#anyway school has been eating me alive for the last month and i fear it will remain that way until..... may at least | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

uglygirlstatus · 1 year ago

Note

Curious to see how you’d rank every Riverdale musical episode

this ask has been in my inbox for months because I could not make up my mind whatsoever and had to rewatch all musical eps 2x each to decide.

Splitting rankings into categories for my own sake: Songs (ranked on both quality and integration), Plot (entertainment value of the storyline points featured), and Iconry (ratio of special/memorable/iconic lines and scenes)

#6. American Psycho

Songs ⭐️⭐️

Plot ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Iconry ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I remember somehow being underwhelmed when I first watched this because I had really hyped myself up after reading the episode description. But now in a post-50sdale world, I realize how lucky we were with this one. We got SlaughterCon, Cheryl and Kevin hexing Toni and Fangs, Betty being gay, Kevin not warning Betty in advance that he added a bit to his musical number where Doctor Curdle Jr dresses as TBK and then getting visibly annoyed with her when she interrupts it fearing for his life, Betty finally killing TBK and he’s literally just wrapped in duct tape and garbage bags, AS WELL AS Archie’s Labour Union all in one episode. However, since this IS a ranking of musical episodes, I’m afraid I can’t let the incredible plot compensate too much for the lack of strong musical bangers.

Stand out lines:

“It’s your dad’s knife. I bought it on eSlay.”

“Betty Cooper, are you hot for agent Drake?”

“You’re one of us. An American Psycho.”

Not a line but shoutout to Lili Reinhart’s boobs in You Are What You Wear.

#5. Carrie

Songs ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Plot ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Iconry ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Cheryls heavily autotuned explosion into “THATS NOT MY NAAAAAAAME” will forever tickle me. And her finale drenching herself in blood and coming to her mother with the candelabra to threaten burning down their mansion for a second time is one of the top ten Cheryl Blossom moments for all time. Everything about the presence of Alice Cooper also kills me like she is IN this high school musical. Madchen I could listen to pitch correction software fighting for its life against your dulcet tones forever. I read in a Twitter thread by the duo who produces all the Riverdale music that Madchen had literally never sung in her entire life prior to this episode. And they still gave her a solo. Amazing. The plot doesn’t carry as much weight for me in this one but the I love the integration of the music, and it also gave us the first ever Beronica duet and Fifi appearance. Oh and rip Midge!

Stand Out Lines:

“I will not succumb to thespian terrorism!”

“I’m not the same girl who burned down Thornhill.” “Sure you are!”

“Nightmare child, what do you want from me?!”

#4. Next to Normal

Songs ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Plot ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Iconry ⭐️⭐️

This one has real emotional impact okay. It was genuinely moving. I love when the musical episodes tackle a huge range of plot lines and still try to apply the niche musical choice of the season to each of them. We have Cooper grieving & family choreography and spite-Jabitha and Cheryl attacking her mother with song & holy water and Varchie being useless and Britta becoming Cheryl’s little child servant/protege. Reggie is there too. Also all of the music hits for real. It’s a shame that “I Am The One” and “I’m Alive” had so much cut in the ep because the spectres of Polly and Charles are killing it on the harmonies in the full versions. I could listen to Lili Reinhart sing all day long. Above all though I think my favourite part is the uncanny photoshop of Alice and Betty and Polly in front of the Next to Normal Broadway poster.

Stand Out Lines:

“YOU’VE GOT SOME NERVE JUGHEAD, AND I’M JUST ALL NERVES!”

“I’m gonna eat in the garage.”

“You remind me of Hiram Lodge.” “I don’t know who that is. But please, have a Swelligrino for the road.”

#3. Heathers

Songs ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Plot ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Iconry ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Guys It’s so crazy that Midge literally died in the middle of our musical last year. Anyway time for Heathers! Something fun about this episode is that I first watched it before I was fully Riverdalepilled and was still foolishly rolling my eyes at the show while I watched with my mom and sister. I was like “guys Heathers is actually a great musical, it’s going to be hard for me to see what Riverdale does to it”. We began watching and very soon my mom and sister were commenting on the music. It quickly dawned on me that they were complaining about the aspects of the show that were more or less unchanged from the original musical. And I had a great epiphany moment where I realized 1) Heathers is sort of bad 2) if I loved Heathers the musical in earnest then why should I not love Riverdale? Heathers was actually PERFECTLY CRAFTED to be performed by the Riverdale cast. Anyway. This episode had a lot going for it. Lodge divorce arc straight into Veronica partying. Kevin’s sudden perm. Toni’s threesome fake out. Our favourite Chad Michael Murray Rhythmic cult clapping. And of course KJ Apa doing this

Stand Out Lines

“Did you have a lobotomy for breakfast?”

“Here I invented red. I AM red. *snaps*”

“Evelyn called a closed rehearsal for select members in the Gargoyle Chamber.”

#2. Archie the Musical

Songs ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Plot ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Iconry ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This one had EVERYTHINGGGGGGGG. Fun with the meta narrative and original songs mixed with covers taken from various obscure and specific sources and by far some of the most fun choreography and sets of all musical episodes since they were able to be so free with it. Seeing Gay Kevin back in his natural habitat of directing the school musical was so heartwarming. Jughead and Reggie quitting immediately. Archie going left. And Archie going right. Bisexually. Julian demolishing Archie vocally every chance he gets. And knowing it. Also every single facial expression and mannerism that Julian has in this episode is god tier. Actually kj apa too. Actually also Lili and Camilla. SANDWICH? The loudest in-song sound effects we’ve ever experienced. Archie the happiest he’s ever been in his life on the back of Toni’s bike. BERONICA - PRIMAL AND INTENSE! My review is barely coherent because this one does fill me with silly giddy joy. Plot loses a star because how the hell are we expected to care about Gay Kevin’s divorcing parents. I know “ohh suffering isn’t a competition ohhh” Ethel just watched her parents get murdered by a milkman and no one sang for her.

Stand Out Lines:

“I don’t wanna be a drip, but it’s super distracting when my understudy is singing literally at the same time as me!”

“You completely captured the longing of being in a queer, interracial relationship in the 1950s.”

“Maybe there are other more emotionally complex mountains to climb.”

“The new Archie, Julian, he’s even better than the real Archie!”

#1. Hedwig and the Angry Inch

Songs ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Plot ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Iconry ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

On a 9 hour flight to Europe in the Summer I had all the Riverdale musical eps downloaded to rewatch and then noticed that among the plane’s complimentary movie selections was the original movie of Hedwig and the Angry Inch, which was pure kismet. I decided to watch the movie for the first time prior to rewatching the Riverdale ep and I was blown away. Knowing the context of all the songs and musical they chose to include in the episode made everything so much more insane. The song about feeling like a stranger in your body after surgical malpractice being used for the Bughead conflict over Juggie prioritizing mysteries over finishing high school and Varchie conflict over Archie not telling Veronica about her dad’s epic fail at the gym. 20? something year old gay Kevin proclaiming WE ARE GENERATION Z before jumping into Random Number Generation. The BIZARRELY spliced version of the best ever rendition of Origin of Love all for BARCHIE FODDER?!? Actually all the rest of the songs were perfectly fitting no notes. Anyway hallway full of students in Hedwig drag one of the top Riverdale shots ever though I forever mourn KJ Apa’s absence. At least he got to kiss a man in this one. The plane hit turbulence while I watching the Midnight Radio scene but I was so happy witnessing it in that moment that I thought to myself “it would be ok if I died right now”.

Stand Out Lines:

“Writing a book report? Now I know how Sisyphus must have felt.”

“It celebrates identities, genders, expressions of all kinds.”

“[scoffs] How queer-phobic of you.”

“There’s a problem that comes once you get caught up on your homework. Your mind wanders and evil creeps back in.”

I was convinced Archie the Musical would come out on top for me due to the obscene level of euphoria I felt upon first experiencing it but after intensive review I do have to say Hedwig wins. Ultimately I miss the original timeline that much and I am all for the events that eventually tear apart everyone’s relationships and most of all it gave us Origin of Love full version Riverdale cast edition. But know that it is so so so so so close between the two. And honestly really all 6 are close in my heart as this exercise reminded me just how much the musical episodes are to watch and rewatch.

#idk why I treated this like a life or death question #riverdale #t #ask #riverdale musical ranking #long post

58 notes · View notes

mysticalibra1994 · 2 years ago

Text

TBHK Headcanon #1 "Death Day"(?)

Yes, you've read that right; "Death Day", as in "Birth Day" but on the day you died.

So, I haven't read the manga in so long (I only made it to Hanako-kun being reunited in a "drawn world"), but I don't really mind spoilers. Anyways, all I know so far is that Hanako-kun killed his brother even though his brother (in a child form) has been gone by making a wish for him to get better. Since their world is different from the "surface" or living world, I wondered if any of the supernatural (the ones that used to be human (the "currently living ones" don't count... I think)) spirits ever had a "Death Day"?

Like, on a certain day (aka the day they died) they would reenact or relive (pun intended) how they died.

Example #1: Mitsuba Sousuke. According to his mother, he died from an accident on the way to the store for some potatoes for the curry (or stew). I know that the spirit of the real Mitsuba is gone, but I'm guessing that the clone of Mitsuba's spirit would have a small sliver of deja-vu (or dead-ja-vu) that even Tsukasa doesn't even understand (it would even baffle and/or traumatize Kou; having to see the clone of a spirit of your dead friend being hit head-on...

Exmple #2: Yugi Amane (aka Hanako-kun). Ever since I heard about a wish that Tsukasa made for his brother's illness, I couldn't help but wonder if Amane knew that his days were numbered after killing his brother? That could explain why he gave up his moon rock to his teacher. Here's how I believe it went down...

Amane was constantly getting injuries, but not from getting bullied, it was from the inside... He could feel his body weakening but feared dying (who wouldn't, right?). That is until he met Yashiro Nene (via The Tea Party arc). Thanks to that one moment, he's no longer afraid anymore... After getting patched up by his teacher, he gave up his moon rock ("I made a decision that I'm not going anywhere..."). The next day was his last day of school (literally), so he wrote his teacher a letter that simply stated...

"To whom it may concern, There is a reason behind my injuries. When I was a little kid, I had a respiratory illness with little cure. My twin brother made a wish for me to get better, only to trade for his soul. All that was left of him was nothing but a husk. As much as I love my brother, the guilt was eating me alive, so I did the unthinkable... Ever since my body has been getting weaker and weaker, and I've been getting these injuries. Tsuchigomori-sensei, I hope you got a display case for that moon rock. Thank you for everything. If my parents wonder about my whereabouts, tell them my brother's no longer alone..."

By the time Tsuchigomori-sensei read the letter, it was too late. Amane is no longer alive anymore... However, this never stopped his teacher from trying desperately to revive the poor kid. He continued, despite how sore his arms were and what the paramedics sadly told him otherwise.

Suddenly, Tsuchigomori's eyes were getting blurrier and blurrier with tears. By the time he felt a cold tiny hand on his left shoulder, he slowly stops the chest compressions. Then, as they wheeled him off, he just stood there, dumbstruck. Wait, he pondered, why was I crying? As a teacher, he shouldn't show/have any favorites when it comes to students, but he does did.

Example #3: Tsuchigomori-sensei. About several months after Amane's death, Tsuchigomori's curiosity about Amane's future increased to the point where he checked out Amane's book from the 4 PM Library. He wanted to know why Amane had an interest in going to the moon. I mean, sure it was an impossible dream. But, that was before men landed on the moon. As he got to the part where it stated that Amane was going to be a Science teacher and was going to be his kouhai, his smile went from a smirk to a frown to a tearful grimace. "That brat... He was too young to..." He was so distraught to even finish that sentence.

After going outside from school for some fresh air (and a pack of cigarettes), he accidentally (and unfortunately) came across a redback spider. Granted, the fatality of its venom is rare, but in Tsuchigomori's case, it was fatal; to the point where not even the world's most excellent doctors (at the time) couldn't even save him...

About several more months go by, Tsuchigomori's eyes open up after hearing a familiar voice...

"Hey there, stranger! What's up? I mean, besides us."

Example #4: My OC (Fujimura Saki).

TW: mentions "unaliving one's self".

This one is not just heavy to read, but is also personal to some (if not, most).

Despite having only one friendly teacher and one good friend/crush, Saki has felt as if she's been cursed to be targeted for bullying, to the point where she couldn't handle it anymore!

