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fanmoose12 · 4 years ago

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to know your enemy

Hange glanced at him briefly – Levi stood with his hands behind his back, his head raised up high. Their eyes met – just for a second – but it was enough to calm her nerves.

Captain Levi was not an ally, most certainly not her friend, but amidst all foes, he was the only thing that gave her comfort.

A citizen and a loyal soldier of a country that wanted her dead, Captain Levi was the sole source of light in her life during these dark times.

Or, a Marleyan!Levi au

The cell they’ve put her in was cold. The wall she was chained up to was damp. A pool of something sticky and putrid beneath her legs was making her nauseous. It had a characteristic metallic smell that after years of being a soldier Hange knew all too well. She hoped, at least, that the blood wasn’t hers.

A single torch, hanging on the wall outside, behind the metal bars, was the only thing illuminating the cell. It was dark inside, but not dark enough for Hange not to distinguish a figure, looming over her.

She recognized him right away.

“Commander Hange,” Floch curled his lips in a cruel, bloodthirsty smile. “It’s so good to see you here.”

“Ah, the pleasure is all mine!” Hange replied, looking so cheerful and relaxed, as though she was sitting behind the desk in her office back at home, not chained and locked up in the darkest, deepest cell of Marleyan prison. “You know, I always wanted to visit the country I’ve been fighting against for so long. And you provided me with a perfect opportunity to take a much needed vacation!”

“My god,” the smile slipped from his lips. Floch’s expression changed to that of a complete distain. “You really are insufferable. It isn’t a surprise that Eldians are losing in this war, if you’re their Commander.”

“My soldiers don’t really complain. Much,” she grinned, showing her bloody teeth. Despite her high status back in Paradise, her Marleyan captors weren’t gentle or cautious with her. She gave them all the reason for that kind of treatment. “But I guess you know it already. Not that long ago, you were one of my soldiers too."

Floch seethed. "And as a Commander, you’ve disappointed me."

"Aw, you poor thing," Hange cooed, angering Floch even further. “I’ve disappointed you? That’s why you’ve decided to betray your country and your comrades? That’s why, while fleeing, you’ve killed several of my men?”

“I did not betray you, I merely switched sides. Unlike you, I prefer to stick to the winning team.”

“Or you’re just a scumbag with no sense of loyalty.”

“Shut up!” Floch surged forward, grabbing Hange by the collar. “You, Commander, who is dooming your own people with reckless decisions, what do you know about loyalty?”

“Apparently she knows more than you do,” spoke a cold, indifferent voice.

It had an immediate effect on Floch. His face palled and his lower lip began to tremble. He bit it to hide his unease from Hange’s sharp eyes.

He didn’t release his hold on her collar, though, and continued to glare stubbornly at her.

“Floch,” the man stepped out of shadows. Hange swallowed as she watched him. He was short, but his face was menacing enough to more than make up for it. “Are you that slow? Do I really need to spell it out? Let Eldian Commander go.”

“But—”

“No buts,” the man growled. He grabbed the back of Floch’s shirt, yanking him back hard. “You weren’t even supposed to be here, so get the fuck out.”

It was obvious – Floch wanted to argue, but one look from his superior officer and he surrendered, taking a step back from Hange and letting her go. He gave her one last look, filled with hatred, and then left.

Like a dog with its tail between its legs, Hange thought with no small amount of amusement.

After Floch’s departure, she was left alone with the unexpected savior. Hange stared at him, warily, waiting for his next move.

He stepped closer to her, and her eyes widened in surprise, when he raised his hand to unlock her shackles.

“Um,” Hange scrunched her face in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“You aren’t supposed to be here either,” the man explained with a roll of his eyes. “It was another one of Floch’s stupid stunts. This level of dungeon is made to hold rapists and murderers.”

A sparkle of curiosity ignited in the deepness of her honey brown eyes. Hange tilted her head, staring at the man beside her. “I’m sure most of your people would argue that I’m both.”

“I’m not most,” he scoffed. “And your crimes are not bigger than any of our soldiers.”

“Huh,” the last of her shackles fell down and Hange absentmindedly rubbed her freed wrists. “And here I thought that all Marleyans are pricks with a superiority complex. You proved me wrong,” she paused, not able to fight off a smile. “Captain Levi Ackerman.”

“So my reputation precedes me,” he sighed with a disgruntled expression. “Follow me,” he added, leading her out of the cell and down the dark, empty hallway. “And here,” he thrusted something in her hands. With a sense of bewilderment, Hange realized it was a handkerchief. “Wipe the blood off your face.”

“Oh,” Hange awkwardly chuckled. She could have used her own sleeve, but… it was kinda nice of him to offer. “Thanks. And about your reputation, yeah, you’re quite famous back at the island,” she easily fell into step with him. “Although, I admit it was hard to recognize you with all these scars.”

“That’s a courtesy of your soldiers and your deadly inventions, Commander.”

“You’re off from active duty, I take it? My men have a chance at winning this war then.”

“Had to step down from my position,” Captain said grimly. “My mother worried too much.”

“And they say Marleyans aren’t funny,” Hange opened her mouth, the cheerful laughter ready to bubble out of her throat, but then she stopped, gawking at the Captain. “Wait…” she asked cautiously. “You aren’t joking?”

“Marleyans aren’t funny,” he retorted in dead-pan voice.

This time, Hange did laugh.

“Here,” Captain led her into another cell. This one - sufficiently illuminated and with more than enough space to contain not only essentials, but a desk, a chair and even a bookshelf – was drastically different from the last.

“Wow,” Hange whistled. “This cell is almost as good as my office. Are Marleyans that welcoming to all of their prisoners?”

“Doubt you’d be feeling much at home here,” Captain Levi huffed. “Zeke is very eager to chat with you.”

“The infamous Zeke Yeager wants to talk with me? I’m impressed.”

"Just wait until he starts bragging about his royal heritage and other shit. You won't be that impressed after that."

"Well," with a grin, Hange plopped down on a bed that stood in the corner of the cell. Something was very, very wrong with her, but the company of Captain Levi was... actually enjoyable. "Will you be there to witness it?"

"A chance to see Zeke embarrass himself in front of an enemy war chief?" something that almost resembled a smile appeared on Captain's indifferent face. "Wouldn't miss it for the world, four-eyes."

***

“I’ve heard what Floch had done,” Zeke lowered his eyes and shook his head. Hange had to give it to him – he looked almost genuinely sincere. “He wasn’t acting on my orders, please believe me.”

“I know more than anyone how hard it is to rein in Floch. I took no offense, don’t fret.” Hange lifted a cup of tea Zeke brought her and looked at it skeptically. Then with the same expression of doubt, she turned her gaze back to him. “It’s safe to drink this, right?”

“Can I call you Hange?” Zeke asked. “I feel like we’re so alike, there is no need for titles.”

“Sure,” Hange shrugged. “Call me whatever you like.”

Zeke nodded, a pleased smile breaking on his face. “I would never scoop so low as to poison you, Hange,” he answered. “Meeting you is a great honor. I hope you enjoy this time as much as I do.”

Hange raised her gaze, looking over Zeke’s shoulder and exchanged a look with Captain Levi. He was wearing an irritated expression, and when their eyes met, he lifted an eyebrow, as though to tell Hange ‘I told you so’.

She hid a smile behind her cup.

“So what do you want to know?” she focused her attention back at Zeke. “The number of our troops? The location of strategic sights? How many times a day I take a shit?”

There was a sudden coughing sound, and as Hange looked up, she saw that Captain Levi turned around, his shoulders shaking slightly.

“I don’t think you understand the severity of your situation,” a smile slipped from Zeke’s lips. He obviously wasn’t as amused by her witty comeback as his Captain. “I may be kind and polite to you, but you’re still my prisoner.”

“And I don’t think you understand that I don’t give a fuck about that. Do whatever you like, Zeke. I won’t tell you anything.”

Zeke narrowed his eyes, glaring at her. “Enjoy your stay in Marley.” He declared between gritted teeth. “I’ll be seeing you again very soon.”

He rose to his feet, almost knocking a chair to the ground. Hange took a sip from her cup, watching how Zeke stormed out from her cell.

“Don’t take your eyes off her,” he instructed Levi. He muttered something else, something that sounded almost like a curse and then left.

“Wow.” Levi breathed out, when the sound of Zeke’s heavy footsteps disappeared. “I have to admit, you’re something else, four-eyes. I spent years, getting on his nerves, but five minutes with you? And he already calls ‘a fucking Eldian scum’? You’re force to be reckoned with.”

“And that was just our first meeting,” laying chin on her hand, Hange sighed dreamily. “What a nice guy. Can’t wait to see more of him.”

***

“Why are you here?”

Levi was leaning against the wall opposite from the cell Hange was contained to. As soon as the question left his lips, Hange looked up, closing the book she was reading.

An amused grin spread on her lips. “I’m sort of a prisoner here, didn’t you know?”

“I didn’t mean that,” Levi rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step closer. “How did you get here? How did you get captured?”

Hange frowned, scratching her head. “Haven’t you read the report?”

Levi did, more times that he could count. He read it again and again, trying to piece together the reasons for Hange’s behavior. Trying to understand why did she act the way she did.

“Ship Wings of Freedom was spotted near Marleyan borders.” Levi effortlessly recited the beginning of report. “According to the statement from Eldian Commander Hange Zoe, they were trying to launch a surprise attack at Odiha port. The ship was ambushed before Eldians could charge an assault. The only person, who was discovered at the ship’s board and, subsequently captured, is Hange Zoe, war chief and main engineer of Paradise Island.”

“So you did read it, huh?”

“Obviously, you couldn’t be the only person on that ship.” Levi contemplated aloud. “And that means you let your soldiers escape. Why did you stay behind?”

“Someone had to create a diversion,” Hange explained so easily, as though it was a simple, trite matter and not something Levi was obsessing over ever since she was placed under his care.

“Anybody could have done it,” Levi moved closer, touching the metal bars of the cell with his chest. His cold grey eyes bored into Hange. Perhaps, if he looked hard enough, he’d be able to see it. He’d be able to understand her. “Certainly, there were other less valuable soldiers than you.”

“Exactly. I was the most valuable one. And that meant your men would think twice before killing me.”

“You stayed behind… let us capture you, because… you wanted to save your squad?”

"Well, when you put it like that..." Hange giggled, a little embarrassed. "It sounds like I'm the worst Commander ever."

She couldn't have been further from the truth. In his life as a soldier, Levi had seen his fair share of Commanders. Some were awful, while some were much better. And, as far as he could judge, Hange was the best of them all. With just one act, she showed Levi what a real Commander must look like. Self-sacrificing, fearless and loyal not only to the country they’ve served, but to their soldiers as well.

If only things were different, Levi couldn't help but think, I would have happily followed you.

"Don't you regret it?" he asked. "Leaving your soldiers without your guidance?"

"They'll manage," Hange said without an ounce of incertitude in her voice.

"You're so confident in your subordinates?"

"They're the best of the best," a proud smile curled at her lips. Hange sat back in her chair, putting hands behind her head. "Just wait until they regroup. Mark my words, Captain. They’ll crush Marley in to time."

Marley had the biggest army in the world. They had the most advanced technology. They’ve conquered several countries. They were considered an indestructible, imperishable Empire.

And if there was anyone who could stand a chance against his motherland, Levi was sure - this fit could be achieved exclusively by the soldiers who were trained and tutored by Commander Hange Zoe.

"All this bragging about your squad," a smirk pulled on Levi's lips, amusement painting his usually stoic features. "Are you trying to recruit me, Commander Hange Zoe?"

"Why," Hange gave him a sly grin, raising her eyebrow. "Is it working?"

Levi snorted. "You have to do better than that to sway me, Commander."

"Ah, a shame," she giggled. "We could have used your skills, Captain."

"Need I remind you that you don't have an army right now?"

“It’s true, I don't. Right now. But who knows what is going to happen next?"

There was a small, but enigmatic smile on her lips, and fire inside her eyes burned brighter than the torch he was standing next to. Her expression made Levi realize that not all prejudices about Eldians were wrong. Hange proved that the old Marleyan saying - Eldians always have a trick up their sleeves – could actually be true.

It was obvious that she had some kind of a plan. And it was obvious that she was confident in its success. Rooting for her was wrong, some could even interpret it as treason.

And yet— a part of him hoped that she – and her people – would succeed.

***

Levi unlocked the door, stepping inside. The moment he crossed the threshold, a pair of gentle arms wrapped themselves around his neck.

"Levi," his mother pressed him tightly to her chest. "Welcome home."

"Sorry for being late," he whispered gruffly. He pressed his face into her neck, inhaling the familiar and dear scent of chamomile and lavender. "I had so much paperwork, I was practically swimming in it."

"My poor boy," Kuchel ruffled his hair and took a step back, releasing him from her embrace. "Take off your shoes and go wash your hands. I'll heat up dinner for you."

"Thanks," Levi said, shrugging off his formal coat and undoing his tie. As he stripped his uniform, breathing came a little easier.

"So?" Kuchel put a plate with broth in front of Levi and sat down next to him. "Is it true? Did they really capture Eldian Commander?"

"Yeah," Levi nodded, after he swallowed the first spoon of broth. "I've been assigned to watch over her."

Kuchel perked up. "And? Is she as terrible as they say?"

"No." Levi held the spoon a little tighter. He pursed his lips, staring in his plate with a faraway look. “She’s not terrible at all. Quite the contrary. I know that it’s wrong but… I think she’s a good person.”

"Eldian Commander?"

"Yes. Hange. She's my enemy, I know that. And I know that I must despise her, but... She's so good, mom. She's brave and she cares about her people, and... I can't help but think if this," he gave a vague gesture, "our lives - would have been better if people like Commander Hange were in charge. It makes me think… maybe, Kenny, that old bastard, was right."

"Honey..." Kuchel lovingly patted his cheek and exhaled, her beautiful grey eyes filling with sadness at the mention of her late brother. "During times like this, it’s hard to know what’s wrong and what’s right. Isn’t it wrong to kill people? Isn’t it wrong to hate an entire nation just because we don’t share the same name? They’re people just like us. Just like us, they can be good or bad. It's easier to hate them, to see them as monsters that need to be slayed. Doesn't mean that it's true. And if you see your enemy as someone worth of admiring, if you can forget about you differences and see just another person, isn’t that a good thing? Isn’t it something we should aspire to? You’re a kind and good man, Levi. And if there were more people like you… maybe, we wouldn’t be fighting this war at all.”

Silence fell over the small kitchen room. Levi thought about his mother’s words, he tried to imagine a world she was talking about. A better, kinder world with no hatred and prejudices. A world, where peace and happiness were more prevalent than war, starvation and poverty.

A world like this would have been nice. But sadly, it was nothing more than utopia.

“Well, that was enough philosophical monologues for one evening!" Kuchel chirped, jumping to her feet. "Quickly, eat the broth before it gets cold. I'll brew you a cup of tea in the meanwhile."

Levi complied, diving into his dinner. From the corner of his eyes, he continued watching his mother move around the kitchen. She stood on her tiptoes, reaching out to the higher shelf. As she did so, the sleeve of her dress rolled up, revealing an ugly, purple bruise around her wrist.

He was by her side in an instant.

"What is this?" he hissed, carefully lifting her arm. Kuchel looked at him, her eyed widening in alarm. "What is this?" Levi repeated, even though he already knew the answer.

"Honey-"

"Did that bastard do it?" he let go of her hand. His anger was growing and he didn't want his mother to become an accidental victim of it. He turned around and started to pace around the room. "I'll go to him." He declared, his whole body shaking with rage. He spoke quietly, but every word was filled with cold, merciless fury. "I'll kill that scumbag with my bare hands, I'll make him regret ever touching you."

"Levi!" Kuchel rushed to him, cradling his face in her palms. "Levi, calm down. This was just an accident. He apologized and it would never happen again, I swear."

In the arms of his mother, Levi's fury had lessened. He stared at her, as another feeling took its place instead of anger. The feeling of helplessness and despair.

"You can't continue seeing this bastard,” he said, almost pleading. “He hurts you, and I can't watch it happen."

"My boy," Kuchel kissed his forehead. "My Levi, we don’t really have a choice, remember? But, please, don’t worry about me, I’m doing alright. As long as you're with me, everything is going to be just fine."

"That was the last time," Levi promised, the fire returning to his gaze. "It was the last time he hurt you. General or not, if he ever does it again, I'll kill him. I'll kill him even if that would be the last thing I do. I won't let anyone make you suffer."

“Levi…” Kuchel sighed, quietly and warily. She lowered her hands and turned away, hiding the pain inside her eyes from Levi. He watched her back, his chest tightening. In that moment, his mother looked so small, so fragile. Levi despised the man who made her feel this way and his uncle, who put them into this mess. He despised their world for making her suffer so much.

And more than anything, he despised himself for not being able to protect her.

***

Hange's next meeting with Zeke was vastly different from the first. Instead of a small, suffocating cell, it was conducted in a large, spacious room with big windows and high ceilings.

And as Levi had led her inside, she was astonished to see that Zeke wasn't alone. The other generals - probably the entire main body of Marleyan brass - were waiting for her arrival.

All these attention to the little, insignificant her? And they say Marleyans aren't charming...

“Gentleman!” she greeted with a blindingly bright smile on her lips. There was a chair in the middle of the room, and she plopped down on it, still wearing the same happy expression. “Good day to all of you!”

Levi took his place just behind her shoulder. Hange glanced at him briefly – he stood with his hands behind his back, his head raised up high. Their eyes met – just for a second – but it was enough to calm her nerves.

Captain Levi was not an ally, most certainly not her friend, but amidst all foes, he was the only thing that gave her comfort.

A citizen and a loyal soldier of a country that wanted her dead, Captain Levi was the sole source of light in her life during these dark times.

“So?” Hange put hands on her knees, her gaze studying each member of Marleyan brass carefully. “What did you call me here for?”

“I’m sure you already know,” Zeke, who sat at the center of the table, took the word. He seemed more controlled than during their last meeting, and a confident smile has returned to his lips. “We haven’t finished our earlier conversation.”

Hange arched an eyebrow. “Still interested in my shitting techniques?”

“No.” Zeke answered grimly. A few surprised chuckles came from his colleagues around the table, and Hange could almost hear the sound of his teeth gritting against each other in frustration. “That’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

“We are more interested in other aspects of your job,” a man that sat next to Zeke spoke. “My name is Winston Greeves, it’s nice to meet you, Commander. Now,” he leaned closer, prepping his chin with his hand. “Is there something you wish to tell us? Something related to the state of your troops, perhaps?”

Hange lifted her head and tapped her lower lip with a finger. “Is there something that I wish to tell you…” she murmured pensively. “I guess I can tell you how much I’ve been enjoying your country and your hospitality...”

“Again, that’s not exactly what we want to hear ,” Greeves said, and the easy smile that was plastered on his face just moments ago became a little too tight around the edges.

“I would stop this farce, if I were you,” Zeke spoke again, his voice low and almost growl-like. “Unlike your barbaric, primitive island, Marley is a civilized nation, but that doesn’t mean we’re above using techniques that would undoubtedly untie your tongue.”

“Was that supposed to frighten me?” Hange asked with a bored, unimpressed look. She took off her glasses, wiping them with the sleeve of her shirt and looking at Zeke beneath her eyebrows. “Do better next time, Zeke. You think that threats would work on me? You think that promise of pain would make me submit? You think that there is anything you can do to me that will make me betray my own country? I surrendered willingly to you, idiots, I knew exactly what was going to happen to me. And I knew that I wouldn’t be getting out of it alive.”

“You’re right,” Zeke nodded. “You won’t survive. You will die, Hange Zoe. You will die regretting your loyalty and devotion. You will die, but not before you spill out to me every last one of your secrets.”

“Till our next meeting,” he promised darkly, gesturing Levi to take her away.

***

"Zeke's nice guy persona is slipping," Hange muttered, as Levi led her back to her cell. "I wonder what this sudden urgency is all about..."

Levi pursed his lips, thinking. He probably shouldn't say this to Hange. It was classified information, known only to the highest members of brass. If anyone finds out that he revealed it to Hange, without a doubt, he'd join her in that cell. And that's in the best case scenario.

On the other hand, there was no one Hange would pass this information onto. Telling it to her would have no consequences whatsoever.

Levi had decided. He turned to face Hange, but before his mouth could start forming words, a familiar smell entered his nostrils.

Chamomile and lavender.

He whirled around. General Greeves himself was standing behind him.

"Ackerman," he spat, barely looking at him. "We need to talk."

"Can't it wait?" Levi didn't bother to hide irritation from his voice. "I have to take care of the prisoner."

"The Eldian can wait." Greeves scoffed. "It's not like she can escape. Leave her and follow me."

Levi glanced back at Hange. She was looking right at him, her head tilted to the side, watching the exchange intently. There was a curious spark in her eyes and something else, something that looked almost like... concern? Whatever it was, Levi had no time to decipher that.

"I'll be right back," he told her curtly and followed after Greeves.

***

"Is your mother free this evening?" Greeves bluntly asked the second they were out of Hange's earshot.

"She is not," Levi said lowly. He looked at Greeves and all he could see was the frail pale wrist of his mother that was painted in mix of purple and dark yellow. It took all of his willpower and then more not to latch onto Greeves' neck and kill the bastard with his own hands.

"Then make sure she is." Greeves snapped. "And wipe that scowl from your face, boy. Or do you need reminding just how much I’ve done for you?"

Levi said nothing, just glared at Greeves from beneath his fridge.

Greeves looked around, the hallway was empty save for Hange, but he cared not for her. He grabbed Levi by the collar of his uniform, his hold strong enough to lift him off the floor.

"You have the gall, Ackerman," he hissed right into his face. "You, who got from me an apartment in the center of a capital and a fancy title of a Captain. Do you think I won't take it away from you? Do you think your mother is that good that I won't throw you out on a street? Or I can do much, much worse," a malicious smile spread on his lips, as he stared down at Levi as though he was nothing. "I can reveal a little secret. I can tell everyone that the dreaded Kenny the Ripper was actually an uncle of the brave and great Captain Levi Ackerman. Do you want me to do that, hm? Do you want the whole world to know that you were raised by a traitor? Do you want to repeat his fate alongside your dear mother? Believe me, getting lynched on the street is not the best way to go. So stop with attitude and be a good boy, understand?" Levi kept his silence and, furious, Greeves violently shook him. "I asked - do you understand?"

Levi thought of saying no. He thought of throwing the bastard's hands off him and punching him in the face. He thought of taking his gun out, of shooting him right in the center of that ugly, narrow forehead of his and watching life leave his eyes. His hand twitched.

But then he thought of his mother, of what they would do to her if he decides to succumb to his rage, of how many bruises would appear on her body after that.

He met Greeves's eyes and nodded.

"Use your words, brat."

Fury spiked inside him again, threatening to bubble out of his chest, his muscles, his bones and unleash itself onto his enemy.

He closed his eyes for a second, and the face of his mother appeared behind his eyelids. He saw her beautiful eyes, her tired but gentle smile.

"Yes." He said, his voice loud and clear. "I understand."

"Atta boy," Greeves smiled and roughly pushed him away, making Levi stumble. "Tell your mother my shift ends at seven. And I hope it goes without saying that you better not show your face while I'm there. Dismissed, Captain."

Greeves left after that, humming under his breath. It took Levi a couple of minutes to calm down. He stood frozen in place, breathing heavily as though he had just finished a marathon. He was so angry, his vision clouded. He saw nothing but blood. He wished for nothing but violence.

A careful, warm hand on his shoulder broke him out of his trance. He whirled around and was met face to face with none other than Commander Hange Zoe.

"Are you alright?" she murmured softly. The concern in her eyes was more prominent now. He stared at her for a second, wondering what was wrong with her. How much kindness was stored in her heart if she had enough to spare even for her enemy.

Well, he thought bitterly, it was her kindness that had led her there, to Marleyan prison and straight into Zeke’s arms.

In their world, it was best not to care at all. If only he knew how to do that, he lamented as the disquieted expression on Hange's face insistently tugged at his heart.

"Worry about yourself, four-eyes," he tore his eyes away from, putting on the familiar mask of cold asshole and trying to convince himself that that's what he really was. "Let's go, your cell awaits you."

***

When he came home that night, two hours after midnight his mother was already asleep. Or, at the very least, she appeared to be. The door to her room was closed and the house was dark. He approached it nevertheless, his hand touching the wooden surface. He almost knocked, but stopped himself before his hand curled into fist. He ached to know if she was alright, but he already knew that she wasn't, and going inside would only make all of it worse.

The world they live is cruel, he reminded himself, as he turned away and headed to his room. He tore off his uniform, kicking it in the corner.

He lay in his bed, fighting back tears. Fury and sorrow mixed in his mind, as he thought what his mother had to endure today, as he remembered that there was nothing he could to cease her suffering.

Their world was cruel, he remembered, and the only thing they could do is try to survive.

***

Levi took the next day off.

He woke up with the first rays of sunshine and quietly made his way to the kitchen. He cooked breakfast for his mother and then went out to the market to buy her flowers and pastries. He returned back home and went to wake her up.

The smile she gave him at the sight of fresh flowers and warm meal was enough to make him forget about his troubling thoughts.

"Let's take a walk," he offered after the breakfast was over and he dealt with the dishes.

His mother put on one of her best dresses. She let her hair down, and, as she put her arm through Levi's, a small, but endlessly happy smile curved at her lips.

"Shall we?" he asked after he put on his hat.

Kuchel giggled, covering her mouth with a palm, a picture of elegance. She made a small curtsy and murmured. "After you, my dear." The stroll through the park was nice.

They walked around for a bit, and then, when Levi's injured leg started to ache in protest, they sat down on a bench, enjoying the warm weather in the shadow of a big tree.

Knowing his son's quiet nature, Kuchel took it upon herself to fill the silence. She spoke about birds and how prettily they were singing, gushed over children that were running around and waxed poetic about trees, flowers and how beautiful they looked in the spring.

She was just telling Levi how much she enjoyed the smell of cherries when they're in bloom, when he saw one cheery petal fell down. It landed on Kuchel, tangling in her luscious, black hair.

Levi reached out to take it out and realized - it was time. He had to speak with his mother, had to tell her everything that's been on his mind.

"Mom," he began, looking her in the eyes. "Listen—"

"Shh," Kuchel pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "Levi, don't. I know what you want to say, and I'm asking you - don't. Our situation isn't the best, I can't deny it. But it's better than the fate your uncle has suffered. We're both still alive, we're still together. I can still be your mom, can welcome you home from work and take walks with you in the park. And that's more than enough for me. So," she pushed the hair away from his forehead and leaned in, leaving a kiss on his forehead. "Let's just enjoy this moment. Sometimes it's all we can do, my dear."

Something in the tone of her voice, the way she didn't look in his eyes evoked a feeling of dread inside him. It brought Levi unprompted desperation. He took his mother's hand in his and gripped it just a little tighter than usually.

Enjoy the moment, he repeated to himself, sometimes that's all we can do.

***

Levi returned to work the next day— and regretted ever leaving his post.

A couple of plates stood next to the Hange's cell, all of them untouched.

Hange herself wasn't in her usual spot, sitting behind the desk with a book in her hands. She was lying on the bed, facing the wall.

Levi swallowed and unlocked the door, stepping inside.

"Hey," he called softly, hoping that Hange just decided to take a nap and didn't hear him approach. She didn't respond. "Hey, it's me," he tried again, but received no answer once more.

His stomach fell as he thought about the reasons for her silence.

He hurried to her side and laid a hand on her shoulder. It was still warm. Levi let out a barely audible sigh of relief. Still warm meant still alive.

He shook her. "Get up, four-eyes."

"No," came her curt reply. Her voice was gruff, almost lifeless. Hearing it broke something in him.

Levi looked at Commander Hange, thinking what to do. Then he saw it - red seeping through the yellow of her shirt.

Zeke's methods in action, he thought grimly.

He turned around and marched out of the cell. With hurried steps, he went into infirmary and grabbed a med kit.

Commander Hange wasn't going to die. Not on his watch, at least.

"Get up," he ordered once he was back in her cell.

"No."

"Get up," he repeated, kicking the leg of the bed. "Right fucking now, four-eyes, those wounds of your need dressing."

A short laugh escaped from her lips. It was bitter and devoid of any mirth. "Why do you, of all people, worry about me?"

"I don't," Levi easily retorted. "But your people do. They want to get you back. It'd be a shame if their loyalty would result in nothing because you got too tired to continue fighting."

"Don't lecture me. What do you, Marleyan, know about my people?"

"More than you do, apparently."

That finally got her to face him.

The sight of Commander Hange almost made him choke. Her face was a mess, what was not bruised was covered in blood. Her nose looked broken and her right eye was swollen.

He felt bile rise to his throat as he continued to stare at the results of Zeke's desire to win this war.

"What do you mean?" Hange asked, her voice wary. Life slowly started to return to her eyes. “Do you know something?”

"Not much," Levi shrugged. "But there had been reports about suspicious activity on the south borders. They think your guys are getting ready to attack. That's why Zeke is so impatient to get information out of you."

Zeke was scared shitless. All of them were. Marley was an imperishable Empire who was involved in too many wars. They didn't have enough people to defend themselves in case of the attack on their land. With most of their soldiers fighting and conquering in countries far away, if Paradise attacks, they'll be practically defenseless.

"So quit moping," he told Hange. "Let me fix your wounds and then I'll bring you more food. Save your strength, four-eyes. Don't let your soldiers down."

"Has anyone ever told you you're quite rude, Captain?"

"More times that I could have count, Commander. Now, quickly, turn around and take off your shirt. We'll deal with the wounds here first."

"Bossy, aren't we?" Hange huffed, but complied and started to unbutton her shirt.

As she pushed the yellow cloth down, revealing her bare shoulders and back, Levi sighed in relief. The wounds there weren't as severe as he had expected.

Still, severe or not, the injuries had to be cleaned and dressed. Levi set out to work.

The touch of disinfectant to her bare skin made Hange hiss, but she didn't recoil. A soldier through and through, Levi noted with a growing sense of admiration.

