveling in her and the fact that she was his. "I love you," he said quietly, head bowed to press his lips to her shoulder, light, worshiping. "I love you so much..."

rey a smile formed on her lips as she felt his hands travel down her hips to her thighs, and whispered, "i love you with all my heart..." it wasn't hard to, with how amazingly perfect he was. she still didn't feel like she deserved him, and probably never would. "it hurts less this time," she murmured, opening her eyes to look up at him. the first time had been pretty painful, even with how slow and gentle derek was, since it was her first time ever experiencing anything like that. since then, it'd hurt less and less after each run, and now it was just a slight disturbance. she gathered the washcloth and lathered it up with soap before turning her body to face his then handing it over so he could wash her, as they always did after making love.

Derek: "Good!" Derek replied earnestly, pressing his lips to her cheek and nuzzling at it with his nose after. He wrapped his arms around her middle and squeezed her gently. He'd nearly stopped then and there the first time, when he sensed her discomfort and uncertainty despite taking as much time as she needed. "Think it won't hurt at all soon?" he asked quietly. It was difficult to not feel bad whenever they had sex, feel like, despite what she said, she was uncomfortable or unhappy or they were only doing it because /he/ wanted to. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind as he accepted the washcloth from her, tangling the fingers of one hand with hers as he held her arm out for him to start washing, working his way to her torso and over her chest before going on to the other arm.

rey "yeah, i do," rey smiled hopefully and gave him a nod, leaning up to peck his lips gently. she didn't need to use the force to feel the guilt stirring inside him. and she didn't like it one bit. she /wanted/ to do it, she really did, even through the pain. it was all worth it in the end, and she assumed derek didn't see that side of it. only the painful side. she stepped back just slightly so he could extend her arm to clean it, fingers dancing in his own, then watched his hand as the washcloth dragged from her shoulder to her abdomen and chest, where she had a few marks. she loved them. she watched again as he moved onto her other arm, but watched his face now instead. he was sculpted by gods, she was convinced. everything about him was so perfect. literally every little thing. "i love you..." she piped up quietly, standing on her toes for half a second before giving him a shy smile.

Derek: Derek's mouth twisted on a shy sort of smile when she said those words seemingly out of nowhere, and he ducked his head briefly, looking down at their feet before glancing back up at her. "I love you, too," he said, bringing one slightly soapy hand up to cradle her cheek, looking into her eyes as he said the words. "I can't believe you're going to marry me," he said, huffing out a chuckle as he smiled, all teeth and palpable awe. "I can't believe you're going to be Mrs. Hale." He rolled the words around on his tongue. "Rey Hale. Rey Skywalker-Hale?" He laughed a little, using the back of his hand to brush the washcloth over her stomach and hip.

rey rey laughed happily, nodding her head. she was still in shock, too, even though it had been well over a week. "just hale. i'm your family now, i don't want to be remembered just for my father and uncle and everyone else. i want to be my own person," she whispered, then smiled again. "your wife." she leaned up to peck his lips a few times then let him drag the washcloth over her stomach and waist, though she smiled a little each time his fingers brushed against her soft skin. she'd never get tired of his touch. never ever.

Derek: An easy smile tugged at Derek's lips as he leaned in close to her, pressing their lips together easily, briefly, a few times one right after the other. "It's your name just as much as it's theirs," Derek said, both hands touching her waist as he leaned in close enough to feel her breath on his face, her whisper so close that it felt loud in his ears. If they could stay this close forever, he'd die a happy man. "You are your own person, no matter what your name is." He could feel her smile against his lips as they kissed again, and he sighed contentedly when they parted, pulling her in close and resting his chin atop her head as he rubbed the washcloth over her back, and lower, to her thighs.

rey rey smiled softly and shrugged. "it's really only been my name for a few months... i've been fine being just rey before i knew. just rey..." she whispered when he leaned close to her, biting gently at her bottom lip. suddenly words weren't forming in her mind as easily, with how entrancing his gaze was. she nodded slowly, though, and kissed him back, though this one was soft and delicate. when he pulled her close, she rested her forearms against his chest and closed her eyes, though she frowned when he skipped a very important area. she took his free hand and placed it on her butt with a small giggle. "much better."