Yes, she did go up to the roof. But, she "made a wish" from a mysterious black flower...

Before she, you know... She was given 24 hours to say her final goodbyes to those who deserve it; just those two nice people in her life.

At first, they were confused. But, by the time they knew what she meant, it continued where they were left off; witnessing a horrible sight from the classroom window. The paramedics did everything they could but to no avail.

She was gone, but not forgotten; thanks to the altar table that her nice teacher made for her honor. Her best friend/crush decorates it with her portrait, white lilies in a vase, a sketchbook and pencils, and her favorite food and/or beverage.

I wish I could say more for the 4th example, but it would be a spoiler for the Gacha Club comic. But, just like the original story, it's a comedy, drama, and tragedy.

Well, I hope everyone enjoys reading this headcanon. I'm sorry for how depressing it sounds, but then again... The plot does contain parts about the supernatural and the concept of life and death, so...

#tbhk #oc #headcanon #TBHK headcanons

4 notes · View notes

caker-baker · 3 years ago

Text

Of Convenience

The protagonist was sometimes asked if they were married. They would always say no. There was no point in the whole truth.

To be fair, they were young, in college, and both them and their spouse figured being married would make things just a bit easier with money.

So, marriage. Totally platonic marriage between two broke best friends that was meant to last only through the end of their schooling.

Then their spouse disappeared, and stayed disappeared for ten years.

Legally, the protagonist wasn’t even married anymore, they never lied when they said they weren’t married. How could someone be married to a presumed dead person?

Sometimes they felt guilty. All the mourning for their best friend had been done with, and they weren’t by any means in love with them in the traditional way one would love their spouse, but it never stopped the protagonist from feeling bad.

Bad about moving on with their life. Bad about this date.

But it had been ten years, and the protagonist reasoned their best friend, wherever they were, would be happy for them.

It was supposed to be at a nice place, this date. A traditionally formal restaurant, one with valets. The protagonist enjoyed that. They didn’t always have the time for nice outings.

It was also relatively public, a little ways away from the heart of the city, close enough to home in case things took a turn for the worse.

But that was just a what if. Their friend gave this blind date a glowing review.

The bad feeling still ate away at the protagonist. Not for their possibly dead spouse, but for the lack of knowing. They didn’t know this person, and sure, the goal was to get to know them, but there was no basis for anything.

Regardless, it was going to be a nice night out with a nice meal in their nice clothes. All thoughts the protagonist had to remind themselves of as they watched the valet take their car away.

The door closed behind them, and the protagonist jumped.

Online, the place looked lively, warm. This was empty, abandoned of all people.

The tables and chairs and lights were all there. Lovely centerpieces of flowers and candles decorated empty spaces. No chatter filled the room, no host stood at the front, and most notably, no date.

It was all under a second the protagonist was able to observe these factors, and took less than three to turn and push on the door that wouldn’t budge.

“It locks electronically.”

For the second time that night, the protagonist jumped.

“How wonderfully modern.” They said, not taking their hand off the door.

“Wonderfully.” The faceless voice agreed. “Wouldn’t you like to sit?”

“Actually, I think I was just about to leave.”

“What about your date?”

The protagonist turned, and nearly screamed.

They thought they could deal with a regular person in this irregular situation. However, dealing with a villain was much, much different.

“Funny enough,” the protagonist managed “I’m beginning to think they stood me up.”

“Oh?” The villain grinned, sitting slowly at one of the tables. “What makes you so sure?”

“It’s been a few minutes since the agreed upon time.”

This was wrong. Talking with a villain while waiting for help.

What help? No alarms were triggered. There’s no sign of a villain being here at all. No hero would have any clue of potential danger.

“Still.” The villain moved their eyes to the chair opposite them. “You should sit.”

At this point, the protagonist was only conscious through fear and adrenaline, so, they moved to the chair, and sat.

“Now, forgive me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you married?” The villain said, leaning forward to rest their chin in their hand.

“I-” Two more people came out then, trays in hand, and all the protagonist could do was watch as they set them down, and left wordlessly. “I- what?”

“Well,” the villain started again, lifting the lid to their tray. “I could have sworn you had a spouse. Yet here you are, waiting for a,” they sucked air in through their teeth, a harsh sign of disapproval. “date.”

“What an unlucky bastard my spouse is, huh?” The protagonist felt dizzy.

“Oh, surely.” The villain’s eyes looked as if they darkened. “I’m glad, at least, corporate life hasn’t knocked the humor out of you.”

What?

“No, just all my free time.”

“Still free enough to try for a date.” The villain looked at them with a matter of fact stare, something the protagonist had been on the receiving end of before.

It was a stare their best friend, their spouse had mastered.

It was the same stare the villain was giving them now.

It was the same eye color the protagonist used to know well.

It was…

Oh.

“There they are.” The villain - or rather, their presumed dead best friend, their spouse - looked amused, and leaned back in the chair. “I knew you were smarter than that.”

“But you-”

Oh, God.

“You vanished.” The protagonist whispered.

“And you never even looked for me.”

“Looked for you?” The protagonist repeated in disbelief.

“I’m only teasing, love. I didn’t leave a single trace. No one could have found me.”

The protagonist stood. “And now you’re a villain.”

“Mm. I prefer goal-oriented entrepreneur.”

“You’re a villain!”

“If you insist. You are really going to let the foie gras go to waste if you don’t eat.”

“You’ve been alive this whole time! You’re perfectly fine!” The protagonist sat again, lowering their voice. “We had a funeral for you. We mourned you. The police could only assume you died.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, love. I didn’t realize my disappearance would upset you so.”

The protagonist slammed their hands on the table. “You were my best friend! We got married.”

“I know, I was there.” The villain held up their hand, the old, cheap ring still on their finger. “Bringing me back to my point. Why go on a date?”

For a brief moment, the protagonist had to wonder if they were the crazy one for not seeing the villain’s side of things.

“Why was I trying to go on a date ten years after you left?” They spoke slowly, still trying to decipher if there was something strange about it.

“We both know it wasn’t just the one date. Maybe the first one in a while, but-”

“Have you been watching me?”

“No more than I need to. You’re my spouse, Protagonist.”

“It was a marriage of convenience. Neither of us really ever…and legally, no, we aren’t married. You can’t be married to a dead person.”

The villain let out a single scoff. “You’re not dead, and I’m still very much married to you.”

“That’s not-”

“Point being, Protagonist, I got tired of watching these people come in and out of your life.”

“And you get to do the exact same thing, is that it?”

“Absolutely not.” The villain scowled. “What kind of a person do you take me for anyways?”

“The kind who disappears for ten years without a call or even a postcard!”

The villain at least had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “Touché.”

The protagonist’s tone turned less angry, and more serious. “I’ve seen you online. The news.”

“Ah.” The villain let a look of annoyance pass over their face. “Most people have, love.”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t go running to the closest person I could find to tell them about you? I know your identity now. There’s someone to find and blame for the things you’ve done.”

“I do have your car.”

Stupid valets.

“And, really, love. Do you know me? My civilian self has dropped off the face of the earth.”

The protagonist felt a chill up their spine, but the villain was just getting started.

“You also seem to be forgetting I’m the one who kept on eye on you. I know you. For better or for worse, I know you. How it’s only six blocks to home, how you visit your parents and sister every other month. She’s sixteen now, right? How you meet up with my parents every anniversary of my disappearance, and how you manage to avoid telling everyone who asks that you are indeed committed to someone.”

“What do you want?” The protagonist spat.

“Other than your company?” The villain tapped a finger to their lips in faux thought. “Now that you mention it, that cushy corporate job of yours has a hold on some valuable assets of mine. And believe me, love, it’s honestly something they wouldn’t want to get too deep in.”

“You’ve been watching me this entire time just to threaten me? Because of my job?”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, love. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not threatening you. I adore your family, and I would never hurt you. You know that right?”

“Do I?”

“Mm.” The villain tilted their head to the side. “Tell you what, love. You don’t even have to do any of the corporate espionage. You just have to give me your boss’ number. I can go from there.”

The protagonist found themselves shaking.“Why are you doing this?”

“I couldn’t think of a better reason to stay in your life than to bring a little chaos.”

398 notes · View notes

redrobin-detective · 4 years ago

Text

The 101 Deaths of Danny Phantom

AO3 link

One of the first things people learned about dealing with ghosts, other than not to try and date them, is to never asks about their death or obsessions. That doesn’t mean the citizens of Amity Park aren’t curious though, especially about their resident ghostly hero and the confusing and concerning comments he sometimes makes.

“Are you okay?” Phantom asked Maisie as she shook and tried to hold back tears after that car had almost slammed into her. She sometimes joked about getting hit crossing the street of her college campus to pay her obnoxious loans but it was another thing entirely to almost experience it herself. Maisie was nearly twenty, she shouldn’t be comforted by someone younger than her little step sister but here she was, shaking like a lead and leaning into Phantom’s comforting, chilly touch.

“Sorry,” she stuttered, “thank you, I’m sorry I’m just-”

“Hey, it’s okay to be upset that was very scary. The thought of dying is very scary.” Through her adrenaline and her tears, she took in the ghost’s unnatural glow, his faded, barely visible appearance and the fact that he was floating a foot off the ground. Maisie knows this ghost, this boy, knows more than she ever could about death.

“And getting run over by a car sure is a bad way to go,” the ghost kid chuckled awkwardly, taking his cold hand off her shoulder to scratch at the back of his neck. “You should see how my dad drives or my mom or my sister if she’s running late enough,” Phantom paused in thought. “No one in my family should have a license now that I think about it. Anyway,” he dismissed with a wave.

“My sister and I were getting ready to head out to school and my dad was backing out of driveway too fast and didn’t see us and uh, luckily I got my sister out of the way in time haha,” Phantom trailed off awkwardly. Was it because of the uncomfortable conversation or because he noticed her dawning horror.

Her best friend ran the community college’s Phan club so Maisie was a member by default. Phantom’s death was sometimes talked about late at night, everything from wrongful murder to a freak accident. She never in her worst nightmares imagined being him being runover in front of his own house by parental ignorance. It was so normal, a quick mistake and a life lost.

“Oh my god,” he said with an adorable little green blush. “Why am I babbling about that? You almost got hit by a car, I’m probably retraumatizing you or something. I should probably go get the jerk who almost hit you,” he said before disappearing into thin air.

“Tia is not going to believe this,” she whispered to no one. All she knew is that for the rest of her damned life she was going to look both ways when crossing the street. She’d seen first hand what a single moment of reckless driving could cause.

XxX

Matthew, not Matt or Matty or Hughie, Matthew shivered from the cold. He was only in his boxers with little Pacman on them. It had been fine when he’d gone to bed considering it was mid-August but Phantom and this stupid flaming mecha ghost had tussled outside the summer camp he was working at. He could see some of the kids snickering at his state of undress though he was just extremely glad they were alive enough to disrespect him like this.

“Oh man, I’m sorry,” the ghost kid said with big, sad eyes that looked so human despite the fact that they were literally glowing. He looked around at all the snow and ice left over from his fight. “Jeez you guys must be freezing, I wish I could warm you all up but all I can do is make things colder.”

“S’okay,” Matthew said through his chattering teeth. “Teaching the kids how to start a fire was supposed to be next week but we can get a jump on it.” That got a smile out of the ghost and within a half hour, the other counselors were distributing blankets and hot beverages to the kids clustered around multiple fires. They didn’t seem particularly upset by the potentially fatal attack, Matthew will breakdown about that at a later time when he was alone. For now, he just smiled as the children chattered happily with the ghost while he cleaned up as much of the damage as possible.

“So you spend all day fighting ghosts?” Zoe asked with stars in her eyes.

“A lot of the nights too,” Phantom nodded, “I do other stuff but yeah it seems ghost fighting takes up most of my time.”

“Where’d you learn those cool powers?” Zuri asked, miming a punch.

“Comes with being a ghost,” Phantom shrugged, “my ice powers came in later though so I still struggle a bit with them but I’m getting better every day.”

“Why ice though?” Morris said with his cocked curiously to the side. “I see some ghosts use fire or shadows, why do you have ice?”

“Ah that’s a little personal,” Phantom chuckled but his posture was easy despite the invasive question. “Specialty powers like my ice require special circumstances and a certain uh connection to the ghost. Someone like me couldn’t use fire or electricity or plants, ice is in my soul, it’s who I am.”

