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tiredpandaportfolio · 1 year ago

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Dante trying to make pizza at home for the first time would be a nightmare. RIP the poor kitchen

It takes me way longer to get these out than I like.

It was the closure of his favorite pizza joint that really pushed him over the edge. Financial troubles, they claimed. Dante could maybe understand that. They had the perfect balance of cheap and quality pizza in that part of town--and they were willing to deliver to his alley, something most pizza joints balked at.

With good reason, perhaps.

Still, he told himself. Wasn't the end of the world, was it?

He tried a few other pizzerias. Some did not want to get their delivery crews anywhere near the whole neighborhood. Of those that did, their fare was either way too expensive for his wallet, or some kind of disgrace that should be ashamed of calling itself pizza. He was very particular about his pizza. He hated anything too greasy, or that was all bread and not enough toppings, or when the cheese had a funky smell, or when the store was stingy with the meat.

He struggled through the first two weeks. Just when he thought he’d found some hopefuls, he also found out that they were a lot less forgiving than his old usual about being owed money. They cut him off at once and even spread the word.

“Aaah… what’s a man gotta do for some decent pizza around here,” Dante grumbled as he sat back against his large chair, frustrated.

He knocked the last of the fliers into the wastebasket where others lay crumpled. Every last one of these stores among them had let him down. Sure, he could go out to eat but he’d much rather have it brought to his doorstep so he could enjoy his pizza in peace. The frozen pizzas he’d gotten to tide him over were not cutting it anymore. They were too small, too thin, too stingy with everything. He needed something with substance.

As he glared at the ceiling fan, a dreadful thought came to him. He would have to seek advice. He carefully considered who he could entrust with this secret. Trish was out. She would purposefully just tell him to eat something else, just to amuse herself at his frustration. Lady would make it about money, like she always did. He grumbled. No, there was only one person who’d give him a straight answer… for a price. He sighed. He hated this, but he’d have to bite the bullet.

He sat up and dragged his phone close, wedged the receiver between his ear and shoulder and irritably dialed the number, his finger dragging the dial round and round with practiced speed and mindfulness not to actually break the damn thing. The crackly dialing tone made his leg bounce with frustration.

“C’mon… c’mon…” he muttered through his teeth.

She took her time answering. He heard the click of her answer and then the soft, tired voice: “Hello?”

“Hey Twig,” Dante said, leg still bouncing. “Still sleepin’ in? It’s 5 in the evening.”

“No,” Tess sighed from the other end of the line. “That’s you, ‘till someone walks in and gives you a load of trouble. Or scarfing down another pizza.”

“Funny you should say that,” he said.

“Anyway, what’s happened now?”

Dante smirked tartly. “Now why would you say that, Twig?”

“Because you never call just to chat,” Tess replied in a similar tart tone.

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled. “Listen, I need a tiny favor.”

“If you’re gonna ask me to ‘magic your coat clean’ again I’m going to hang up.”

“Wait, wait, wait–” Dante said quickly. “No, I just wanna ask you something.”

“Oh,” Tess said sheepishly. “What’s up? Ghost stuff?”

“No, no, it’s something dumb,” he admitted. “Listen, this stays between us, alright? I’ve got dirt on you too, don’t forget.”

“Yeah, yeah, just out with it, you fusspot.”

Dante braced himself and breathed in. “Alright, listen. I need your unbiased opinion, as an Italian.”

“Oh boy,” Tess said and he heard her smirking.

“So… what’s the best pizza place in town, right now, in your expert opinion?” he asked quickly.

“The what now…?” she echoed. “Dante… did you call me to ask about a pizzeria? Is this about your usual place closing up?”

Dante grimaced. “Who told you that?”

“Morisson, he saw it closed and predicted you’d lose your mind,” she chuckled. “What, are you gunning for your fix?”

He resisted the urge to hang up. “Please just give me something, I’m so done with this.”

“I’m not some kinda pizza oracle, Dante,” Tess sighed, but he still heard her smiling. “I don’t know man, have you tried Rossellini’s? Oh but they wouldn’t deliver to your end of town, would they…”

Dante growled. “No, they don’t and it bugs me. They have good pizza.”

“Well… not sure what to tell you then, I don’t really do take out,” Tess said. “Unless you want to take a crack at making pizza.”

“Real funny–” Dante started to snark but then he blinked. Really, why didn’t he try that? He might be lazy but this was a matter of his peace of mind. If he just made his own he could have pizza whenever he wanted! And he’d make it the way he wanted!

“I might just do that, Twig,” he said, feeling smug.

There was a weighty pause before she replied. “Ok, just don’t burn your house down. I don’t want to think about what you’d do if all you had left were the clothes on your back–assuming you haven’t pawned them off.”

“Your confidence in me is breathtaking, Twig,” Dante snarked and hung up the phone.

He stood up and stretched. Right. Making pizza should not be that hard.

But it was.

Two days later, Dante stood over his oven, fumbling with a fire extinguisher, covered in flour and his shirt stained with tomato sauce. His oven was open, spewing out a thin wisp of really smelly, dark smoke and he could barely see what was going on inside. Finally he tossed the old handheld extinguisher aside and with a grunt just grabbed the rack bare handed and pulled it out. He winced. What he was holding was a blackened oven rack with what looked like pieces of charcoal stuck to the prongs. He blinked.

“Where’s the rest of it…?” he muttered and then cast his eyes around for a place to put it down on.

To his dismay, the sink was full of dirty bowls, the counter was covered in flour, spilled pizza sauce and the aftermath of a carnage of chopping vegetables and meat. Even the table was covered in dirty pots and kitchenware, except for the one spot where a ratty-looking recipe book was open, its pages stained. He awkwardly elbowed aside some stuff on the small counter and tried to put the hot and charred rack down, having to quickly drop it and move to catch a falling bowl with his foot, resulting in splattering his boot and pantleg with the first, utterly failed version of his pizza sauce.

He hissed out a cuss and picked up the bowl off his foot and put it in the sink with a sigh, grabbed a grimy rag to wipe his boot and clothes down, then stooped to look inside the oven.

“What else was I expecting…” he sighed, staring at the pile of charred remains at the bottom of the oven.

He had stupidly placed the awkwardly shaped hunk of dough straight onto the rack with just some baking paper, because he’d managed to ruin the only baking sheet he had. The previous attempt was welded to the sheet. The kitchen stunk of charred food and Dante straightened up, rubbing his back and looked around. His attempts to cook usually produced a mess but this was beyond even his greatest culinary disasters. He’d stubbornly been trying for the last two days and every time he thought he was making some kind of breakthrough, he’d stumble onto another problem. He’d gotten close a couple of times but the two that looked safe enough to eat were just terrible. Looking at the sad pile of charcoal at the bottom of his oven, Dante sighed.

He shut the oven and then shut his eyes, tilting his head back towards the ceiling. The taste of defeat was so much worse than anything he’d eaten from his attempts and he was starting to just ruefully accept it.

“Haaaah… she’s never gonna let me live this down,” he sighed.

He trudged out of the kitchen and straight to his bathroom to peel the sweaty, dirty clothes off him. He wasn’t attached to these particular ones but he was almost impressed how he’d managed to make more of a mess on them by trying to cook than he’d ever manage by fighting demons. He would’ve been laughing at himself if he wasn’t at the end of his rope and tired. He managed to shower, only to find that there was so much flour and bits of dough stuck in his hair it took work to get it all out without it turning glue-like. When he finally dragged himself out of the shower, the office no longer smelled of burned food and he changed into fresh clothes and tried not to think about what he was going to do about the utter disaster in the kitchen.

He sat heavily into his chair with a groan and leaned back, resting his legs on the desk and stared at the ceiling. He was never good at stomaching defeat and even something as minor as this–which to his mind was not minor at all–was going to really get him down in the dumps for a good while. The last thing he wanted was someone to bother him now.

So of course the phone rang.

Dante grunted, almost wanting to kick the hoarse-sounding machine off his desk but instead he knocked the receiver off the base, with practiced care, and snatched it out of the air to bring it to his ear.

“Devil May Cry…” he grumbled.

“Ah, sounds like someone’s having a bad day,” Tess said.

Dante almost hung up and blurted something vague about her timing.

“Alright, alright, don’t get worked up,” she said, and he frustratingly could hear her grin. “Just wondering how you’re coping. Did you actually try making pizza?”

He almost snapped at her but frankly, it wouldn’t amount to anything and he was too tired to get into a fight. He sighed and leaned back into his chair. “I did.”

There was a pause and he could easily imagine her looking amazed–or horrified. “And? Building still intact?”

He grunted again. “It’s fine. But I sure as hell burned a couple of pizzas.”

“Guess the experiments failed,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“Big time. I’m left with a bomb-zone of a kitchen and an empty stomach,” he confessed.

“Mmm, sounds like it. I take it you’re running on fumes now, huh?”

Dante didn’t want to admit it, but he really hadn’t eaten much since yesterday and he was already feeling like his stomach was sticking to his back. “Kinda,” he grunted. “Why?”

“Well… I haven’t had lunch and I really don’t feel like eating by myself so why don’t you pick your sorry ass up and come over here,” she said. “And before you get any ideas,” she added, just as he was about to protest, “this is not pity. You’ve probably committed unspeakable sins against pizza over the last couple of days and the less we speak of that, the better. Consider this a re-education. I’m going to teach you what good pizza is.”

Dante let out a barking laugh. “You didn’t. You can just make pizza?”

“Dude, I lived in Italy,” she said smugly. “If you can’t make pizza you get deported.”

He sat up properly. “And what, you’re willing to share?”

“Yes. Rejoice, dumbass, I’m gonna feed you. And then teach you how to make a pizza without burning your office down,” she said.

He chuckled. “Careful, Twig, I might have to propose.”

“You’re so funny. Just get over here, I have some dough ready to go. Bring some beers,” she sad. “And before you ask, no, I cannot ‘magic your kitchen clean’. Your mess, your problem.”

“You’re such an evil bitch sometimes,” he grumbled.

“Mmm, yeah, I’m so evil I’m offering to have home-made pizza with you. Now get over here, I can’t wait to see your face when you try my pizza and love it.”

“Don’t get cocky Twig, I might just say I hate it just to spite you.”

Tess laughed loudly. “Hah! Good one. I’ll have you know my pizza makes gods weep.”

“We’ll see about that,” Dante chuckled. “Alright, save me a seat, I’ll bring the beer. I’ll grab one of those tangerine schnapps Roy likes and try and bribe him to rescue my kitchen, or something.”

“Be prepared to be reeeeeally nice to him, then,” she cackled. “See you.”

Dante grumbled and hung up after her, then stood up and stretched. Actually, he really should gracefully take this defeat and make the best he could out of it. Having pizza and some beers with Tess did not sound all that bad… her mockery aside, anyway, because she was never going to let him live this down.

#devil may cry #panda writes #dante #dmc #dmc dante #ask panda: answered #ask panda

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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago

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About Time (Reid Fic)

Summary: Reader’s offer to help Morgan renovate one of his properties makes Spencer jealous enough to confess what he never could before.

A/N: I try to avoid specific Reid eras in my works so that it can be up to you how you imagine him, but please just imagine seasons 1 or 2 Spencer - I’m telling you it’ll make the experience richer. Also, I might improve this fic in the near future bc I’m not entirely happy with it. Category: Drabble, Fluff Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: None Word Count: 2.5k Playlist: Would You Be So Kind by Dodie

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

Clink … Clink … Clink …

The repetitive noise was barely discernible at first, then it became all that I could focus on.

In an attempt to find the source, I looked up from my paperwork and scanned the room. It only took me half a second to discover that Morgan was the culprit.

From across the round table, I watched as Derek absentmindedly stirred his coffee and sugar together, making a ‘clink’ noise each time his spoon hit the rim of the cup. This wouldn’t have been bothersome had it not persisted for more than 10 minutes which, by all accounts, is plenty of time for the sugar to dissolve.

“Derek… ” I sort of sang, trying to capture his attention as nicely as possible.

“Derek.” I repeated, this time a little less quietly and a little more sharply. Still, my voice did nothing to stop the noisy stirring of his coffee. I stayed silent for a second, just in case he finally noticed I was speaking to him, but when he didn’t, I gave a concerned look to Spencer beside me as if to ask if he was seeing what I was and he returned just the same expression of confusion.

That’s when I knew something was wrong.

“Derek!” I said even louder, finally catching his attention.

His head snapped in my direction, his ghost-like countenance falling away after looking directly at me. I was relieved to see proof of life had been regained behind his eyes. The abrupt reaction made me squint harder in his direction to decipher what was truly going on. “Is everything okay? You were kind of zoning out just now.”

He sighed while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “It’s nothing. I just had a late night last night and I didn’t go to bed till three this morning.”

“Oh?” I asked coyly. “And what was her name?” I brought my mug to my lips to hide my growing smirk behind the rim.

He didn’t catch on right away, which to me was more than enough evidence that he wasn’t well. He was usually the first to be aware of an innuendo, maybe even the one to be making it. “Whose name?”

“The girl that kept you up till three this morning.” I mimicked his voice in crude yet playful imitation.

To this, he shook his head and rolled his eyes with a grin. “Alright, get your pretty lil’ head out of the gutter, Kitten. I was busy fixing up a property I got down in Emporia. Lost track of time. That’s all.”

Whether or not he was hiding something more, I didn’t care anymore. He’d piqued my interest in this new topic. “Emporia? That’s like 2 or 3 hours away.”

His eyebrows lifted in agreement. “Yeah, like I said - late night.”

Not even trying to tempt him with my words, I simply remarked, “But I mean it can’t be that hard though, right? Fixing up the house?”

There was no verbal response from him, only a mirthless chuckle.

I was less careful with my words than I should’ve been, letting them flow through my mouth without filtering them first. “I’m just saying, I worked with Habitat For Humanity for years. We built thousands of houses from scratch, each of them within a matter of days.”

He sat up in his seat and leaned forward to assert himself. It was nearly the same mannerisms he would display in an interview when he wanted to maintain dominance. “Well, that’s because you got how many people working on one house?”

When I didn’t answer, he simply tapped the table and leaned back comfortably in his seat, prematurely relishing in a self-proclaimed victory. “Yeah, exactly. Whereas, it’s just little ol’ me fixing up these properties.”

“Okay, then I’ll help you.”

He only snickered in response, lending way for me to believe he didn’t trust that I’d provide any sort of productive assistance.

“I will!” I insisted. “Since you’re so convinced those houses were only built as fast as they were because it was a group effort, I want to prove to you that it’s actually because I’m just a fast worker.”

“It’s not a race, Kitten. All I said was it took me a while to fix up the house. I don’t need you to help. And I wouldn’t be paying you even if you did, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m not doing this for money,” I reasserted. “I’m doing this for pride. I know I’m right, and I want you to know it, too.”

It’s worth mentioning that Derek and I made these kinds of bets all the time. Our friendship was practically built on the foundation of competition. The first interaction I ever had with him was when he came up to me while I was arranging my desk to ask what I thought the odds were that he could toss his paper ball into the trashcan across the bullpen.

Years Ago . . .

“What are the chances I’ll make the shot?” I heard a deep, unfamiliar voice inquire from behind me.

“You’re aiming for the trashcan all the way over there? No way.” This voice I knew was Elle’s. She’d been the second person to introduce herself to me and if I had to guess, the deeper voice belonged to the guy I recalled sitting diagonally from her. I made eye contact with him when I initially walked in, but he hadn’t taken the time to introduce himself to me, nor I to him. He seemed a little preoccupied … making a paper ball and all.

“Actually, if Morgan’s throw had specific arc, the trajectory of the ball would -”

“He’s not making it, Reid.” Elle cut off the small, almost mousy voice promptly, shutting down any ‘pro-Morgan-making-the-shot’ argument he was about to make.

You could get a lot from just listening. Some might call it eavesdropping, but I like to call it being observant, and from what I’d observed

A) The one throwing the ball was Morgan.

B) The smart-sounding one was Reid.

C) Reid was a proponent of Morgan, so I could assume they were close friends.

D) There were three very distinct, very different personalities in this general vicinity of desks alone.

“O’ ye of little faith! Gimme a break, Elle. You’re just busting my balls ‘cause Reid came to me about Lila before he came to you.”

“That has nothing to do with the fact that I’m right.”

“No, but it means you have bias.” Derek retorted.

“Fine then. If it means that much to you to have an unbiased opinion, let’s ask someone impartial - like Anderson.”

“Actually, I have a better idea,” The deep voice said as soon as I’d placed the last item on my desk - a stack of sticky notes in the shape of a cat’s face that’d been gifted to me the moment I exited the elevator by Penelope Garcia.

“Excuse me, Kitten,” The deep voice purred. “You think I could get this ball into that trash bin right over there?”

It took me a second to register that he was addressing me until I realized where the nickname originated from and that it had belonged to me - I could thank Penelope for that.

“Oh, um …” I looked around the room like somehow it would have my answer. In some ways, it did.

I made contact with Reid first. He smiled weakly at me with tender awkwardness that melted my heart a little bit. Meanwhile, Elle’s eyes were luring me to join her on the dark side and say he wouldn’t make it. To be fair, riling him up seemed like fun. I’d be on Elle’s good side, gain her approval, and if I executed my jest playfully enough, I’d be on Morgan’s good side, too.

“No shot in hell, big guy.”

Present Time . . .

That’s how it all started - this sibling-like rivalry. Ever since then, we’ve been challenging each other like our lives depended on it. And if I had to make it my life’s mission to win this most recent bet, then so be it.

“Alright, kitten, I’ll take you up on that offer. I’ll pick you up at 9 on Saturday.”

We sealed the deal with a cross-table handshake, and at that moment, I hadn’t realized it - only when I thought back to it, did I notice - Reid had been watching the entire interaction unfold. Misinterpreting every painstaking second of it.

_ _ _

Sticking true to his word, Derek had taken up my offer in spades. Not the least bit shy in delegating me each and every duty there could possibly be.

I’ll admit, he used my pride to his advantage. Because while I was practically doing all the handy-work imaginable inside the property, he was resting on his laurels outside, probably taking up the view of rolling green hills that went on forever just beyond the front yard.

It just so happened that that would be our maintained, respective locations for the unexpected arrival of Derek’s very first (very unhappy) guest.

I was inside painting when I heard the placid squeak of Derek getting up from his Adirondack chair on the wraparound porch. I remember peeking my head out of the doorway for a second to see if he was finally going to come inside and help me, but lo and behold, I caught him walking further away from the entrance. While I might’ve given an eye roll of annoyance at the action, I thought nothing of it. Not until I heard Derek speaking to an eerily familiar secondary voice.

“What are you doing here?” I could hear Derek ask. My ears had perked up like a dog on high alert.

“Don’t play dumb. You’re trying to … to -” The second voice stammered.

“Spit it out, kid!”

“You’re trying to steal my girl!” Whoever it was, was desperate to speak with conviction, maybe even malice, to prove some level of strength that could match Derek’s, but they tried and failed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Steal your girl? What the hell are you talking about, man?”

“You know I like her! And yet you’re just hanging out with her alone now? On one of your desolate properties? Can’t you see how suspicious that looks? You’re supposed to be my friend.”

I’d stopped painting completely at this point so I could take asylum behind the closed door. I could place that voice anywhere, and I needed to press my ear against the only thing separating it from me to confirm what I already knew.

“Reid, I am your friend,” And there it was. Reid? “And as your friend, I’m telling you: lower your voice unless you want her to hear you.”

“Don’t patronize me. Just tell me,” Spencer, if anything, spoke louder. Perhaps he did want me to hear him, or he simply wanted to defy Derek. “Why do you flirt with her?”

“Flirt?” Derek seemed appalled at the word. It would’ve been offensive that he was disgusted at the thought of engaging with me in that manner had I not felt the same way. What we were doing was not flirting - by any stretch of the imagination.

“You know what I’m talking about. You call her ‘Kitten,’ you both make sexual innuendos that you think fly over my head, you invite her to come over.”

“Slow your roll, Pretty Boy. First of all, ‘Kitten’ is just a nickname I gave her the first time we met because I didn’t know what her actual name was. You know that - you were there. Second, the sexual innuendos are just playful jabs at the fact that I sleep around. Low hanging-fruit. Third, inviting her to come over might seem suspicious, but if you walk in there right now, you’ll see that nothing is going on between us. She’s just here to help.”

