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randomshyperson · 3 years

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The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - The Second Year

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3

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

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

Tag list ( let me know if you want to be tagged or removed idk haha) @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia

//-//

You missed the train in your second year.

You and Tony overslept after staying up late watching a television series, and Jarvis mentioned that he had to pick up some packages from your father at the Ministry of Magic, so he wasn't home to wake you up or take you two to the station.

It was already half past eleven when you both woke up.

"You lost your mind." You said to your brother as you watched him put your school luggage into the trunk of the muggle car your father had bewitched. Tony laughed, ignoring your protests.

"We can drive there, and then I'll charm the car to come back. No one will know."

"We could wait for Jarvis to come back too." You retort but Tony denies it.

"Jarvis will be at Mystery all day, you know how bureaucratic these orders from daddy are." He argues. "Come on, it'll be all right."

Things were not all right.

Tony couldn't control the car after you guys arrived on the Hogwarts grounds, since the magical barrier destabilized the entire muggle structure of the vehicle.

"That shouldn't happen." He grumbled as the car began to vibrate and its image became almost frosted before it returned to normal.

"Tony, we're falling." You said, and your brother tried to pull the steering up, but the car did not obey.

A loud noise later, and you two landed hard against a tall tree. The Whomping Willow.

"I should have known that the Starks would think they can do anything in this school." Said Professor Erik Lehnsherr as soon as you were rescued from the top of the Willow, and taken to Principal Harkness' office.

"We're sorry, Professor Lehnsherr" You asked while your brother just clenched his jaw at the provocation. You nudged him in the ribs and he crossed his arms, apologizing afterwards.

"Sorry I'm late Erik, we're having some problems in the greenhouses" Principal Harkness said as she entered the room, she smiled at you and your brother, her posture was friendly and good humored, very different from the other man in front of you. "What was the immeasurable problem that you mentioned?" she scoffed lightly and Erik cleared his throat before speaking.

"The Stark siblings arrived at the castle in a magically enchanted muggle car, Headmistress." He narrated and Agatha blinked in surprise. "They broke at least three hundred laws of the institute of International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, and on top of that, they caused the damage to the Whomping Willow, which has been at the school since before they were born!"

"Wow, that's pretty serious." Commented the teacher, and Erik frowns in surprise at her tone. "Tell me, what spell did you use?"

Tony blinked in confusion, the principal was not angry. She was just curious. Before he could answer, however, Professor Erik let out an exclamation.

"Agatha, they broke the law and..."

"Are you the principal, Erik?"

"I... No, but..."

"That's what I thought." She interrupts with a sharp smile. "Give them some punishment, I don't know, a month's detention, those things we do here."

"Agatha, I think..."

"That's all, Erik, thank you."

Professor Lehnsherr looked as shocked as you. The principal waved with a smile at you as you left the room in company with the professor.

"Starting tomorrow, boy, you will be in detention with me every day." Announced Erik sternly to his brother. "And you, girl, I will discuss the conditions of your punishment with the head of your house and you can be sure I will tell him everything that happened in that garden."

You and Tony swallowed dryly, intimidated by the menacing posture of the adult in front of you.

"To your dorms immediately." He ordered, and you walked side by side to the stairwell.

//-//

"I can't believe you did that!" Gamora impressedly remarked as soon as you joined her at the Slytherin table the next day, Nebula and Mantis by her side.

"Everyone is talking about it now." Nebula added as she ate some cereal. You felt your cheeks heat up as you looked around. There really were curious looks being cast at you.

"It was an accident." You said. "The car wasn't supposed to break down."

"It was dangerous and irresponsible." Rebutted Nebula without looking at you. "Typically Gryffindor, so my opinion is that you are walking around with Quill too much."

You rolled your eyes, laughing lightly.

"Hey, soon I'm going to start thinking you're from Slytherin, punk." Announced Tony as he approached the table, Steve and Bucky behind them.

"You wish." You teased lightly. Noticing the quidditch uniforms, you bit the inside of your cheek. "Do you have practice now?"

"No, we' re just going to play a little bit." He says. "There's really nothing to improve here."

Steve and Bucky laugh at Tony's cocky statement, and you roll your eyes, smiling a little.

"You're so full of yourself, aren't you, Tony?" Steve says afterwards.

" That''s just facts." He retorts, reaching out to steal one of your toasts. "See you later, kid."

After they leave, Gamora looks at you.

"Did you tell him you're going to try out for the team?"

"No." You reply with a chuckle. "I want it to be a surprise."

//-//

The following week, tryouts for the quidditch team were being held at the stadium, and all the team captains, including the Flight teacher, James Rhodes, were present.

He arranged the students in rows, and when Steve Rogers saw you he smiled encouragingly, waving. Tony walked over to you, equally excited.

"Pesty, why didn't you tell me you were going to take the test?" He asked as he hugged you quickly, and you felt your cheeks heat up as your classmates looked at you two with curiosity.

"It was a surprise." You retorted smiling and Tony messed up your hair before walking back with the other captains.

"We'll start with trios among everyone, and then separate you by houses." Announced Professor Rhodes with a smile. "Good luck everyone."

Your first trio were two students from Gryffindor that you didn't know. You would have liked to have taken the test with Peter, but he took the test with Pietro Maximoff, who had a wicked grin on his face, and almost knocked Peter off his broomstick when they were flying together. You grimaced angrily, and Wanda Maximoff glared back at you, as if daring you to do something against her brother. You rolled your eyes, and tried to pay attention to your own test.

"Hey, could you try to stop that bludger for me to throw?" Asked the short boy who was from the trio you were facing. He was from Hufflepuff, and his name was Peter Parker, but you actually never met him, and you only knew his name because the blond Ravenclaw girl in the stands was cheering him on.

"Sure, i got it." You said waiting for the bludger to arrive. You blinked in surprise when the object changed course in the air. The bludger wasn't going to mess up your test, or hit any of your friends, but on that course, it was going to hit Pietro right in the back. You sighed, hesitating. Then you shouted, "Yoy, Maximoff, look out!"

Pietro blinked in surprise at your warning, and managed to duck at the last second. You didn't look at him again.

Next, your partner was Peter Quill, thank goodness. He smiled charmingly at you riding beside him, and you nudged him slightly.

You were going up against two other students who looked older, but neither you nor Peter were intimidated.

"Come on brat, you don't want to embarrass your brother, do you?" taunted one of the boys as you prepared to hit back the bludger coming from Pietro's direction. You barely thought about it, and shot back, hitting the boy who had provoked you right in the chest.

He let out a sharp exclamation of pain, and fell backward. You blinked in fright, and dove in with the broom, grabbing him by the cape just moments before he hit the ground. You let go of him next, the boy had a pained expression as he massaged your chest. But he looked annoyed at you next.

"Pay attention to your surroundings." Said someone next to you. You looked up to notice Professor Rhodes looking at the two of you seriously. You swallowed dryly, flying away afterwards.

You made it to the Hufflepuff team. Your brother smiled contentedly, waving to you as he greeted Wanda, who also made the Slytherin team.

After the Quidditch tryouts, you had a few classes, and then your first detention.

You were going to help the elves with the castle services, and were almost glad to know that you didn't get the same detention as Tony: cleaning the greenhouse.

In the second week, one of the elves asked you to seek a special concoction from Professor Lehnsherr, so you walked to the potions room.

"I am so disappointed with you, girl." You heard a male voice say from inside the room, the door ajar. For some reason, you hesitated to enter. "I told you before, you can't lose control. That puts everything at risk."

"I'm sorry, papa." Mumbled a female voice, almost tearful. "It won't happen again."

You raised your hand to knock, not wanting to be nosy. But the door opened in front of you. Professor Erik Lehnsherr had his hand outstretched in the air, and you swallowed dryly, feeling your cheeks flush.

"What do you want?" he asked angrily and you shifted your weight between your feet, recognizing Wanda in the room.

"S-sorry to interrupt professor." You said. "I am looking for the cleansing potion for the elves. You know, for my detention."

Erik let out an impatient sigh.

"Maximoff, you can go." He said to Wanda. She nodded, ducking her head as she turned around. She glanced quickly at you as she left, but looked away when you stared back at her.

You left the room several minutes later. A package with several potions in it lay on your arm.

Whistling softly, you tried not to be intimidated by the dank, dimly lit corridors of the dungeon, but you were quite disturbed when you heard a noise.

You bit your lip, deciding if it was worth investigating. Leaving the package in the corner of the hallway, you drew your wand, walking toward the metallic sound.

As you turned the corner, you froze. A few meters ahead of you in the hallway was a troll. Metal chains on its hands and feet, the sound of them echoing down the hall.

But he was quiet, practically motionless. His reddened eyes sent shivers through your body.

You looked down and gasped.

Wanda had her arms raised in the air, and you saw her standing behind the creature, red magic escaping from her hands.

"W-what?" you found yourself whispering in confusion and then the monster's eyes flashed and he roared, the sound echoing loudly in the halls.

Wanda fell to her knees next, her hands returning to normal. You moved as the monster reacted again, enraged.

He was slow, so you dodged his attack easily, turning around. Before you could cast any spells however, there was a magic field around the monster.

"Return to your dormitories immediately, girls." Ordered Professor Lehnsherr with his wand raised. "I will control the creature." He was facing the troll, focused on his containment spell. You were annoyed because he didn't even look at his daughter.

You ran to Wanda, helping her to her feet. She blushed at the gesture, then thanked you. You took one last look at the monster before walking out into the hall.

"Hey, are you okay?" You asked once you and Wanda were alone.

"Yes, I... "She started and then widened her eyes, turning to you and pushing you by the shoulders. "You can't tell anyone what you saw!"

You frowned in confusion.

"Easy, there!" You exclaimed pushing her hands away, "You don't have to hit me."

Wanda sighed, running her hands through her hair.

"Just...please don't say anything to anyone." She ordered, in a much calmer tone now.

"Merlin, it's okay." You retorted putting your hands in your pockets. "I don't understand why you don't want to tell something this cool, but okay."

Wanda blinks in surprise.

"Cool?"

You smile shrugging your shoulders.

"Sure. You did magic without a wand, that's amazing."

Wanda looks after you for a moment, her cheeks reddening.

"Don't you think it's scary?" She asks and you frown.

"What, of course not!" you assure her. "You can make as many pranks as you want and no one will ever prove you did it."

Wanda smiles shyly at your joke, and then looks away.

"I promise I won't say anything, Wanda." You tell her and she sighs, nodding.

"Do you have any idea where the troll came from?

"No." She says. "I was walking back to my dorm, and I ran into him. There was no one else in the hallway."

You make an understanding noise with your mouth, not quite understanding how the creature escaped from the castle dungeons.

You walk in silence to the corridor leading to the Slytherin dormitory.

"Well, here we are... I'll see you tomorrow" You say half-heartedly. Wanda smiles as she waves goodbye and you walk back to your common room.

None of you notice the figure hidden between the shadows and the purple light around the walls.

//-//

You begin to notice new things after your short conversation with Wanda.

The way the students at school talk about her is one of these things.

In a single day, you hear at least ten cruel comments about how quiet, mysterious and scary Wanda was. A lot of people at school thought that she and Pietro were some kind of evil twins, because nobody ever saw their mother, and there were rumors that maybe Professor Erik Lehnsherr had made them in one of his cauldrons.

You didn't tell your friends what you saw that day, but you tried to bring up on the rumors you heard, and Gamora let out a giggle.

"People make a lot of things up here" she said while you were in pairs in Herbology class. "As far as I know, the Maximoff's mother is a muggle and that's why so many people in our house treat her that way."

You couldn't tell why these things were bothering you, since Wanda wasn't even your friend, but you guessed it was because you had always learned to hate the whole blood purity thing, since your father was a pureblood, but he married a muggle, and suffered a lot of hatred from the witch community that called him a blood traitor for years. You had a certain natural sympathy for Wanda now.

When Halloween came around, you ate too much candy, and your stomach hurt. All your friends were the same, and you decided to bet on a ghost race, a mixture of catch one, catch all and hide-and-seek through the castles.

You were being the ghost when you saw Peter Quill sneaking down one of the corridors, and you rushed to follow him, but then you heard a whistle, and you stumbled to hide quickly, and ended up falling on someone.

"Sor-Wanda!" You started to apologize but when you realized who you had bumped into, you exclaimed the witch's name awkwardly. "S- sorry" You hurried to say, feeling your face flush when you noticed her gaze on you. You stood up quickly, reaching out your hand to help her up. "Everything okay?"

"S-sure." She said smiling, and then she looked down. Your hands were still together and you quickly let go as soon as you noticed, feeling your face heat up.

"Err... you didn't see a Gryffindor boy walking by here did you?" You asked trying to lighten the mood, and looking around."I'm playing Ghost Race."

"This is a children game." She teased with a smile and you looked at her in surprise, blushing even more.

"I... I’m...."

"I'm just messing with you."

"Oh, right." You sigh laughing lightly as Wanda follows you. The sound of her laughter makes your stomach turn, and you don't understand why, so you clear your throat and say you needed to get back to your friends.

"See you around, Hufflepuff." She says as she says goodbye. You try to focus on finding Peter after that.

//-//

Quidditch is as fun as it is stressful.

You eventually discover that Steve Rogers was extremely competitive when playing against your brother.

Slytherin's game with Hufflepuff was scheduled in three weeks, and he was already making the whole team practice the rehearsed plays daily.

After another exhausting practice, you sighed as you flew toward the empty bleachers, four seats occupied only by your friends.

"Do you have to chew so loudly?" Complained Nebula to Peter Quill as he ate a piece of apple pie that he probably saved from lunch. The boy made a face, shrugging.

"I can't wait until we can go to Hogsmeade." Gamora commented a moment later. "We saw the third year kids go out last weekend, when you were playing explosive snap with all those older gang."

You smiled as you took off your Quidditch gloves.

"That "gang" are Tony's friends, Gamora." You explained and the girl shrugged, looking almost jealous that you had other friends, making you smile.

"That Romanoff is scary." Mantis added and your friends nodded, making you laugh.

"Natasha may seem threatening when you first meet her, but I assure you she is a sweetheart." You hit back and then steal one of the mini apple pies that Quill brought. "By the way, I wanted to invite you guys over for Christmas. Tony is calling all his friends."

Mantis and Quill seem excited about the invitation, but Nebula and Gamora exchange a look.

"Look, I'm happy with the invitation, I really am." Gamora began. "But we can't accept it."

You look at them with confusion, finding it amusing in the seriousness.

"Why not, girls?"

"It's just... Your family..." Gamora mumbles trying to find the right words.

"They are blood traitors." Nebula adds seriously. Quill and Mantis both widen their eyes, and Gamora lowers her gaze in shame. You feel your stomach turn in irritation.

"I beg your pardon?" you retort angrily, but Gamora puts her hand on her sister's forearm, asking her to shut up.

"We like you, Y/N, you are our friend." She says. "But our father, he would never allow us to go to Howard Stark's house, not after what he did."

You let out a short laugh.

"And what exactly he did?" you retort, already gathering your gloves and broom from the bench. "What a horrible crime to fall in love with someone isn't it?"

"Please, we didn't mean to upset you..." Gamora starts but you huff in irritation, riding the broom.

"I can't believe you were thinking that about me and my family all this time." You interrupted angrily, shaking your head in disbelief. You flew away the next moment, toward the ground, intending to return to the castle.

//-//

You hadn't talked to Gamora and Nebula for a week. It was weird eating at the Hufflepuff table again, but at least Mantis and Groot kept you company. Quill seemed torn about choosing a side, but you teased him that he could stay with his girlfriend without thinking that you would no longer be friends, and he turned red as he walked over to the Slytherin table for coffee.

At the weekend, the quarterfinal game of the Quidditch championship took place, and you could barely eat properly at breakfast in anticipation.

Mantis wasn't much into quidditch, but she dressed in your house colors and knitted a little yellow sweater for Groot as well.

"Ready to play with me, kid?" Teased Tony as soon as you stepped onto the field, the Slytherin team on the opposite side. You smiled confidently, nodding.

"Attention, players, I want a fair game." Warned Professor Rhodes, who was also the judge of the match. "Mount your brooms and ascend into the air please."

In the air, your gaze met Wanda's, and you smiled slightly, but she just glanced away, appearing upset. You didn't understand why, but you didn't really have time to ask.

And then the whistle for the start of the match sounded.

Being a beater was especially tricky on cloudy days, because you couldn't see the ball clearly with the dark background of the sky, but you had enchanted your glasses before you set up, so you were doing a decent job.

It was during the second half match that you almost died.

Loki Odinson was the seeker, and he was almost reaching for the golden snitch when you looked at him. Your job as a beater was to keep the bludger away from your teammates, and to precisely prevent Loki from catching the snitch. You aimed the bludger at Loki's broomstick, to destabilize him, and it worked. But he didn't take it very well.

Flying toward Erik Killmonger, the Slytherin beater, he grabbed the stick out of the boy's hand, and glared at you angrily before firing the incoming bludger right at you.

You managed to dodge it for a second, frowning as you looked back at Loki. But he had a mean look on his face, and before you could understand what happened, something hit you hard in the head, and you fell off the broom.

As you fell, your eyes grew heavy, and the last thing you saw were emerald eyes, accompanied by Tony's scream.

//-//

Your head hurt a lot when you woke up in the nurse's office.

Healer Cho smiled gently at you when she gave you some water as soon as she noticed that you had woken up.

And then you noticed the other curious faces around you.

"Will she get a cool scar?" Quill asked excitedly only for Gamora to slap his arm next.

You fiddled uncomfortably with the bandage on your head. Tony looked at you worriedly.

"Damn it, don't ever do something like that again." He complained and you looked at him with confusion.

"It was your mate who shot the ball at me." You retorted and he sighed.

"Yeah, Loki is an idiot." He retorted angrily. "If Thor hadn't interfered, I would have broken his nose."

Then you found out that as soon as you fell, the game was stopped and everyone went down to the field. Tony tried to fight with Loki, but Thor stopped him, and all the teams almost started beating each other. You were taken to the nurse, and Professor Rhodes disqualified the Slytherin because Loki used non-verbal magic to bewitch the bludger to attack you. Even though you were angry, you were impressed that a twelve year old boy could do such advanced magic.

"Good thing Wanda reached you before you fell." Tony added after telling all. You felt your face heat up, and Gamora noticed and looked at you curiously. You decided to change the subject quickly.

"What are you two doing here anyway?" You asked snidely looking at them. "Since when do the health of blood traitors matter to you?"

Tony blinks in confusion, but Gamora takes a step to the side of your bed.

"We wanted to apologize for that." She says. "Our father is the one who thinks those things, okay? You're our friend, and we don't think that of you. Or your family"

You looked away from Gamora to her sister. Nebula nodded in agreement a moment later, and you bit one inside cheek before sighing.

"Right." You said trying to smile. "Can I go back to eating with you two then?"

Gamora laughed, agreeing. When you tried to laugh, your head hurt and your exclamation of pain attracted Tony's attention.

"You know what, I forbid you to play Quidditch forever."

"Shut up, you idiot." You retort, smiling.

//-//

Thanos won't let Gamora and Nebula spend Christmas with you, but that's okay. You ask Iron to deliver the gifts to her house with the pseudonym "Apple Pie" in the name, and received their response in thanks a few days later.

All of Tony's friends come to your house during the holiday.

Bucky goes on a joke saying that his brother spread all those mistletoes around to get some action, but you don't understand what he means.

There is a new kid named Sam Wilson in your brother's group of friends, and he becomes one of your favorite people quickly. He is very funny, and makes everyone laugh during dinner.

Quill almost knocks the tree to the ground when Bucky agrees to charm his shoes to fly, and everyone laughs when he gets hung up on the decorations.

Your father arrives just before you cut up the turkey.

He is covered in soot, and looks exhausted. But he smiles and kisses you and Tony on the forehead, saying he will clean himself up before joining you.

"Can the little guy eat food?" Howard asks when Groot walks around the table. Mantis seems shy about explaining anything to your father, making you chuckle.

During the gift exchange, you giggle when Tony and Bucky start playing wrestling and Bucky miscalculates the punch time and hits your brother in the nose, who behaves like a crying baby, even though he has no mark on his face.

You fall asleep with a smile on your face on the carpet in the living room next to all your friends.