Matthew paused in drinking his lukewarm coffee as a horrible thought came to mind. He’s been an outdoorsman all his life, practically from the time he could walk. He’d been a deep woods camping guide for a decade before switching to working at summer camps. But the years working in the relative comfort of a stable camp didn’t erase his knowledge of how unforgiving and deadly the woods in the winter could be. A grown man, much less a young teen, would freeze to death in 20 minutes if it was cold enough.

It made sense for ghosts to develop powers related to their deaths. Had Phantom been one of the dozens of unfortunate kids he read about every year who ran away in the middle of winter only to found later as a frozen corpse. He eyed the boy’s snow white hair and frigid aura he exuded with mournful trepidation. God, what a horrible way to die.

“I’d get chilly with ice powers,” Tabby said with a shudder, she held out her cup of cocoa. “You want some of my cocoa to warm you up?”

“No thanks,” Phantom said with a soft smile that was warm despite everything. “The cold hasn’t bothered me for a while.”

XxX

Ghost attacks may be the norm but, if there was one good thing that came out of whole mess it was the fact that violent human crimes went down drastically. So when the rare murder did happen, the shock and fear rippled through the whole town.

Stanford Newton had only been sheriff of Amity Park for eight months after the last guy had gone gray overnight and moved to Florida the next day. It was a daunting position but one he bore proudly. This wouldn’t be his first murder investigation having initially cut his teeth as a beat cop in Chicago but it would be the first in Amity. And it certainly was the first in which the dead served in an active capacity.

“Amanda Chastain, 27. Officially she was a waitress down at Spengler’s Diner but she’s been picked up for prostitution twice in the last year,” Stan said calmly, ignoring the cold, angry presence over his shoulder. “History of polysubstance abuse as well, not that either of those things mean she deserved this.” Used, beaten to death and then dumped in the trash like yesterday’s paper.

He wondered if she’d come back a ghost or if she’d finally get some peace this world hadn’t offered her. “We don’t have many leads right now, I’m afraid. Acting illegally as they are, there’s not a lot of resources these poor girls have to turn to.”

“I’ll find them,” The Phantom said with blazing conviction, his voice thick and sharp as ice. “I’ll find and bring them to justice and make sure no one else is hurt again.”

“I believe you,” Stan nodded, shutting his notebook as he finally turned to face the teenage superhero haunting his town. He can’t say he liked what he saw. The Phantom looked even less human than usual, his aura flaring and flickering like the foggy mist before a heavy snowstorm. His unnatural green eyes glowered, painting his too young face in a terrifying light.

The kid looked furious, clearly taking this death to heart. He’d read the Fenton’s memos about obsessions and such but this seemed beyond that. “But don’t hurt anyone to do it, or yourself while you’re at it.”

“I won’t, I’ll make sure they’ll face human justice and don’t worry,” Phantom gave a snarling smile. “No mortal can hurt me, not like this,” he growled causing the hairs on Stan’s arms and neck to stand on end. He flew off after that, presumably to track down Amanda’s killer.

“Not like this,” Stan mumbled to him, pulling out his handkerchief and wiping his brow where a cold sweat had broken out. “Jesus Christ that poor kid.” Stan had seen plenty of murdered and mutilated bodies in his lifetime, some of them even kids. He just never got to talk to them after they’d had their life forcibly snatched away. It would explain the ghost’s near fanatical determination to save others, why he took a stranger’s murder so personally.

“I hope your own murderer is behind bars,” Stan said as he tucked his handkerchief back into his coat pocket. “Or even six feet under, for killing a good kid like you.” Stan made his way back to his squad car so he could head back to the station and move forward with the official investigation. But he’d eat his hat if there wasn’t a stammering lowlife there by tomorrow ready to turn themselves in.

Maybe after all this was settled down, he’d delve into some of the cold cases stacked in the cellar. Maybe in there he’ll find a picture of a smiling, carefree teen who’d disappeared and returned with the power now to ensure no one else suffered as he had.

XxX

“Yes, I know about the Phantom,” Luis Oliveira will say to anyone who so much as brings up the ghost kid. Locals know better by now but the tourists eat it up every time. He twists his finely combed mustache and gestures to the floor where his audience is standing. “He died right there oh ten or eleven years ago.”

Luis has worked his way all across the the United States since he emigrated from Brazil in the 70s. He finally settled in Amity Park about twelve years ago. He’d never intended to stay in the small Midwest town but the fatal shooting of a young customer kept his little corner market open.

“He was a nice kid, always said hi to me and paid in exact change. Was big fan of the snacks I made, would stop by after school and take half my inventory. He had big brown eyes and a crooked nose,” Luis would smile at the memory before closing his eyes and frowning sadly. “One day, he came late. His teacher made him stay after to go over a failed test, I remember he complained. He was pulling out his money when robber burst in, demanding my money. I fumbled for the register key, dropped it. I bent down to grab it and I hear shots going off. Two over my head, another right into the boy’s throat.”

Luis will hear the sound of that sweet boy’s guttural choking sounds as he drowned in his own blood until the day he himself died. The robber left after the shot, Luis called the police and held the young man’s hand as he died. The would be thief were never found and Luis never did learn anything about the boy who’d died on his floor for getting hungry after school.

“As soon as I saw Phantom on the TV,” Luis would say, perking up after his moment of somber grief, “I knew it was that boy come back. Those kind eyes, I’d recognize them anywhere. He’s never come here but one day he will and I will be able to pass on my regret on not being able to save his life that day.”

XxX

“I think he killed himself,” Mikey whispered to Lester during lunch period, angling his voice low. “The jocks may love Phantom for his powers but I just know he was one of us, an unwanted nerd. I’ve seen him chatting up a ghost I’m pretty sure is Poindexter, Casper’s suicide kid. They’re probably bonding over their similar deaths and the circumstances that led to it.”

“That’s pretty dark,” Lester whispered back. “I also get unpopular vibes from him but I don’t think he’s the time do uh do that to himself; he’s too stubborn and protective. But I bet he was the victim of a prank gone wrong. Dash locked Fenton in the Janitor’s closet last Wednesday, he got out okay somehow but maybe something like that happened to Phantom. He always looks kind of annoyed at the A-listers, maybe they remind him of old bullies.”

“Nuh-uh,” Clara said, pushing up her glasses with her middle finger. “The ghost kid totally got electrocuted or something. He was fighting that weather ghost and he sent lightning bolts his way and Phantom flinched. He fought the Ghost King and yet a little electricity scares him? It might not’ve even been a lightning strike but something manmade like a machine backfiring or something.”

“Get real,” Mikey scoffed, sipping his milk with an eyeroll. “I’m sure we’d have heard about some poor kid getting zapped to death; this town isn’t that big.”

“We’d have heard about a suicide too,” Lester noted with a wry grin.

“Shut up Mr. I base my theories around Fenton who’s a known weirdo”.

XxX

“I’m telling you, the ghost kid died of some debilitating illness,” Abbie McMillian, retired school teacher and three year reigning champ at the Tristate area’s Daylily Competition. She sipped her tea and spoke with as much confidence as she had back in the day wrangling Amity’s impressionable youths. “The superhero thing is clear wish childhood fulfillment, a chance to live and be free like he never got to in life. You see how happy and carefree that young man looks while flying? Clearly he spent his formative years sick and weak.”

“No way,” Greta von Martin frowned as she aggressively stirred her own tea to show her displeasure. “I worked in a hospital for close to 30 years and I know what chronically sick kids look like and Phantom doesn’t fit the bill. I will agree he’s carefree when he’s not battling spooks but he acts like a stupid teen. I’m telling you, the boy got into his parent’s liquor cabinet or took a few too many of whatever pill was going around his school. Tragic but something that happens every day.”

“Greta, dearie,” Abbie said with a pinched frown. “We’ve been friends since grade school and I love you like a sister but you are wrong and until you admit it, I won’t share anymore of my recipes.”

“You’re just being stubborn because you can’t see what’s right in front of you even after working with kids half of your life, Abbie, love,” Greta sniffed. “And you can kiss my grandson’s help weeding you garden goodbye until you relent.”

XxX

Perhaps one of the most human traits is curiosity, especially about what comes after death. Now the good people of Amity Park know a great deal about the dead so the lives before is what attracts their attention and none so more than the ghost boy. Maybe it’s because he’s their hero or maybe it’s because he’s so young. Or perhaps it’s because Phantom is such a mess of contradictions that it’s very hard to guess how the unfortunate boy met his end. But everyone has their own theories, from the mundane to the fantastic, some with evidence backing them up and others pure poppycock.

But for all their curiosity, as much as it burns them to know, they’ll never ask. They don’t want to risk the powerful ghost’s wrath but, moreover, it seemed in poor taste. The boy risked his afterlife to keep them safe, they couldn’t ask what traumatic and miserable circumstances had led to this point.

And besides, it was so much more fun to look up at ghostly figure as he sped through the skies and wonder.

#danny phantom #my writing #i made a headcanon post and immeaditly said 'i have to write this'#and then I did #tw: suicide mention #there is a non described background death of an OC #opinions are like assholes #everyone has one #and *everyone* has an opinion on how phantom died #some are reasonably close and some are waaaay far off #but they wonder and gossip and argue when the kid cant hear #its human nature

387 notes · View notes

hargrove-mayfields · 4 years ago

Text

Everyone likes to pretend Billy was never even there. Life goes on, people change, the past gets forgotten.

A year isn’t enough time for Max though. Right now it feels like the rest of her life wouldn’t be enough time, but Neil and Susan, they were doing just fine.

It’s almost like they like not having him around, that extra burden they couldn’t shake. The plan only Max knew was that Billy was going to stay at home until she was old enough to go with him so she’d be safe.

She knew he was fed up and looking at some local apartments within walking distance of Cherry Lane anyways, but then July happened, and Billy died.

Now it’s July again, and her hair is in twin braids of red with pure white ribbons on the end, and her and her mother are wearing matching blouses. There’s bruises under the bangle on her mothers wrist and one under Max’s own sleeve, and she just wants her brother back.

It’s a holiday they told her, her father (he’s not her fucking father, they never made her call him that when Billy was around) is a veteran, they have to celebrate. Better just dry her eyes and get over it.

Her mother invites all the family they have in the area over to their house for a little get together picnic, and they do their little happy family routine for a while, but Max can only handle so much of it.

Billy should be here by her side, flicking watermelon seeds at her face and putting ice cubes from the cooler down the back of her shirt, being an asshole to distract her from the reality of her family.

And that was that she didn’t really have one, a family. It was always just her and Billy.

Even at these events made for bonding with family, they were off to the side, messing around while the adults talked like they weren’t even there, and she knew she was a little naive then, but it stung more than ever, knowing that even after she’d lost her brother, nobody even stopped to say hi or check up on her, it was just straight into gossiping about the neighbors and those disrespectful bastards across the street who weren’t flying a flag for the holiday and family members who couldn’t be there.

But Max never heard Billy’s name come up even once, and not even in a respect to the dead boy and his grieving sister type of way, but rather, in the way that they just didn’t want to acknowledge his existence. None of these people had come to his graduation in May of last year, or his funeral two months later.

Billy was a taboo that the Hargrove-Mayfields didn’t dare taint their celebrations of freedom and justice with. The irony made Max sick to her stomach.

Or that was at least, until Neil couldn’t help himself.

His words are slurring already, with an excuse to party he’s on what Max would guess to be his fifth or sixth beer that afternoon, and someone just made the mistake of mentioning their own son, Billy and Max’s third cousin or something, and it spurs Neil off on a tangent about his.

“That boy was always good for nothing anyways. It’s almost the same now that he’s dead, ‘Cept maybe now I get some more quiet around the house.”

Nobody knows what to do when he says that, there’s a couple awkward laughs and one shocked gasp, that one was probably from her mother, but Max knows exactly what she wants to do.

What she wants is to watch Neil choking on his blood instead of her brother, his body being lowered into the ground instead of Billy’s, and in the moment she feels like she could be the one to make that a reality, but instead she just stands abruptly, a plate of the food her mother worked so hard to prepare for them she’d been too queasy to eat falling off her knees to the grass, and she says everything she’d bottled up for the past year.

“Don’t talk about Billy that way!

“Now, Maxine-“ Neil starts, but Max is livid, can’t hold back all the things she wished she had said before Billy died, when she got grounded after the funeral, when Neil started beating her, “No! I’m not going to let you do to me what you did to my brother! You don’t get to control me like you did him, it’s your fault that he’s dead!”