I wanted any excuse to walk out there myself and announce my nearby presence. Confront Spencer and tell him I heard everything. Ask him where any of this was coming from. How he could think, for even a second, that there was something between me and Morgan.

Turns out, I didn’t need an excuse. I had already walked out.

Spencer gulped hard when he saw me. And for that I felt sorry for him. He looked so unlike himself. His hair was disheveled like he’d ran his fingers through it a million times out of stress. His outfit was strangely untidy, the buttons of his cuff unclasped. “Could you ... did you-”

“I heard everything,” I clarified to the dumbfounded shell of a man standing at the base of Morgan’s stairs.

It was a triangle of stares between us all. Exchanging quizzical glances in a battle of wills to see who would fold first. I was looking at Reid, Reid was looking at me, then he looked at Morgan, who looked back at him, then at me. Like I said, a triangle of stares.

“Um ... I’ll leave you two to talk. I’ll just be inside.”

I suppose there were worse ways to finally get Morgan off his ass and working.

Reid trailed Morgan with his eyes, while I simply waited for the sound of the door shutting behind me. It took a few more seconds until one of us had the gall to speak.

“Did you mean what you said? About liking me?” This question that I posed went unanswered for what felt like minutes. Looking at Reid, I could tell he wanted to say something, he just didn’t know what.

The soul was willing, but the flesh was weak.

“If you’re not ready to admit it, that’s okay. But then why did you really come here, Spencer? To yell at Morgan for possibly making a move on me? Because now’s your chance. Make your move, Spence.” I descended the stairs, stopping to stand on the very last step so I’d hover a mere inch above him. “Make a move.”

Make a move, he did.

Warm, clammy hands that were disproportionately bigger than the rest of his body caught my face so that unbelievably, inconceivably soft lips could make their fierce attack with no resistance. His fingers laced through my hair until his hand found the nape of my neck. He used that as leverage to pull me impossibly closer.

When he was just one step away from sucking my soul out of me, I laid my palm on his chest and pushed him slightly backward. I think I heard him laughing when I did this, probably to hide the shame of letting himself commit so fully to the moment that he forgot just how intense his passion was.

His eyes fluttered open and his lips were still contorted in a pucker. It took him a second, but it finally came.

“I meant what I said,” He confessed ever so nonchalantly as though it were the easiest thing in the world to him, despite being unable to come even close to admitting it just minutes before. “I like you. A lot.”

It was me who laughed then, both from the sheer elation hearing him say that brought me and the distant, exasperated comment that came from within the house.

“Well, finally! It’s about damn time!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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writella · 4 years ago

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Dating Luke Patterson

Luke Patterson x reader

World count: 3.8k (yes, for a headcanon, let’s not talk about it. Or is this normal? Idk.)

A/N: I made this WAY too long but hopefully you can think of this as your ultimate guide because of it, enjoy!

• Luke is a VERY affectionate and loving boyfriend, both physically and emotionally.

• Physically:

- This boy would want to touch you anywhere and everywhere and be around you all the time.

- He’d caress your face, stand behind you and rub your shoulders and arms, hug your waist or shoulders from behind, play with your hair, fidget with your bracelets or whatever accessories you’d have on, play with your hands, have his hand on the center of your back...

- Even if he saw an eyelash on your face he wouldn’t hesitate to get it for you instead of telling you about it.

- Anyway to touch you, he’d go for it.

- He’d like to kiss your nose or your forehead when he says goodbye to you.

- When you’re alone he’d like Eskimo kisses.

- He just basks in being in your presence.

- Whether you liked to receive / give physical affection or not, you always have to remember to be a little extra affectionate with him because he really enjoys it.

- He likes knowing you’re there and that you care. He does that for everyone else, so if you do it, he’d really appreciate it.

- He likes the lingering touches the best, like intertwining your fingers together, or when you play with his hair (even though sometimes he doesn’t want it to get messed up), or you rubbing his shoulders like he does to you.

• Emotionally:

- He would be your number one supporter.

- He’d push to try new things or to speak your mind even if you’re afraid.

- He’d compliment you all the time. Saying that the band would be hopeless without you, or by telling you how beautiful he thinks you are, or how talented you are, or by marveling at your artistic or scholastic accomplishments.

- Tell you uplifting stories or give you words of encouragement when you’re feeling down.

• You love that he’s always so smiley and how his nose crinkles and eyes get all squinty when he’s cheesin’ hard.

• You think he’s sunshine personified by the way he is able to brighten up not only your day, but everyone’s day.

• He thinks you’re an angel because of the way you lighten up everyone’s life. Not to mention how you are the first to help, listen, or give advice to anyone in the band.

• Before you start dating, his heart would beat frantically when he saw you.

• After you’re together though, that would fade, but not because the excitement he feels when you’re around would go away, but because you’d become his safe place. Knowing that the person he could confide to always was around would bring a warm and content feeling all around him.

• Luke would be a romantic. We see this because of the way he always sees the bigger picture by constantly looking on the brighter side of things and by the way he writes poetry within his song lyrics, so he would treat your relationship the same way. He’d write you notes or make the band throw you a private concert or play an acoustic cover or original song just for you.

• He’d let you wear his chains or bracelets from time to time or you’d steal them.

• You’d like to play with the rings on his hand.

• You would probably get him some rings or chains to add to his collection.

• Getting a reaction out of you is his favorite thing.

• No matter how far into your relationship you are he’d still like to flirt in order to make your blush.

• If you were a writer / singer / musician he would ask you what you think of some lyrics he’s written or is thinking about writing down, but even if you weren’t, he would ask you anyways because he values your opinions and ideas.

• He either let you take or you’d steal some of his band tees. He’d get major heart eyes seeing you in them. Thinking you looked gorgeous in. his. clothes.

• He’d always give you a wink when he was on stage and saw you in the crowd or backstage.

• If you didn’t know how to play an instrument, he would want to teach you to play guitar. He just wants to share his passion.

• He’d introduce you to music you’d never listened to and you’d introduce him to 2000s + recent stuff that you think he’d like.

• When he’s in your room he’s be so nosy and look through all your stuff, but honestly, when you were in his room (if this was 90s) you’d do the same (he’d have so many CDs and other weird interesting stuff.)

Dating Ghost!Luke:

• So you can see him!

• Maybe you’re Julie’s close friend or sibling.

• You’d really enjoy that you and Julie get to have such special friendships with all three of the guys.

• Perhaps you’d never had a sense of belonging like that, and now you had a group of people you could always rely on to be there for you and understand you.

• I think it would make you and Julie closer.

• Luke would obviously be a goner for you right when he saw your face, but since he just loves to be close to everyone you couldn’t tell.

• You’d probably think if he had a crush on anyone it was Julie because of how great they look when they sing together despite how sweetly or flirtatiously he would talk to you.

• You’d just assume he was like that with everyone.

• Julie, Alex, and Reggie would see how much he liked you though.

• You and Julie would teach the guys about the internet, different innovations, etc.

• Luke’s way of getting to talk to you more, other than pestering you with questions about yourself, would definitely be asking you about how to do this and that online, or just to talk to you about how things have changed so you can put it into perspective for him.

• He’d really like listening to your voice. He would hang onto every word.

• And you really liked his voice too, both singing and speaking, so whatever questions he asked you, you would always forward them back to him. You liked how passionately he spoke about everything. You also, hung onto every word.

• If you couldn’t touch, despite knowing that there was obviously more than friendship going on between the two of you, you’d be reluctant to tell each other of your feelings.

• When the truth comes out however you decide to make it work.

• But if you could touch, Luke would of course be the happiest guy on Earth and never let go of you.

• The band remembers to give you guys alone time in the garage or in Julie’s / your room sometimes, so you can just speak freely with him.

• But you guys also take walks on the beach or the park while you pretend you're on the phone or have your headphones in so you can have a change of scenery.

• You would be the glue of the group / band.

• If you weren’t a part of the band (like singing / playing an instrument specifically) it would probably be easiest for you to see their band spats in an unbiased and reasonable manner.

• You’d make sure to ask Alex how he’s doing because you know he’s always got something on his mind, but doesn’t always share unless asked.

• You’d make sure to always find something fun to do with Reggie from time to time, or just start up a conversation with him about mundane things.

• You see how he likes to watch Ray and Carlos all the time, so you wonder if maybe he just wants some kind of familial connection, and you decide that it’ll be you.

• I think he’d appreciate how you take the time to ask him questions and listen to his answers seriously, despite how he says things in such a humorous tone, and you’d appreciate how surprisingly observant he is (e.g. he noticed Ray was worried about Julie by how he had been stress eating all week. Reggie is a sweet boy who cares, guys.)

• You realize you both have hidden traits that no one gives you credit for except each other.

• Luke would like how you had a unique relationship with everyone and truly put in the effort to make sure each one is personalized between you and that person. It reminded him of himself— Always trying to give a little love to everyone — It would make him that much more fond of you.

• You’d settle arguments between the guys.

• Or maybe even little arguments between Julie and Luke. Although neither could stay mad at each other for long (honestly being “mad” at each other wouldn’t even be the word), but sometimes they took opposing sides to different situations like where to add a certain verse or about a poor decision Julie felt the guys made (like haunting Bobby or going to Caleb’s), so you’d be there to give an outside opinion or to calm the heated moments.

• He’d like to stare at you whenever he could. When you were in the garage talking to Julie or Flynn or if it’s 90s!Luke he’d do it in class or in the hallways.

• Either Julie or Alex would say he’s a creep for staring but Luke would say he’s just admiring.

• Little did he know you did the same.

• And now, speaking of 90s Luke...

Dating Alive!Luke:

• Okay, so we’re in the 90s and he’s in high school.

• He either met you because you share a class together and he thought you were pretty (and you thought he was beautiful, of course) or you and Alex shared a class together and he befriended you.

• Let’s say it’s Alex: you guys would bond over the fact that presentations are stupid and only done to make people feel uncomfortable and ultimately humiliate themselves.

• When Alex didn’t have a class with Reggie and or Luke he’d feel lonely but if you were there, you could now be a person he could go to, so you two could be lonely together.

• Even if you guys didn’t have much in common the fact that you were easy to talk to, always decided to be partners with him, or help each other out in class gave him comfort, so maybe one day he’d ask you to sit with him at lunch or see a gig his band managed to get.

• You go (You can choose which, I’m making it a choose your own adventure for about a whole second. Enjoy.) and boom enter Luke and his sunshine eyes, pretty hair, GORGEOUS arms, a muscle tee, along with his classic vans and you’re like , WHOA, but you try to hide it.

• And Luke is like, WHOA, but he tries to hide it.

• And Alex is like, “Of course.”

• And Reggie is like, “Hi I’m Reggie. We’re Sunset Curve, tell you friends.”

• And you’re like, “But I don’t have (m)any friends.”

• And Alex is like, “That’s okay I only have three (3) friends and before that I had none!”

• And Luke is like, “I’ll be your friend 👀”

• And Reggie is like, “By the way he’s looking at you, I think he wants to be more than just ‘friends’ 😏😉”

• And Luke is like, “🤡”

• And Alex is like, “🤡”

• And Reggie is like, “🤠?”

• And you’re like, *internally SCREAMING*

• Here comes that mutual pining.

• Alex starts to bring you around more often which helps you to get closer to all three of them, but especially Luke, who will ask you a series of never ending questions about yourself.

• You think Luke is just really nice and that's why he's so friendly when you’re around, but in actuality he just wants to know all about you.

• Alex and Reggie would bother him about it when you’re not around.

• One day, after he just couldn’t take it anymore he’d finally ask you out, or just kisses you unexpectedly because Luke acts before he thinks sometimes.

• The rest is history.

• Anyway...

• He’s a sweetie and probably wouldn’t really talk crap about teachers, but I know he’s not into school either.

• That being said: he’d totally get you to skip one day or quite a few days if he gets you to agree saying “please, please, please,” or telling you that you can afford to miss because you’re so much smarter than him, or just giving you so many kisses you can’t think straight.

• Skipping activities would include:

- Finding some random coffeehouse for him and the band to play impromptu while you watch.

- Adventures in the park or woods: he’s find a grassy place and sing songs to you on his guitar or you’d do something silly like play tag because Luke is a child.

- Sit on the trunk of Alex or Reggie’s car (let's say one of them has one) and have a quick make out session or just talks out life (probably his parental issues) it depends on how he’s feeling that day.

- Or finally, you guys would explore around the school and find rooms you’d never been in or see what the back of the auditorium looked like for the first time. If you guys ever get caught he’d either tell you to hide or run or find some way to get you out of it. He would take full blame, never wanting to get you in trouble.

• Once again, being the romantic he is, he’d probably take you to your first concert, write you cards, come by your locker after every period, take you out on weekends or weekdays whenever he could.

• He’d try to be a gentleman in front of your parents, really wanting them to like him, and he’d try to respect your curfew if you had one, but sometimes he would like to be rebellious (e.g. when he tells Julie to sneak out the window for their first gig) and try to get you to sneak out, especially if it was for something really special he planned. Ex. a moonlight serenade. But again, sometimes this boy doesn’t think, so he’d probably just get you to come out so you could kiss, or talk, or talk and kiss.

• All around, you guys would just have a blast together because Luke’s mission is to bring joy to your life.

• He genuinely loves seeing people happy and if you two were in a relationship, your happiness would definitely be a top top top priority.

• He would burn you CDs.

• He’d love to listen to them with you because he just loves sharing music with you and he just wants to see your reactions right then and there.

• He’s introduce you to new things and you would talk for hours about music you both liked or movies you loved.

• He’d like to hold your hand in the halls.

• Send you notes in class or even throw them at you or if you were sitting too far apart.

• He’d even tell someone to tell you he had something to say. Down the chain his call would go till the last person closest to you tells you that Luke is asking for you. You’d look and all he’d say is “hi” with the goofiest smile.

• You’d either have no choice but to smile back because of how infectious he is, or if you had enough willpower, you’d roll your eyes and look away. If the latter, he would try again and again till he got you to give in.

• He’d mimic or make faces when the teacher or a classmate said something stupid.

• He’s a little needy that way. He just wants your attention and affection.

• Again, he’d do anything to see you smile and equally as important, bothering you is the only joy he gets out of class whenever he’s not in a class with the guys.

• You’d proofread his essays or any writing that was for any type of English class because when he’s really feeling up to it, he actually puts in effort in his writing assignments.

• You tell him that he’s a good writer and that if the band thing doesn’t work out he could always become a music / poetry teacher.

• “Too bad the band thing is going to work out,” he’d assure you.

• You believed him, but you always just want to let him know he has far more talents than what he, or his teachers, for that matter give him credit for.

• Despite his major confidence in his musical abilities he feels like he falls short in other aspects, something you were surprised to learn about him, so you do your best to compliment him and encourage him.

• But especially in school since he already thinks of it in such low standards.

• When his parents fight with him about the band, you're his safe space. Sometimes he doesn’t like to tell Alex and Reggie about all the gritty details because they have family issues too, but he can always vent to you.

• You like hanging out in his room. His personality is written all over it. Band posters, movie posters, ideas for songs as well as song lyrics he loves taped up to the wall on scrap pieces of paper and sticky notes, it’s a little messy but it’s mostly just clothes and crumpled paper on the floor.

• Unfortunately, you don’t hang there too much because Luke doesn’t always like being around his parents.

• His parents like you though and enjoy when you’re around the house because it means Luke is actually around too.

• They know you encourage him at school and his mother specifically knows he needs that extra support and appreciates you for it.

• She’s told you that she wishes she could show Luke that she wants to give him that, but sometimes Luke gets too preoccupied with his music and has the notion that just because she is concerned about his career choice that she is totally against him.

• Speaking of that, despite how much Luke loves being your boyfriend and tries his best to show you how much he loves you, he’s not always perfect.

• Sometimes music and the band comes between you two as well.

• When he’s really driven on a song idea, whether it be working on the lyrics to a song, composing the music to it , rehearsing it with the band, etc., it will take all his attention.

• When he gets a fixation on something, he can be very single minded.

• All he’ll want to do is be with his thoughts and guitar or with the band that he forgets to check in with you.

• Once you tell him though, he will feel terrible about it. Not seeing how his passion can make him so blind at times.

• “I just get really into it, you know? I’m sorry! I can make it up to you.” His bottom lip would jut out and his eyes would drop dopily. He always looked like such a puppy, you could stay mad for long.

• “How are you going to prove you’re really sorry?” you’d ask knowing this wasn’t the first nor will it be the last time he gets “really into” his music.

• “I’m dropping everything today. It’s just you and me. Promise.” And he’d mean it.

• When Luke knows he’s at fault he will always try 110% to make it right. He doesn’t like it when he hurts people, especially you. He feels like he’s failed in a way.

• He’d show you new snippets of new songs he’s working on.

• You guys would talk endlessly about favorite bands and he would introduce you to ones you’d never heard before.

• You liked when he talked about his favorite musicians. Seeing someone talk passionately about something they loved was always beautiful to witness, but when Luke did it, it was next level.

• He’d literally buzz everywhere, talk super fast, and bounce around. He vibrates happiness and those are the moments where you knew for sure why he was so determined on his goals to make the band work. The love he has is so intense, so undeniable, so unbreakable. You hoped you could find something you loved like that one day. Other than him, of course.

• Oh, wait? Is that how you figure out you love him? For his passionate and brave spirit that did nothing but put a smile on your face all day, everyday? You couldn’t even compute the thought. It felt right, of course, but it was scary.

• You didn’t tell him. I think he’d say I love you first anyway and you’d happily say it back, finally releasing the beautiful realization you held inside for so long.

• He’d want you to go to every gig they got.

• “I can’t do it without you,” he’d say.

• Sometimes he knew you couldn’t though, because he and the band would only get slots in the middle of the night sometimes, or they’d do all-nighters around the city playing on the outsides of clubs just to get noticed.

• Sometimes they would get in trouble, or even ban from some places and he didn’t want you to be a part of that. He’d tell you that he wants you to get your sleep.

• But if it was the weekend, or the summer, or just a day you decided you have the time to be rebellious, you’d love to cheer them on, or maybe you would even be the getaway driver when workers would try to kick them out.

• You’d help Luke and the boys with their homework or school work a lot.

• Whether you were smart or an average student they’d think you were a genius and appreciate how you remind them of assignment deadlines from the classes you’d share. They only went to school to spend time together and outside of school was for music, so they’d probably fail without you.

• Luke would be the first to thank you every time.

• You would be there for him when he ran away. You’d tell him that maybe he should go back and talk to his parents or that maybe it would be best to at least finish high school, but he dismisses both as options immediately, saying that he knows what he wants. That school nor his parents are going to give it to him, so why bother.

• You support him and believe in his dream, but you still worry from time to time. You decide that it's his choice and that you love him, so you just make sure that he is eating, sleeping, and that you’re there for him if he needs someone to talk to or just someone to hug.

Now back to the general stuff:

• He’d give you a nickname. Personally, I think he’d try to shorten your name in some way that hopefully no one else calls you yet so he can feel special.

• Alex and Reggie would probably start calling you by that nickname sometimes too soon after that.

• As for usual nicknames, I think sometimes when he greets you he’d call you “beautiful”

• “Hey beautiful, how you doin’?” Lets pretend that he watched the first season of Friends in ‘94 and then watched the rest on your laptop after he comes back and be obsessed like Charlie.

• He’d make your laugh a lot. Sometimes because he’s flirty or silly but other times it was because he could just be really dumb (in a sweet way, of course.)

• You would wonder why everyone would call Reggie the clueless one. It seemed like all the guys shared one braincell and Alex just hogged it most of the time.

• He’d love kissing. I don’t think he’d do full on make outs in the halls or in front of the band (not because he's shy though), but when you two were alone, in the garage or in each other's rooms he would be so down, there is no stopping him, and he’d try to make them last as long as he could.

• He would ask for good luck kisses before a show just to get you to touch him, as always.

• When you saw him shirtless for the first time your breath would be taken away. You knew he was probably toned because those sleeveless tees but you still couldn’t predict just how GORGEOUS and HOT he would look, whew.