Without having any clue about the worried look your father exchanges with Jarvis a moment after everyone falls asleep in the living room.

//-//

When you return to Hogwarts, there are many new announcements on the bulletin board that catch your attention.

You are not sure if you will really have the time, but decide to sign up for the dueling club with your friends.

This is how you end up in the main hall after the last potions period. The wooden tables had disappeared, and in the center you would find a large golden stage. Professor Stephen Strange was beckoning students to spread out across the room when you arrived.

"Come on dear, come closer" Professor Stephen asked the crowd, standing on the stage. "Can you all see and hear me? Good."

Professor Stephen spent the next five minutes explaining that the club was back in activity after some teachers had talked with Principal Harkness, and also spoke about the basic rules for participating and dueling correctly. Soon the students were all divided into pairs. As the crowd organized itself, you noticed the Maximoff brothers in the back of the room, and you looked away quickly when Gamora, who was your partner, caught you staring.

"Let's practice the disarm spell." Announced Stephen next.

It was easy because you already knew. Your father, in the few moments he was home, taught defensive magic to you and Tony. Spells were not your brother's strong suit, but he didn't mind helping you practice.

Gamora smiled impressed when you approached her to demonstrate correctly how to make the movement with the wand.

Your colleagues, however, didn't seem to be making much progress, so the teacher interrupted their practice with a whistle.

"I will demonstrate how to use the disarm spell correctly." He says as he takes the stage again. You exchange a look with Gamora when by your proximity, you hear him mutter that if the students paid attention to his lessons they would know how to duel correctly. "Please, Erik, could you assist me with this lesson?"

Professor Lehnsherr had been quiet throughout the practice, watching the students from afar. He did not smile as he walked on stage, his silver wand in his hand.

"Pay attention, please." Strange asked noticing the buzz that arose as soon as Erik took the stage. "Thank you, Erik."

The two professors got into a dueling position, and then Professor Stephen made a motion with his wand. A white glow escaped through the air towards the other man, but Erik made a quick movement with his own wand, and it was as if he absorbed the spell. You recognized the blocking spell easily.

"It is important that you know how to defend spells during a duel." Professor Stephen then spoke, smiling quickly at Erik, who did not reciprocate. "That could save your lives in a situation where you don't know which spell has been cast on you.

"It might be wise to teach the students some counter attack spells, Professor Strange." Added Erik with a slight challenge in his voice. Professor Strange didn't seem to mind however, smiling at the crowd.

"Great idea, Erik!" he said putting away his wand. "I need two volunteers, please."

A lot of people raised their hands, making Strange give a chuckle.

"I think it's best to choose students who won't turn the other one into a frog during the duel, professor." Lehnsherr commented bitterly, and Stephen sighed, running his gaze around. He smiled when he looked at you.

"Stark, would you like to join in?" He asked gently, and you felt your cheeks flush as all eyes in the room went to you. Nodding shyly, you stepped onto the stage. "Who could your opponent be..."

"May I suggest someone from my own house, professor?" Interrupted Erik next, and without waiting for an answer, he turned around, "Wanda, come up here please."

The crowd erupted in hubbub as soon as the words echoed in the hall. But Wanda didn't hesitate, rushing to obey. You swallowed dryly, stepping forward.

"Great girls, let's start then." Said Professor Stephen smiling standing between you and Wanda. You didn't understand why she was looking at you so seriously. "Let's try the finite Incantatem, shall we?"

You and Wanda nod in agreement and the professor smiles, patting you two on the back to get you moving.

When you reach the dueling position, you raise your wand and wait for the teacher's order.

Wanda attacks first when he signals. And you just defend, which makes Professor Stephen give a little smile.

"Stark, remember to counter attack instead of defend, okay?" He asks and you nod, ignoring the stares at you. Wanda has a neutral expression as you get into a dueling position again.

A bright red spell comes at you as Wanda attacks again, and you have a second to think about fighting back, but hesitate, blocking it again. The crowd lets out a chorus of disappointment.

Professor Stephen looks ready to say something, but it is Erik's voice that fills the room.

"The Stark girl is clearly hesitating to fight back the spell, Professor Strange." He says, and you feel your cheeks heat up, looking down at the floor. "Perhaps she should try to attack Wanda first instead."

Stephen exchanges a look with the other professor, and then turns his head toward you.

"Is it okay if we do it this way, Stark?"

You glance at Wanda quickly before nodding, feeling very nervous all of a sudden. "Let's get started then."

Raising your wand again, you take a deep breath. Wanda also gets into a dueling position, her eyes watching your movements. You swallow dryly, and think of the least offensive spell you know. And you say the words.

Nothing happens.

Your wand lets out a small golden sparkle, and you frown in confusion. Some of your classmates laugh, believing that you have failed to cast a simple spell, and you feel your face heat up.

"I..." You start to say, wanting to apologize.

Professor Lehnsherr steps forward next to his daughter, looking at you curiously, but his tone is severe when he says.

"Again."

You ignore the stares and try again. It doesn't work. Your wand simply doesn't obey you. Feeling frustrated, you repeat the spell again. And again, louder this time. Your classmates seem as curious as you are.

Professor Erik moves around the stage, stopping a few feet in front of you.

"Try it against me now."

"Professor, I don't..."

"Now."

You swallow dryly, and aim in his direction. Ignoring the tremor in your hands, you repeat the same incantation. The magic immediately escapes, the golden glow rushes forward. Erik blocks it masterfully. A mixed look of curiosity and displeasure.

You immediately lower your wand when he takes two steps toward you.

"I don't know what happened, professor." You begin to explain quickly. "I don't..."

"Erik." Warns Professor Strange placing himself in front of you. All eyes on the three of you. Professor Lehnsherr forces a smile, which brings chills down your entire spine.

"I'm just curious, Stephen." Said the other man, putting his wand away and raising his hand to smooth the professor's cloak in front of him. "Just innocent curiosity."

"Let's continue tomorrow night, please. " Professor Stephen announces in a loud voice afterwards. The students begin to move quickly in the hall. You want to ignore the feeling that everyone is talking about you as you come down from the stage. Your gaze immediately seeks Wanda, but she has her head down as she joins her brother, leaving the room quickly.

Gamora is very impressed when you join her.

//-//

"And then nothing came out of her wand!" Gamora told your friends impressed as soon as you were all together at breakfast.

You woke up feeling especially tired that morning, and were eating your cereal lazily.

"That's so weird." Nebula commented. "Do you have any idea why you can't bewitch Wanda?"

You deny it, eating a little. You got a lot of looks this morning, and you were getting pretty upset about the whole thing.

"Maybe it's because you like her." Gamora suggested a moment later, and you choked on your cereal.

After Mantis helped you, you took a deep breath, your cheeks flushed.

"Where did you get that from?" You asked annoyed.

"I just meant that you seem to like her." She said with an insinuating smile. "Like a friend."

Gamora's tone clearly suggested something more, and you grumbled, turning your attention back to your cereal.

When your friends began to theorize about what the whole thing could possibly mean again, you stopped paying attention.

//-//

Tony laughed when you told him.

"I've never heard of anything like that, kid." He said as he took the scarf off his neck and threw himself on the couch in common room.

Technically, you couldn't be here. But it wasn't like people respected those rules anyway.

You didn't come to the Slytherin common room much, because it was cold and empty, and Slytherin students weren't very welcoming to visitors.

But Tony had many different classes than you, so you would only find him in the commons room by the end of the day. After you dismissed a free-flying session with Quill, you went to tell him what had happened at that morning.

"If you had joined the club, you would have seen it." You said straightening your position on the leather couch. Tony laughed.

"As if I was going to be a part of that." He scoffs. "I hate charms, you know that."

"You know it's one of the most important subjects, right?" you retort wryly, and Tony shrugs.

"I won't need that when I study Magic Mechanics with Dad."

You sigh, not wanting to talk about it again. Tony wanted to be like your father. A respected mechanical witch inventor. You didn't like the idea because it meant that Tony would be as absent as your father.

"Hey, why don't you try to figure something out in the reserved session?" He suggested next and you looked at him wryly.

"You're an example of a brother, you know that?" you teased making him laugh.

"Hey, if you're careful, no one will know you were there." He retorted and you sighed thoughtfully. "If you get caught, I'll say I dared you to do it."

"I doubt it." You retorted with a smile.

Tony invites you to a game of wizard chess, but you tell him you need to get back to your dorm before some prefect comes to question you.

On the way out, you bump into someone who shouldn't be there either.

"Sorry." You say immediately, and Pietro looks at you curiously.

"Are you here to talk to Wanda?" He asks snidely, but although his tone is accusatory, his eyes are warm.

"What?" you reply confused, "No, I...I came to see my brother."

Pietro doesn't seem to believe you, crossing his arms.

"What's your deal with my sister, anyway?"

You frown in confusion.

"I don't know what you are talking about." You say uncomfortable with the conversation.

Pietro stares at you for a few seconds, and then his expression lightens quickly and he smiles amiably.

"I'm just messing with you, kiddo." He mocks. "By the way, I never thanked you for that day at the Quidditch test. If you hadn't warned me, I wouldn't have made it as a seeker."

You blink in confusion and then smile awkwardly.

"No problem, Maximoff."

You nod in farewell, walking back toward the Hufflepuff dormitory, not noticing that Pietro continues to stare at you until you turn the corner.

//-//

The next morning, after your spell class is over, you tell Mantis to go ahead, because you want to talk to the professor.

"This is about the dueling club, isn't it Stark?" Professor Strange asks abruptly still with his back to you as he fiddles with his desk before you say anything. He turns around then, his expression slightly concerned.

"I was just wondering if you have any idea why my magic didn't work, sir?" You say with your hands in your pockets. "Everyone at school is talking about it."

Stephen sighs, and he seems to hesitate about something. But then his expression softens, and he smiles.

"Don't worry about it so much, okay?" He says. "Maybe it's just the similarity of the core of your wands. If the material is the same, maybe your wands are sisters and won't harm each other."

You believe this for the first two seconds, but then frown.

"But Wanda was able to cast spells on me sir." You say and Stephen widens his eyes slightly, as if he has been caught lying. He clears his throat quickly, amiably smiling at you as he nudges you out of the room with him.

"I'm sure there's a good explanation for this, but I don't have the answers right now, Miss Stark." He says and you have a frown as he is turning around, walking away down the hallway. "See you next class!"

You sigh, realizing that maybe your best chance to know what happened is Professor Erik.

//-//

Your next potions class isn't until midweek, so you try to do a little research in the library as Tony recommended you to do.

There is almost no material on magic connections in the library's common session, and you figure it's because it's an advanced and dangerous kind of magic.

"You know you could end up expelled if you try to take anything from the restricted session, right?" Gamora comments as you are sitting in the library, dozens of books around you as she helps you investigate.

"I'll try for a permit first." You say with your face propped up in your hands. "If no teacher is going to tell me why this is happening, I'm going to have to figure it out on my own."

No teacher allows you into the restricted session. They justify that a second-year student has no reason to read such advanced magic, but you just feel that they all seem willing to stop you from finding out what is going on.

You plan to sneak in then. After the last period on Tuesday, and as soon as the library is empty, you ask Gamora to help you distract the librarian, and while she does so, you sneak between the shelves.

You look back to check that everything was all right as you enter, and almost fall backwards in fright when you bump into someone. Your heart races with fear when you observe Principal Harkness right in front of you, a curious look on your face.

"P-professor?" You exclaim. "I'm sorry! I was just..."

"Sneaking in." She completes with a smile. You feel your stomach sink, but the woman makes room for you to enter. "Come on honey, you don't need that. Make yourself at home."

You hesitate for a second, but then step forward, your curiosity for answers getting the best of you.

Following in the way the head master points, you end up deep in the library, many books you've never seen around you, their covers dark, and mystical, some of them moving on the shelves as if they were trying to break free.

"I heard about your little accomplishment at the dueling club." The principal comments beside you as you run your fingers through the covers. You shrug.

"Nobody wants to tell me what's going on."

"Does that make you angry, dear?"

You blink in confusion, looking at the woman behind you. She looks back as if she was evaluating you.

"N-no, professor." You say putting your hands in your pockets. "I'd just like to know what's happening."

Harkness blinks and then looks away. She makes a flick with her fingers, and there is a book flying toward you. It has a dark, medieval cover, and there is a magical shadow shrouding the entire book. It 's mainly scary.

"I found a lot of information about magic connection incantations, dear." She counters. "But it's nothing a second grade girl could understand, you know? Advanced magic for even the most experienced witches."

You frown, wanting to say that if she explained it properly, you could understand it perfectly, but being the director, you thought it best to just add:

"Please, professor. I just want to know what's going on."

Agatha smiles, and then puts the book back on the shelf, her eyes have a purple glow that makes your body chilly.

"Don't you understand, dear?" She starts by stooping down to your height, her hand caressing your cheek lightly. "You came in here, and flipped through the books. So many words you didn't know. You found nothing." She says and you see flashes in your head, her words taking shape like a memory. "And when you left, it just stopped being important."

Agatha smiles at you as she rests her hand on your shoulder for a moment, and you face her back. Giving her one last look, you walk in the direction you came from.

When you leave, you only remember what you have been allowed to.

//-//

In potions class, you feel a tingling behind your eyes when you see Professor Erik.

You have the feeling that you want to ask him something, but can't remember what it is.

Gamora mentions that maybe you wanted to know about what happened at the dueling club, but you smile as you deny it with your head, telling her that that story wasn't really that big of a deal.

She frowns slightly, but doesn't insist, believing that you had lost interest in the subject as well as the rest of the school.

//-//

You don't do very well on your Transfiguration test.

If you had to find an excuse, you would say that you haven't felt very well since the dueling club. Your magic has been difficult to shape and control. You don't want to think about it, though, so you just study until everything is back to normal again.

Professor Rocket gives you an "Acceptable" though, and you grumble slightly when the results arrive at your house during the vacations.

You write to your friends over the summer, sharing the results of your assessments. Gamora did well in everything, her grades as perfect as Nebula's. Mantis failed in Charms, but got Brilliant in Herbology, and surprised no one by that. Peter had at least three "troll" grades, and Gamora sent him a chocolate cake to make him feel better.

The week before last, there was a big commotion at the Ministry of Magic, and your father was away from home for three days.

Jarvis didn't let you and Tony run to hug him when he arrived, and before you could protest, you noticed that he had apparated in the house garden accompanied by two other wizards you didn't know.

No one seemed willing to tell you what was happening, and when the wizards left, your father locked himself in his office for the night.

Tony was very upset, and said he wanted to be alone in his room.

"Jarvis, will you tell me what's going on?" You asked the butler when he put you to bed, worried that you were going to stay up waiting for your father. Jarvis sighed, sitting up with you.

"Miss Y/N, there are many things that are not concerns for children." He begins, and you sigh impatiently. The man smiles gently at you. "It may not seem fair, but innocence is a privilege of the few."

"I just want to know why dad and Tony are upset." You complain with your arms crossed, not understanding the man's previous words. Jarvis fluffs your pillows, pulling the blanket to waist height. "Please, Jarvis, tell me."

The butler sighs.

"Just know that there are people in our world who don't have the best of intentions." He explains mysteriously, causing you to frown. "But that's not something for you to worry about, because the adults have taken care of everything. Now, go to sleep miss."

Jarvis reaches out to turn off your lamp next and stands up. You sit in the dark for many minutes before you decide to fall asleep.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wandaxreader #wandamaximoffxreader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagines #The Scarlet Witch Prophecy #marvel imagines #wanda x yn #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader

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trumpkinhotboy · 3 years

Text

All in good time

Pairing: Jacob Black x f!reader

Type: Not requested

Genre: Kinda fluffy i'd say

Warnings: None!

Rating: g

Requests: Open (for Narnia and Twilight, maybe?😳)

A/n: Alright, alright, I know I said this blog was going to be centralized on Narnia stuff, but lately I've really gotten back in my Twilight phase🥴 Plus, I had a really shitty week and needed a pick me up. Jacob is one of my biggest comfort characters so I felt it was only suiting. I hope you'll enjoy it😬 I suggest reading this while listening to any kind of Twilight ambiance playlist.☺Also, I know my title sucks HAHA. Couldn't think of anything better so yea, I'm sorry, but this is what you get

Update: changed my title huhu!

* gif is not mine!!

There were days that just deeply and inherently... sucked. Days where everything seemed out of rhythm, where no matter how hard you tried, it all seemed wrong; it all fell apart.

Today was one of those days. When your dad jokingly said: "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." you did not think it the tiniest of bit funny. When you opened one of the kitchen cabinets to get your favorite brand of cereals and found an empty box, you almost threw a full-on seven-year-old crying on the floor tantrum. Especially when you saw the half-emptied bowl sitting in the sink. Too bad, no breakfast for you this morning. Ridiculous, immature, and not changing anything? Yes, of course, but you still did it out of pure spite. As if that would punish anyone else than you.

Like any other day in Forks, it was raining, nothing awful here, if it was not for the fact that the window on the driver’s side hadn’t been properly closed. Your seat was by now totally drenched. With your pants completely soaked you rode to school, your knuckles turning white from angrily gripping the wheel. Once you arrived, it seemed that everyone was annoyingly happy and enthusiastic while you just couldn’t get out of your personal, unchangeable, black cloud. Not to help, your friends only kept making fun of your moody behavior. Could you not be taken seriously on one of your worst days?

In your least favorite class, you were horrified to see written in big letters on the board:

“20% exam!! Leave your personal effects in front of the class.”

You would have run away if it wasn’t for the flow of students coming in to push you further in the classroom. Convinced the exam was for the next week, you did not even open the pages of your manual concerning the subject. It is with panic and exasperation that you sat at your desk waiting for your doom. Did you need to add that along with all that bull crap of a day, the only person who could have made your day a little less annoying was, once again missing. No calls, no texts, no news, nothing. Probably on another mission with the rest of his mutant gang. You got to the Rez after school, hoping you would see him, but were only welcomed by Leah and Seth. It almost felt like they were waiting for you as they were sitting outside of Billy’s house. Why they were the only ones left here was a mystery for you. The pack usually always stayed together.

- “Where are the others?”

- “On some kind of mission around the lands.”

- “Is everything alright?” They nodded nonchalantly. “Then why are you two here?”

The answer Seth gave you while chewing loudly on yet, another snack, made you grith your teeth so hard he thought they were going to fall out of your mouth.

- “To protect you.”

- “I thought it was nothing, so why would I need protection?”.

- “You should talk about it with Black. He’s the one who ordered us to stay to watch over you or something.”

- “I am PERFECTLY capable of WATCHING OVER MYSELF.” you answered a little louder than expected, anger rumbling in your chest. That earned you some awkward looks from your two friends, but at this point, it didn’t even matter, you were seeing red.

Leah, never intimated by you, shrugged her shoulders. Seth looking a little bit more nervous still laughed at your display of anger. Jacob was the one assigning babysitters over you? Of course, you and he would have a little discussion, that mutt would not see it coming.

When you got back home, you called your father to warn him; there was no way you would be cooking dinner. With your luck, it wouldn’t be a surprise if you burnt the whole house down. Fortunately, he was in good mood (unfair) and answered there was no problem; he would get pizza. He got home with the box in hand and a “Hey sweet...heart”. One quick look at your rough appearance and frustrated expression and his mouth closed shut. He dropped politely, almost carefully, a plate with a slice of pizza before quickly leaving for the couch. You mostly played with the food, incapable of swallowing it down, looking at the forest many times, waiting, expecting to see a tall figure appear on its verge but nothing. Time passed, still no sign of life. There was no way that by now Leah or Seth didn’t give him your message. You had time to wash the dishes, do some homework, and get in your sweats. At 7:30 pm you gave up; he wasn’t coming. Your father was still watching TV, completely oblivious to your growing anger. You picked up his plate to put it in the sink but tripped and dropped it, the delicate plate exploded into a thousand pieces.

- “Y/n? Everything okay?”

- “Y..ea.. an accident. I’ll pick it up.”

There was a slight tremolo in your voice. That was it. Your day had been terrible with no sign of sun, and this broken plate would be your breaking point as ridiculous as it sounded. You leaned on the counter, head hanging low, feeling tears of frustration swelling up in your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you looked up; in a second you were out the back door.

- “Where you going?” you heard your father ask.

- “Getting the trash out.”