It’s her mother’s turn to try to stop her, slender hand covering her mouth painted red, “Maxine..”

“Stop trying to reason with me! I’m sick of pretending to be a family when I had to watch my own brother die! And I’m sick of being treated like I’m crazy for being the only one that cares about Billy!”

More than one person chimes in on that one, offended by the notion they don’t care about family, though it’s Neil that insists, in that faux calm, close to snapping voice of his, “We do care, Maxine. We’re all grieving in our own ways.”

She fires back, “Grieving what? The loss of your punching bag? You hated Billy! You don’t care that he’s dead, all that matters to you is having someone to hurt, and you no trouble adjusting to beating up on your wife and step-daughter instead!”

She catches a backhand to the face for that, and all the background chatter comes to a halt, Neil gritting out through his teeth, “Inside. Now.”

There are tears in her eyes that sting almost as much as the knuckle marks on her cheek, but Max feels like she won, getting her step dad all riled up in front of their family, she feels almost invincible, and she sneers all smug like and bitter, “I can’t go inside yet. I’m celebrating your service to our country, dad. You know, as a family.”

But when Neil's face turns as red as the blood that dripped from his wife’s nose the night before and he stands from his chair and drags her inside by the wrist himself, she realizes that it wasn’t exactly a win.

And when her brain goes numb trying to focus on both the repeated slaps and punches that explode like firecrackers across her skin and the way Neil is yelling and lecturing her until his voice is raw, giving her the same lessons her brother had burned into the back of his mind, she feels like she’s lost everything instead.

When she has to choke back her tears and apologize for embarrassing Neil and for making him hit her as punishment, she realizes, this isn’t a game that can be won or lost at all.

Max isn’t allowed to go back outside to the party. That rule goes unspoken, but words aren't necessary with the way Neil storms off without another word, slamming the back door behind himself. She’s slowly starting to figure out what the things her step father does instead of says mean.

She misses being allowed to be clueless, having someone to protect her or take what punishment she had earned. She wishes she wouldn’t have asked so much of Billy though.

Her own room isn’t safe anymore, what once had been the place she’d be ushered off to when Neil got bad had become more like a trap, the place Neil went to first when he was angry. Everything that had been hers felt wrong, so she goes to Billy’s room and doesn’t come out for the rest of the night. Even now that he’s gone, he still kept her safe.

There’s a welt on her face and fresh bruises forming everywhere, hot tears wetting her sunburnt cheeks and the pillows that smell like Billy, or at least used to before Susan decided his room needed cleaned and washed away every trace of her brother.

All night long there are fireworks going off, a big show put on by the city downtown has her shaking, unable to close her eyes for fear those distant explosions would take her back to the mall, bring back memories she’d never forget, and covering her ear with her hands.

The cracks and booms that shake her windows and her entire life, a headache and a heart break even stronger.

She tries her hardest not to think about Starcourt though, so instead she thinks about how Billy would’ve been proud of her for standing up to Neil. He would’ve called her an idiot, but he would’ve cleaned up her scrapes and held her through the panic attack after, and he probably would’ve liked to see the person Max was becoming too.

That makes Max’s heart hurt, the fact that he won’t get to. She cries harder, and she feels so alone without Billy.

Some part of her knows that she isn’t though. She isn’t the only one that lost somebody last July.

Hawkins’ cemetery was alive with flowers and wreaths and decoration, and more than anything the grieving. All of the victims had families, or in the case of the Holloway’s where their whole family was killed, they had friends and neighbors in the tight knit community who remembered them. El was still grieving Hopper, and Max knew Billy had people like that too.

Billy was popular, his death had a huge impact on the younger population of the town, but not only that, he had his closest friends, Steve and Tommy and Carol and Nicole and Adam from the pool, and of course Heather couldn’t be there, but those people were all keeping her brother alive.

As much as it felt like everyone was trying to forget him, they weren’t, and that brought Max a little bit of hope.

Hope that Billy would be remembered for the things he did right, and who he was behind the boy he had to be to keep them safe.

Hope that with his memory kept in the hearts of so many, the burden of grief wouldn’t fall solely on Max forever and make things a little easier.

Hope that the wound would someday heal, and she could look back on the time she did have with Billy, those seven too short years, with a smile on her face.

For now, she wraps herself in Billy’s jacket and comforter, listening to his music to drown out the distant fireworks, and dreams of the day when things won’t be like this, when she can leave Hawkins and all it’s bad memories and the “family” holding her back to live a life her brother would be proud of, a life that would honor his.

Max decides then with determination, flinching when a bright flash lights up her window, a loud echo through the quaint neighborhood, that she was going to do what Billy hadn’t been able to and break the cycle.

Tomorrow, she’d tell the school counselor she’d been assigned when her depression was at its worst all about Neil Hargrove.

#billy & max #max mayfield #neil hargrove #billy hargrove #ej writer #story by ej!#tw child abuse #also on my ao3!#is this me projecting? pfft no way

118 notes · View notes

alphadaddyderek · 4 years ago

Text

Dude, just get out! (we both live here dumbass!) (sterek fic, smut, college au)

Stiles was initially excited to go to college. The freedom aspect of it in particular is what Stiles was the most excited about. Don’t get him wrong, he loves his dad, of course, he does. He didn’t mind living with him, he liked seeing him on a daily basis. He’s all Stiles has. Well, Stiles has Scott, but Scott is attending university in Arizona of all places. Meanwhile, Stiles is going to NYU, so, there’s not a lot of opportunities to see Scott or his father in person.

Not to fret though! Stiles was ready like Freddy to meet new people and, hopefully, make new friends along the way. That’s what college is all about. Supposedly, Stiles wouldn’t know but if all the movies are to be believed then that’s what college is all about.

He and his dad spent days driving up to NYU and then spent hours moving Stiles’ belongings into his off-campus apartment and unpacking. Stiles got a full-ride —thank god— so there’s extra money for him to be able to live in an actual, nice apartment instead of the dorms. His roommate was nowhere to be seen at the time, but that was fine with Stiles. He’d have plenty of opportunities to get to know him. Stiles’ dad left to stay in a hotel for the night because there was no way he was starting the trek back to Beacon Hills this late in the day. So, Stiles was left to his own devices in his new apartment.

Well, he was for about twenty minutes, then his roommate came back and...he’s kind of a dick.

He has a resting bitch face and he hardly likes to talk. Stiles doesn’t know if it’s because the guy doesn’t like him or if he’s just the quiet type. He’s starting to think that the guy doesn’t like him because every time Stiles starts talking he looks annoyed. The dick’s name is Derek and coincidentally, he also goes to NYU. He did tell Stiles his major, but wouldn’t tell Stiles what his favorite color was, which is just plain rude.

Anyway, Stiles isn’t going to let this Debbie downer ruin his college experience, no way!

Stiles decides the best thing to do is to just ignore him. Which is hard to do because the guy takes up so much space, like, he’s actually huge. And he always seems to be in the apartment when Stiles comes back from classes. Which is weird because, dude, don’t you have classes to go to? Nonetheless, he’s always there which means Stiles has to see him all the time and Derek can continue being an asswipe for no reason.

For example, Stiles sometimes forgets to wash the dishes —sue him!— and Derek will chew him out for it. Stiles didn’t know Derek was such a neat freak, but now that he knows he’ll leave more things laying around because Stiles can also be a dick when he wants to be. Maybe Derek should learn to be more personable, then Stiles wouldn’t have to go out of his character by doing such petty things. They’ve only been living together for about a week and a half and there’s already a turf battle going on. Stiles isn’t sure who’s going to win this battle, however, the sight of Derek tripping over one of Stiles’ shoes and the subsequent curse that flies out of his mouth makes Stiles not even care in the end.

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

After about a month, it's way more than just a battle. The turf battle has evolved into a war and now, no one is safe.

Derek continues being yucky and Stiles continues to do things to intentionally annoy him, except, now Derek is doing things to annoy Stiles. Like, eating all of Stiles’ Pop-Tarts or, and this is a cruel one, flushing the toilet while Stiles is in the shower. Unfortunately for Stiles, Derek buys gross ass healthy food for himself, and Stiles couldn’t choke down that food to save his life. So, what can one do to even the playing field?

Derek is sitting on the couch in the living room, watching some show about underwater caves. Stiles normally wouldn’t stick around because, despite what Derek might think, Stiles really doesn’t enjoy being talked down to by an abnormally grumpy man. This time though, Stiles sits down beside him. He can see Derek watching him from the corner of his eye, probably waiting to see what Stiles is going to do. Stiles likes to instill fear in Derek. Normally he acts like Stiles is nothing more than a bug he wants to squish under his overly expensive boot, but now? He’s worried. He should be. Stiles is going to pull out his ultimate weapon.

“So, whatcha watchin’?” Stiles asks, plastering a smile onto his face.

Derek gives him a suspicious look. “Why do you want to know?”

Stiles shrugs, smile still present. “I’m curious. This show seems interesting.”

Derek gives him an incredulous eyebrow raise, which is super insulting. Derek thinks all Stiles watches is Harry Potter, Star Wars, and superhero movies. Which is just wrong. But that’s okay. Stiles thinks all Derek watches are documentaries about how to be a functioning human in society, which, newsflash Derek, still needs working on.

A few minutes go by before Stiles decides to speak again. “So, you haven’t told me about your family.”

“That’s intentional.”

Stiles laughs. Derek thinks he can scare Stiles into leaving him alone. Unfortunately for Derek, Stiles has zero self-preservation skills.

“Come on Derek. We’re roommates. Don’t you want us to get along?”

Derek didn’t dignify that with a response —rude!— so Stiles speaks again.

“My dad is the sheriff of my hometown. Been that way for as long as I can remember. My best friend, his name is Scott, wants to be a vet. He goes to The University of Arizona. After that he’s not sure where he’ll go to get his DVM but he’s open to anything.”

Derek turns the volume up on the tv and Stiles bites his lip to stifle his laughter.

Ah, Derek. That won’t help.

“At first I was kinda skeptical about Scott becoming a vet. I mean, he’s a puppy himself, and I love him to death, but sometimes he’s ditzy. He’s a ditzy brunette. But after working at Deaton’s, Deaton is the town vet, for years he’s proved me wrong,” Stiles risks a glance at Derek and he’s scowling so hard Stiles is kind of afraid it’ll get stuck that way forever. “He and his girlfriend, Allison, are kind of having issues with long-distance but they’re high school sweethearts so I’m confident that they’ll work through it. They’re so cute together that it’s actually kinda nauseating. Like, sometimes their sappiness makes me sick to my stomach. I wonder when they’ll get ma-”

Derek abruptly stands up and walks out the room, slamming and locking his bedroom door, as if Stiles is the boogeyman who he’s trying to keep out.

Stiles snickers and grabs the remote to change the channel. Derek gets annoyed when Stiles talks, well, he shouldn’t have started this war then (it doesn’t matter that technically Stiles started it). Stiles has weaponized his ability to talk people’s ears off. So, Derek better watch out.

Hopefully, Derek won’t murder Stiles in his sleep.

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

Okay, so, Stiles thinks maybe this whole turf war thing is getting out of hand.

It’s been a total of 3 and a half months since they’ve been living together and Derek and Stiles are on edge around each other 24/7. Stiles has to shower around eleven o’clock at night so that Derek won’t burn him alive by flushing the toilet. Derek doesn’t have access to Stiles’ snacks anymore because Stiles hid them in the back of his closet. Derek stays in his room all day just so that Stiles won't have any opportunities to talk to him. They’re at an impasse, but Stiles has a feeling that the worst has yet to come.

A really bad feeling.

Stiles comes back from a particularly grueling day of classes to see Derek sitting on the couch...and he’s smirking.

That doesn’t bode well for Stiles.

“Hello, Stiles.”

“Uh, hey dude. Why do you look like a supervillain?”

“‘Cause I have a surprise for you.”

Yeah, that definitely didn’t sound good.

“Actually, I am a-okay. I really don’t need the surprise. I appreciate it though,” Stiles tries to make his way towards his room but Derek keeps talking.

“I normally don’t snoop through people’s things, it’s really not in my character, but after you left to go out last night, I heard some weird noises coming from your room. I was trying to ignore it at first, but after a while I went to see what it was. I was going to mention it this morning but you woke up before I did and by the time I had woken up you were already in class.”

Stiles had stopped in his tracks but he still hasn’t turned around to face Derek, because if Derek is going where Stiles thinks he’s going, Stiles is going to need to be able to book it into his bedroom as soon as possible.