• He’s probably get cocky for a second because of your speechless reaction.

• But that confidence would go right out the door whenever he saw you without a shirt, his eyes would be blown, totally star struck.

• He’d like to cuddle or rest his head on your lap, especially when he needs to relax from the stress he’s feeling due to his home life or from writing. You’d gently stroke his hair. It would soothe him.

• He’d also like it when you rest your head on his lap too. In those moments, he would take it as full permission to touch you and kiss you up, no complaints.

• Overall, Luke would just love you up and write you pretty songs forever and ever. Best boyfriend.

Thank you for reading! Who else wants to have this boy as their handsome and adorable ghost boyfriend? I love him.

#julie and the phantoms #my work #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson fic #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson #julie and the phantoms fic #julie and the phantoms imagine

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fanmoose12 · 3 years ago

Text

catch me if you can

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Erwin Smith, Kenny Ackerman

Genres: Mystery / Romance

Summary: The Ackerman duo. Just the mention of this name filled Hange with so many feelings. Mostly, when she reread the files of their cases over and over, until her eyes watered, she felt pricking annoyance. Sometimes, when she stared at the dead bodies of those scarce unfortunates who stumbled upon their crimes, she was filled with hatred and a pushing need for revenge. Hange couldn’t deny, however, there were times when she marveled at the impudence of their crimes. And, when she was investigating the Ackerman’s cases and saw just how meticulously planned they all were, she couldn’t help but feel something close to fascination.No one knew who they were. No one had seen their faces, no one knew their true names. Almost everyone knew of their crimes.Hange was determined to unravel every last one of their secrets. She will put an end to their crimes and then she will get the elusive Ackermans behind bars.

Chapter 7/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

The city he had chosen to stay in was terrible.

It was noisy, it was crowdy, and the constant heat was making Levi go insane.

And while the city’s loudness and the amount of people in it made it easier for him to blend in, get lost in plain sight and all that bullshit, the heat— the fucking heat, gods, it was killing him.

Levi didn’t like cold weather, despised all the layer of clothes he had to put on just to get to the nearest supermarket and buy instant noodles, he hated the snow with passion he carried since his childhood, he thought that winter was the worst season of them all.

Oh, how wrong he was.

The heat was making his skin crawl. Even in just tank top and shorts, he felt too hot. Drinking cold water, taking cold showers, none of it helped. Levi turned the air conditioning in his room on maximum, but the motel he was staying at was shitty, his room was shitty, and, as a result, the air conditioning was shitty too.

Levi was sick of it. His skin was constantly clammy and sticky, he couldn’t sleep at night, there was never enough air around him, and walking around the city during the daytime made him seriously consider whether he was actually a vampire.

The sun… could it really burn so much? It didn’t used to be so unbearable before.

But apart from that… Levi was starting to accommodate to his new life.

Leaving his hometown behind, he decided to let go of his previous habits too. He got himself a job - not a respectable, but at least an honest one.

Being a janitor in a shitty bar after spending most of his life as a thief was almost… therapeutic.

The vomit on the walls and piss on the floors were enraging him to the point of seeing red and sometimes he wanted to break a leg of every asshole who didn’t know when they had enough and went to make a mess in the toilet, but… working there was therapeutic nevertheless. And a definite improvement too.

At least, his life wasn’t in danger anymore and he didn’t have to run away from police.

Although, he wouldn’t mind running away from a certain police officer. Perhaps, this time he would let her catch him. Perhaps, then his heart would stop clenching in pain every time he thought about Hange.

Perhaps, then he’d be able to let go.

He tried letting go, forgetting about Hange, just as he tried to put behind his life of crime. Unfortunately, putting Hange behind proved to be that much harder.

Some nights, when the heat was especially bad, he felt especially lonely and the shitty whiskey at the shitty bar he was working at didn’t do the trick, he’d snuck a look at how Hange was doing. He’d open his phone, scroll through a news feed. If he’d get lucky, there would a recording of some press conference with Hange at the center of it all.

Apparently, she was doing well. Her shoulder was almost healed, although sometimes she still winced, when gesticulating too frantically. But the paleness in her face that was present when he had visited her at the hospital was long gone, and at the few press conferences that allowed Levi to catch a glimpse of her, Hange’s cheeks were adorned by healthy, rosy blush. Her hair was just as wild, just as messy, and her voice carried the same inspiring conviction.

Whether Hange found out the truth about him or not, he didn’t know, but she had moved past Ackermans’ case and during the time Levi was getting used to his new life she alredy solved two robberies.

She was working on a new case now, something about a young girl who had mysteriously vanished. Levi didn’t bother to find out the details, the name Krista Lenz meant nothing to him, but nevertheless, he wished that Hange would succeed. She deserved that, her quick wit and determination were meant to be recognized and celebrated.

That bright, happy smile on her face, the one she was sporting during the conference that discussed one of the solved robberies, it suited Hange so much. Levi wished she’d wear it more often.

He wished he’d see it more often, but well… some things just weren’t meant to be.

Strangely so, Kenny didn’t contact him even once. No obnoxious phone call, no mysterious messages or weird gifts. There was no sign of him for almost two months, and Levi would have started worrying, would have tried to contact the man himself, if… if Kenny wasn’t Kenny.

His uncle was like a cockroach, Levi was one hundred percent sure that nothing and no one could cause him any harm. And if there was someone who actually could do this, Kenny would have harmed them back, ten times worse.

Still, the thoughts about Kenny lingered at the back of his mind, and memories about Hange did the same irritating thing. It made Levi feel awfully nostalgic sometimes, borderline melancholic. And fairly quickly he found out there was nothing he could do about it. No amount of whiskey or dirty toilets could chase that sadness away. That sadness was a new part of his new life.

Maybe, it was better than always living on the edge.

Luckily, he didn’t feel so lonely all the time, his colleagues at the bar made sure of that.

And while his boss, a bald, gross man called Shadis definitely wasn’t a joy to have around, two others – a barmaid named Sasha and waiter Connie were so much better.

They were annoying in their own right, of course. Sasha had a weird obsession with food, Connie’s sense of humor left much to be desired, and together both of them were so damn loud, but for brats who barely stepped into adulthood, they provided a fairly enjoyable company.

They let Levi take his mind off certain things, and they kept him from falling into the abyss of loneliness and depression.

They also opened up the side of him that Levi wasn’t even aware of.

Connie had once mentioned in a passing that his mother had died years ago, and whatever happened to Sasha’s family, she wasn’t living with them anymore, sharing a small flat with Connie and another guy, Jean.

In Levi’s humble, unbiased opinion, Jean was a self-centered, pompous jerk. He wasn’t working in the bar with his two friends, and instead had involved himself in some shady shit with a local gang, which apparently terrified the whole neighborhood. Levi wanted to tell the boy that he was a fucking idiot, if he thought that messing with criminals was a good idea, but he doubted that Jean would listen. Luckily, Jean wasn’t around too often and visited the bar only, when he was miserable about some girl he had a crush on, or whenever he wished to get drunk for free.

It was a good thing that Levi barely interacted with Jean. The boy was so annoying. And also – too damn tall.

He didn’t hear about any other friends of theirs, and as far as Levi was aware, there was no actual adult watching over Sasha and Connie, so… he kinda, unwillingly, of course, took that task upon himself.

Obviously, he made sure to remain discreet. He didn’t want the brats to know that he cared, because he didn’t, naturally.

He claimed that he simply cooked too much food and the leftovers would go to waste, if he didn’t give them away, when he brought them pasta or soup. He mentioned his insomnia and pretended that long walks helped him sleep better, when Sasha and Connie went home after midnight. He lied about having experience in bartending when Sasha got stomach flu. He said that he was just accidentally passing by their apartment, when later that day he visited to check on her.

The brats were too dense to notice his subtle attempts anyway, or so Levi hoped. They had never brought it up, and that had to mean something, right?

And that time when Connie tried to fix Levi’s air conditioning, or when Sasha brought a whole jar of his favorite tea, or all those evenings when he felt blue and homesick and they helped him clean the bar and took him out to dinner, surely it was nothing more than a coincidence.

The brats had their moments, Levi had to admit, and sometimes their presence was almost pleasant.

But sometimes they made him wish they shut their mouths and never opened them again.

Right now, that desire was more prevalent than ever.

“Say, Mister Levi,” Levi hated when they called him that, it made him sound even older than he actually was. He told them to stop it, many times. But the brats didn’t care. He slowly raised his eyes to show that he was listening. As soon as he did, Sasha put a fist underneath her chin, forgetting about the important task of cleaning the glasses to stare at him curiously. “Do you have someone?”

“Someone?” he had an inkling of what Sasha was asking him about, but he didn’t wish to discuss that with the damned brats. He didn’t wish to discuss that topic with no one, ever. Because… there was nothing to discuss.

“Yep, someone!” Connie chimed in. “Like, hm, a significant other?”

“A beloved!” Sasha agreed, nodding enthusiastically.

Levi felt the migraine coming. “I don’t have any kind of someone,” he gritted. “And I never did.”

“Really?” Sasha tilted her head to the side, looking so skeptical that Levi was ready to get offended. Was he not convincing enough? “I thought you do. It’s just that sometimes—”

“When you think no one is looking!” Connie swiftly added.

“Your face seems so much softer, and your scowl almost disappears, and you look—”

“Just like Jean when he thinks about Mikasa.”

Who the fuck was Mikasa? And what face was Jean making? Levi couldn’t be making the same one, could he?

“But if you say there is no one,” Sasha sighed, returning to her task of cleaning glasses. Wearing the same sad face as she did, Connie went back to gathering dishes from the tables. “Then I guess we’re wrong.”

Damn right, they were. There was no one, and whatever face they thought he was making, it couldn’t possibly be related to a certain police officer from the other side of the world.

“And if there is no one you have to think about,” Sasha winked, like she was seeing right through him. “Then let me make you a drink. It’s a new recipe I found, it involves tequila, vodka and—”

Levi raised a hand to cut her off. “Just surprise me.”

Sasha nodded and went to work. She frequently let Levi taste her new cocktails. He was the perfect man for it – he didn’t get drunk too fast, and he was the only Sasha’s friend who tasted something better than cheap whiskey or a beer from a local supermarket. He also never shied away from telling her when the drink was fucking awful.

Sasha hummed as she mixed the drink, some song Levi vaguely recognized from the radio. She was smiling too, she did that frequently, and something about her, be it the ponytail that jumped up and down when she was excited, or her easy-going, cheerful personality reminded him of Hange.

These days, lots of things reminded him about Hange. There were days when almost everything reminded him of Hange. It seemed like today was exactly a day like that.

“You’re making that same face again,” Sasha whispered, as she handed him the drink.

Levi scowled, glaring at the girl, as he put the glass up to his lips. He finished it in one go. “It tastes like shit,” he told her. “Put it on the menu.”

Sasha beamed, refilling his glass. “Knew you’d like it.”

“By the way, boss,” Levi wasn’t their boss, as far as he was aware, their actual boss was getting drunk in his office, all the while mumbling incomprehensible gibberish about some Carla. But Levi had to admit, being called boss was so much better than the godforsaken mister Levi. "Are you free tonight?"

Levi was free every day and every night, when he wasn’t working in the bar with Connie and Sasha. It wasn’t like he had any friends or even acquaintances beside two brats. However, saying it out loud would make him look even more pathetic that he actually was. So Levi shrugged, and said, as nonchalantly as possible, “Depends.”

“Would you like to come over for dinner?” Connie asked, looking at him with a smile so hopeful that Levi was ready to say yes right that instant. God, they already had him wrapped around their fingers. How embarrassing. At least, Kenny wasn’t here to witness it. He’d have a laugh of his life, if he found that Levi was adopted by two teenagers. “Jean is away on a trip, so we’d be glad to have some company.”

“He went to see his family?”

From the way Sasha bit her lip and Connie refused to meet his eye, Levi knew – their friend didn’t go on a simple trip. He sighed, taking a sip from his glass and letting the bitter liquid burn his throat. Admittedly, it was none of his business. He shouldn’t care about it, he wasn’t their father, for god’s sake. But… a friendly piece of advice wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Your friend plays with fire. And if he continues doing so—”

“Jean knows what he is doing,” Connie crossed hands on his chest defensively. “He is smart.”

Levi couldn’t help but scoff. “Just being smart is not enough. There will always be someone smarter.”

“Jean knows what he is doing,” Connie repeated stubbornly. “He’ll be fine.”

Maybe, he will, maybe, he won’t. At the end of the day, Levi had no say about it. He might call them brats, but they were already adults. They were allowed to do as they wished. They were bound to make some mistakes.

“Tell him to be more careful. Otherwise, you’ll suffer too.”

Levi left it at that, not wanting to antagonize Sasha and Connie any further. Besides, it was time to open the bar, or the drunkards all across the block would start banging on their doors. Worse than that, Shadis might come out of his office too. His sour face was the last thing Levi wished to see.

“Let’s get to work,” he nodded to the kids, and took his drink to the dark corner of the room, where he usually spend his shifts, waiting until the patrons start making a mess he’d have to clean.

Surprisingly, the evening came and went, but there was no mess for him to deal with. No one vomited, no one shitted all over the toilets. No one spilled their beer on the floor, or even a table. Were their patrons starting to learn how act like people, and not pigs? Or were they so well-behaved because it was just the beginning of a week? Or did the heat finally get to them and turn them just as slow and tired as Levi himself felt?

However, the weather was more merciful that day. The temperature was still high, too high for Levi’s taste, but just after the sunset the wind was starting to pick up, the storm slowly brewing. During the smoke break outside the bar, Levi could see the lightening, illuminating the far edge of the sky. The rain was in the air, and he allowed his lips to curl up in a pleased smile. Perhaps, he’d finally be able to sleep through the whole night and not toss and turn, feeling like the bed turned into a scorching pan.

When he went back inside, the bar was almost empty, just a few regulars left, nursing their half-finished drinks.

“Do you want to have pizza or sushi?” Sasha asked, as he started sweeping the floor. “We can order both if you wish.”

Levi rolled his eyes with a disgusted tsk. “Eating so much takeout is unhealthy. Let’s finish here and go to supermarket. I’ll cook you something decent.”

Connie yelled a loud yahoo, while Sasha squeezed him in a suffocating hug. The heartwarming moment was cut short, when the door to the bar was thrown open with a loud bang.

It let inside the gush of wind and drops of freezing rain. With a broom still in his hands, Levi turned sharply to the door, ready to rip the unlucky drunkard a new one, the bar had closed almost an hour ago, the sign was right there for everyone to see.

All harsh words died on the way between his throat and his tongue. Levi froze on the spot, and in the silence that followed the lightning strike was as sudden as a gunshot.

Sasha’s distressed cry and Connie’s shocked sob put him out of the stupor.

Throwing the broom away, Levi moved, catching the falling, bloodied boy into his arms.

“Jean!” Sasha was the first one of the two to snap out of it. She ran to Levi, with trembling hands lifting up her friend’s face.

“What the fuck had happened?” Connie kneeled next to them, his eyes wide and scared as he stared at Jean.

Jean looked awful, there was no way around it. His cheeks and jaw were bruised, his right eye was already swollen, and his light brown hair had too much red in it.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked out, too weak and injured to offer something more than a shaking whisper. “I’m sorry, I’ve fucked up, I didn’t know where to run and now they’re coming here, I didn’t mean to do this, I didn’t think, I—”

He could continue that nonessential ramble for the rest of the night. But if they, whoever those they were, were truly coming, Jean and his friends didn’t have that much time. Carefully, Levi lifted Jean’s arm, wincing when he saw that the boy’s shirt was bloodied too, and threw it over Connie’s shoulder. Then he took the key from the back pocket of his shorts and thrusted it into Sasha’s palm.

“Take him to my room in the motel.”

“And you?”

Levi pushed the hair away from his face, already hating himself for his next words. Kenny was right, he cared too much, and it was his biggest weakness, one that would probably get him killed one day. Perhaps, that day had already arrived.

“I’ll stay here and buy you some time.”

“No!” Jean protested, frantically grabbing Levi by the elbow. “It’s my fuck up, you shouldn’t get involved, you don’t know—”

“I do know. And unlike you, I can actually take care of myself.”

Perhaps, he was too harsh, but it was necessary. Jean had fucked up, and whatever he had done, he had to own that mistake and learn from it. That was the only way he would survive through another one of his mistakes.

“Hurry up,” he told Sasha and Connie. “I’ll meet you as soon as I’m finished.”

Thankfully, they didn’t try to argue. Connie wished him luck and Sasha made him promise to come back, and that was it.

As soon as they had left, Levi hopped behind the bar counter to pour himself a shot of whiskey. He lighted up a cigarette, waiting for the front door to swing open and Jean’s persecutors to arrive. Hopefully, they’d do it without guns blazing.

He was just finishing the first glass and was thinking of getting himself a second one, when the mighty kick almost as loud as the thunder outside pushed the door open. Three men tumbled inside a second later, their faces transformed by fury into caricature masks.

“Where is that son of a bitch?” roared one in the middle, their leader, Levi assumed.

Levi was in no hurry to answer. He took the last drag of the cigarette, meticulously put it down against the surface of an ashtray. Then looked at the men in front of him. “The bar is closed. There is no one here but me.”

“Stop fucking with us!” the asshole on the left shouted. “We saw him run inside!”

“If that fucker isn’t here, perhaps we should look around for his friends,” the third man offered. “I know they’re working here.”

So there was no way around it? Levi sighed, walking from beyond the counter. “Just so you know,” approaching the men, he cracked his knuckles. “I don’t condone violence.”

One of the thugs started laughing, the other two immediately followed. Levi didn’t expect any other reaction. The men were burly, large, they definitely weren’t smart.

“What are you going to do to us, midget? Do you seriously think you can beat us up?”

The insult was followed by a punch, a careless, blundering one. Levi effortlessly dodged it, delivering a vicious kick to the stomach of his attacker. The man - who upon the close inspection had yellow teeth and reeked of cheap alcohol – staggered. He caught himself at the last second, holding onto nearest table with white-knuckled desperation. Levi hit again, this time with his knee. With a gasp that turned into a groan, the man fell onto the ground.

Luckily, he stayed there, and Levi turned his attention to the other two.

The one who stood at the left attacked instantly, aiming his enormous fist at Levi’s jaw. There was an unfinished bottle of whiskey on the counter right behind him, and Levi grabbed it, smashing it against the man’s head. The resulting sound was loud, almost deafening. Levi tried to forget about the mess of spilled whiskey on the floor and let himself enjoy that pleasant sound for another moment.

That was a slight miscalculation on his part, because the last man apparently was armed with knife, and he swung it without hesitation. Levi jumped to the side, but wasn’t quick enough. The knife’s edge kissed his cheek, leaving a smear of blood behind it. A mere second later, the knife was in the air once again. Levi was ready for it this time, but as he prepared to take a swift step back, his ankle refused to budge. He looked down to see that one of the defeated men was back in the game, still laying on a floor, but holding Levi in one place. Levi quickly dealt with him, using another leg to kick the man’s head. It took him no more than a moment, but it was enough for him to lose sight of his last attacker. Whatever plan of retaliation Levi had, he lost it, when the knife embedded in his forearm, making him hiss and cuss. Irritated, he roughly grabbed the hand that held the knife, twisting the arm at the wrist.

There was a loud crack, then the even louder scream.

Not too elegant, but, at least, it did the job.

Yanking the knife out of his arm, Levi threw it away, allowing it to clutter on the ground.

“Get the fuck out of here!” he snarled at the men, who weren’t laughing anymore. On the contrary, their faces were panicked, frightened. They pathetically scrambled to their feet, pushing each other to get outside as fast as possible. “And don’t come back!” Levi shouted to their backs.

When the door fell closed, Levi slumped back against the counter. The spot on his cheek was tingling unpleasantly, his arm was hurting like a bitch, and the whole bar had turned into a mess – the shards of glass and spilled whiskey were all over the floor. The blood from his arm was creating a small puddle too.

Levi viciously cursed and grabbed a towel, making a make-shift bandage. It had to do for the time being.

One mess was dealt with, and now another was awaiting him. He’d be lucky if the dirty floor would be the biggest of his troubles tonight.