"You weren't here yesterday," Hange spoke, her voice shaking slightly. "What were you doing?"

"Went to a park."

"Oh," Hange turned her face to the side, looking at him curiously. "Did you take Missus Ackerman with you?"

"Miss Ackerman," Levi corrected. "My mother."

“Interesting,” she hummed, biting her thumb. “So Marley’s strongest soldier is actually a momma’s boy?”

“Thinking of using it against me, Commander Hange?”

“You know what they say,” she shrugged, a smile pulling at her lips. It suited her a lot more than the pathetic expression from earlier. “All’s fair in war.”

“You’re cruel.”

“I’m effective.”

“And very annoying,” Levi scoffed, taking a step back. “Put on your shirt and turn around. I need to take care of the mess on your face now.”

“Why are you helping me?” Hange wondered, as Levi inspected her wounds, holding her chin in his hands.

“I’m not,” Levi answered, his gaze focused on the cut on her eyebrow. “I’m a loyal soldier of my country.”

“So by taking care of me…”

“I’m making sure that you live on. So you could reveal more information to us.”

The lie slipped easily from his lips. So easily that Levi almost began to think that it was the truth.

Commander Hange Zoe, however, wasn’t so effortlessly convinced.

“And yet you haven’t asked me a single question, Captain.”

“Levi,” he grunted, as he started to gently wipe the blood from her forehead.

“What?”

“Call me Levi.”

“Oh.” She looked down for a second, mumbling something under her breath. Her voice was too quiet, but Levi thought that she was mouthing his name. Then she raised her eyes and met his. A soft smile was playing on her lips. “Then you should call me Hange.”

“Nah,” he said, desperately trying to fight back a smile. “Four-eyes suits you much better.”

***

A week later the news came.

The base in Lago, where the main body of their navy was located, was destroyed. No survivors. No witnesses.

A banner of Wings of Freedom that was now fluttering in the wind at the top of the once great Lago base was enough of a clue, though.

The pride of Marley, the fear of dozens of their enemy nations, Lago base was thought to be indestructible. Just like Marley itself.

A week later the news came. The next day, Commander Hange Zoe lost an eye.

***

“Stop it with that face.”

“What face?” Levi tore his gaze away from the bloodied mess and a lifeless white that once had been a lively, rich brown color.

“That face. Stop looking so angry. Or I will start thinking that you care.”

Hange lifted a finger, and then— before Levi could react – slap her hand or push her away – she bopped his nose. He blinked and looked down. He didn’t know what face he was making right now, but it had Hange snickering.

“That’s better,” she declared.

“Idiot,” Levi scoffed and turned away, fumbling with the med kit he had brought. He was more than familiar with its contents by now, having regularly used it to treat her wounds, but he felt the need to keep himself busy, and, more importantly, keep himself facing away from Commander Hange. If she had noticed the flush on his face, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. “Of course, I do care. Your wound is bleeding. It ruins the sheets, you know.”

“Ah,” Hange nodded. “That is a serious problem.”

“More than you know. I wash those sheets, if you didn’t know.”

“You do? The great Captain Levi washes the sheets of a mere Eldian prisoner?”

“No one else wishes to do it. And I can’t stand that reek.”

“Oh god,” her remaining eye lighted up, as though Levi has just said the most wonderful thing she had ever heard. “I can’t believe it, Captain Levi Ackerman, the fear of all Eldians,” she paused dramatically, an amused smile playing on her lips. “Is actually a clean freak.”

Levi arched an eyebrow, giving the most unimpressed look he could muster. “Has anyone told you’re very stupid?”

“Never,” she confessed proudly. “I’m actually considered one of the smartest people in Paradise.”

“Makes sense then, why you’re losing this war.”

“Ouch,” Hange winced. “That actually hurt.”

“Speaking of pain…” Levi took a cloth dapped in antiseptic into his hand and grabbed Hange by the chin. “Let me take a look at your eye.”

In his years as a soldier, Levi had seen his share of injuries. But he had never got used to it. The sight of broken bones and lacerated skin, of blood seeping through uniform and sinking in between trembling fingers, it was a sight he just couldn’t get accustomed to, no matter how hard he tried and no matter how many battles he had witnessed and survived.

The wound that he was now seeing on the face of Hange Zoe wasn’t an exception. Looking at the cut running through her eye, the eye that was always filled with so much life and emotion, he felt sadness sip deep into his heart.

“Not as handsome as I was before, eh?” Hange lowered her voice to a quiet murmur, and when he glanced down at her face, he saw that she was wearing a hesitant expression.

“Nonsense,” Levi shook his head, chasing away his troubling thoughts, and began to wipe the blood away from her face. “Who told you were handsome before?”

“You are even snarkier than usual today.” Hange noted, her only eye looking at him closely. “Is there a reason for it, I wonder?”

“Who did this?” Levi asked. “Zeke?”

The hold he had on her jaw tightened ever so slightly, as he fought to conceal his anger. Thankfully, Hange didn’t comment on it.

“No. This little monster I had created myself.”

“Floch,” Levi guessed instantly. Of course, how he could forget about that damned bastard. “Well, if it gives you any consolation, Zeke isn’t having the time of his life either.”

“Oh?”

“Lago base was attacked, and, subsequently, destroyed.”

“Oh…” Hange bit her lip, a cautious and almost worried expression on her face. “And the attackers…”

“Were never found. The only thing that was discovered is the banner of Wings of Freedom.”

“Huh,” a wide, excited grin spread on her lips. “A stealthy approach then. Definitely one of Armin’s ideas.”

Levi kept his silence, continuing to work on her wound.

“What,” Hange playfully kicked his leg. “You’re not going to ask who that Armin is? His full name? His rank?”

“I’ll leave the interrogation stuff to Zeke,” Levi pursed his lips, the disgust showing at his face at the thought of the bearded jerk. “My job is cleaning up his messes.”

“And looking after me,” Hange said with a soft look in her eye. “You’re such a good man, Levi. So kind to me…”

“It’s not kindness,” Levi scoffed, doing his best to remain nonchalant and hide his discomfort. “Just basic human decency.”

“You think I deserve it?”

You deserve it more than most, he wanted to say.

“Why wouldn’t you deserve it,” he answered instead. “You’re a human too, aren’t you?”

Hange chuckled, the sound quiet and bitter. “Most of your countrymen would disagree.”

“I told you already. I’m not the most.”

“But you’ve told me something else too,” Hange argued. She lifted her hand and traced the line from his cheek to his mouth. “These scars… you said they were caused by the weapon I created. Don’t you hate me for that?”

“No.” Levi echoed. “You’re not at fault here. The war is.”

Hange fell silent after that, lost in her thoughts. To an accompaniment of her shallow breathing and infrequent hisses, Levi finished tending to her injury. He cleaned the wound, did his best to stitch the cut skin together and then dressed it in a white gauze.

When he was tying the ends at the back of her head, Hange softly touched his arm.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “For making survival just a bit easier for me.”

Levi looked into her eye, swept his gaze across all of her face and body, carving it to his memory, and nodded.

He turned around then and left her cell. As he walked through the empty, ill-lit hallways, he thought if Hange was able to understand, if she could see in his eyes that he was grateful to her for all the same reasons.

***

“Captain.”

Without asking for permission, without waiting for an invitation, Zeke waltzed inside Levi’s office, plopping down on the chair beside his desk.

“I came to talk with you,” he announced, that infuriating smile plastered to his lips. “Do you have a moment?”

“For you, Zeke?” Levi made sure to put as much sarcasm and distain in his voice as it was possible. “Always.”

“Excellent!” Zeke eagerly clasped his hands together. He either didn’t notice or simply didn’t care enough to respond to Levi’s taunting. “I wanted to discuss with you the infamous Commander Hange.”

His stomach fell as those words left Zeke’s mouth. Whatever he was going to say next, Levi was sure he wouldn’t like it. He didn’t let any of his anxiety show at his face, though, and so Levi nodded, prompting Zeke to continue.

“She’s a tough nut to crack, and as you’re well aware, we’re losing our precious time. We need to get at least something out of her, or the whole country is doomed.”

“And how is that my problem?” Levi lazily inquired. “Torturing people isn’t one of my responsibilities.”

“I’m not asking you to torture her, I doubt you can do that,” Zeke said it flippantly, like an after-thought. But his eyes stared at Levi intently, gauging his reaction. “But she trusts you. And I need you to exploit it.”

“Trusts me?” Levi scoffed, genuinely surprised by Zeke’s assertion. “We’re talking about Eldian Commander, do you think she’d be stupid enough to trust me?”

“You’re closer to her than any of us,” Zeke protested, serious, despite his ridiculous claims.

“So what?” Levi sat back in his chair, crossing hands on his chest and staring at Zeke with a deep frown on his face. “She lets me dress her wounds. That doesn’t mean she trusts me.”

“On the contrary. That’s exactly what it means. Do you think I’m such a barbarian, Levi?” Zeke asked, before Levi could continue protesting. “Do you think I have not offered to take care of her wounds? She laughed at me and then spat in my face.”

Despite his best efforts, Levi’s lips twitched as he fought back a smile. If only he could see it… The expression Zeke made in that moment, it was probably the one of pure disgust and hatred. Levi had spent years trying to make Zeke look at him like that.

Truly, Commander Hange Zoe was something else.

“Talk with her, Levi,” Zeke ordered, his voice tainted with anger at the sight of Levi’s clear amusement. “Do your country a service. Or else I’m going to dig deeper into the reasons of why Commander Zoe trusts you so. You wouldn’t want to become second Kenny the Ripper, would you? Your mother wouldn’t be able to take it. So think of her, if the loyalty to your country isn’t enough to motivate you.”

Without waiting for Levi’s reply, Zeke stood up and headed to the door.

“I hope you’ll make the right choice,” he said at last, and then disappeared behind the door, leaving Levi alone.

***

Another week passed, and all the main forces of their army were brought in to the capital. The brass looked at the young, but worn-out faces, at the once strong bodies that were now claimed by exhaustion and traumas, and realized – they had no army.

Their unwinnable, perfect soldiers, the elite of elites, they were too few of them. A lot had died far away from their motherland, conquering countries at the other side of the world, while the others fell victims to stray bullets and bombshells which left them broken and unable to fight.

And the military of indestructible Empire realized – they were going to lose this war.

***

Levi came home that evening, and found his mother behind a weasel, painting a tree branch that was visible from their window.

“I’m home,” he announced for his mother was too occupied with her work to notice his arrival.

At the sound of his voice, she turned around, and the brilliant smile on her lips was enough to calm his raging heart.

“You picked up art again?” he asked, as he approached her and laid a hand on her shoulder.

“I felt a sudden feat of inspiration,” she said, her voice like a sweet melody. “Although, I’m afraid my skills got a bit rough…”

“It’s beautiful,” Levi assured. “Did you eat dinner already?”

“Oh no,” her eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth. “I forgot to make it.”

“I’ll cook something for us, don’t worry. I’ll call you when it’s ready, you can continue painting.”

“Such a sweet boy,” she shook her head, lifting a brush and dipping it in a green paint. “How are things at work?”

Their second base, this one much closer to the capital was destroyed.

The situation was as bad as it could possibly be. Eldian forces were making rapid progress, and no one knew what to do to stop the invasion. They didn't have enough men to defend themselves, and, to make matters worse, they were yet to actually see the Eldian soldiers. The devils from Paradise remained hidden, striking from the shadows.

Zeke had departed from the capital, going to the closest army base to train the new recruits. Most of the Marleyan brass followed after him - Greeves had left too, and Levi suspected that it was the reason for his mother's good mood. They claimed they wanted to overlook the trainings, but Levi knew better - in case of the attack on the capital, they were hoping to wait it out in the safety of base's bunkers.

Zeke had left, but he sent Levi letters every day, asking on his progress with Hange. And every day, Levi had to come up with another lie to explain to him the absence of results.

So no, things at work weren't going that good, but then Levi remembered a smile that bloomed on Hange's face as he told her about the accomplishments of her soldiers, and he said.

"The work? It's going fine."

***

In a desperate attempt to showcase their superiority, to prove to the whole world that they're still the same indestructible Marley, the government decided to throw a parade.

The soldiers were rehearsing for days at end, perfecting their matching technique.

The sound of their tramps boomed through the main courtyard and reverberated through the stone walls of the army headquarters, as military officials and army engineers ran around, preparing the best and most advanced weaponry to show everyone their might.

During a day like this Levi led Hange out of her cell.

She walked through the hallways with a spring in her step and her hands dangling from side to side. For a tortured prisoner, she looked far too cheerful.

"Are you leading me to the gallows?" she asked in a playful singing voice.

Levi swept his gaze across her form, something coming alive inside him at the sight of her looking so joyful. "Unfortunately, no."

"Hm.” Hange nodded, narrowing her eye. “And what about the handcuffs?" she raised her free wrists. "Where are they? Am I not supposed to be an important and dangerous prisoner?"

"Are you going to run away, four-eyes?" Levi looked at her, a spark of amusement lightening his bored expression.

"I could try," she challenged.

"You could," Levi agreed. "And you wouldn't take more than two steps before I catch you."

"I could take you by surprise..."

"And you're saying this to prepare me for that surprise?"

Hange's bravado disappeared without a trace. "Damn your perceptiveness..." she muttered with a slight pout.

"So where are you taking me?" she repeated her question.

"To the bathroom."

"Eh?" a look of confusion settled over her face. "Is this a new method of torture?"

"No. I'm just sick of your smell. You reek worse than a pig, four-eyes."

"Ah, your clean freaky tendencies,” she snickered. “Of course, how could I forget."

“Take your clothes off,” he instructed once they were inside a brightly lit room with a bathtub standing at the center of it.

“I see you already prepared the water…” she murmured, approaching the tub and dipping her fingers in it. “And it’s still warm!”

“Don’t waste any more time then. Get inside, four-eyes.”

“Wait,” Hange sat at the edge of the tub and eyed him suspiciously. “You’re going to stay in the room with me?”

“You’re an important and dangerous prisoner,” he used her words from before. “Can’t exactly leave you here all alone, can I?”

“Or you just can’t resist my sexy and curvy body…” she whispered with a smirk on her lips.

“Start cleaning yourself,” Levi hastily turned around, hiding his blush. “Or I’ll do it myself.”

“Oh, will you be rough?” her sultry, sulky voice was quiet, but enticing. Levi hated the fact that it made his heart beat faster. “Will you manhandle me? Make me submit to your commands?”

“For fuck’s sake!” he growled, his ears and cheeks burning. “Just shut up and take a damn bath!”

“You’re no fun…” he heard her mumble. A moment later, he heard another sound, the one that made him exhale in relief – a sound of splashing water that signaled that Hange finally got inside the bathtub.

Levi tuned out everything else after that and stared out of the window, watching the soldiers march – one foot, then another, left and right, left and right, each move precise and controlled.

“So they’re organizing a parade,” Hange said. “Marley really doesn’t care that Paradise can attack at any moment?”

“On the contrary,” Levi disagreed. “Your guys got army higher-ups terrified as ever.”

“So this parade…”

“Is meant to show the other countries that we’re still as strong as ever, and ensure our own people that we got everything under control.”

“Not bad,” Hange hummed. “When people in Paradise start to doubt the government, they just start throwing shit at us.”

Despite himself, Levi chuckled. “Literally or figuratively?”

“Depends on how much we fucked up.”

“Paradise sounds more and more like my kind of country…” he mused quietly.

“I told you already,” Hange said, and without even looking at her, Levi could see the proud smirk on her face. “We could use your skills.”

“Are you trying to recruit me again, Commander?”

“It depends – is it working?”

Yes, Levi wanted to say. In the end, he said nothing.

“Hey,” she called. “Help me wash my hair, please.”

Levi wordlessly complied. He stood behind her back, his gaze involuntarily darting to the myriad of scars on her shoulder blades. He wondered about the story behind them. Without thinking, he reached out and traced the outline of one blemish, the one that ran along her spine.

“I have a lot of time to think nowadays,” Hange began, snapping Levi out of his reverie. He pulled his hand away, as fast as he could. The warmth from her skin lingered at his fingertips, making him wish to savor it for as long as possible. Ignoring the pleasant feeling, he pushed her down, wetting her hair. Then, when Hange reemerged, he squeezed shampoo onto his hands and buried them into her brown locks, gently carding through her hair. “I know it’s a bit stupid, and I know you most probably will laugh at me, or call me crazy, but… I thought if things were different, if—”

“If I wasn’t me, and you weren’t you?” Levi prompted, his voice hollow. He thought about the same thing.

“Yes,” Hange gave a slight nod. “If we had met under different circumstances, could we become… friends?”

Friends. What a weird word, what a constellation of different, but equally warm feelings. Affection, trust and care… They meant nothing to him. In all the years he was living in this world, he never really had anyone who could fit that description. He had colleagues, had brothers in arms, had his family… but a friend? He wasn’t familiar with that concept.

But if he was, Hange Zoe would probably fit that description to a tee.

If only things were different…

“Close your eyes,” he ordered, ignoring her question as though it had never been asked. “It’s time to rinse your hair.”

“Thank you,” Hange said, when she was finished with a bath and put on the fresh clothes Levi had brought her. It was his own, the white shirt was too wide for Hange in the shoulders and a little short in the sleeve’s area. She should have noticed, she probably had. She didn’t comment on it. “The bath was nice.”

She lowered her head after that, refusing to meet his eyes.

Even so, Levi nodded. “Let’s get back then. Your wounds need redressing.”

Hange followed him without another word. As he led her back, one thought repeated itself over and over in his head.

If only things were different…

***

The parade was fast approaching. And with that, came a spread of a rumor amongst high ranking officers that the attack was going to happen during the festivities. It was based on nothing, a little less than a stupid superstition.

Still, the atmosphere at the capital was becoming tenser and tenser with each passing day.

Zeke had come back along with other members of military, disappointed in Levi and desperate to get at least something out of unyielding Commander, something they could use to protect themselves before it was too late.

The absence of time was working in Levi's favor. Zeke couldn't spare even a second on him, otherwise he'd surely investigate the suspicious lack of any results.

Levi too had his fair share of reasons for anxieties. He couldn't leave the capital, his absence would be noticed immediately and punished severally, but he wasn't so keen to escape. He was ready to stand with other soldiers and do his best to protect his homeland, but his mother... His mother was another matter completely. He couldn't leave her in the city, even if Hange's people weren't quite as cruel, a fallen building or one particularly bloodthirsty soldier could become a reason for his mother's demise.

He couldn't let it happen.

So in the middle of the night, three days before the parade, Levi paid a visit to an old acquaintance.

Uri Reiss, the biggest adversary against Marley's imperial tendencies, the leader of a once influential political party and the sole reason of Kenny's early and shameful loss of a life, was now in the hiding, living the last days of his glory in the slumps at the edge of the city.

When Levi came, he was sitting in front of a fire with his legs folded underneath him, surrounded by a group of people.

Levi briefly wondered if that were his new followers. Looks like the bastard had lost everything, except his charm, he thought bitterly.

Uri looked bad, old and weary, he was a far cry from the charismatic and sharp man his uncle had decided to follow all those years ago. He was wearing baggy, dirty clothes that were patched up too many times. The only part of his garb that still seemed clean, the only thing he obviously took great care of, was a hat he was wearing on his head.

Kenny's hat, Levi realized after a second of staring at it.

Even after all those ten years that passed since Kenny's death, Levi still remembered that hat.

Remembered how easy it was to find his uncle in the crowd of people because of it. Remembered the texture, the feeling of it in his hands from those rare moments, when Kenny put it on his head.

Of course, he left it to that bastard. Gave it away, easily just like his life.

The mere thought of Kenny evoked a sense of deep, forgotten rage in Levi. The mere sight of his friend, the damned Uri Reiss that condemned their whole family with his naive beliefs, was enough to make Levi fume with anger.

"Levi," Uri squinted, looking at him. "Is that really you? What are you doing here?"

He stepped closer, the shadows from the fire that Uri and his friends were sitting around dancing across his face. "I came to collect my debt."

"Your debt?"

"Yes," he nodded. "You promised Kenny, I know you did, he told me so himself. In exchange for his life, you promised that in time of need, you'll help me and my mother."

"I hope you understand that my hands are quite tied, and I don't have the influence I once possessed," Uri tilted his head, his abnormally bright eyes studying Levi. Despite his old age, despite his current state, his eyes remained the same. The same wit and wisdom Kenny couldn't resist, they were still there. "So what do you want?"

"I'm not going to ask for much," Levi assured him. "I just need you to take my mother out of the city, as far away as you can manage."

"Ah, beautiful Kuchel," Uri shook his head, a wistful smile playing on his thin lips. "Kenny had a soft spot for her too. For both of you, you were the only thing he cared about..."

"And yet he gave his life for your cause," Levi growled, his hands squeezing into fists. “And left us to deal with consequences."

He always hated Uri, hated how much influence he had over Kenny. Hated how in the end, Kenny chose him, and not them, his family.

"Will you do this or not?"

"I—" Uri faltered for a second, something changing in the depth of his eyes. "Of course, I'll help you, Levi. In three days, I'll send one of my men to fetch Kuchel from your apartment. They'll bring her to a safe place, you have my word."

"Good," Levi turned around, unable to look at the bastard any longer.

"And you, Levi?" Uri called after him. "Don't you wish to leave too?"

"No," he answered, his gaze determined. "I'll stay here. Until the end."

***

Convincing his mother to leave proved to be a tougher challenge than Levi had expected. But in the end, after swearing to her that he would join her very soon, he was able to persuade her to start packing her things.

And that's how he spent the remaining three days - helping his mother and keeping Hange company. As though sensing the approach of her soldiers, she became much livelier. She talked about them a lot - gushing over her subordinates as if they were her own children.

Levi shared small bits about his life as well - briefly reminiscing about the time when Kenny was still alive, still with them and they were a small, but tight and loving family.

In moments like these, he couldn't get her words out of his head.

if we had met under different circumstances, could we become… friends?

In moments like these, he felt as though they already were.

***

Three days later, Levi was in a hurry.

He glanced at his pocket watch - it showed seven o'clock - and started running. He left his office and headed outside, passing dozens of people who were in the same state of haste as he was. The parade was starting in just an hour, civilians already started to gather at the main plaza, and everyone was busy with the last preparations. And Levi was in a rush to get home.

The pointer of his pocket watch showed that it was almost a quarter after seven and Levi squeezed himself in-between the large, tight crowd, desperate to get home.

If he was fast enough, she'd still be there. If he was fast enough, he could say a proper goodbye to his mother.

Panting and heaving, he all but tumbled into his apartment. Instantly— the smell of chamomile and lavender tickled his nostrils.

Levi relaxed, she was still here. He kicked off his shoes and walked inside.

He headed to the kitchen and froze a few steps short from it. With heart in his throat, his eyes slowly traced the trail of blood on the floor.

His mother— she wasn't there. Not anymore.

"That's what whores get for trying to escape."

Levi's head snapped to the sound of voice, that voice.

Greeves had walked out of the bathroom, the still bloodied knife in his hands.

Levi was at him in an instant.

He didn't think, he didn't feel as he had wretched the knife out of his hands and threw it away.

He glanced back, at the body of his mother. He saw the steely look in her eyes, a mask of suffering etched forever on her beautiful face.

He turned back to Greeves, and he hit.

His first blow broke his nose. Greeves hollered, and somewhere outside, a distance away from the little apartment in the center of the city, the fireworks started. Or, maybe, the defining explosion wasn't caused by fireworks, as the screams that followed were terrified, not excited, but Levi did not care enough to pay attention to it.

He hit Greeves again and again, and then again. His knuckles started to ache, but he didn't stop. Greeves fell to the ground and he didn't stop, just paused long enough to get on top of him. He stroke blow after blow, hit his face again and again, until there was nothing left.

Only then, he had stopped.

With his legs shaking and hands trembling, he stood up and approached the prone body of his mother.

He picked her up - as gently as he could with the hands that were made for war, with the hands that were covered in blood of her murderer - and brought her to her room, placing her on the bed.

He fixed her hair, wiped the blood from her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead, mimicking a gesture he had received from her so often.

Now that the fog that had taken over his mind was gone, Levi was more aware of his surroundings. Now he was able to understand what was going on outside.

It wasn't the sound of fireworks, those weren't the scream of triumph.

As a loyal soldier of Marleyan Empire, he knew all too well the sound of a thunder spear explosion.

The deadly invention of Commander Hange Zoe.

The city wasn't going to hold out for much longer. That meant he was still in a hurry. There was still an unfinished business he had to take care of.

***

All hell had broken loose, when Levi walked outside. The streets around him were ablaze with fire, from all sides all he could hear was explosions, cries and wallows.

The worst of the fighting was done on the main plaza. A downpour of bullets rained down all around him, as two sides desperately fought to achieve victory.

His blindingly white military coat was making him an easy target and wordlessly told everyone which side he was on. So Levi shook it off and made the rest of the way, running from cover to cover, wearing only his thin shirt.

Because, apparently, the universe had its fill of miseries for him already, he was able to get to the entrance of army headquarters relatively unharmed.

Once he stepped inside, Levi had to pause and survey his surroundings. After all the chaos outside, the familiar hallways seemed almost unnaturally quiet.

It was unexpectedly empty too, although Levi was sure it won’t last for long.

Without wasting another moment, he headed to the dungeons. The lone guard that still stood there, protecting god knows what, at the sight of Levi raised his arm in salute.

“Captain Ackerman!” he shouted with no small amount of relief. “We were looking for you, General Yeager needs you—”

The words slowly died on his throat, as he took a better look at Levi’s face.

“Captain?” the guard asked cautiously. “Your face… Did you already engage in a fight? Are you hurt?”

“Get lost,” Levi growled, pushing past him. “Go and hide somewhere, wait until the fighting is over. Don’t throw away your life for this country,” his face changed, a shadow passing through it. “It’s not worth it.”

Without another glance at the soldier, Levi opened the large metal door and walked in.

She must be still here. Thankfully, she was.

***

In the silence of the dungeons, the sound of a key turning and the lock opening was loud like a gunshot.

It had Hange bolting up from her place at the bed.

“Levi!” she exclaimed, relief and happiness mixing in her voice.

“Get out.” He rasped, hollow and lifeless.

“Levi?” she approached him, cautiously, like a cornered, wounded animal. “What—”

“Get out!” he yelled. “While you still can.”

The thundering noise of heavy footsteps sounded up above them. The soldier, guarding the entrance, had probably reported to someone the news about his arrival. That, or they have already found the body in his apartment.

Either way, he was already done for. After murdering a war general, there was only one way for him to go.

And he’d rather get hanged, knowing that he did at least one good thing in his life.

The irony of it all was laughable. Always praised for his loyalty and obedience, he ended up as a traitor.

Like uncle, like nephew.

“Levi, what happened?” Hange stood right in front of him, so close he could feel her breath on his cheek. She watched him, her eye shining with worry. “There’s blood on your face…”

“Not mine,” he answered, staring at the wall behind her shoulder with glassy, distant gaze.

“Thank gods…” she muttered, cradling his face in her hands. Using the sleeve of her shirt, she did her best to wipe the blood from his cheeks and jaw.

Levi didn’t look at her even once.

“Hey…” Hange tried again, moving even closer, her thumb absentmindedly brushing his cheekbone. “Levi, talk to me, please. What happened?”

“Go,” he wanted to push her away, but Hange didn’t sway, a look of stubborn determination taking over her features.

“I won’t go anywhere, until you tell me what happened.”

The footsteps became louder, soon they would reach the dungeon. He needed to get rid of Hange before that happens.

“My mother…” he whispered, shutting his eyes close. The mere memory of her body lying in a pool of her own blood brought him an immense amount of pain. It felt like someone had stuck a knife in his chest and turned it, it felt like someone had ripped his heart out.

“Oh, Levi,” Hange wrapped herself around him, burying her nose in his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. Who did that? Was it—”

“No,” he shook his head. “She was killed by Marleyan. And I killed him.”

“That won’t go unpunished,” Hange carefully said, still holding him in her arms.

“I know. And I don’t care.”

“I do,” she said suddenly, the fierceness of her voice surprising Levi. “Go with me.”

“What?” Levi took a step back, staring at Hange with wide eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“There is nothing keeping you here. And if you stay, they’ll put you in prison or worse. Run away with me, Levi.”

Her offer… was unexpected. He thought his life was already over, made his peace with that, but what Hange proposed… it didn’t sound that bad, not as bad as dying alone, at least.

If he accepted, he’d be able to find a purpose again. He’d finally get a friend.

He looked up at Hange. She was staring back at him, waiting for his answer. The footsteps up above stopped, and the voices appeared, Levi instantly recognized Zeke and Floch. They were close, possibly just behind the door.

Levi knew another way out, a hidden exit almost no one knew about. Hange could use it to escape, but she didn’t have much time.

Nevertheless, she didn’t falter. She didn’t glance back, didn’t fidget or sweat or tremble.

A force to be reckoned with, Levi remembered his own words.

“All this talk of running away…” he lifted his lips in a shadow of a smile. “Do you wish to recruit me so bad, Commander?”

“I told you, we could use your skills,” Hange answered, a smile breaking on her face as well. “So… are you interested in my offer?”

He reached out, grasped her hand in his and answered.

“I am.”

#just so you know this whole thing was created out of idea 'hey wouldn't levi look super hot in marleyan uniform?'#so you can imagine it's not super coherent #levihan #levihan fanfiction

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fleursdemeduse · 3 years ago

Text

Remembrance AU: Fighting For the Right Side

Warnings: Nightmare [Depiction of child death] ; Mention of death ; Allusion to mass murder and bombs

Words: 3.3k

You were quick to settle into your position in Pogtopia. Every day was primarily spent with Techno, but it was relaxing. You farmed, took trips to the bastion you two had met at, he protected you in fortresses, you two even went mining together. He was a comfortable constant in your world. Even when the voices got to be too much, you were with him. But that might have been what caused it all in the first place.