Derek: Derek's brows shot up when Rey placed his hand back on her ass, a little taken aback by the brazenness of it - a far cry from the woman who had been so uncomfortable with just being aroused a few months before. "Much better," he agreed, chuckling, and then gently passed the washcloth over her skin, humming into her neck as he pressed his face there, reveling in how comfortable it was being this close, enjoying the way they could touch each other so easily.

rey rey smiled slowly and wrinkled her nose just a bit before moving her hand up to the nape of his neck when he ducked his face into her skin, letting her eyes fall shut. slowly, her fingers ran through his hair, gently scratching his scalp in a soothing way as they went along. she remembered him saying long ago how much he loved when she did that. she turned her head just enough to press a gentle kiss to the side of his own, then rested her cheek against his hair and let out a soft sigh.

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acenancy · 7 years

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bending too far backwards to say i didn’t try

Fandom: American Gods Pairing: Mad Wife Rating: Idk, T?

AN: Anyway, I misunderstood the prompt physical hurt/comfort from an anon and wrote this for them. Like, i 100% misread the ask lmfao I’m sorry. Also, this is just kind of pointless banter? But whatever, I wrote this at work (shh) and it’s half-assed, anyway. I owe you a proper one, anon!

(ao3)

It's twenty below in Michigan and the ice cream truck's AC is blasting. Sweeney shivers in the passenger seat, body shaking, teeth chattering, glaring at Laura with enough heat it could melt the snow bank they've crashed into.

She doesn't pay him any mind. Her attention is glued to a point in the distance, to a beacon of something Sweeney has yet to see for himself. Laura calls it Shadow and love and her newfound reason for living. Sweeney calls it a pain in his ass, and that’s on the good days. On bad days, Laura pinches his lips between her fingers so hard he can't speak ill of anyone, much less her husband, for the next two weeks.

"We can walk there," says Laura, still fixated on the horizon. "It'll only take, what? 6 hours?"

"You're out of your skull if you think I'm leaving this ice cream truck to prance through a fucking blizzard."

"If we don't, we're stuck here. All night. Probably all of tomorrow. Until this snow clears. Do you get how much time we'll be wasting?"

"Oh, I get it.” Sweeney tugs the blankets swaddled around his body tighter. “I got it when you insisted your puppy needed us to go after him again,” he snarls. “I got it when you turned the air on in the dead of winter because you felt the meat sliding off your bones. I get that you have no regard for my life whatso-fucking-ever. But this, I refuse to get. Walk your six hours in this hell storm all you want, Dead Wife. I’m staying here.”

"You're such a fucking wimp," Laura sighs. She falls against the back of the driver’s seat, her fight on the backburner for now. "It's not even that cold."

"Tell that to my snowballs."

One of Laura's eyes gets stuck in its socket when she rolls them at him. Casually, she pulls it back into place with her pointer finger.

"Why are you in such a hurry this time, anyway?" asks Sweeney. "It’s not as though this is anything new. Your husband is always in trouble as long as he's Wednesday's man.”

Sweeney doesn't expect Laura to answer. Snow falls heavy against the windshield in the silence that follows, obscuring the gray winter light of day and Laura's Beacon of Bull until all they can see is a blanket of white. She does speak though, eventually, quietly. "Because I feel…a shiver."

Sweeney's eyes flicker to Laura's chest where she keeps his coin, the only thing animating her corpse.

Laura feels her bones grinding to dust; she feels her skin disintegrating like wet toilet paper and her hair whisping away; she feels the maggots and bile eating away at her organs; she feels formaldehyde sitting heavy in her veins. Not air swirling in her lungs or blood pumping from her heart or every other sensation humans take for granted.