But somehow, Levi knew that it was just the beginning.

***

Levi never considered himself to be a philosophic kind of person, he never pondered on the meaning of things, never felt the desire to look at the problem at hand from all possible angles, never reflected on his feelings and emotions.

He did however notice that the small room he had rented in a shitty motel at the edge of the city never felt to him like home. It was a place to live, it had a bed to sleep, it held some of his belongings, but it wasn’t a home, it didn’t provoke in him the feeling of belonging that he found inside the walls of his and Kenny’s old apartment.

He spent a little more than two months, living in that shithole, and never once he thought – I’m home, never once he felt – I belong right here.

But something very similar was blooming in his chest, when he passed the threshold of his shitty motel room and fell right into the arms of Connie and Sasha.

Sasha started cleaning his wounds right away, while Connie rushed to get the new bandages for his bloodied arm.

“You should have been more careful,” Sasha chided, and, fuck, he really got adopted by a couple of kids just like that.

“We could have dealt with this ourselves,” Connie said, and then, after a little pause, added, “Probably.”

Levi hummed and resisted the urge to ruffle the hair on their heads. He didn’t have that much affection for the little shits. Probably.

Just as they finished, Jean appeared, unsteadily walking out of the bathroom. He stopped not long after, leaning against the doorframe. Patched up and cleaned, he still didn’t look like his usual, confident and complacent self. Now he reminded Levi of a puppy who was thoroughly and viciously kicked. His hair was now clean of blood, but the shirt was still covered in red patches. Levi would have offered him one of his own t-shirts, but… on Jean’s lanky body it’d look more like a crop top. Or a child’s shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Jean murmured, not meeting Levi’s eyes. “I didn’t know it’d lead to this.”

Yeah, they almost never know. Levi sighed, there was no point in scolding boy any further. He had realized his fuck up already, his buddies from the gang made sure of that.

“What the hell happened?” Levi asked, his back turned to Jean, as he went to prepare the tea for all of them. It would help to soothe some of Jean’s injuries, and it would also help to relieve Levi of the building tension in his shoulders.

“I… wasn’t quite ready for this life, I guess,” Jean sat down on a bed, covering his face with hands. “There is a guy I’ve been working with, he stole some drugs he was supposed to sell, and other gang members found out and decided to punish him, make an example out of him, but that guy… he was my friend, sort of? We hanged out a lot, and I just couldn’t see him get hurt like that…”

“Oh my god!” Sasha’s hands flew to her face and her mouth opened wide. “Did you get beat up because you tried to protect Marco?”

Connie snorted. “I see you’re getting over Mikasa pretty quickly.”

Behind his hands, Jean’s face started to gain color. “I just helped a guy out.”

“And didn’t even ask for a kiss after the heroic rescue?” Sasha teased.

“There wasn’t much time for kisses after the whole gang started running after us.”

“You poor thing,” Connie patted Jean’s head, sharing a mischievous look with Sasha. “Didn’t even get a kiss for all the trouble.”

The two boys started to bicker, and Levi watched the scene, feeling the pounding inside his head increase. It’d be a long, long night. The one he’d have to spend sleeping on a floor, because there were three brats in his room and only one queen-sized bed.

He raised a hand, putting a stop to the argument that was starting to raise in volume.

“Is the other guy alright?” he asked Jean, as he handed him a cup, filled with steaming tea.

Jean accepted the drink with a grateful nod, but didn’t answer the question right away, staring inside the cup thoughtfully. “He managed to get out of the city. The assholes that beat me up caught me just after he got on a bus.”

Well, that was certainly good news. The only one they received since the beginning of this evening.

“You have to run away too, preferably for quite some time. Those guys won’t forget about you so easily. Do you have a place where you can hide?”

“Well…” frowning, Jean rubbed his neck, “My parents have a summer house…”

“Excellent, does anyone know about it?”

“No, not even these idiots,” Jean answered, pointing at Sasha and Connie.

“Then take these idiots, because your gangster pals know, where all of you live and work,” Levi grumbled. “And get out of here first thing in the morning. Spend a few months in the countryside, wait until this shitty storm is over.”

“And what about you? Now they know about you too.”

What about him… good question. And a very easy one to answer. He’d have to change cities again, luckily, he already had some experience with that. Sure, it was an inconvenience, but… better than live his life and have to constantly look over his shoulder, or die in some dirty alleyway. Perhaps, he’d be able to return some day, when the tensions were long over.

“I’ll leave the city,” he told them. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“You had to run away before?” Connie asked, awe written all over his face. “So cool!”

“And you beat up all these guys for us!” Sasha agreed, adoration shining in her gaze.

“You aren’t just a janitor, eh?” Jean stared at him with narrowed eyes.

Levi saved from answering by a loud shrill of the phone.

Everyone in the room tensed, Levi felt his heart pounding inside his chest, a relentless boom, boom, boom. He wet his lips, his throat suddenly too dry, and stood up.

“No!” Jean grabbed his arm, stopping Levi from picking up the phone. Levi understood his panic, it was the middle of the night, who in their right mind would call him at this time? Who would call him period, all the people Levi knew in this city were sitting next to him. Unless, it was Shadis who got out of his drunken stupor and decided to have a friendly chat with a janitor from his bar?

And if it wasn’t Shadis, then…

Acutely feeling his every heartbeat, Levi pulled his arm out of Jean’s grasp. Swallowing that persisting lump inside his throat down, he put his hand on a phone handle. Slowly, holding in his breath, he lifted the phone and put it to his ear.

“Is your name even Levi? Or was that another lie, you asshole?”

That voice. Her voice. Levi helplessly fell back in the armchair behind him.

“H-hange?” the crack in his voice was heard and analyzed by a bunch of kids, who now all stood beside him. Levi waved them away, drowning out the intrigued murmuring, and focused on a person on the other side of the line.

“You still remember my name, I’m flattered, Ackerman,” ah, so she found out. Not surprising in the slightest, but disappointing nevertheless. But how did she find out? And when? And why she was calling now? And how she managed to obtain the number of a motel he was staying at? So many questions, Levi wanted to ask them all at once. He didn’t even know where to start. “And just a piece of friendly advice, next time you go into hiding, don’t go around asking police officers on a date.”

Well, that was one question answered. Only one hundred remained.

“Are you going to arrest me now?”

“No, unfortunately,” Hange bitterly replied. “I need you, Ackerman. For work,” she added, before Levi could get any ideas and just before his heart started racing like crazy. “Take the first flight back to city, if you don’t want me to drag you out of there by force. I’ll be waiting for you in the airport.”

Hange was going to end the call, Levi could practically see her finger hover over the button. Before she did, he cried out, “Wait!” and then, much more calmly he added, “What do you need me for?”

“Your uncle went missing. I need you to help me find him.”

The line went dead immediately after that. It took Levi another moment to pull himself together.

Kenny was… missing? Kenny, his ruthless, unstoppable uncle? And Hange was looking for him? Too much was unknown, too much was unclear, too much was yet to be explained.

One thing for sure, he wouldn’t find the answers here. Well, one problem was solved then, he didn’t have to change cities anymore. He’d just have to return home.

“So.”

Just a short word, but so much meaning was put in it. With a feeling of dread, Levi turned to face Sasha. He shuddered at the sight of her wide, shit-eating smile.

“Hange, hm?” she asked, twirling a lock of hair.

“Hange is your someone, right?” Connie excitedly exclaimed. “Your Mikasa?”

“Hange is his Marco,” Sasha corrected, earning a vicious curse and a middle finger from Jean. “I guess it’s all over with Mikasa.”

It was all over with Hange too. There was nothing with Hange to begin with. And there would be nothing, because apparently she hated him now. For a good reason too.

Fuck. Kenny, Hange, the brats, they all caused Levi a massive headache. And there was no running away from it, they’d find him whenever he ran.

Perhaps, it meant that he had to stop running. And come back home.

“Let’s go to sleep,” he told the kids. “A long journey is ahead of you. And ahead of me too.”

“You’re leaving? To your Hange?”

“Hange is not my someone, I’m just leaving,” Levi grunted, turning off the light. “Go to sleep before I knock you all out.”

Thankfully, they listened and got on a bed without a word of complain.

“It’s good that your Hange found you,” Sasha mumbled, already sleepy. “Maybe, now you won’t be so sad anymore.”

Sasha seemed to fall asleep immediately after, not waiting for Levi’s answer. Or, perhaps, she wasn’t interested in it.

Soon Connie was out as well, and even Jean, after a few of tosses, turns and more than a dozen pained groans managed to settle in comfortably and fall into deep slumber.

Levi didn’t get so lucky, the thoughts about what tomorrow would bring swirling in his mind and keeping him awake.

But, well… at least his melancholy and homesickness wouldn’t be a problem anymore. After two months of being away, he was going home at last.

Strangely, the prospect didn’t seem that thrilling.

#remember when i said that sasha and connie are my literal favorites? yeah it's a chapter dedicated to that #levihan

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nocturna-starr · 4 years ago

Text

Intentional Creation

Prompter: @phantomphangphucker

Prompt: Danny created Phantom intentionally and knew full well what he was doing, the first time.

Words: 1508

In Danny’s totally unbiased opinion, his parents were naive. They were creating a portal to another world! Did they not expect said inhabitants from said world to make an appearance in the living realm? Or did they believe that somehow the very creatures they wanted to study wouldn’t be curious themselves?

“Don’t worry Danno! No ghost would dare cross through Jack Fenton’s portal!”

Sure.

“Danny, your parents are the experts, right? Just leave it to them! Everything will be okay!”

Yep… Nothing to worry about…

“Ghosts aren’t even real!”

Was everyone around him actually this stupid?

He should be playing the newest update for DOOM or studying for Mr. Lancer’s test on the Merchant of Venice. He should not be studying his parents research to make sure they didn’t blow up the house or contaminate him and Jazz again like they did the last time Jack and Maddie Fenton tried to invent a green energy source.

Suddenly Danny heard a knock on the door.

“Danny, it’s Jazz. Aren’t you going to get some sleep? We have school tomorrow!”

“Just looking over some papers.” Danny called. He heard his sister huff, but fortunately she didn’t push the issue forward. No doubt she herself would be up all night studying some new psychology book she had found in the library.

And she said that she was nothing like their parents.

He found himself glancing at the numbers. Math may not be his best subject, but to his untrained eye the calculations his mother made had no mistakes. The machine they were going to finish would certainly rip a hole into another dimension.

Then his dad would tell anyone and everyone who would listen that he would protect them from the threat he himself had created. His dad would go up against the wrong supernatural creature and…

Despite how much his father annoyed him, Danny loved the man. He couldn’t imagine a world without Jack Fenton. His mother, a former cop, might be able to handle the situation slightly better, but even she would become overwhelmed by the ghosts eventually. They needed someone who was on the same power level as the ghosts and who would protect humanity rather than harm it.

Didn’t his parents say that someone had gotten ectoradiation due to their naivety the first time they had built s portal? What was his name again… Paul… Chad? It didn’t matter. Maybe it was possible to replicate something like that! But instead of being contaminated, maybe one could fuse with the ectoplasm. But who could he convince to give up their humanity for the world?

Danny put down the papers. Didn’t Sam say she wanted to make a difference?

xXx

“Whoa! I can’t believe it dude! Your parents actually made a real portal.” Danny’s best friend Tucker Foley gawked at the expensive machinery in the wall.

“Yeah, if only it worked.” Danny eyed the knobs at the side of the portal. Everything was still in position fortunately. His dad for once in his life had decided not to fiddle with something he had not done.

“It’s actually pretty cool, even not working. Imagine the worlds that are barely out of reach.” Sam sighed.

Danny smiled. Sam was still innocent. He hoped that her optimism, despite being a ghost, would remain. It would suck if he had to repeat the experiment all over again. Tucker wouldn’t be as powerful a ghost. Anyone after that would be a malicious ghost that Jack Fenton would have the honour of destroying.

The goth gently touched the portal, as if it were something sacred. It was like she knew her place of death was here. Tucker snapped a couple of pictures. Danny watched them, noting each soft smile or excited look sent his way. Would they feel this way when the portal took everything they knew in a couple of minutes?

“Wanna look inside?” Danny asked. He felt his heart begin to race. This was the moment that would forever change humanity. In the future, kids would be talking about the origin story of Sammy Geist or Tucker Ghouly. Would they see him as a good person, or a mad scientist? Would they understand why he did this and not judge him only on his actions? Or would they allow his name to fade to time because no one would ever know that the accident wasn’t an accident?

“Sure Danny!” Sam grinned. Without a second thought she walked inside.

“I’m good dude. I’d rather not be inside, and the thing click on.” Tucker didn’t look up from his PDA.

Maybe he should have tried to get Sam to dress in a Hazmat suit. The extra protection could have led her into a false sense of security which would allow for mistakes to occur. The Hazmat suit also could have acted as a disguise. Sam Manson, Amity Park’s most famous goth, would never have been caught dead in one of those.

“What are all of these wires for? What about all these buttons? Tuck you’re the tech guru, you should really come inside.” Sam called.

“Actually Sam, I think you should get out.” Tucker warned. Did Tucker suspect something? Danny had never even written his thoughts down in a journal let alone share them with anyone else! How could his best friend even know?

Why did he suddenly feel so guilty?

“Just a sec Tucker!” Sam called. Her hand grazed a large red button. Danny wanted to tell her to push it or to startle her and cause her to “accidentally” press it. Yet the words refused to come from out of him. Why did he feel so terrible for wanting to save the world? What was one life to billions? It wasn’t like she was actually going to die!

Why was his life more important than Sam’s?

“Hey Sam, I want a turn to see!” Danny found himself calling. He watched as she safely exited the portal. He grabbed the suit his father had made especially for him and put it on.

Sam grinned, ripping off the picture of his dad’s face that he insisted on putting on everything. “You aren’t going in with that on, are you?”

“I guess not.” Danny tried to smile.

“Nervous? Just think of all the cool worlds that this portal can connect to.” Sam grinned.

He nodded, hoping to disguise his dread as minor fear. He took a step in the portal and began walking towards the button that Jack and Maddie Fenton in their infinite wisdom had chosen to keep. Time seemed to slow the closer he got to it. He could hear his own heart beat and feel every breath he took. Once he was transformed, would he miss feeling of breathing? There was no going back. If he chickened out now, Danny knew he would never build the courage to do this again. Then the world would be doomed.

Once he was close enough, Danny “tripped” and pressed the button. His walk of death couldn’t compare to the absolute freeze in time that occurred just after he pressed the button. The youngest Fenton swore he heard the phrase “All is as it should be…” before the light engulfed him into a world of agony.

He was glad that he didn’t force his best friends to experience it. His essence was ripped apart then sewn back together again. His heart raced before falling into a slow and steady rhythm. He was Danny Fenton, then he was nothing. He was human, until he wasn’t. Everything became dark.

He saw flashes of his life slip by and flashes of the future. He heard the screams of the dying and cries of those who were living for the first time. He felt sudden felt a weight that he had never known fall off of his shoulders. The freedom was only felt for a couple of seconds (or was it years?) before a much heavier weight was flung onto him.

He felt himself begin to walk. A light and a voice beckoned him forward. He felt something grabbing his leg, trying to keep him away. He knew he had to fight against it. If he stayed, then there would be no one to fight against his parents’ mistakes.

As he moved forward, the thing clutching his leg felt heavier and heavier. His steps became smaller and smaller. Maybe it was best if he stayed behind? Just as the it seemed that the thing would win, he broke free. He raced to the light, determined to not be trapped again.

“DANNY! DANNY!” Her heard a woman cry.

As he came closer, the light became a doorway. He smiled and stumbled across.

“Danny is that you?” Sam cried.

It worked?! Danny grinned. Everything would be fine now. Tomorrow there would be problems, but now there could be solutions. Ghosts would attack and he would be right there to stop them. The lack of sleep the previous night and the exhaustion of the portal claimed him. Danny fell into his last peaceful rest.

#phic phight 2021 #danny phantom #danny fenton #au

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bytheangell · 4 years ago

Note

If you are still taking prompts, what would you think about writing something(s) based off of this, either/both, the Professor/TA, or the Writer/Editor?

Dedication (modern AU, Herongraystairs, check the link in the ask for full writer/editor prompt, a wonderful plot idea by @high-warlock-of-brooklyn!) (Read on AO3)

This is the first book Will and Tessa are collaborating on. They’ve written plenty of books individually and Jem’s worked with each of them in turn. But this is the first time they’ve co-authored, an experience that’s proving unique and challenging for all of them.

Being with Will and Tessa while they work on a new project is always a blessing and a curse. They’re two of the best writers of their generation and when they work on their own they’re brilliant, but when they work together - well, they’re also brilliant, but that brilliance is coupled with the occasional near-catastrophic clash of opinions and emotions.

Which is where Jem comes in.

Where Will and Tessa are so driven by passion and feelings, Jem finds it much easier to distance himself from their project (and from the writers themselves) enough to see the bigger picture and find solutions before the issues build up. Like many things about the three of them, it’s a perfect balance - they just work, better than anyone (including Will, Tessa, and Jem) ever imagined possible when they first got together.

It’d been a messy start, with Will and Jem already together but both developing serious feelings for Tessa after they met during a book event. The three of them quickly became very close. There were whispers of which of them would end up leaving, then confusion when the answer was none: instead of two of them growing closer and shutting the third out, they all seemed to adjust and adapt naturally around the three of them coexisting. They aren’t perfect, but they are perfect for each other, at least as far as Jem’s concerned.

Jem knows that what they have is special, which he reminds himself of over and over as Will and Tessa sit on opposite sides of the sofa, voices quickly elevating to nearly shouting over an issue with one of the characters Will is in charge of writing: one he’s chosen to give a pretty damning curse from a trickster faerie in this land of magic their current collaboration is set in.

“Tell him he needs to make the changes, Jem,” Tessa insists, the third time she’s repeated the demand now.

“Tell her that this plot adds depth, and without it, he’s boring,” Will counters. “Sometimes people - characters - need to be brutally honest about their own faults and issues. Sometimes people are disappointing.”

That’s how Jem can tell things are spiraling: when Will and Tessa - who have effectively communicated and collaborated on half a dozen bestsellers and who love each other more than Jem’s ever seen two people experience love - refuse to speak directly to one another. The moment they start talking around each other and at Jem instead is when he knows he has to step in and diffuse.

Usually, it’s a matter of taking a break, getting some fresh air, and coming back with clear minds. Jem normally isn’t one to pick sides, but this is different. He isn’t worried about the direction of the book… but after reading the latest draft from Will, which Will wrote while refusing to speak to either of them for a full week, he’s worried about Will. And he knows Tessa is, too.

“Perhaps a good starting point would be admitting this isn’t really about the character at all,” Jem says softly, gazing closely between Will and Tessa. Will looks a bit guilty and Tessa looks away entirely, which tells Jem that he’s right in guessing their concerns are also less plot-based.

“...what else would it be about?” Will asks defensively. But they can all sense how he’s been pushing them away lately, much like the cursed character undeserving of love he’s written in. It’s obvious that Tessa isn’t sure how to bring it up or else she would’ve already. Or maybe she already had and it hadn’t gone well.

“Tessa, would you mind making some tea?” Jem asks, waiting until she’s out of the room to turn back to Will.

“Will… you know this is about you. You barely talk to anyone for a week then come back with this character in such a self-deprecating mindset…”

“That’s ridiculous. He’s just a character,” Will says, but Jem can tell he’s entirely unconvinced of his own words.

“So if Tess came back having written Evangeline that way?” Jem counters, and there’s that look of subtle guilt, right back on Will’s face as he frowns and pieces together why Tessa’s so upset with him.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” Will sighs.

“We’re not mad at you,” Jem’s quick to point out. “We’re just worried. It’s been a while since you tried to push us away like this, I just want to make sure you’re okay. We both do. Take it out in the writing if you want, but talk with us, too. Alright, my love?”

Jem’s tense as he waits. This has one of two options: Will relents and listens to him and they all have tea and talk this out, or Will storms out and they don’t see him again for another day or two.

Will stays. “I’m just letting the pressure get to me,” he admits. “I’m sure that’s all it is... But yeah. Okay. Tea.”