Settling into the small alcove Tommy said you could use, you decided that you could take this brief moment of quiet to read. You felt safe in the ravine, so much so that you had shed your armor back in Techno’s hidden stronghold.

Once sat in front of the fire, you tossed another small log in the flames. You'd have to go find more wood tomorrow but this was enough; The fire burning was bright enough you didn't need to light a torch and waste extra materials they might need, and the air warm enough you only needed a small throw blanket for added comfort to cuddle during the parts of your book the suspense physically got to you.

And so you got comfortable. You relaxed against the wall and you opened your book. Page 47.

Suddenly, sounds bombarded the child - a mad rustling, and then, twit twit, echoing over and over. They were familiar sounds, not particularly frightening, but unplaceable. A heartbeat was louder than anything else and the small nine year old could only wish that the sound were quieter. That everything was quieter.

The maze was an overgrown thing. Something so large that anyone who encountered it knew they could never escape. The shadows kept moving though; rushing faster than legs could ever hope to outrun. Faster and faster they crawled like vines all around. And soon the child was engulfed. Darkness spread to every limb, smothering wails that spilled from parted lips. There were no cries for help or alerts to any who would listen. Soon, nothing remained.

The crash had startled you awake. Your nightmare releasing it’s hold from you at the sudden sound. You relaxed quickly, however, seeing Wilbur in a heap next to the stairs. He must have fallen again. You pressed your lips together, remembering Techno’s words. “We used to have railin’s but Wilbur, he just really enjoyed fallin’ to his death.”

The brunet slowly got up and pat himself off before looking up at you and smiling. A smile like that could have made sunflowers turn to revel in its glow.

“Oh, hey. Sorry for waking you.” His voice was soft, probably to not wake anyone else if they hadn’t already been awoken already.

"Don't worry about it. It wasn’t a very good dream.” He nodded at you in understanding. “What were you doing out? On a secret mission?”

The teasing smile on your lips grew bigger when his smile soured and he scoffed, grumbling to himself about how every mission was technically a secret one.

Yours fell away when he started walking off, his softness darkened with the thought of what happened during his outing. You hesitated. You didn’t want to wake Techno. You two were only just growing closer and you didn’t know how the hybrid reacted to missing out on the little sleep he was actually getting. But you didn’t want to be with your thoughts. Despite not being even remotely close to the man now leaving you behind, you reached out for him. “Hey Wilbur?” He turned to look at you. "Can you stay? Just for tonight, please. I don't want to be alone after that."

You watched his brown eyes brighten and a boyish grin overtake his lips. It reminded you of Tommy’s. You briefly wondered if his mood always swung this dramatically. “I'll stay for as long as you need." He made his way to sit with you and you added another log to the fire, sitting up so the rock digging into your spine shifted away. Wilbur sat across from you, his presence immediately making you relax.

"So, Mr. Leader," You taunted once more, "What was the secret mission?"

In the coming days, you and Wilbur spent more time together. He’d tell you the most random facts about himself whilst you two worked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pay it any mind.

"Hey [y/n], guess what?"

"Hm?"

"I was born on September 14th. That makes me a Virgo."

"Did you know I can play guitar?"

"I think everyone knows that about you, Wilbur. Why do you ask?"

"I just thought you might wanna hear me play you something sometime..."

"You know, I was once married to this wonderful salmon named Sally. You remind me of her sometimes."

“With you on our side, [y/n], I know that we’re going to win L’manburg back. And I promise you’ll have a spot in my cabinet.”

It was decided. Techno and yourself would attend the festival while Wilbur and Tommy hung back and watched from a safe distance. You were nervous. A bad feeling grew like a stone in your stomach as they all prepared.

"Hey [y/n], come here a moment, will you?" Sighing as you stood from the chest you were going through, you felt your back pop in a few different places and you hissed before walking to where Wilbur stood. It was silent in the ravine, everyone just as anxious about the festival as you.

"Yeah?" You asked, resting a hand on his arm as you peeked around him at the paper on the table. It was a map of Manburg with “x”s scattered across it.

"Are you prepared?" He glanced down at you, watching the crease in your eyebrows deepen as you examined the plans.

"Mhm." You hummed, finally looking up at him. His eyes were so warm when they looked at you, just like Techno’s. Even if he didn’t have a smile, they were always filled with that same warmth that made you feel important. The two were more like brothers than either cared to admit. "Why?"

"Can I tell you something and you keep it a secret from Tommy and Techno?" Everything around you felt like it had stilled. Everything waiting for the other shoe to drop. The stone suddenly felt heavier.

"What is it?” He continued looking at you and you found it almost hard to breathe. "Wilbur?"

His hand reached to cup your cheek gently. They weren’t calloused like Technoblade’s. They were the hands of a poet, of a musician, of someone whose hand reached for the quill not the sword. They smelled of gunpowder. Your heart felt like it was in your throat when you realized what all of those “x”s were.

“You would risk letting all those people die just so you could have L’manburg back? Why?”

His voice came out hoarse when he finally brought himself to speak. "Because if I can’t have it, no one can, [y/n]. I'm so sorry."

Your lips trembled. You thought of all of the innocent people who would never see it coming. You thought of Tommy and Techno, getting ready in another part of the ravine who wouldn’t know until it was too late. You thought of the man before you who probably felt like he was doomed to keep repeating this action again and again. When had blowing something up ever worked in his past lifetimes? He had to know that this was crazy, right?

Wilbur continued to stare at your frightened face for a moment. He looked so serious. His dark eyebrows drawn together and lips turned just the slightest bit downward. But his eyes? The warmth that filled them seemed to be slowly draining and being replaced with dark melancholy. You hated that look on him and drew your hand up to hold the one cradling your face. “You don’t have to do this, y’know. There is always another way.”

Wilbur stepped forward, pulling you into an embrace that smelled of cedar and leather. His hand left your cheek to instead hold your head to his chest. You didn’t like this hug. This hug felt like he knew things were going to go horribly wrong and he didn’t want you to see the aftermath of it. “If there were one, we would have found it by now.”

Your hands gripped the soft material of his trench coat and you pressed your face into his sweater. You didn’t want this. You were happy to help where you could, but you didn’t want to be a part of the destruction of a nation. You just wanted to help your friends overthrow a tyrant. “I wish I were as brave as you, Wil.”

The soft huff of a chuckle reverberated through his chest as he squeezed you tighter. “Did you know that that’s the first time you’ve called me something other than my name?” His voice was uplifted at the end. He almost sounded happy by the thought. It was squashed when he sighed, pressing his face into your hair. “I wouldn’t call it bravery, though. Still, I promise that we’ll all end up on the other side of this together.”

You tilted your head up a bit to look at him. “Where else would we be?”

He didn’t answer you, just held you tighter.

If there was one thing Wilbur couldn’t describe himself as, it was good.

In previous lives, he had been a cruel, sadistic god. He forced hundreds of people to compete for his entertainment. They were rats, moles, ants, sometimes even just humans while he played the part of omnipotent creator. He had been a king sometimes, or a hero. And time and time again, he was just an older brother. But no matter what, he couldn’t seem to save the people who loved him the most. He couldn’t protect the ones who looked up to him; be it because he found sick joy in their deaths, or because he wasn’t strong enough.

He never felt strong enough.

When Technoblade had told him of the strange person whom he had met in the nether, he almost brushed it off. There was no way he had met someone whom he hadn’t shared at least one lifetime with. There was no such thing as new players who weren’t just NPCs.

However, when you stepped into the ravine, inventory absolutely filled with different items that you just willingly handed over to the pink haired hybrid with a smile, he was utterly floored. The curve of your lips, the tone of your voice, even the look in your eyes were all new to him. He had never once met you.

He approached the two of you with hurried steps, wondering what kind of trick you were playing, only to freeze when you turned your gaze to him. He could hear his own blood rushing through his ears and, for a moment, he wondered if you could hear it too. The expression you wore unnerved him. It was as if you had seen every lifetime, every possibility. Yet you still had the nerve to smile shyly at him. When you waved at him in silent greeting, he knew Technoblade had been completely correct in his assumption. Your lives were missing from your wrist.

You were an investment.

But no one made him feel as powerless as you did.

You were able to try things over and over and over again. You weren’t held back by memories of mistakes or fears. The tiny flits of trauma they all seemed to feel were just… absent in your being. You were unapologetic about running errands in Manburg and doing reconnaissance whilst you were out, seemingly unafraid during the recounts you had given him of meeting Schlatt and Tubbo for the first time.

And this seemed to hold true in your interactions with Tubbo. He didn’t treat you with the same feral energy he shared with Tommy or the attitude he put forth for his leaders. When you weren’t spending almost every waking moment with Technoblade, the soft murmur of your soft voices being heard through the stone walls that led to the farm, you were interacting with one or both of the teenagers that helped fuel the rebellion. Tubbo told you about new ideas he had, or described to you his day, or even just explained to you things that even he himself knew he would have trouble understanding, despite Tubbo being the one to explain them. Wilbur noticed that you just did that. You listened patiently while someone talked, despite the knowing look in your eye that made him feel like you already knew exactly what they were about to say. And this seemed to carry over into your relationship with Tommy.

You paid rapt attention to the blond, reminding him that even if he was still technically a child, that doesn’t mean he didn’t deserve to be listened to. The oddest part he found, though? Tommy actually returned the favor in kind. It wasn’t so much that you would go on long-winded tangents and he’d be forced to sit there and listen. It was that when you asked or told the sixteen year old to do something, he did it without too much of a fight. That’s not to say he wouldn’t talk back to you, he did almost every time, but it was the point that he would still do what you said without much hesitation. And every single time, Wilbur felt the sharpest stab of envy.

He had questioned Tommy after the first couple instances of it happening before him. He had cornered the very person who had been his younger brother in many previous lives against the cold stone wall on one of the walk ways while you and Techno were out gathering things from the nether and demanded to know why. However, the young soldier just shrugged in response. “They just usually have very fun ideas.” He had stared long and hard at the blonde, the other fiddling with the hem of his dirty shirt. He made a mental note to ask if you’d be willing to do laundry for them when you next went to Manburg. “That and…”

“And?” Wilbur had immediately prompted, knowing the time he had to question the younger was running short.

“They just have that tone of voice. And something makes me feel like I should listen when they tell me to do something.” Wilbur rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to berate him. “Sometimes it feels like they know way more than they should. Like they already know what’s going to happen.”

The brunet’s words died on his tongue.

They all felt like that.

But if you knew so much, why did you never talk about any of your past lives like the rest of them did? If you knew what was going to happen, why were you so patient and let them make mistake after mistake?

The thought sat bitterly at the forefront of his mind as he pat himself off, having fallen off the side of the walkway yet again. He almost regretted removing the child-proofing, but he was an adult, and he didn’t need them, and he certainly wasn’t going to recant his insistence that they didn’t need them. He turned when he heard shifting and saw you slumped against the side of the ravine.

In the dim lighting, you looked different. You were cuddled under a thin blanket, eyebrows furrowed and mouth pressed into a pout that reminded him of a child. He must have awoken you. You looked rather cute like this, though.

He smiled at you despite himself. He was still a little hesitant about being around you. He didn’t need help in his daily activities like Technoblade, he didn’t need a guiding hand like Tommy, and he felt plenty listened to daily, unlike Tubbo.

But somehow, he didn’t feel as loved as you were.

“Oh hey, sorry for waking you.” The words had slipped from his mouth before he had had a chance to stop them. Now he’d be forced to converse with you. He watched your eyes look away from him, even in the dim light.

"It wasn’t a very good dream.” You didn’t have good dreams? What was there to have a nightmare of? He tucked that piece of information away for later, your eyes were back on him. “What were you doing out? On a secret mission?”

His mood immediately dropped, especially when he saw the mocking grin that planted itself on your face. It was as if this were a game to you. “Every mission we pursue is a secret one, you of all people should know that.”

The grin just grew and he felt his chest tighten. How could you act so lax when you seemed to know exactly what happened when he was out there? He turned to walk back to his desk to write about the events that had transpired and quell his anger. He wasn’t truly upset with you, he knew that, and he didn’t want to take that out on the one person that seemed to be holding together his fellow usurpers, but you almost irritated him. His soft steps reverberated through their base.

“Hey Wilbur?”

His steps faltered. Despite your previous mood, you suddenly sounded so small. Afraid. He looked at you from over his shoulder and was surprised to see your extended hand.

“Can you stay for tonight? I don’t want to be alone after that.”

A new feeling sparked in him.

You wanted him? The one who had been so helpful for everyone else, to the cause, even to him on occasion, needed his help? How bad had your dream been? You looked so distraught, so powerless. He didn’t feel so weak when you looked at him like that.

“I’ll stay for as long as you need.” Your eyes held a warmth that could rival the fire in front of them. You moved to feed it and he sat across from you. You two weren’t close in either sense of emotionally or physically.

When had that changed?

He felt compelled to check up on you more after that night, use you as the investment that he believed you to be. No one in Manburg knew of your status, and he was planning on using it to their advantage.

Or, he had been.

But you made him feel safe about sharing things about himself. You were easy to talk to, easy to work around, easy to listen to. You would have been so easy to use.

Maybe that’s why he told you of the plan he and Tubbo had come up with.

You had found your way into much more than his good graces, just like the rest of them, and he didn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire. You were so susceptible to influence, he feared you’d start to see him as a villain. He knew what people would say about him. He wanted you to know his thoughts and feelings before you could be tainted by their remarks.

He had shared memories with you before. They all had. Words seemed to fall unencumbered whenever you were around and they were all victim to it. But you hadn’t judged any of them on the actions they had taken in their previous lives. You didn’t even judge them on the actions they had taken in this one. Despite this, he was still scared you’d be turned against him if he wasn’t the one to tell you.

“I think everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves.”

It was his turn to prove that they were fighting for the right side.

#RemembranceAU #dsmp au #dream smp au #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt x reader #tw: nightmares #tw: death #tw: child death #tw: genocide #tw: bomb

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago

Text

Unfinished Business ~ Part Eight

WORD COUNT: 4.9K

WARNINGS: Mentions of mafia, strong language, murder, blood, torture

PAIRING: Bang Chan X Reader

DESCRIPTION: Part eight of nine of my new Bang Chan series.

You’re taken hostage but one of Seoul’s leading mafia families Bang Chan but he doesn’t take you because he wants to fake a marriage or make you fall for him in 365 days no…He wants to use you for his own personal gain. To take over another family but when you try to escape things take a turn for the worst and you learn Chan isn’t one to be messed with.(Please I suck at describing stuff)

THEMES: Chan x Fem!Reader, Self insert

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

"I asked you a question, it's very rude not to respond to me." Namjoon snarled at you, you stared up at him through your lashes and licked your lips to remove some of the blood. The taste of blood ran through your tongue and you spat down onto the floor beside his foot, which he didn't like. Blood was dripping from your busted lip and some from a cut near your back that would need some form of stitches, if you ever got out of the warehouse he was keeping you in.

"I won't tell you anything about him." Your voice was laced with poison, and you got another slap across your cheek for speaking to him like that. No one was allowed to speak to him that way, it had been this way from the moment he got you back here. He'd slap, kick, punch and even threaten you with weapons unless you gave him what he wanted from you.

"You know," You spat blood by his feet once more. He stared at you with a raised eyebrow, wanting to know what you had to say to him,

"At least when Chan kept me tied up I was warm." He growled, grabbing onto your face by each cheek he forced you to look at him in the eyes as he spoke to you. You could practically smell what he'd eaten all day and you groaned at him.

"At least have a breath mint if you're going to get this close to me." He gripped onto you tightly and sneered at you. He was pissed that you were trying to act like someone you weren't.

"If you're going to pretend to be tough you better be ready, doll face." He smirked at you, looking over his shoulder at something. There was the sound of a blow torch turning on and your face was forced to look in the direction he'd been looking in.

"A nice red hot poker for the pretty skin of yours, I'm sure Chan will love you all marked up." You tried to kick your legs at him, but you were tied down to the chair, so it wasn't as if you could go anywhere or do anything to him.

"Talk or I start burning." You stared at him, holding your ground. He'd done nothing but ask you questions about Chan since the moment he got you there, he wanted you alive so you knew you were safe for now. You hadn't slept or eaten anything for god knows how long and you didn't even know if Chan was going to come looking for you. Your mind just kept going back to the night before when he left you there, alone, and abandoned without protection. He'd promised to look after you.

"I can give you whatever he was giving you, money, power, anything. Name it and it'll all be yours...He's not going to come back for you sweetie." His voice was strapped with a condescending tone, so you spat more blood on the floor beside his foot. Sharp pain rushed across your cheek as he slapped you across the face with the back of his hand, cutting it with a ring he had on.

"He's not going to come back," Your face was once again in his hands as he forced you to look at him,

"He left you there," Another slap across your face, knocking your head limply from side to side,

"He let me find you," Another slap on the other side of your cheek, you coughed up some blood you'd swallowed and he grabbed your cheeks once again. A sharp pain ran through you as he gripped each cheek where he had been slapping with his ring covered fingers,

"One last chance before I go hard on you, where is he?" You stared into his eyes before looking down at the floor, not wanting to give up anything on Chan. He'd already been through so much with Namjoon killing his wife, you weren't about to make him lose everything he'd worked towards.

"Oh I get it," Namjoon started laughing loudly and he dropped your face as he knelt down in front of you. You avoided his eyes as he started laughing even harder,

"You've fallen in love with the monster. Oh little dove," He kept laughing and sniggering as he stared at you, all of his men laughing along with him as they stared at you,

"Can you believe it guys? The little one has Stockholm syndrome." You hissed at him as he ran his thumb along your bottom lip where he'd busted it open,

"He's a monster darling-"

"HE IS NOT!" You screamed at him, lunging so hard that the chair fell forward catching Namjoon in the leg.

"Bitch!" He cried out, slapping you across the face once again only this time everything snapped into black.

"I said find her and I meant it," Chan growled as he stared down at his desk, he had countless photographs of you and him together. All of them taken from the night before when you had been on your date. Including some when he was making love to you in the gardens.

"We're trying but it's hard, she tried to get back here last night but from the tracks on the road it looks like someone-"

"Not someone! Namjoon! Namjoon got her and I want her found now!" His fist slammed against the desk so hard it knocked over the drink he had on his desk, he didn't care that it was spilling onto the floor. He didn't care that he hadn't slept in a day all he cared about was trying to find you before something bad happened.

Why did he have to leave you there?! He should have just stayed there with you and let you say what you wanted to say instead of running away scared, he should have stuck to the plan with Changbin. The plan to take you out and show you off, make sure to grab the attention of Namjoon and have a public date right? He was just supposed to leave you there for an hour or so and come back to Namjoon being there with you, but after the words left your mouth he just ran.

"I think I have it," Changbin said as he walked into the room, Chan came out of his daydream to look at Changbin. His hair was pushed back and he hadn't changed from the suit he'd worn the night before, he'd be working harder than anyone else - besides Chan - since it had been his plan in the first place.

"Show me," He laid out floor plans of an old building Namjoon had bought under a fake name, and he'd been there that morning to get thermal images of the inside of the building.

"It's got to be her, look." He circled where a bunch of people seemed to be hiding in one spot, but it was far too obvious for it not to be some kind of trap set up by Namjoon. But right now all Chan cared about was getting you out of there before something could happen to you.

"Get your guns and get extra ammo if you want it, let's go."

"Chan I think we should-" Jisung tried to talk to him about coming up with some kind of plan,

"I said let's go! I'm not letting her go!" Jisung nodded, he knew that and he wasn't suggesting that he was suggesting going in with a plan instead of just running in without some kind of plan.

"You're going to tell me everything I need to know." Your hands were chained above your head on a hook as you were being knelt on the floor. Your knees were cut up as they dragged along the harsh flooring that was inside there.

"I'm not going to tell you anything," You repeated, looking at Namjoon who groaned, rolling his eyes at you. He wiggled the chains to make sure they were secure and that you couldn't get out of them.

"You're going to have to talk at some point, he's not going to come back so you might as well talk to me now." You stayed silent and he sighed, dropping to his knees and squatting onto the floor in front of you,

"I'm going to tell you what I did to his pretty little wife, all of those beautiful details he probably left out," He said as he picked out his gun and cocked it back - you'd seen him loading it less than 20 minutes ago so you knew it was real,

"You're going to be a good little girl and listen to me," He placed the gun on your temple to make sure you knew he was serious about this. You looked at him, giving away no sign that you were terrified of him even though on the inside you were crying and screaming to get away from him.

"He went away on some trip and she was home alone, we broke in and we took her just like I took you last night." You swallowed the lump that was starting to form and you nodded along to what he was saying, not wanting him to shoot you, he was clearly unstable.

"We took her to my place where I chained her up just like this." He uncocked the gun and put it down out of your reach, before he took out a blade from his jeans.

"Then, when she didn't give me what I wanted we tortured her for a week until he came home and then we left her on the floor for him to find," He started laughing loudly, you felt your eyes well up at the thought of Chan walking in and finding his wife on the floor like that,

"Gutted her like a fish and left her on the carpet, you should have seen the look on his face when he found her. That was before he moved of course, so we're going to have to find somewhere to put you where he can find you." You threw yourself at him, but the hook of the crane you were being held on yanked you backwards, scraping your legs across the floor creating burns on your knees and shins from the dress.

"Ooo angry, I love it. You must really love him huh? To get angry at me for something I did to his wife?" The blade was being held against your neck with the blade just touching your skin, barely cutting it but just enough to draw some blood.

"Don't think for one second that I wouldn't do this to you, because I will darling, I just want a little something from you first." He threw you forwards onto your knees again, before one of his men came up and tried to play a gag into your mouth. You were making it difficult by moving your head and biting them whenever they got to close.

"They're on their way sir," Your eyes widen as you realised that Chan was on his way, and this was all some kind plan to get him in here so Namjoon could kill him.

"I'll give you whatever it is you want just don't hurt him, please." You begged, looking at Namjoon willing to do anything to save Chan from any harm. But it was too late, the gag was placed into your mouth to stop you from talking and you whimpered, watching him get into his car and tell everyone to leave except for one of the men, Jungkook. The boy nodded, looking at you as Namjoon got into his car and pulled out of the warehouse. Jungkook pulled out his gun getting it ready for any kind of fight Chan might put up.

"He doesn't mean it, he's just-" You stared at Jungkook to stop him from speaking bullshit about his boss. Namjoon and his men had all driven off an hour ago, your arms were numb from the restraints. All you wanted to do was go home to Chan and sleep everything away like it was some kind of bad dream.

"You're sure she's here? We've been here for an hour!" Chan's voice yelled out as he walked through the halls of the giant warehouse to find you. The place had been like a maze to get into but there was one clear exit at the back. You looked at the door as you heard hushed tones. Jungkook's hand was on his gun and you started screaming under the gag to try and make sure they could hear you, trying to warn them that you weren't alone. None of this made any sense though since your voice was muffled. Namjoon knew that Chan would bring all seven of his men, so why would he then leave only one behind? It had to be some kind of trap set up to get Chan.

"Y/N!" Chan breathed seeing you knelt there. There was a quick shot and Jungkook was down on the floor bleeding from his shoulder, while Seungmin and Felix went to chain him up. You began crying heavily as Chan rushed over to you and lowered you down from the hook, your chained hands fell around his neck as you cried into him.

"They left an hour ago, you have to get out of here it's a trap." You sobbed to him and he started chuckling as he picked you up from the floor.

"A trap is what we were hoping for, get him in the car." You frowned as he began hurrying you out of the building and towards the cars that they'd come in,

"Y/n you're driving, I need to get some answers out of this one." All of the cars were identical with identical number plates, which meant he was trying to confuse Namjoon and the other boys.

"Changbin, you head east, Jisung and Minho I want you in the North, boys just drive around where they can see you but in opposite directions." They all got into their cars and Chan undid the ropes from around your wrist before handing you the keys.

You'd been driving for an hour in a circle, you had no idea where you were going, you just kept driving as Chan told you to. By the time you'd circled around again Jungkook had a bloody nose - you were pretty sure it was broken and his lip was burst in several places making it look like one big bloody mess just like your face.

"C-Chan maybe that's enough-"

"Enough?! They took you! Where did Namjoon go?!" He snapped punching Jungkook in the gut, he wasn't angry with you, he was mad at himself for going along with the plan. You flinched looking up at the road again, instead of in the mirror at Chan in the back of the car. You knew why he was doing this but it didn't make it any easier for you to watch it happen.

"C-Chan?" You stuttered, seeing headlights coming straight towards you. They were driving on your side of the road at a fast pace, so whoever it was clearly wasn't planning on moving any time soon.

"Seatbelt." You warned him, as you shifted into sixth gear and pushed your foot down onto the floor. He scrambled to put his seatbelt on, watching through the window in horror as you headed straight for the headlights before swerving at the last second drifting slightly. Your backend clipping into their car, spinning them out to the side of the road and so you began turning the car around to face them again. You slammed on the handbrake and brakes to stop yourselves from rolling into the ditch at the side of the road and Jungkook was out cold in the back from hitting his head so much.

"Where did you learn to do that?" Chan asked, watching as you slipped it back into gear and started revving the engine.

"I like the fast and furious movies," Never in a million years did you think it would ever work but everything was worth a shot. Looking at the car you realised it began to head towards you again so you panicked telling Chan who it was,

"It's Namjoon, or one of his men we have to get out of here Chan." The car in front of you began revving so much that exhaust was pouring out of the back of the car.

"Drive back to the warehouse, I'll text the guys." You slammed the car into reverse and began driving backwards instead of heading right up to their car. Having no idea what Chan's plan was, you followed his orders getting back onto the main road and driving normally.

"Give it up." Jungkook mumbled drooling blood down onto the floor behind your seat. He'd woken up about twenty minutes into your drive and began telling you how dumb this plan was, that you wouldn't get away from Namjoon. You pushed the brakes when you saw Namjoon standing in the doorway to the warehouse from before, the four cars that had begun tailing you blocked you at every exit point. You shut off the engine, throwing the keys onto the floor to give yourself an easy give up to him.

"Y/n-" You didn't let Chan finish talking, you just got out of the car and put your hands up.

"What do you want Chan so badly for?"

"I just want everything that he's got, the money, the house, the girl, he doesn't deserve it." You walked closer to Namjoon with your hands behind your head. What had Chan ever done to this guy to make him hate him so much? You only knew about property takings and drug deals but nothing warranted killing his wife.

"If you get it will you leave him alone?" He shrugged his shoulders,

"Possibly." You needed a definite answer before you gave yourself away to save Chan. You needed him to be safe. Even if he didn't love you back, you still loved him and you do what you can to protect the ones you love.

"I want your word." You demanded and Namjoon held his hand on his heart while holding up the other in the air.

"I promise I won't harm a single hair on his head if you come with me." You looked down at the ground before over your shoulder at Chan. Who was begging you not to leave him as he got out of the car, several guns being aimed at him as soon as he did.

"Then let him leave." Namjoon nodded his head, all six of his men stood down and Chan rushed to your side holding onto your hand. He was begging you not to do it in silence, looking into your eyes, he'd only just gotten you back he couldn't lose you now.

"It saves you, just leave okay? I'm out of your hair now, I'm gone. You don't have to worry about last night or anything, I'll be fine." He cupped your face in his hands, looking deep into your eyes trying to search for any sign that you wanted him to rescue you, but your eyes were dead. It was like someone had shut off the light behind them and you weren't you anymore, not the one he'd fallen for anyway, but you had to be this way. You had to come across as cold to be able to let him go so he could be safe.

"Y/n, come on now dear." Namjoon purred, and you sniffled looking into Chan's eyes and mouthing goodbye as you walked over to Namjoon.

Everything happened far too quickly, you and Namjoon had been walking towards the warehouse where his car was waiting. When gunshots began to sound, being fired in every direction, Namjoon was on the floor next to you bleeding out from his leg as whoever got him shot him close to one of the main arteries. He began whimpering and coughing up blood onto the floor beside him so you moved away,

"Y/N GET DOWN!" You dropped to the floor upon hearing Chan's voice in a panic, he was freaking out after he heard the shots being fired. Changbin and the rest of the boys all came to find you once they never got a call from Chan to signal an all clear, you scrambled to hide behind something that was in the warehouse and Chan lost you in the fight. Guns were firing too quickly for you to even hear anything that was being yelled.

"Changbin?" You questioned, as he came over to you to make sure you were okay. He shot off directly behind you, causing a body landing next to your feet, you tried not to scream as you saw Jungkook on the floor dead. Changbin looked at you and smiled sadly as he realised you were scared.

"Sorry for leaving you there-" He shot off again and you screamed holding your hands over your ears, the guns being too loud for you.

"Y/n?!" Chan sounded panicked, but you stood up once the shooting stopped. The only thing filling the air was the sound of whimpering, he smiled at you rushing to your side. Everyone that had been working for Namjoon was on the floor either dead or in serious need of some medical attention,

"You okay? I heard you scream." His hands were turning your head from side to side to look at the marks Namjoon had left you with earlier. You shook your head promising him that you were fine and that Changbin had just scared you by shooting someone from behind you.

"Are you okay?!" You asked, looking at him as he cupped your face in his hands, he bent down to kiss you when another shot rang out through the air. The room seemed to fall into a deathly silence as Chan sank down to the floor knees first as he dropped his gun,

"C-Chan?!" You panicked, kneeling down beside him his white shirt was covered in blood as the bullet had ripped through his body and came out of the other side. It had hit his kidney and something else causing him to bleed out profusely.

"CHANGBIN!!" You shrieked at him to come over to you, you had no idea what to do but he was the closest one to you and he had just shot the person who had shot Chan. Your hands were pressing down on the bullet wound Chan had, Jisung rushed over to you, pushing your hands down on him as well. Applying pressure to a wound was the best option, but blood was sputtering out between your fingers.

"I know it hurts but we have to keep-" You tried to tell him it would be fine as long as you kept the pressure on it.

"It's not hurting Y/n." Even as he was dying he wasn't whimpering or crying, he just accepted that this was happening.