Laura does not feel what a living person feels. Laura does not shiver.

"A shiver," Sweeney parrots, disbelieving.

"Or, like, I'm about to shiver and can't," Laura elaborates. "Like my skin is aching to shake one off."

"Are you saying you feel cold?" Sweeney slips his hand out from the pile of blankets he's buried himself beneath, pointing viciously at the AC. "Because I’ll fuckin’ tell ya why you’re cold-”

Laura turns the air off so hard she snaps the knob off the console. She throws it onto Sweeney’s lap where not even the blankets can cushion the blow to his groin.

“You bitch,” he wheezes.

“Take me seriously,” she demands. Sweeney doesn't make another peep, so Laura continues. "I know I'm feeling whatever the hell this is,” she gestures to her body as if there’s anything interesting to see other than a woman who should be six feet below the dirt, “because of Shadow. Anytime I feel anything it's because of him."

She says this simply, matter of fact; the same way you would say “alternate side parking is in effect for today.” Sweeney doesn’t think Laura realizes the weight of what she says most of the time. He does, because it sits heavy in his gut, dragging it to his knees without his permission. It feels a little like anger or disappoint or longing. Maybe it feels something like missing your chance.

Or being in love with a dead girl.

Same thing.

Sweeney clears his throat, schooling his features into some semblance of unbothered. “Okay,” he drawls, “and how do you know something bad is happening to your husband?”

“I dunno. Is shivering a good feeling or a bad feeling?”

“Uncomfortable, mostly. Are you sure your husband isn’t just a tad chilly? That he’s forgotten to close the refrigerator, perhaps?”

“It’s a bad feeling, asshole.”

“Debatable. But fine, I suppose it isn’t particularly pleasant.”

Laura’s nostrils flare. A centipede curiously pokes his head from one’s depths with the motion. Furiously, Laura yanks it out, throwing it on the floor at Sweeney’s feet. She pulls her bony legs up to her chest then, wrapping her arms around them and rolling her head to stare out the frost covered driver’s side window.

Sweeney conks his head against his headrest, cursing his immortal mortal flesh for not being able to withstand the cold for her. Then he curses Laura for making him curse himself in the first place. But as much as he loathes the notion, if he could, Sweeney would help Laura climb Mount Everest in a speedo and flip-flops if Shadow were at the top, only because she’d want to.

And it’s always about what Laura wants, isn’t it? She wants to feel again, so they go after Shadow; she wants to come back to life, so they track down the goddess of rebirth; she wants to set Salim free so they steal a fucking ice cream truck. This journey was never about helping her husband – it was about hunting him down across this American wasteland in the off-chance Shadow could make her heart beat again. Then, when Sweeney promised her resurrection, it was about finding the queen who could breathe life back into her veins. Now they’re back to square one, chasing the scraps Shadow leaves her, and it still is not about him. Laura never loved Shadow; she only loves what he does for her.

They’re both dumb fucking suckers, in Sweeney’s opinion, but he’s still the dick hanging on for the ride.

"You can go, if you gotta," Sweeney tells her. "I'll hold down the soft serve while you're gone."

"No. I'm not going to leave you," Laura tells him. Always, such heavy words thrown around light as rice at a wedding. Then, "I don't trust you won't steal my truck."

Sweeney shoots Laura a severely unimpressed side eye and catches her running hands up and down her biceps, trying and failing to rub heat into her arms. It’s not possible for her to actually be cold, he knows, but nonetheless, Sweeney finds himself staring, waiting for goose bumps to rise along her skin, for any indication she could possibly be regaining some likeness of life.

Nothing.

It’s pointless, the hoping and waiting and pretending he doesn’t long to touch her icy dead flesh, so Sweeney decides to fuck it all and hold open his blankets. “Get under if you’re so shivery,” he tells Laura, and doesn’t even bother sounding like he doesn’t want her to.