Tea, meaning ‘I’ll stay. I’ll talk. I’ll try.’ Jem leans over and places a barely-there kiss on Will’s lips before he relaxes back in his seat. Reaching out a hand that Will readily takes, Jem gives it a tight squeeze as they both wait for Tessa to return.

They talk.

In the end, the character arc stays. With a few redeeming modifications at Tessa and Jem’s entirely unbiased suggestion, of course.

---

A little over halfway through the first draft things seem to stall out. They have a progress deadline that week with the publisher and they’re cutting it close - mostly because Tessa keeps tossing everything she writes without giving Jem the chance to look it over. Recently she’s let her curiosity get the best of her, delving into research she should be allowing Jem to help with.

...and when he says ‘delving’, what he really means is stubbornly obsessing over, nitpicking bits of lore to streamline, and doing hours and hours of research for single-line references.

“When was the last time she slept? Like, an actual night of sleep?” Jem asks Will one day after a quick touch-base meeting that went… not terribly, but not particularly great, either.

“You need to get her out of here. No books. No wifi. I tried to kick her out but… well, you can imagine how well that went,” Will admits, and Jem winces in sympathy.

“The Time Out Cottage?” Jem asks, referring to a small cottage they own for unplugged getaways, where the wifi signal is nonexistent and a landline exists for emergency calls. “That means we’ll both be out of easy reach, and with that Friday deadline-”

“I can handle it,” Will cuts him off. “She’s been getting in her own way for days now, but she refuses to listen to me.”

A few minutes later Jem tentatively knocks on the door to the small study that does, in fact, look more like a makeshift research library. He nearly doesn’t see Tessa behind the small mountain of books on the floor, but he hears her pen tapping rapidly against the hardwood. No, not just rapidly - anxiously. He knows that action all too well.

“Tessa, what number is that?” he asks, the question needing no further explanation past his accusatory tone and pointed look at a coffee mug, which is next to a second coffee mug, which is next to a cup of black tea.

“Four? No, wait… what time is it?” she glances around and seems surprised by the height of the sun in the sky. “It’s afternoon already?”

Jem sighs. “It’s nearly four o’clock, Tessa, and your blood is probably about 90% caffeine. Come on, get your things, we’re taking a trip.”

Tessa looks immediately horrified. “No! I can’t, we can’t! The deadline, and I still have to streamline the fae lore between the two-”

“Will has it handled for 24 hours. That’s all we’re asking. 24 hours without research.” “Jem, you know-”

“-that you’ll be twice as productive once we’re back and you’re refreshed instead of running on fumes and fever dreams?” Jem cuts her off, his tone kind but insistent. He bends over and picks up a piece of paper. “Tessa, my love, this is nearly incoherent.”

Tessa reaches up to take the page from him and frowns. “I… okay, I can make out some of this, but I’m pretty sure that bit talks about aliens which isn’t any more reassuring. Will did say I was writing myself in circles, but I thought he was just, well, being Will, so... Yeah. Okay. Maybe I need to step back for a bit.” Tessa sighs. “The Time Out Cottage?”

“I already packed you a bag,” Jem confirms with a soft smile, leaning down to kiss the middle of her forehead before reaching out a hand to help her up off the floor.

When they return exactly 24 hours later, Tessa gets back to work and the lore practically falls into place between the two of them.

They meet the Friday deadline without a problem.

---

Jem spends his free time playing violin while Will and Tessa go through the first draft and begin to brainstorm fixes for plotholes, new minor characters to add to scenes that feel a bit lacking, and other small improvements to really round out the story and the world they’re weaving. They both claim to think clearer with his music in the background so he stays, even if he doesn’t feel particularly useful for this stage of the process until they have a single, coherent draft to hand over to him.

These are the moments Jem’s own insecurities and flaws float to the surface. The moments he watches Will and Tessa, so alike, so perfect for each other, connect on a level he isn’t privy to. He knows it’s a silly thought, that he and Will have their own things, as do he and Tessa. But sometimes he wonders if they truly need him around, or if he’s simply just become too much a part of the routine to actively get rid of.

He watches them sit next to each other with shoulders touching, hunched over a small screen, whispering back and forth. There’s a small smile on his face, one that’s wistful and tinged with hints of longing that, much to his dismay, they pick up on.

“I know that look,” Tessa says, catching Jem’s gaze and drawing Will’s attention before Jem can wipe the expression from his face. “Get over here. I think we’ve done enough work for today.”

Will is the first to move over, making room for Jem in the middle of them. After placing his violin back in its case Jem heads over to join them on the sofa, embracing the way Will and Tessa immediately crowd into his space once he’s settled, both placing a comforting kiss to his temples simultaneously before resting their heads on each of his shoulders and a placing a hand in each of his own.

They talk a bit, not about the book, but about anything and everything else, and fall asleep there, still entwined together.

---

It’s rare for any part of one of their books to be a surprise to Jem upon publication. He sees all the drafts, talks them through the acknowledgments and dedications, double-checks the reference pages against the chaotic piles of books and notes around their home.

So he’s immediately (and rightfully) suspicious the moment they hand him the first advanced copy and tell him to open it, watching his every move with eager expressions. Excited, but anxious.

‘A dedication to the one most dedicated to us:

This book would not be what it is without the kind heart, encouraging words, and infinite patience of James Carstairs. Neither would we. Jem, you are a light in our darkest hours, and we don’t know where we’d be without you.

We hope we’ll never have to find out.

Jem, our love, will you marry us?’

Jem reads, then re-reads the dedication. He closes the book, then opens it again, reading it a third time for good measure.

“Well?” Will asks impatiently, earning himself a nudge in the ribs from Tessa. Will huffs.

“I see you’re as dramatic as always,” Jem says quietly, instead of answering the question posed in the book. He knows his answer. He’s known for a while now what his answer would be, should the topic ever present itself, but he gets a bit of joy from making Will wait in anticipation just a short while longer.

“He wanted to be even more dramatic and show you at the event tomorrow,” Tessa admits. “But we decided against it. We thought you deserved the chance to say no without two hundred sets of eyes on you.”

Jem raises an eyebrow. “You think I’ll say no?”

“You haven’t said ‘yes’ yet,” Will points out, but he doesn’t sound nervous about it. Nor should he be.

“Yes,” Jem says, smiling brightly. “Of course it’s yes.”

#herongraystairs #will herondale #tessa gray #jem carstairs #tsc #thanks to Jay for letting me play around with that prompt!#SORRY THIS TOOK A MILLION YEARS #making prompt progress between weekly codas and bingo fills slowly but surely #i hope you like it my anon friend!#elle writes a few deadbeat lines #anon glamour activated #ask rune #long post #elle talks too much

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

Text

Humans Are Space Orcs “Preparations.”

I’m getting ready for an interesting new arc, I think, so we shall see. I never know what my brain is going to want to write.

“Lieutenant, command is yours. Keep the ship operational till I get back. I want low orbit just in case we have to bail out quickly.”

“Yes sir.”

Boots clattered on metal as Commander Vir clattered down the stairs and moved quickly down the hallway. A small entourage of figures walked at his back, “I’m not sure I like this commander.” One of them was saying, “It could more than easily be a trap.”

He sighed, “I know, but the GA wants it done.”

“I would much rather do reconnaissance for a while-”

“And so would I, but the chairwoman made it very clear that we needed to speak with them as soon as possible. I’ve already tried establishing radio contact, and nothing. The only way to go now is the old fashioned way.”

They took a sharp corner, “Tell the council to meet me down in the docking bay.”

“Yes sir,” They scampered off leaving another subordinate to fill their place.

Most of the council was already there when he reached the docking bay. Dr, Krill, Sunny, Dr. Adric, Ramirez Narobi etc. etc.” He paused before them, hands clasped behind his back.

“You shouldn’t go alone.” Came the first announcement.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, which means I want at least six marines, and a group from the diplomacy team. I know I’ve been taking lessons, but I don’t trust myself nearly as much as I trust them.”

“Are we sure it needs to be you at all?” Krill pointed out getting to the heart of the issue on first try, as was usual for him.

Commander Vir turned to look at the little doctor on the spot, “The Kree have demanded a high ranking representative.”

“Then lie to them, send down someone not important and pretend,” Krill said

He crossed his arms, “We aren’t going to lie. Starting out diplomatic relations with a lie would destabilize the entire foundation of what we are trying to build, no we need proper protection is all.” He turned to look at the others, “Any objections? If so raise your concerns now?’”

Sunny raised a hand, “You're Not going unless you bring proper weapons, otherwise, I say we shouldn't meet them.”

“I agree….. And I have an idea.” The group looked nervously around at each other, “No, you are very much not going to like it, and you will probably argue with me.” He turned to Dr. Adric, and motioned hi to follow, “Ramirez get your marines and-”

“Already done commander.”

“Nice and fast of you.” He turned to look at Ramirez one last time placing a hand on his shoulder, “Are these the marines that have…. Uh…. trained with the new equipment?”

Ramirez nodded enthusiastically, “Yes sir.”

“Good.” “New equipment?” Krill wondered rather suspiciously.

“Yep you're going to hate that too.” Commander Vir announced knowing that he was going to argue and knowing that people would assume his decision was poor. But he had talked it over -- seriously -- with Ramirez, and they had both agreed it was too good a strategic advantage not to. Ramirez had then talked with the requisitions officer and so on and so forth until the package had been loaded onto the ship not a few days before, but that he thought he might be able to get away with, it was this next thing, they were going to hate.

Floating at the back of the group Conn knew what he was thinking, “They’re going to lock you up.”

“Are you exaggerating, or is that seriously what they are going to do?”

The starborn kept silent leaving hi on edge as he moved forward and into the equipment room. He knew where it was, they had hardly hidden it as well as they thought they had, and he could tell by the nervous movement of the rest of the crew that they knew too.

Ight as well not keep them waiting.

He walked over to one side of the room, pushed a rack of guns out of the way, reached down and dragged the large silver box onto the open floor.

Immediate uproar.

“No!”

“Not on your life!: “What are you thinking!”

Commander Vir crossed his arms, planting himself before the box with feet spread wide. He let them continue to rant, sunny even tried to pull hi away, but he ducked past both of her arms and stepped back, so he was now standing on the box.

“QUIET ALL OF YOU!”

That made them shut up, at least for the moment.

“Commander, we won’t let you.”

“I know.”

“Than why even bother bringing it up.” Sunny demanded

Even Ramirez was looking a little put off..

He turned to look at Dr. Adric, “That is why he is here. I know for a fact that I can do it, and not cause harm to myself. I’m healthy enough mentally to manage, but if the good doctor decides that I am wrong, than I will put it down and stp arguing.”

Below him, the Iron eye logo glinted in the yellowed overhead lights.

Dr. Adric looked on in concern, “What is this about?”

Krill and a few of the others turned to protest, but commander Vir stopped them with a raised hand turning to look at the doctor, “You are aware of my time in operation steel eye?”

He nodded.

“And were you aware that I put the armor back on for the burg war not some months ago?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know about the project.”

He laced his hands together before him, “I published a paper on it. I know that it was a volatile experimental pice of technology that the government attached directly into the spinal columns and muscles of the forty surviving soldiers. Each machine was powered by the steel eye prosthetic which contained the suit’s power source. I know that they used drugs to stop the excruciating pain, and that they added amphetamines to cause aggression and allow the soldiers to stay up longer…. And I know that more than three fourths of those soldiers are dead now and only have of that fourth is….. Operating functionally as people.”

Commander Vir smiled, “Yes, than you do know. IT took me years to recover from the suit, than I went and put it on again, and that caused a relapse in y mental health to a degree that I almost got myself grounded and , likely, discharged. However, during that time I also spoke to a group of people who were working on a similar project, operation Iron eye.” There was a nervous shifting around the room, “ITs the same thing as stell eye, though it requires no drugs, and no pain. The Trade off is, I had to go in for surgery because the attachments are permanent.”

He turned around and pulled down the collar of his shirt so Dr. Adric could see the first port just below the base of his skull, “I had these done at a time where I honestly shouldn't have, but I thought this was my only option.” He turned back around, “I am well aware that is not true, but what’s done is done. I have the implants, they cannot be removed, and I have the suit. I might as well use it to protect myself. That is the point? To protect myself and the rest of the crew?”

There was silence for a moment.

“We can’t let you do this.” Dr Katie was saying.

Narobi was shaking her head emphatically .

He turned to look at Dr. Adric, “I leave this decision up to you doc. If I’m not mentally healthy enough to handle it, than I will stop, but you are the expert here and the most unbiased among us.” Dr Adric shifted on the spot nervously. He could see where this was a problem. The unhealthy associations that soldiers were bound to make after an experience like that was…. Horrible to imagine, but the Commander seemed calm, so he supposed there was no issue with trying.

He was a bit nervous about all the eyes that his decision caused. Sunny looked like she was about to beat him to death with her spear, and Dr. Krill seemed intent on poisoning his drink the next time he had the chance.

They took the Iron eye box back to the medical bay, and The three doctors observed the process.

Commander Vir was feeling pretty good as he slid back into the box listening to the connections click into place. Were there some bad memories? Yeah, sure, but he could handle those well enough.

Dr Adric kept a close eye on him as he stood the whirring of hydraulics accompanying his movement. He flexed his fist inside the iron eye suit and turned to look at the others.

Krill was frowning. Sunny was glowering , Dr. Katie wouldn't even look at him. Ramirez looked very, very nervous.

Dr. Adric walked over and checked his pulse, asked a few questions, but finally decided there was no reason to tell him no.

That pissed off almost everyone else in the room, but commander Vir pulled on the specially made iron eye gear, “You wanted me safe, and this is as safe as I can think of being, and I trust Dr. Adric’s judgement.” With each footstep, metal clattered against metal, and the soft hiss of the hydraulics accompanied him up the hall.

THe others followed in concern and anger.

The crew turned to look their eyes wide looking nervous.

They expected him to do something stupid.

What they didn’t know is that he actually had a practicing mental health professional on his side now, and truth be told, he didn’t feel anything really. Yes he could just as easily compare the experience to the steel-eye suit, but without the pain, the experiences were too different.

Reaching the docking bay for the second time. The marines were already waiting as were the diplomacy team.

Dr Krill cursed, “You arent serious.”

“Krill, I appreciate your opinion as a doctor, but in areas of equipping marines, I trust Ramirez more.”

The line of marines saluted as he drew nearer, their bodies covered by their combat ACUs, and each one wearing a matte black painted jetpack.

He turned, just in time for Ramirez to step forward with another, mounting it to the back plate on the Iron- eye suit, where it clicked satisfyingly into place.

Krill and Sunny both looked as if they were about to have a conniption.

He withdrew something from his pocket, “Don’t worry, I did my homework, and read the manual. I don’t plan on even using it if this all goes well.” he looked at the group of them seriously, “This isn’t for fun, everyone, this is for the safety and protection of myself and others. I have a panic button ready in case anything goes wrong, and I will have two more teams of marines on standby in low orbit in case something decides to happen. I have the diplomacy team to speak when I don’t know what to do, and I have the marines for a firefight if it comes to that. THe first sign of trouble and we fly out if we have to.”

He stepped forward a bit, looking around at the concerned and angry faces, “I understand you all are worried, but I have thought this through. I have taken your suggestions, and I am doing everything I can to stay safe.” He looked up at Sunny, “I will be equipped in the way that you suggested.” he turned to Krill and Katie, “We have the medical supplies that you ordered in the bags that were placed in the ready room.”

He turned to Narobi, “You sent in one of your best people to service all of the equipment days ago. I, and these men are as safe as we can be.”

Maybe one day he wouldn't have to explain his actions to these people, but he understood that, in the past he had made a bunch of poor decisions. This time would not be that time. He had thought of everything, and he had talked to everyone else to consider things he hadn’t thought of. He was listening to his crew, and differing to the knowledge of experts. He didn’t pick the team, he didn’t pick the equipment, and he was going to allow the knowledge of others to carry through this time.

Yes, one day he would be able to make a decision without explaining everything, but today was not that day.

He looked around, “Are there any objections?” He held up a hand to cut Krill off, “On the basis of logic and not being angry at me?”

Krill shut his mouth.

One of the floor technicians jogged up, “The shuttle is ready commander.”

He nodded and turned to the marines, “Load up!” He then turned and ordered a second pilot onto the ship so as not to leave it unmanned when they were gone.

In the confusion, he turned to head towards the ship, but something caught his hand.

He turned and looked up to find Sunny’s golden eyes staring down at him. He could tell she was mad, displeased, and even a little hurt, though she didn’t say any of that.

The one day he thought he had made no mistakes…. And he had.

He looked around quickly, and seeing no one paying attention, he took one of her other hands.

The Iron eye armor impeded a good connection but it would have to do, “I’ll talk to you when I get back.”

SHe remained quiet.

“I know…. I should have told you, and you can kick my ass later, ok?”

His smile fell from his face as she continued to glower.

He squeezed her hands, “Back before you can say Adam is a dipshit.” He squeezed one more time and let go turning towards the shuttle and flexing his shoulders with a hydraulic hiss , the iron eye clattering hungrily with every movement

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mork-lee-bee · 4 years ago

Text

Broken Lovers VII

Summary: Y/n is a hopeless romantic in love with someone who will never love her back and Jaehyun is helplessly in love with someone who only continues to hurt him over and over again, sounds like a match made in heaven right?

Pairings: CollegeStudent!Jaehyun X CollegeStudent!Y/N X CollegeStudent!Jaemin

Warnings: cursing,

Genre: angst/fluff/smut

Word count: 2.6 k

Masterlist

Jaemin drifts out of sleep as he reaches for his phone to hit the snooze button of his alarm that goes off in his room while his roommate mumbles out for him to shut it off. He finally gets it off while his eyes are still closed before his eyes flutter open, hair scattered in every which way as he tries to wake himself up, he drags his body out of bed.

“Need… coffee,” He mumbles to himself as he fumbles around in the dark trying not to wake Jeno up while also trying to find some clothes to change into to meet up with someone. After a struggle in the dark, he finally manages to throw on a clean pair of clothes and head out as Jeno continues to sleep in.

The early hours of the morning means that fewer people were up as Jaemin opens the door to his favorite cafe, his gaze turns to the counter out of habit where he spots someone working but to his dismay, it’s not his favorite barista. Frowning he makes his way over to the counter giving the man his order his usual tone laced with sleepiness.

“Uh, are you sure? This is going to be a strong drink…” The barista warns as Jaemin nods before paying for his drink and looking around the rest of the cafe his eyes landing on the person he was meeting up with, he was wearing a grey hoodie and sipping on an iced coffee his eyes closed trying to savor sleep.

“Hey, Johnny,” The blue-haired boy greets his fellow photography club member who slowly opens his eyes as he motions to the seat in front of him.

“Hey, Jaemin,” Johnny offers a sleepy smile as he rubs his eyes.

“Morning,” The younger of the two mumbles as he waits for the barista to finish making his drink.

“How are you?” Jaemin wonders but his mind is still hyper-focused on coffee as his headache starts approaching as the smell of coffee completely takes over his senses.

“Tired…” Johnny drifts off eyes closing again for a moment before opening up again.

“Then why the hell would you want to meet this early in the morning?” Jaemin asks confused rubbing his temple stealing glances at the barista taking his time when you would have had it done by now.

“I’m super busy like all week, ya know classes, work, the Frat,” Johnny lists off as Jaemin mentally curses him.

“So you decided to make me suffer?” Jaemin sets his head against the table waiting to hear his name like a child.

“Sorry I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important,” Johnny admits seeing as he’s also exhausted himself.

“What’s more important than sleep?” Jaemin pouts thinking about his comfy bed.

“Coffee for Jaemin!” The barista finally announces and Jaemin is up and over by the counter in no time at all as he snatches the drink off the counter and takes a sip of the very pungent drink he loves so much letting out a sigh of delight as if it’s happiness in a cup.

“Much better,” Jaemin smiles before taking his seat in front of Johnny once again.

“As I was saying, what’s more, important than sleep?” Jaemin claims again as he slowly feels himself waking up.

“My friend’s love life,” Johnny uses his straw to mix around the contents of his drink.