"J-Jisung what's happening?" You whimpered when the blood kept pouring out, it must have hit the main artery for it to be bleeding this badly and this quickly just like Namjoon on the floor.

"Get an ambulance!" You screamed at Jeongin, who was now hovering above his leader who was struggling to breathe now. Jisung kept the pressure on Chan as Chan weakly took your hands into his and stared at you.

"It's okay to love me you know, please love me." Your eyes teared up as he begged you to love him, as if you weren't already madly in love with him.

"I do love you Chan, which is why you have to stay with me, come on. CHANGBIN! AMBULANCE!" You screamed, but Chan's hand on yours tightened as he tried to get your attention back on him/ He wanted you to focus on just him, he stared into your eyes as you began to sob heavily.

"Don't cry, hey. You're way too pretty to be crying." You sniffled as he reached his hand up shakily and ran his thumb under your eye.

"I'm madly in love with you Chan okay, so you're not allowed to die on me." He choked on some of the blood that was coming up into his mouth as he tried to laugh about it, and blow it off as if this was nothing.

"I love you too." His eyes travelled off behind you and you saw the light leave his eyes. You shook your head trying to shake him to bring him back, Jisung moved his hands away so he wasn't applying pressure anymore.

"You have to keep the pressure on!" You yelled, holding down onto the wound as you tried to keep Chan alive. But Jisung pulled you away from his body, as you kicked your legs trying to get closer to him again, he struggled to keep you back.

"He's gone Y/n, he's gone." He whispered, moving you away as you screamed, wiggling around as you tried to run over to him. You were covered in his blood and watched in horror as Changbin covered his body up with a blazer, looking at Jisung shaking his head to declare that Chan was gone.

"Get her back to the house, get her cleaned up we'll take care of this." Minho walked over to Jisung and helped him to get you into the car, since you were still screaming with tears gushing down your cheeks. It was a struggle as you continued to try and free yourself out of their hands, yelling and crying about wanting to be with Chan instead of back at the house alone, you didn't want to go home without him.

"There's a problem," Changbin said as you sat in the office, you were staring down at the photographs of Chan as they all spoke about that night. You were still sitting there in the dress that was covered in his and your blood, they'd tried to get you to shower but you wouldn't move.

"Namjoon can't be found, we think he got away when Chan got shot." You frowned looking at him, you could remember Namjoon on the floor clear in your head. He was right next to you when he went down, he had to be dead or Chan would have died for nothing.

"I saw him on the floor." You whispered, looking up at Changbin who just shook his head.

"Not dead." He whispered, you let out a sob as you looked over at the door to see Minho and Jeongin walking into the room. You'd wanted it to be Chan but it wasn't, it was clear they'd both been crying though as they wiped their eyes.

"Everything will be ready for the funeral, just like he'd ordered." You looked at them and swallowed the lump in your throat.

"He had all of this stuff planned?" They nodded and you wiped your eyes on your hands when you saw the blood, it was starting to sink in now that he was gone.

"You should get some sleep," Changbin stated, coming over to you and helping you stand up from the giant chair. He walked you towards your room but you shook your head not wanting to be in there tonight or any night ever again.

"I want to sleep in his bed." You whimpered, walking to the door and opening it. The room was freezing and dark, so you flicked the switch on lightening up the room as you looked inside; everything was just how he'd left it that morning as if he was coming home any minute.

"I'll leave you to it." The door shut and you walked further inside going over to his en-suite to have a shower, you had to get out of the dress that was covered in his blood and wash everything off from that night. You stripped down, throwing it into a basket and stepped into the hot water. The floor of the shower turned red and you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat, as you realised it was Chan's blood more than your own.

You climbed into the bed after your shower, wearing one of his white work shirts and stared around the room, it felt empty without him being there next to you. The night before had been so peaceful even if it was when you rushed into the room scared of the storm, he was there which was what made it better than the cold dark room you were in now. You arranged the pillows so it would be as if he was there and you snuggled down into them and cried softly as you could smell him still on the sheets, at least you still had his smell for now.

Tagline: @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @moonprincessdiviniation (my wonderful editor who wants me dead) @calling-dips-on-j-hope @hugs4chan @ncitythoughts @inseonqt @cloudsgathering @atletino @mischiefmakerliesmith5 @freckledquokka @happygirl327 @seraplantery @km-98

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weighty-ghosts · 3 years ago

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‘Blame it on the Firewhisky’ (wolfstar)

Blame it on the Firewhisky, by weightyghosts

“Sirius makes a drunken mistake at a Hufflepuff party and has to find a way to convince Remus that he’s still completely devoted to him. Unfortunately, Sirius is also still very drunk and really just wants to go to sleep.

Aka Remus’ patience is stretched beyond its reasonable limits.

Aka Sirius is a bad doggie.”

Rating: teen

Word Count: 5408 (2 chapters)

Pairing: Remus x Sirius

Published on: February 22, 2021

Warnings: swearing, intoxication, alcohol consumption, infidelity, dub/con (I promise the two people kissing at the beginning of this fic are equally drunk and no one is being taken advantage of, it’s just a misunderstanding- however, if consent and alcohol makes you uncomfy, please skip from “at some point” to “er, I actually have a-”)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29596605/chapters/72748656

Sirius Black loved snogging. It was rather one of his favourite pastimes (just above tormenting Snivellus), and up until recently, four months and three weeks ago to be exact, he’d thought that snogging was as good as it could get. If he was involved in the snogging, it was bound to be brilliant because he was brilliant at snogging. Ask anyone.

What occurred four months and three weeks ago, was that Sirius discovered there was a way to make kissing even better, to make it a mind-blowing, body-shaking experience. All he had to do was kiss Remus Lupin. And Merlin, did Sirius fucking love kissing Remus Lupin. It quickly became his preferred way to spend his time.

Last week, during a thoroughly delicious snogging session, Sirius briefly considered placing one of his infamous Permanent Sticking Charms on their lips so they never had to part. But that would have impeded his other hobby: consuming firewhisky. (Also occasionally eating and shouting obscenities at his brother, but he could’ve sorted something out.)

The party this evening seemed to have an abundance of both Remus-kisses and firewhisky, and both in excess. It was a raucous affair, in celebration of Hufflepuff’s defeat of Ravenclaw in Quidditch, and boy do those Hufflepuffs know how to throw a party.

He couldn’t be sure how much firewhisky he’d ingested, but seeing as he could hardly stand up straight at the moment, it was safe to assume it had been a lot. There might have also been a butterbeer or two at some point. Or maybe Remus had drunk the butterbeer. Sirius could certainly taste it on his lips now.

His mind swam back into consciousness and he realized there was something hard and uncomfortable pushing into his back. There was also something hard pushing against his front, but it was more soft and pleasant.

His tongue was definitely in action, and he should probably do something with his hands (Remus did enjoy a good bum squeeze during times like these), but it was entirely too much effort to move his arms from their resting place on his boyfriend’s shoulders.

Remus didn’t seem to mind though, judging by the throaty noise he’d just made. It wasn’t a noise Sirius had heard before, but that’s alright. He also seemed to be producing more saliva than usual, but that’s alright too. There was a hand slipping under his shirt, and Sirius sighed happily, making Remus’s shoulders shake with giggles. Remus didn’t often giggle, but that’s alright.

He found a way for his brain to send signals to his limbs again, and slid his hands down Remus’ chest and abdomen, and around to his cute little bum.

“Bloody hell,” Remus whispered, though it didn’t sound like Remus, but that’s al-

Wait. That didn’t sound like Remus?

Sirius sluggishly opened his eyes (not a small feat), and looked up into the bleary, blinking brown eyes of someone that was definitely not his boyfriend. “Agh!” He exclaimed, pushing the person away from him, “The bloody hell’re you doing!”

The person, a bloke, a student, a Ravenclaw by the looks of him, stumbled backwards, tripped over a chair, and fell in what seemed like slow motion, landing on his bottom.

“Whaz’tha for, Black?” The Ravenclaw boy asked indignantly, though his outrage was severely undermined by how much he was slurring his words.

“You were kissing me!”

“You asked m’too!”

“I- what?” Asked him to? Sirius would never ask anyone to kiss him that wasn’t a honey-haired werewolf with a repressed biting kink.

“You dragged m’in here!” The boy said as he slowly stood up. He swayed heavily on his feet before stumbling sideways into a desk, which he managed to keep himself upright with. “Ow. I mean, I think y’did. Someone did the dragging in the...here.”

Ah, good. At least they were both completely shit-faced.

“Well y’shouldn’t snog dunk-drunk people,” Sirius declared, quite righteously, though he had a sneaking suspicion his outrage was also being undermined.

“Neither should you!” The other boy pointed out.

Sirius thought about this for a second, then decided he would rather be doing anything other than thinking. “Fair enough,” he replied pleasantly.

He straightened himself up, taking a deep breath to steady the alcohol he could feel dancing through his veins, and took a step away from the door he’d been leaning against (and the large brass doorknob that had been digging into his back). He walked towards the Ravenclaw, almost tripping over his own feet, and stuck his hand out to shake the boy’s, but missed wildly and jabbed him somewhere south of his ribs. “Whoopsy, sorry, mate.”

The boy waved him off and pushed away from the desk, moving quickly towards the door.

“Hey! I’m going tha’way!” Sirius yelled.

“’S’only one exit, Black.”

Sirius was fairly certain there were two, but he could have been seeing double and therefore didn’t trust his eyes. He nudged the other boy out of the way and opened the door, walking through and blinking into the sudden brightness of the torch-lit hall.

“Where the sweet Circe am I?” He mumbled to himself, not able to remember what part of the castle he was in or how he’d gotten there. Damn Hogwarts for having so many wings and hallways and walls that all look alike.

“Did y’know your hair smells like- like candy floss?” the Ravenclaw slurred, coming up from behind Sirius and leaning in to his side.

“Huh,” Sirius replied distractedly. He had no idea why that would be, and didn’t really care at the moment. Where even were his so-called best friends?

“Y’know what?” The boy asked.

“Mmh?” He tried to focus his eyes on any portraits or landmarks so he could figure out where he was. There seemed to be a fair number of students in the hall; it must not be past curfew yet. How pathetic. Blackout drunk before curfew.

He felt warm puffs of breath on his neck. Was that the painting of the fruit near the kitchens? Were they near the Hufflepuff common room? That rang a bell, didn’t it?

“We should do this again when we’re sober,” the boy said directly into Sirius’ right ear.

“Er, I actually have a- Moony!” Sirius called excitedly when he spotted his boyfriend, relief flooding through him at the sight. Moony will be able to tell him where he is.

Remus was standing very still after just emerging from a hidden door with a few other people Sirius didn’t bother looking at. Remus didn’t look very happy for some reason.

“A what?” The Ravenclaw mumbled questioningly into Sirius’ neck.

A muscle in Remus’ jaw twitched and it was like a switch had been flicked: he stormed over to Sirius, fists clenched, with an absolutely murderous look on his face. Sirius couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was when he wanted to kill someone, his eyes bright and deadly.

“What the fuck are you doing, Sirius?”

“Aw, why’re you grumpy, Moony?” Sirius pouted at his beautiful angry boyfriend.

“Ohh, ’s’this Moony?” The boy asked, lifting his head and circling a heavy arm around Sirius’ shoulders, “I thought y’said, ‘moon me,’ which I thought was a bit, y’know, aggressive since it was our first time snogging.”

Sirius giggled. He was definitely going to ask Remus to moon him later. He was about to tell Remus so, when he noticed the hurt look flash across his face, followed by stone cold fury.

“Snogging?” Remus asked in a deep, dangerous voice.

Sirius frowned at him, then turned to the Ravenclaw boy, having to lean back so their faces weren’t too close. He’d forgotten they’d been accidentally kissing. He looked back at Remus for an explanation for this strange turn of events. Remus was always able to explain things so very well with his smart words.

“I see,” Remus said, and Sirius swore he saw the wolf lurk behind his amber eyes; not the playful wolf who liked to romp around with Padfoot, but the wolf that would tear a human to shreds if given the chance. “Guess you don’t need me around, do you, Sirius?”

“Moony!” Sirius whined, attempting to push the other boy off of him. “It’s not like that! ’S’just a mistake!”

He wished he wasn’t so pissed so he could properly explain to Remus what had happened; he was sure Remus would laugh about it when he knew all the facts. He managed to prop the boy against the door of the classroom, and finally got a good look at him in the warm light. A small laugh escaped his lips.

“Look, Moony, Moons, look, you’re practically twins.”

This wasn’t strictly true. But the boy was tall and lanky, with similarly-coloured hair to Remus’. He whipped his head back to Remus with a grin on his face, the bun on top of his head wobbling carelessly, certain that Remus was about to start laughing with him. He did not.

“Sirius,” he said in that same low voice, “When have you ever known me to wear a fucking Ravenclaw Quidditch jersey?”

Sirius’ eyebrows knitted together in confusion and he looked back at the not-Remus-bloke. Sure enough, he was wearing a blue and bronze Quidditch jersey, an eagle prominently displayed.

“When’d you put tha’ on?” He demanded, suddenly very annoyed with this person he only now hazily recognized from one of his classes. Herbology maybe.

Remus huffed. “Don’t worry, Sirius, I’m sure you can offer to take it off for him. Don’t let me stop you.”

“Noo, Moony! I don’t want to take anything off, it’s-”

But Remus shoved Sirius aside and kept walking down the hall, not noticing, or not caring, that Sirius had tipped over and fallen into a statue of a badger. It gave Sirius a dirty stare for disturbing it, before returning to its regal position upon a boulder.

“Y’r boyfriend doesn’t seem very happy,” the boy stated, helping Sirius stand up, then helping him again when they both fell back over.

“No, I don’t s'ppose he is,” Sirius murmured, brushing off the boy and starting to walk away in the direction Remus went. At least, he was pretty sure it was this way. He called over his shoulder as he went, “Bye, Ravenclaw.”

“M’name’s Benjy!”

“Yeah, yeah, bye, Benny,” Sirius said, waving vaguely behind him and pushing through a group of Hufflepuff girls. His mind was whirling like the first time he tried to apparate, but he managed to focus on one thing: Moony. Moony thinks he cheated on him. His Moony thinks he cheated on him. His Moony is upset.

He has to find his Moony.

Read chapter 2 here!

#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #ficbyweightyghosts #angst and fluff #angst with a happy ending #happy ending #there's infidelity and tears but it's somehow also funny and fluffy?#just trust me #it's cute #marauders #marauders era #hogwarts

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

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Your Chaos Is Mine

Penguinz0 (Moistcr1tikal) aka Charlie x Reader(Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Charlie will never get used to the random cockroaches around his house. But what happens when he’s faced with one of these malicious creatures while playing Among Us with his friends and his girlfriend.

Requested by Anon. You know who you are 😋 Thank you for putting in a request. Sorry this is a short one. I just really wanted to make it short, sweet and hella chaotic! Hope you like it regardless😊

Playing Among Us with my boyfriend and his friends must be one of the only reasons why I have remained sane during quarantine. Between Charlie’s constant state of ‘the calm before the storm’ and my bug exterminating missions, it’s safe to say I miss the days when I could go to work and argue with my boss.

Speaking of Among Us, Charlie and I are playing the game right now with his streamer friend group. I’m the only non-streamer of the gang, but I’m apparently a fan favorite, as Charlie has told me.

“My fans love when you play, Y/N.“ He whines whenever I don’t really feel like playing. “Pretty please? Just this once.“

It’s never ‘just this once’ and that’s how I’ve found myself here - I have the hardest time telling Charlie ‘no’. Sure, he’s a man-child beyond rationality. He’s low-key insane when he wants to be. He can be a serious tornado to deal with from time to time. But he’s my man-child, my low-key psychopath, my tornado. His chaos is mine.

Well...I’m not a perfect, unproblematic angel either. So you can call us even.

Charlie and I play on complete opposite sides of the house. He’s downstairs in the living room and I’m upstairs in our shared bedroom just to prove we’re playing fair. It doesn’t matter how far apart we are, I can hear him laughing when he either dies or kills someone. I never know which so I can never accuse him directly.

I’m in the middle of doing the downloading task when suddenly an emergency meeting is called. I unmute my mic and see the megaphone symbol next to Charlie’s character.

“What’s happening?“ Sean asks as the rest of the gang also unmute themselves

“Hey babe?...“ Charlie starts a bit hesitantly.

I immediately get defensive, suspiciously raising an eyebrow even though I’m aware he can’t see me, “Yes?”

“There’s a cockroach here, please save me.“ His voice sounds panicked. Not mock fear, genuine panic.

I sigh, rolling my eyes. Just as I’m about to reply, Sean pipes in, “Wait, this is why you called this meeting?!”

“Um...yeah.“ my boyfriend confirms

Before anyone can ask more questions I speak up, “Let me grab deodorant and I’ll be over in a sec.”

“Wait, DEODORANT?“ Felix’s shock cracks me up.

“Oh, you don’t even know. I don’t just kill those pests.“ I laugh menacingly, “I torch ‘em.“

I take my headset off and stand up from my chair. I make a quick stop in the bathroom to collect the aforementioned deodorant before quickly going down the stairs. In the living room I find Charlie tensed and huddled up in his chair. He doesn’t give me indication that he has taken notice of my presence as his eyes are fixated on a black dot on the wall opposite him. The dot moves an inch to the right, causing him to shriek and push the chair further away from both the desk and the wall.

“I’m surprised you’re not halfway across the state by now.“ I make the remark through barely suppressed laughter. I bet the cockroach is just as terrified as he is, to be perfectly honest.

A flick of my lighter and a spray of the deodorant later the cockroach has officially left this earth.

“May its soul rest in peace.“ I mumble as I pick its dead body with a tissue. I go out the back door to throw the evidence of my murder in the outdoor trash bin.

When I get back upstairs and get settled again, I find my avatar still surprisingly alive.

I waste no time hitting the Emergency Meeting button.

“Charlie’s an impostor, vote him out.“

“DAMN IT, Y/N!”

“SPEEEDRUUUNN!!!”

#moistcr1tikal #penguinz0 #charlie #charlie xavier #moistcritical #among us #greaseball #grease ball #x reader #reader #fanfic #fanfiction #moistcr1tikal fanfic #requests #requests open #x y/n #reader insert #y/n

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vannahfanfics · 3 years ago

Text

Unpredictable

Category: Drama

Fandom: FullMetal Alchemist

Characters: Envy

Hey, everyone! I’m happy to finally present the piece I wrote for the @devilsplaygroundzine, which centers on Envy!

The flickering orange tongues of the crackling fire several yards away reflected in Envy’s eyes as he crouched in the dirty, dank alleyway. It was one of the many neglected nooks and crannies that abounded the Ishvalan slum encroaching upon the outer rim of Central City. It truly was a miserable place, Envy decided quite early on in strolling around; nothing but ramshackle hovels and ash-choked firepits and rank outhouses.

It was also the perfect domicile to have himself a bit of fun. Lounging around in those stinking sewers torturing the chimeras had grown quite dull. Thus, there Envy was, hunching down in the darkness opposite a small hovel watching as the Ishvalan refugees obliviously went about their business. It was a family, parents with a daughter who could be no older than five. They kneeled beside the fire, above which several sticks of freshly-caught trout were just nearly roasted; their hands pressed together while their heads bent in prayer. Envy sneered at the notion. So stubbornly, they clung to their God, which had allowed them to be massacred like sheep among wolves. I suppose they have to believe in something, lest they fall into despair.

That’s what Envy found so infuriating about humans, their unyielding tenacity and nauseating bonds. It’d be so much easier if they just wallowed in self-pity and defeat. The Homunculi pitted them against one another, and then suddenly, they’re preaching forgiveness and empathy. Envy’s teeth dug into his bottom lip as the image of a certain blond-haired, golden-eyed, loud-mouthed twerp who so embodied those ideals materialized in the gloom. Go away, FullMetal brat, he growled silently and waved a hand to banish the phantasm. It dissolved into dust, joining the thin coating on everything in the miserable slum.

Forgiveness and empathy could only last so long, however, until indomitable rage consumed them. Sneering roguishly, Envy crawled on all fours towards the humble little family, while his body morphed into the likeness of an Amestrian soldier. I’ll destroy it, he swore. I’ll destroy the hope and togetherness you covet so much!

“Good evening.” Envy froze mid-step when the Ishvalan man suddenly addressed him. It wasn’t right. Why was the monk not cowering in fear? The Ishvalan’s hands calmly rested upon his lap, and his white eyebrows curved slightly from the welcoming smile adorning his face. Still half-cloaked in shadow, Envy’s false blue eyes were wider than the full moon shining above. The mother had not even moved to protect her child. She ignored Envy and poked at the embers to send the dying fire gushing up once more. The flames licked greedily at the underbellies of the fish, charring the flesh. One, two, three… four, he counted blankly, though he knew not why. It wasn’t right, not at all. Where was the fear? The hate? The despair?

Why the hell were they smiling so contentedly, dammit?

“You must be tired from your patrol,” the man continued. Envy’s wits trickled back through the dam that had blocked the river of his mind. Patrol, yes. He was wearing the skin of an Amestrian soldier. It would make sense that he was patrolling the slum. Envy’s gold eyebrows quirked when the monk gestured to one of the cooking trout. “Please, we have one to spare. Help yourself.”

Envy was utterly flabbergasted. I don’t understand. I don’t understand. Ishvalans should hate Amestrians, especially the soldiers that mercilessly murdered their people by the thousands. Envy remembered it so well, corralling them to mow them down with machine guns, driving bayonets into long-dead bodies, children and mothers and even hardy men wailing in terror. This man should be slamming him up against the dirty brick wall, driving a fist into his jaw while the mother screamed and held her crying child. Yet, he was… inviting Envy to eat with them? He didn’t understand it, none of it.

Especially the fact that he wanted to agree.

Envy regarded the man suspiciously. Perhaps it was a trap. Yes, that’s what it could be; lure him in a false sense of security so his fellows could strike at Envy from behind. What a fun alternative. They could stick his back with so many daggers that he looked like a blood-soaked porcupine; it didn’t matter. Envy wouldn’t die. He found himself grinning at the bloody slaughter that would follow. Sure, old man, he cooed in his demented mind. I’ll play your game.

Envy smoothed the creases of the fake uniform before strolling over to the fire. The little girl’s red eyes bored into him as he knelt before the flames. Envy plucked the charred trout from the sand and scrutinized it. The scent of smoke and salt and even a few seasonings wafted up his nose, and despite himself, his mouth watered. One would think with their status, the Homunculi would eat well, but only Pride and Wrath had that honor. The rest of them had to go scrounging around like common urchins. Envy felt a little silly for salivating so excessively over some smoked trout, but his growling stomach soon overrode any prideful inhibitions.

“Thanks, old man,” he grunted before tearing his teeth into the succulent flesh. His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head when the flavor exploded over his tongue. A hell of a lot better than the plain slop he stole on the daily around Central. Within seconds he was ravenously shredding into the fish. He paused, juice and bits of scale and meat dripping from his chin, as the Ishvalan laughed heartily.

“I knew you had to be hungry. A soldier’s duty is a demanding one.”

“Oh yeah?” Envy asked, eyebrow creeping up his forehead. He wasn’t quite sure where the monk was guiding the conversation. His ears pricked, listening for the sound of shuffling in the surrounding darkness, but he could not discern the presence of a potential surprise attack. The man’s kind face revealed no hostile intent. Envy finished off the fish and tossed the white bones into the fire, then began picking his teeth with the skewer. “Old man, I don’t get it.”

“Get what, young man?”

“Don’t you hate Amestrians?” A confused look passed over his face. For the first time, the woman stiffened and reached over to grasp her daughter’s hand. Envy watched, internally squirming with glee, as the man’s brown face sagged into sadness. Yes. Get sad. Then hate me. Then try to kill me, you foolish, predictable little human.

“No,” he contradicted, and Envy’s mouth fell agape. “I do not hate Amestrians.” Envy thought that surely, he must be lying, but it was hard to believe that when the older adult flashed him a soft, genuine smile. He did not care to elaborate, either; he just took his fish from the fire and calmly consumed it. Envy stared down into the orange flames. He had seen so many of them in his lifetime, gigantic white-hot flames that destroyed everything in their path - homes, crops, people - indiscriminately. Envy’s eye twitched as he struggled to comprehend the human monk.

I don’t understand. How can humans just so easily extend their hands and say, “it’s all right?”

Envy turned his head at the distant sound of screams and wails, rapidly growing closer. The end of the street was glowing auburn, just like the fire casting light upon his pale face. Little golden lights began to bob amongst the gloom, their ovoid forms growing with each passing second. From the darkness came frightened Ishvalans, tripping over their sandaled feet in a terrified effort to escape what was approaching. One of them, a twenty-something, stumbled and landed in the dirt on his belly behind Envy. The Homunculus stared disinterestedly at his hyperventilating form, while the monk scurried to his side. “What is it? What’s happening?”

“Amestrians!” the boy gasped. Envy’s mouth twitched into a sneer, which he hid in his palm. “An entire mob stormed across the river to the west with torches and weapons,” he sobbed and covered his head when a building a few houses down exploded. Scorching wood and glass bits rained down upon them. A few of the sharp objects sliced into Envy’s skin; the Ishvalans were too busy panicking to notice the small red lightning that skittered over his healing flesh.

“They must be angry about the fishing party earlier today,” the mother whimpered and hugged her daughter into her bosom. The little girl’s red irises swam in a sea of white. Envy stared thoughtfully at the skewer, then flipped it in his hand to brandish the pointy end. The monk had just finished bustling the man to his feet when he turned to Envy, who was languidly rising.

“You must leave. A single soldier cannot quell this hateful mob alone.”

“And what? You think a pacifying monk can?” Envy leered. The man winced; Envy had hit the nail of his intentions on the head. The next building erupted into flames, sending the shriek of hot wind and agonized screams into the air. Envy could leave, if he wanted to, and watch the slum burn from the tops of Central Command. He stared thoughtfully at the pointed wooden stick in his hand.

I don’t understand it, he thought once more with a small sigh. I really don’t, these humans and their kindness. However, he grinned seditiously, and his skin began to morph, the visage of the Amestrian soldier falling away to reveal his skinny and long-haired self. I understand the Amestrian’s hate perfectly fine. The family was finally cowering in the entrance of their little hut, which was no more than some cloth draped over some stacked boxes.

“Mister,” the little girl squeaked. She jumped when he turned his eyes on her. “What are you?”

“Oh, me?” he grinned and dramatically placed a hand over his chest. “I’m a monster.”

“What are you going to do?” the monk asked him with narrowed eyes. Envy shrugged and began strolling off toward the fiery carnage. The Ishavalans were attempting to throw pails of water onto the burning houses. Within seconds the angry mob of Amestrians cornered them and began beating them with sticks and fists. Envy sneered. So unpredictable yet so predictable. What a dichotomous breed. “What are you going to do?” the man yelled after him insistently, and Envy tossed a bored look over his shoulder.

“Me? Well, I’m going to do what monsters do best.”

It didn’t take long. Humans were just frail sacks of blood and meat. Still, a casual bloodbath was preferable to an actual challenge in this case. Constantly regenerating was exhausting and annoying. The Homunculus came strolling back to the little hovel, where the family still huddled inside shaking. His body still sparked to heal the bloody knife wounds he had incurred. Envy stopped in front of the shack and dropped the skewer in front of them. It was now dyed red and dripping with blood, just like his body. Their equally red eyes beheld it with a mixture of awe and horror.

“Thanks for the fish, old man,” Envy smirked and turned on his heel.

“Wait!”

Envy’s eyebrow raised as he looked over his shoulder. The little girl stumbled out, ignoring her parents hissing at her to get back into the tent. Envy’s eyebrow climbed higher when she offered him a little white weed flower. Her hands trembled as she crushed the green stem in her small fist. “Thank you for saving us.”

“Heh,” Envy grinned and took the flower from her. “Don’t thank me, squirt. I was just having some fun.” With that, he whirled on his heel and melted back into the darkness. Eventually, the slum fell behind him, replaced with dark woods. As Envy strolled along the path, he gazed thoughtfully down at the little flower, twirling it between his thumb and forefinger.

Humans, he frowned and tucked the flower behind his ear. So unpredictable… I hate them for that.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#envy #fullmetal alchemist #fma #fmab #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood

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sergeantsporks · 4 years ago

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Douxie Appreciation Week day 3: Camelot

“I’m not so sure that this is a good idea.”

Douxie grinned at his familiar. “Ah, c’mon, Arch, that’s the FUN of it!”

Archie pawed the edge of the bridge to Camelot. “We’ve gotten run out of a lot of villages, Douxie. What makes you think that a bigger village will be any better?”

“Nah, that’s the magic of the city. It’s too big to get run out of, you can just hide.” Douxie picked the cat up. “C’mon. It’s a new start.”

“A new start doing the same thing,” Archie muttered as Douxie passed through the gate. Douxie let his familiar down.

“Big city means plenty of opportunity to do something new. We don’t have to do the same thing here, Arch, we can do whatever we want!”

“Provided… we don’t… do any magic…”

Douxie followed Archie’s gaze to graffiti on the wall that read Magicians are murderers. No one seemed to be making any attempt to clean it up. He gulped. “So people don’t always like magic. That doesn’t mean it’s illegal, right? Right?”

“Who can say?”

Douxie tapped the shoulder of the nearest passerby. “Um—hi!”

The woman glared at him. “What do you want? I’m not giving you any money.”

“O-okay, but I just… had a question?”

She folded her arms. “Is this some kind of trick?”

“What? No! Look, I was just wondering if magic is illegal.”

“Unfortunately not yet, but it looks like it will be soon, thank Excalibur.” The woman turned around and smacked at the hands of a young boy who was trying to slip his hands into her pockets. “I knew it! You were just a distraction! I’m gonna—”

Before she could describe and/or carry out exactly what she planned to do to Douxie, he was gone, jumping a fence and disappearing down an alleyway. “Oh, yes,” Archie commented, “A great start we’re making.”