Derek didn’t seem too perturbed by Stiles’ silence since he continues with his story. “Imagine my surprise when I found out that it was your laptop making that noise. Now, I wasn’t surprised by the fact that porn was playing, but what I was surprised at-”

Oh god.

“-was that the video you were watching was titled ‘bear fucks twink with huge cock’. And now I can’t help but question your hatred towards me.”

Stiles’ face is burning. He’s never been so embarrassed in his life, which is really a great feat because Stiles doesn’t get embarrassed by much. It’s not that Stiles didn’t notice Derek was hot, like, come on now, Derek is gorgeous. He’s not that much taller than Stiles but the size of his biceps? They’re easily the size of Stiles’ thigh. Derek is bigger than Stiles in every aspect.

Well, he’s not sure about every aspect. Stiles has never seen Derek’s dick outright, but he’s seen him wear sweatpants, and ooh boy, that bulge gives Stiles the impression that Derek is hung like a horse.

Stiles still hates Derek because Derek still has his asshole-ish ways. Case in point: right the fuck now. But, you can hate someone and still want to fuck them, right? Hate sex exists.

Derek is patiently waiting for Stiles to respond, and Stiles has never been good at staying silent, so it’s only a matter of time.

Stiles finally turns around to face Derek and clears his throat. “That- that means nothing. People watch shit like that all the time. Plus, you hardly qualify as a bear.”

It’s a weak excuse but, hey, Stiles is grasping at straws here.

Derek tilts his head to the side in agreement. “True, but if that was the case, why do you seem so nervous?”

Stiles can’t think of a reasonable response in time and Derek knows it.

Derek smirks again and Stiles really wants to knee him in the dick.

“Do you wanna fuck me?”

Stiles narrows his eyes at Derek. What the fuck is his endgame here? Why is he being such a dick?

Oh yeah, because Derek is a fucking asshole.

“Fine,” Stiles says through gritted teeth. “I find you attractive. I watch porn about big, hairy men fucking twinks because I want you to fuck me. Are you happy now? Jackass.”

Stiles storms into his room and slams the door. That’s a perfect example of why people can’t be pretty and nice. It’s genetically impossible.

Stiles lets out a sigh and dumps his backpack on his bed before stripping out of his clothes and getting into the shower. He stands under the spray for ten minutes, just praying to the cosmic gods out there that a black hole will appear and suck the whole human race into nothingness. After waiting for a few more minutes, and his prayers going unanswered, he washes himself then gets out to dry off. He wraps the towel around his waist and opens the door to find Derek standing outside his bathroom door. He shrieks (a very manly shriek by the way) and covers his chest with his arms, not that that’ll hide much.

“Derek, what the fuck are you doing?”

Derek’s eyes do the slowest sweep in fucking existence down Stiles’ body and Stiles feels his cheeks flush. Ugh, why are the cutest guys always assholes?

“I came to apologize. I was being a dick-”

“What else is new?” Stiles interrupts. Stiles is rewarded with another smirk.

“-and I took it too far. I’m sorry I embarrassed you.”

Stiles looks at Derek for a second. They’ve never apologized to each other when they did shit, and even though Stiles didn’t take it as far as Derek did, Stiles can’t stand here and act like he wasn’t also an asshole.

Stiles sighs. “I’m sorry too. I was also kind of a dick. Not as much as you, but still.”

Derek laughs a little, and Jesus H. Christ, how is a laugh sexy? “Apology accepted.”

Stiles holds his hand out for a handshake. Derek puts his hand in Stiles’ and they shake on their newfound not-friendship-but-also-maybe-not-complete-dicks-to-each-other-ship.

“So,” Derek starts after they drop their hands. “wanna have sex?”

Stiles might’ve actually choked on his own fucking spit, because what?

“What?”

“I asked if you wanted to have sex.”

“Where is this even coming from? You hate my guts. Every time I talk you look like you’re going in for a root canal.”

Stiles is so confused, he’s also getting hornier by the minute, but right now, the confusion is outweighing the horniness.

“I don’t hate you. Yeah you talk a lot, and it was so annoying at first, sometimes it still is, but I got used to your incessant chatter.”

Stiles knows he looks dumb, his mouth is gaping and everything. “I think maybe there was something in the water because I must be high. We’ve lived together for over 3 months and you’re telling me that you actually want to have sex with me?”

Derek shrugs. “Yeah. Just because you can be kinda annoying that doesn’t mean you’re not cute. Plus, people have sex all the time, that doesn’t mean we have to, like, date or whatever.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. Derek’s so romantic, how has Stiles been able to resist jumping his bones for this long?

“You just embarrassed the hell out of me, why would I ever want to have sex with you?” Never mind the fact that Stiles definitely does want to have sex with him.

“Maybe you don’t. If not, then fine. We can just go back to how things were. If you do, then we’ll have a great time.”

Stiles is still struggling to wrap his mind around all of this. Derek wants to have sex with him? In what universe does that make sense?

Apparently in this one.

Stiles does this sort of shrug that basically portrays well, what the fuck? Okay then. “Okay. I guess this is happening then.”

Derek smirks for like the fiftieth time in thirty seconds and if Stiles was a stronger man he definitely would’ve kneed Derek in the dick, but clearly, Stiles is weak.

Very, very weak.

“My room or yours?” Derek asks.

“Mine. Since it’s right there,” Stiles points behind Derek and, lo and behold, there’s Stiles’ bed.

Grabbing Stiles’ hand in a surprisingly gentle gesture, Derek walks the three feet from the bathroom to the bed to lay Stiles down.

Derek gets on top of the bed and is sitting on his knees by Stiles’ feet. He pulls his shirt off like he’s in Magic Mike or something before throwing it onto the floor without a care in the world. Jesus, it’s like his muscles have muscles. Stiles starts feeling a little insecure about his body. He’s got muscles, but, he’s not, like, ripped like Derek is. Stiles likes to think he has somewhat of a swimmer’s body.

Looming over him like a fucking creeper, Derek stares down at Stiles. “You know, you’re very pretty.”

Stiles refuses to admit that he blushes at that because he’s not pretty. If anything he’s handsome, some may even say gorgeous.

“Can you just get on with it?” Stiles throwing a scowl in Derek’s direction.

“Bossy. I kinda like that,” he strips his sweatpants off and throws them down too. Now he’s only in a pair of gray boxer briefs and, god, Stiles wants to suck his dick so badly. Which is weird because he’s really not all that experienced with blowjobs, he’s given maybe two blowjobs in his life. Whatever, Derek has a great dick okay?

Derek tugs at the towel around Stiles’ waist. “Is this okay?”

Stiles nods and then the towel is gone, and Stiles is laid bare for Derek to gaze at his leisure. And boy does Derek gaze. He does another slow sweep down Stiles’ body, except this time it’s even more intense because now Stiles is naked.

“You’re not a virgin right?” Derek asks while rummaging through Stiles’ bedside drawer and pulling out the lube. First of all, it’s rude to go through people’s stuff! Second of all, how the hell did Derek know his lube was there? Although, where else would lube be?

“Nope. There will be no deflowering of the Stiles today. Sorry to disappoint.”

Derek shrugs before popping open the lube. “I’m not one of those weirdos who pops a boner at the thought of popping someone’s cherry.”

Stiles chuckles, like actually chuckles. Who knew Derek was even capable of being funny?

Stiles pulls his legs up and hooks his hands behind his knees. The position exposes Stiles’ hole to the extreme and it makes Stiles blush. Just because he’s not a virgin doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get nervous or embarrassed during sex.

Derek knee-walks closer to Stiles and squirts some lube onto his fingers. He puts one hand on Stiles’ right thigh while the other one gently and slowly breaches his entrance. Fuck, his fingers are thick. Thicker than Stiles’ that’s for sure. Stiles definitely isn’t shy about fingering. He fingers himself all the time, but it’s been a while since someone else’s fingers were up there. Stiles is nervous and excited about it all.

Derek doesn’t spend too much time with the one finger, quickly adding a second one and that’s when it starts feeling good. Derek’s fingers are about an inch away from his prostate and Stiles is about to curse him out until Derek presses both fingers against his prostate and Stiles has to bite his lip to stop the loud ass moan that almost escaped his mouth. Judging by the look on Derek’s face, he knows he touched Stiles’ prostate, and being the asshole that he is, he has a cocky smile on his face.

After scissoring those two fingers inside Stiles for a few minutes, Derek adds a third finger. The stretch is definitely there, but hey, Stiles likes a little pain with sex. He can be kinky sometimes.

“Okay. I’m ready, come on,” Stiles says. He was starting to get impatient. He just wants to get dicked down already, damn.

Derek gently removes his fingers and gets off the bed to pick up his sweatpants. He reaches into the pocket and retrieves a condom out. Stiles’ mouth drops.

“So you just knew I’d have sex with you?”

“I didn’t know. I just hoped.”

That smarmy little bastard.

Derek gets back in bed and, finally, removes his briefs and...

Holy mother of god.

Well, maybe not the mother of god. That’s blasphemous as fuck. But! The sentiment is the same because wow. Stiles is glad he didn’t knee him in the dick because that dick is too gorgeous to cause serious injury to. He’s not like porn star big, but it is big and long too. And it’s uncut, which Stiles has a weird sort of kink about. He loves uncut cocks. Yeah, that’s a good-looking cock right there.

Derek unwraps the condom and rolls it onto his cock. He then grabs the bottle of lube that he placed on the bed and squirts more out before slathering a generous amount onto said cock. He makes Stiles move his hands before replacing them with one of his own, the other is at the base of his cock, lining it up to Stiles’ hole.

“You ready baby?” Derek asks.

“Call me baby again and I’ll dropkick you in the throa- oh fuck.”

Of course, Derek chose when Stiles was mid-threat to start pushing his cock inside. Geez, that is seriously a big cock, even the fingering didn’t make it burn any less. Derek gently pushes his cock in deeper before pulling it out, then he pushes it in a little deeper than he did at first before pulling it back out again. He repeats that until his cock is seated all the way inside, his balls to Stiles’ ass. Then he stops and waits. There’s sweat gathering above Derek’s eyebrow and some is even rolling down his temple. Needless to say, Derek isn’t as unaffected as he’s trying to be. Which makes Stiles feel kind of great actually.

“Okay, you can move now,” Stiles informs Derek. And when Stiles says Derek goes to town, he really means that.

Derek puts his other hand behind Stiles’ left knee and pulls out all the way, not even the tip is inside, before thrusting back in. Hard.

Stiles’ breath gets forced out of him at the movement. This truly is hate sex, kinda. Derek said he didn’t hate Stiles, but he certainly doesn’t like him all that much. At least, not yet. Who knows what will stem from this. That’s something to think about when Derek isn’t pounding him into the mattress.

Derek delivers a thrust that nails Stiles’ prostate dead on and Stiles makes this super embarrassing sound, like a high-pitched keen. He knows he’s not going to live that down after this.

After that, Derek is consistent with the hard abuse on Stiles’ prostate, and Stiles is getting close to orgasm embarrassingly fast. He isn’t too sure he’ll be able to last much longer. Although, Derek doesn’t seem like he’s going to be able to either. If the grunts and groans he’s letting out are anything to go by.

“Unh, fuck. Derek-!”

“Yeah, you’re gonna come?”

Stiles frantically nods his head and grabs his own cock to start stroking himself. Derek thrusts harder if that’s even possible, and within a few seconds, Stiles is coming all over his stomach.

“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek groans and thrusts one, two, three more times before stopping with a deep, guttural moan. He almost sounds like an actual bear and Stiles can’t help the giggle that escapes him.

Derek gives him a weird look but his lip quirks up in a maybe sort of smile. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh nothing,” Stiles gives him a shit-eating grin.

And since it’s already been established that Derek is an asshole, he grinds and his cock brushes against Stiles’ oversensitive prostate causing Stiles’ whole body to convulse. He slaps Derek’s arm.

Derek pulls out and lets go of Stiles’ legs. They’re sore from being in the same position for so long but Stiles can’t even care. He’s sated and all he wants to do now is take a nap. Stiles stretches his whole body like a cat while Derek disposes of the condom.

“Okay, that was fun. If you want to annoy me, I’ll be in my room.” And with that, Derek walks out of Stiles’ room to go to his own.

Derek was definitely a dick, but Stiles could deal with him. Especially if they continue to fuck like that.

Holy (not) mother of god indeed.