The figure backed in the woods as you rushed into them without hesitation. You smacked against something big and warm, warmer than it was normal to be, yet you had become quite accustomed to it.

- “You little piece of shit.” your index finger digging in his chest. “You weren’t even here today, and it was terrible, and you can’t do this. I do not need any PROTECTION. Oh my god, do you really think I am weak and helpless without you or Leah or Seth or ANY werewolf to protect me?!”

He didn’t interrupt your monologue, only looking at you spitting your anger out.

- “You are SO annoying. Honestly who- who do you think you- are?! I’m- I am not, I can DEFINITELY, I don’t ne-eed any-one.” Your speech was becoming less and less coherent, your emotions taking control of your mind.

Without waiting any longer for you to finish your incoherent thought, he pulled you in for one of his signature bear hugs.

- “You can’t do this to me I’m an-ang-angry...”.

- “Shhh, it’s okay.”

- “You-you weren’t there.” you gave up fighting him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

- “I’m sorry, Leah told me.”

- “Wh- why didn’t you come sooner?” you continued, sobbing.

- “Some wolf things, Paul got in trouble.“ you backed off, immediately lifting your head at the mention of one of your friends in trouble.

- “Is he okay?”

- “Of course, he is, but Sam was very upset this time.” he stroked the side of your face with a small smile. “Enough with the boys, tell me what's wrong.”

- “Everything. I left my car window opened my seat was drenched. At school, everyone was disgustingly happy and in a good mood. I did not know I had an exam, I didn’t even study the subject. And this morning, my dad half ate the rest of my favorites cereals, and then I didn’t eat anything else as a silent protest, I know that’s stupid, but”

- “You didn’t eat anything else?”

- “Yeah, but I…” you lifted your gaze to meet his disapproving one. “I mean, I must have eaten a snack at lunch today…”

- “Must have?” he looked angrier.

- “Y/n??? Where are you??”

The calling of your father interrupted your conversation; he looked in its direction.

- “You should go back inside before your dad comes out.”

- “What? No, please. Can’t you kidnap me for tonight?” he chuckled lightly.

- “Trust me, go back in, okay?”

You looked at him unsure, even though you knew he was worthy of your trust. You finally nodded before running back inside.

- “What took you so long?”

- “Oh, uh, I thought I saw something and got a little carried away.”

- “Mokay, I don’t like you being so close to the woods. We’ve still had a few complaints about some trekkers finding traces of big animals in the woods. I’d prefer you be careful, alright?” You held up a smile, thinking about your friend just outside.

- “Sure.”

You stayed in the middle of the living room, expecting, waiting to see Jacob’s next move. You expected something quick, but when ten minutes later, there were still no signs of him, you felt frustration rising again. Not sure what to do now, you sat next to your father, half paying attention to what was happening on the screen. If he just left you, he was going to pay for it. You needed him, and just like that, he was gone? Probably, got called away by Sam again. Maybe it wasn’t in his control? But if it was…

Knock. Knock.

You looked up, surprised. The door opened with a creaking sound.

- “Oh, Jacob. Hi, what are you doing here?”

- “Hi Charlie, I heard Y/n had a pretty bad day. Came to kidnap her, if that's okay?”

- “Bad day? That’s an understatement. I swear, at one point, I thought she was going to scream at me. I ate her last bowl of cereal this morning; the thing was disgusting, I only ate half of it. I don’t think that helped.” You heard your friend’s low chuckle. Your dad seemed to feel pretty guilty about his crime, which did make you feel a tad bit better. “But yeah sure. Y/n! You have a visitor.”

You walked to them, Jacob awkwardly fitting in your small house; he seemed so disproportionate with his imposing size. For once, he was wearing actual clothes, a shirt and a pair of jeans, a sign he wasn’t planning on having to transform tonight. A sign that he was planning on being entirely dedicated to you.

- “Ready to go? I’m kidnaping you.” He said that last part with a smirk, a hint to your previous request.

- “Sure.” You grabbed your coat, said goodbye to your dad, and left without waiting any longer.

First, he took you away to get some food in you. It wasn’t until your teeth were digging inside a delicious burger that you realized just how hungry you were. Jacob being the glutton that he is, ordered two cheeseburgers along with a pack of large fries. You went for a milkshake, the perfect dessert for a night like this, and took your victuals to the La Push beach. It was empty and peaceful; the sun was slowly going down, the wind just a whisper in the night. It wasn’t even that cold, but the excuse to snuggle into Jake’s wolfish warmth was too good to pass.

- “Feeling better?” he asked while wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

- “Yes. Thanks, Jake.”

- “Kidnapping mission was a success?”

- “Yes, it was.” You answered with a smile.

- “Alright.” He muttered under his breath, looking in the distance.

You stayed for a while in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the other’s presence.

- “So, what were you saying about me not being there today, like that made your day worst?”

His question took you by surprise. A look at his cocky expression was all it took you to punch him in the ribs as hard as you could.

- “You wish idiot.”

He laughed at your attack, he probably didn't even feel a thing but leveled his face with yours in all seriousness.

- “You can avoid this conversation for now since you had a shit day and all, but keep in mind, it’s not over.”

- “And you keep in mind that our discussion about you ordering werewolves to stay behind to protect me, is not over. You won’t get away easily with that one Black.”

He laughed again, visibly amused with your threat. You laughed too but were slightly less amused. These two conversations were important ones, although one you apprehended way more. You looked at Jacob's happy expression and felt a fuzzy feeling warming your body. No, right now was not the time for such serious topics.

All in good time, right?

...

Tagging my two gals because they know how nervous I was😭...@imjustdreamingig @gonzalezyon I did it gals🥺 I hope you'll like it, thank you so much for your support💕💕

#ilya writes ❤#jacob black #jacob black x f!reader #jacob black x reader #jacob black fic #twilight #taylor lautner #twilight saga #wolves #werewolves

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help-im-a-gay-fish · 3 years

Text

The Night of the First Mistake

Sequel to

Synopsis: pre X-orcist, almost a year after Nightmare's death, Dream is still not on top of his grief and causes him to resort to desperate measures.

Tw mentions of death/dead loved ones.

X-orcist au belongs to me and @zu-is-here

Dreams, Demons and Desires is by me.

Enjoy

Almost a year had past since he'd last seen Nightmare. The skeleton couldn't say he had mourned him, but the news of his death had been unfortunate to say the least. Who could have seen someone like Nightmare dying in such a preventable way? Not him, that's for sure.

He was a friend... Or at least a friendly acquaintance, clearly he'd not been quite close enough to Night's inner circle to be invited to the funeral. He'd never even met Night's brother. Despite that, the news of his parting had deeply saddened him and every so often, he thought of him with a sigh.

A good customer and a good person.

This evening, Nightmare played at his thoughts again, probably drudged up by the anniversary of the accident approaching, he hadn’t meant to make note of the day, but he had. a few weeks would be the anniversary of the day he heard the news.

He thought back to a year ago, a few weeks before his death. The words he’d said about his brother and the increasing frustration about his sinful thoughts. Killer didn't judge him for such feelings, he was no stranger to sin.

Other then that, there was nothing at all strange about this night.

Tonight, just like any night, he was in his shop and the counter. It was a cold October and pretty soon he'd be closing up.

It was dark and chilly in his shop and had a strangely pungent smell, which hit the moment you walked in. A mix of crushed herbs and spices, old books and stale coffee.

An old set of scales sat on the counter top in front of him, as did a till, several glass jars and containers and a large collection of dirty coffee mugs.

Behind him there was a large book case full of many strange books. Ones with faded titles, ones with thick leather bindings, some with large strains spreading across the covers or pieces missing. If you asked him, he'd liked to have said that he'd read all of them... But there were a few he hadn't. He wasn't much of a reader outside of this collection.

As he nursed yet another cup of coffee from the café next door, he tapped his slender skeleton fingers on the counter top. He was bored.

With a glance at the clock, he decided today that he could close up early. It was his shop after all, he made the rules. A small collection of trinkets and charms hung around his neck and clinked together against his old coat, as he got to his feet.

Just as he prepared to take today's earnings from the till to count it, he heard the door and a jingle of the shop bell, indicating someone had entered.

He set an empty eye socket in their direction as they froze, looking nervous.

The person was new, but also something about them was strangely familiar. After scanning them for a moment, his face twisted into a sly smile upon realising who the new comer could be. He turned his face to them fully, staring his pitch eyes right through them. They tensed, which amused him slightly.

"well hello Little Light.... How may I help you"

Dream seemed taken back slightly by the pet name. It wasn't something he was used to. His hands fused with the fastening on his coat.

"uhh Hello.....I’m..... Uh.."

The shop keep chuckled again. Such nervous behaviour wasn't something he saw often from his customers. Looks like it was going to be an interesting night and to think, he was going to close up.

"nervous Lil light?"

Dream once again tensed and shuddered slightly.

"Please.... Don't call me that" he stammered slightly before taking a breath "My name is Dream"

The shop keepers grin got even wider and it made a chill run up Dream's spine. There was something extremely unnerving about this skeleton. Maybe it was the emptiness of his eyes or the strange carvings around them, but Dream was sure that it was more then that.

The atmosphere of the shop was very unsettling and kind of cramped in Dream’s opinion. There were many trinkets, stones, crystals and small animal bones stacked neatly on the shelves. It was this, along with bags of salt and bundles of sage and garlic, that reassured him he was in the right place for what he needed.

"Dream huh?.... Thought so" he said in a low tone "I'm so glad to finally meet you"

The nervous shifting of his hands continued, as Dream once again tensed even further. He was acting friendly, but it still felt ever so slightly...off.

"h-how do you know me?"

"I knew your brother and I'd recognise that pendant I sold him anywhere" he said, with his eyes looking at Dream's chest.

Dreams fingers quickly shot to the star charm hanging from his neck, and gripped it tight. Looks like this was the right place.

"Not to mention there's your golden eyes" he continued, shifting his gaze straight into Dream's eye sockets. It was strange how Dream knew where he was looking, even without eye lights.

"he often talked about them......He was right when he said they were very beautiful if I do say so myself~"

Dreams face blushed slightly, but he felt a familiar twist in this chest at the mention of Nightmare and a sinking feeling when he was reminded how Night felt about him. His brother had often complimented his eyes.....

He'd just never really understood it was more then brotherly affection. At least until now.

"I.... Uh" Dream said before clearing his throat "You're Killer.... Aren't you?"

Flexing his fingers, Killer nodded. The grin didn't leave his face.

"looks like my reputation proceeds me"

Dream let go of his necklace and a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "I thought it might be you.... Based off something he wrote in his diary".

Before Night's accident, Dream had never even considered reading his diary. That was just a basic code of conduct. However, after his death, it became something Dream had often thought about. The diary, and everything else Nightmare owned, now belonged to him. For that reason he'd taken the book out of Nightmare's room.

However, he'd just kept it on his bedside table for almost a year before he finally had the courage to read it.

It had mostly been a fond look over some old memories, some good and some bad. But there were also passages about his feelings for Dream, sometimes written confessions addressed him. Every word was full of truth, longing and pain. Dream had felt it all.

Those had been hard to read, but he'd not skipped a single page and read them each through several times.

Nearer the end of the book, Nightmare had started talking about his interest in the supernatural. Dream remembered his twin getting fascinated in that and spending long evenings talking with him about it over tea and biscuits.

One thing Dream hadn't known about, where his trips to the next town over, where he wrote about finding this shop and the shop keep. This had been where the interest started. It was this that had lead Dream to come here.

"right..." Killer said, downing what was left in his coffee mug and setting in on the counter top.

"well.... What can I help you with?"

Yeah.. Nightmare had written that Killer was always one to cut to the point. Dream knew that what he was going to ask sounded insane and he wasn't even fully sure if Killer was the right person to ask. But at this point he was desperate, he just needed to know. With his grip returning to his brothers pendent, he remembered who he was doing this for.

He took a deep breath.

"Can you bring people back from the dead?"

Killer didn't react visibly to that. But he drew out a long silence. After a little Dream was sure he saw his jaw clench. The silence was completely deafening, broken only by the sound of Killer's fingers tapping the counter top. Dream figured that he was probably struggling to think what to say. After what felt like a life time, he spoke.

"I specialise in charms and equipment for preventative measures to stop spirits inhabiting homes....I do not....." he paused

"I don't try and bring the dead to the living realms".

Dreams face fell. He really shouldn't have been so disappointed, it was a crazy ask. But with the way Killer spoke and what he sold in the shop, he'd felt so close to what he wanted. But maybe it really was just impossible.

He felt tears threatening to spill, he just couldn't take all this guilt anymore. All he wanted to do was tell his brother he was sorry. That night. That kiss. That dam horribly wonderful kiss...and that car.

"however...." Killer continued.

Dream felt hope flush through at those words and stood up slightly straighter. Killer turned his back to dream and started looking over the bookshelves behind the counter.

He didn't say a word, as Dream curiously watched him. He ran his thumb across the spines of several of the oldest and most dusty looking of them, eventually plucking out a large leather bound book with silver straps.

He walked back over, blowing dust off it as he did, and set it down on the counter with a light thud. The cover was extremely dusty and the leather was cracked and split in several places, yet the title still read fairly clearly and Dreams felt his heart skipped a beat.

The Practice of a Necromancer. Vol one of three. Summoning, Controlling and Banishing.

"I've not read this one fully, but it's been in my collection for years.... I suppose this would be the right place to look"

With that, he slowly opened the book and very carefully started to turn its pages. The paper was completely yellowed and clearly very fragile. There were no photographs, only hand done drawings of various items and also what looked like people, but with strange and uncanny faces. There were also other frightening images that Dream was trying not to look at.

Killer eventually stopped and ran his finger across a page.

"ah ha" he said "to summon a spirit into the living world"

He read over the text for a moment, as Dream watched impatiently. Killer knitted his non-existent eyebrows and narrowed his eyes.

"this stuff sounds overly complicated to me..... so I guess I'm not sure really"

But Dream didn't really seem to be playing much attention to Killer's words now. He was so desperately trying to read the text upside-down. Reading was something that Dream always struggled with anyway, so reading upside down would be near impossible. He reached forward to try and pull the book to him.

But he jumped back in surprise as Killer slapped his hand across the book, sending some dust into the air.

"now now now not so hasty Lil Light" he said returning back to a sweet tone, as he said the a pet name that made Dream's toes curl.

In his haste Dream had forgotten that this was a shop, not a library, so of course he wouldn't just hand it over.

The smaller skeleton knew that the book was probably pricey so it's not like Killer would just let him have it. It was clearly very old and Dream worried that he wouldn't have enough for it, but if he had to pay all the money he had to buy it. He would.

Reaching inside of his pocket, Dream pulled out a bundle of paper money and placed it on the counter and next to the book. Killer looked at it for a moment, before he took it and counted how much money was in the bundle. He ran his fingers across the notes, looking as if he was very tempted and contemplating his next move.

But then, much to Dream's disappointment, he put it back down on the counter.

"I don't want your money dream... That's not what I meant"

An unhappy wine left Dream's mouth, as Killer proceeded to hand his money back to him. Just as he was about to ask why, Killer cut him off.

"it's not for sale"

"but what if I just borro-

"or for rent or loan"

Dreams soul twisted. This felt so Incredibly unfair. He wasn't ever one to really get angry or feel hatred for people. But why had Killer gotten this book down if he didn't intend to sell it? Was he just trying to mess with him?

It was that moment that he wasn't sure he really liked Killer all that much.

He sighed.

"h-how come? Can I do anything to change your mind?"

Killer sadly shook his head.

"Dream....... I like to read the stuff for research purposes not for a practical use"

Dream opened his mouth to object, but killer silenced him.

"and I don't care what you say... but I don't think you're just interested in the topic"

Dream tried very hard not to show disappointment on his face, but of course Killer picked up on it. It upset him that his intentions were so easy to guess. Then again he'd opened with 'can you bring people back from the dead'.

He really should have asked in a different way. Feeling like an idiot, he tried to say that he wasn't intending to use the book in practice. But Killer once again shook his head.

He stood up slightly and gave Dream a sympathetic look, or a sympathetic as he could make it through his cold eyes.

"look....I know you miss him and that's ok I've lost people myself to" he said in a uncharacteristically gentle tone, which sounded fake.

Dream looked at his feet.

"but the dead need to be left dead. Trying to bring them back never ends well, Nightmare wouldn't want you to get hurt trying to help him"

Dreams eyes stayed fixed on the floor, not wanting to look at killer any longer. He didn't want him to see him cry. He didn't want to look like a baby. Just as he was going to try arguing again, behind him he heard the shop door open and the bell ring

He looked back at Killer seeing he'd straightened up.

"K-killer...." came a soft but slightly panicked voice.

Curiously, Dream looked over his shoulder at the source of the voice. It was another skeleton stood by the door.

In all his life, Dream had never seen someone look to tired. They seem to be slightly younger then Dreams age but it was hard to tell how much. Their appearance was clearly young, but the huge bags under their eyes aged their face several years. The most notable thing about them was that their eye lights where small, indicating that they were on edge.

They were wearing a oversized cream knitted sweater and had a maroon scarf decorated with a paw print pattern tide around their neck. They fiddled with it as their eyes a looked at Killer and then to Dream.

From where he was, Dream could also see them wearing several of the necklaces and charms that Killer a sold, as well as a few layers of bandages around their arms.

Killer hastily exited from behind the counter and approached them.

"Hey Cappuccino......." he said, trying again to sound soft.

Ccino wasted no time in burying his head to Killers chest and wrapping his arms around him.

In response, Killer stumbled slightly and looked momentarily taken back and very uncomfortable. After a moment he sigh, before gently placing an hand on his back.

"hey.....it's ok ya wimp... I'm guessing they're back right?"

Ccino simply nodded, Killer sighed.

"Dream can you show yourself out? I've got to take care of this, we're closing anyway. I'm sorry I couldn't help you better"

As Killer attempted to comfort the shaking skeleton, Dream turned his attention back to the book in front of him. It was just within his reach, the page was tantalising.

It was so clear, a set instructions of the exact thing he'd need to do to reach his goal.

Killer's warning played in his mind.

But he knew what he was doing right? It was his brother, what did Killer really know about what Nightmare would have wanted. He didn't know how.... Close... They were. At least he thought he knew.

It was a split second choice.

As Killer continued to try and comfort his companion, he saw Dream hastily exit the shop without saying another word. He stared at the door.

It didn't feel right.

He narrowed his eyes and stepped back from Ccino slightly.

"hang on"

He walked back to the counter and was relieved to see that the book was still there, however a moment later he noticed something else that make him freeze and curse under his breath.

"what's wrong?" Ccino asked, walking up next to him.

Killer didn't answer and instead picked up his book and looked at it closely to confirm what he saw. When he saw he was right, he near growled.

"Killer?" Ccino asked not seeing the problem.

"look....."Killer said quietly.

He ran his finger down the spine where the pages joined together. Once you looked closely you could see the remnants of torn paper sticking out.

"he took the page"

references coming soon.

149 notes · View notes

sunrisefairy · 3 years

Text

Don’t forget me

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Word count: 3.6k

Summary: Y/N and George were in a car accident, leaving Y/N in a coma. George isn’t sure if their life will go back to normal.

Warning: Car accident, mention of broken bones, a few swear words, sad George.

A/N: this was longer then I planned for it to be, it’s a little one the angsty side but worth it I swear.

Taglist: @hufflepuff5972 message me if you would like to be added!

Hope you enjoy.

Italics signify a flashback.

George couldn’t remember the last time he felt this worried and scared, actually the second Wizarding War would be a close contender. But right now, he couldn’t think about anything else besides you laying unconscious in a hospital bed.

George’s leg bounced up and down in the waiting room chair. What was meant to be a romantic date night turned into nightmare.

“Merlin, I think I’m going to explode with how full I am right now. That was the best risotto I’ve ever had.” Y/N moans, relaxing in the passenger seat as George chuckles and pulls out of the parking spot.

The redhead rests his hand on Y/N’s leg, concentrating on the snow filled road. “We definitely need to have date nights more often.”

The couple had been dating for almost 6 years having met at Hogwarts. George had worked up the courage to ask the H/C haired girl out, she had said yes, and the rest was history.

“I won’t say no to that, especially if you pay” Y/N jokes and squeezes Georges hand.