“That wasn’t exactly our fault.” Douxie crept back and peered over the fence. The woman was dragging the kid who’d tried to pickpocket her towards a knight, yelling angrily. The kid didn’t look like much of a thief—just hungry.

“No,” Archie said sharply.

Douxie wrinkled his nose at his familiar. “No what? I haven’t said anything!”

“No, but I know what you’re thinking. You’re about to go play hero.”

Douxie grinned. “Try and stop me.” He backed up and vaulted back over the fence, dashing up and grabbing the boy’s wrist, dragging him away before the woman or the knight could react. The boy stumbled after him, barely able to keep up on his short little legs.

“They’re going to catch us!”

“Not if we run fast enough!” Douxie replied with a grin, “C’mon!” He ducked through a crowded market area, feet pounding on cobblestones, the knight in hot pursuit. Two carts were blocking off a side street and he hit the ground in a slide, pulling the kid under with him. He bounced back up on the other side with a laugh of exhilaration as the knight shouted at the cart owner. He and the boy trotted away into a quieter area where they stopped, panting, Douxie still laughing breathlessly, his hands on his knees.

“Whew—haven’t done that… since the last time I got chased with pitchforks.”

“Why?” the boy wheezed, “Why would you save me? I almost got you in trouble!”

“I used to be you.” Douxie stretched as Archie finally caught up, hissing angrily at him. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

“Hopefully not,” Archie said disapprovingly, “I shouldn’t think you’d wish a life on the run on someone, Douxie.”

The boy yelped. “Your cat! It talks!”

“And flies, too,” Douxie chuckled. He clicked his fingers, and a torch lighting up the alleyway went dark. “Let’s call it our secret, okay?”

“Whoa,” the boy breathed, “Magic!”

“It’s not as bad as everyone thinks. What’s your name?”

“Lanval.”

“Right, well, Lanval, remember, magic isn’t good or bad. It’s the person who uses it that decides that.”

“And you’re good,” Lanval said confidently, “You saved me!”

Douxie dug around in his pockets. He was pretty sure… yeah. He pulled out a couple of coins, probably the last of what he’d made in the last village to chase them out about a month ago. “C’mon, bet you’re hungry. I am.”

Lanval stared hungrily at the coins. “Are you… sure?”

“Yeah. My treat.” They made their way back to the marketplace (thankfully devoid of angry women and knights) and Douxie bought a few tiny pie things. He tossed one to Archie, who snapped it out of the air, and a few to Lavan, who scarfed them down, looking around like someone might take his food. Douxie knew the feeling. He ate his own pies, his eyebrows shooting up. Those were good. Right. His new mission in life was to earn/con people out of as much money as possible so he could buy as many tiny meat pies as possible.

Lanval gave him big eyes. “Can I live with you?”

Douxie let out a startled laugh. “Yeah, you’re welcome to crash next to me in whatever alleyway I decide to take a nap in.”

Lanval’s brow furrowed. “How are you not rich if you have magic? Can’t you use magic to get what you want?”

Douxie stalled for words. “It… doesn’t work that way. Look, Lanval, Archie’s right. Life on the run constantly, stealing what you need to survive… it isn’t the life I would have chosen if I’d had a choice.”

“It’s not like I have a choice, either!” Lanval said defensively, “I don’t have anyone to take care of me!”

“So take care of yourself. Find something you’re good at—and I think we can both agree that you’re not very good at stealing—and find a way to make it a way to survive.” Douxie glanced at Archie. “A long time ago, someone a lot smarter than me tried to tell me that. I didn’t listen. Here I am, planning on sleeping in a gutter somewhere. Maybe if I’d listened, I wouldn’t be in that situation. So, seriously. Find something else to do.”

“If you’d listened, you wouldn’t have been here to save me,” Lanval said simply, “So, thanks for ignoring them. But okay. Thanks for the food, and for saving me.”

Lanval ran off, and Archie wound around his legs, purring. “That was very mature of you.”

“You’re just pleased because I called you smart.”

“Maybe.”

Douxie stretched. “Well, today wasn’t so bad, was it? Made a new friend, didn’t get killed or imprisoned. Let’s find a nice gutter to sleep in.”

“I’ve got something better.” Archie stalked off, and Douxie followed him up a flight of stairs and on the ramparts. Archie padded across a plank that was laid across to a roof. A small shed/cover thing was set up on top, but there was nothing inside except for an old coil of rope.

“It’s perfect, Arch,” Douxie said with a grin, sitting down under the covering, “Look, we can see the sunset. And the stars, I’m sure, when they come out.”

Archie purred. “Who’s the best familiar?”

“Definitely you,” Douxie assured him. He sighed in contentment, watching the sun bathe Camelot red. “I like it here.”

Archie snuggled up next to him. “You know, I rather think I do, too.”

@moppetwithamanbun@einahpetsyarcip@ohfuzzbuckets

(Fun fact: Lanval is the name of a knight from one of the French spin-off Arthurian legends who married a faerie)

#toa #tales of arcadia #douxie #douxieappreciationweek

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mummybear · 5 years ago

Text

The Sinners

This Is Day 12 Of Roleplay May

Words: 3155

Warnings: Smut, Swearing, Rough Sex, Spanking Teasing, Blow Job Under A Desk, Sex On A Desk, Edging, Orgasm Control, Roleplay, So much dirty talk..... Think that’s it.

Characters: Priest Dean, Priest Sam, Nun Reader, Unnamed Priest, Friend Of John’s (George).

Parings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: The Winchesters and the reader are called to investigate murders at a church, but when Sam solves the case before Dean and the reader leave. What will they do? Now that they finally have a little alone time, will they take advantage of the situation?

This was some of the hardest and most strange acting you’d ever had to do since you’d started living with the Winchester brothers, maybe even since you’d first started hunting. But here you were, walking around this massive beautiful church, taking in every one of the locals who looked on respectfully.

Sam had quickly found out that this particular church had recently been remodelled, although if you would’ve shown up before checking, that would’ve been immediately obvious. Which is what had led the three of you to to easily conclude what had probably angered the spirit after such a long time.

You were dressed as one of the sisters, blending in surprisingly well, trying to remember everything you could from the film sister act, since that was the only form of reference you could call to mind. The brothers had sent you in a day ahead of them, they were due to turn up at any time now, joining as two new priests.

Turning the corner and you take another set of steps down, heading down to the dungeon where people were known to have seen the ghost. Dean was certain that the ghost was most likely to have been a bishop, who had died here in the late nineteen hundreds and whose body had been discovered in the basement. Things had become increasingly serious lately, ending up with two nuns and a priest being murdered in the basement, which is why the three of you had been called by an old contact of John’s, George, since he had known something was seriously wrong. He was someone who’d assured you that this wasn’t just some made up ghost sighting.

Your hand hovers over the iron blade, which is hidden just under your skirt, with the gun holster that you have fastened to your thigh. The door slams closed behind you and your heart starts beating wildly in your chest, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you carefully pull the knife free and you whirl on the closed door. But there’s nothing there, you can’t be sure but there’s every chance it’s the ghost. Adjusting your grip on the knife, you slowly walk a little further inside.

The musty smell hits your nose stronger the deeper that you go, holding your arm over your mouth and nose as you walk while keeping a tight grip on the blade. Then you reach the final chamber of the basement, proof that way back in the day this place had been a torture chamber of some kind. There were thick chains and shackles hanging from the walls, thick and dark blood still visible on the surface. There were also signs of blood on the floor still, from the bodies that had recently been found.

Beside you was a large sturdy table, with a few dusty books and piles of papers on top. There were a few old and broken windows on the floor, that were leaning against the wall. Your distraction is short lived, when you hear something that makes you stop in your tracks.

You hear heavy footsteps behind you, echoing off of the basement walls, causing that shiver to roll through your body all over again. When you turn this time your knife is poised to attack, however the person behind you is faster and catches your wrist in his hand and tuts.

“I think you need to work on your aim there, sister”

There’s no mistaking that voice, hearing it every morning you wake up and every night you go to sleep. Grabbing your knife from your hand, he flips it skilfully before handing the handle back to you and you can almost hear the smirk on those plump lips. His torch shines in your face so you have to squint a little, but the light quickly moves away shining on your body.

“Glad to see you could finally make it, father Winchester.” you smirk up at him, licking your lips when he leans in closer and your back hits the cold stone wall behind you.

He looks fucking amazing, you had no idea this was a kink of yours, not until Dean was stood in front of you dressed in it.

“I was doing a little research last night and I found out a very interesting little fact about the murders that have happened down here in the last month.” Dean reveals keeping his voice low.

“Oh yeah, what’s that then?” you ask quietly, feeling him press his body closer to your own.

“So get this, turns out the priests and nuns around have been getting a little too familiar. Sexually,” he grins wiggling his eyebrows, you can’t help but laugh at the massive dork in front of you.

You have your own idea of where this is going but you play along anyway.

“Really? Well I can’t say I blame them father.” you practically purr, slipping your hands inside his jacket, letting your fingers glide slowly down the thin black fabric covering his firm chest.

Dean’s smirk grows as he bites into his bottom lip, “Is something on your mind my child?” he asks with a slight change in his voice and his free hand not holding the torch gently grips your hip.

Licking your lips you nod slowly, looking up into those gorgeous green eyes.

“Yes, there is. All of last night I had some very impure thoughts about you. I may have even let my fingers wander.” you answer seductively, feeling his grip tighten as he growls your name in warning.

“Such a bad little girl. I thought we had this conversation last week, you don’t touch what’s mine, especially when I’m not there. Did you come?”

His question takes you by surprise, even though you probably should’ve expected it.

“Yeah, I did. Made sure I moaned your name though, just like I do every time, even if I did have to be really quiet about it.” You smile cheekily, knowing that you’re pushing all of the right buttons when he drops the torch on that large table beside you and his hand pushes under your skirt.

“You’re fuckin’ killin’ me here sweetheart, you wait until I get you home.” Dean groans, brushing his fingers over your wet but covered slit. You roll your hips against his hand as his lips just barely brush yours, “it’ll take a little more than a few hail Mary’s to save you here, safe to say you’ve earned your spanking today, don’t you think sister?”

“Whatever you think is best. You are the boss.”

“It’s a shame you didn’t think about that last night really sweetheart.”

Feeling his phone vibrating you slip your hand inside his jacket and pull out his phone from the pocket, unlocking his phone you smile, humming under your breath. You look back up at him and show him the message from Sam. “Looks like we have some free time baby, perhaps you should just punish me right now,”

Gripping your jaw roughly he presses a firm kiss to your lips, your hands fist in his jacket when he pushes your panties aside and two of his thick fingers slip inside your opening.

“I want you to meet me upstairs, in that empty office. But first, I’m gonna get you close and you're not gonna come, are you?”

“No father, I'll do whatever you want,” you gasp as he curls his fingers inside you and drags your bottom lip between his teeth.

He chuckles in the back of his throat releasing your lip, “of course you will my dirty little sinner. Maybe you’ll finally learn to do as you’re told.” Dean grunts when you move your hand over the bulge in the front of his pants. Kicking your feet apart. his fingers speed up and he adds a third, causing your begging whimpers to fill the echoing space around the pair of you, you cling to Dean tighter when the heel of his hand rubs perfectly against your clit.

Your chest is heaving and your blood is pumping hard in your ears, “Dean, please stop.” you whine desperately, feeling your pussy starting to clamp down around his insistent fingers.

“Pretty sure you can do better than that, can’t you sweetheart? I dare you. Give me even more reason to spank that ass red.” he growls as your head falls back against the wall, fighting every single part of you that’s desperate for release.

You cry out loudly when he finally removes his fingers and you slump against his chest, hearing the lewd sounds he makes sucking his fingers between his lips, licking and sucking your slick from the thick digits.

“You’re lucky you’re so fuckin’ sexy. Now, be a good girl and meet me upstairs and I might let you finish.”

You lean back against the wall to support yourself, when he finally releases you and grabs the torch, throwing you a quick wink he leaves the basement. Your head is spinning, only Dean had been able to wind you up this way. His voice always drove you almost as mad as those skilled fingers of his, not to mention his perfect thick cock which always had you begging him. You were nervous about doing this, but the excitement by far outweighed your nerves.

The minutes tick by and you regain your breath and readjust yourself, quickly exiting the basement. You slowly make your way towards the office Dean had told you about, smiling politely and nodding your head at the other sisters who pass you, doing your best not to show that you were rushing.

You see him sitting at the desk when you start making your way towards the room, he looks up as you walk in and you meet his eyes.

“Father, I heard you wanted to see me,” your voice is so innocent and quiet, Dean has to suppress the groan that’s threatening to leave his chest.

“Yes I did. Please, come in sister. Close the door behind you,” that filthy smirk on his lips is the polar opposite to how his voice sounds. Bowing your head you do as he asks and lock the door behind you. “Skirt up. Spread your legs and bend over my desk for your punishment.” he instructs you, keeping his tone even and his voice quiet.

You can’t help but smile, when you see the pile of stuff he’d quite clearly swept off of the desk as soon as he’d got inside the room. You watch him as you pull the skirt up your legs slowly, until you have to ease it over your ass and up around your waist. Seeing him stand from the chair and walk around the desk, you bend over the cold wood and spread your legs, hands gripping the other side when you feel his large warm hands smoothing over your ass cheeks.

“Forgive me father,” you whimper, hearing him groan behind you when he squeezes your ass cheeks roughly.

“Oh baby girl, this will help. How many do you think? Is ten enough?” he rasps voice much rougher than before, all you can do is moan into the table, feeling the arousal shooting straight to your core. “Answer me, you know the rules!” Dean demands, as a hard smack connects with your skin.

You manage to muffle the scream of surprise behind your hand, not missing the chuckle that it pulls from the man behind you. “S-Sorry father,” you whimper as your grip on the table tightens, “Whatever you say is right. I trust you,” you breathe out shakily, dropping your forehead onto the table as the second slap comes down just as hard on the other cheek, pulling a shaky moan from your already parted lips.

Dean quickly rips your thin panties from your body and tucks them into his back pocket.

You cry out against the wood, rolling your hips back into his hands, the next three slaps are against the same cheek, just as hard as the first. Your whimpering his name as his hand smoothes over the tender skin. You can feel yourself sweating against the table, stomach clenching and your pussy fluttering around nothing. He quickly evens out the slaps on your other cheek, three hard slaps coming down in quick succession on the other side. You have to stop yourself from clamping your legs together, when his fingers slip easily between your dripping folds.

“Such a good girl for me baby, look at that sexy ass. So fuckin’ pretty, all red for me baby.” he groans loudly. Your ass feels like it’s on fire in the best way possible, every nerve ending in your entire body is at attention. You’re so close already, with the way that he’s been edging you and you know he knows it. “You doin’ okay baby?” Dean asks gently, bending down to press his lips to your ass.

“So good, so good Dean” you whimper breathlessly.

Your entire body clenches and your eyes squeeze shut when he slaps your pussy, nowhere near as hard as the ones on your ass but it feels amazing nonetheless. Quickly followed by another sharp slap, which almost makes your legs collapse beneath you.

“You did so good baby, so fuckin’ perfect.” he praises you, pressing gentle kisses to your skin, his tongue running through your sensitive folds.

There’s a knock at the door as Dean helps you up from the desk and presses his lips to yours, “Under the desk, i promise we will finish up as soon as I get rid of them,”

Sighing you lower your dress and slip beneath his desk, whimpering when the heels of your feet press into your tender ass. Hearing the door unlock as you get as comfortable as possible.

Dean takes his seat at the desk, careful that when he pulls the chair in he doesn’t hurt you.

“Come in,” he calls just as you get an idea, sliding your hands up his thick thighs and you quickly unbuckle his belt as the door opens.

Dean’s legs fall open and his muscles tense when you unbutton his pants and pull down the zipper.

“Father Winchester, I’m sorry to interrupt. I was told you might know, I was just wondering if you’d seen sister Y/N, she seems to be missing,” the young priest asks nervously, as one of Dean’s hands slips beneath the desk and pushes into your hair.

You tug his pants and boxers down just enough to release his thick length, holding back the moan when you seal your lips around the head of his cock.

“As far as I’m aware she had to leave. Family emergency,” Dean explains quickly, biting his lip when you take him as deep as you can.

Dean’s fingers tighten in your hair when you start to bob your head over him, sliding easily up and down his length, enjoying the way that his free hand is clenched around the arm of the chair. “Oh, my apologies sir. Sorry for bothering you, I’ll leave you to your work.”

Dean realises that he suddenly doesn’t trust his voice, with a stiff nod of his head, he holds up his hand and the young man leaves.

The second the door closes, Dean pulls you up from the floor and presses a rough but chaste kiss to your lips, “Fuck I love you,” he groans standing from the chair.

“Love you too baby, we should do this more often,” you grin, pulling your skirt back up around your waist, loving the way he licks his lips watching every bit of new skin that’s revealed to him.

When Dean pushes you back, he lifts you, dropping your ass carefully onto the desk. Pulling you right to the edge, he lines his cock up with your entrance and slides right inside your wet heat. Your legs hook over his hips as you lean back on your hands.

“Just might have to take you up on that sweetheart,” he groans watching his cock slip inside you and back out with every slow thrust of his hips.

You throw your head back as your climax starts to build all over again, “Fuck, so close” you whine, as your lips part, “Have I been a good girl father?” you question behind your moan, as Dean slams back inside you.

“Oh you’ve been such a good girl for me sister, let it go when you're ready. Come all over my cock,” Dean growls, feeling your pussy clench around him, your whimpers slowly getting louder.

“Look at me,” he finally demands, as he picks up a more brutal pace and his hand presses over your mouth. You look at him breathing hard and fast behind his hand. Your entire body shivers, your eyes start rolling as your body aches and arches.

You scream his name behind his hand, sweat covering your clothed bodies. Your entire body shaking as you fall apart around him.

Dean pulls your shaking body against him and your arms wrap around his neck, your forehead drops against his shoulder, clinging to his back tightly. Dean pulls your legs higher, those strong fingers digging into your thighs and you know he’s getting close, hips are stuttering and his grip on you is unyielding.

“Fuck, you feel so good, my dirty girl. Gonna make me come.” Dean moans loudly against your shoulder, teeth dragging across your skin.

You press your lips to his ear, “You make me so wet Dean, come on baby do it, fill me up.” you pant breathlessly, as your knees dig into his ribs. Dean whimpers, his grip on your thighs tightening when he finally lets go and his orgasm hits him hard, his hips slow down.

Neither of you wanted to let go.

Then Dean’s phone starts ringing again. Finally Dean pulls his softening cock from inside you, a whimper falling past your lips as you sort out your clothes, already missing his touch.

“Sammy, calm down!” Dean laughs quietly, nodding although the younger man can’t see him, tucking his cock back in his pants, you help him do them up as he continues to talk. “Yeah, we’re on our way. Okay, yeah. We’ll see you soon,” Dean replies, before hanging up the phone.

“He’s panicking isn’t he?” you ask with a smile, your breathing finally returning to normal.

“Oh yeah, big time. I am the big brother right?” he chuckles, watching the way your smile only grows, “Filthy fucking mind, you have.” Dean grins, pulling you into a sweet kiss.

“Right, I’ve got the dirty mind father.” you smirk, sliding off the desk with a pained whimper. “You’ve got a lot of ass kissing to do when we get home Winchester, literally.” you warn him playfully, straightening his collar and brushing down his jacket.

“Oh with pleasure sweetheart, now let’s get out of here.” Dean winks, unlocking the door, with you following dutifully behind him.

Tags: @chewie-redbird @julzdec @lettersofwrittencollective @stiles-o-dylan24 @mogaruke @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @dylanholyhellobrien @desireepow-1986 @emichelle @lilulo-12 @22sarah08 @deanwanddamons @simsadventures @charmed-asylum @nicole-lynne @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @defenderrosetyler @emilyshurley @emoryhemsworth @foxyjwls007 @mylovelydame21 @sunshineandwings86 @peaches009 @captain-shannon-becker @heimdoodle @plushpyrate @winchester-wifey @fandom-princess-forevermore @flamencodiva @hobby27 @akshi8278 @littlelonewolfgirl @ladywinchester1967 @screechingartisancashbailiff @maddiepants @spnfanfic-reblogs @holylulusworld @mrswhozeewhatsis @sonofabringmesomepie @mrsjenniferwinchester @hhiggs @pisces-cutie @trina44sb @heartsaved @matsumama @adoptdontshoppets @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore

Pond Tags: @aprofoundbondwithdean @manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @nichelle-my-belle @notnaturalanahi @deanscarlett @roxy-davenport @impala-dreamer @samsgoddess @frenchybell @scorpiongirl1 @deandoesthingstome @deansleather @curliesallovertheplace @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @waywardjoy @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles @wevegotworktodo @quiddy-writes @babypieandwhiskey @supermoonpanda @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog @memariana91 @plaidstiel-wormstache @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester @becs-bunker @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @evilskank-inthemegacoven @maraisabellegrey-blog @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @bennyyh @clueless-gold @deanwinchesterxreader @winchester-family-business @there-must-be-a-lock @just-another-winchester @cas-backwards-tie @winecatsandpizza @firefly-in-darkness

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general-mahamatra · 4 years ago

Text

Népirtás

Focus: Tommy

Genre: Dark, war

TW: War, betrayal, blood, murder, major character death

Wordcount: 3054

Read it on AO3 here

Népirtás: Hungarian for genocide.

Genocide (n) the deliberate killing of a large group of people, especially those of a particular ethnic group or nation.

L’manberg wanted to be free. Justice, liberty. They wanted to secede from the SMP to become their own country--its own nation.

Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, Fundy… They just wanted to be separate.

It wasn’t supposed to go wrong.

Silence.

Not the most common thing at night.

There were no groans that echoed eerily off the trees, or the rattling of bones from wandering skeletons. Even the horrid hissing of spiders were nowhere to be heard as the night stood still.

Nothing reached the boy who stood atop the towering wall. Blissfully unaware--ignorant if you will. Standing there, arms perched on the railing as he leaned over the edge, a bored gaze resting on his features. His blue eyes trailed along the barren prairie, standing watch as he waited for the inevitable moment it all came crumbling down.

War.

That’s what it was.

With laws to determine fair play; rules to make sure people didn’t cheat. It was the worst thing to happen to the self-declared nation of L’manburg. After all, all they wanted was peace. They wanted to secede, to become their own country. They wanted to live in harmony with Dream’s SMP.

And yet Dream declared war.

Dawn, two days time.

Then they would attack.

And was the final night.

A gust of wind caught the boy off guard, tousling his blonde hair and snapping him back to reality. The glazed look to his eyes dissipated and he straightened out, suddenly more alert. The breeze nipped, cold against his exposed skin. Rustled his uniform a bit as he moved.

He wasn’t sure what time it was. Without a clock to tell the time, the boy was left to gaze up at the moon.

It glared down at him, bright and full as it illuminated the world, hovering just below its peak. The night was almost halfway over, which meant someone should be coming to take his place soon.

“Tommy!” A deep voice startled the boy, shattering the silence that settled around him. Turning, Tommy peered down from the wall, coming to find none other than Eret themself standing just below. Perfect timing. “Tommy, come down!”

Thankful to be relieved of his position, the boy obliged. "Yeah yeah, shut up already Eret!" he called back, beginning to make his way down the nearest ladder.

Once he needed the bottom, Tommy jumped from a couple rungs up, feet hitting the ground with a solid thud. Spinning around, he came face to face with the brunette. Looking up at them, he came to remember just how weird it was seeing them in sunglasses, especially when it was so dark out. They never had a reason to wear them and every single time Tommy asked, Eret waved it off.

Pussy.

Before Tommy could say anything, Eret was already talking. A bit peculiar considering how little they spoke the duration of the war.

"Wilbur's looking for a plan," they explained, nodding towards the van. "'S the final night. We need everyone inside now."

Tommy raised an eyebrow. "What. Y' don't trust yourselves to figure it out without me?" He grinned. "Comin' out to get the true brains of the operation?"

Eret deadpanned, clearly not amused. In fact, they looked rather anxious. "Just get inside, will ya?"

Sticking his tongue out, Tommy passed the brunette and headed towards the van. This late in the night felt like an odd time to hold a meeting. It was almost midnight, a time when everyone was typically asleep. Why they waited this long to hold the meeting was beyond him.

Entering the vehicle, Tommy moved to the back room and found himself standing in the empty space, three others across from him deep within a heated discussion.

Wilbur, Tubbo, and Fundy.

"We need a final plan!" Wilbur exclaimed, pointing to the ground. "There's gotta be something we can do."

Fundy rubbed his face, running his hands along his cheeks before glaring at Wilbur. With the way his ginger hair was frazzled and distressed, it was safe to assume the argument was going on for a while. "You're the leader! You're supposed to have the clutch plan!"

"Just because I'm the leader doesn't mean I have a plan," the curly haired man retorted. "It was your job to figure it out before tonight!"

"How the hell am I supposed to plan something when we're struggling to get food?" Fundy exclaimed. "You want us to work our asses off doing your job when we need to go out and get supplies! All you do is sit here and do nothing!"

"Fundy-"

"No!" The ginger was infuriated. "You're supposed to be leading us, yet here we are! In a fucking van arguing in front of a child when were about to be killed tomorrow morning!"

Tubbo, who had managed to back away unnoticed, paled when he was brought up. He didn't want to be part of the confrontation and his usual quiet demeanor wasn't helping. It left him vulnerable. Perfect to be used as defense.

Thank God Tommy and Eret had dropped in when they did.

Tommy went to speak, opening his mouth and even starting to announce their arrival when Wilbur spun to face them.

Offering a tired smile, Wilbur addressed them, successfully cutting Tommy off. "Eret, Tommy, glad you could make it."

Fundy turned as well, his gaze hovering on the two. His pupils were blown from the argument that just ensued but the fury faded out to pleading. "Please tell me one of you guys have something."

"Have what, a plan?" Tommy asked.

Fundy nodded.

His lips quirked up into a small smile. "'M the man with the plan, of course I have a plan!"

Wilbur muttered, "Not a man", but Tommy ignored him.

Relieved and excited, Fundy's eyes grew wide. "You do? What is it then?"

Tommy grinned, eyes glinting with mischief in the low candle light. "We go in the sewers and run."

If there was a record playing, it would scratch.

Everyone in the room stared at him, confused and shocked. Words were found lost at the sheer stupidity of the boy's suggestion.

"What? It's a good plan!" Tommy defended, voice cracking in the process. "We get out of here before dawn, they can't attack us! We'll be able to take 'em by surprise!"

Wilbur sighed and let his dull expression linger. They stood there, eyes locked in a sort of contest before the boy dropped his gaze. Once he did, Wilbur spoke. "We're not running from the fight, let alone following a plan a child came up with on the spot."

Offended, Tommy's head snapped back up, taken aback by Wilbur's words. "I'm not a child! And it's not running! We're just-"

"Escaping through the sewers to avoid Dream is running from a fight," Wilbur shot back. "That's not what we do."

"But-"

"No buts," the older man snapped. "This is war, Tommy, not some little game where you can run and hide and cheat."

“Tell that to Dream!” shouted Tommy, throwing his hands out. “All he has done is cheat and lie in every single battle!”

Fundy cut in. “And you don’t? All you do is cheat!”

The only thing that kept the boy from turning on Fundy was the hand on his shoulder. Glancing hack, he found Eret staring down at him, the other shaking their head. Then, with one swift motion, they pushed Tommy back and stepped forward.

Staring directly at Wilbur, they said, “I have something.” Despite the abrasive situation, Eret was calm. Their voice was even and assertive, driving home the importance of their words. “I’ve been grinding. Working in the mines for the past few nights. I have something we can use.” They glanced at Fundy. “A last hurrah if you will.”

Immediately, Wilbur appeared to calm down. His usual dignified demeanor returned as his face fell void of emotion. Except his eyes which gave way to his relief. “You really have something?”

The brunette nodded and gestured towards the door. “I have it stashed away, somewhere Dream and his dogs would never find it.”

Tubbo perked up, finally speaking for the first time since Tommy had arrived. “Actually? You really got a final plan? That’s incredible!”

From behind Eret, Tommy beamed. Excitement bubbled beneath his skin--made him itch to move. To run. To fight. His arms crossed and he tapped his fingers, the only way to fidget without the sword that was usually strapped to his side. He was ready.

And it seemed like everyone else was too.

"It's not too far from here." Eret smiled slightly. "I'm surprised none of you heard me mining." With that, they turned around, leading the way out of the van.

They were right, it really wasn't that far. A couple hundred feet and they stood at the base of a hill, grand oak trees scattered along the landscape. A cluster of bushes sat beneath a few of them--exactly where Eret was headed.

Pushing the fronds aside revealed a trap door. Wooden and rickety, it was clear it was a recent addition. Installed far too quick to be of any good use.

“Down there?” Wilbur craned his neck to see, peering over Eret’s shoulder.

Squatting down, they pulled the door open. Dust and dirt fell into the hole, passing the ladder that dropped the entire way down. Ten feet down, the faint glow of torches could be seen, barely reaching the boys who surrounded the opening.

Then something felt weird.

A chill ran along Tommy’s neck, making the boy shiver and frown slightly. The moment he looked down the hole, a voice seemed to materialize. Quiet, nagging, almost inaudible. Sitting in the back of his mind to prod at the barriers that kept it from being heard.

Something…

Plummeting, scrambling, and shrieking. That’s what followed.

A hard shove caught the boy off guard, throwing him forward. His feet slipped, traction on the grass nonexistent as he tried to gather himself.

And then the ground came out from under him.

The sound that came out of Tommy was mortifying. Shrill and girly, he drowned out the wailing laughter from above. Terror was all he could feel, panicking as he grabbed for the ladder.

Ten feet.

Or was it twenty?

It was so far down and it was coming so fast and he couldn’t grab the ladder and he kept falling and he couldn’t-

His hands wrapped around the wooden structure, jolting him to a stop. He was shaking, eyes wide and breath ragged as he wrapped around the ladder. Hanging for dear life, struggling to stay on the solid rungs. A tear slipped down his cheek as more pricked his eyes, slowly dripping down his face.