“What does this have to do with me exactly?” Jaemin raises an eyebrow in confusion try to understand.

“You know ____, right?” Johnny watches as Jaemin takes a drink and nods.

“Yeah, well I think my friend and her would be a good fit,” Johnny points out before drinking his coffee.

“Ohhhhhh, I see,” Jaemin smiles knowingly wiggling his eyebrows at the older guy.

“See what exactly?” Johnny hesitates watching the glimmer of mischief in Jaemin’s eyes.

“Do you like her?” Jaemin asks leaning forward interested in his answer as Johnny pinches the bridge of his nose.

“No, it’s not like that- I really mean that I think my FRIEND and her would be a good fit I just don’t know her that well,” Johnny emphasizes the word friend trying to explain the situation.

“Okay, so what does your FRIEND have to do with me?” Jaemin leans his head to the side not catching on quite yet.

“I need to know more information before I try to get them together but I don’t have any time to spend with her which is where you come in,” Johnny starts laying out his plan to Jaemin who listens intently.

“So you want me to get to know ____ and then pass the information to you for your FRIEND,” Jaemin asks unsure of this plan or even if this FRIEND exists. this whole thing starts to sound like a big game of telephone.

“I don’t know… about this, it seems wrong and why not let them figure out if that’s the case.” Jaemin suggests as a much more reasonable option.

“Please, My friend isn’t in the best mindset for making decisions so I just want to make it easier for him,” Johnny begs as Jaemin reluctantly looks at his friend across from him who’s clearly trying his best as he agrees.

“As long as she doesn’t end up hurt…” Jaemin adds as a smile clause as Johnny nods thanking Jaemin for his agreement to do this for him.

“I owe you,” Johnny gives a tired smile before getting up and leaving the small cafe while Jaemin stays in his seat drinking his coffee lost in his own thoughts.

-------

Jaehyun’s finger hovers over the button he’s dreading with the contact with Heejin’s picture on it but the name has been replaced with a simple devil emoji followed by DON’T CALL. Jaehyun runs his fingers through his head internally debating whether to click the call button eventually exiting the contacts and scrolling till he gets to the contact labeled ‘Gym Buddy’ proceeding to make a call to him instead as the phone rings.

“What’s up?” The person answers, their groggy voice making it obvious they didn’t wake up too long ago.

“Sorry, did I wake you up? I can call you later,” Jaehyun offers getting ready to end the call as they speak again.

“Nah, you’re fine I need to get up anyway.” The voice explains.

“Okay, I didn’t know who else would give me an unbiased answer,” Jaehyun starts off his free hand messing with his hair out of habit.

“Ummmmm, what do you mean?” The girl asks needing more than that.

“Just that you don’t know my relationship like my friends, so I need your opinion Soora.” His voice is fueled with confusion.

“Okayyyyy, go for it,” she happily agrees as she listen’s to her friend’s voice.

“So my Ex-girlfriend…” Jaehyun takes in a shaky breath before letting it out and continuing.

“Our relationship, it- it wasn’t healthy but she keeps telling me she’s changed and wants to give us a try again… But I don’t think I can take another heartbreak from this girl, I don’t really know what I’m asking from you I’m just getting this off my chest since you’re a new pair of ears.”

“Don’t go back to her,” Soora puts it simply before elaborating.

“No girl is worth that much pain, find someone who genuinely makes you happy to be around,” She explains her stance on his situation.

“But for the longest time that’s how she made me feel, and that keeps bringing me back to her trying to get back to that point.” Jaehyun counters reflecting on the start of the relationship.

“Look, Jaehyun. You could find someone who you know won’t hurt you or go into a relationship you don’t trust, just think about it…” Soora’s voice trails off as she lets out a yawn.

“I’ve got to go, I need to get ready for class but don’t go to her because you want to fix something too beyond repair, why try to fix a broken vase that will still have those cracks when you could find a new vase,” She ends her opinion looking at the time.

“Thanks, Soora, See you at the gym later,” Jaehyun’s voice sounds less anxious at the end of the call.

“Yup, I hope I could be of some help,” And with that, the call disconnects as Jaehyun leans back thinking over the conversation with a little less internal confliction.

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

A/N: Sorry I kinda took an unexpected break, but I’m back! <3 net part should be up on 9/12. ❤️

Taglist (Leave a note if you want to be added):

❤️ @yourchasingsunsetslove ❤️ @justineasian ❤️ @captainsjoongs ❤️ @theworld-accordingtocasey ❤️ @Yee-hawwwwwwww ❤️ @renjunstarlight ❤️ @soothingjae ❤️ @marklexleaf ❤️

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terry-perry · 4 years ago

Text

A Life Worth Sharing (Ian x Vampire!Reader)

A special request for my good friend @ladyfluff

Hope you enjoy!

Set in the Adam’s Family AU

She groaned as she felt herself being shaken awake. Her annoyance soon melted away, however, once her vision became less fuzzy and she caught sight of her boyfriend crouched down beside her and wearing that shy grin she loved so much.

“Sorry to wake you,” Ian mumbled. “But didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”

Peering over at the clock on her nightstand, she saw that it was almost five in the morning. She groaned again; she didn’t like it when he left super late (or super early, to some). His sleep schedule was already off-balanced enough with his job and her brother having him as his personal errand boy.

“Can’t you stay a little longer?” She pleaded.

“I wish I could, but my flight leaves very soon. And I have some music people I have to meet with tomorrow night.”

“Okay, but you’ll be back in two weeks right?”

“Definitely,” Ian grinned before leaning forward to give her a good, long kiss goodbye.

This had been their routine for almost two years now. It was a struggle at first with the constant back and forth and then the added revelation of what she and her family were, but they were able to adjust for the most part. They cared for one another too much to let what they had go so easily.

Even when they had only been on a handful of dates, it was almost unreal how intense their feelings were. Y/N knew this was definitely something she had never felt before. Like many others of her kind, she had her share of casual lovers throughout the centuries she lived -- only giving her heart to one or two souls.

She made peace long ago with the idea that there might not have been a special someone for her. She had convinced herself that the love she shared with her family was enough to sustain her. She did her best to be happy for her brothers as she’d watch them interact with their loves they had found; laughing at the way Peter would banter with Rowan, be fascinated at how Adam and Eve were able to communicate with one another without words.

She was happy for them, yes. But envious as well.

None of the others she’d been with made her feel what she did with Ian. Since the night they met, she would think back to the stories she heard long ago about their kind and their version of soulmates. They weren’t known to play around with their feelings. They may give in to carnal urges from time to time, but there’s very few they were willing to place their trust in.

And with Y/N and Ian’s relationship being a special case, she was willing to make it work no matter what way they chose to go about it all.

''Listen darling, all you've got to do right? You just take these, put them in some water right? Unless you want to dry them, dried flowers are amazing. You can use them for potpourri and stuff.''

Ian nodded as he continued to listen to what Peter had to say. What luck for him to be in Detroit on business. He was just who he wanted to speak to about what he planned on doing the next time he saw Y/N. Well, maybe that wasn’t entirely true.

Peter wasn’t exactly his first choice. He could’ve tried talking to one of his human friends that were in serious relationships of their own, his mother or even Eve if he especially wanted an unfiltered, unbiased opinion on the matter. But she was still doing what she did in Tangier. Regardless, Ian knew that if had to choose between Y/N’s two brothers, Peter would be the one to do his best to not judge as he gave his two cents.

At least then the risk of him being maimed would drop a good amount.

“She’ll really like these,” Peter continued, offering the small bundle of flowers. “They’re just like the ones we had outside our home, growing up. She used to love frolicking in the field and pick as many flowers as she could.”

Just then, Ian thought of his girlfriend. A mini version of her running around so carefree with her sweet smile intact. They had touched upon the subject of children in the past, and while it may have been a giant sacrifice to make when it came to dedicating his life to her, he knew it was worth it. He never even played with the idea of having children of his own until falling in love with Y/N.

“Can I ask you something?”

As expected, Peter offered him a friendly smile to let him know he was all ears with what he had to say. A nice change from the scary expressions Adam had to offer when it came to stuff like this.

“Yes?”

“How did you know Rowan was the one you wanted to be with?”

He got a bit worried when Peter’s expression went on to be a little more puzzled, as though unsure where this was going. Thankfully, he decided to answer without another second to think about it.

“I guess it was the way we were able to stand together through hard times. As you know, we met each other during a time where a love like ours wasn’t exactly celebrated. Quite the opposite. We had to earn the bliss we have now. That’s how it is with love, I suppose.”

Ian nodded, letting his words sit with him. Love was definitely work. Twice the hard work when it came to unique situations like this one. But it was all about being with someone that makes you want to do it. Someone that doesn’t make it feel like work.

And Ian did his best when it came to Y/N. The long distance, the different sleeping patterns and, of course, the morbid fact that he would eventually grow old and die. But he did all he could to make it work and be there for her. If he was meant to wither away, he would happily do so if it meant he gave his time to her.

“I know what you’re up to,”

Ian wasn’t able to escape Adam like he intended to. As harsh as it sounded -- especially since he was someone he genuinely looked up to -- Ian didn’t want to get the third degree from him. Had he contemplated getting his blessing? Sure. But his fear took over, knowing his thoughts on the relationship already.

So to now hear that Adam knew what he was planning on doing behind his back got him scared shitless.

“What do you mean?” Ian sputtered, deciding to play dumb.

The vampire could only narrow his eyes in response. He wasn’t in the mood for games. Then again, when was he? Ian grew more fearful as Adam stared him down. He had no choice but to sigh and give in.

“How did you know?”

“Speaking as someone that’s been hiding their true nature for 500 years, I know a bad liar when I see one,”

Ian could get that. Especially, now that he thought about it some more, he wasn’t the best with hiding his intentions the last several weeks. Adam must have spotted the catalogs he saved that had a great selection he could choose. If that didn’t get him to question anything, the way Ian showed interest in Adam’s marriage was definitely a big hint.

The two of them had a mostly business-like relationship with not a lot of personal information being transferred between themselves. That hardly changed when Ian started seeing Y/N; the two men not wanting this to change the arrangement they had, despite Adam being strongly against their coupling. So when he began to ask about the ways Adam made his marriage work, that was a definite red flag. Why would he be curious about his life and become suddenly bold enough to ask questions if he didn’t have some ulterior motive to his actions.

“Doesn’t help that you kept eyeballing my wedding photos,”

Ian cursed to himself. He was so stupid to think he could get away with how he kept checking out the old pictures Adam had of him and Eve. In his defense, they had been among the many photos Adam had of his heroes. Of those he knew once. He supposed it was because those particular ones were kept close and meant for his eyes only.

Those moments where Ian would sneak a peek, wondering about the ways he could have something similar with Y/N, he could understand how anyone could’ve caught on to what he was up to.

“Adam, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But you need to know that I love her. She’s it for me. I’ve known that since I first saw her, and that feeling hasn’t changed. I hope you understand.”

“I do,”

Well that was certainly something that caught him off guard. Adam wasn’t exactly someone that green lit what Ian had with Y/N. So to hear that he seemed to be okay with this next step...

“I may not be 100% okay with what you have with my sister, but I know how much you care about her. However, I can’t let you propose with just any ring.”

Ian wondered what he could mean by that until Adam pulled out something from the pocket of his robe. Revealing what he could describe as the shiniest and most beautiful diamond ring he has ever seen.

“This once belonged to one of the Bronte sisters, I can’t remember which. Either way, they were a couple of the few people Y/N admired and miss dearly. She’ll really appreciate it if you give this to her instead.”

Ian couldn’t help but smile. He may have not known who exactly were the people Adam was talking about, but he knew this was his way of getting his blessing in a way. It may not have been said out loud, but he knew Adam was aware of the feelings he had for Y/N. He wasn’t messing around when it came to her.

“Thanks Adam,”

The day had finally arrived. Well, the night. Whatever.

Ian didn’t have a complete plan, more of a hope that she’d say yes. It might have been why he decided to do it after witnessing her staring out the large window she possessed in her apartment when he welcomed himself in. This was it then, especially when Y/N turned to welcome him with a smile before going back to her other view.

“I don’t think I’ll ever tire of this sight,” she reflected, her eyes never leaving the lights the city of New York had to offer for the late night. She was sitting down on the chaise lounge that was near the window. He stared at her for a brief moment before closing the door and making his way over to her

“I was thinking the same thing,” he murmured, never taking his eyes off her as he stepped forward.

He wasn’t much for big gestures but she deserved it, this was the right time. He was sure.

“Y/N...”

She had no choice but to put her attention back to him. She wasn’t all too sure what was going on, but she had a feeling he had plenty to say as he took her hands in his. Needing her to feel the anxiousness he was feeling as he did his best to word all he wanted to tell her that moment.

“You’ve made me feel things that I didn’t know existed outside of movies and the songs we listen to. And I’ve realized that I don’t want to live without you. It doesn’t matter to me if we spend forever or just the rest of my life together. All I care about is that we spend our time protecting each other, taking care of each other and making the most of what we have together. Because you’re it for me baby. You’re the love of my life.”

Y/N reached up to cup his cheek with a warm smile and glassy eyes.

“And you’re mine,” she sighed.

Ian closed his eyes and succumbed to her touch, turning his head a bit so that he could kiss the palm of her hand. He laced it up with his and brought it down with him as he got down on one knee. He took a deep breath and looked up at her with his own vision starting to blur somewhat with tears. But he could still see the way she placed her free hand over her mouth in an attempt to repress all the emotions that wanted to come out at once.

“Y/N,” he began with an unsteady voice. “Will you marry me?”

With all the enthusiasm she had, she nodded her head.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you!”

Once he was back on his feet, she jumped into his arms and held on tight. He hugged her back with a similar amount of desperate strength and added in a fierce kiss that gained a bit of saltiness from their tears. With some reluctance, he broke apart from her when he remembered something.

“Fuck. I forgot the ring.” He said, fishing for the small, velvet box in his pocket. He took it out and opened it up to present the ring to her before placing it on her finger.

She marveled at the sparkling beauty of the diamond, tracing the delicate band and cut.

They shared another loving embrace after, as if holding onto one another would keep them safe and sheltered for as long as they lived.

#Ian x Reader #only lovers left alive #ian olla #ian olla x reader #anton yelchin #request #Olla #vampire!reader #sister!reader #oneshot

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imagine-loki · 5 years ago

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Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 38 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths. RATING: Mature NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

Ella used her seidr to plough the snow in front of her and compact it enough to have it easy to walk on. Behind her, the majority of the men left in the city that housed the Jotnar palace were with them, ready to assist people to leave their homes as a result of Laufey’s orders.

“That is an interesting ability to have,” Greta commented.

In the hour they had been walking side by side, neither woman had said anything to the other.

“It is a learned one. It takes many hundreds of years of practice, then, by the time you die, you supposedly realise that you barely knew anything, to begin with. Or so I am told, personally, I think I know more than most considering my ability and age.” She smiled as she lifted her dress to step over a large portion of ice. “I rarely seem to use it for anything but convenience though.” “Makes one wonder why you would invest time in it, to begin with, if all it does is make things more convenient.”

Ella could see Greta’s point. “When it is needed for other matters, no skill is greater. My grandfather, Bor, he was a seidr wielder too, it allowed him the power to defeat the Dark Elves, my father holds Gungnir because his seidr is even more powerful with it. The reason specifically why His Majesty was all too happy to take my father’s offer of an arranged marriage between Prince Loki and I was because, with my inherited ability to easily be trained in seidr, I bring with me a new ability to the Jotnar royal line. It is a rarely required strength but one worth having should it be required.” Greta said nothing for a short time as she walked along beside the Aesir princess. She thought over what Ella had said as well as thought over other thoughts that came into her mind as they made their way through the snow. One thought came to her more than others as they did but Greta did not think it something she could ask.

“There is something you wish to know.” Greta looked at Ella in shock. “I can all but read the thoughts on your face. You want to know why I chose you, don’t you?” “Can you read minds?” Greta became fearful at the thought.

“No, I just can read beings. I have been around too many for so long to not have learnt many things.” Ella explained. “With regards to why you specifically. I want to get to know you a slight bit more and you do not seem to want to bury me under several meters of solid ice, so I figured this to be as good a time as any to talk.”

“Why?” “You like Helbindi, do you not?” “I do.” “And you do not overly dislike me?” “I do not dislike you in the slightest, I think you brave for not only coming here when you knew many would loathe you and you fought to stay and have done nothing but want better for our realm since you first set foot here,” Greta smirked. “And how you treat those who dismiss you is something I will never cease to enjoy.” “Being female is not a sign of weakness, nor is it a prerequisite to being such.” Ella looked at the frozen ground in front of her. “Is there supposed to be running water here?”

“There was, apparently, before the war, it is long gone. How could you know that?” “When I use my seidr to move the snow, it gives me a general feel for what I am moving, in case there is a chasm here that I am not aware of, it has alerted me to flowing water. “Really?” Greta could not contain her excitement.

“Yes, so this is good, for the record, Jotunheim is not defrosting?” “No, this is not good, it is a miracle. We never thought it would happen again, my mother spoke of it as an impossibility.”

“Now you get to tell her otherwise.” “She is dead.” “I am genuinely sorry to hear that.” In truth, Ella was.

“Without the Casket, any who get ill did not last long.” “Yet you do not hate me for my father’s actions?” “You did not take it and it was taken for the actions of Jotunheim, to be angry with the Allfather would require being angry with my father, who stood and slaughtered Midgardians which caused this mess.” She stated sadly.

The silence returned for a while before the women had travelled what they could of the day. The murmur amongst those with them as to there being water flowing in Jotunheim once more lifting spirits as they did so.

“Can I ask you something?” Ella looked over at the Frost Giant. “The customs of your realm?” “Which ones?” “The ones between mates.” “What of them?” “Who thought to ever do such a thing? To have affection for another so to attach to one another by the mouth. Who thought that was something to do?”

Ella laughed at the explanation. “I have no idea. Loki would love your analysis on it.” “Did he find it odd at first?” “When I explained what two young Vanir in the gardens of the palace were doing, he first thought they were trying to eat one another and when I explained it, I think I made him at risk of seeing his breakfast again. He was nauseous from the mere thought of such things. Though, learning the etiquette of kissing the back of a hand served him well, I think that was as far as he could ever be pushed.” Greta frowned. “So, he never kissed you?” “Norns no. He sees it as odd, which I can see the reasoning for.” She shrugged.

Greta noted the slight sadness in Ella’s features at saying that. “You wish he did not?” She ventured.

Ella admonished herself internally for not hiding her emotions well enough. “In Asgard, it is normal, to not express affection in such a manner after a lifetime of thinking it normal leads to complex feelings on the matter. It is not of great importance but it is a peculiar feeling.” Seeing that the princess was not pleased with discussing the issue, Greta contemplated not speaking again before something that she had hoped to ask anyone Aesir or Vanir on came to mind. “Whatever about the mouth-kiss thing but what in the realms is it when mates use their mouths elsewhere? Is that truly something beings do?” Knowing what the Frost Giant was referencing to, Ella snorted a small laugh. “I am no use to you regarding that matter on an experience level, but I can say from speaking to women who have done it and from having read about it, it is common in many places.” “Helbindi has been pleading with Prince Loki to ask you to give him the book on such things,” Greta informed her.

“I know, he tried to have Arden ask me too. The thing is, it was not a book but at least a hundred. Beings from different realms love to write in regards to sex and everything pertaining to the topic, I have found.” Greta found herself laughing. “He is adamant to know of it.” “And no doubt put it to some form of use.”

Greta nodded. “Yes.”

Ella smiled. “With you?” “If I am lucky.”

“He does think a lot of you. I see him look at you across the throne room,” Ella informed her. “I do think he wishes very much wishes to be your mate and I think you well suited, not that my opinion matters any bit.”

“You are an unbiased source, so I take your statement over that of others. You have no agenda to push on this matter.”

Ella gave a small smile and got into the bed she had used her seidr to make for her, ensuring that Greta had something similar.

“I have to ask though, with everything that happened with Býleistr and his mate, with how she was Prince Loki’s love before, how do you think this will go?”