George glances over at Y/N who is staring out the window watching the snow fall. He can’t believe how lucky he is, Y/N is by far the most gorgeous girl he’s every laid his eyes on.

Y/N turns to face him having sensed his gaze on her. George swears he had only been looking at the beauty next to him for a moment, but his heart stops when he sees Y/N’s eyes widen and his name escaping from her lips, drawing his attention back to the road. George panics when his brain registers the bright lights of a truck right in front of them, gripping the steering wheel with both hands he tries to swerve out of the way, causing the car to flip and crash into a nearby tree.

“Any news yet dear?” George looks up to see his mum, Molly standing in front of him with a cup of water in an outstretched hand. He just shakes his head, taking the cup.

“Still in surgery” George sighs rubbing his eyes, Y/N had been in surgery by the time George woke up in the hospital bed. Molly and Fred had been waiting for him to wake up, they looked equally distraught. George hadn’t been told much of the details surrounding Y/N, only she had been taken straight into the operating room when they arrived.

George groans leaning back into the rather uncomfortable plastic chair. His arm is wrapped in a sling, doctors said he had broken his collarbone and his legs and arms were covered in multiple cuts and bruises but that was the extent of his injuries.

“She’s gonna be okay mate. Its Y/N we’re talking about, she’s a fighter” The voice comes from Fred, George hadn’t notice when he returned from his mission to find some decent food, not that George really cared to eat anything right now.

“Y/N L/N?” it’s the doctor speaking now, he is standing in front of them, clipboard in hand with a rather serious look on his face which might just be his permanent expression.

George jumps to his feet eager to know something, anything, he needs to know if Y/N is okay. His throat is dry, and it feels like a razor blade when he swallows, he’s 80% sure he might be sick or pass out from the worry, but he doesn’t care. Molly grab his hand in comfort, George finds himself squeezing it back.

George is having a hard time understanding what the doctor is saying, his brain feels fuzzy and he can only comprehend bits and pieces of the conversation. He can make out ‘Y/N is out of surgery’ and ‘brain swelling’ and ‘induced coma’ and George feels his legs give way.

Fred is at his side pulling him back up, “c’mon Georgie, we can go see her.”

Y/N’s giggles fill the air “Georgie, stop! Anyone could walk around the corner and find us.”

George’s hands are under Y/N’s school shirt, caressing her sides while his mouth is attacking her neck leaving as many dark bruises as he can, “I don’t care, I’m allowed to kiss my girlfriend when she looks this ravishing.”

Y/N moans quietly, her eyes fluttering closed as her hands thread through the redhead’s soft hair tugging lightly.

“I love you,” Y/N breathes out before she can stop herself. She stiffens, clamping a hand around her mouth. They couple hadn’t shared those words with each other yet, only been dating for a few months. “pretend I didn’t say that.” Y/N tries to backtrack, worried she gone and scared George.

By now George has moved from his original position and is looking down at Y/N searching her eyes.

“Say it again.”

Y/N hesitates, “I love you.”

George grabs her face in his giant hands and begins peppering soft kisses all over her face, “again” he mumbles against her skin.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” The short girl giggles.

Eventually George stops his attack on his girlfriend, “I love you too. Please don’t ever stop saying you love me.”

“Promise."

George reckons if it was quieter the world might be able to hear his heart thumping in his chest. His pace quickens as he looks at the room numbers, 205, 207, 209 and then 211. Once he enters the cold, white room he sees Y/N, laying in the hospital bed, covering in tubes.

“Godric,” he rushes over to his girlfriend’s side, clinging onto her hand and brushing some hair away that’s fallen onto her face. “baby.”

“I’m aware Doctor Anderson has already spoken with you Mr. Weasley, but Miss L/N here is in an induced coma due to the swelling against her brain. While she isn’t awake, I’m sure she can hear you.” The nurse notes before slipping out of the room.

“Baby, you have no idea how scared I’ve been. I miss you so much, I need you to get better so you can wake up and tell me how much of an idiot I am for driving in the snow. I am so sorry. Darling I am such a fucking idiot. Merlin, that should be me laying in a coma right now.” George babbles on and on for what feels like hours, his tears dried against his cheeks. At some point he falls asleep in the chair beside your bed, still clinging onto your hand.

“Happy birthday darling,” George says handing a very confused Y/N a small yellow wrapped box.

“Georgie my birthday isn’t for another few months” She grabs the box and slowly unwraps it, slightly nervous about what’s inside, Georges gift giving can be very unpredictable, most of them result in some sort of prank.

“I know but I couldn’t wait any longer to give you this present, seeing as you just finished school and all.”

Y/N tosses the wrapping paper aside and carefully lifts the lid of the tiny box; inside she sees a single key. “a key?”

“To my apartment” George answers, “I want you to move in with me and Fred.”

Y/N gazes up at her boyfriend surprised, “really? You want me to move in with you?”

“Of course, I can’t stand being away from you a moment longer. So… what do you say?”

Y/N has tears forming in her eyes, she has never felt love like this before and she prays it always stays this way forever. “Of course I’ll move in with you, silly!’ Y/N exclaims wrapping her arms around George’s neck.

George realises a breath he didn’t know he was holding “I was worried you might say no, thought maybe you think you’d get sick of me.”

Y/N shakes her head and nuzzles her face into Georges chest, “could never get sick of you babe, you’re stuck with me forever.”

It’s been a week? Maybe 2 or is it 3? George isn’t really sure how long its been, he’s spent every day in the hospital since the accident, the days seem to blur together. Fred has brought him some clothes here and there and convinced him to go home to shower a few times because ‘you smell like actual trash, probably doing some damage to Y/N’s nose with your stench’.

The doctors said the swelling in Y/N’s brain had improved and decided to bring her out of the medically induced coma. George has been persistent in asking when his girlfriend will wake up but only receiving an unhelpful reply of ‘it’s hard to tell, could take some time’. So, George decided he’d make sure he was by Y/N’s side for when she wakes up, not wanting her to be confused about her surroundings.

George has been tracing patterns onto the back of Y/N’s soft hand, quietly humming a tune to one of her favourite songs when she wakes up.

“Uh, excuse me?” Y/N’s voice came out croaky.

George’s head snapped up, “Oh merlin! You’re awake! You’re awake! Oh I’ve missed you baby!” he rushes to say as he’s clicking the nurses button to notify them.

Y/N scrunches up her eyebrows, feeling confused and eyes darting around the room. George is back at her side gripping her hand so tightly he doesn’t notice Y/N flinch slightly.

“How are you feeling darling? Are you in pain?” The redhead asks.

Y/N is in a tremendous amount of pain, her neck is aching, her wrist feels sore and stomach hurts when she breathes but she isn’t focused on any of that, all she is focused on right now is this man in front of her, this stranger.

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” Y/N whispers out, her throat stopping her from speaking any louder.

“What?” George squeaks dropping Y/N’s hand. At this moment the nurse comes into the room to tend to Y/N. George feels like he’s suffocating, he throat feels tight and dry and he can’t seem to breathe.

The nurse peeks at him noticing his pale face, “Mr. Weasley are you okay?”

“She-she doesn’t remember me.” He says not sure if the nurse heard. “She doesn’t know who I am.” He says louder this time.

The nurse looks taken back and begins asking Y/N questions, ‘what’s your name?’, ‘can you tell me what year it is?’.

George doesn’t wait to hear the answers, instead rushing out the room and heading outside, needing air. He quite literally bumps into Fred outside the hospital who was on his way to deliver him some food. The older twin notices his brothers horrified expression.

“Woah, is everything okay George? Is it Y/N? is she awake?” George’s breathing starts to quicken, he’s losing his grip on reality, he feels like he’s falling and he doesn’t know what to do. “Georgie mate look at me. Okay, just breathe buddy. Like this.” Fred takes some slow exaggerated deep breaths trying to calm down his brother. George’s eyes meet Fred’s and starts to copy him, which eventually slows down his heart rate and calms him down.

“Okay now can you tell me what’s going on?” Fred enquires.

George feels the hot fat tears running down his face as he wraps his arms around his brother, “she doesn’t remember me, Freddie. She doesn’t know who I am."

“Okay now are you going to tell us why you randomly dropped by?” Arthur asks as the 3 of them sit around the kitchen table, sipping at his tea.

“Not that we don’t love having you over dear.” Molly adds sending Arthur a glare.

George clears his throat looking between the 2, he knows his mum is going to flip. “I’ve decided I’m going to propose to Y/N.”

Molly squeals and pulls her son into a bone crushing hug, “oh my boy! This is amazing news. I’m so happy.” Arthur pats him on the back, “congratulations, we’re so proud of you.”

George chuckles as Molly pulls away, wiping the tears off her face.

Molly begins asking a million questions ranging from when George is planning on popping the question to how. “I haven’t decided yet, kind of waiting for the right time.”

Molly couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face. Y/N was perfect for her boy, since they first started dating in school Molly had an inkling it was the real deal and they’d end up getting married. George’s face would light up whenever Y/N was mentioned in a conversation and when he invited her over to spend the summer at the Burrow for the first time, he always had his hand in hers or holding her waist, stealing kisses whenever he could. It made Molly insanely happy to see how smitten her son was with Y/N.

“You tell us as soon as you her ask okay?” Molly insisted pointing a finger at George.

“I will, you’ll be the first to know.”

George is back in Y/N’s hospital room with Fred by his side. They’ve passed Doctor Anderson on their way up who explained Y/N’s situation. Retrograde amnesia, she can’t remember the last 7 years of her life, ultimately her life with George. The doctor mentioned her memory may come back, with brain injuries it’s hard to tell, but there is the chance that it won’t and that terrifies George. Doctor Anderson said that in a few days once Y/N is feeling better she can go home, he says it best for her to get back into her normal routine as soon as possible.

Y/N’s eyes look between the 2 identical men standing in front of her. They look vaguely familiar, like older versions of boys she used to know from school. After the redhead ran out of the room earlier the nurse and doctor filled Y/N in on her situation. Y/N was completely shocked to find out that she’s forgotten 7 years of her life, she isn’t some teenager at Hogwarts anymore and that is kind of freaking her out to be honest. The 2 redheads in front of her have yet to say anything and its annoying Y/N, she senses they are scared to speak to her, as if she might break.

“Oh my godric will one of you please something” Y/N finally huffs out annoyed.

The twin on the left, who isn’t the one Y/N ‘met’ earlier clears his throat and speaks “so I’m guessing you don’t remember us. Uh- I’m Fred and this is George, my brother.” Fred finds this unbelievably hard having to introduce himself to someone he’s known for years. Since Y/N and George started dating at Hogwarts him and Y/N had become pretty close friends.

“Fred and George” Y/N whispers, that does sound familiar. “Nice to meet you” Y/N pauses “re-meet you?”

Fred gives a light-hearted chuckle.

Y/N is filled with an ample amount of questions, she doesn’t know where to begin. “So how do I know you both? I mean we must be close if you’ve been waiting at the hospital for me.”

Y/N notices the twin on the right, George, looking like he’s in physical pain. Fred and George share a knowing look with each other before the younger twin starts to speak.

“Um, we met at Hogwarts actually and became pretty close,” he clears his throat and Y/N waits patiently for him to continue “you and me are… we’re actually dating.”

There’s an awkward tension in the air, no one can find the right words to speak. Fred has sat down on the wooden chair next to Y/N’s bed kind of regretting his decision to be here for moral support. George hasn’t moved from his position at the foot of the hospital bed, hand in his pocket staring down at his shoes.

“Oh” Y/N manages, “for how long?”

George inform Y/N that they’ve been officially dating for 5 almost 6 years, that they also live together in a flat above Fred and George’s joke shop which Y/N sometimes works at to help the boys. It feels strange for Y/N to hear about her life when none of it sounds familiar.

A few days later Y/N is standing in the living room of the flat, looking around at the photo frames hung up on the wall. Many of them include her, one in particular catches her eye. It’s a photo of her and George at the beach, George looks the same as he does now so Y/N guesses it may have been from the past summer. George has his arm around her waist tickling her sides as Y/N throws her head back laughing then George plants a sloppy kiss against her cheek. They look so happy, so in love. Y/N’s heart aches.

“I’ll show you to the bedroom if you like” Y/N turns around to find George standing there. She follows him into the bedroom. “If you need anything, I’ll just be in the living room.” George steps towards Y/N but falters, he normally kisses her goodnight. “um night.” He turns quickly on his heels and walks right out the door.

Y/N lays in bed that night, trying desperately to search her brain for something. She’s gotta remember something. But nothing comes up. She feels like a failure, and so overwhelmed she can’t help but cry herself to sleep that night. Just in the other room George lays uncomfortably on the couch, trying to sleep with a sling on your arm and a broken collarbone proves very difficult, he too has tears staining his cheeks as he finally falls asleep.

“Will you quit staring at me” George mumbles, his eyes still closed.

Y/N pokes his cheek earning a grumble from the sleepy boy. They had been living together for 1 year now and Y/N couldn’t be any happier. “Wake up sleepy head.”

She tries poking his cheek again when he doesn’t answer. “Leave me be” George mumbles.

Y/N purses her lips an idea forming in her head, “you leave me no choice.” She stands up in the bed and starts jumping around and yelling “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

Eventually George opens his eyes and grabs onto Y/N’s legs pulling her down and on top of him who is giggling like crazy, George smiles too.

“You are going to be the death of me, ya know that?” George says kisses her cheek.

Y/N laughs, “you love me though right Georgie?”

“Always.”

Y/N jolts awake, that dream feeling so realistic. It’s been 2 weeks since she left the hospital and some nights, she has these dreams that feel so unbelievably real or she’ll do something that give her déjà vu. She hasn’t told George about it though; she doesn’t want to get his hopes up in case her memories don’t return.

Y/N walks into the kitchen to find George making coffee, his red hair sticking in a million of different directions.

“Mornin’ Georgie” Y/N greets, going to make some toast.

George whips his head to face the smaller girl, she hasn’t called him Georgie since before the accident. Y/N doesn’t seem to notice though and continues to make her toast. “Morning,” he mumbles back “any progress on the memory?”

Y/N shakes her head and George feels his heart drop. He doesn’t want to think about what happens if Y/N never regains her memories, frightened she’ll never feel the way she used too. His family seem very optimistic about the whole situation, Ginny thinks that the whole situation is very romantic but each day that goes by George loses hope.

It's a Saturday night and they’ve just finished watching a movie on the couch. Y/N fell asleep half-way through which wasn’t surprising, her head resting on George’s shoulder, he doesn’t dare move in inch. In this moment he can pretend everything is normal again.

“Mm, Georgie. Dinner.” Y/N mumbles, George looks down and sees her eyes still closed, he realises she’s sleep talking.

“What was that love?”

Y/N stirs slightly, curling into Georges side. “We should do dinner. Date night. Been too long.”

The redhead starts playing with her H/C hair. “Yeah? Where should we go?”

“You know, Valentino’s. Always go there.” Y/N breathes out.

George’s breath hitches. Y/N always chose Valentino’s when it was her choice for date night, it was this cute little Italian restaurant they’d found one night in London, it was where they went the night of the accident.

“That sounds lovely, darling.” George kisses Y/N’s forehead.

Y/N stirs from her slumber “did I fall asleep again Georgie?” she rubs her eyes trying to take in her surroundings. Her brain feels fuzzy having just woken up. Y/N looks around trying to remember how she got on the couch when she lets out a loud gasp and jumps up.

“What is it? Is everything okay?” George eyes Y/N carefully who is frantically looking around the room finally landing on George.

Y/N’s doesn’t speak for a minute her brain going crazy. While Y/N doesn’t remember everything that she’s forgotten from the last 7 years she remembers parts, the important parts. She remembers kissing George for the first time and being each other’s date for the Yule ball, she remembers how sad and proud she felt when she watched Fred and George fly out of Hogwarts for the last time, she remembers the fear and terror of the war, she remembers joking around with Fred late at night and drawing on George’s face when he fell asleep after a night of drinking but most importantly she remembers loving George.

George’s heart sores and little fireworks erupt inside his chest when he hears Y/N say, “I remember.”

He palms the small box in his jacket pocket which he hadn’t the heart to remove just in case he found the right moment.

#George Weasley #George weasley x reader #George Weasley Fluff #George weasley one shot #George Weasley oneshot #George Weasley fanfic #George Weasley fanfiction #Fred Weasley #Fred and George #Harry Potter #Harry Potter oneshot #George Weasley Angst #George Weasley fic #hp fanfic #hp one shot #George Weasley x you

320 notes · View notes

x-infernhoes-x · 3 years

Text

Evermore- Maliksi x Reader

Title: Evermore

Genre: : )

Warnings: Not much but I’ll leave it to you guys lmao. Implied Relationship as well so ye.

Word Count: 1, 690 k +

Description: I don’t know WHY I get ideas for fanfics at ungodly hours of the night like I’m supposed to be on a break here since my neck still hurts from writing that 2k pound of word vomit that is known to be one of my greatest smut piece that eventually earned me the title as ‘The Emissary for Zaddy Cannibal’ WHEEZE and I started writing this at 1:57 am so let’s hope I’d finish this before 4 am. I’m basing some stuff I know about Maliksi from the comics and perhaps the anime as well. I also suggest listening to Evermore from the live-action version of Beauty and the Beast after reading!

PS. I didn’t finish this last night because I got sleepy at 3 am. There’s an AO3 version of this that’s direct to the point if you want something shorter than this one which can be found here! Oh and my grandma suggested that I set the font size to 12 instead of 11! and as always, I finished this at 3:29 am GGWP talaga.

Anyways, enjoy! _______________________________________

If people asked about how the Prince of Tikbalangs was like as a person, most of them would describe him as rowdy, haughty, stubborn at times may even be perceived as a pervert due to his distaste of not wearing any underwear underneath his jeans. Some thought of him as the classical, spoiled rich kid who cared for no one but himself but in reality, he was so much more than what people would perceive him to be. Being a Prince was something, sure he got everything that he wanted regardless of what it was, he would always find a way for it but sometimes it led him to live a rather lonely life that felt like he was nothing more but a slave to live through this illusion of being the perfect prince.

If they took the time to peek through the curtains of his façade, they would see that he just wanted someone to understand and see him for who he is but this also proved to be contradictory for the poor fellow given the fact that every time someone would show him just the right amount of honesty and kindness, he would find out that most of these people were only after him for things such as taming him to become their loyal servant, for his money or even for the sake of his looks. He thought that this curse of his would stay with him for the rest of his Engkanto life but somehow that all seemed to change his rather pessimistic view on life when he had come across someone who would turn his whole life in a different direction.

Maliksi had met (Y/N) (L/N) on one of his father’s many extravagant events where he was forced to sit through it. Of course, while his father was busy chatting away, the prince took this as an opportunity to sneak away which eventually led him towards an unsuspecting person who would change his life forever.

At first, the two of them were like total opposites, always clashing and arguing about something to the point that his father, Senior Armanaz had to interfere with their constant bickering but time seemed to wear both Maliksi and (Y/N)’s dissatisfaction for each other’s presence and instead began to tolerate the other, which eventually led into something more than just friendship among the two.

Maliksi and (Y/N) were completely inseparable, almost attached to the hip to the point that the Prince was rarely seen without them. He would take (Y/N) on trips across the country, sometimes he would take them out on long drives after his races and almost everything in between. People have reported that the two seemed even more in sync especially in battle, covering each other’s backs while bantering about which car model was the best or where they would eat after this whole ordeal like the two of them were playing a mere game of Patintero or even playing a good round of Pogs to see who got the most hits on their opponents and who seemed to be stronger.

But there were precious moments where Maliksi would take them on trips across the country just to escape from the hectic and bustling streets of the city and gave them the taste of what it means to be free and live life in color. He would watch his partner’s joyful and almost curious gaze with a feeling of warmth and care in his chest that would make him smile along with them, the two of them would participate in various festivals such as Flores de Mayo and its ritual pageant, Santa Cruzan, The Masskara Festival in Bacolod down to his personal favorite which happened to be the Moriones Festival that takes place in Marinduque. But out of those trips, the one that he treasures the most was the time Maliksi and his parents had flown out to their home province, Bukidnon to celebrate the Kaamulan Festival where his partner met the rest of the family, of course, this was also the time where he had proposed to (Y/N) after their 3 years of dating, he was glad that they had accepted his proposal.