#sterek #sterek smut #stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek fic #sterek au #smut #My fic

143 notes · View notes

sunnysviolin · 4 years ago

Note

High school Sunny enthusiast here! Would you mind sharing a couple more headcanons about it? I’m so glad you’ll be able to teach again this fall, you totally deserve to develop your passion at full potential 👏🏻

Am I showing up after forever of being gone? Yeahhhhh Sorry y’all got the brain sads lol but!! I’m back w one of my favorite little universes! I actually had a meeting for our teacher prep program on Thursday which is so exciting!! We’re being assigned our working teachers sometime this month which is insane to me.....Anyway today I’m gonna clean and write!! Take some headcanons nonnie you helped to make me feel inspired again!

This ended up being more Sunny and his Mom than Sunny and high school, but it gets there!! So Sunny’s mom used to make him and Mari bag lunches almost every day. The only day she didn’t was on Fridays, because those were pizza days, and she knew pizza was Sunny’s favorite

She made their lunches the night before and they sat on the back right corner of the fridge. She liked to keep it pretty standard- usually a sandwich (or leftovers from their dinner), a snack, a piece of fruit, and some sort of dessert. Sunny used to sit at the kitchen counter and watch her make their lunches right before he went to bed.

It was one of the special things that was him and his mom. He got to choose what they had for a snack, what piece of fruit the two of them had, even what went in their sandwiches. He was the one that chose Caprisun or water bottle. He got to help his mom write a little note for Mari to read on a sticky note when she ate her food the next day at school.

It started as a practical thing (Sunny was such a picky eater, it was best that he decided what they ate so he would actually eat his food) but then it was just their tradition

Sunny was never talkative per say, but during this routine of theirs Sunny’s mom could ask him about his day or his friends, and Sunny would do more than nod or shake his head.

After Mari died, after her husband left, they didn’t need bag lunches anymore. Sunny didn’t go to school, and Mari couldn’t. Sunny wouldn’t speak, not even his infuriatingly endearing head nods and shakes. He just slept. All day long.

But after they move, after those last three days where she left him alone, something changes. At first his mother is furious with herself. She left him alone and he ended up in the hospital, how could she do that? How could she do that to her last living baby? But Sunny is changed, and not in the bad way. He’s getting up, he’s going out, he’s even seeing his friends.

She had been treating him like her baby again. She had thought that’s what he needed. He needed someone to cuddle him close and tell him he was loved. He had needed someone to make excuses, to let him sleep and process. He had needed to be in the house where he was safe and not out in the world where he could get hurt. He needed his mommy

But....maybe that had been what she needed.

Admitting you got it wrong as a parent is not easy. It gets swallowed down like medicine and lemon rinds. It bubbles in the stomach and leaves you nauseous and unsettled. But seeing her son growing in front of her, seeing the shell she had left him in beginning to crumble shows her that yes. She did get it wrong. She had let them both stagnate.

When he tells her he wants to go back to school, she cries. She cries a lot. He is clearly very uncomfortable, but Sunny’s mother holds him tightly and cries. She calls the local high school that day and tries to explain their situation. Sunny had been doing some online classes over the last four years, but his grades were abysmal, and his mother is pretty sure he hadn’t learned a thing.

The school agrees to take on Sunny, but they put him in a grade below his own. He will graduate a year late, but he will for sure graduate. That they promise her. His last school just let him fall by the wayside. This school is already planning out special practices just for him. Sunny’s mother settles the fear in her. Her boy will be looked after this time.

They are worried about his socialization and ask if there’s any hobbies he has. She can only think of blank stares and sleeping, but she tries to remember the quiet sweet boy her son used to be. She remembers endless sketchbooks and colored pencils, and the oh so perfect melody of her children together. On a whim she enrolls him in Orchestra and Art with assurances that if he doesn’t like them he can switch them out.

The night before his first day of school, she walks into the kitchen and beckons him to follow her. They don’t have a bar counter space for him to sit at anymore, but Sunny hops up next to the fridge. Normally she would scold him for doing this, but she just asks what kind of fruit he wants.

He tells her peaches, and she carefully carves them into perfect slices the way her mother used to do for her. She and Sunny begin their traditions once more.

Sunny goes back to school and it is not easy. She doesn’t make it easy. Not on him, not on his teachers, and not on the administration. She calls at least three times a week, telling them that it’s too much. They tell her to back off, to let him stumble. It’s terrifying to do that. It’s worse than any fear to let her child fall and hurt himself. But she does. She does because she’s seen the changes since she left him alone those days in the beginning of the summer.

One full semester is what the administration asks of her. Just two quarters for him to find his footing without her influence. They will reconvene over winter break to make adjustments, but she needs to let him fail if that’s what’s going to happen. He needs a mother, not a mommy. They don’t know the knife they’ve twisted when they say those words, but that knife is exactly what she needed. She agrees.

Sunny struggles to adjust but he does. His failed tests and missed classes slowly disappear one by one. He brings home a practice violin she did not buy from him, and he plays when he thinks she’s asleep. It’s quiet and unsure, but the music is there.

He invites her to his concert. She does not hug him and cry again, even though she wants to. He isn’t a baby, he doesn’t need her to fawn over him. She agrees to come, and secretly begins to covert with Kel’s mother.

She waits outside Sunny’s school for them all to arrive. Hero has come home from college for a long weekend for this. She greets each of them with a firm hug, something she hasn’t done in years. Even Basil, although he seems slightly terrified of her. They sit together in the audience and watch Sunny perform.

She cries as she watches him. She doesn’t recognize this boy. This is not her baby, not the same child she loved and then lost alongside his sister. He’s changed, someone new is on that stage performing, someone for her to discover and love.

She had been so afraid of this, so scared for that change, so sure it would only end in another dead child. Now there’s a teenager, not a child in front of her. He’s not so tall and not so strong, but he is alive and real right in front of her, and she is growing.

She can finally start to let herself be his mother.

#asks #anon #high school sunny #violinist sunny #can't remember the tag i use #omori #omori headcanons #omori headcanon #omori sunny #omori sunnys mother #omori sunnys mom #sunnys mother #She's just...struggling #but she loves him

119 notes · View notes

official-weasley · 4 years ago

Text

Love, William (Bill Weasley x OC) - Chapter 7

WARNINGS: absolutely nothing except Umbridge

Chapter 7 - Bill's Birthday Present

Dear Eric,

thank you for sending me a birthday present a week earlier – it was a nice surprise as always! Of course, Fred, George, and I already ate all the candy you sent me but that scarf is stunning and will come in handy as it’s currently snowing outside.

Your present got me all excited about my birthday. I know Fred and George are planning something because they are constantly giggling and whispering when they think I’m not paying attention. I will officially be an adult in the Muggle world. I am not sure what to do with that information but I can’t wait either way!

I admire you for having faith that our mother will stop pushing me to be more like you. You asked if she had a change of heart yet about the shop and the answer is no. She doesn’t want to hear about it and when I mentioned it when I was home for Christmas, her face got all screwed up and green as if she’s going to vomit.

I appreciate that you are trying to persuade her to give me a chance but since I have given up hope a long time ago, you don’t have to waste energy on it either.

Oh, and speaking about the shop! Fred and George think we might have finally found the right place! It’s in Diagon Alley, which is perfect if I say so myself because Diagon Alley doesn’t have a joke shop yet and I reckon that will be great for business.

I haven’t seen it yet. Fred and George went there during Christmas break. They said that it would need quite a lot of work but they think it’s going to pay off! We are going to go and talk to the owner during Easter break to arrange matters further. We don’t want to get too excited – we still have to graduate and pass our N.E.W.T.s. Mum would have my head if I don’t finish school, can you imagine!

I would like you to know that I am still keeping our family legacy of Filch pranking alive! As I told you before, he is the perfect test subject for our products and since we perfected the Screaming Yo-yo over the summer, the twins and I couldn’t resist throwing one into his office while he was asleep. I wish you could be there when he started screaming. He ran into the hallway and actually said to me that I was just like my brother – disobedient and good for nothing.

I think that might just have been the sweetest thing Mr. Filch has ever said to me! Can you believe he remembers you?

However, I wish I could say that Mr. Filch is our biggest concern these days. That Umbridge woman has completely lost her mind. DADA has never been so boring and we keep getting detention! But we have it easy, you should have seen what she’s done to Harry! She’s mental that one. Hermione told me that she made him write lines because he is lying that You-Know-Who is back.

Who would ever lie about something like that? The Ministry is losing it and I am glad that you are in the USA and not here to witness this nonsense.

Ms. Pink Lady Toad keeps creating rules that just don’t make any sense. We can barely whisper in the hallways now. A couple was snogging on a bench on the second floor the other day and she not only pulled them apart but gave them a month’s worth of detention. A MONTH!

Anyway, there might be some light at the end of the tunnel. There’s a reason I asked you to send me that advanced spellbook you used for your Auror training. Harry is recruiting people to start some sort of a defense class. Godric knows that Umbridge isn’t going to teach us anything and he is taking matters into his own hands!

Hermione made us these coins to know when our next meeting. Fred and George can’t wait and we all know it’s going to be better than any class.

I have to go now, I have DADA in 15 minutes and I have to send this letter to you before I go in case I die of boredom in that class.

Thank you again for the birthday present and for supporting me in what I want to do with my life – it means the world to me.

I miss you and know that I can’t wait to see you over the summer!

Love and a big hug, Theo

PS. I remembered that you mentioned that you have an annoying co-worker in one of your previous letters so I am sending you a bag of Invisibility Powder. It’s a product Freddie and I developed. You mix it in someone’s drink and their hair is going to turn invisible for 3 days making them look as if they were bald. Have fun with it and reminisce on your mischief days!

—

“Late again, Miss Cork.” Professor Umbridge said sluggishly when Theodora entered the classroom.

“I apologize, professor. I was in the Owlery, sending a letter.” Theodora bowed her head and went to sit next to George.

“A letter?” A hollow laugh escaped Umbridge’s mouth. “And who might you be writing to?”

“I think that is none of your business,” Fred said through his teeth.

“That’s professor to you, Mr. Weasley. I am Hogwarts High Inquisitor and I have the power to make it my business to know who the students are writing to.” The professor stepped closer to where Fred was sitting, her head slightly tilted to the side.

“I was wr-”

Theodora had nothing to hide so she just wanted to get the attention off her by telling Umbridge who the letter was for but George’s hand over her mouth stopped her.

“You don’t have to tell her anything,” George whispered to her.

“Oh, but she does.” Umbridge’s lips curved into an evil grin and Theodora knew what was coming. “Perhaps we should establish a new rule. No letters in or out without me knowing about them.”

“Are you mental?” Fred stood up.

“That's privacy invasion!” George followed.

“Sit down the both of you!” Umbridge glared at them until they did what they were told.

“She’s right to be concerned, you know.” Theodora turned to George, with a mischievous expression on her face.

She knew what she was about to say next will get her in detention but she didn’t care. She simply had no energy to listen to Umbridge trying to boss people around.

“Elaborate, Miss Cork.” Umbridge cleared her throat.

“I was writing a letter to one of my confidants in America. We are forming an alliance with them against the Dark Lord.” Theodora smirked.

If she wanted information that had nothing to do with her, might as well lie about it and make her furious.

“How dare you!” Umbridge turned as pink as the bow around her neck. “What is wrong with you students?” She furrowed her brows and started walking towards Theodora’s desk, slowly. “How many times do I have to say that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is not back?!”

“And how many times do we have to tell you that he is?” Fred rolled his eyes and slammed a book against his head.

All Gryffindors started to laugh, while Slytherins made faces of disgust and shock.

“That’s enough!” The professor hit the floor with a loud thump of her foot.

Silence filled the classroom.

“Would you like detention again, Mr. Weasley?”

“Gladly!” Fred hissed at her. “At least it won’t be as boring as this class!”

Umbridge and a few Slytherins gasped.

“A month, Mr. Weasley! Starting in this classroom, tonight at 7!” She said, shaking.

Fred shrugged his shoulders, put his book in his bag, glanced at George and Theodora, and started towards the door.

Exchanging one look, George and Theodora stood up as well and followed Fred.

“And where do you think you are all going?” Umbridge questioned them.

“You already gave detention to my brother, so I see no point for him to stick around and we always serve detention together so you’ll be seeing both of us tonight, professor,” Fred replied.

“And I am joining them because this class is as dull as they get and without Mr. and Mr. Weasley I might just die of boredom in your class. Honestly, professor, I fear for my life.” Theodora said sarcastically, making Fred and George giggle.