“If I am honest, I am not sure. I cannot pretend that this is all going to go well but it is not about how things are with Loki and his brother but about Jotunheim and the safety of us all.” Ella stated firmly before trying to get some rest, thinking the same herself.

It took a few days to get to the location where they would part ways with the men. On route, they warned all they saw of the order from Laufey hoping the Jotnar would listen to them and make their way East to where they would be more protected.

With directions to their destination, Ella and Greta began the walk alone, not thinking of much other than what was required of them on their journey.

When they arrived at the location, Ella frowned slightly as she looked at the building in front of her. It did not look like a palace or indeed a grand house, if anything, it looked like nothing she had ever seen before in the flesh. It had the appearance of a fortress over anything. They arrived at the gates, unsurprised to see them locked. With only a flick of her seidr, she had them opened and walked in.

When they arrived to the main door, it took even less effort to unlock them also. She looked around the bare hallway they found themselves in before thinking of what needed doing. Beside her, Greta looked somewhat uncomfortable.

“Býleistr?” Ella called out harshly. “I need to speak with you immediately.” Her voice echoed through the hall.

The sound of a door opening close by telling her of the location of the older prince. She waited for his arrival apprehensively.

“Why are you here?” He growled as he came into sight. “How dare you come here and demand my presence.”

“I did not demand it, if I were demanding, I would have told you to get into my presence immediately as I was going to speak with you, not implore that I needed to, and, since you are asking why I am here, that answers if you have left here any time recently. War is upon us.”

“What?” He demanded, his concern clear to see.

“Alfheim is at risk of falling, as you know, Jotunheim is the closest realm to it. If we do not prepare, we could be next. Loki and Helbindi have already joined my brother, the Light Elves and the Vanir. His Majesty wished to allow you a few days recovery before calling on you also but Jotunheim can wait no longer, she needs her third son to join the fray. The last remaining guards are gone to get the people to bring them to the East, if you remain here and they breach the realm, you will be cut off from the rest of us and will not last long against their magic, you need to get back to the palace.” “My father banished me here.” He snarled.

“He sent you here to quell unrest, giving you time away from the talk of others with your mates, you know this was not a punishment, not in the true sense. We all know that were Laufey to command it, you would know the true meaning of suffering. Cease acting as though you will not return, you know you will assist with this, you were raised for this and are a damn good fighter who enjoys a fight so don’t pretend you are not already considering going.” She turned to leave. “Why did my father send you?” “Because the men are needed to assist those who need them, you are too remote to simply trot here and then continue to them. I offered to inform you.” “Why?” “Because, as your brother’s mate, my being here should show you the severity of the situation.”

“How do I know this is not some sort of trick?” “You mean by my father to bring down Jotunheim from the inside?” Býleistr nodded. “Because were that the case, you being here alone and unaware of such things would actually have benefited such a plot, because I broke through your defences without alerting you until I called your name.” Býleistr frowned and looked at the door, noting that she had, in fact, done so. “Because if my father were to think of something like that, he would not give one single solitary care to you and your mates as you are of so little importance to him that he would most likely forget you and they even existed because as far as the guarding of Nine Realms are concerned; you, Býleistr, son of Laufey and Fárbauti, are so far down the list of issues he would see fit to be concerned about, that you would not make it into a thousand-page book of said list, I am sorry to inform you. I respect that in your personal thoughts, you are your paramount concern, as indeed we all are to ourselves, but to my father, the Allfather, King of Asgard and protector of the realms, you are nothing. I could obliterate you right here and now, so you cannot fathom what he could do but he would not do such a thing, nor will I, we need you alive to help our realm.” Býleistr shook his head. “I will not leave to help Asgard.” “Odd you should say that since none have asked such a boon of you.” “You mentioned ‘our’ realm.” “Yes, a you and I inclusive ‘our’. I am referencing Jotunheim, our home, our realm. I know you have yet to see past my appearance to see me as of here, but I am the mate of your brother, the children of which will be of Jotunheim, raised as Jotnar. All I do, I do for Jotunheim but you are so busy hating my skin to realise it.” She looked to where she could now see Alma and Angrboða watching them. “If anything, you should like me, I opened the door to you getting your second mate and talked Loki into not wanting to have you skinned for it. Now, get what you need and come on. It’s not a swift journey.”

“I do not take orders from you.” “I do not take no for an answer, so decide now if you want to be forced back by my seidr or your own free will because we are going back to the palace and you will be facing your father, so do you do so as a son willing to serve him or as a man forced back who disobeyed not an order from me, but his father.” Ella challenged.

Býleistr snarled for a moment. “What did you mean ‘It is clear I did not know’? Did you think I had a part in this, that I would do such a thing?”

“I did not know, such as I do not pretend to know what you are thinking now with regards to how you wish to return to the palace.” She looked at Greta. “We have done as instructed, so I suggest getting a few moments to compose yourself before we return, however our mates’ brother decides he wishes to do this.”

“So you expect us to just leave and follow you, is that it?” Angrboða growled.

“I have stated that it is the order of our king, so on the presentation of such knowledge, yes, I do.”

“You think we take orders from you.” “You take orders from your King,” Ella stated each word with enunciation and loudly. “You are not above him, nor are I or indeed your mate, lest you forget you are not the child of the king but the simply the mate of said child, the same as for me. I offered to come to show the severity of the situation and upon order from my King to ensure your return, I will follow said order should my last breathe be caused by it. Only I will not be at risk of such, for none will be so stupid as to challenge me on it. Now, I will ask you once more, please, get what you need, I can use my seidr so we do not need to carry it back and we can leave as soon as possible. Seeing you travel amongst those forced to flee will give them a sense that you are there for them, it will strengthen their thoughts, not just of your father, but of you specifically for standing with them.” She looked at Býleistr as she spoke the last few words. “They want to feel safe, you are a known fighter, you will make them feel so.”

Býleistr contemplated her words for a moment. “Alma, ‘Boda, get your belongings, we leave as soon as we are ready.” He stated, walking towards his mates. “Stay here,” He ordered Ella and Greta.

“I am going getting something to eat,” Ella stated, heading towards the area she hoped housed the kitchen. “We have not eaten since breakfast and we are hungry and I can literally smell the food from here and I am not leaving with an empty stomach. You pack, we eat.”

#Loki #others #submission #imagine #Chapter 38 #wolfpawn #Pride and Prejudice

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wolfpawn · 5 years ago

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Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 38

Story Summary - Based on an idea I had that I submitted to Imagine Loki. Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.

Chapter Summary - Ella and Greta speak as they make their way to Byleistr and his mates, forming the buds of a friendship.

Previous Chapter

Tags - @peppermint-j @damalseer @perpetual-fangirl @tinchentitri @inspired-snowflace @raphaelaisabella @alexakeyloveloki @caffiend-queen @devilbat @nonsensicalobsessions @skulliebythesea @majoringinlife @salempoe @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @rookienumber98 @ivytoh @agarwaeneth @rosierossette @arch-venus25 @nessamaurice

Request if you wish to be tagged

“That is an interesting ability to have,” Greta commented.

In the hour they had been walking side by side, neither woman had said anything to the other.

“Now you get to tell her otherwise.” “She is dead.” “I am genuinely sorry to hear that.” In truth, Ella was.

Greta noted the slight sadness in Ella’s features at saying that. “You wish he did not?” She ventured.

Greta nodded. “Yes.”

Ella smiled. “With you?” “If I am lucky.”

“You are an unbiased source, so I take your statement over that of others. You have no agenda to push on this matter.”

Ella gave a small smile and got into the bed she had used her seidr to make for her, ensuring that Greta had something similar.

“I have to ask though, with everything that happened with Býleistr and his mate, with how she was Prince Loki’s love before, how do you think this will go?”

With directions to their destination, Ella and Greta began the walk alone, not thinking of much other than what was required of them on their journey.

“Býleistr?” Ella called out harshly. “I need to speak with you immediately.” Her voice echoed through the hall.

The sound of a door opening close by telling her of the location of the older prince. She waited for his arrival apprehensively.

“Why are you here?” He growled as he came into sight. “How dare you come here and demand my presence.”

“What?” He demanded, his concern clear to see.

Býleistr snarled for a moment. “What did you mean ‘It is clear I did not know’? Did you think I had a part in this, that I would do such a thing?”

“So you expect us to just leave and follow you, is that it?” Angrboða growled.

“I have stated that it is the order of our king, so on the presentation of such knowledge, yes, I do.”

#pride and prejudice #wolfpawn #loki fic #chapter 38

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prpledusk · 5 years ago

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Whose the Traitor?

All of em.

Watched backcover again and all I gotta say is that all five foretellers are the traitor in some small way. Yes even Ava.

Simple fact is that other then barring the sigil all the foretellers are idiots and fail at their jobs in some way,

For Ira he failed in that he not only tried to stop what he knew was unstoppable and well didn’t do much else. In fact Ira was actually kinda lazy throughout the film he had plenty of chances to get involved but instead chose to stay his hand and let things play out as they did. He hesitated, and thus allowed things to get out of hand. To top it off he became rather paranoid, pointing fingers at Aced the moment he heard that Aced was making an alliance with Gula and had to be talked down from going after him by invi, think about that, he had to be talked DOWN from going after his so called support and friend. Showing ill confidence as a leader and failing to explain to Ava just WHY he needed to talk to Gula.

(Honestly a lot of this films can be solved by simple communication)

Then there’s Invi whose most blatantly going against her role, she’s suppose to be as unbiased as possible and a mediating support for all the foretellers but the moment she gets the chance she’s blabbing off everyone’s secrets to Ira and giving support only to him. She isn’t even trying to listen to Gula or Aced and immediately goes for Ava’s throat about gathering exceptional key kids she’s immediately all over Ira’s side and acting as if Ira is the only one who could possibly be telling the truth disputes the fact that she has no evidence that Ira could even be innocent himself.

Aced is both a red herring and a blatant traitor because well? His role in the first place is to stab Ira in the back. Should Ira falter Aced is to take his place but really Aced is never given clear instruction on what that means, and it’s obvious from the getgo that he’s looking for a reason to take over and is just blatantly jealous of Ira. Not to mention Aced is more the shoot first ask questions later type, he’s well meaning but is far too quick to judge and frankly he doubted Ira’s rule from the beginning, why wouldn’t he try to take over the moment he see’s a chance?

Gula Gula Gula, is the biggest dumbass outta all of them they all act like Gula has the braincell but let’s face it this boys a wizard with low int and high wis. Now before ya’ll go labeling me as a Gula hater lemme just say the first Union I joined was Leopardis, I think Gula and Ava are cute and I love all the foretellers but let’s face it someone accidentally stepped on the braincell at some point. Gula whole job is to find the traitor, and analyze the book, said traitor being someone who ““bares the sigil” and is shirking their roles.

Boi. How do you know if anyone is going outside their roles if no one knows whose role is WHAT?! The way everyone treats their roles it’s like it’s all suppose to be a big secret and no one knows but LITERALLY NO ONE is following their roles accept for Ava and Luxu (which I will get to). To top it off just like Aced and Ira, Gula was quick to fight Aced. Like...dude...you deserve the asswhoopin you got you REALLY just REALLY think you coulda walked away from that fight and be perfectly find? Gula. My boy. Your ate the braincell didn’t you?

And Ava...Poor girl. She’s sadly the only one who followed her role to the T next to Luxu, I think She and Goatboy are traitors because she and him clashed keys. Though Luxu less so because she was clearly attacking him and he was defending himself. Sadly we don’t know the contents of the conversation so I can’t say for certain that Luxu isn’t a traitor himself but whatever it was it spurned the precious baby Ava to attack him head on.

Thus heralding the start of the war.

In my opinion, they are all traitors and the beginning of the war wasn’t a result of one person but rather a group effort of individuals too stupid to see the signs of when your being led on by the carrot which don’t worry I’ll go over the Lion momentarily. I just needed to get this bit outta the way before I make my take on the master and why he’s the biggest dick on this side of dick town to ever dick his way through an entire group of dicks.

In summery; all the Foretellers are the Traitors in some capacity or another.

#foretellers #kh #kingdom hearts #backcover #ira #aced #gula #invi #ava #luxu #musings #master of masters #MoM is a dick

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awesomenightfall · 5 years ago

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[the wicked & the divine]

part of the "dragon age protags are terrible adults" modern!AU [Cassandra/Varric (eventual), humor, modern!AU, no tw, mild language, super unfinished] -- Seekers/Templars are pretty much police in this world and someone has it out for Cassandra (surprise, surprise). Varric gets a very unwelcome visit from Leliana (who wants to cash in a favor, natch) and an injured Cassandra.

---

In retrospect, the whole premise was so cliche that, as a writer who had built an entire career on delivering the unexpected, Varric almost laughed himself sick at the irony.

Cliche #1: It was, of course, a dark and stormy night. The place was Kirkwall-- The Hanged Man, to be more exact. The pub was one of Varric’s more profitable business ventures. For a crime ridden, dirty, rundown town, there had been a surprisingly lack of places for local degenerates to get wasted before Varric stepped in.

He was a very hands off owner that preferred to let management run the show. Still, Varric liked to frequent the bar to see his friends, play cards, but mostly to make sure Hawke wasn’t pissing away all of the profit by doling out free drinks to men and women she wanted to sleep with.

He trusted Hawke with his life, but with his wallet? Not so much.

The bar had closed for the night and Varric was reconciling the books. It was terribly monotonous but it was a nice break from his usually hectic life filled with a ridiculous amount of dramatic extraverts that demanded pretty much all of his attention. He also tended to get his best ideas at The Hanged Man late at night when he was decompressing from the day.

Then again, he had written his tawdry, bodice ripper Swords & Shields at this very barstool, so he had to concede that maybe not all of his ideas were very good.

Cliche # 2: The quiet was interrupted by a sharp, somewhat mysterious knock at the door. There were only two types of people who came by this late at night -- robbers or booty calls. Robbers didn’t usually knock and Varric had indulged in all of zero booty in Maker knows how long, so he was intrigued. And maybe a little afraid.

Please don’t be demons or bill collectors or ex-girlfriends, for the love of all that is good and holy, please don’t be a possessed ex-girlfriend looking to cash in on a debt...

It felt very dramatic, very film noir-esque, and Varric could almost hear the saxophone music queuing up in the background as his internal monologue began.

“‘Okay Tethras,’” Varric narrated, “‘I said to myself, ‘“You’re a tough guy. You’ve been shot at, possessed, faced down the Carta, forced to go to Bertrand’s social gatherings.” Now let’s see you do something really tough—like answering the door.’”

With a deep sigh and ignoring that niggling little thing called self preservation that was screeching at him not to do it, Varric walked over to the door. His hand hovered over the knob. “Any chance you’re selling cookies for charity and not here to mug me and/or rope me into some hairbrained scheme?”

“Varric,” a familiar, accented voice replied. “It’s Leliana. Open up.”

Crap. “So no cookies, I’m guessing,” Varric said as he unlocked the door against his better judgment. “Nightingale, if you wanted to have a private tête-à-tête, did you really need to wait until the asscrack of --?”

In Leliana’s arms was one Cassandra Pentaghast, currently white as a ghost, hunched over, and bleeding out from her skull.

Plot twist.

“What the hell happened?” Varric ushered them inside, wincing at the amount of blood dripping on the dingy bar floor. He had very little lover for the Seeker (and the feeling was undeniably mutual, for so many reasons, but mostly because he prided himself on being a fabulous liar and her job was to literally seek out the truth), but that didn’t mean he wanted her to die inside of his bar.

Then again, it might do something to add to the intrigue of The Hanged Man…

No, Varric decided, he didn’t need any more death on his hands. He might have had a little bit of a hate-on (“It’s like a hard on,” Isabela had said wisely, “but for someone you want to hate-bang right through the floor”) for Cassandra since the time she took him in for a grueling six hour interrogation concerning Hawke’s whereabouts, but he wasn’t a monster.

Besides, Cassandra would just haunt him from beyond the grave and did he really want to risk having to spend eternity listening to her make that little disgusted noise she always made when he spoke?

“Ugh,” Cassandra grunted when her eyes focused on Varric. “It’s you.”

And there it was. Cassandra was nothing if not dependable and predictable.

Leliana hefted Cassandra up on the chair; no easy task, considering how tall (unnecessarily so, in Varric’s completely unbiased opinion-- what does a woman need with that much leg?) and well muscled the Seeker was. Cassandra groaned, hazily blinking blood out of her eyes. She looked… well, she looked like complete and utter shit, Varric thought, and that was being charitable.

“Assassins,” Leliana confirmed. “We’re looking into it.”

“And no doubt you’ll find them.”

“By hook or by crook,” Leliana said simply and Varric shuddered. Leliana was sweet and pretty and it was easy to forget that she was a powerful spymaster with a whole network of followers at her disposal. But when she got that look, well… Varric didn’t envy the person who had been stupid enough to go after one of Leliana’s people.

Varric grabbed his first aid kit -- always fully stocked, thanks to Hawke’s penchant for getting into fights -- and set it down on a wooden table. “So. What’d the Seeker do to get the attention of assassins?”

“I imagine it’s some kind of personal grudge.” Leliana pulled on some latex gloves and got to work on the gash on Cassandra’s forehead.

“Wow,” Varric said, voice chalk full of exaggerated surprise, “imagine that. Someone doesn’t like the Seeker? Nightingale, call the presses. The world needs to know.”

Cassandra glared at him and hissed as Leliana pressed on the wound above her eyebrow. “Such a comedian, dwarf,” she drawled, voice slightly slurred from what Varric imagined was excruciating pain. He winced in sympathy and grabbed some ice from behind the bar, wrapping it in a towel and leaving it as a peace offering. Cassandra looked surprised and suspicious, not making a move for it just yet.

“Surprised you let them get a hit in,” Varric said, leaning back in his chair dangerously. “I thought you slept with your sword under your pillow.”

He might have imagined it, but for a moment it looked like Cassandra actually blushed. Must have been a trick of the light. “I-- I was indisposed.”

“Indisposed,” Varric echoed.

“Shut up. It was nothing.”

His thoughts raced. Indisposed? The Seeker? What did that even mean? Varric imagined -- not that he thought about her that often, because that would be weird -- that she spent 24/7 in her stiff, buttoned up uniform, sword at her side, vigilant and composed as she chased down criminals and ne'er-do-wells.

She was horribly embarrassed about it, whatever it was, and that only further fueled Varric’s curiosity.

“Well now I have to know. ‘Indisposed.’ How indisposed are we talking about here? Where does it rank on a scale from 1 to Hawke, Zevran, and a team of double jointed Antivan contortionists?”

Varric was rewarded with Cassandra’s patented disgusted noise and it was music to his ears. And that’s one win for the dwarf.

Leliana tried to hide a grin and failed miserably. “She was in the shower,” she loudly whispered.

Varric nearly tipped back in his chair but caught himself before he fell. “They attacked you in the shower?”

He had so many questions like:

Did she fight naked?

Did she bring the sword into the shower?

Wait, if she was in the shower then that meant that she wasn’t wearing --

For fuck’s sake, don’t. Don’t even go there.

“Ugh,” Cassandra groaned. “Be quiet, Leliana. And don’t you even think about telling anyone about this.” She shoved a finger into Varric’s chest, each word punctuated with a strong poke. “Not. One. Word.”

“Perish the thought, Seeker,” Varric said, moving out of reach before she gouged his heart out. “Would I ever tell anyone about you fighting assassins au naturel?”

“Yes,” Cassanda and Leliana said in unison.

He waved his hand. “Your secret’s safe with me.” Cassandra snorted again. “So, you were in the shower and assassins attacked. What happened next? Did you defend yourself with a loofah? Rubber ducky? Leave no detail out. Hard in Hightown has been missing bathroom shenanigans and honestly, this is just the inspiration I need.”

“Varric.”

“What? I said I wouldn’t tell anyone, I never said I wouldn’t write about it.”

“Varric!”

Andraste’s blessed ass, was it fun to mess with her.

Leliana cleared her throat politely. “Varric, you may be wondering why we’re here.”

“I, too, would like to know why we are here, Leliana.” Cassandra’s voice was as cold as the ice starting to melt on the table.

And here it comes, Varric thought. Should he just resign himself to whatever favor Leliana was going to cash in? Beg for mercy? Skip town for a bit so he could finally get some writing done? “You want me to find the attackers?”