Who knew things would eventually change from thereon. With the underworld restless and agitated from all the events that have transpired, it seemed to put a strain between Maliksi and his fiancé. To make matters worse between the two, Maliksi began to do races that would conclude in fatal car accidents for both parties. This would result in (Y/N) and Maliksi arguing non-stop every time they meet however these fights never resulted in something physical but it would leave them in tears or the other walking away with a slam of the door. This cycle seemed to break the moment a certain Babaylan-Mangdirigma had beat him at his own game and managed to snap some sense into him as well the moment his beloved ran at him at full force, scolding him right in front of Alexandra Trese before the two left to settle their problems in private.

“Magpakasal na tayo.” Maliksi told (Y/N) the morning after the two of them had reconciled. Of course, this made his fiance cough up their drink, eyes wide and still hacking their lungs out while Maliksi made his way over to them, patting their back gently to ease their pain. Once things were clear, (Y/N) could only look at him, disbelief and surprise evident on their face before they spoke, “Seryoso ka ba?! Paano yung simbahan, yung venue-“ Holding their hands in his own, Maliksi could only give his soon-to-be spouse a grin, placing a chaste kiss upon the back of their hands. “Wag ka nang magalala, babe. I’ve got it covered.” And just like he had said, Maliksi did have it covered, the venue, the church, and everything in between. It was a quick but simple ceremony that had his parents and (Y/N)’s parents present and nobody outside of the clan knew about this union between them. Time seemed to move quickly after that but the two newlyweds felt like it was an eternity for them both.

In a short amount of time the fantasy of church bells and dreaming faded into war cries and chants of ‘Sic Itur Ad Astra’ quickly and we see Maliksi and his spouse come face to face with the greatest foe they’ve ever come across, the war-god of Bukidnon, Talagbusao. With the rest of their forces subdued by the War God and Maliksi trying to recover from the hit he had taken from Talagbusao, the Tikbalang prince seemed to take notice that his spouse was nowhere in sight and panic seemed to take a hold on him like a choke-hold. Standing up, he began to look for them, ruby-red eyes rapidly scanning the area, furiously looking for his beloved, silently praying to Bathala that they were okay or let alone still be alive.

His prayers seemed to be answered when he saw them, still kicking and fighting and running to where Talagbusao was and he immediately knew something was wrong. “(Y/N)!! ANONG GINAGAWA MO!?” Maliksi yelled out through the sound of roaring bullets, trying his best to reach over to where their lover was. “Alexandra, ngayon na!” Maliksi heard (Y/N)’s commanding voice ring out as she caught the Babylan-Mandirigma’s knife, Sinag throwing it to her while they subdued Talagbusao to the best of their abilities, eyes locked with their husband as they mouthed at him, ‘Patawarin mo ako, Maliksi.’ And as quick as a flash, Alexandra, Talagbusao, and (Y/N) disappeared into the Dragon’s Gate. Maliksi was left to watch his spouse in paralyzed horror and shock disappear right before his eyes, chest clenching in panic as the impact of the closing portal sent everyone nearby it flying backward.

_____________________

A month has then passed after that event and we see Maliksi within the Trese household as he would always do, always waiting, hoping, and praying that his (Y/N) would return to him safe and unharmed. This day was different than the other days he would spend at the household because this day was the day that Alexandra Trese had returned as announced by a pale-looking and wide-eyed Hank. The tikbalang prince was the first to head where Alexandra---who was now swarmed by her older brothers and the kambal, his eyes still searching for his spouse, his expression of hope immediately diminished as he spoke, his voice slowly trembling with each step he took, “Nasaan si (Y/N), Alexandra?” at the mention of his spouse’s name, Alexandra then refused to meet his eyes as the rest of the Trese siblings along with the Kambal clearing a path for him, all watching him with disconsolate looks and glistening eyes as Alexandra held onto Sinag as tightly as she could, trying her best to find the right words to say to him.

“Wala na si, (Y/N), Maliksi. She’s gone.”

_________________________

“There is a story, of a man who had lost his beloved in a war, some say he still waits for their return, others say that the day his beloved had disappeared, he had soon followed.”

“They say that this man could be found standing by the tall windows of Tower A [1] located in Ayala Avenue. Urban myths suggest that this man is a ghost bound to the building, others say that he’s the reason why that Tower still exists.” Now in his prime, Maliksi sat in the place where his father used to sit. It had been years since he had taken over the clan and years since his beloved, (Y/N) was taken away from him at such an early age. Beside him was an empty throne reserved for them once they return. No matter how many years it would take him, Maliksi Armanaz, former prince and now leader of the Armanaz clan, would still wait for his beloved, (Y/N) to return to him until the end of his days. He would wait for them for evermore.

#trese netflix #trese #trese imagine #maliksi imagine #maliksi armanaz #fanfic #trese x reader #maliksi x reader #kailan kaya ako titigil #ewan ko ba HAHAHA

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fandomfindings · 3 years

Text

Cold

Pairings: (Embry Call x Reader)

Word Count: 1.3K

Warning(s): N/A

Summary: An Embry Call imagine where antics by Paul mixed with a cold day at the beach causes you to fall ill and the only thing that can make you feel better is the warmth of your boyfriend.

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"So you guys don't think I can take on Jacob and Seth at the same time?" Embry questioned, almost baffled from his seat between your legs. You were sat on a long-forgotten tree log next to your friend Jared with his girlfriend sat comfortably in his lap.

"No!" shouted the majority of the group, causing those who didn't comment on the matter to laugh, including yourself.

You and your group of friends, the wolf pack, often found yourselves on the cold shores of La Push. It was a quiet place for all of you to hang out, especially during the winter months, because no one in their right minds would visit the beach during this time of year.

You all found it nice that you could come here to relax and act their age in the shifters' case, for they were all pretty young —no need to worry about patrolling or anything of the like, just fun, friends, and waves.

"I think you could do it, Em," You objected, pushing your fingers through his short hair. Though you weren't sure if he actually could, you tried your best to be supportive, even if that meant a few white lies.

"Thanks, babe," smiled Embry, craning his head up to give you a quick peck on the lips.

"Get a room, you lovebirds," Paul complained from his spot across from you and Embry after the display of affection. Rachel shook her head, knowing just how hypocritical her boyfriend was being. He was quick to kiss her just like Embry had done to you.

"What does that make you and Rachel roommates?" You jokingly questioned, looking between your friend and his girlfriend, who you also considered a friend.

"If you want to call it that sure," Paul shrugged before chucking a small seashell in your direction, ensuring not to hit you, though.

"You're not funny," You huffed, picking up a seashell as well and throwing it. Unfortunately, your aim wasn't as precise as Paul's, for the small shell hit his bicep before falling to the sand below.

He looked down at his arm. Of course, it didn't hurt, but Paul being Paul, wasn't going to let the accident slide.

"Oh yeah?"

"Knock it off, you two," commented Sam, conscious of how childish you two get around one another, for it was the nature of your long-term friendship. Unfortunately, his request fell onto stubborn ears, for you responded without a care in the world.

"Yeah."

"I'll show you funny. Come here!" Paul shouted, quickly removing himself from his place in the sand against another rotting log.

Not having much time to respond, you jump up as well, having no regard for the safety of Embry's head that was previously supported by you.

You tried to keep your distance from the idiot, but that quickly failed, for he had several not so human advantages over you. Even if he wasn't a shifter, you were sure it wouldn't have taken him long to reach you.

Once Paul reached you, he grabbed you, placing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

You couldn't quite see where he was taking you, but you had a sneaking suspicion once the sand went from a light gray to a darker shade from the water that previously hit it.

Slight panic began to arise within you, and you began to smack at Paul's lower back and butt. "Paul put me down. I mean it!"

"Whatever you say," Paul said sweetly, not hesitating to drop you in the water below. You now wished you had chosen better words for your requested release. Though you were sure, it would've ended in a similar if not the same result.

You emerged from the waves, already feeling the chilling air against your face and body despite the layers of clothing that formerly warmed you.

Once to your feet, you made your way to Paul. Not skipping a beat, you pushed him into the water, soaking his previously semi-dry clothing.

"Aw, come on (Y/N)," Paul said playfully once he resurfaced. You could hear the smile on his face.

"Again, you're not funny," You remarked, leaving your friend in the frosty sea as you made your way back to shore.

Once there, Embry caught your eyes. He jogged up to you with a bright smile on his face. "Aw, baby," He said, grabbing your arm to bring you in for a hug in an attempt to warm you.

"Don't baby me. You didn't help," You said, removing your arm from Embry's grasp. "I'm going to change," You huffed, trudging past your boyfriend and to your car where you thankfully had towels and spare clothing. You weren't truly upset. Just a bit annoyed that you now had to change and, of course, you were now cold.

"Need some help?" Embry offered with a cheeky smirk on his face.

You were sleeping comfortably, at least as comfortable as one could with a stuffy nose and frequent coughing fits. In short, you were under the weather. No surprise there, considering you were thrown into the ocean in the dead of winter a day ago.

"No!"

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In your half-unconscious state, you heard loud shuffling outside. You ignored it at first, presuming it was some form of animal minding their own business. But that thought became increasingly slim as the noise got closer to your window. Even more so when your window began to slide open from the force of human hands.

Though you were a bit out of it, your fight or flight kicked in. You quickly got out of bed and grabbed for a baseball bat you had in your room for these very situations.

"Who's there? I have a bat and a boyfriend who will beat your ass!" You tried to threaten despite the raspiness in your voice. As you did so, you angled the bat high, ready to swing if need be.

"You think I can take him?"

"Em? What are you doing here?" You questioned, distinguishing the voice as your boyfriend's. You lowered your bat, realizing you were no longer in danger.

"You weren't answering my text," He replied plainly, flopping onto your mess of a bed.

"So you climb through my window?" You wondered, returning the bat to its rightful place in the process.

"Uh yeah." He again replied simply. "Why weren't you answering?" Embry probed after taking your phone in his hands and noticing it was fully charged with his abundance of messages on full display.

"If you can't tell, I'm sick," You responded, outstretching your arms to showcase your disheveled appearance. "I can barely keep my eyes open."

Embry reached out to take your hands, bringing you closer to his body and, therefore, its natural heat. "You're freezing!"

"Yeah, thanks to your friend," You said, obviously referring to Paul and his yesterday antics at the beach.

"My friend? The last time I checked, you've known him longer," Embry countered, rubbing his thumbs over the back of your cold hands.

"Well, I don't claim him when he annoys me," You replied but honestly, if that were the case, you would never truly claim Paul, for he was continually annoying you. That's how you two showed your love for each other.

"Come here," Embry chuckled, bringing you down in a full embrace.

You struggled against his hold briefly, "No, I don't want you to get sick."

Embry stopped, looking at you as if you had said the dumbest thing in the world. "Seriously."

That word alone was enough convincing that you wouldn't get him sick. You knew he had heightened abilities, but you weren't sure if that translated to his immune system as well.

"Fine."

You two stayed huddled together for who knows how long. The increased yet steady beat of Embry's heart and the warmth that he naturally radiated lulled you in and out of sleep. Embry noticed every time you woke up, hearing the change in your heartbeat.

"Feeling any better?" Embry asked, noticing you had awoken briefly once again.

"Much," You answered."Tell Paul he owes me soup," You added lowly, snuggling deeper into Embry's chest.

"Will do, baby."

----------

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading this imagine as mush as I enjoyed writing it. Returned to my roots a bit for this one considering I haven’t wrote for Twilight in a while. Check out another Embry imagine I wrote here, it’s called Explaining To Do. Feel free to let me know what you guys think!

Lots of Love <3

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight one shot #twilight imagines #Twilight wolf pack #twilight wolf pack imagine #twilight wolf pack fanfiction #twilight fanfic #twilight wolf pack fanfic #twilight wolf pack x reader #embry #embry call #embry call fanfiction #embry call imagine #embry call x reader #embry call one shot #embry call fanfic

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jamie-leah · 3 years

Text

War of Wolves (19)

Season 1

Episode 19 - The Search Begins

Bucky x Reader

Summary: You have been on the streets for the past two years, ever since your accident that left you with the ability to tell if someone is lying. You work as an informant for the white wolf and his mob but you had never met him…until you overhear a phone call that leads you to saving his life. Now he wants you to work for him. Its an offer you couldn’t refuse…right?

Word Count: 2530

Warnings: Violence, injuries, manhandling, medical talk, swearing, POV Changes

A/N: Here's another! Late as usual I know, but my life has taken an unexpected turn. However, lets hope these updates will not be more regular. There will be POV changes and I know Bucky's part is third person but I call it Bucky's POV because it's easier for everyone to follow! Enjoy Lovelies! Feedback is always encouraged!

<---Previous Episode Next Episode--->

WoW Masterlist Series Masterist Oneshot Masterlist

BUCKY’S POV

There’s a pounding in his head that hasn’t stopped since the crash. As his senses start to come back Bucky notices, he’s lying on concrete, the cold seeping into his bones.

About the same time, he realises he’s on the floor he remembers what happened. Bucky shoots up from the floor, causing dizziness but he didn’t care. The only thought he had was you.

As Bucky looks around, he sees the chair you were in empty and the room also empty. Morning had started to break, and he curses himself for losing precious hours.

As Bucky starts to make his way out of the building his body aches as his head keeps pounding in time with his heart.

He finally finds an exit and walks until he comes to a main road. Bucky looks around and breathes a sigh of relief that he knows where he is. With no phone or anything to communicate with anyone, Bucky walks.

He follows the main road as his thoughts race. He can’t help picturing you with Isaac and it makes him sick. The worry for you and the anger at himself and Isaac is almost enough to bring him to his knees, but he said he would find you and he would. He would die before he ever stopped looking.

Bucky felt like he had been walking forever but it was probably only about twenty-five minutes. The older building coming into view. He picks up the pace until he comes to the gates.

Bucky walks right in catching the eye of two men. They look at each other alarmed by the way he looks but Bucky simply says, “go get him”.

The one runs off as the other stays by the gate. Bucky keeps walking afraid that if he stops, he won’t be able to get back up.

As Bucky reaches the door Darren steps out looking concerned. Bucky clenches his jaw before saying, “I need your help”.

YOUR POV

You’re cold. You smell damp. You hear murmuring.

You shift and groan as your eyes protest being opened. You feel what must be springs digging into your back as you make sense of what you’re seeing.

Its quite a dark room, the ceiling old brick and as you follow it the walls are brick too. You sit up fast and groan. You notice you’re sitting on a mattress and metal frame.

You stand up and gasp as your bare feet touch stone. When you get over the shock you notice metal bars covering an archway, the only exit to this room.

It took you a while to comprehend what you were seeing but you finally realised that you were in a dungeon. You’re incredibly confused as voices get louder.

You walk closer to the bars, your feet becoming numb due to the cold until two figures step into view. It doesn’t take you long to see that its Harry and Isaac.

You look at the both of them, “where the hell am I?”.

Harry’s British accent comes out loud in the small space, “This is an estate of mine. I had a lot of extra room here, so I let Isaac renovate a few of his labs here”.

You screw up your face, “am I in a dungeon?”.

Harry chuckles, “my estate is essentially a castle, this place has many hidden places, this small dungeon being one”.

Isaac speaks next, watching you carefully, “no one knows you’re here. It’s just me, Harry and one of my men. The rest of the men don’t know you’re here, so Bucky definitely doesn’t know you’re here. Don’t cause me any trouble”.

You hold his gaze lifting your chin, “he’ll find me”.

Isaac smirks, “no. He won’t”. That’s when he pushes some type of clothing through the bars, “wear that. I have some initial tests I want to run as soon as possible. If you don’t have it on by the time my man comes to get you, he’ll put it on you himself”.

Without another word from either of them they leave. You pick up the clothing and see that it’s a hospital gown.

Its freezing in the room due to the stone so you don’t really want to put it on, but you don’t want to risk anyone else putting it on for you. You strip and quickly put the gown on. You sit on the edge of the bed and wait.

BUCKY’S POV

Darren didn’t even blink when he agreed to help in any way he could. The first thing that Bucky did was call Steve.

“Hello?”, Steve’s voice sounded tired, strained.

Bucky was just relieved to hear his voice, “Steve, its Bucky-“.

Steve interrupts him, “Bucky?! Where are you?! Are you hurt? I saw the car-“.

Bucky just manages to get out, “Steve, he took her”.

There was a heavy silence for a few moments, “where are you?”.

Bucky’s head was still hurting, “Darren’s”.

“Me and Sam will be there as soon as we can”, Steve waits a second before hanging up.

Darren comes back with a woman with a full looking rack. Bucky just sits there on Darren expensive looking sofa.

She comes over without a word and starts attending to the cut on Bucky’s head. Darren sits opposite Bucky and waits for the woman to finish. Before she leaves, she hands Bucky some tablets and water.

As Bucky takes them, Darren asks, “What happened Buck?”.

Bucky stares into space picturing the events as he tells Darren, “Isaac ambushed me and Y/N. I didn’t even see it coming. Rammed straight into us. I held em’ off as much as I could but there were too many of them and Y/N refused to run”.

Darren’s eyebrows raise, “brave woman”.

Bucky’s mouth twitches despite the circumstances, “stubborn woman…He took us to a warehouse about half hour from here. He was gonna kill me, but Y/N convinced him not to. He knocked me out and took her”.

Darren’s jaw clenched, “what do you need from me?”.

YOUR POV

It took about twenty minutes for you to hear footsteps and for another figure to come up to the bars. You can’t make much out other than he’s blonde and tall.

He opens the bar door and his gruff voice comes out, “move”.

“Where’s my please?”, you don’t know if its you being brave, stubborn, or stupid, but the comment comes out just the same.

The guy comes marching in and grabs your arm. He yanks so hard that your cry echoes in the room and you’re afraid he’ll rip it out of the socket.

You fight against him, fear of what Isaac has in store finally kicking in. But it doesn’t matter, you can’t get a grip with your bare feet and your punches bounce off him.

He leads you down narrow corridors and you lose track until he stops abruptly at a wooden door. He opens it one handed and drags you in.

Its like you stepped into a different reality. The room was white, and the floor was tiled. It was like you had entered a hospital. It made the knot in your stomach tighten painfully.

Isaac was sitting at a desk in a white coat. Your eyes slide from him to the glass window in front of him that looked into a room with an MRI machine.

Isaac talks with his back still to you, “put her on the table”.

The man starts backing you up, but you keep resisting. You manage to clip the guy in the face, his grip loosening enough to break free for only a second. Before you can get very far, he pulls you by your hair and throws you into the table.

Your stomach collides with the edge of the table and knocks the wind right out of your lungs. You double over and end up falling to the floor trying to suck in air.

Isaac doesn’t even care. He just walks over calmly as you struggle to breathe and injects something into your arm. You don’t remember anything after that.

BUCKY’S POV

The pounding in his head hadn’t stopped. The dizziness was still there, but Bucky couldn’t keep still. He was pacing in front of Darren worrying about you and wondering how he was going to find you.

There was a knock on the door that made Bucky turn around in his pacing. One of Darren’s workers had guided Steve and Sam to the room.

Steve took big strides over to Bucky, pulling him into a hug, closely followed by Sam. When Sam steps back he says, “we’re gonna get her back”.

Steve nods before asking, “what happened?”.

So, Bucky tells them everything. Once Bucky finishes Steve asks, “you got people on the inside, right? You planted people in Isaac’s organisation a while ago?”.

Bucky nods, “I’ll reach out to them, ask if they’ve seen her or heard anything about where he’s got her. There were also cameras at the warehouse he took us to, pull the footage and see if it tells us something”.

Sam holds his hand up, “we’ll do all of that and whatever else you need us to do, but we need to take you back and get you some medical attention”.

Bucky starts to shake his head, but Steve talks next, “Sam’s right. You can reach out to your informants in the car on the way back home, but you need to get your head checked out. You’re no good to Y/N if you’re injured”.

Bucky nods frustrated with how right they were and how much time its going to waste, “okay, lets get moving then”.

Bucky starts moving towards the door and everyone follows. Steve and Sam get in the car and Bucky follows. Before he closes the door, Darren says, “I’ve got a few people I can reach out to. I’ll let you know if I hear anything”.

Bucky nods, grateful, before slamming the door. Sam hands him a phone to start making calls as Steve speeds back home.