George put his arm around Theodora’s shoulders and without saying another word, they left the classroom, leaving professor Umbridge speechless and with her mouth opened.

—

“I still can’t believe you went after me,” George whispered to his two friends, the second Umbridge left the classroom during their detention.

“What else were we supposed to do, I hate that woman.” Theodora frowned.

“We have to come up with something and get her out of this school.” Fred thought out loud.

“That would do everyone a favor.” Theodora rubbed her chin. “But what?”

“I don’t know yet but it’s never too late to start brainstorming,” Fred smirked while the other two nodded in agreement.

“So, Theo,” George prodded her, “your birthday’s in a week. What are your plans?”

“I don’t have plans.” Theodora chuckled.

“Good.” Fred clapped. “I mean, whatever.”

“Right, as if I don’t know that you two are up to something.” Theodora lifted an eyebrow at her best friends.

“Maybe we are, maybe we aren’t.” George sent her a wink.

“18 is a big one! You’ll be able...you’ll...wait what are you allowed to do when you turn 18?” Fred asked puzzled as he couldn’t come up with a single thing.

“In the Wizarding world nothing much since we come of age at 17 but in the Muggle world she will finally be a grown-up.” George giggled.

“A grown-up? She will have to mature for that.” Fred joked.

Theodora pursed her lips playfully and smacked them both over the head, then joined them in a fit of laughter.

Their faces straightened and they went back to writing lines when they heard Umbridge coming back, pressing their lips together hard, not to continue laughing.

—

“What do you think you’re doing?” Fred sat down next to Theodora, almost making her spit out her porridge – startling her.

“The last time I checked it’s called eating?” Theodora blinked at him.

“I mean, running away from us like that. Don’t you think we don’t know what day it is today?” Fred explained his question.

“I didn’t run away.” Theodora laughed. “I woke up, saw that you two weren’t in the common room yet, and went down for breakfast.”

“Sounds like running to me, what do you think, Georgie?” Fred’s eyes turned from Theodora to his brother who was sitting on the opposite side of the table.

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” George said with a smug expression on his face.

“Then I would like to deeply, from the bottom of my heart, apologize to you,” Theodora said in a dramatic voice, placing her hands over her chest.

“Apology accepted.” Fred grinned.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” George stood up, climbed across the table, and sat on Theodora’s other side, “happy birthday, Theo.”

The twins kissed Theodora’s cheeks – one on each side – and hugged her.

“Thank you.” Theodora giggled with a hand over her mouth.

“You’ll get your present after the Quidditch practice,” Fred said excitedly.

“Please tell me, we are not pranking anyone today?” Theodora pleaded.

“Nothing of the sorts, we promise.” George smiled innocently.

Before Theodora could ask more about her present an owl dropped a letter in her lap. George got up and crawled under the table to sit back on the other side, while Fred sat a bit away from her so she could read the letter in private.

Theodora wondered who the letter could be from. She already received her gift and birthday letter from Eric. He was always afraid that it wouldn’t arrive in time so he sent it a week in advance every year.

She knew she couldn’t expect anything from her mother. It would be a miracle if she would even remember that it’s her daughter’s birthday. The last time she heard her mother say ‘happy birthday’ to her was when Eric was still at school.

She opened the envelope and took out the neatly folded piece of parchment. Before she could fully unfold it, she saw the name signed below the message. Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened.

She folded the letter back up – without reading it – and put it back in its envelope. She never expected to get a letter from this person and she most certainly knew she can’t read its content in front of the twins.

The letter was from Bill.

“Who’s the letter from?” George asked upon seeing Theodora’s flustered expression.

“It’s...uhm...it’s from Eric.” She mumbled knowing they won’t ask further questions if it’s concerning him.

“Do you always blush when you get a letter from your brother? Because that’s concerning.” Fred raised his eyebrows at his best friend.

“No...I...” The red on Theodora’s cheeks deepened. “I think I just got my period.” She blurted out and stood up.

She couldn’t get out of the Great Hall fast enough. She knew that the twins won’t buy her lie about her getting her period. They knew when she was grumpy and need to give her space and that’s not happening for another 2 weeks.

She also couldn’t deny that the curiosity about why Bill sent her a letter was growing in her chest with each minute.

She hurried up the stairs to the second floor – where better to have a private moment than in Myrtle’s bathroom?

She double-checked if she was alone, besides sobbing Myrtle in the second bathroom stall.

She put the toilet lid down and sat on it. She took the letter out of the inner pocket of her robes and stared at the envelope, her hands shaking.

She would be lying if she said that she forgot all about Bill and the time they spent together during the summer. She was hoping she will stop thinking about him once she returned to Hogwarts but wasn’t so lucky – she missed him.

After that disastrous day of them being locked in the broom closet together, they didn’t say another word to each other until Bill’s departure to Egypt when they said an awkward goodbye.

Bill was mostly in his room and once Fred and George apologized to her for the 10th time for what they have done and she asked them to never talk to Bill about her again, she convinced them to work on their products even more than before so they barely left the room.

It was January now and even though she still sometimes couldn’t sleep – thinking about him – she was certain that Bill forgot she ever existed. The letter in her hands proved her wrong and she didn’t know how to feel about it.

She didn’t see much of the letter in the Great Hall but she could swear she saw the word birthday written down. She didn’t know that Bill knew when her birthday was.

She took a deep breath and took the parchment out of the envelope. She closed her eyes and unfolded the paper – perhaps that way she’ll get more courage to read it.

She opened one of her eyes, the other still closed, pretending she wasn’t dying to read what Bill wrote to her.

Dear Theodora,

I hope this letter arrives in time. If my calculations are correct, you should receive it with owl post in the morning on your special day.

I know this is short but a longer letter and a gift will be waiting for you on your bed after your Quidditch practice today.

Happy birthday, Theodora.

Bill

Theodora was staring at a letter as if it was a death threat – all color left her face and she forgot how to breathe. She can’t be reading this correctly, Bill didn’t just send her a letter telling her he has a gift for her?

She closed her eyes, took another deep breath, opened her eyes back up, and reread the letter 5 more times. She wasn’t losing her mind, this letter was real. Her chest was falling and rising fast, her heart drumming loudly against her ribcage.

She knew she wasn’t over him but the way she was feeling – the anticipation of seeing what Bill got her – proved just how strong her feelings still were.

Another deep breath.

She has to calm down. It’s just a letter and just a small gift. She can’t afford to overthink this. They became really good friends over the summer so he sent her a little something – as a friend. That’s all, so she has to calm down.

“Oh, a letter from a boy.”

Theodora jumped in the air, hearing a voice behind her.

“Don’t you know it’s not nice to read a letter behind someone’s shoulder, Myrtle?” Theodora said with a shaky voice. “What got you all agitated and annoyed?” Myrtle felt offended.

“Never you mind, Myrtle.” Theodora put the letter back in the envelope and put it inside her bag.

“Where are you going?” Myrtle questioned when Theodora exited the stall and headed toward the exit door.

“I have Quidditch practice.”

“But I thought we were going to talk about boys.” Myrtle cried.

“No, thank you.” Theodora tried not to look terrified of that idea and rushed out of the bathroom.

—

“Cork, what is it with you today! Don’t you know how to score!” Angelina Johnson shouted across the Quidditch pitch.

“Sorry, I’ll try harder!” Theodora yelled back and sighed.

She couldn’t concentrate at practice at all. She was mad with herself for not waiting to open Bill’s letter after she got back to her dormitory. All she could think about was the fact that he wrote to her, that he remembered it was her birthday and that lingering question in the back of her mind why...why did he send her a gift?

“Give her a break, Angie. It’s her birthday.” Fred flew to Angelina and sent her a wink.

“And she’s on her period.” George appeared on Angelina’s other side.

“You didn’t just tell me that, George.” Angelina pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath before flying away from them.

“What? What did I say?” George turned to his brother.

“Girls.” Fred shrugged.

“Okay, team! Let’s try this again before we all become snowballs.” Angelina said to her teammates.

Theodora frowned and positioned herself next to Katie Bell, who was shaking on her broom. Playing Quidditch while it was snowing sucked. Theodora just wanted it to be over so she could go take a shower and crawl into her bed. She didn’t feel like celebrating her birthday at all. She hated that she couldn’t kill the curiosity in her head – the never-stopping question of what is waiting for her in her dormitory.

“You okay?” Fred whispered to Theodora once the practice was over.

“I just wasn’t feeling it and I don’t like flying in the snow. My fingers are freezing.” It wasn’t the whole truth but she wasn’t lying either.

“You’ll get warm soon enough.” George giggled.

“Okay, the practice is over. Are you going to tell me now what your big surprise is?” Theodora raised her eyebrows.

“Patience, oh, little one.” Fred patted her on the head.

“Just meet us in the common room in 10 minutes.” George tried to hide his grin but failed.

Theodora rolled her eyes and walked to the girl’s changing room. She took her time to change her clothes and she took the longest route back to the Gryffindor Tower, trying to deny herself the fact that she couldn’t wait to see what Bill got her. The twins said 10 minutes – she has to give them time to prepare whatever they have planned. This wasn’t about Bill at all – she lied to herself.

She stopped in front of the common room, the Fat Lady waiting for her to tell her the password.

Why was she making such a big deal out of this? It’s just a gift. She has to calm down.

After gathering the courage to say the password, the portrait hole opened and Theodora climbed inside.

“SURPRISE!”

She was so busy dusting her robes that she didn’t see a group of people standing in the middle of the common room. She jumped into the air, her hand on her chest as they scared the living ghost out of her.

A smile painted her face when she saw the familiar faces. Fred and George were standing on the sides, throwing confetti in the air. Ron, Harry, and Hermione smiling at her, holding birthday presents. Her three roommates were standing next to Ginny who had the biggest grin on her freckled face. Lee was singing happy birthday into a microphone and Angelina and Katie were waving two small Gryffindor flags.

Theodora didn’t know how to react. It was so nice that they threw her a little birthday party. Nobody has ever done that for her before. There was a table in the left corner with a punch bowl and cupcakes. Candles lit all around the room and a big Happy Birthday banner hanging from the ceiling.

After they all congratulated her and gave her the gifts, the crowd dispersed, and other Gryffindors joined the party. Some were drinking punch, others were eating cupcakes. A group decided to play Exploding Snap and most of the girls were giggling about something in front of the fireplace.

Theodora was leaning against a wall observing the guests of her party. She tried to enjoy it. She was so happy how it turned out and she was proud of the twins for pulling something like this off.

Her eyes escaped to her two best friends who were trying to sell Canary Cream to a third year, convincing him that it’s completely harmless, making Theodora shake her head and chuckle.

“Hi, Theo.”

She turned around to see Eddie, a boy in her year, stand next to her.

“I didn’t have a chance to wish you a happy birthday before.” He scratched the top of his head.

“Oh, it’s okay.” Theodora smiled at him.

“Well, happy birthday.” The boy said and hugged her awkwardly, despite Theodora’s extended hand – expecting a handshake.

“Thank you.”

“I...I wanted to ask you something and it’s okay if you say no,” Eddie mumbled, looking at the floor.

“Okay,” Theodora replied slowly.

“I kind of fancy you for a while now and...and I was wondering if you would like to go out with me sometime.” He blabbered.

“Oh.” Theodora breathed.

She didn’t expect that to come out of his mouth and didn’t know how to reply. She couldn’t deny that Eddie was extremely handsome – awkward but handsome. But she also couldn’t deny that she would rather be in her room, opening Bill’s present than talking to him which meant she wasn’t ready to move on.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. I’m flattered but I am kind of getting over someone.” She decided not to lie to him.

“Oh, I understand.” Eddie smiled sheepishly, trying not to sound disappointed. “Thank you for telling me the truth. Happy birthday again.”

Theodora nodded and bestowed him with a gentle smile. He turned on his heels and walked away.

“What’s wrong, Theo?” Fred leaned on the wall next to her.

“Don’t you like our surprise?” George bowed his head.

“I love it!” Theodora exclaimed. “I’m just tired and I was just asked out.”

She told the twins everything and it was killing her that she couldn’t discuss Bill’s letter with them but at the same time, she knew that they would tease her and make her go to her dorm to open the gift at once and she wanted to stall for as long as she could.

“By Eddie McNeal?” George sounded impressed.

“So when’s the big date?” Fred made a kissy face.

“I turned him down.” Theodora sighed.