The cackling finally came into focus soon followed by a high voice.

"Tommy? You alright down there?" Tubbo called. "Did-"

"Didn't die, did you?" Wilbur added, easily drowning out the younger boy. "That's a pretty far fall."

Adjusting his grip, Tommy took a shaking breath. His white knuckles faded back to normal and he began to relax, the tension slowly dissipating. Wiping his eyes as fast as he could, he took another deep breath before looking up at the group with a large grin. "Nah. Not dyin' until after you, ya fuckin' grandpa."

Wilbur giggled and stepped out of view. Unable to see anyone but Tubbo, he could barely make out any of the voices aside from Fundy as he claimed he just wanted to see how deep it was.

In response, Tommy shouted, "You're a fucking asshole you stupid furry!"

It resulted with a twig getting dropped on his head.

Eret's voice cut in, easily addressing them all. "Alright, let's go. I've got a lot for you and we don't have much time left."

"You're right." Wilbur appeared again, this time nudging Tubbo out of the way. "Tommy go all the way down, we'll be right behind you."

So he did. He was only about halfway down, so it didn't take too long to reach the bottom. With his feet firmly planted on the floor, a calm reassurance passed over him, washing out the adrenaline from the fall.

A couple paces forward then Tommy waited.

The tunnel was narrow, barely wide enough to allow them to walk side by side. Despite the torches perched on the wall, it seemed like it went on forever. Stretching on and one and on…

Footsteps alerted Tommy the rest had joined him underground, so he stepped to the side. As much as he wanted to see what was going on, the voice told him to hang back. Keep his distance.

Be wary.

Letting the others go first, he took up the rear, casting a quick glance back at the ladder. The only way in and out.

"So, Eret," Fundy said. "You gotta missile down here?"

They chuckled, the reverberation from the tight space giving their voice a dark, creepy edge. "No I don't. I wish, though."

And down the tunnel they went. A short trek but one nonetheless. Most of the time it was quiet, the only sound was the tap of boots against stone. A rhythmic click as seconds ticked by.

It was when they came across the final room that Tommy's nerves grew. A dark enclosure lined with chests, lit by two soulfire lanterns. Meticulous and faultless. Set up with such care…

"Welcome, to the final control room." Eret announced.

The moment the boy passed into the room, his stomach dropped. Something was off, something was wrong. His skin itched, the feeling of eyes boring into him almost burning. Yet everywhere he looked, the room was sealed except the door. There were no cracks, no holes, no slits. Nothing for someone to be watching him.

But he ignored it. Brushed it to the side to act on the shock of what Ereg had done for them.

"Holy shit!" Tommy exclaimed, rushing for the chest with his name scrawled on the front. "This is so cool!"

Wilbur had the same idea, making a beeping for his own at the far end of the room. "Eret, how did you find time for this?"

Tommy flipped the latch and shoved the lid open, excitement growing and-

It was empty.

"Wilbur…" Fundy.

The faint click of redstone powering caught Tommy's attention. Frowning, he slowly lowered the lid and lifted his head.

Piston doors sprang to life and walls fell away.

The shrill scream of Tubbo was the first thing that registered in Tommy. The horrid, terrifying wail.

Spinning, he saw the boy pinned against the wall, kicking and screaming, trying to shove his assailant off. But it was to no avail.

Tommy had no time to react as he watched the man pull out a netherite sword and jam it into Tubbo's stomach. And he twisted it. Ripped it around the young boy's gut and held him in place, watching the child scream and cry.

Then he slit the boy's throat.

"Tubbo!" The horror in his voice… the way the cry ripped through his throat without a way to stop it…

The commotion around Tommy went unnoticed. The fighting fell away as his vision zeroed in on the man who murdered Tubbo. Thoughts were sporadic, if existent at all.

Being unarmed and defenseless didn't stop him.

The sight of the familiar white glasses that now stared back at him didn't stop him.

A raised sword and stoic expression didn't stop him.

It was the hand that grabbed his wrist, tugging him away from George that did.

Tommy yelled in frustration, attempting to yank his arm away. He wasn't going to be stopped. He wasn't going to be stopped from ripping George to shreds. Nothing would stop him.

Nothing.

He pulled free and charged, lunging onto the older man and toppling him to the ground. They rolled, Tommy's attempts to get at George's face falling flat as he got thrown into Tubbo's body.

It didn't even process at first.

Instead, he got to his feet, covered in the hot crimson liquid that continued to sleep from his friend. Dripped from his hands, soaked his uniform, smeared on his face.

"You bastard!" he cried, jabbing his finger at George. "You fucking bastard!"

The man's mouth quirked to a small smile.

"L'manberg was meant to lose."

He charged.

The hand once again grabbed Tommy, pulling him out of the way of George's blade. Tugged him to the door as he struggled to be free.

The person who grabbed him pulled him just enough so they could grab his shoulders. Held him tight, shook him to get his attention.

Wilbur.

"Tommy, I need you to run," he said. "I need you to get out of here, get as far as you can."

The blonde sputtered, shocked and furious. "Run? You want me to run? You're the one who said-"

"It's an ORDER, Tommy!" Wilbur shouted, shoving the boy into the tunnel. "Get out of here!"

Tommy stumbled back, eyes wide and full of terror. He watched, frozen as Wilbur continued yelling at him.

He couldn't hear it.

The red edge of a coated blade cut through Wilbur, sliding out within seconds. With it, fell the commander, crumbling to the ground and slamming his head against the stone.

Holding the sword was none other than the traitor themself; black sunglasses splattered with blood and a hollow grin plastered on their face.

Eret.

It took two steps from them to get Tommy to whip around and run. A dead sprint down the tunnel before jumping on the ladder. Pulling himself up--racing against the man only a few feet behind.

He could've stopped this. He could've and he almost did.

But they didn't listen.

They didn't listen to him, they called him a child. Told him his plan was horrible, that it was running.

And he listened.

If he had persisted, if he kept trying to get them to hide, they'd be alive. They'd be breathing and talking and laughing. They'd be alive.

Once on the surface, he spun, backing away from the hole as Eret climbed out. They towered over him, unsheathing his blade as he began to advance on the boy.

"You fucking bastard," Tommy snapped, holding his ground. "You fucking traitor! You turned on us, you used us! You fucking piece of shit you horrible excuse of-"

The sharp point of the sword against his chest made the boy fall silent and Eret leaned in.

"It was never meant to be."

Tommy's face twisted to a snarl as he shouted. "You TRAITOR, you-"

The blade rammed through his chest.

#dream team rpf #dream team #sleepy boys inc #rpf #prince's writing #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #tubbo #itsfundy #the eret #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #blood #murder #death #betrayal

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lynelovespopculture · 4 years ago

Text

THE CHILLING ADVENTURES OF ZELDA CHAPTER 19-SALEM FAUSTUS MUST RESCUE HIS DAUGHTER FROM WHERE NO WITCH SHOULD GO.

Zelda didn’t believe what she just heard. She walked across the room so she could read the text herself. She read it twice and still shook her head. “No, I don’t believe it. Our Cordelia just can’t be on her way to Salem. She just can’t be!”

Jake, who wasn’t exactly in the loop, gasped. “You can’t mean that Cordelia is on her way to Salem, that Salem, THE Salem?!”

“Apparently so,” Ambrose answered him.

Faustus, meanwhile, checked his watch and walked quickly to the front hall where everyone followed him.

“Where are you going, Uncle Faustus,” Ambrose called out.

“It’s 8:30 now and I know that the bus should have left at 5:30. Despite that 3-hour head start, I going to see if I can catch it before they reach Salem.”

“I’m going with you.” Zelda reached for her coat but Faustus stopped her.

“No, dearest.” Faustus shook his head. “I understand completely why you want to come along, but if worse comes to worst and I have to go all the way to Salem, I won’t be able to explain your presence. It’s my class on that trip. The only reason I’m not with them right now is that I told them I was sick.” Zelda looked upset and Faustus sought to comfort her with his next statement. “Our girl is very clever. She might get away and come home on her own so someone needs to be here.”

Zelda was still upset but managed to put on a brave face. “Faustus, your trip will go by faster if you don’t have to stop much. I could pack you some sandwiches if you want.”

“Excellent idea, my love.”

10 minutes later, the car was packed and Faustus was ready to go. Jake and Ambrose hung back to allow Zelda and Faustus a private goodbye.

“Do you have everything?” Zelda asked.

“I think so.”

“Call me as soon as you find Cordelia. I don’t care where you are.” Faustus nodded and Zelda sighed and threw her arms around her husband. “And for Hecate’s sake, Faustus,” Zelda whispered into his neck. “Please, please be careful. I simply wouldn’t know what I would do if anything ever happened to you or Cordelia.”

“Shhh, hush my love, the only thing that going to happen is mine and Cordelia’s safe return. Any other outcome is unacceptable.” He then kissed her goodbye. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Zelda returned “Bring home our girl.”

Faustus nodded, kissed her again before he got into the car, and drove off. Even before Faustus’s car drove out of sight, Zelda could feel Ambrose’s arm around her shoulders.

“Don’t worry, Aunt Z, if anyone up to this task, it’s uncle Faustus.”

“Absolutely,” Jake agreed. “They’ll be back before you know it.”

The 7-hour bus trip flew by. From the very back, Cordelia watched the other students filed off the bus. Cordelia took a deep breath and got up and tried to get off the bus. However, Mrs. Robinson blocked her.

“Not yet, Cordelia. They’re not ready for you.”

“Ready for me?”

Nina didn’t respond but when Cordelia was allowed to leave the bus, Nina was right by her side. Cordelia noticed that the rest of the class had formed a half-circle. Then, a tall, scary man dressed in a black robe walked out of the shadows and stopped right in front of Cordelia. “Is this the child, then?”

Nina nodded. “It is, your honor.”

Your honor? Cordelia looked from 1 adult to the other.

The man in black pointed at Cordelia. “Has she been charged yet?”

“No, your honor. We thought it best to get her down here and then charge her.”

Charge me? The horror finally dawned on Cordelia. This was no field trip, this was a witch trial. HER witch trial!

Meanwhile, the man in black continued. “What is the child’s name?”

“Cordelia Spellman.” Nina answered.

The man in black arched his eyebrow. “Really? SPELLman? And the name Cordelia hasn’t been in fashion for at least an century. It’s like she’s not even trying to hide it.” For the 1st time, the man in black spoke to Cordelia directly. “So, what do you say, girl? Do you deny it? Do you deny that you’re a witch?”

Cordelia stood tall. “Of course, I deny it. Everyone knows that witches don’t really exist.”

“Is that right, girlie? Let see if you say that after you see this!” He grabbed Cordelia roughly by the arm and guided her between 2 old houses.

“Hey!”

The man in black let go of Cordelia after giving her a little shove. Cordelia looked up and was in shock. There they were; all in a row, bound and gagged, all standing on barrels with nooses around their necks. Her entire family, Faustus, Zelda, Jake, LJ, Prudence, Ambrose, Sabrina, Hilda, and even Dr. C.

Without a 2nd thought, Cordelia turned to the man in black. “Okay, you got me. I am a witch. But I’m the only 1. My family didn’t even know, they’re completely innocent. Do whatever you want to me but let them go!”

“Bull!” The man in black declared. “Everyone knows that magic goes through the bloodline so if you're a witch, so is your family.”

“But I’m adopted!” Cordelia stressed. It was the 1st thing she could think of.

“Then why do you look exactly like your mother? You’re lying!” The man in black turned to the men behind the barrels. “Hang them!” He ordered.

“NO!” Cordelia screamed but the man in black held her as the barrels were kicked and the Spellmans were hanged.

“And as for you,” The man in black stared hatefully down at Cordelia. “You’re a witch by your own admission. Your punishment will be to burn at the stake.”

Cordelia didn’t, couldn’t say anything. Her entire family was just murdered for just being born witches. She choked back tears as she was tied to the stake.

“Daughter, would you like to do the honors?” The man in black asked.

“I would love to.”

Suddenly, Cordelia was face to face with Sara, who had a torch in her hand.

“I knew you were trouble since the 1st day I saw you!”

Sara only smiled. “Goodbye, witch. Thanks for the friends.” Sara lit the pyre and Cordelia watched the orange flames crack, flickering, and then it jumped? When the fire jumped for the 2nd time, Cordelia felt her body jump with it.

The next thing Cordelia knew, her eyes opened and she realized she was still on the bus. As the other students were laughing and talking, some about the recent speedbump they just passed, Cordelia sat up. Her hand on her chest, willing her heartbeat to go back to normal. Cordelia looked up at the sound of loud laughter. She grew sad when she realized it was Sara and the triplets. Cordelia frowned; she was so happy and excited to get the text this morning. She practically ran all the way to the schoolyard. When she discovered that they were already on the bus, Cordelia thought nothing of going on the bus. Yet the more she talked, the more Cordelia saw the triplets’ faces grew blanker and blanker. They had no idea what she was talking about! Cordelia’s heart sank yet she knew she wasn’t crazy. She knew that the text came from Erin’s phone. Cordelia suspected that Sara may have stolen the phone and sent the message herself to make Cordelia look foolish. Cordelia turned to get off the bus when Mrs. Robinson stopped her. Mrs. Robinson then showed her the paper and the name on it. Cordelia knew it was faked, (it must be!) There was no one there to save her. Cordelia’s heart fell into her shoes when she realized the bus to Salem was moving and she was still on it. With no other choice, Cordelia sat in the very back, which on a deluxe bus was like a padded bench with seat belts, and tried to control her breathing, just like she was trying to do now.

“Are you okay, Cordelia?” asked a classmate who sat nearby.

“I’m fine, Anne.” Cordelia lied. She was anything but fine! It was actual life and death if someone discovered her secret. As she sat up and looked around the bus, she envied the happy carefree smiles of her peers. Half of Cordelia just wanted the earth to open up and swallow her whole. The other half of her just wanted to stand up and scream. This entire journey was billed as an educational trip but Cordelia couldn’t understand what, if anything, could be ‘educational’ about a town infamous for killing witches, her kind, her people. For Cordelia, this was just as cruel as taking a person of the Jewish faith to tour a WW II death camp. Cordelia sighed as she quickly wiped a tear away. She had already decided that the only way to survive this weekend was to stay down and keep quiet. Hoping to distract herself, Cordelia took out her phone.

“Aw, man!” Cordelia groaned as she read the new message. Cordelia decided earlier not to involve her family. After all, nothing good could come from bringing even more witches to Salem. Despite this, by around 8:30, in a fit of panic, Cordelia texted her father. The instant she hit send, she regretted it. The only thing she could do now was hoping against hope that Faustus didn’t get the message. Now she knew; not only did her father get the message, but he also sent a reply.

Dear Cody,

Stay clam. I’m coming to get you as soon as can. I love you. Dad.

With a defeated sigh, Cordelia let her phone drop into her lap and rested her forehead against the window. She was already stressed as hades and they weren’t even there yet! When Cordelia noticed the sun was beaming down on her, she reached for the golden crescent moon at her neck. “Father sun, mother moon, make time fly. Make this weekend end soon.” She whispered.

Faustus didn’t understand. It was only 2 days ago that Cordelia came home crying at the mere thought of going to Salem, convinced she would die. Now she was on a bus going there? It just didn’t make any sense. Faustus knew how important Cordelia’s friends were to her but still, he just couldn’t imagine his strong-willed daughter being so desperate to win her friends’ favor that she would be talked into taking the trip. Further proof of this was Cordelia’s own text message. The message wasn’t a confessional of a kid who got carried away. It was more like a cry for help. It actually contained the phase S.O.S, which had to be a plea for help. Even if Cordelia had gone to Salem willingly, it shouldn’t have been allowed by her teachers. Even though he had always planned to claim illness and pull out at the last second, as the 7th-grade teacher, Faustus was preparing for this trip all week. Therefore, he knew that every student needed a permission slip signed by a parent or guardian to even go on the trip. Now he knew that Zelda would never sign anything that would put their daughter anywhere near Salem and Hecate knows he didn’t sign a permission slip so Cordelia should have never been able to leave with the others. She should have been kicked off that bus the moment a teacher saw her. Every time Faustus thought of his sweet, youngest child alone in that witch-hating town make Faustus pressed his foot hard on the gas pedal. He was driving on the highway, just about to enter yet another town, when something odd happened. The bottom left side of the car bounced and then dragged. The sudden movement startled Faustus so he took his eyes off the road for just a second to see what was wrong in the back. When he turned his attention back to the road, he saw a cat lying in the middle of the laneway. On instinct, Faustus turned to miss the cat and went up onto a curb. As soon as Faustus collected himself, he got out of the car. He slammed the door, angry at what he saw. The rear left tire had a big nail in it and was still leaking air. The front tire was busted up from hitting the curb.

“Damn!” Faustus swore. So much for catching up to the bus before it got to Salem. Unless…Faustus knelt by the rear tire, raised his hand, and was about to say a spell when-

“Hi there, fellow. Do ya need some help?”

Faustus looked up and saw a kind, elderly man with a tow truck right behind him. Faustus sighed, now he felt stuck. Yes, it would undoubtedly be faster to fix the car by magic, Faustus couldn’t use magic in front of a witness nor could he deny that he was in trouble. So he greeted the man, who was named Gus and it turned out that Gus owned an auto shop in the city. So Gus hooked Faustus’s car up to his truck and they drove to the shop. When they got there, Gus left Faustus in the lobby. 10 minutes later, Gus returned, frowning.

“I’m sorry, friend, but I just found a note from my partner and he had to go tend to an emergency so I’m the only 1 to look after the shop. Plus, I was just in the back, and I swear this never happens, but we seem to out of tires. So, I’m afraid you’re stuck here for a while.”

Faustus sighed. He knew he should have used magic! “Thank you for the ride into town.” He told Gus. Faustus began to walk around the waiting room as Gus went back to work. In the seating area, among the magazines, Faustus found a town map.

“Hey, do you have a bathroom here?”

“Yeah. 1st door on the left.” Gus answered.

“Thank you.” Faustus was pleased to discover that it was a private, single-person bathroom. After locking the door, Faustus unfolded the map and studied it until he found that there was A Walmart supercenter in this town. Astral projecting to a place you never been before was always risky, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He laid the map on the floor and then he laid beside the map. Faustus closed his eyes and slowed his breathing. It worked; for when Faustus opened his eyes again, he was right in front of the store. After thanking Hecate, Faustus entered the store. It was big and crowded so Faustus knew he had to hurry. Faustus made quick work of finding the auto department and selecting the correct tires. The trouble, as Faustus soon learned, was upfront. There was only 1 check-out station open and a very long lineup. Faustus stood in line, carrying a tire in each hand when he saw the 1st of those hateful birds in the window.

Oh no! Come on, come on, come on! Faustus silently willed the line to get a move on already.

Soon after, came another bird and another. By the time there were 4, Faustus realized his nose was bleeding. When 6 birds were all in a row, Faustus’s entire body was shaking and his head felt ready to explode. He could hold on no more. Sighing, Faustus dropped the tires and closed his eyes, only to return to his body on the bathroom floor. Faustus sat up and hit the titles with his palms. “Damn it!” He had to find another way to fix his car and get to his daughter and soon!

After all the stories about how all the mortals tortured and killed them, Cordelia wondered if any of the Salem witches ever simply died from boredom. If so, Cordelia may have found their descendent. It was late afternoon and the class was listening to a lecture in an old town hall. The only thing that Cordelia found remotely interesting about this guy was he has been talking for over 2 hours and had still to get a single fact right. If this so ‘witch expect’ attended the academy, Cordelia felt certain that he would easily fail 1st-year witch history. Cordelia sighed and looked out the window, only to see a graveyard, because, of course, there was a graveyard right there! Maybe it was because she was a real witch, but ever since she had arrived in Salem, Cordelia has been experienced odd things. Like wherever she went, Cordelia heard noises, like moaning and weeping, possibly from the murdered witches. Even though the Salem roads were paved, Cordelia could swear she heard splashing, as if she was walking on blood. Cordelia shook her head and turned the other way. Cordelia managed to lock eyes with Erin, and they smiled at each other. The bus had arrived in Salem at 12:30. So the first thing the class did was have lunch at a restaurant called The Witch’s Brew. (Salem got absolutely zero points for subtly.) Cordelia had a bit of luck when she was seated next to Erin at lunch. She was finally got to explain about the text, how the girls wanted to talk to her before leaving for Salem and how it came from Erin’s phone. Erin then explained that she lost her phone 3 days ago. In fact, the last thing Erin did before she left the house this morning was to ask her mom to keep looking for it. Therefore, Erin couldn’t have written that text. Still, the 2 girls got to talking during the meal and at least, for now, there was peace between Cordelia and 1 of her friends. The lecture was finally over and the class started to file out. Cordelia sneaked away to the bathroom. She did this several times today, whenever she felt the need to regroup.

You’re doing great, girl. Cordelia thought to herself. All you have to do now is get through supper, another walking tour, and then it’s off to the motel for the night. Then just 3 more days, Cordelia sighed.

When Cordelia returned to the front, she noticed that everyone from before had gone and only 2 maids were talking to each other.

“I don’t know, Dru. We come in here every day and we listen to that blockhead, every single day, telling lie after lie. But it seems especially wrong to let him tell all this to schoolchildren. It just seems so irresponsible to me.”

Drusilla, the other maid, sighed. “Shelley, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times. It doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, he’s just another mortal spinning fairy tales for mortal children. It has nothing to with us.”

“Us?” Cordelia jumped into the conversation without thinking. “You’re not mortals either? Are you witches?”

The 2 maids were visually shocked. “Mortal? Who said mortal?” Drusilla asked. “I said more tell, yeah, more tell. That darn lecturer is always leaving without telling us.”

While Drusilla was trying, very unsuccessfully, to talk herself out of trouble, Shelley knocked over the bucket of water she was mopping with. “Oh, for Hades’s sake!”

Cordelia smiled. “For Hade’s sake? That sounds like a witch phase to me. Don’t worry, I’m a witch too.”

“Oh, great. Another little girl who thinks she’s a real witch.” Although Drusilla muttered this to herself, Cordelia still overheard her.

The Spellman witch raised her hand and the spilled water was back in the bucket. “Now do you believe me?” Cordelia smiled.

“You are a witch.” Shelley said with awe and then pointed to the door. “What about the class you came in with? Are they witches?”

“No.” Cordelia shook her head. “They’re all mortals, I’m the only one.”

Drusilla raised an eyebrow. “You’re here all alone? What are you? 11?”

“12, actually,” Cordelia answered. “Yes, I’m alone, but it’s a long and confusing story and I don’t know how to explain it. What about you 2? Do you live in Salem as well as working here?”

“Dru lives in town, but you wouldn’t find me here after dark.”

Drusilla rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be such a baby, Shelley. I figured I’m safer here than anywhere else, kind of how like a farmer will never search for a fox in a henhouse.”

Cord smiled, she wasn’t sure whether that statement was madness or brilliant.

“Don’t worry, kid.” Drusilla continued. “Your day trip must be almost over. You’ll be home before you know it.”

“Oh, it’s not a day trip. The class will be here until Monday.”

“You’re staying overnight? Here? At a motel? But what about the rebels?” Shelley seemed frightened.

“The rebels?” Cordelia asked. “Who or what are the rebels?”

“They’re a secret group of mortals who believe that witches never left Salem. It’s said that to this day, they go around at night, leaving fresh blood on the motel door of witches.”

“Don’t scare her with that old wives’ tales! I’ve lived here for almost ten years and that never happened to me.”

“That’s because you don’t use motels.”

Drusilla dismissed Shelley with a shake of her head and took something out of her pocket. “Pay no mind to Shelley, but I would feel better if you took this good luck charm.”

“I just can’t take it. What if I pay for it?” Cordelia suggested. “$5 bucks?”

They agreed and as they exchanged items, Drusilla caught sight of Cordelia’s wrist. “Oh my gosh! Have you always had that?”

“What? My birthmark? Yes, I’ve always it.”

Drusilla rubbed it a bit with her thumb. “It’s not coming off. If this is what I think it is, well, honey, you are not a witch, you are THE witch.”

“What does that mean?”

Before anyone could speak further, Mrs. Applegate, another teacher from Greendale middle school, appeared at the door. “Here you are, Cordelia. Come along, it’s time for dinner and it’s starting to rain.”

It was still raining when Faustus watched the sunset from 1 of the auto shop’s windows then he sighed and turned away. Faustus simply couldn’t believe he had wasted most of the day here. This partnership with the van had yet to show up and Gus was busy with a steady stream of customers. Despite being in the same place most of the day, Faustus tried desperately to make contact with his daughter with a series of calls, texts, and video messages, all to no avail. It wasn’t surprising. After all, the class must have arrived in Salem hours ago and the 1st rule of any field trip was to turn off any and all cell phones. As for Zelda, Faustus sighed again. Faustus was too ashamed to call Zelda. Yes, he promised to call his wife as soon as he found Cordelia, but not only had he yet to find their daughter, he had no new news of her whatsoever. Maybe because it was later, Faustus thought he should try to reach Cordelia again. He took a seat in the waiting room and once again, pulled out his phone.

“Hey, I know that girl,” said the guy next to and tapped where Cordelia was on the family picture that was Faustus’s screen.

Faustus turned to the stranger. “You do?”

“Sure. I’m a traveling salesman and today I had a business lunch in Salem. Anyway, I was just leaving the restaurant when I saw a bus with a pile of kids coming off it. I remember that girl because she was the last 1 off the bus and she didn’t seem at all happy to be there.”

Faustus nodded as he listening to the other man. Knowing that his daughter was in fact in Salem and had been since lunch lit a fire under Faustus. He stood up and walked with purpose.

“What are you doing?” asked the salesman.

“What I should have done hours ago,” Faustus murmured to himself. He borrowed a phone book from behind the front desk, looked up the listing for a local cab company, and called. He then took a taxi to Walmart and picked out the 2 correct tires in person. 20 minutes after he returned to the auto shop, a man came to see him.

“Mr. Spellman, your new tires are on and ready to go.”

“Great!”

“But I’d like to have a look at your muffler.”

“My muffler?” Aside from the tires, Faustus knew that his car was fine. This guy was just trying to play him for a sucker and Faustus simply didn’t have time for this.

Still, he just said, “Sure, do whatever you have to.”

The man went back into the garage. Faustus found a discreet place to hide, where he could see his car. He waited until someone touched his car before he whispered a spell in Latin. Then the car roared to life, seemly by itself.

Faustus then ran up to the man. “Wow, you seem to have the golden touch. My car is purring like a kitten now. I gave Gus my address so you can bill me. Thank you.” Faustus got into his car and drove off while the man was still trying to figure out what just happened.

Before long, Faustus was back on the highway. One advantage of driving at night was there was barely any traffic. However, as the hours passed and Faustus got closer to Salem, the rain came down harder and harder. So hard that the paved road, that Faustus could barely see, seemed like silver. Still, Faustus kept on driving because of heaven or high water, he was determined to find his daughter…tonight! The clock on the dash read 10:37 when he finally passed the Welcome to Salem sign. Now, all he had to do was find the motel with a bus in front of it. He found it on the 3rd block he went down. Faustus parked his car and ran out of the rain and out the roof of the motel. He ran into some of his students that were lingering outside. They seemed surprised to see him but unfortunately, none of them knew where Cordelia was. Faustus was making his way to the motel’s office. He rounded the corner and ran into Nina, who smiled at him.

“Fausty! You made it! I knew you would.”

“Mrs. Robinson, please tell me, where is my daughter?”

“Oh, she’s rooming with a couple of other girls.” Nina said casually but then she leaned in and whispered “As for me, I’m in room 13, alone and ready whenever you are.”

As Nina walked away, Faustus rolled his eyes and beyond him, he heard a door open, girlish laughter, then a firm closing of the door, and finally a splash, as if falling in a puddle. Faustus turned and indeed, it was a mud puddle. It took a second for the girl to moan and turn over.

“Cordelia?”

Her eyes widened. “Dad?” Cordelia got up and went up to her father. With a quivering lip, Cordelia let go of the tears that she had kept inside all day as she threw her arm around Faustus’s waist.

“I’m sorry, Dad” She nodded. “I really am. I got scared and panicked. I regretted that text message the moment I sent it. I never meant for you or any of the family to come here.”

Faustus gently put his hand under Cordelia’s chin and forced his daughter to look up at him. “Never mind that text.” Faustus gently said. “What are you doing here?”

Cordelia shook her head, furiously. “I don’t know, I really don’t! I meant it when I told Jake I would be back in 10 minutes. I only got on the bus because the triplets were already on it when I reached the schoolyard. It was a total bust because Erin didn’t even send me the message and they just kicked me out because, for the 1st time in my life, I lied to the triplets about believing in witches.”

“Cordy, why didn’t you get off the bus?”

“I tried, but Mrs. Robinson wouldn’t let me. I begged and begged. I even considered teleporting myself home but there were too many witnesses. Then she showed me my permission slip.”

Faustus was confused. “What do you mean? Permission slips are useless until they’re signed.”

“But it was signed, Dad,” Cordelia told him. “It had your signature.”

Mine? Faustus thought, dumbstruck. Then, Faustus thought about how everyone was rightly surprised to see him, except for Nina. Faustus took off his coat and wrapped it around Cordelia. “You’re wet, muddy and you must be cold. Go and wait for me in the office. I’ll be right there, I promise.”

As soon as Cordelia was out of sight, Faustus sighed, turned, and muttered to himself, “Nina Robinson, for your own sake, I better be wrong about this!”

Faustus walked up and knocked on the door of room 13.

“Come in.”

As soon as he opened the door, Faustus noticed that there were candles everywhere in the darkened room, even on the 2nd bed. On the 1st bed, lay Nina, on her stomach, posed as if she was in a playboy magazine. All she wore was a black leather corset, a matching thong, and heels. “I knew you would come. All I had to do is get you away from the school and your wife.”

Furious, Faustus entered the room and slammed the switch that turned on the big light.

“Where are they?” He demanded.

“Where is what?” Asked Nina.