YOUR POV

It was like you were repeating history. You wake up groggy again and you shift as springs dig into your back.

You take in your cell and start to get up before the world tilts causing you to crash back onto the bed. That’s when Isaac speaks, making your heart race, “you’re going to feel dizzy and you’ll probably throw up soon. I need you to rest because I’ll need to take a few more tests in a few hours”.

You manage to murmur, “fuck you”.

Isaac chuckles, “the harder you fight the more I’m going to enjoy breaking your spirit. There’s a bucket in the corner of the room for when you throw up”.

You listen to his footsteps walking away, loud to the throbbing of your head. You try focusing on your breathing, but it wasn’t long before you felt saliva flood your mouth and your stomach clench.

You stumble out of bed and towards the corner. You nearly fall two times before making it to the bucket and heaving. Not much comes out as you stay hunched over the bucket for about half an hour just heaving.

By the time it stops your body is shaking and you have to crawl back over to the bed. You get back on and curl in on yourself, falling asleep to forget.

BUCKY’S POV

By the time they get back to the house Bucky has got in touch with everyone that he can think of, but it still doesn’t feel like enough.

He gets out the car more frustrated than ever and once inside he makes a beeline for the office. That is until Steve blocks his path, “I don’t think so. Med wing. Now”.

Bucky doesn’t fight as Steve escorts him towards the medical wing. He asks softly, “how is Peggy doing? I can’t believe I missed everything”.

Steve smiles, “she’s doing great. She’s at the safe house with the kids thinking of a name for our boy as we speak”.

Bucky nods, lost in thoughts, “good, that’s good”.

Steve looks over concerned, “Buck…”.

Bucky reaches for the med wing doors, “go and get the footage from the warehouse and get in contact with anyone I missed in the car while I get my head sorted”. Bucky didn’t give Steve a chance to say or ask whatever he was going to say as he lets the doors close.

YOUR POV

You wake to the noise of the barred door scrapping against the stone floor. You don’t move from your foetal position on the bed.

It’s the blonde guy again, “move”.

Your body still feels weak and shaky. When your voice comes out you don’t recognise it, “go fuck yourself”.

You hear his heavy steps approaching and you brace yourself. Again, he yanks your arm and pulls you off the bed. You don’t expect it and can’t catch yourself in time before your hip and knee collide with the stone floor.

You yelp as pain radiates along your leg. As you try breathing through the pain, he takes advantage and manages to carry you most of the way without much fight from you.

He drops you on the table in the room and Isaac is waiting with another syringe. He wastes no time in using it as you feel the sting in your arm.

They both step back and you start to get off the table, but your limbs don’t listen. You try moving your legs, but you go nowhere. You try moving your arms but still you’re staring at the white ceiling.

Panic starts clawing in your chest as your eyes dart around the room as much as they can. You can feel the cool table underneath you but despite all your strength you can’t even make your fingers twitch.

You even go to ask Isaac what he did but your mouth wouldn’t open. Fear was gripping your racing heart as you hear your blood in your ears like the sea raging on the shore.

Isaac comes into view with a smile, “try not to panic, it wouldn’t do me any favours if you died. I needed to do an MRI with you awake, but I imagined you wouldn’t lay still for me, so I thought I’d make you”.

He nods to the blonde guy and he picks you up. He takes you into the next room and places you on the machine.

During the entire process you try to move, but nothing worked. The loss of control and feeling of helplessness made breathing difficult.

You decided to just close your eyes and picture Bucky. You picture him healthy and in one of his black suits. You try and imagine what he would say to you now. He’d probably cup your face and make your eyes look at his and say, “you’re strong, smart, and stubborn. I know you can do this until I get there, you just need to breathe Doll. Just breathe for me. I will find you”.

It was only when you opened your eyes that you realised a tear had escaped down the side of your cheek and into your hair.

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creativeashproductions · 3 years

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What If...? IV // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: 1997 and 1998 are big years for Luke Patterson and his fiancée with their engagement and wedding planning. If you thought wedding planning and the wedding itself was the big things well, you’d be wrong. I mean this is the couple that almost ended with a car accident. Join the year long adventure.

Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy, minor angst, sweet groom!Luke, and fluff

Words: 3.3k

Requested: By @beautifulblogsblog. There is one more part after this. 🥺😭

A/N: It’s finally here! The Patterson-Y/L/N wedding makes its appearance here and a little cameo of a future character. The next part is the last part in the miniseries as well. Enjoy.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

Hollywood 1997

An entire year had flown by from the day of your engagement to Luke filled with frustration, elation and greatness. Sunset Curve toured around California, leaving the Y/L/N-Patterson women to plan the wedding. Nineteen years old now in the modestly sized apartment, Luke sat beside you in the bathroom.

Two nervous teenagers a mere month away from their wedding day they cuddled each other eyes pinned at the floor. Apprehensive of the stick that held power to change everything in their lives. For the last week, you hadn’t felt very well with being tired and nausea laying you out in bed.

“It’s been long enough.” Luke murmured reaching for the test, “No matter what. I love you.”

Kissing his cheek, the two of you slumped at the negative with surprising emotion. The negative greatly disappointed you.

“I’m sorry,” Luke mumbled to his fiancée equally torn up because while the timing wasn’t perfect, he had pictured what life would be like.

A tiny baby growing in his fiancée womb, growing into bump made flutters in his belly. Of love, he already felt for your future unborn children and snuggling his kids. Introducing them to his loved ones and bonding over music. Teaching his son or daughter how to play the guitar.

He’d love to see his parents cradle a new addition to the family freshly born with the tiny knit hat Emily couldn’t resist making. Sharing a celebratory beer with his father and wisdom for the coming years. To learn the parental reason of why they had been against his career choice.

“I really wanted it to be positive.” You admitted playing with your fingers disappointed at being wrong about your body. Luke smiled as your words as he grabbed your hand in his calloused grip.

“Do you…do you want to try for a baby?” Luke trailed off flushing at how beautiful you would look growing his child. The bathroom was quiet as you thought the idea over, “With the tour just finishing the band will be writing music and recording. I could be here for the whole pregnancy and birth.”

“If we get pregnant in the next month. But we’re also getting married in a few months.” You sighed leaning to rest about his bare arm staring at the pregnancy test.

“If it happens then it happens.” Luke spoke, “If you want, we can try.”

Raising your eyes to meet Luke’s you hesitantly nodded at his words as it settled that is there ever a perfect time to get pregnant? So many people struggle with conception like your parents did with you; your mother’s labour was so complicated that you’d never have siblings.

“Okay.” Luke breathed, standing up to scoop you into his arms, “Best get on with it.”

The laughter filled the simple bedroom as Luke crawled over your body to hover with a matching smile. There was no one else in the world that could get his heart fluttering and focus on something other than music. It was terrific, and he couldn’t be mad about.

“So, Rockstar…are you gonna help?” You whispered tugging on the chain of his necklace to drag his face closer. Closing the distance, Luke’s lips brushed yours before time stopped in a collision of senses.

The callouses of his fingers trailing a fire under the flowing shirt chosen for the lunch date earlier. The warmth of his hands nowhere close enough to match the heat your body burnt with. The taste of the cherry chapstick he shamelessly stole from you, but it was the heady scent of Luke that got you.

Luke heavily breathed as he pulled back with a hazy gaze with the green almost overtaken by the black pupils. No hesitation as your lips sucked on his neck, bringing a gravelly moan from the man over you, a sound that caused your lower half to clench. Legs unable to fully close as his fingers drew symbols on your inner thigh.

Symbols that spelt out his full name. Now that was really hot.

A gasp pulled from your throat you arched as a hand came up to cup your breast in his hand; Luke could argue all he wanted, but he was boob man when it came to you.

Thoughts disappearing the ecstasy with the love of your life overtook your senses.

July 1998

The white dress was a little snugger than the previous month, but you had a good reason for it. A tiny little blob had taken up residence in your womb with a sickness that lasts all day from day one until the start of trimester two. Getting pregnant had to be easy with Luke from the number of times.

Didn’t matter where you were when Luke tugged you away. The small bathroom in the studio? Three times.

Luke’s couch? Yeah, Alex refuses to sit there now.

At this point, you had been everywhere, trying for a baby was incredibly fun, but the hormones sucked. Luke’s deft fingers creating the chords of a song? Bobby banned you from rehearsals, and you had an emergency bag of clothes as well.

“You look gorgeous.” Nancy Y/L/N told her daughter with tears glittering in her eyes as she took in the sight of her daughter. The wedding dress the bridesmaids, mother’s and Alex had hunted for; the boy had tagged along as he was like a brother. Reggie, Bobby and Luke had spent the day with Mitch and Lance.

A sob broke from the lips of Lance; his baby girl no longer needed him with her soon to be husband. There was no one in the world he trusted more with his daughter than Luke Patterson. The boy never placed the band ahead of his fiancée, and it was quickly noticed how much Luke adored the Y/L/N girl.

“Dad.” You spoke, rushing to hug the man in your arms, “Stop crying. You’ll make me cry.”

Lance was able to hold his tears until the music started and the doors opened to the venue that Luke’s parents married in. Luke stood at the altar with Bobby, Alex, and Reggie. On the opposite side stood your best friend, a childhood friend and your close cousin.

“You look beautiful,” Dad told you slowly making their way to the man cupping his hands over his face. Overtaken by your beauty and the glow, Luke thanked Lance.

“Baby, you look like an Angel,” Luke whispered, squeezing your hands tightly in his as the ceremony began.

“It’s rare that one can find their soulmate, the other half of themselves on such a large plant. Luke and Y/N orbited each other as young children and fell in love in a perfect place. For those of you who don’t know, these two met as a concert. The first step to falling in love. Music is important to this couple.” The officiant spoke, “Luke’s mother told me once that music tethered their souls together, they truly met at a concert, and every important moment had a song.”

Luke’s eyes watered meeting the brown of his mother’s love-filled eyes holding hands with her husband. Luke had no clue how much his mother came to accept, and he felt the relationship fully fix itself as it settled that his Mom had personally made the ceremony better.

“These two souls came together and became one. Luke and Y/N’s love is rare and beautiful. Today these two had decided to make their own vows.” The officiant finished, “Luke if you could start.”

“There has always music in my heart and soul since childhood. I adored listening and begging my parents for new music. My parents, one year, gave me a guitar as a gift, and it started a deep passion in my soul. I made a band with my best friends, and the band brought me to a person that would become more important. Y/N, I had had a crush on you for a long time before you first spoke to me. I had hit Reggie in the calf with my father’s car, and you made a joke about my height. It wouldn’t be until years later than I somehow convinced you to take a chance.” Luke squeezed your hands, “I love music because it brought me to you.”

“Luke. I am absolutely positive that I have loved you for more than this lifetime as my love is so vast and deep. I believe we have been destined since the dawn of time to find each other together by music. I can’t compete with your vows because you have a way with words with the songwriting you’ve done. You’ve been there through the hard times and best times holding my hand ready to catch me if I fell. I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives catching each other when we need it.”

“May the rings be presented?” The officiant asked with a smile as your best friend and Alex gave the rings.

“With this ring, I thee wed,” Luke whispered as he slid the band to rest against your engagement ring. You repeated the words as you slid the band on his finger as well.

“I now pronounce you as man and wife. Mr. Patterson, you may kiss your wife.” The officiant spoke, sending the room into applause.

You and Luke ran down the aisle still holding hands with the biggest smiles of your entire life to the limo that would deliver you to the reception. Luke couldn’t help himself as he pressed kisses all over. This was a glorious day for the musician, his career was going really well, and he married the most beautiful girl.

“God, I love you.” Luke murmured to the girl in the white dress. Leaning closer for another kiss, Luke froze.

Digging into his ankle was a heavy object. Your nervous eyes glittered under the dimmed lighting in the limo. Never-ending eye contact Luke lifted a moderately heavy wooden chalkboard. Written on the sign was: ‘Unofficial flower girl or ring bearer’.

“Are you serious?” Luke asked gobsmacked at the news that heightened the greatness of his wedding day. Eyes flickering to meet yours he watched as your hand unzipped a hidden pocket on your dress.

Flat on your hand was a pregnancy test similar to the one you took months back. The only difference being this one had two lines.

“AS serious as a heart attack. There will be a baby Patterson in six months.” The laugh was joyful as your lips parted.

Luke wasted absolutely no time in setting his hand on the slight bump the dress had covered, “This is why you mentioned your dress being snugger?”

“Mhm.” You replied, stroking the softness of his cheekbone in pure love with him and the life you carried, “We’re in for a wild ride Patterson.”

“Bring it on.” Luke finished kissing your cheek as the limo came to a stop in front of a large venue. The duo you ran inside where your wedding guests threw paper airplanes that Reggie had suggested.

Each airplane had a personal note from your friends and family along that would be gathered into a binder. Reggie had found out that rice wasn’t good for birds and while the reception was inside, he couldn’t do it. So, he brought the idea of paper airplanes; in class, the boys would throw airplanes at each other. It was a nod to their adolescence.

“I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Patterson,” Alex announced into the microphone set on the stage with Sunset Curve’s instruments. It didn’t surprise anyone that the band would play at the wedding.

On the stage, a beautiful Hispanic woman played a soft piano ballad, if you could recall that maybe the bartender from the Orpheum. Her name was on the tip of your tongue as Luke twirled you into his arms with a big grin.

“Mrs. Patterson.” You hummed tugging him to the head table with where your wedding party would join as well. The second Luke helped you sit he knelt down to reach the box covertly placed.

Your eyebrows came together as he opened it, revealing two matching pairs of personalized vans; following the wedding theme one pair was white and another black. On the right shoe, it had ‘just married’ with the wedding date while the left shoe had a picture from your engagement pictures. Of course, Luke made them have Mr. and Mrs. above the image as well.

“How?” You breathed as Luke gently removed your heels to replace them with a thin pair of no-show socks. Over the socks went the white vans that gave your feet a break from the four-inch heels.

“We’re supposed to party now.” Luke beamed squeezing your hands in his only bending to kiss the back of each. His hazel eyes had shifted to a rich green as he stared up at yours with such a tender look, you could feel the heat building in your cheeks.

As your wedding party took their seats, Luke had already changed his shoes and pushed the box back under the table. His left hand refused to leave your right one as you both took in the magical room that had once only been a concept on paper.

“This is amazing.” You breathed leaning into Luke’s arm, sending a smile to the table near the front with both your parents, “Also thank you for the shoe surprise.”

“I am so happy they got done on time.” Luke sighed slouching in his seat, waving at the photographer you had hired.

If you can recall correctly, Luke had met him at a band photoshoot, and he was the assistant to the head photographer. You believe his name was Ray and incredibly talented and under-appreciated by his former boss.

“Did you let the photographer know we have an open bar?” You leaned over to your new husband with a flutter in your belly at his new title. The question turned the corners of Luke’s mouth for the first time that day.

“I find it unfair that we have an open bar and we can’t drink anything.” Luke snorted nudging Reggie in his side.

“Oh, I think we both know you’ll sneak some for the guys and you.” You chuckled leaning back in the chair. One hand resting on your stomach to caress the material with your thumb, unaware, “I’ll stick to the sparkling juice.”

Luke’s one eyebrow raised at the sudden change in your drink choice as in the past you wouldn’t turn down your favourite. His eyes shifted down to your hand with raised eyebrows.

“Wait…are you…?” Luke drawled out slowly in your ear taken aback when your head in a surreptitious manner. His jaw unhinged mind opened as he took in the tiny bump; in the years together, he was very acquainted with your body.

“We are. How cliché are we?” You laughed as Luke lunged to press a kiss to the supple skin lightly painted with foundation.

Your makeup was natural and straightforward to last longer for photos and make it through the dances for later. It was also Luke’s favourite look.

Dinner, the dances and speeches had sped by ending with both the bouquet toss and the garter toss. The guests mingled with the newlyweds as some danced, Emily had managed to drag Luke back on the floor.

“I’m proud of you, Luke.” Emily smiled up at her son, “And you said those dance lessons were a waste of time.”

A light pink flush took over the nineteen-year old’s full cheeks reminiscing the lessons he had taken with his mother. He had been eleven or twelve at the time when his father pulled a muscle at the worst time. The coupons nearly expiration Emily took Luke to the lessons that initially had been for date night.

“I think it helped with singing-“Luke instinctively cut himself off as he had done years before when music was a no go subject, “Sorry you don-“

“Luke, I can never explain how sorry I am about what happened. I was wrong to push you into a box you didn’t fit. Music is a part of you, and I understand now.” Emily squeezed the bicep of the guitarist, “Besides you’ll understand where we were coming from in a couple months.”

Luke’s jaw dropped at her announcement, “What.”

“Luke, I am a mother. I know the signs such as your wife turning down the wine.” Emily admitted stepping back from the boy that had so suddenly become a man before her very eyes.

No longer was he the chubby-cheeked boy running naked from his bath after splattering spaghetti sauce on himself. He had outgrown his interest in soccer and baseball with his little friends. He had matured into a man that lived up to Emily’s teachings. Luke, in her eyes, was now a man of honour, integrity, kindness and stood up for himself.

Emily and Mitch Patterson had done a fantastic job raising their son, but now they could step back. They would get to watch Luke find his way as a husband and a father.

“Hey, man,” Reggie spoke as Luke walked off the dance floor finding you among family congratulating the couple.

“Hey, Reg.” Luke beamed tugging the bassist into his arms for a tight hug. As the two boys leaned back, they looked over at their friend.

Alex discarded the pink suit jacket at the table in favour of leaning against the wall talking with the bartender. A smile blossomed on the two men’s faces as they took in that Alex was utterly relaxed in the conversation.

“They were hardcore flirting.” Reggie piped up, referencing the male bartender, “His name is Billy, I think.”

The bartender had shoulder-length dark hair pulled back in a bun with glittering brown eyes drowning in the shy blonde. He wore a dark shirt opened a few buttons with white detailing on it. A white necklace as well, but it was the lovesick smile Luke loved; Alex deserved happiness the most in Sunset Curve.

“He’s totally a skater.” Reggie spoke, “It’s a love story. He’s a skater boy, and he’d like to do ballet.”

“That would be a sick song. He was a punk, she did ballet.” Luke hummed to a melody created on the spot, “Not really our sound.”

“Someone will figure out a way to use it.” Reggie waved off, and he was right. A singer would use the exact lyric in her song ‘Sk8er Boi’ in 2002 when Sunset Curve would bump into her.

Slowly the boys of Sunset Curve found their way to the stage to perform a few songs directed towards you. At your urging, you had demanded they give a live performance of Unsaid Emily for your now mother-in-law. As they sang, you wrapped an arm, Emily, as she cried.

“This is his best work.” You mumbled to the older woman cupping her wet cheek leaning into the touch of her husband’s touch.

As soon as the song was over, Emily yanked her son into her arms both parties of the hug emotionally moved. It seemed the performance had shifted something in their relationship for the better. Luke didn’t need to explain as he pulled you into his side once more.

“Alex isn’t the only one that found someone.” You whispered, finding Alex and the bartender on break dancing on the edge of the dance floor. At your husband’s puzzlement, your finger pointed in the direction of the stage.

In a conversation photographer, Ray captivated the lead singer of the band you had hired when Sunset Curve didn’t play. Even Reggie seemed to have the attention of your twin showgirl cousins from Las Vegas.

“Love attracts love.” Luke simply spoke, wrapping his built arms around his wife, thinking back on the changes that had happened.

Luke hitting Reggie’s leg with the car at thirteen, finding each other at the concert a few years later, the accident that threatened the relationship. Proposing twice and finally marrying over a year later on the same day you confessed the pregnancy. So much had happened in such a fraction of time.

“I love you.” Luke murmured at the shell of your ear watching his friends have the time of their lives on a beautiful day in the summer of 1998.

Above are the example of the shoes that Luke got.

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#luke patterson imagines #julie and the phantoms imagines #jatp luke #luke patterson x reader #alive!luke patterson #charlie gillespie #caitsy and ash productions

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julemmaes · 3 years

Note

One of the kids and their first crush.

First Crush

A/N: Set in the same universe as this and this (I’m gonna make a masterlist soon I swear), Cal (18) finds himself in a weird situation and doesn’t know how to handle things. I introduced Elucien babies in this one, everyone else will come by later on and very slowly I’m gonna introduce every other child.