She barely spares him a glance before looking back out the window. “I’m married,” she reminds him.

“Never stopped you before.”

She snorts. “I’m dead.”

“Do I look like a fucking necrophiliac to you?”

Amusement flickering in her eyes, Laura returns her attention to him with a slick smirk.

“Don’t answer that,” snaps Sweeney. “Just get under the damn blankets.”

“I’ll only make you colder,” Laura warns him.

“You won’t,” he lies. Then, because she’s hesitating, he adds “as long as that godforsaken air conditioner stays off.”

Bored of his complaints, Laura only blinks in response. Then she climbs from her seat to his, jabbing him with her blade sharp elbows and pushing him halfway off the seat to make room for herself.

Annoyed, Sweeney huffs into her hair, ignoring the smell of death in his nose, and wraps his arms around her middle. Holding her is the equivalent of hugging a block of ice, but something in his chest heats and melts, and he’s never felt warmer in all the centuries he’s been alive.

Laura curls into him, short legs thrown across his lap, arms folded against his chest, and rest her head against his fast beating heart. She places her hand over it, staring at the spot with something like longing. “Let’s just go to sleep,” she whispers. “We have a long way to walk tomorrow.”

“Perun strike my down if I’m walking in this shit.”

Through the fabric of his shirt, Sweeney can feel Laura’s cracked lips break into a smile. He watches her veiny eyelids flutter shut against him.

“Don’t be a little bitch,” she murmurs to his heart.

#american gods #mad wife #mad wife fanfiction #american gods fanfiction #madwife #madwife fanfiction #mine

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findingaliceinadarkplace · 7 years

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Best Quotes From Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone.

“ ‘Sorry’, he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn’t seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passerby stare, ‘Don’t be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even muggles like yourself should be celebrating this happy, happy day!”. And the old man hugged Mr. Durlsley around the middle and walked off. Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was.”

“Hoping he was imagining things which he had never hoped before, because he didn’t approve of imagination”.

“’A lemon drop. They’re a kind of Muggle sweet I’m rather fond of’. ‘No, thank you’, said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn’t think this was the moment for lemon drops.”

“’It’s lucky its dark. I haven’t blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs’”.

“ there will be books written about Harry- every child in our world will know his name!’”

“’Even if I could, I wouldn’t. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground.’”

“While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things; people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank and Harry were just a few of his favourite subjects.”

“’ They stuff people’s heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall’, he told Harry. ‘Want to come upstairs and practice?’ ‘No, thanks,’ said Harry. ‘The poor toilets never had anything as horrible as your head down it- it might be sick’”.

“Harry didn’t trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh.”

“’ Oh, these people’s minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they’re not like you and me’, said Uncle Vernon, trying to knock in a nail with the piece of fruitcake Aunt Petunia had just brought him.”

“’ Do you mean ter tell me,’ he growled at the Dursleys, ‘that this boy- this boy! - knows nothin’ abou’ - about ANYTHING?’ Harry thought this was going a bit far. He had been to school after all, and his marks weren’t bad. ‘I know some things’, he said. ‘I can, you know, do math and stuff.’”

“’Funny way to get to a wizard’s school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?’”.

“’ Oh, are you a prefect, Percy?’ said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. ‘You should have said something, we had no idea.’ ‘Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it’ said the other twin. ‘Once-’ ‘Or twice-’ ‘A minute-’ ‘All summer-’.”

“ ‘Now, you two- this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you’ve- you’ve blown up a toilet or-’ ‘Blown up a toilet? We’ve never blown up a toilet’ ‘Great idea though, thanks mum.’”

“So we’ve just got to try on the hat!” Ron whispered to Harry. “I’ll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll.””

“If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for him”.

“When it finally shouted, GRYFFINDOR, Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to MacDougal, Morag”.

“Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!”

“”Ah, music,” he said, wiping his eyes. “A magic beyond all we do here””.

“Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, “GOT YOUR CONK!””

“The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick”.

“Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him”.

“At the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry’s name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight”.

“”Another Weasley, eh?” said Hagrid, glancing at Ron’s freckles. “I spent half me life chasin’ yer twin brothers away from the forest.””

“Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?” Wood? thought Harry, bewildered: was Wood a cane she was going to use on him?”

“I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can’t bend the first year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn’t look Severus Snape in the face for weeks...””

“’And what if i have my wand and nothing happens?’ ‘Throw it away and punch him on the nose’, Ron suggested.”

“ You don’t use your eyes, any of you, do you?’ she snapped. ‘Didn’t you see what it was standing on?’ ‘The floor?’ Harry suggested. ‘I wasn’t looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads.’”

“Now, the last member of the team is the seeker. That’s you. And you don’t have to worry about the Quaffle or the bludgers-’ ‘-unless they crack my head open.’ ‘Don’t worry, the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers- I mean, they’re like a pair of human bludgers themselves.’”

“From that moment on, Hermione Granger became their friend. There are some things you can’t share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.”

“’Wonder what’s wrong with this leg?’ ‘Dunno, but I hope it’s really hurting him.’ said Ron bitterly.”.

“Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides. ‘So-after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating-’ ‘Jordan!’ growled Professor McGonagall. ‘I mean, after that open and revolting foul...’ ‘Jordan, I’m warning you-’ ‘All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I’m sure”

“The lake was frozen solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban”.

“Harry played with chessmen Seamus Finnigan had lent him, and they didn’t trust him at all. He wasn’t a very good player yet, and they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, which was confusing. ‘Don’t send me there, can’t you see his knight? Send him, we can afford to lose him.’”

“Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G. ‘Harry’s is better than ours, though,’ said Fred. ‘She obviously makes more of an effort if your not family.’”

“’You haven’t got a letter on yours’ George observed. ‘I suppose she thinks you don’t forget your name. But we’re not stupid- we know we’re called Gred and Forge.’”

“Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you”.

“’Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is’”.

“’This mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible’”.

“’It does not to to dwell on dreams and forget to live’”.

“’Don’t play,’ said Hermione at once. ‘Say you’re ill,’ said Ron. ‘Pretend to break your leg,’ Hermione suggested. ‘Really break your leg,’ said Ron.”

“He’s used to walking all over people, but that’s no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier.”

“’no wonder we coulnd’t find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry,’ said Ron. ‘He’s not exactly recent if he’s six hundred and sixty-five, is he?’”

“’I’ll show them...itt’l really wipe the smiles of their faces if we win.’ ‘Just as long as we’re not wiping you off the filed,’ said Hermione.”

“’So you mean the Stone’s only safe as long as Quirrill stands up to Snape?’ said Hermione in alarm. ‘Itt’l be gone by nect Tuesday’, said Ron.”

“Harry suddenly turned to Ron. ‘Charlie.’ he said. ‘You’re losing it, too, ‘ said Ron. ‘I’m Ron, remember?’”

“’ I tell you, that dragon’s the most horrible animal I’ve ever met, but the wa Hagrid goes on about it, you’d think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby.’”

“’jus playin- he’s only a baby, after all.’ The baby banged its tal on the wall, making the windows rattle. “

“’The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenceless to save yourself, and you will have but a half life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips.’”

“’so light a fire!’ Harry choked. ‘Yes- of course- but there’s no wood!’ Hermione cried, wringing her hands. ‘HAVE YOU GONE MAD?’ Ron bellowed. ‘ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT? ‘”

“’What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic and confiscated it’”.

“’To the well organised mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all- the trouble is, human’s do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them’”.

“’Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.”

“The truth.’ Dumbledore sighed. ‘It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution’.”

“’There are all kinds of courage,’ said Dumbledore, smiling. ‘It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends.’”

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