“The permission slips. You have them with you I know it!” Faustus returned, quite fiercely.

Nina said nothing so Faustus looked around and saw a teacher’s leather briefcase leaning against the TV.

“Ah!” Faustus went to the case and searched through it. 1 brief look in the mirror told Faustus that Nina had crawled to the end of the bed and was now was dangerously close to him. “Madam, I advise you to keep your hands to yourself.”

Oh?” said Nina in a flirty manner. “And why is that?”

“Because anything of yours that touches me, you are not getting back!”

Nina frowned. “You’re in a mood.”

Faustus turned to face her. “Yes, I am. Especially since I just found these.” There was a piece of paper in each hand. “Here is a permission slip for Cordelia Spellman and it does indeed bear my signature but I don’t remember signing this but this might explain it.” Faustus raised his other hand. “This is a lined paper, with nothing but my name written on it, over and over again, front and back. Yet the strange thing is at the top of the front paper looks like your handwriting, but the bottom of the back page looks like my handwriting. You forged my name on this permission slip, didn’t you?”

Nina wore her smile proudly. “It worked, didn’t it? You’re here.”

“I came here to bring Cordelia home!” Faustus fumed. “It has nothing whatsoever to do with you! And where do you get your nerve? Kidnapping my daughter and bringing her here, of all places!”

“Kidnapping? Oh, don’t be so overdramatic. It’s only a field trip.”

“To a town infamous for its injustice and murder! It wasn’t your place. It’s up to me and Zelda to decide what our daughter is exposed to!”

“Did you really have to bring your wife up again?” Nina asked, looking bored. “If you ask me, I think that Zelda is too old for you.”

“Not that’s any of your business, but Zelda and I are the same age and you want to know what I think? I think you’re not worthy enough to speak Zelda’s name!”

“Oh, come on, next you’ll tell me that you’re not attracted to me.”

“I’m not and another thing- “Faustus’s voice was drowned out by the ringing of a phone. Faustus automatically looked to the bedside table, where Nina’s phone lay charging. However, Faustus soon realized that the ringing was closer to him. In fact, the phone was in the briefcase. Nina leaped off the bed, trying to get the phone first but because he was closer, Faustus got it.

The pink, sparkly girlish phone looked oddly familiar. “Hello?” Faustus answered. “Mrs. Warner?” Faustus listened for a moment. “Oh, I see. May I ask how long has Erin been looking for this phone? Oh, I see. Yes, I’ll bring it by soon.” He ended the call and then turned to Nina. “Oh, this is low, even for you.”

Nina gave an innocent shrug. “What?”

“You know perfectly well ‘what’” Faustus snapped. “This cell phone belongs to Erin Warner. According to her mother, Erin had been looking everywhere for this for the past 3 days. This makes it impossible for Erin to send that message to Cordelia about wanting to make up at 5 this morning. You did it, didn’t you? You knew the girls were fighting and you knew that Cordelia and I were not coming on this trip. You took advantage of my daughter’s desire to make up with her friends, and once you got her on that damn bus, you kept her there, knowing full well I would come to collect my daughter!”

“But Faustus, I did it for us.”

“There is no us, you lunatic!” Faustus spat. “And I’m getting so tired of rejecting you.”

Nina smiled. “Then don’t.” She tried to put her around Faustus’s neck but he fought her off.

“Enough!” Faustus growled. “I have had it with you! I’ve tried to reason with you, to avoid you, and to explain to you how important my family is to me. All that’s left is the ugly truth so here it is. I will NEVER sleep with you! You could be the last woman, scratch that, the last person on earth, and I would still never sleep with you. In fact, you sickened me because you remind me of who I used to be and who I swore I would never become again. The fact that you would steal a child’s phone makes you a disgrace to the entire teaching profession!” Faustus then ripped up the permission slip and let the pieces fall to the floor. “Consider this me taking back custody of my daughter.” Faustus turned and left without another word, slamming the door behind him. Faustus didn’t want Cordelia to see him angry so he took a moment on the motel’s tiny porch. That’s where he first saw the thunder and lighting in addition to the rain.

The Spellman house had been filling with family all day. As word got around about Faustus, Cordelia, and Salem, people came running. Prudence was first. She was worried when Zelda, who was never late, missed the morning assembly at the academy. Prudence was even more worried when she learned when Zelda wouldn’t be leaving the house today. Hilda learned everything when she called the mortuary. By the time late afternoon rolled around, all the family knew and Ambrose, Jake, Prudence, Hilda, Sabrina, and LJ were all at the house. After dinner, they were joined by Dr. C and the other 2 weird sisters. At first, the plan was simple, just keep Zelda busy and distracted until Faustus called then everything would calm down. But the later it got, the more worried everyone got. By 11, they had run out of topics of conversation and games to play. They all felt helpless as they just sat in the drawing-room and Zelda walked0 up and down the hallway for the million time. Zelda couldn’t sit down; the only reason she ate at all was due to Hilda’s pleading. Zelda refused to go 10 feet without a phone so she stayed on the main floor all day. Zelda had no idea what to do with her hands since her last cigarette was long gone. Zelda sighed when she checked her watch. It was getting so late. If there was still no word from either Faustus or Cordelia by dawn, Zelda had already decided to go to Salem herself but she hadn’t told the others because she didn’t want anyone to talk her out of it. Zelda’s head whipped around as the phone began to ring. She ran to the phone and picked it up.

“Hello, hello?” Zelda tensed as the family gathered around her.

“Zelda? Dearest?”

Zelda’s grip tightened on the phone and closed her eyes and cherishing her husband’s voice. “Faustus! Finally, how are you? Where are you? Have you found Cordelia yet?”

“I’m fine, my dearest,” Faustus assured Zelda. “It’s been an insanely long day but I’m finally in Salem and as for Cordelia” The line went silent for a second and then… “Hi, Mom!”

Zelda bit her lip to keep her tears of joy and relief in check. “Oh, Cordelia, my sweet, precious girl. How are you? Did anyone hurt you?”

“No. I’m fine, Mom. I’ve been with the class all day and no one suspected me at all, I promise. And I definitely feel safer now that Dad’s here with me. Mom, is LJ there?”

“Yes, she’s right here.” Zelda passed the phone to her stepdaughter.

“Hello? Cordy? What’s wrong?”

“LJ, I’m so sorry.”

LJ was confused. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

“Because tonight was the night you were supposed to bring your boyfriend to dinner to meet the family.”

LJ was touched. “The fact that you remember that after all, you had to deal with today proves that you are the sweetest little sister in the whole wide world. Peter can wait. What’s important now is to get you and Dad home safe and sound.”

The sisters chatted for a few minutes and then LJ gave the phone back to Zelda and after a few moments, Cordelia passed the phone back to Faustus.

“So, now that you’re located Cordelia, are you in your home now?” Zelda asked.

“Oh, not exactly dearest. I know that it was my idea to just grab Cordelia and then drive all through the night back to Greendale, but there’s a problem here. You see, there’s a raging storm here and it’s not safe to be on the road. I barely made it here.”

“Can’t you teleport?” Zelda suggested. “Surely you must know the way home.”

“I do, but people saw Cordy and I come in this motel room so we just can’t up and disappear.”

Zelda frowned. “I don’t like the idea of you and Cordelia spending the whole night in Salem.”

“Neither do I,” Faustus agreed, “but it could be a lot worse. You see, Mrs. Applegate was kind enough to give up her room so she will have to share with Mrs. Robinson.” Was it Zelda’s imagination or was there laughter in her husband’s voice? “Anyway,” Faustus continued, “this is a single room so Cordy and I will have to share the bed tonight. The storm is sure to be over by morning and then Cordy and I will be on our way. I can assure you, dearest, I won’t be in this town a moment more than I need to.”

Zelda sighed; she still didn’t like it, but she understood. “Please be careful, Faustus, and give Cordy a goodnight kiss for me. I love you.”

“We’ll be home before you know it. I love you too.”

Although she had taken her wet clothes off when she first got to the room, Cordelia was still cold after the phone call home, so she treated herself to a hot bath. Since she had no PJs, she put the white plush motel robe back on and double knotted it so she could wear it as a nightdress. Faustus then took a quick shower to wash off his road trip. When he stepped back into the main room, he found Cordelia standing before the window, the rain and the moon casting her face in a ghastly glow.

“You know; you were born on a night very much like this.”

Cordelia looked up at him. “Don’t you hear them, Dad?”

“Hear what?”

Cordelia frowned. “The moans pleads and cries of our people. Thousands and thousands of them, crying out in pain and for justice. I’ve been hearing them all day, ever since I got off the bus.”

Faustus heard nothing and thought it must be a divine child thing. “Come on honey, we have a long drive home tomorrow. We better get some sleep.”

As they made themselves comfortable in bed, Faustus noticed something he hadn’t before. “Cordy, why are shivering? Didn’t that bath warm you up?”

“Oh, am I shivering?” His daughter asked. “I’ve been doing it all day. I guess I don’t even notice it anymore.”

Faustus could help smiling to himself. As a 12-year-old witch who had in the company of mortals, doing a tour of Salem all day, Cordelia had every right to be afraid but she would never admit it. She was so strong, so proud, so like her mother. “You’re very brave.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. If I was so brave, I would have never caved and texted you that message.”

“Oh, will you stop! I’m glad you sent that message. I’m glad that I was able to track you down. Besides, the text doesn’t take away from the fact that you just spent an entire day learning about 1 of the darkest chapter in our people’s history.”

“Yep, that’s me. Cordelia the brave…and the friendless.” She muttered.

Faustus felt his face grow hot. This whole thing started because Cordelia wanted to make right with her friends. She must have been heartbroken to learn that her friends didn’t text her this morning. Damn you, Nina! Faustus thought and then said out loud, “Don’t worry Cordy. You’ll make up with the Warners soon, I know it.”

Faustus turned off the lamp and despite being quiet, neither Cordelia nor Faustus slept all night. Maybe they were overtired or overstressed by being 2 witches in Salem. It was dawn when exhaustion finally took Cordelia and she rolled over into her father’s arms. Faustus curled his long-limbed body around her protectively before kissing her forehead. “Don’t worry baby, Daddy’s got you.” He whispered before sleep claimed him too.

1 hour later, a scream woke them up. They jumped out of bed and open the door to see the class, teachers and all of the hotel staff were in front of them. Faustus looked at the door. “Is that paint? Or blood?”

“The rebels” Cordelia whispered, suddenly remembering what the maids told her. She looked around and froze. Her room wasn’t the only marked. There was also blood on the door of the room that the triplets shared with Sara.

#chilling adventures of sabrina #caoz #chapter 19 #fanfic #spellwood #zelda spellman #faustus blackwood #hilda spellman #sabrina spellman #ambrose spellman #prudence blackwood #cordelia spellman #lj spellman #jake spellman #please comment #please reblog

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bush-viper-cutie · 4 years ago

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“The Marauders Speak” || YEAR 3 – Ch.29 (HP au)

Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 10/27/2020

Word count: 3, 561

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

Hey! Sorry this is a whole week late but I am back! Thanks for being so patient :D

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“Wait!” Harry stopped just below the incline up to the witch’s statue and stuffed the cloak in a little crevice. “Just in case we get caught.”

They were sweating and red and panting from the long run. Heather couldn’t protest, knowing if they got caught, the statue would be sealed and the cloak would be unreachable from the castle, all she could do was nod her head and huff a breathy “Ok”.

Heather started climbing up with Harry right behind her. She stopped at the statue, gripping the walls of the tunnel, and wished she knew what the situation was on the other side. Were Draco and Professor Snape waiting for them on the other side, arms crossed and fuming? Technically, only Harry was spotted. She could hide in the tunnel until after he got caught… She sighed and tapped her wand on the smooth stone and listened to the soft scrapes of the stone sliding out of place.

She stepped out into the hall and looked around. No one nearby. No one had spotted them. She stepped aside and helped Harry out. They closed the witch’s hump and wiped their faces with their sleeves, making them damp.

“They must be searching for us if Draco’s made it already.” She pulled Harry’s collar and wiped a bit of dirt off his cheek. “We should split up so – ”

Harry’s eyes moved from hers and focused on something in the distance. She swallowed and turned, watching as Professor Snape walked swiftly towards them, robes billowing back, cutting through the air with every long stride he took. It was like watching the grim reaper stalking towards them down the dim hall, the warm tones of the torch flames doing nothing to counter the harsh coldness emitting off him. She’d never felt more like a dear, watching dumbly as he stopped in front of them with a deep scowl set in his face as his eyes danced over each of them.

“So.” Professor Snape’s scowl lifted into a relaxed look of triumph, seeing as his effort to catch them turned out to be no effort at all. “Potters. My office.” He turned on his heels and led the way down the hall.

Heather and Harry looked at each other, wishing they had whatever twin telepathy Fred and George had so they could get their stories straight. As they walked, Harry motioned at their hands covered in mud and started wiping them clean. Heather did the same as she thought. Technically they could just say they were playing tag or something, and that was why they seemed so sweaty and out of breath… Do wizard children play tag? She and Harry certainly didn’t but maybe it’d still be believable if she said it.

They walked down the dungeon stairs and turned a corner into Professor Snape’s office. She had already grown comfortable to the threatening atmosphere of the room, having been inside only a thousand times asking countless questions – half of which were always answered with ‘Leave my office and ask again next year’ – but by Harry’s face she knew how intimidating it really felt to be in here.

The fireplace was half lit, casting everything in a dim green light, accentuating the sliminess of things stuffed in jars and mounted above his desk. She could never tell if the room was round or square or if there were any doors inside the room; there was never enough light to tell. The only well-lit area was his desk with the dozens of candles floating around and set on books and inside jars or stuffed in the necks of old and empty tall glass bottles.

They walked up to the only chairs centered in the room and looked at him as he stood in front of his desk with a small smile.

“Sit,” he ordered them.

They sat, waiting for him to take his own seat behind his desk but he remained standing, towering over them a few feet away.

“I’ve just heard the strangest story,” he began, speaking casually as if they were long-time friends. “Mr. Malfoy has just told me of his strange experience by the Shrieking Shack.”

Heather swallowed.

“See, he had run into Weasley – apparently alone – and was standing talking to him – ”

Heather looked over at Harry, watching as his lips moved to say something, probably wanting to say Draco had been teasing Ron about his family, but he remained silent.

“When a large amount of mud hit the back of his head.” Professor Snape paused for a few seconds. “How do you think that could have happened?”

Heather kept her mouth shut and glanced at Harry who looked very surprised.

“I don’t know, Professor.” Harry looked very innocently back at Professor Snape.

Professor Snape’s calm demeanor slowly drained as his eyes bore into Harry. “Mr. Malfoy then saw an extraordinary apparition… Can you imagine what it might have been?” His eyes turned to Heather’s.

Heather shook her head. “No.”

“It was a floating head,” he said sharply. “Your head. Mr. Potter.”

Heather and Harry stayed silent for a long while. An uncomfortable long while. Professor Snape seemed to be waiting for them to give up, give in, he had them cornered and there was no escaping Draco’s very factual story.

Heather took a breath and before she could speak, Harry’s words cut the silence.

“He ought to go see Madam Pomfrey, if he’s seeing things like – ”

Professor Snape leaned in. “What would your head have been doing in Hogsmeade?” he asked softly. “Your head is not allowed in Hogsmeade – No part of your body has permission to be in Hogsmeade. So how had your head made it there?”

“Professor – ” Heather started, ready to plead guilty and beg for anything but expulsion.

“We know all that,” Harry cut in quickly. “It seems like Malfoy’s having hallucin – ”

“Malfoy is not having hallucinations!” Professor Snape snarled. He bent down and placed a hand on each arm of Harry’s chair so that his face was a foot away from Harry’s. “If your head was in Hogsmeade… then so was the rest of you.”

She knew they had been defeated and caught. There was no way they were getting out of this one. He knew Harry had been there and if they kept up their ignorance then the punishment would only get worse. “Prof – ”

“I was in Gryffindor Tower,” Harry interrupted her again. “You told us to go to our common rooms and – ”

“Can anyone confirm?” Professor Snape slowly turned to her as well, triumph back on his face. “And you? Can anyone confirm you were in the common room or even inside the castle while Mr. Potter’s head was floating about Hogsmeade?”

“No,” she sighed.

Professor Snape straightened and his thin lips curled into a smile. “So. Everyone from the Minister of Magic downward has been trying to keep the famous Potters safe from Sirius Black. A murderer who has been spotted in the area and has already attempted an attack on one of you… Except the famous Potters follow no laws or rules. They let the ordinary people worry about their safety. Famous Harry Potter goes where he wants, with no regard for consequences – And of course where would he be without his most devoted follower.”

Heather’s face went red and she looked away. She felt the bag of ingredients under her sweater and counted the bottles, trying to calm down. He was trying to provoke them, make them admit their guilt. She had wanted to give in already, but now her anger melted her lips shut and her throat closed.

“You’ve no proof.” Harry sat up again in his chair. “Just because Malfoy Hallucinates my head in Hogsmeade doesn’t mean I was in – ”

Professor Snape looked down at him. “How extraordinarily like your father.”

Heather and Harry looked up at him suddenly, blinking with true surprise.

His eyes glinted at their intense attention on him. “Your father was exceedingly arrogant. A small amount of talent on the Quidditch field made him think he was a cut above the rest of us. As you do, Potter.”

Harry’s jaw clenched. Heather’s stomach felt like stone, heavy and cold.

“He too strutted ‘round the place with his friends and admirers at his heels – The resemblance between you is uncanny.”

Harry’s resemblance to their father had always been mentioned with praise, but Heather could see a deep hurt setting in. Harry was no longer looking innocently astounded that such a tale could have been spun about him from Malfoy. His eyebrows were pulled in and the distant green flames of the office danced on his eyes.

“Our dad didn’t strut. And neither do I.”

Professor Snape looked at them and shook his head slightly. “Your father didn’t set much store by rules either.” His words dripped from his mouth like venom.

Heather glared at him. If there was anything she hated more than hearing good things about her parents… it was hearing awful things about them. The rocks in her stomach had disappeared, replaced by a deep and hungry pit that fed on her anger. She was mad there was no one here to defend her father. Mad that she felt the responsibility was on her. According to the world, their father had been amazing, and funny, and talented, and loved… and here Snape was painting a very opposite picture. One she hated thinking about more. It gave her father flaws, something that made him feel infinitely more real and alive than anything good he’d been before. He was feeling real… too real.

Snape’s thin face was full of malice and spite. “Rules were for lesser mortals, not Quidditch Cup winners. His head was so swollen – ”

“SHUT UP!”

Harry was on his feet, hands clenched, mouth open – except the words had not come from him.

Snape’s dark eyes were glaring at Heather dangerously. His teeth were bared as his upper lip curled up in a snarl. “What did you say? Potter?”

Harry was still staring at her in disbelief and she stood with him. Tears were streaming down her face and she could feel her hands shaking. “I said shut up about our father.”

Harry turned back to Snape. “You’ve no right to say what you’re saying. We know the truth – Dumbledore told us. You wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for our dad!”

Snape had gone the palest Heather had ever seen him.

He stared at them rigidly and slowly his black eyes focused and the small bit of color returned to his skin. He let out a harsh and shaky breath. “And,” he whispered, “did the headmaster tell you the circumstances in which your father saved my life? Or did he consider the details too unpleasant for the Potters’ sensitive ears?”

The room was silent, except for the quiet crackle of the logs in the fireplace, and the occasional drip of candle wax onto books.

“No,” Heather whispered.

He took a step and stood directly in front of both of them. “Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Your father selflessly coming to my rescue? Let me correct you – your saintly father and his dear friends played a highly amusing joke on me. One that would have resulted in my death if your father hadn’t finally come to his senses at the last possible moment. There’s nothing brave in him saving his own skin. Had their joke succeeded, him and his friends would have gotten expelled… and worse.”

Heather’s forehead hurt from frowning. She relaxed her face and wiped her tears away with the palms of her hand. She stared at her tears and sniffed. She was done with Snape’s cruel tactics and whatever he gained from ruining the memory of their father. She could no longer feel her stomach, or the anger that had been boiling in her veins. She didn’t feel sad. She felt empty. And all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep and forget she ever heard anything about their parents.

She sniffed and turned, taking a few steps towards the door.

“I haven’t dismissed you, Potter.”

Heather stopped walking.

“Both of you, turn out your pockets,” Snape spat suddenly.

Heather walked back and turned out her skirt pockets, showing the empty white cloth and a small bag of coins that she placed on his desk. Harry swallowed and placed his Zonko’s bag of tricks and the Marauder’s map next to Heather’s coin bag.

Snape picked up the Zonko’s bag.

“Ron gave those to me last time he went to Hogsmeade.”

“Indeed? How sentimental of you to be carrying them ever since.” He picked up the bag of coins and shook them. “And what would you be needing money for?”

“They were just left in my skirt from – ”

“The last time you were in Hogsmeade?” Snape picked up the map.

Heather glanced at Harry who looked confidently relaxed.

“And what is this?”

Harry shrugged. “Just a spare bit of parchment. For essays. You’ve assigned a lot.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed and stayed on Harry as he spoke. “This parchment is too old to hold much ink… Why don’t I give you newer parchment… and throw this one away for you?” His hand moved towards the green fire.

“Don’t!” Harry blurted out.

A twisted grin appeared on Snape’s face. “So. Are you going to tell me this is another treasured gift from Mr. Weasley? And not some sort of letter… or instructions written in invisible ink? With directions on how to get into Hogsmeade without passing the dementors?”

Heather swallowed. “There’s no way to not pass the dementors. And Professor Dumbledore has secured the whole castle so how could there be instructions for that?”

Snape’s eyes gleamed. “Why don’t we find out?” He spread out the map and took out his wand. “Let me see… Reveal your secret!” He tapped the map but it remained blank. “Show yourself!” He tapped again but nothing changed.

Heather was starting to feel less and less numb as dread took over. This was the proof he needed to prove they had been in Hogsmeade. She hoped endlessly that the Marauders had thought of teachers trying to reveal their map. Just because Mr. Filch hadn’t been able to did not mean Snape couldn’t, or wouldn’t make it his mission to find out the secrets to Harry’s ‘treasured’ old bit of parchment.

“Professor Snape, master of this school, commands you to yield information you conceal!” Snape hit the center of the map with his wand.

Harry snickered but his amusement turned to horror as words appeared on the surface of the map, letter by letter.

‘Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people’s business.’

Heather stared at the words in alarm. The terror continued as more words appeared, one mark at a time.

‘Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git.’

The words just kept appearing.

‘Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor.’

Heather’s knees buckled and she sat back down on her chair. Harry covered his eyes with his hands as the map wrote out more.

‘Mr. Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball.’

Snape was frozen in place, staring at the words. Heather imagined this would all be very hilarious in the far future, if Harry and her could manage to walk out of his office alive.

“So…” Snape said softly. He strode to his fire and grabbed a fistful of powder from a jar on the fireplace and threw it into the fire. The powder glittered in the air and popped as it reached the flames, turning them a lighter green. “Lupin! A word!” Snape yelled at the wild flames.

Harry sat in his chair and both Heather and him stared as a shape appeared in the fire. Moments later Professor Lupin was stepping out of the fireplace, brushing ash from his mustache.

“You wanted a word, Severus?”

Snape’s face was contorted with fury as he stepped back to his desk and pointed at the map. “I have just had the Potters empty their pockets and he was carrying THIS.”

The words were still shinning as if freshly inked. Professor Lupin glanced down and nodded.

“Well?” Snape waited.

Professor Lupin looked like he was reading over the map but he was taking far longer than necessary.

“Well.” Snape repeated. “This is evidently full of Dark Magic. Which is your area of expertise, is it not? Lupin? Where do you imagine he got such a thing?”

Professor Lupin gave a controlled chuckle. “You really think this is full of Dark Magic? It looks as if it is merely an old bit of parchment charmed to insult anyone who reads it. Does that really seem dangerous, Severus? Seems childish to me. I would guess Harry’s gotten it from a joke shop. Perhapse Zonko’s – ”

“A joke shop? You believe he has gotten this from a joke shop and not from the manufacturers themselves?” Snape’s jaw went rigid with anger as Professor Lupin smiled amusedly.

Heather didn’t know what was going on or what Snape was talking about, as apparently neither did Professor Lupin.

“Harry, Heather, do any of you know these… ‘Wormtails’ or whoever these men are?”

Heather and Harry shook their heads.

“Now you see, Severus. This must clearly be from Zonko’s.” Professor Lupin leaned on Snape’s desk and waited for him to say anything else.

There was a loud THUMP and the office door swung open. Several jars shook and clinked from the commotion and Ron came running in, out of breath. Ron Stopped next to Professor Lupin and huffed.

“I – gave – Harry – and Heather – that stuff.” Ron took another deep breath. “Bought it… In Zonko’s – ages ago…”

Heather felt the sudden need to laugh and held it in. Harry did his best not to look at Ron too cheerfully and they both held in their astonished faces, making sure to look utterly unamused, as if the world’s dullest mystery was finally solved.

“Well,” Professor Lupin clapped his hand to Ron’s back. “Thank’s so much for clearing this whole mess up, Mr. Weasley. Now let’s get out of Professor Snape’s hair, shall we?” He took the map and folded it into his robes, “Severus, you won’t be needing that will you?” He turned and faced the three of them. “Harry, Heather, Ron. A word about the vampire essays I’ve assigned to you – Good rest of your day, Severus – ”

Heather and Harry stood and were herded out of Snape’s office without a glance back. They walked out of the dungeon and remained silent until they made it to the entrance hall. Harry stopped and turned to Professor Lupin, who paused before turning to him as well.

“Professor, I’m – ”

Professor Lupin held up his hand. “No explanations.” He looked around and lowered his voice. “I know that Mr. Filch had confiscated this many years ago. I know what it really is. I’ve no idea how you have ended up with it but I am truly shocked that you never turned it in. Especially after the last time a student left information lying around the castle… I won’t be handing this back to either of you.”

Heather nodded. “Did… you or Snape know Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, or Prongs?”

Professor Lupin sighed. “They were well known… somewhat. Now, I won’t be covering for any of you next time. You two may not take Sirius Black seriously, but I would have thought you two understood the sacrifices your parents made to keep you both safe… Sneaking off and putting yourselves in danger are poor ways to repay them.” He looked away from them and walked up the stairs.

Ron, Harry, and Heather stood awkwardly at the foot of the stairs. Heather was less so hurt by his words than by the fact her new favorite teacher likely thought they were childish and selfish and reckless with their lives.

“I’m sorry. I kept trying to convince you to two to go to Hogsmeade. It’s my fault.” Ron crossed his arms over his chest and kicked at the dirt.

Heather put her hand on his arm. “It’s not your fault… or not JUST your fault. I knew we shouldn’t have gone but I had things to buy.”

“And I went knowing I shouldn’t’ve. We don’t blame you at all.” Harry started up the stairs.

They followed him up, all deciding to skip dinner, and walked up to Gryffindor Tower in silence. Heather was about to say goodbye to them when she noticed Hermione walking down the stairs towards them holding a letter.

Ron frowned at her. “Come to gloat? Don’t bother telling on us, we’ve already been told off by Snape and Lupin.”

Hermione ignored him and looked at Harry and Heather. “I thought you’d like to know… Hagrid lost his case. Buckbeak is going to be executed.” She held up the tear stained letter and walked back up to the portrait hole, stepping inside.

The three of them stared at the letter, recognizing the giant tears of Hagrid.

“We should have helped more,” Ron whispered.

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#harry potter #heather potter #pro snape #severus snape x oc #severus x oc #snape x oc #severus snape x reader #severus x reader #snape x reader #snape fanfic #snape fanfiction #snape fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction

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zodiyack · 5 years ago

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Phantom Of The Opera

Requested by anon: Just wanna say that you're my favorite writer on Tumblr! ❤️ I have a strange request. Could you make one Thomas ShelbyxReader based on The Phantom of the Opera? The reader performs in a fancy theater and a man, the theater's ghost, is obsessed with her. And the Peaky Blinders have to wait for the performance to catch him 'cause he's a freaking ghost (Point of No Return scene) I don't know if you ever watched The Phantom of the Opera, but I can send you another message with more info if you want

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x reader

Warnings: Swearing, mention of stalking, smoking and alcohol, fluff, angst, mention of murder(?), slightly straying? idk man

Note: I’ve never seen the movie, so I’m not gonna be completely accurate, but it’s not supposed to be EXACTLY the movie, so I guess that’s okay? I hope you guys like it! Also.. don’t mind the singing parts... 😅

so basically, it’s like the movie but there are MAJOR differences... oops

Special addition to the note!: I had some help!! Thank you so much @jenepleurepasbaby for the ideas as well as information from the movie, I can’t thank you enough!

Word count: 3,000+

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @stydia-4-ever, @matth1w, @redspaceace, @jenepleurepasbaby, @simonsbluee

masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist

She adjusted her hair as the director dismissed everyone. Their practice was now cut short, dark coming closer and closer. Arthur was her ride, yet he lie asleep, and possibly drunk, in one of the seats. Y/n sighed, grabbing bunches of her large white dress. Her friends bid her goodnight as they walked out of the building, leaving Y/n and her lover’s unconscious brother alone and in silence.

Y/n was unsure of her part. Although they just practiced, she felt the need to go over a bit more. Arthur managed to sleep through the entire rehearsal, so who’s to say he wouldn’t sleep through her singing? She would need to wake him up anyway. So she sang, went over her parts, fell into the melody.

That was, until she heard it.

Until she heard him.

The rough organ, the voice. They clicked into her brain, her voice slipping and dropping silent. It took her by surprise. Though she stopped, the voice kept singing. He sounded beautiful, elegant, more perfect for the singing role of her on stage lover than the singing partner selected for said role was.

“Sir?” No response came to Y/n, but the man continued singing. She looked around, checking on Arthur in his intoxicated yet peaceful state, and then starting her mission. She wished to find the voice, so she followed it.