If you’re new, this is a next gen collection of one shots, for now only about Nessian kids specifically. In this one, Ezra is 22, Cal is 18 and even tho they don’t appear, Nora is 13, Celia is 12 and Andra is 10. Nate and Theo are 17.

Send prompts about whoever you’d like to read more about and also very slowly I’m gonna give yall every single one of those:)

Enjoy!

Word count: 3,432

Cal brought his hands to his hair, "Oh my god, what's wrong with me?"

Theo, leaning against the car next to him, chuckled, "In my opinion the correct question would be what isn't wrong with me- Ouch." the boy turned to his twin, "Why did you hit me?"

"Because you're being a dick," Nate replied, glaring at him, "Stop talking shit."

"Why did I agree to this?" asked Cal shocked, looking up from the road and shifting his gaze from one cousin to the other. Two pairs of brown eyes locked onto him and then, in a synchronized motion that never failed to make Cal cringe, the twins shrugged.

Theodore and Nathaniel Vanserra were two of the most handsome boys in all of VHS. They both had the natural grace of the Archeron sisters that all cousins in the family shared, but their father's beauty that they had acquired over the years was one that made it easy to hate them with just one look. It was humanly impossible that such beautiful people could exist.

"Because you like her and want to date her, maybe?" asked Nate sarcastically.

Theo threw him a look, "Who's being an asshole now?"

Nate huffed then turned back to Cal, "Listen to me," he took him by the shoulders, getting so close to his face that for a second he was afraid he was going to kiss him, "You've been drooling over Rania for months. Months, Cal. And she finally made the first move because you were too chicken to step up."

"Chicken?" laughed Theo beside them.

Nate closed his eyes taking a deep breath, deciding to ignore his brother, "She asked you out. You accepted. You're going on a date." he shook his head confused, leaning even more towards him, "What's wrong with that?"

Cal looked at him wide-eyed, imagining Rania's crystal eyes sparkling with excitement at the prospect of going to dinner with him, so different from the rust brown, almost red ones that were staring back at him. "Nothing, it all adds up," then he cleared his throat, "Shouldn't you be home by now?"

"What time is it?" asked Nate taking two steps back. Cal felt the air return to his lungs and he sagged against the door of his car. Well, his and Ezra's car.

Theo cursed checking the time on his phone, "Shit it's almost three."

Nate nearly broke his neck as he lunged to grab his backpack on the ground and then started running in the direction of their house, yelling a simple hello to Cal and for his brother to hurry up. Theo's eyes went wide, snorting with an amused grimace on his face.

Cal huffed out a laugh, "It's not three o'clock is it?"

Theo shook his head, with a lopsided smile too similar to his father's, "Not even close." then turned to his cousin and threw him a flying kiss, starting to walk after Nate. "Call me if you need any advice on what to wear."

Cal gave a thumbs up and then slipped into the car.

It didn't take him more than ten minutes before he arrived home, but once he parked his car next to his mom's, he sighed.

He needed to talk to his dad.

Cassian would certainly know how to handle this situation better than he was doing.

The front door burst open and a distraught Ezra, visibly in a hurry, opened the driver's door, grabbing his brother by the shoulder and pulling him out of the car.

"Ezra!" shrieked Cal with wide eyes, "What the fuck!"

"You're late." the eldest pointed out to him, then tossed him his backpack with a stern look, "Here."

"Sorry." Cal murmured, then pushed his hair out of his face, "I got stuck with Theo and Nate, I didn't notice the time."

Ezra stopped the frantic movements, looking at him worriedly all of a sudden, "Are you okay?"

Cal nodded, licking his lower lip, "Just Raina."

"Oh." murmured Ezra, "We can talk about her tonight when I get back if you want." he smiled at him, then seemed to remember that he was running late and Cal didn't have time to correct him and tell him that the problem was the exact opposite of what he thought that Ezra was already backing up.

The silence that greeted him in the house was unsettling.

"Hello?" he asked loudly enough for anyone to hear.

"In the kitchen!"

Cal smiled and kicked off his shoes before following the smell of lunch.

"Hi Mom."

Nesta was perched on one of the island stools as she munched on a cereal bar. "Hi dear." she looked up from her book to smile at her son, but turned serious, "What happened?"

Cal dropped his head back, huffing, "Am I a fucking open book?"

Nesta frowned, "No swearing."

"I don't see Andra here." he glanced around him opening his arms.

"I don't care, I don't want you to say them." and before he could retort, "And in this case you could have just as easily said I'm an open book without the need to shove fucking in it." she pointed out to him.

Cal nodded, knowing full well how pointless it was to engage in this conversation again. He pointed to the table set just for him, "You're not eating?" then arched an eyebrow, "Where is everyone?"

"I ate with Nora and Celia and then took them to practice. Andra is at school like she is every Wednesday." she got up too and sat down across from him at the table, closing her book and resting her chin on one hand, she asked, "So, what do you have?"

Cal took a bite, "Dad?" he asked with a full mouth, avoiding his mom's gaze.

"At work." then she huffed, "You failed a test?" guessed the woman.

Cal laughed, "Like that's even possible."

"Did you get in a fight with Theo and Nate?"

"I don't think that's possible either," he replied in a small voice.

"Cal," his mother's hand rested on his. He was forced to look at her and sighed, seeing the concern in Nesta's eyes, "Are you okay?"

He nodded. Evidently with not enough conviction because the woman in front of him bit her lip down thoughtfully.

"If you want I can call Dad and ask him to come home early," she offered, "If you want to talk to him, I mean," then continued, "You know he'd be here in three seconds."

Cal nodded again, knowing full well that his father would rush home even risking an accident if he knew one of his children was feeling down. Setting his fork down next to his plate he brought his hands to his face. He hated his mother when she did that.

He looked her straight in the eye as he told her so.

Nesta looked even more concerned, "I'm sorry," she told him, probably feeling guilty for pushing him too hard to talk, "if you want I'll leave."

"Nono," the boy replied promptly, then grimaced, closing his eyes. He grunted before muttering, "Raina asked me out."

He doubted his mother knew who he was talking about, but it didn't take a genius to figure out it was the girl he liked.

The room filled with an awkward silence.

"Ah." was Nesta's only response.

Cal resumed eating, his head down, "And I don't know what to do."

"What do you mean?"

"I've never really liked anyone before," he said, "and Raina is...she's special."

He smiled, thinking of the billions of braids she so proudly wore every day in a different hairstyle.

"Did you say no?" asked Nesta. Cal felt her curiosity even without the need to look at her.

He shook his head, "I said yes," he confessed, "but I need dad to tell me how to act. I don't have a clue what to do. Where to take her, how to dress, whether I should text her first. All that shit there- sorry." he smiled mischievously when Nesta bounced him again and hoped he'd taken her mind off the real problem.

"And how come," she began, "I can't be the one helping you?"

Cal looked at her at that point, "Because you're not a people person." he pointed out, "Dad managed to win your heart, it won't be that hard for him to give me advice on how to win Raina's." he took a sip of water, "When I think about it, dad and Raina have a very similar personality. " he shrugged, "So he can tell me what he likes and I can do it for her." he nodded as if he had discovered the Holy Grail, but that sly grimace disappeared from his face when he saw his mother's expression.

She sighed, her eyebrows so high they almost touched her hairline, "Dear, that's the dumbest thing you've ever said in your entire life." she told him in amazement.

Cal opened his mouth wide, offended, "Mom-"

Nesta raised a hand to stop him, "Let me talk."

He nodded once.

"First, answer these simple questions," she began, "What were you going to do about it this afternoon?"

"Ask her if she was okay with Friday night to go out." he said without hesitation.

"Good." she smiled at him for half a second, quickly becoming serious again, "And where would you like to take her?"

Cal tilted his head to the side, not understanding where this was going, "Why are you-"

"Just answer."

"I was thinking of taking her to the diner, to Ben's," he replied, unsure of his choice, as a faint blush made its way across his cheeks.

"Perfect." she gave him the thumbs up, "And since it's a diner, you'll just need to wear simple jeans and a t-shirt, or am I wrong? Nothing too fancy or flamboyant."

The boy huffed, irritated that his mother was giving him all logical answers to his senseless and fake concerns. "Okay, and your point?" he asked, scratching his forehead.

Nesta smiled at that, "My point is that these aren't your real problems and you're scared of all kinds of other stuff."

"I really don't like talking to you about this stuff." he muttered, folding his arms across his chest. They both knew that wasn't entirely true. They both knew that if either of them were really uncomfortable, they wouldn't be able to get a word in edgewise.

"Yeah I didn't either." scoffed his mother, "But I would have liked someone to tell me that it was normal for me to feel all those emotions the first time I met your father."

Cal frowned.

"You don't have a problem with setting up a fancy date," she told him, "I raised you teaching you what respect and kindness is and if I failed, then dad took care of it. Because both you and your brother are golden boys and you'll never have to worry about not being offering enough." Nesta looked away, "But while your brother can... handle?" she asked no one in particular, searching for the right term, "His emotions relatively well, you're like me." then she giggled and Cal knew they were navigating waters his mother didn't particularly like to touch, "And I'm a mess when figuring out how I feel."

Cal knew what she meant, so he nodded.

She was right.

Talking to the twins about what was really bothering him had never even been an option. The idea of having to tell them how much he actually liked Raina had been more terrifying than the emotions themselves. He knew they wouldn't understand and would wait until it was socially acceptable for him to tell Raina directly how he felt without scaring her off.

"How about you finish eating and then we'll go for a walk along the river?" his mom suggested, "Or do you have to study?"

Cal shook his head, smiling shyly at her, "I'll finish eating and we'll go." then he took to gorging himself.

Nesta chuckled as she went to get ready to go out.

***

"When Dad asked me out the second time, right after our first date, I said no," Nesta said, looking across the river to the other side, where a couple of older poeple were walking slowly arm in arm.

They had paced for a half hour, in which Cal had told her about how they had met in the coffee shop in front of the school almost four months earlier and how she had offered him hot chocolate. How they had spent a whole day talking about everything and nothing, and how they now had an ongoing obligation to meet at least once a week in the same cafeteria, even though they ate at the same table every day with all their other friends.

Nesta had asked to see a picture of her, and Cal had been surprised to find out that he wanted his mother to like Raina more than anything else at that moment. Luckily, Nesta had been speechless and commented on the girl's silvery eyes, blinking a couple of times before giving him the phone back and commenting with a simple, "She's beautiful."

Now, sitting on a bench along the bank of the Sidra, Nesta was telling him about the days when Cassian had had to struggle to make her his.

"How come?" he asked genuinely curious.

Nesta smiled, lowering her gaze to the wedding band around her ring finger, "Because I liked the first date too much."

Cal furrowed his brow, "Were you afraid the second one wouldn't measure up?"

"No," she murmured, casting him a glance, "I knew perfectly well it would be better than the first."

"So why did you say no?" the boy asked impatiently.

"I knew that the second one would be better than the first one and that the third one would be better than the second one and so on and I was already so overwhelmed with my feelings that I was afraid it might become too much." she explained, "Your father was the first one to get close after so many years of me having my bad friendships and relationships." she frowned.

"If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to," he made a point of reminding her. He wanted to be helped and would have liked to know more about his parents' lives before them, but he didn't want his mother to feel compelled to share things with him that still bothered her.

Nesta squeezed his hand lovingly, "Don't worry, those things are in the past and I have nothing to be ashamed of." she smiled at him, "I was with someone else before your dad and that man kinda ruined my life. I thought I would never be able to trust anyone in the future again. That I would never again feel the love and affection I had felt for him." she huffed out a laugh. She brought both hands to her lap and Cal shoved them into his pocket. "Then your father came along and it was all so sudden and I fell in love right away, hard. Completely lost for a boy I barely knew. And it scared the hell out of me."

"Why?" Cal already knew the answer, it was what he felt every time he saw Raina walking down the halls of the school. Every time she bit into a piece of bread in the lunch room and then made a disgusted face at how awful the food tasted.

"Because I could only imagine how much it would hurt if it ended suddenly. If I felt everything so strong in the good, it would be just as strong in the bad, you know?" she turned to him, more serious than ever.

Cal just nodded.

"Your father was hurt by it," she confessed. She began to play with her wedding ring, "He was so hurt, god." she giggled, probably thinking about the night she had rejected him, "He stood in silence for minutes on the front porch of my house gasping, thinking about all the possible things he had done wrong during dinner and the aftermath and we looked at each other and looked at each other until he asked me why and I couldn't tell him. He wouldn't have understood. Or he would have thought I was crazy."

The boy chuckled as he stared out at the glistening water under Velaris' winter sun, imagining his parents as kids, dressed up for a date. "How come you finally agreed to it?" he asked, later specifying, "To go on a second date I mean."

Nesta seemed to ponder how to phrase it, "Because I loved him."

Cal gave her time to process the words. If it was even half as difficult for her as it was for him, he needed to let her speak for herself.

"Because I realized that such a strong emotion, even if it was sudden and all at once, could only be a good thing. That even if it ended badly, I would have the memory of those happy, carefree moments." she nodded thoughtlessly. "I realized that something like that had to be reciprocal. A connection with a person like I had never felt before, not even with Tomas - who I believed to be the love of my life for years."

"I'm glad he wasn't," Cal murmured, chuckling.

Nesta gave him a light shrug, "Me too." then continued. "I knew your father wouldn't give up on me as easily as I was giving up on him. So after the thousandth time he asked me why I couldn't go out with him, I agreed and every time, every damn time, my heart gave out a little more.

"And I got to a point where I had nothing left to give, because he had everything about me. And I was okay with that. I was risking losing myself in what could easily have been a summer fling, but I knew it was worth it.

"Thankfully, it wasn't. Thankfully I trusted my feelings and kept fighting for what I wanted and even though sometimes your dad and I hit bumps along the way, it's still worth it. Every day."

Cal was watching her carefully.

Nesta often told her children that she loved them. He had heard her say I love you to their father many times, but never, never had he heard her speak in that open way, that vulnerable. She must have realized it too, because she took a deep breath, as if she had forgotten to breathe until that moment. Then she turned to him and put a hand on his face. Cal leaned into that touch.

"I just want you to know that you're not alone. That I feel that way too, right away. And I can assure you that if Raina is the right person for you, then she'll understand that too. Maybe it won't be the same for her, maybe it will take her longer to get to where you think you are now, but that doesn't mean she doesn't love you the same way." her eyes grew watery. "And never, ever be afraid that you're giving too much. There's no such thing as too much when it comes to love. Not in these cases."

Cal nodded, not sure he would be able to speak if he tried, but he knew his mother could see the gratitude in his eyes.

He couldn't imagine how his father must have felt when Nesta had confessed his true feelings to him. Cal was sure that the love she reserved for her children was different from the love she reserved for her husband, but certainly not weaker, not in smaller amounts. Just different.

"I know it's scary dear, but trust me when I tell you that feeling emotions so hard will bring you the best memories you'll ever make," she finally whispered.

Cal cleared his throat, not quite sure whether to be calmer or more agitated than before, but he said anyway, "Thanks mom."

Nesta turned to the snow-capped mountains that were visible above the town, "No problem."

They stood watching the river sparkle for too many minutes, but when they got up, Cal hugged his mother so tightly that Nesta was stunned.

They were used to exchanging kisses and hugs in their family, but she felt this was different.

She wrapped her arms around her son, despite the fact that he was much taller than her, and they rocked each other as the boy tried to bring order to the mess that was his head.

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katblu42 · 3 years

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Tie Me to the Moon

Installment 4 (of 5) in my Whump Wheel spinning experiment. This spin was for John and gave me Cuddling For Comfort and Cemetery.

It is another Young Tracys fic, but it requires some WARNINGS as it deals with grief/mourning, funerals and of course a cemetery. I'm also tagging for social anxiety, sensory overload and panic attack, although I'm not entirely sure exactly what I'm putting John through. If there's any additional warning or tag I need please let me know (or if these ones don't hit the mark).

Possibly more angst than whump.

The day started early. Scott had spoken with John and Virgil the night before about how much he was relying on them both to help get Alan and Gordon ready, since Grandma and Dad would both have a lot on their plate. So, John had set the alarm for 6am to give them time to wake themselves up before tackling the tinies.

By 9am all five boys were awake and fed and dressed in their Sunday best, shoes shined and hair combed awaiting final inspection before the cars arrived to take them to the church. Normally it would have been Dad who inspected the troops before such an important occasion but, like many other things over the last week or so, today the job was taken on by Scott. He left no stray hair or speck of lint unscrutinised, while their father was barely able to do more than glance at his boys and give Scott a pat on the shoulder as he passed on his way out the front door.

Scott decided it would be best if he went in the lead car with Dad. It was the one that had been fitted with the kiddie seats for Gordon and Alan, and Scott could sit between them and keep them settled. That left John and Virgil to ride in the second car with Grandma. The car trip was mostly silent, but Grandma told them they both looked very smart and did her best to smile despite clear indications she was holding back more tears.

As they neared the church it was impossible not to notice the large number of parked vehicles, some still offloading passengers. John let out a large sigh as their car pulled up in front of the chapel. The soft murmurings and general bustle of the gathering crowd penetrated their insulated little bubble even before the driver opened the door to let Grandma out. Virgil waited until he’d caught John’s eye and received a nod before opening his door so both boys could exit on the same side of the car.

The kindly young driver from the funeral home seemed to be keeping most of the well-meaning mourners at bay as the family gathered and were solemnly led into the church and ushered to the front pew. John tried to focus on the flowers, the quiet organ music, the soft glow of sunlight filtering through stained glass rather than the coffins or even the photos of Mom and Grandpa, and definitely not the endless stream of people filling the rows of seats behind them. It was a slightly tight fit getting all seven of them in the one pew, even with Alan on Dad’s (and later Scott’s) lap, but John was glad of the warm press of Virgil on his left and Gordon on his right.

The service was a simple, no-frills affair with the Minister officiating, but friends and family doing most of the talking. John listened through Dad and Grandma retelling stories he’d heard before, but there were little details revealed that he had never known. The anecdotes shared by the others who stepped up to the pulpit microphone – one of Grandpa’s farming neighbours, and an old friend of Mom’s from school – almost felt like stories about other people. It didn’t feel like they were talking about the people John had lost.

For John losing Grandpa was like a constellation of stars going missing from the night sky. It was Grandpa that had told him people are all made of the same stuff as the stars. He had been a quiet, watchful presence in his life, providing light and joy whenever he looked up and saw that twinkle in Grandpa’s eye. Like Ursa Major and Polaris, Grandpa was always there guiding him, giving direction when needed, but never wanting to overstep or overshadow his parents. Not the brightest light in his orbit, but an important, comforting presence that meant John always knew his place in the world.

Mom had been the sun at the centre of his life, his family, his everything. Without her all the light and warmth was gone from the world. Instead of a regular (though slightly wonky) orbit his world now felt like it was tumbling through space and gravity was constantly shifting. One moment he was too heavy to move and the next he was so light might be flung out into space. Night and day and seasons, years and everything he measured his life by had been connected to his Mom – waking him and tucking him into bed, making sure he dressed warm enough or wore sunscreen or had his raincoat, keeping track of birthdays and holidays and school excursion days were all her.

During the service no one spoke of Mom and Grandpa like that.

There was music. One of Mom’s favourite piano pieces. Virgil had wanted to be able to play it today, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to even sit at the piano, much less play at all since the accident. So a recording had been found and it was played as a backing track to the slideshow that flickered through image after image of happy memories telling part of two life stories.

There were prayers. Reassuring words from the minister about heaven and God’s love, and the love we should all share with each other. John wasn’t sure exactly how he felt about heaven, or God calling Mom and Grandpa home to his kingdom.

There was a poem read out by one of Mom’s work colleagues. It was something about not crying or being sad because they were gone, but being happy because they had lived. Many of the people in the room were obviously ignoring the advice – his immediate family included. There were a good many wet handkerchiefs and tissues in hands, a great deal of suppressed sobs and eye rubbing, and a few sleeves swiped across cheeks before the service was over.