“Well, since Cassandra’s apartment is currently being searched and it’s not quite safe for her to return, I thought, since you have a few extra rooms upstairs, you could let her stay here.”

“What.” Cassandra’s fury was palpable and it sent a shiver down Varric’s spine. He wondered who would win in a fight between Cassandra and Leliana. He wondered if the staff would be able to get all the blood out of the carpet. Mostly, he wondered why he always got caught up in all of this shit.

Leliana looked at Cassandra evenly. “There is a hole in your roof, Cassandra. How are you supposed to stay there?”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself--”

“You have a concussion and possibly a broken arm, along with a few ribs,” Leliana said. “Not to mention there is a group of people who want you dead. Until we isolate the threat, you shouldn’t be there, Cassandra. You know that.”

“Ugh. Do not baby me, Leliana, I am a grown woman who--”

The bickering continued in the background as Varric thought deeply on the newest crisis foisted upon him.

Varric wasn’t angry, per se, but he wasn’t jazzed at the thought of having Cassandra as a temporary roommate, either. This bar was his oasis, his anchor in the sea of chaos known as his life. Now he was supposed to let Cassandra “I’m going to tie you up and not in the fun way” Pentaghast stay there?

But then again, if her life really was in danger… and while they weren’t best friends, they were still acquaintances that had worked together… and she wasn’t completely awful when she wasn’t preaching or yelling or shoving him into walls...

… shit, he hated having a conscience.

“It’s fine,” Varric conceded. “Stay. You’ll be safe here.”

Cassandra opened her mouth to retort, but Varric got there first. “Hope you’re not a light sleeper.” He tapped his broken nose. “Deviated septum. Possible sleep apnea. So much snoring.”

“Ugh.”

Two wins for the dwarf.

#dragon age #varric tethras #Cassandra Pentaghast #k writes trash

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lonely-bored-writer · 5 years ago

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Is Everything Okay? Ch. 13

Deep breaths Danny. Deep breaths.

Danny groaned, dropping his head into his hands. The fear still coiled deep inside him, anxiety thrumming through his veins. He swallowed thickly, he can do this. He was sure of it... At least Anderson and Lancer were sure of him.

A sense of sadness filled him as he picked up his head and looked at his support. Jazz, Dash, Chris, and Lancer. All of which were watching from the sidelines. A feeling of disappointment and betrayal filled him with the sight of a missing brunette. His mum had chosen to stay by his dad side, rather than being here for this. She was supposed to be called to the stand, but she pulled out not even an hour ago.

Not that Danny could really blame her. Her husband, the lover of her life was fighting for his life in a hospital bed while the kid responsible for this was about to have a court hearing. He would love to stay by his dad, but he couldn't He couldn't just let this get pushed back, he knew if he didn't do this than he wouldn't do this ever again.

"It's going to be fine." Anderson smiled, taking a seat next to the distressed teen. Danny accepted the water offered to him with a tight lip smile and whisper of thanks. "You'll just need to answer a few questions, like we talked about, it shouldn't be long."

"I'm more worried about her..." Daniel mumbled, his head tilting into the direction of a hyper redhead. His eyes scanned the room quickly for the woman's sidekick, worry filling him at the realization that the little pest is missing.

"Hey." Anderson shifted forward, getting into the teen's field of vision and forcing him into eye contact. Soft brown eyes met anxious blue eyes. "It's going to be fine. I'm not lying. Ms. Spectra would not be able to play any of this into Masters' favor. We can win this."

Danny swallowed, the fear not wavering it's hold on him. But nonetheless the teen gave the agent a small smile, appreciating that someone actually believed in all of this. Even when him himself felt like all they were doing was grasping at straws.

"Now for the case of Fenton V. Masters."

"So Mr. Fenton, can you tell be about the first instance where my client laid a hand on you?" Jessica Fredrick questioned, walking up to the stand. The color drained from the teen's face, his eyes landed on Anderson who gave him an encouraging nod.

"Take your time." The judge spoke softly. Danny swallowed and nodded, choosing to ignore the fear stricken tears that pricked at his eyes.

"It... It was the time that he-he got back into my parents lives. There was a class reunion and he invited us to stay... My parents took him up on the offer, I mean I didn't even think he was a bad guy until I noticed things. I saw how he would insult my dad in ways no one really noticed, and he would constant flirt with my mum. I...It weirded me out, I didn't want to stay long so one night I went to look for something, anything for a reason to leave...

"I stumbled on this room, he had these monitors and it looked like it showed my house... That's when I started feeling really scared and uncomfortable, so I went to get my parents. But instead I bumped into V-Mr. Masters... He seemed angry, I tried to talk to him, but he wasn't having it That's when he hit me, and he did it a few times-"

"Why did you not think to call the authorities when you were first injured?" Fredrick asked, folding her perfectly manicured hands behind her back. An air of arrogance surrounded her suited form. "If you knew that Mr. Masters was stalking your family, and you were in fear for their life, why did you not call the police?" Danny trained his eyes on the wood before him, an odd feeling bubbled inside him.

"Because that night he threatened to kill my family if I told anyone... I believed him, Heck I still believe the froot-loop could do something like that. But now-"

"Now a teacher point out your bruises, so you're using my client as an escape goat?"

"It's-It's not like that!" Danny gasped, his head snapping up to stare at the lady before him. "Vlad has been hurting me for years! I just never thought anyone would care, that anyone would even bother with me . I was-am the slacker kid who 'goofed' off a ton-"

"So you admit you tend to vary from the things before you?"

"Objection!" Anderson quickly shot from his seat. "This is irrelevant."

"This is relevant for the determination of this teen's word." Fredrick turned to the judge.

"Move on Ms. Fredrick." Judge Montreal nodded, turning his gave back on the slightly trembling teen before him. The older man felt a pang of sympathy run through him, even if for the briefest moment.

"That is all." Fredrick smiled, however her eyes seem to glare at the teen. Danny saw a glint in her eyes that caused a new wave of fear run through him. Something wasn't right...

"Mr. Fenton." Anderson greeted, motioning toward a blank projector screen. "When you were first examined the medical examiner took photo evidence, correct?" Danny responded with a nod, tense when the screen shifted to his bruised and battered body. The sight of it made him realize just how much a week can do for healing.

"The M.E. recorded that Mr. Fenton here was given a fractured hip bone, a dislocated shoulder, three fractured ribs, a hairline fracture on his left wrist, a concussion. Along with that, more than fifty five percent of his body was covered in bruises, another fifteen percent was scar tissue, and five percent were covered in various cuts." Anderson listened, flipping the slide show through the various photos of the teen's body. "Mr. Fenton, do you see the man we did this to you in this room today?"

"Y-yes." Danny spoke, his finger nails dug into his arm out of view of everyone. He needed to stay grounded, he couldn't let the anxiety overwhelm him.

"Can you tell me who that is?" Anderson asked, making sure to move from in front of Masters. Danny looked up, only to be met with dark, angry eyes.

"Uh...Vlad-" Danny swallowed, his fingers tightened drastically. A small relief filled him. "Vlad Masters." Daniel nodded to the defendant table.

"No more questions." Anderson glance towards to opposing lawyer who signaled she was done with questions. "I would like to call Jasmine Fenton to the stand."

"We'll we be getting the verdict today?" Danny whispered to his lawyer, who gave a nod. Nodding as well, the teen shifted his gave at the vibrant redhead who took a seat at the podium. Danny did everything in his power to push down the anger and distress welling under his skin, but the sadistic smile the Psychologist flashed him told him he wasn't doing well.

"Ms. Spectra, can you please tell be about your clinical idea of Mr. Fenton based on his records?" Fredrick asked, but the double meaning in her tone and the spark in her eyes gave Danny conformation that something was going to do in his favor.

"As an unbiased opinion, I would say that Daniel is a child suffering from psychotic episodes while also being a compulsive liar." Spectra answered, her grim features were contradicted by the glee in her eyes as she stared straight at the brew of negative emotions before her. "His history has shown instances where he would disappear and once he came back he would lie a web without a second thought. Aside from that, he's classmates had reported seeing him speaking to, or 'fighting' with a seemingly invisible force."

"So, would you say the teen's words are unreliable."

"Very much so." Spectra nodded, before he next words came out she flashed a dark smile at the distressed teen. She could feel the surge of emotions that came from it, and she was rolling in her power. "It may also be smart to mention how the teen seems to believe that he is the ghostly hero of the town, Phantom."

Instantly Daniel tensed even more if that was possible, his mind clouded with anxiety and an intense sense of dread. Was it Spectra who was going to out him? He turned his gaze on the older man in the table aside of his, his eyes were met with a dark smirk from the man who was already staring at him. Suddenly it was getting harder to breathe.

"-Video of the teen acting as if he were the hero."

Did she just say video? Video of what exactly? It couldn't be good in any sense of the word. The panicking teen looked over his shoulder in hopes to see a relaxed and reassuring sister... Not what he saw. The disquietude quadruple at the sight of a panic looking sister. He needed to breath, he needed to get out of this. He turned his bleary and shifting eyes to Anderson who had a locked jaw and hard eyes.

Anderson could help. But Danny's mouth felt intensely dry, he wouldn't be able to speak even if he tried. Reaching out a shaking hand, Danny winced at the black dots running through his vision. Not enough oxygen, that much was clear.

His eyes focused some, trying to read or hear the words that Anderson was mouthing or speaking to him. He needed to focus, but the loud ringing in his ears made it so much harder for him to hear.

"Panic-You-Sir-We-Oxygen-Danie-Slow-S-Oka-" That was all the teen was able to make out before his vision was succumbed in darkness, his mind falling numb...

#Danny Phantom #danny fenton #IM SORRY DANNY #danny phantom fanfiction #fanfiction #fandom #fanfiction.net #fanfic #Fandoms #Is Everything Okay?

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modern-sybil · 6 years ago

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Wholesome Entire Magicians Cast Fluff - Chapter Two

Okay, the response to this post was pretty sweet (thank you everyone, you rock!!), so I’m making my idea a multi-chapter thing. Chapter two extends below the cut (this bitch was over 2,000 words, haha)

AO3: In The Happy Pause of it All

Chapter Two - Thanksgiving Competition: Penny vs Eliot

Josh has reviewed the rules, made his changes, and they were ready to go- one week of prep until Thanksgiving. Kady started taking bets on the side as to who everyone thought would win, and was surprised when even Fen got in the game. Who was gonna turn down the High King of Fillory? Even if she bet two silver and jewel daggers, which was a little unorthodox and would be difficult to split among the winners. But they were really pretty, and bad ass (like me, Kady thought, and laughed), and Kady was certain she could figure out how to make sure she ended up with them.

Quentin decided that Penny and El could get two people each to help them make all the food. Josh concurred, a sous chef and a second assistant were well within their rights to have. It took Penny days to make his final decision, but Eliot knew instantly who he wanted.

Q was only a little put out when Eliot chose Alice (I mean, she can cook and all) and Margo instead of him. Alice agreed, albeit grudgingly, and Margo was pretty sure it was because Kady had talked last weekend about how Penny looked really hot when he was cooking, but of course Margo would never say that out loud… Except she did, because she is Margo. Alice blushed and left the room to go make some tea, happy that Kady was out dealing with Hedgewitch business.

Q put up some token resistance at not being chosen, but his heart wasn’t in it. At least this meant he could watch excitedly (and taste test a lot on both sides) and he did not have to worry about accidentally setting something on fire… Like he did that time he tried to make popcorn on the stove. Which was an event Eliot quickly reminded him about.

“Come on, El! It was ONE time!!”

“Yeah, but the loft smelled like burnt popcorn until Alice came home and spelled it away. We do not need a repeat when the stakes are this high, Q. Alice is gonna be too busy ensuring my INEVITABLE VICTORY to spell away the smell of burnt roast duck.”

Penny went with Julia (no one was shocked there). But for his second person, he chose Zelda, which was definitely a twist no one saw coming. Especially Zelda, but everyone could see how happy it made her. She took the time to adjust her glasses before agreeing, trying to act as though she had seen it coming.

He denied it, but Julia was pretty sure he picked Zelda to make her feel more like one of the group, rather than for a tactical advantage. He claimed that her speed reading would come in handy, and handed her a stack of cookbooks to memorize before the big day.

The night before, at a light dinner of salad and soup (everyone was saving room for tomorrow) El suddenly threw down his spoon - “Fuck!! We never decided on what the loser has to do!”

Penny looked up from his not-so-subtle staring at Julia, shaking his head “I thought we were just doing this for bragging rights? And to know for sure who is the best. Which obviously is me.”

“Well, yeah,” El scoffed “but that is for the winner. What will you… I mean, the-as-of-yet-unknown-loser… have to do when they fail miserably and get CRUSHED INTO DUST?”

Marina, who had been crashing the dinners so often lately they just set a permanent place for her at the table, smiled. “I know.” She said. “And it is perfect. Loser has to clean up all the dishes and the entire kitchen - no magic.”

It was agreed, this seemed perfect- completely in harmony with the spirit of the event. And Alice had agreed to be a sous chef, so it wasn’t fair to assume she’d clean the kitchen as well.

Josh dragged a chair over so he could watch the whole event “to prevent cheating/maintain his unbiased outlook and ensure no travesties against food were commited” but everyone knew it was because he wanted to enjoy every second of being valued so much for his skills, and it was kinda cute tbh.

Penny went with a classic Thanksgiving feast, the only time he ran into an issue was when he wanted to have canned cranberry sauce - Josh said that was a no-go because it was a cooking competition. After a quick team huddle Penny had to send Jules out for more ingredients and he thanked his lucky stars that Zelda had memorized 6 different recipes for the jellied berries, so they put their heads together to come up with the perfect combo recipe.

Quentin kept stealing marshmallows that were supposed to be for the sweet potato casserole, until Penny shot him a look that was so reminiscent of back when they were roommates that Q backed up all the way over to Eliot’s prep station and stayed there for a good fifteen minutes. Peeking out from behind El’s back he waited Penny was adequately distracted and swooped in again. Zelda was making candied nuts, and all the wrath in the world couldn’t stop him from sneaking a few here and there.

Eliot was going all-out. This was a gourmet feast that would make Emeril Lagasse quake in his boots. Alice was a whirlwind behind and around him, definitely not putting on any extra flair for Kady, who was watching while leaning against a pillar, smiling gently. Margo was the most focused she had been since her quest in the dessert, attacking each task Eliot gave her with a voracious passion that made Josh shift a little in his chair and Fen bite her lip and unconsciously twirl her hair around her finger.

Of course Eliot also had themed drinks which he was crafting with care, crushing the mint delicately and lining the cup rims while keeping an eye on Quentin to make sure he wasn’t eating all of the sugar crusted flower petals because those were for garnish goddamnit. But he had to smile, because thinking back to the start of it all, his plan definitely worked. Q was eating regularly and his clothes all fit again. Taking a quick pause to look around, El was filled with a happiness that he never had in the mind-palace-situation, even in the physical kids college, because this? This was home. This was a family that knew him and loved him for who he was. This was everything…

“Quit your fucking daydreaming and mash your goddamn potatoes, Eliot” Margo snapped, hands never stilling from perfectly slicing apples and arranging them into rosettes. But then she looked up at him and smiled, and he knew that she once again saw him and understood where he was at, what he was thinking… But that this was a competition, and they had priorities.

Soon the entire apartment filled with the scent of happiness and home and good cooking, the savory notes of rosemary and turkey mixing with the sweetness of apple and pecan pies, offset with the spiciness of cardamom and ginger. Q was hopping all over the place at this point from the sugar high of his taste-testing, and eventually both Julia and Eliot agreed they had to banish him from the kitchen because he kept getting underfoot. But even as she made him leave, Jules smiled and snuck him another handful of marshmallows to tide him over.

Quentin decided to use all this energy to set the table, and as he was setting down the last of the dishes, everyone started trickling in. Fogg had brought his record player, and got some mellow tunes going in the background. In the past, none of the group would have thought Frank Sinatra was thanksgiving music, but after today everyone would smile and remember every time they heard “the way you look tonight” on the radio. Alice even sometimes added it to the queue of the playlist they normally had softly going in the evenings, just to ease tensions. She thought the way everyone’s face lit up was even better than the taste of bacon.

Marina came with a box of little gifts for everyone, which made everyone think that the universe had flipped upside down and pigs had wings, until her girlfriend came in behind her, all smiles and happiness and Marina passed off the box to Fen with a smile and a muttered “the things I do for love,” shuddering slightly before going to collect her girlfriend’s jacket to put in the other room.

Harriet came with a couple other Hedges that only Julia and Kady knew, so they added in the extra panel to the table and set more plates, and made sure they knew about the competition and why there were two completely different but complete meal options currently being prepared. Harriet pulled Kady aside and told her that these Hedges had nowhere else to go, and Kady just smiled and said “well, it is good that we have enough food for an army, then!”

Tick followed Fen around asking questions about absolutely everything until she got frustrated, he was distracting her from watching Margo…. uh, hanging out with the whole group as they finished up with the cooking. So she set him in front of the TV and showed him how to work the remote and left him to his own devices.

Dinner was eaten, everyone was lazing about the living room in various stages of food-coma, and the time for judgement had come. Josh was making a big deal of it, which made Penny frustrated, but Eliot saw as only right given the seriousness of his task. As he ate Josh had been writing notes in a notebook and he spent a good thirty minutes in his throne, er, chair, listening seriously to the input of every guest before adding to the tallies he was keeping.

After an hour, Margo started impatiently tapped her foot, staring at him and caressing Sorrow and Sorrow with a meaningful look. Clearing his throat and nervously adjusting his collar, Josh spoke. Finally.

“This was a close one, and opinions were widely split between the contestants.” He started, as Kady pulled out her list of who bet and what they bet. “In the end, I had to step back a bit. I had to take taste alone out of the competition, and go back to what Thanksgiving is all about. How it is the taste of childhood, the memories of years gone by…”

“And for that reason, sorry El, Penny is the clear winner.”

Penny and Julia let out a whoop from the corner where they were standing, grabbing her around the waist Penny spun her in a circle. Then, catching himself, he put a solemn look on his face and said “well, if you are sure.”

Kady started making the rounds, collecting money. Fogg handed his over with equanimity, Zelda was sheepish, making sure she told the room that she placed her bet BEFORE being chosen for Penny’s team, and thought it wasn’t fair to the spirit of the competition to change her mind. Margo scoffed and sat back in her chair, eyeing Josh up and down as though she had never seen anyone more ridiculous. Eliot dramatically draped himself over the couch, putting his head in Q’s lap. “I’m ruined,” he sighed, placing a hand against his forehead. Q ran a comforting hand through his hair, soothing the taller man as best as he could in the moment of his defeat.

“Josh,” Margo said , “you better explain why I, I mean, Eliot, lost… Right fucking now.”

Laughing nervously, Josh continued “Well, you see, Eliot’s dishes were amazing, no doubt. But Penny’s tasted more like Thanksgiving, and after hearing what the people had to say” he gestured around, spreading the blame as best as he could “I had to go with the meal that best fit the theme. The actual flavors were too neck-and-neck, I couldn’t pick on that alone in the end.” Margo nodded, once, reaching behind her for her purse to pay up, and Josh sighed in relief.

“Fair is fair,” Marina said, her girlfriend sitting in her lap contentedly, “Penny gets the bragging rights and Eliot cleans the kitchen - no magic.” Quentin could swear her eyes were a bit extra gleeful at the outcome, but he couldn’t be sure how she would have reacted if Penny had lost, so he kept the thought to himself.

Pulling himself up from the couch gracefully, Eliot exclaimed “never let it be said that I am a sore loser!!” With a flourish he created a trophy magically, and presented it to Penny. As Margo laughed and rolled her eyes, Penny smiled and polished it a bit with his sleeve. “I now will go… wash dishes and clean floors.”

Walking away, after grabbing Q’s hand to pull him along, Eliot turned around “But rest assured, my friend… There will be a rematch.”

#the magicians #the magicians fluff #the magicians tag #the magicians fanfiction #magicians ff #katie had thoughts #kady x alice #julia x penny #quentin x eliot #fargo

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