The louder it got, the bigger the pit in her stomach grew. It was a pit of nothing but fear and worry. She didn’t have Tommy with her, and Arthur was asleep, she knew she would need to be careful. Her hand wandered down to her side. Under the thick fabric of her gown, holster from Polly made specifically to hide on her garter clips, was a small gun.

A breath she didn’t realize she was holding released itself from her mouth, relief at the feeling of the cold metal. She hoped she would have no need to use it, but it was good to be cautious.

His singing was now echoing through the hall, signing his presence. Y/n turned and gasped slightly out of shock. She let her eyes study the figure in front of her, the white mask that donned the side of his face, his slicked back hair, the way his voice sounded...

It was almost like his voice was magic. Her eyes gleamed with an entranced look, like she wasn’t fully there.

His free hand reached for hers and before she could top herself, she slipped her palm into his. He stopped singing, leading her through the theater to wherever he was to take her. She couldn’t stop herself, it was hard enough to even thinking in her own voice with his angelic voice.

Now that she heard him in person, she realized she’d heard him many times before. She’d heard him in her dreams, the same voice haunting her, no matter it’s beauty. He called for her, summoning her to a place she had no knowledge of.

The stories of the theater dubbed him the Phantom of the Opera, the ghost who would kill those who refused to do his bidding.

“Reminds me of a certain family.” She remembered telling the story to Tommy and the other Peaky Blinders, referencing their work with teasing smile.

His voice summoned her ever since the first performance she’d ever done at this very theater, a man standing on the rafters and observing her rather intensely. However, she was not the one to spot him that time, instead a backstage worker. He pointed out the man, but Arthur assumed he was just drunk and told Y/n to just ignore it.

Oh how wrong he was.

The half-masked man seemed to have such a power, casting a spell on her and removing logic from her mind. Her face lit up by the torch in his hand as he led her down a staircase. A horse waited down

“Sing once again with me, our strange duet. My power over you, grows stronger yet.” He lifted her onto the horse and guided the dark steed down a ramp-like walkway. “And though you turn from me, to glance behind, the Phantom of the Opera, is there inside your mind.”

He helped Y/n off the horse, held her hand as he helped her into the small row boat. He rowed through the water, closer and closer to his lair. She didn’t know why, but she felt the urge to join in. Was it his spell? Making her feel this way?

“Those who have seen your face, draw back in fear.” It was definitely him. She couldn’t think of a time she’d ever sing something like this, aside from her performances. “I am the mask you wear,”

“It’s my voice they hear.” He continued to sing as she transferred to the operatic vocalizing. The masked Phantom encouraged her, stopping his song and listening to her breathtaking voice. “Sing, my angel of music!”

“Sing my angel...Sing for me!” She grew louder the closer they got, the grate lifting and allowing them entry to his underground lair. “Sing my angel! Sing for me!!” Y/n hit her final high note, cutting herself off as they came to a stop. The candles, which had risen from the foggy waters, were just now being processed with mild confusion. The events prior to her arrival in his hideaway were catching up to her, equally as mysterious.

“Listen my dear. Can you hear that?”

“Hear what?” The Phantom held her hand, helping her out of the boat.

“The organ, of course. I’ve played it for you, in hopes that you’d listen and find your way to me. And that, you did.”

“You were... playing it... for me?” Y/n raised her eyebrows curiously. He nodded, walking over and playing a few notes to the song she had been rehearsing before she wounded up in his secret home. “W-Why?”

“What better way to prove my love for you?”

Her mind gave itself a slap to the face, returning herself to full consciousness, the hypnotic state the Phantom had her in was nowhere to be found. “Excuse me?”

“Is there a problem? I’m simply stating my admiration for you. My undying heart, it beats only for you, and your marvelous voice. That man, the one who sent the other with you, he has no love for you. His heart holds no care nor affection for you. Alas, that is one thing he and I do not have in common.” The Phantom’s lips curled into a smile, a child-like innocence that could’ve tricked Y/n’s back into her trance.

But it didn’t. She pushed him away from her, making sure to not be too rough. “Why!? Why would you say such a thing!? You trick me into following you, just to reveal you wanted to rid me of my lover?”

“No, not just that-”

“Have you lost your mind?! I’m sorry, I can’t. It was a pleasure meeting you, dear Phantom, but I’m afraid I simply cannot except any offers you have. Your love is flattering, but my heart belongs to the one who actually does love me back.” Her hands gripped her dress again, pulling it up enough for her to move back to the row boat.

However, she couldn’t make it to the small boat on time. He grabbed her arm and yanked her towards him, forcing her to face him. “Please, Y/n, just let me prov-”

“How do you know my name?” A silence split between the two. He didn’t answer her question. She looked up at him slowly, curiosity overtaking her. He was distracted, unaware, it as the perfect time to strike. She reached for his mask, snatching it, but being pushed to the ground before she could see his face.

He growled, covering the side with his hand, screaming insults at her as she remained on the ground with wide eyes. She was too shocked to move. The push managed to take the breath from her lungs, resulting in small coughs when she tried to stand up.

“I- I’m sorry.” She reached for his cheek, the action startling him. He stumbled backwards, he reached forwards slowly when she held out his mask, ripping it from her hands. “Please, could you take me back to the theater?”

He didn’t respond. His own way of saying no.

“I’ll... um... I’ll be going then.”

He didn’t stop her. He wanted to, but he didn’t. Besides, she had a performance coming up, did she not?

. . .

“Y/n has called a family meeting!” Arthur stomped over to his chair, sitting and crossing his arms as he waited for the rest of his family.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“No, Pol, I’m fine...”

Arthur groaned and rolled his eyes. “Yesterday. Theater. Stalker. Tell them, Y/n.”

The family’s eyes shifted from Y/n to Arthur, then back to Y/n after he finished his sentence. “Fine. There was...a man... Um... Remember the ‘drunken man’ from my first performance?”

Everyone nodded. Esme stepped in, receiving a short glance from John, “What happened? Did your stalker try to kill you or something?”

“No no no, he wouldn’t do that.” The calmed family turned to Y/n with concern and confusion. Y/n looked at each one of them, anticipating their reactions. More specifically, Tommy’s. Jealousy and anger surged throughout his body, and somehow, everyone could tell. Jumping out of her chair, she walked over to him and pecked his lips reassuringly, “No, I’m not in love with him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Alright alright, Tommy, stop being jealous, Y/n, we must be getting back to the point. Please explain what this meeting is for?”

“Ah yes,” She sat back down. “He um... well he took me somewhere. It was like..under the theater? I sang with him... he called me his ‘angel of music’, and he said my name...”

“What else did he do?” Tommy’s jaw clenched.

“He wouldn’t take me back, so I went back myself. He um... well he did do um.. something...”

Arthur slammed his cup onto the table, standing up quickly, ignoring the wide eyed glares from Linda and Polly. “Oh get bloody on with it! It’s not like you slept with him or something!”

“Damn it Arthur! Could you please just give her some fucking time!?”

“T-thank you, Pol... but Arthur’s right. The man... he... confessed.”

Lizzie was the one to react first this time. She seemed mentally absent from the conversation until the confession had been mentioned, her jaw dropping and eyes popping. “Confessed what?”

“His love. For- for me. I left at that point. He tried to tell me Tommy didn’t love me, but no words from anyone could ever make me believe that. It felt like he put me into some from of trance until then, which I snapped myself out of once he brought up love.”

Tommy started for the door, gun in hand, but was stopped by Y/n. “Please, just... just leave this be... let the coppers handle it, it’ll be alright.”

“Alright? Alright? All-fucking-right?” the blue eyed man pointed to the door, the veins in his hands were bulging. “Out there is a man who is stalking you, obsessing over you, and possibly targeting me so he can take you. And you’re gonna tell me it’ll be ‘alright’?”

“Tom... to be fair, you are being a little ov-”

“Ada, don’t you dare finish that fucking sentence. Tommy’s right.” If looks could kill, Arthur would be long gone by now. “When it first happened, she asked us to wait until it happened more, then it did. But she still didn’t want us to do anything. This time she had an in-person encounter with the creep, and she wants us to wait for coppers?”

He turned to Y/n, “Arthur’s correct. We waited, just as you asked, and now, it’s extreme. Please...” He returned his gun to it’s holster, taking her face in his hands, “let us deal with this.”

“I-” Her e/c orbs glanced around the room, zooming from person to person before giving in and locking eyes with the man in front of her and relaxing into his touch. “Okay... just, don’t hurt him. He seemed so... alone.”

“We can’t promise anything, but we’ll try our best. We’ll all come to the show, and we’ll be your protection, alright?” She nodded and kissed him back as he pressed his lips to hers softly. “Now, let’s get home.”

“Thank you everyone... I’m sorry about-”

“No.” Y/n’s head snapped up, quirking an eyebrow to Polly’s interruption. “Don’t be sorry. It’s gonna be okay. Get some rest, you have quite a performance to prepare for.” With that, she winked and smiled, waving goodbye to Y/n and Tommy as they exited the Betting Shop. She was right. They had a big day tomorrow, and there was no time for messing around.

. . .

As she sang, her eyes were focused on the audience, darting around in search for her lover and his family. The Peaky Blinders weren’t that hard to miss, but they soon became so when The Phantom entered onto the stage where her partner should’ve. She noticed quite quickly, the difference in vocal ranges, the height and figure differences. She would be lying if she were to say she didn’t feel even the slightest bit of fear.

Their voices danced together, the trance returning to her, her body and mind betraying her. The Phantom walked closer, lust filled his eyes, the trance-like-state forcing the same into hers. Tommy, in his seat, gripped his gun. Patience escaped him, replaced with burning jealousy and rage.

“When will the blood begin to race, the sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames at last, consume us?”

They began towards each other. Arthur nudged Tommy’s shoulder, gesturing to some of the cast peaking from behind the curtain, obviously puzzled with Y/n’s singing partner. All the proof they needed that he was the man they were watching for.

Their voices joined, “Past the point of no return! The final threshold!” Tommy’s hold on his weapon grew tighter as Y/n and The Phantom closed the distance between their bodies. The stranger spun Y/n around and wrapped his arms around her stomach, his hands over hers. “The bridge is crossed, so stand, and watch it burn...”

Like a bull to a red flag, the sight of The Phantom’s wandering right hand traveling up Y/n’s chest and to her neck brought darkness to his eyes. “We've passed the point, of no return...”

Although the song was due to end there, The Phantom had other plans.

Y/n’s eyes opened as The Phantom’s voice continued. She was waking herself up, realizing her state and snapping out of it.

“Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime... Lead me, save me, from my solitude... Say you want me with you, here beside you, anywhere you go, let me go too - Y/n, That's all I ask of-”

He was interrupted by the screams of the audience. Y/n did what she needed to do. She had pulled the black mask free of his face, revealing to the audience just who he really was. Thomas took the screams as his cue and pulled his gun from it’s holster. He didn’t move, instead, he waited for a sign that would tell him that it was necessary. He preferred Y/n get out of this alive.

She looked to the Phantom with sorry emotion, genuine sympathy and hurt in her e/c orbs. The Phantom returned her reaction. He couldn’t be mad at her, but that wouldn’t stop him from having her.

Out of his peripheral vision, he noticed the coppers racing to the stage, pushing past people. He immediately grabbed hold of Y/n’s waist, as tight as he could, and cut the string to the enormous chandelier.

Tommy jumped up, alerting his family, directing each person to move out of the way. He froze, watching Y/n and The Phantom fall from the bridge, and into the ground. Tommy surged forward, leaning over the railing and screaming in agony, forced to watch the stalker escape through a hole in the ground with the love of his life. Polly, Michael, and Arthur grabbed Tommy, trying to pull him back. Even Pol had tears in her eyes.

It was never meant to go this way.

When did everything go so wrong?

What did they mess up?

. . .

The three brothers found their way through waters, ending up in The Phantom’s lair. Tommy’s eyes widened. Y/n, face covered in tears, mouth shivering, frozen in fear, stood there, next to The Phantom, in a wedding dress. She looked gorgeous, but Tommy couldn’t let that distract him.

“What the f-”

Arthur slapped a hand over John’s mouth, quieting him before they could be caught by the pair. He looked over to his other brother, scanning the look of worry on his face. His other hand rubbed his brother’s arm comfortingly.

“Pity comes too late,” The Phantom placed a veil on Y/n’s head, “turn around and face your fate! And eternity of this!-” he pointed to the scared side of his face, “before your eyes...” He calmed himself by looking into her eyes. Erik, the Phantom, placed a ring into Y/n’s hand.

Y/n walked to a covered mirror, taking off the veil as she walked. “This haunted face,” She tore down the cover, turning to Erik. It was clear that they were no longer strangers. “Holds no horror for me now. It’s in your soul; that the true distortion lies...”

John snorted a little, finding humor in the fact that they were still singing, but quickly shut up when Erik turned his head towards the noise. It was too late, far far far too late. He smirked mischievously.

“Wait, my dear, I think we have some guests!” He switched from singing to talking.

Her eyes followed his gaze, spotting Tommy, John, and Arthur. “Tommy!” She moved forward. Tommy mirrored her and pressed himself against the portcullis.

“Sir. Or shall I say, sirs. This is indeed, an unparalleled delight! I had rather hoped that you,” he made eye contact with Tommy, “that you would come!” Erik walked down the steps, next to Y/n. “And now, my wish comes true.” He pulled Y/n into her side. Tommy flinched upon hearing and seeing Y/n’s panic caused by Erik’s actions. “You have truly made my night.”

“Let me go-”

Everything broke from Tommy’s head. It was purely in the moment. For once he was acting with his heart, rather than his brain. “Free her!” Y/n stopped and looked to him with confusion, opposite to Erik’s looks of amusement. “Do to me whatever you would like, but please! Free her!”

“Your lover makes a passionate plea.”

“Please- Tommy... it’s useless...”

“Tom! She’s right, we can’t do anything with this stupid thing in the way.” Arthur grumbled.

“I love her!” He was speaking to everyone. From the heart. “Does that mean nothing? I love her! Show some compassion-”

“The world showed no compassion to me!” The brothers and Y/n faced Erik, small signs of empathy for the red and ruined side of his face.

“Y/n. Y/n, let me see her. Let me fucking see her!” Tommy kicked the portcullis harshly, showing his demand was not to be taken as a joke.

“Be my guest, sir.” Erik smirked wider and walked to a lever. He pulled it and the portcullis began moving upwards. Before he could say more, Tommy fired random shots. He could careless if he hit The Phantom or missed, his mission was to get Y/n and then skedaddle the fuck out of there.

John and Arthur exchanged glances and nods, joining Tommy in open fire towards the man.

Tommy reached Y/n, pausing and pressing a kiss to her soft lips, closing his eyes and melting into their short kiss. After the separated, he picked her up, one arm under her knees and the other somewhere above her waist. He nodded to her. Her arms wrapped around his neck.

“John! Arthur! Cease fire! I repeat! Cease fire!”

Erik chuckled madly, “Aren’t you going to finish me?” He looked at Arthur, then his gun. “Kill me!”

Arthur raised his gun. Aimed. Inhaled.

“Stop! Don’t kill him! Let him be... please...” Y/n faced Tommy with watery eyes, “let me down for a second, please.” Thomas hesitated, but followed the orders of his significant other. She kissed him once more, then walked to Erik and shooed the brothers away from him.

“W-what’re you doing!? Y/n! T-Tom, she’s gonna get hers-”

“Leave it Arthur. Y/n knows what she’s doing. I hope.” Tommy mumbled the last sentence under his breath.

They watched as Y/n caressed the cheek of the scared side to Erik’s face, her face scrunching with visible focus. She pulled him down to her, rested her forehead against his and whispered to him.

“Angel of music... thank you for this journey... Alas, twasn’t I that was destined to join you on it.” John shouted for her to hurry, the sound of the coppers growing near. “Run, dear Phantom, run and don’t ever look back. One day the world will except you...you just can’t force it.”

Y/n reached for his hand, opening it and placing his ring in it, then folding it shut, just as he did to her hand. He smiled at her. He finally surrendered.

Tommy walked up to them, causing Erik to move back a bit. Tom stopped in front of the man and handed him a large amount of money, smiling with a heart full of sympathy. “Run, Phantom. As far as the coppers know, you’re dead. My uncle will have a boat, board it if you’d like. Start a new life.”

The Phantom nodded, taking the money. But. He paused. “Go. Be free, my Angel of Music. You’ve shown me nothing but kindness and care, and I thank you for that.” The unfamiliar voices neared. Erik’s eyes widened, “Hurry! Leave! Go!”

Tommy grabbed Y/n, pulling her with him as they headed into the water and tried to ran through it. Y/n turned her head, giving Erik one last look, giving him one last nod, and smiling to him for the last time. They ran out the burning theater, Moss interviewed her, writers for news companies chased after her, but everyone was shooed away by her family.

At home, Tommy cradled Y/n’s cheeks, looking deeply into her eyes. “I thought I lost you...”

“Well I’m here, aren’t I?” She leaned forward, mumbling against his lips, “I missed you... I love you so much Tommy.”

Tommy closed the cap between them, staying for a few minutes. Peaceful. Quiet. Still in his suit and her in the wedding gown she was forced into. “I love you too, Y/n. Very much... Maybe this dress could do some use for us. Eh?”

134 notes · View notes

masked-buffoon · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 9: Scheming anew (Part 2)

Warnings: none

Author notes: I had so much fun writing the interaction between Ogawa and our one and only Kunikida...! They really are opposite and it felt good writing something lighter...! Hope you like it too!

As he was unconscious, I untied the ropes around my wrists and used them to tie him down, before rushing toward the room I rented without being seen by the policemen. I had escaped, but I was now a fugitive who had raised a hand against an inspector... It could have been better, but I would have been condemned to death for killing someone if things had kept going. Swiftly, I locked the door and pulled out the box of syringes to take one and inject the drug in my vein, hoping its effects would relieve me soon. Then, I removed a wooden plank from the floor and pulled out hidden magazines for my guns. I had hidden them, judging unnecessary to use them, but they could be useful at this very moment. I would not hesitate to shoot to preserve this freedom I had acquired after running from the Port Mafia.

Soon enough, the door to my room trembled and the voice of this annoying man echoed through the wood. He was asking me to surrender, so we could perhaps negotiate my judgement for the trial, but I did not need such a thing. I was innocent, and I would prove it. Gathering my strength, I climbed through the window and reached the neighbouring one. The policemen had taken their break and the room was empty, with only the woman's body left alone in its original position. I examined it immediately, surprised they had not taken it out for an autopsy, but then again, policemen were incompetent. I looked around the room, hoping to find something — anything — which could help me solve this murder case. Through the thin walls between the two rooms, I heard that they successfully entered my place and were more likely looking for me or proof of my guilt. Except the box of syringes which could be mistaken as drugs, I had nothing to hide. They would tire themselves trying to find hints which did not exist. I frowned and took a minute to think. No trace of aggression... The weapon could be either an ability or poison. If an ability user powerful enough could kill someone without raving a single trace, then the government would certainly be after him and there was no way he could be involved with this rather insignificant case. Which left the poisoning option. Except by doing an autopsy, I could not determine which substance had killed this woman nor how it had been administered. Nevertheless, I did recall that the struggling had stopped at once, as if she had been knocked out suddenly. I had not heard any grunts or whimpers from someone being forcefully shoved something into their mouth would emit, meaning the poison had been given externally. I chuckled, running a hand through my messily tied hair. A syringe was the most plausible option, and I was quite knowledgeable about them. The victim was wearing a sleeveless top; she could have been attacked around her arms. Carefully, I kneeled next to her and examined her skin. There it was, the small wound caused by the needle carelessly planted into her skin. The blood had stopped circulating so the haemorrhage was now barely visible, but it was there. With some luck, she would have struggled so much that the murderers could have lost the syringe... I closed the curtains and turned off the light, before pulling out my phone and tapping on the torch application. If the needle was still in the room, the faint light would make it shine. It did. I picked the clue up with a handkerchief not to dirty it with my fingerprints, between two planks of wood, and decided to leave the room. I had everything I needed.

"Anything interesting in there?" I casually leaned onto the door frame of my own room, staring as the blonde man was looking everywhere.

"Y-You...! How...?" His eyes widened and he stomped toward me.

I dodged him as he tried to catch my wrist and placed the handkerchief with the needle in his palm.

"While you were pointlessly trying to accuse me, I was looking for useful clues on the crime scene. The victim was poisoned. The weapon is a syringe." I stated "Do you believe I'm innocent, now?"

"I did find a box full of syringes under your bed. Doesn't that prove you're the culprit?" He narrowed his eyes "Not to mention you got me good there... It'll ache for a week at least..."

I scoffed as he rubbed his neck painfully.

"Consider yourself lucky I did not use a gun." I shrugged it off "Your colleges did not even check if I was carrying firearms. Anyway, I —"

"Do you?"

"Eh?"

"Do you carry any firearm?" He groaned.

"I do." I looked blankly at him "May I keep proving I am not the murderer?"

"... Go on..." He gave up "We're at a loss for clues anyway. If only Ranpo-san was there..."

"Well..." I cleared my throat "What you found in my room is morphine. I am sick and I may or may not use medication excessively... Whatever, the point is, an overdose of morphine would cause respiratory depression, which the victim did not suffer from. I was a witness. She was struggling, then suddenly fell to the floor. Morphine would not do that. I believe there was something else in the needle you're holding, but I'll leave that to the lab. There could be countless possibilities of poisons..."

"You sound well-versed in such shady business..." He became suspicious again.

"I do not belong to your world, after all..." I smirked "I have to admit the method to kill the woman is intelligent and soundless. If it were me, I would have most certainly shot her between her eyes... Ah, but I would have taken my gun silencer, of course. To sum it up, I'm not the one you're looking for, glassy."

"... Glassy...?" He raised an eyebrow "Why, I admit your explanations are logical but... Are you sure you aren't giving me a reason to arrest you? You do carry firearms and you sound like a hitman..."

"A hitman...? That's too glorious a name for me." I chucked "I am a forgotten human of the underworld, you should not meddle too much with me. As long as you don't arrest me, I will let you off. And, you owe me one for helping you with the case, anyway."

"Let's say I owe you one. Would you trust my words if I said I would not arrest you?"

"Obviously not." I grinned "That is, if I could not accurately read your mind. I'm a monster, an ability user who can hear your thoughts as though you were speaking at loud. Will you arrest me?"

"The law says I must. Thus..." He showed me a pair of handcuffs "Surrender, please."

"You're a man of words. You do as you think." I told him "It's rare to see people as honest as you nowadays... However, this honesty of yours will be your very end..."

"I want to do my job with peace of mind." He defended "I arrest you, not because I have something against you but because you did illegal things. Do not think I am being ungrateful."

"Oh, I don't think so." I shook my head "What you do is right. But I haven't grown in righteousness."

As these words escaped my throat, I swiftly ran past him into my room and reached out for the balcony.

"I will not let you arrest me. Now..." I pulled out a gun and aimed at him "Hands up and face toward the wall."

The man reluctantly complied, but I was in a superior position and, unless reinforcements were to come, I was sure to win.

"Farewell, glassy~" I hummed, escaping through the balcony.

I stayed a moment, holding onto the edge, until I heard his footsteps hurrying out of the room. When I was sure he had exited it, I climbed back inside and simply walked toward the staircases, heading toward the roof where he would not find me. This man was too idealistic. He was too honest, too. To easily be fooled by my little trick... I had never hoped he would fall for it, but well... At least, he had stayed true to himself and had respected the law as his ideals ordered him. I leaned onto the fence, looking at the alley beneath me. The man was running around, trying to look at me, but it was to no use since I was just above his head.

"Well, he'll just give up sooner or later." I shrugged it off, putting my gun back into the holster "And I'll be able to rest in peace..."

I smiled at my pun and sat down on the roof, pulling a box of pain relievers out of my pocket. I would simply wait for the police to leave before regaining my room and the dirty bed, where I would lay and go back to my routine of drugs until I could finally die.

"There is no way you can rest in peace in such a substandard room." One noted, sitting next to me "Why do you always choose such shabby places?"

"Um..." I did not realise someone was talking to me "Money issues? If I'm going to die, I won't spend much on my living expenses, anyway. So —"

I stopped myself and stared at the one next to me. It had felt so natural… I had not noticed.

"What are you doing here, Dazai...?" I almost breathed out, strength leaving my limbs suddenly.

"I escaped from Kunikida-kun to slack off freely~" He explained "You tricked him well. Did not expect you to hit him with a chair either~"

"I care about this illusion of freedom too much to go to jail." I answered "What I meant was, what is the reason for your presence here?"

"Well..." He pulled out a cigarette "Do you mind?"

I shook my head. He lit it up and brought it to his mouth. The way he smoked differed from Chūya's, in that his fingers were more slender and his movements more graceful. I had only seen him a couple of times with a cigarette, when, sometimes, the burdens of his heart had been too much to bear. He exhaled, and the little smoke cloud faded in the cool air of the ending afternoon.

"I came for the murder, with my colleague, Kunikida-kun." He explained.

"Are you with the police, now?" I raised an eyebrow, surprised.

"No no...!" He laughed "No way...! Too many rules for me..."

"But you do work for the government now..." I sighed "Did you know I was there, in that one hostel of Yokohama where a young woman died?"

"I did not." My former superior confessed "I had no idea you would be there... Or I would have come earlier."

"Is that so..." I felt moved by his words "I'm glad..."

"Ogawa... I need you to tell me something..." He asked me.

"What is it...? Is it related to the murder or anything...?"

"Not at all. I heard you found out. No, I need you to tell me... How is the sunset, this evening?"

I looked at the sun falling behind the skyscrapers of Yokohama. I frowned.

"Are you trying to hold onto life?"

"That's not what you think —"

"I don't think it's a bad thing." I cut him "But I... Am no longer able to describe the beauty of the sunset I once could see from the Mafia headquarters... All I see from there is a ball of white light disappearing in a greyish sky. And such a sight isn't beautiful, is it? It isn't what you want me to show you..."

"It is, indeed, not what I wanted you to tell me..." Dazai looked away "I did not think you would come to lose your colours..."

"You had predicted it." I reminded him.

"I did not want it to happen." He said, more curtly "I did not want you, out of everyone, not to be able to see the colours you liked anymore..."

"Without you by my side, they became completely useless... I had no one to paint the sky for anymore..."

"Why don't you just allow me to take you with me again...? You are stubborn Ogawa, but I don't want this stubbornness to kill you." He told me.

"I choose to die." I retorted "Just like you endlessly try to commit suicide, I let myself die."

"I don't want you to die."

"... You're pretty selfish."

"I'll take responsibility for it."

"The thing is..." I sighed "I do not want to live in fear to lose you again if I choose to come back to your side."

"That's logical that you want to avoid suffering... It's a human reaction." He commented.

"Isn't it...? But those are matters I have long discarded now..."

"What keeps you from coming with me, then?" He insisted.

"I..." I lowered my head "I can't say..."

I could not admit I felt too shameful as a person to ever be able to stand by his side again. I had left the Port Mafia to be with him, yet I was too weak. Even if he granted me sleep, even if he said he cared about me, I was aware it was not meant to last forever. If Dazai was determined to strive and hold onto life, there would come a day when he would meet someone who would support him and whom he would open his heart to. When this day would come, he would not want to give me sleep every night anymore, and I would end up discarded another time, and I would die. I would rather leave the world at this very moment than hoping again that I could live a few more years with him. I would have less regrets...

"Ah, so..." He murmured, throwing his cigarette on the ground and crushing it with his heel "I still wish you would be with me, though... I... Feel so empty... Without you around... I feel so lonely as well... Odasaku is gone, so is Ango... You were the only one remaining, yet I was not able to keep you with me... I am aware everything is my fault, yet I still hope I could have you back, somehow..."

"And I am aware that I made a promise..." I glanced at him "But you were the one who broke it... How would you expect me to be with you if you did not allow me near you...? I could not understand, and so, I stopped waiting..."

"I know..." His fingers barely brushed against mine "I am a stupid coward... That, you surely know..."

"You cannot always hide behind cowardice... You must face the consequences of your actions if you made the wrong decision... Dazai, I have to admit that, right now, I don't really want to die..." I confessed "Rather, I want to open my eyes again onto a colourful world, and you are the only one who can return those colours to me... Just tonight... Will you cancel my ability...?"

"You need not ask, Ogawa... I will definitely cancel your ability, tonight, tomorrow and the following day too, if you demand so. I won't let you die..." He assured me.

"I know you won't..." I smiled "You won't, as long as I am there. If I were to leave this cheap hostel, would you try to find me...? That, I cannot be sure... You have not made a single move toward me since last time, what am I supposed to think?"

"I thought you would make the move... I didn't know you would leave the Port Mafia..."

"Are you sure...? You did not know...?" I raised an eyebrow.

"... Perhaps I did suppose you would..."

"That's my point." I shrugged, standing up "But, to be honest, I really, really wish I could come back to your side... But I..."

I stopped, and shook my head.

"Let's go back inside... We may talk again tomorrow, if you do come back..." I told him.

"Tomorrow." He walked toward the door "We'll come back. The murder case isn't over yet."

"The culprits have yet to be caught, after all." I agreed "But I do hope you'll find them soon."

"Heh~ Do you desperately want me to leave you alone~?"

"Not at all... But I was tied up because of them, they must pay for involving me." I stated simply.

"I suppose I owe you this, at least." He chucked "I like seeing this side of you better."

"To be fairly honest, I'm glad to talk to you again." I looked at him with a smile "And in all objectivity, you already know I will choose to come back after a moment. Why are you even worried?"

"Because I genuinely want you to come back... And I am also sincerely afraid that you die before reaching my side again. I fear that I will lose you forever, too..."

I admired him for being able to admit his feelings to me. In a way, it meant he cared about me enough to show his true face, he who had always hidden behind a mask of joviality. I hoped he would drop his mask more often around me, and tell me about his issues, but I was aware I could not ask so much so soon. With time, perhaps... Perhaps we would come to become real friends.

#bsd #bsd oc #bsd fanfic #bsd dazai #bsd imagines #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs oc #dazai osamu #kunikida doppo #bsd kunikida

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