Scott and Dad were among the pall bearers who carried the coffins out of the church and onto the waiting machinery that would take care of their final movements. John and his brothers and Grandma were the first of the mourners to follow in the sombre procession. Only a small number of people were permitted to follow the hovering gurneys across the grass and through the little cemetery to the waiting square-sided pits. Just family and a few close friends to witness the way the machinery slowly and smoothly lowered each coffin down into the earth, hear the minister recite the final ritual words, and each place a flower or a sprinkling of dirt atop the coffins in a last goodbye.

The rest of the large crowd had been encouraged to make their way into the Sunday School hall where the wake was to take place. Refreshments had been generously laid out on the tables inside. More photographs of both lost loved ones were on display throughout the room, along with so many more flowers and a large number of cards. But many of the people in attendance that day were still milling about outside the church buildings when John and his family returned through the cemetery for the wake.

John’s feet dragged as he approached the gentle hubbub of mingling friendly faces with sympathetic expressions. He could pick out people he knew well if he let himself concentrate, but the sheer number of individuals he was heading towards was a little overwhelming. They didn’t make it inside the hall before the onslaught began. Almost everyone wanted to say something, speak of sympathy, tell a story, offer “any help you need.” So many wanted to reach out, hold a hand or squeeze an arm, some came in for full-on hugs, cheek kisses and loud, teary exclamations of how sad it all was.

John lost his Dad and Grandma to the throng faster than he thought possible, but before he could be swept up in it himself he was thrown a lifeline. There was a familiar presence by his side, a brush of hand against hand, or specifically pinky against pinky – a request and an offer. John grabbed hold of Virgil’s hand and held fast, tethering himself to his brother like an anchor.

He wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened or how long it had taken, but eventually they all made it inside the Sunday School hall. John was only aware of Virgil’s hand in his, the rest was a blur of faces, voices, bodies. Virgil dealt with anyone who stopped them to offer their personal condolences, listening to what they had to say and responding politely but managing to keep the interactions brief and shielding John from most of the attention. Somehow they made their way to a cluster of chairs where Grandma and Dad were seated, Alan in his father’s lap, still accepting condolences from well-wisher after well-wisher.

John was aware of sweat beading on his forehead as Virgil told him to take a seat next to Grandma for a bit, and then his brother disappeared into the crowd to go and fetch Grandma a cup of tea. He wiped sweaty palms on his trousers as he tried to look around the room. His eyes fell on Scott standing a few feet away, taking all the sympathetic social interactions in his stride, nodding, smiling, shaking hands, accepting embraces.

John’s mouth was dry and he wondered if he could make it across the room to grab a drink from the trestle table against the wall, but there was a sea of bodies he’d have to negotiate in between. For a moment his vision blurred and the vague images of people swam in a dizzying fashion before he could find something to focus on. Alan had obviously grown tired of the hair ruffling and cheek pinching and wriggled free of his Dad’s grasp, and was now trying to run through the small gaps between grown up pairs of legs. Gordon was keeping an eye on him – in between snaffling more cakes and cookies from the food table. John watched the terrible two until they were obscured by too many featureless figures.

Despite the late-winter-cool of the day, the church hall felt uncomfortably warm. The large space with its vaulted ceiling, tall, wide windows and polished wooden floorboards felt dark and gloomy and so very crowded. And the non-stop undercurrent of murmuring voices appeared to build in an unbearable crescendo John could not shut out. Too many bodies, too many voices, too much, too close . . . he needed space, he needed air, he had to get out!

Virgil saw his brother get up and hurry a little unsteadily to the exit as he came back with Grandma’s tea. He tried to keep an eye on the red-head so he could follow, but he had to excuse himself to Grandma and Dad, make his way over to Scott, politely interrupt the conversation and whisper in his big brother’s ear.

“John’s bolted. I’m going after him.”

Scott acknowledged with a nod as his eyes darted to the door, already closed again after John’s escape. Virgil wasted no more time in following, but once outside it took him a moment to figure out which direction John had taken.

John had no particular destination in mind, he just needed to get away. His feet carried him across the gravel driveway and through the grass without him registering the change of surface. He ran through the little cemetery without seeing the tombstones he passed, slowing only when he approached the boundary marked with a low stone wall before a neat, tall hedge. Unable to go any farther he turned and wobbled dizzily. His vision narrowed leaving dull blurred impressions of light and shadow. He heard nothing but the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears, and he sank down to the ground, sitting heavily, knees bent and pulled up towards his chest. He scrunched his eyes tightly closed and slammed his hands over his ears, trying to block it all out.

Virgil approached slowly, but without trying to hide the sound of his footsteps. He lowered himself to sit facing John, resisting the strong urge to reach out and touch him. Seeing his brother in such distress clawed at his heart. He couldn’t let him struggle through this alone.

“John?” He kept his voice quiet and hoped he could be heard despite the hands staying firmly pressed against ears. “I’m here with you. Just me. No one else is around.”

There was no noticeable response.

“If you can hear me, I need you to try and slow your breathing down a bit, John. Deep breath in,“ and Virgil inhaled, “and out nice and slow.” Virgil waited for a second, watching John’s shallow, ragged breathing for any change. “In,” another inhaled breath, “and out.”

As Virgil continued repeating the instruction like a mantra John’s breathing gradually began to even out into slower, deeper, more controlled breaths. He wasn’t sure, but he thought John’s vice-like grip over his ears might be relaxing a little too.

“You’re doing great, John. Keep focusing on your breathing. Keep listening. Hear the breeze whispering through the leaves? Did you hear those birds?”

John did hear the cry of a bird overhead, and an answering call a little farther away as his hands drifted away from his head. As he lowered them to limply rest on the ground beside him he heard a gentle gust of wind rustle the hedges, and he registered that it did indeed sound a bit like a whisper.

“The sun’s broken free of the clouds. Can you feel it on your face, John? Can you feel the wind in your hair? You do realise there’s dirt and leaves beneath your fingertips, right?”

John turned his focus where his brother’s voice directed it, feeling the warmth on the left side of his face, and the breeze toying with his hair. There was indeed leaf litter and slightly damp dirt beneath his flexing fingers.

“If you’re ready to open your eyes you’ll see the moon’s out. I like the way the moon looks in the day. Against the blue of the sky the shadows make it look almost see-through.”

Translucent. That would have been a better word for what Virgil was trying to say. The thought flitted through John’s mind as he let his eyes drift open and scan the sky until they latched onto the gibbous moon framed by scattered cumulous clouds. He was also aware there was irony in the way his brother was effectively using the moon to anchor him, to bring him back to earth and ground him in the here and now.

Virgil had stopped talking, leaving the wind and occasional twitters and cries of the birds to fill the silence as John watched the clouds dance around the moon. He could feel his brother’s eyes on him almost as tangibly as he could feel the damp earth he was sitting on and the cool stone of the wall at his back. Now feeling much calmer he took a deep breath and brought his gaze down from the sky to meet the concern and compassion contained in those warm, brown eyes.

“Welcome back.” A hint of a smile played across Virgil’s face as he spoke.

A quiet moment stretched between them. No words spoken, but information passing from brother to brother through eye contact alone.

Content that John was no longer caught in a spiral he couldn’t escape on his own, Virgil glanced over his shoulder towards the Sunday School hall.

“I should go back, but you can stay here if you want. I’ll come and find you when it’s time to go. Just don’t wander off or anything.”

John didn’t speak as he chanced his own glance back toward the ongoing wake. Then, as Virgil made a move to get up and leave, John reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Stay. Please?”

Virgil stopped and stared first at the fingers digging into his wrist, then into pleading, desperate aquamarine. He simply nodded and adjusted his position so he was sitting next to John, their shoulders touching. John loosened his grip on Virgil’s wrist but didn’t let go, so John’s arm looped around his knees and Virgil’s arm crossed his body to keep the connection. There was an almost imperceptible hesitation, but then simultaneously John leaned in towards his brother and Virgil wrapped his arm around John, pulling them into a secure embrace.

John finally let go of Virgil’s wrist, bringing his arm in close, grabbing a fistful of Virgil’s suit jacket and snuggling closer into his brother’s chest. This enabled Virgil to employ both arms in the hug. John rarely cuddled up like this with anyone, but all the times he could remember doing so were with Mom. His next intake of breath hitched at the realisation, and Virgil held a little tighter. The threat of tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he was grateful that, while not the same as a cuddle from Mom, he was still able to find this level of safety and comfort in the arms of someone who loved him.

“I want her back,” he sobbed, letting the tears flow and drip onto Virgil’s jacket.

“Yeah. Me too.”

John heard the tears in Virgil’s voice, but he already knew his brother felt the same absence in their hug.

Neither boy could say how long they stayed out there, huddled together, holding tight while hot tears streaked their cheeks. Time may as well have stood still for all it mattered. Nothing else was important, just the feeling that this moment, however sad, was there’s alone to share until Scott came and found them to tell them it was time to go home.

#john tracy #virgil tracy #grief/mourning #social anxiety #sensory overload #panick attack #funeral #angst #cemetery #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds fandom #thunderbirds

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ssson-of-sparda · 3 years

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Two Dresses (Dante x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Patty desperately wants to know what happened between Dante and Y/N. Hopefully, Morrison is here to help. (Part 3 of A Tab To Erase) (Part 1) (Part 2)

Tags: Pre DMC3 Dante / Dante is Tony Redgrave / Love / Fluff / Slight ANgst / Implied Sexual Content / Explicit Language

Author’s note: Part 3 is out. Sorry for keeping you waiting. The story is coming to its end. Only one or two chapters left.

MISSION 3

Indifference is the worst form of contempt. But how can you be indifferent when a squeaking tiny voice as unbearable as fingernails on a chalkboard constantly splits your ears with endless whining? Dante wished to know. “Pleeeeaase Dante. You promised.” Patty begged again as she almost sprawled on the man’s desk, strangely not caring about the grease or the tomato sauce that were disgustingly splattered on the wooden surface. “I didn’t do such thing.” Dante nonchalantly took a bite of his pizza, trying to ignore Patty’s pleading blue eyes and her feeble attempt at convincing him to tell her the rest of his ‘love story’ (she had decreed it was one) with Y/N. “Come on, Dante! You have to tell me!” The frustration in every single word coming out of her mouth was growing stronger. You could hear it in the way her voice was becoming more and more piercing by the minute. And in spite of all the time spent with Patty, Dante had never succeeded in really ignoring her childish whims. “Don’t you watch TV shows?” She added. “You know full well I don’t.” And it was the truth. Except for adults programs once in a while, Dante cared less about television, contrary to Patty who was a professional binge-watcher capable of watching a dozen of episodes a day and still yearning for more. “Well, even if you don’t, haven’t you ever experienced the frustration of a cliffhanger? Like, in Bolero in Spring, when Jenna has a car accident right after she decides to run after Josh to finally tell him he is the love of her life and that she loves him too and you know you’ll have to wait a whole week to know what happens next?” Dante’s brain shut down after the first question, or maybe even before that, finding a not-so-surprising fascination for the slices of salami on his pizza and their perfectly round shapes. “Like I told you, I don’t watch TV.” “Haven’t you ever longed for anything?” “Yes actually. Right now, I long for peace … and quiet … and for you to finally shut up.” The girl glared at him, shooting daggers at him as sharp as a thousand Rebellions.

“What’s going on here?” Relief immediately shone in both Patty’s and Dante’s eyes when Morrison pushed the door of Devil May Cry, replacing the tension in the room with paternal warmth that was so like him. “Morrison! You got to help me. Dante doesn’t want to tell me what happened between him and Y/N” She complained with her small fists clenched tightly, a childish attitude that would have made Morrison smile if it hadn’t been for his surprise.“ You told Patty about Y/N? How weird of you.” “Not for free.” “You know her, Morrison?” There was a gleam in Patty’s eyes, one only curiosity and excitement could create. “By reputation. Everybody in the mercenary business knew who she was and was aware not to touch a hair on her head. I bet even demons knew. Y/N. Tony Redgrave’s beautiful girlfriend. And probably the only girl that could make Dante act somewhat … mature.” He said as he chose his words wisely, though he wasn’t sure they were fit for the memories of Dante he had in mind. “ What are you talking about? I’ve always been mature.” “ Yeah. Because eating strawberry sundaes and pizza everyday is very adult.” Dante frowned, pretty sure he had once heard a similar reprimand coming from someone else’s mean mouth. His mother? No … but close. “Have you been spending time with Trish lately?” “ Stop changing the subject and tell me the story!” Dante eyed at Morrison with an insisting look that meant ‘Get me the hell out of here.’ but today, he would not receive any help from his friend. “You know she won’t let go, Dante. So, should I tell her or should you?” Dante sighed. “Two dresses off my tab and it’s yours.”

TWO DRESSES

Two star-crossed lovers in fair Redgrave City, where we lay our scene …

Are you kidding me?! What? I thought you loved that kind of lovey-dovey crap. Dante! Fine …

The rest of the story was no Shakespearian play. There was no betrayal, no sword fighting, no friend or parent tragically murdered, no forbidden love, no unfair ending, no … Who was Dante kidding? There was all that and worse. Another reason why he hated Shakespeare so much. But when love started to bloom and with it the chances at a normal peaceful life, Dante never considered those dramatic events. Not even a slight second. After all, he was an overly enthusiastic nineteen year-old with the girl of his dreams on his arm and a long-awaited roof above his head. What could go wrong? Especially when all he thought about, all he imagined were simple mornings waking up with the one he loved so dearly and nights with his silver head in between…

“In between what?” “ Y/N’s fingers... Y/N’s fingers of course.” “ You’re not so good at making this story family-friendly you know that, Dante?” “I’m doing my best here, Morrison.”

And his epicurean – though quite lewd - plans were all shared to the utter despair of Y/N’s parents who constantly reminded Y/N of the big mistake she was making in getting involved with a boy like ‘that vermin Tony’. “What about college? What about that confortable life we wanted for you? How can you throw all this away for that boy?” Dante remembered the time Y/N’s mother had said that with a menacing finger and a poisonous tongue. That and the infamous “Is breeding with that trash and raising his filthy bastards truly what you want Y/N?” So long the time that family had generously taken him under their roof for a few days. Guess money does make you stuck-up assholes after all. That’s what he had wanted to reply. But instead, he had just stood still, arms crossed over his chest and had remained silent, out of respect for Y/N and also because, deep down, he was sometimes thinking the same.

He wanted the best for Y/N. He wanted to give her the best life had to offer, all the things she wanted, all the things she needed but he only had a few dollars in his pocket and a list of debts he didn’t really know how the erase. And even though she seemed like she didn’t mind now, what would happen in a few years, or even just a few months. What would happen when the little he had to offer would not be enough anymore?

“Will you love me all the same in a few years?” She asked him, soft hands placed over his strong naked chest and (colour) eyes staring deep in his looking for the truth. “I’m sure I will love you even more if that’s anything possible.” “Then stop worrying and stop with the silly questions already.” And she kissed him with all the comfort and the love she could gather. She kissed him like there was no tomorrow, like there was just them, only them, together, on that mattress on the floor in this furniture-less and decaying shop he had just been allowed to rent for an astronomical amount of money. “A neon sign.” “ What?” Dante asked a bit confused. “You should get a neon sign, like the one my parents had at the restaurant.” She added with a soft smile. “You want me to get a pink neon sign?” He joked and took delight when she laughed. She was so insanely beautiful when she was laughing. “It wasn’t pink. It was red.” “ My coat is red. That sign was definitely pink. And pink doesn’t scream ‘menacing devil-hunter in the house’?” “Menacing devil-hunter?” She repeated, arching an eyebrow suspiciously. “Where?” Dante looked at her smirking mockingly at him. “Watch it you!” He pushed her on the mattress and went to lie his burning yet still sweaty body over hers to place a multitude of hungry lovely kisses on her neck, wishing this moment would never end.

But it ended, as all good things end eventually. Thanks to Enzo Ferino, once again. That piece of shit had the knack to ruin things after all. “Tony! Per l’amore di Dio! Tony!” He shouted from downstairs, visibly alarmed if not terrified. “Speaking of the Italian midget.” Dante sighed, his lips still on Y/N’s skin, thinking that maybe ignoring Enzo would make him leave. “Tony!!!” “Damn it.” “Pretty sure the menacing devil-hunter hiding in this shop will scare him away?” Y/N taunted again and Dante grinned before pressing his lips on Y/N’s one last time. “Oh, he sure will. Wait here. I’ll be right back.” Dante said as he reluctantly left his girl’s loving embrace to put on a pair of pants and go welcome his unwanted guest fidgeting in the hall. “ You’d better.”

“It better be important, Enzo.” Dante demanded as he lazily walked down the creaking stairs to show him how annoyed he was to see him here. “You’ve just ruined a perfect moment with my girl.” “Y/N? Y/N is with you?” The man’s eyes were widened with fear and distress and even though Dante knew how much of a coward Enzo was, he had never seen him that way. “How many girls do you think I have?” The short man leant against the wall and took a deep sigh. “Well, that’s relief I guess.” Dante frowned, unsure if he should remain annoyed or start asking questions. Hell, why not both. “Will you tell me what’s going on?” “A man came to Bobby’s Cellar. Looking for you.” “Not a first.” Dante walked pass Enzo to grab a bottle of whisky he had left early on on one of the many boxes he had not yet unpacked. “One of Denvers’ goons presumably.” He leant against the wall and took a mouthful of amber alcohol, thinking about the girl waiting for him upstairs and how he should have never left her. “No. Not Denvers. That man was working alone and he asked about a certain Dante.” The half-demon froze for a second and his blue eyes darted a brief astonished glance at his partner. A man looking for Dante - Dante, not Tony - was no good news. “I said I didn’t know any Dante but then he described you and I thought che cacchio è. Then he threatened me and … He was scary, Tony” “What did you tell him?” Dante frowned. He had the feeling Enzo had fucked up. He could feel it in his guts. Otherwise he would have never rushed to his new place in the middle of the night to warn him. “That you weren’t here. That you certainly were with Y/N. And then he had me, Tony. I …” “ You mentioned Y/N?” Enzo took an immediate step back when he heard the anger in Dante’s voice. “ I … I’m sorry. He … He tricked me.” Then he took another step and another one, trying to stay as far away as possible from Dante, until his back bumped against the door and he was able to spot a terrifying red flame burning with rage in the mercenary’s eyes who was towering him menacingly. “What did you say about Y/N?” If the weird man in Bobby’s Cellar had scared the shit out Enzo early on, what he had felt back then was nothing in comparison to he was feeling right now. Paralysed with fear, he couldn’t move anymore, couldn’t speak. He could only stare at the raging fire in Dante’s eyes and feel a burning warmth emanating from the young man’s body against him. Were those the flames of Hell? Was he about to be punished for his sin? For betraying his partner? “What did you say?” He shouted and Enzo trembled and squealed like a pig, arms covering his face to protect himself. Yes, his man Tony was about to flay him alive. He was sure of it. “What are you?” He mumbled.

“Tony.” Enzo thanked all the gods for that divine intervention. Though whom he should have truly thanked was Y/N and her soft reassuring voice that had miraculously pulled Dante from his dark rage.

I like her. Dante smiled.

“Stop please.” Enzo felt Dante calm down and when he finally walked away from him, the small man took a deep breath. “If something happens …” Dante didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to and Enzo was already nodding furiously. “I know.” He blindly grabbed the handle behind his back and quickly opened the door to run away as fast as he could.

Dante watched him running in the cold night with a frown until he couldn’t see him anymore. Then he swiftly strode back to Y/N waiting for him on top of the stairs to pull her in a strong protective embrace. And when his lips pressed in her silky hair and she realized he couldn’t let go, she started worrying. “What is it?” She had never felt him like that. “It’s nothing.” He replied softly even though the voice in his head was screaming things like Don’t you get out of my sight, even for a second. I can’t lose you. Not like my mother. I love you so freaking much. “Stay with me tonight.”

But deep down, Dante wasn’t sure this was the smartest decision.

***

“And so was it?” Patty curiously asked as she stared at Dante with her big blue eyes. “ Was it what?” He replied, pretending not to understand. He loved teasing her. “ The smartest decision?” She clarified with an enthusiasm that clearly showed her interest and her will to know more. “ I thought you loved cliffhangers.”

#DEVIL MAY CRY #DMC #DMC FANFICTION #DEVIL MAY CRY FANFICTION #DANTE #DMC DANTE #DANTE X READER #A DOZEN ICE CREAM CONES #A TAB TO ERASE

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