Maybe she did that too quickly. Perhaps she should’ve said yes to him – he could help her get over Bill.

“Why?” George asked, puzzled.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Theodora replied honestly.

“Want to dance then?” Fred stepped in front of her and offered her his hand.

Theodora laughed, pushed herself away from the wall, and decided to forget about the world and spend her birthday with her amazing two friends.

—

It was 2 in the morning when Theodora started walking up the stairs to her dormitory. She had the biggest smile plastered on her face. She couldn’t believe how much fun she had with all her friends. This was definitely a birthday to remember.

She yawned as she reached her room and couldn’t wait to go to sleep. It wasn’t until she saw a rose, a letter, and a package that looked like a wrapped book on her bed that she realized she had so much fun that she forgot about Bill’s gift.

Her roommates were already asleep, which meant she could open it in private but it didn’t make her any less nervous.

She decided to unwrap the package first – just to get it over with and to avoid reading the letter for another minute or so.

She let out a silent gasp when she saw that Bill got her a book about how to start your own business. The book was on her reading list but she simply didn’t find the time to go to a Muggle bookstore and buy it.

She told Bill about the book one night when they were stargazing and she couldn’t believe he listened to her so attentively that he remembered she wanted to get it.

She put the book on her nightstand, excited to read it, and turned her gaze to the letter next to the rose. She hated how her heart was beating faster and faster in the anticipation of finally reading it.

She broke the seal and took two pieces of parchment out – Bill was not joking about this letter being longer.

Dear Theodora,

I hope my gift reached your dormitory and is set on the right bed. I was thinking for the longest time about what to buy for you and then I remembered the book you so enthusiastically talked about one night when we were outside observing the sky.

Hopefully, you didn’t already get it for yourself otherwise this will be one lousy present.

I wanted to gift it to you, to show my support and admiration of just how brave I think you are for standing up for yourself against your mother, supporting my brothers, and embarking on this journey with them.

I was thinking of getting you a white rose – knowing it’s your favorite color – but the symbol of a white rose is innocence and you, striving to achieve your dreams is more daring than innocent. I am proud of you for knowing what you want and not letting anyone tell you otherwise.

I hate to admit that I pondered for the longest time which color to get for you. I decided to go with orange in the end. It’s far from ordinary and they aren’t as common. Besides its meaning – being a symbol of enthusiasm and passion – it reminded me very much of how I see you.

You are incredibly gifted and extraordinary and people like you are hard to come by. You are enthusiastic and passionate about what you want to become and I wanted to get you something to remind you of that.

I hope I didn’t cross any lines with my gift. The last thing I would want is to make you uncomfortable on your special day.

Happy birthday again, Theodora.

Sending you a birthday hug,

Bill

Theodora sat on her bed with her mouth open. Her eyes, shining with tears – her eyelids gently fluttering – moved from the letter to the rose, untouched on her bed.

She picked it up and slowly brought it closer to her face. She closed her eyes and took a whiff of it – its beautiful smell filling her lungs.

She pressed the rose to her heart and reread the letter one more time, her mind completely blank. She didn’t know what to think of the letter at all. She definitely didn’t expect it to say what it did.

They were just friends, he was proud of her as a friend and friends can give each other flowers too, right?

She couldn’t allow herself to think too much about it – there was nothing she could do about the letter except to reply. Should she reply? And if so, what would she write back?

She tried remembering what Charlie sent her this morning, the owl waking her up by tapping on her window with her beak. She was friends with Charlie but he didn’t get her flowers. His letter was sweet and to the point – telling her he misses having her around, wishing her a happy birthday. Along with the letter he sent her a colorful beanie which he knitted himself ‘to warm you up when hot chocolate can’t’ – he explained in his letter.

She shook her head, smelling the rose again. Bill’s letter was just as friendly as Charlie’s and that’s all it is to it.

She put the rose inside a glass she had on her nightstand and disappeared under the covers, clutching Bill’s letter in her hand. With the help of the light coming from her wand, she reread it two more times before going to sleep.

Who was she fooling, thinking she’ll be able to fall asleep. She reread Bill’s words so many times that she knew them by heart now. She couldn’t stop thinking about it and she couldn’t stop beating herself with the question if she should reply to him or not.

Two more hours have passed and she was getting annoyed with herself. She has never spent a sleepless night thinking about a boy before. She can’t let this get to her. It was just a birthday present and she’s going to prove it to herself!

She got up, walked to her desk, and sat down. She picked up her quill and a piece of parchment and started replying to Bill. She will send him an owl in the morning and when Bill won’t reply to her, she will know for certain that she is overthinking this whole situation.

Dear Bill,

the gift reached me as you planned and I am deeply touched by it. I can’t believe you remembered which book I was blabbering about over and over. I was certain you stopped listening the second I mentioned it was about business.

Don’t you worry, I didn’t have the time to buy it for myself so you spared me some time and nobody else got it for me since you were the only one I told about it. I know what I am going to be doing for the next week when I don’t study for N.E.W.T.s!

I would like to thank you – not only for the gift but for being so supportive of me and your brothers. I know it’s a tricky path we are walking on but I feel it in my heart that it’s the right one.

My mother didn’t even congratulate me on my birthday so with everything I told you last summer you can imagine how much your support means to me. It’s nice to know that you are appreciated and cheered on and you have done just that with your letter, the book, and the rose.

The rose. I reckon I never saw an orange one before and you’re right, it isn’t ordinary at all – it’s beautiful and it smells divine. I am thinking of casting a spell on it so it doesn’t wither away. It’s a nice reminder of why I am doing what I am and I can’t find the words to express myself how thankful I am for it.

I have to admit that your gift pleasantly surprised me and it was far from crossing any lines or making me uncomfortable. It was a nice conclusion to my special day.

Thank you for the birthday wishes and the very thoughtful gift – it left me speechless.

Returning the birthday hug,

Theodora

#harry potter fanfiction #the weasleys #weasley family #hp imagine #the burrow #harry potter imagine #weasley fanfiction #bill weasley #harry potter #wizarding world #bill weasley fluff #bill weasley fanfiction #bill weasley x oc #bill weasley imagine #summer at the burrow #bill weasley romance #fred weasley #george weasley #charlie weasley

30 notes · View notes

vivianweasley · 4 years ago

Text

Someone Better (Prologue)

Pairing: Draco Malfoy X Reader, Fred Weasley X Reader

Summary: You always thought that Draco was the one for you, but the war changed everything. After the war, you were trying to find yourself, but Fred Weasley seemed to find you first.

Warnings: angst, mentions of blood, war, anxiety, poor writing

Word count: 1.2K

A/N: Hi guys! So I’m making this into a series. I don’t know if anyone would want to read the whole series but I will still keep writing it lol. Part 1 is angsty but the rest would probably all be fluff? Also, Fred is going to be in the next part! Oh and I was listening to “Dynasty” by Miia while writing this part. Anyways, hope you guys would like it:)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Epilogue

Please do NOT repost my work or translate it on another site without permission! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcomed:)

You guess people could say that you and Draco Malfoy were what the muggles would call high school sweethearts.

You and Draco grew up together since your parents were friends.

But you two weren’t always friends. You could still remember when you two first met, you both rolled your eyes at each other. You even made fun of him the entire second year for falling off his broom during quidditch.

You two bickered and fought, but you’ve never separated from each other. You would always eat, go to your classes, and do your school work together. And before you could know, a feeling other than friendship started to grow in your hearts.

One month before the Yule ball, Draco confessed his feelings to you and you were overjoyed that your feeling for him were reciprocated. You then went to the Yule ball as his date and his girlfriend. While he was holding you and you two were dancing the night away, you thought the rest of your life was probably going to be like this, without a doubt.

During fifth year, you even joined Umbridge’s Inquisitorial Squad with Draco, even though you’ve never agreed with anything that pink toad had to say. When the Weasley twins blew up the school with fireworks, you even cheered a bit when no one could see you. But Draco wasn’t so happy that day. He held you in his arms and complained about the incident for hours.

At that time, you never even thought about being with anyone else. Draco Malfoy was there with you for your entire childhood and almost your entire adolescence. So of course he was going to be with you for the rest your life, right?

But real life wasn’t some romantic comedies. High school sweethearts would eventually take on separate paths. And the one for you turned out to be just another passer-by in your life. And Merlin, you all knew there was a war coming.

Beginning from sixth year, you felt like Draco was turning into a different person. During the summer, he didn’t come visit you and he didn’t even write to you.

What was worse was that even your parents told you to stay away from him. You were scared and you started to lose sleep. How could you sleep peacefully when you were constantly worrying about that something bad might happen?

You thought going back to school and finally seeing him could help alleviate your anxiety, but you were wrong. Draco started to avoid you and sometimes he would even skip classes. Even when you two were finally facing each other, he still didn’t talk much and he sounded so cold, so distant.

Every time when you asked him if everything was alright, he would always shrug it off and say that everything’s fine. But you could see for yourself. You could see he was getting skinnier and skinnier. His already pale skin was turning into a sickly grey tone and everyone could see the dark circles under his tired eyes. Yet he refused to tell you anything, leaving you to keep torturing yourself with all the anxiety and terribly vivid imaginations in your mind.

Then you saw the dark mark on his arm. Your breathing stopped for a few seconds. It all made sense now. Your parents were friends with the Malfoys, but they were no death eaters. So it made sense for them to tell you to stay away from Draco.

You were so scared. Not because he was a death eater, but because you were afraid that something bad would happen to him. You felt like you were counting down everyday, until one day he would finally leave you forever.

And one day, what you feared finally came true. You heard people talking in the Great Hall that Draco and Harry Potter was dueling in the sixth floor boy’s bathroom. They said Potter almost killed Draco. They said that Draco was lying in a pool of blood and there were several long and deep cuts on his body. If Snape didn’t find him on time, he would be dead within a few minutes.

You ran to the hospital wing as fast as you could, but Madam Pomfrey didn’t allow anyone to visit. So you just waited outside.

You didn’t know how long you’ve waited. It seemed like it was already evening and maybe even pass dinner time. It was a few hours, but you felt like you’ve waited for years.

When Draco finally walked out, you ran to hug him. You were very careful and gentle for you were afraid that his wounds might rip apart again. You buried your face in his chest, trying to feel his heart beat, his warmth, everything that could prove that he was still alive.

“Draco, what did you do? Why would Potter do this to you?”

The hand that was gently rubbing your back stopped abruptly, “Y/N, I...”

You knew he was trying to come up with an excuse again and you just couldn’t take this anymore. You dragged him to a deserted hallway, “What are you doing lately, Draco? Please, please just tell me! Do you know how worried I am for you?” Your hand were gripping tightly on his arm for you were afraid that he might run away again.

He sighed, “I can’t tell you. You could be in danger. You could die. Do you understand?”

“I already feel like I’m dying.” You weren’t lying. It has been month that you haven’t ate properly or slept without tossing and turning for hours. Even when you did fall asleep, you were having nightmares about terrible things happening to Draco. But he was too occupied by that thing that he couldn’t tell you, and failed to notice that you were also hurting.

“Draco, I know this is about You-Know-Who, but you don’t have to face this alone. We can face this together! We can think of a way together! There has to be another way!” Tears were forming in your eyes, but you managed to keep them at bay. You wanted to look like a logical person who can face those problems with him.

“No Y/N...There’s no other way.” He broke free from your grip, “If I don’t do this, my family...even you...you could all be dead! He chose me, Y/N, I have to do this!”

His body was trembling and his eyes were red, looking like he was also trying to hold back his tears.

You have secretly followed him before and saw him crying in the bathroom, but you cowered at that time. You didn’t walk over to him and give him a hug because you knew he didn’t like to show his vulnerability to anyone.

But you hugged him this time, trying to make up for all the times before that he has cried alone. He hugged you too and for a moment you thought everything was finally fine, that he was finally going to open up to you, that you could finally face this together. But after the longest minute in your life, you just heard him say, “I’m sorry Y/N...but I...we can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry...you...you deserve someone better.”

And before you could even understand what he meant, he just let go of you and walked away.

That was it, the end of the relationship that you thought would last a life time.

And it took you years to finally begin to understand what it meant for someone as proud as Draco Malfoy to say something like “you deserve someone better”.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fanfic #fred weasley fanfic

272 notes · View notes

k0dzukwen · 4 years ago

Text

ʚ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞 ɞ

- ”I would’ve never thought I would have to say goodbye to my paradise so soon...”

pairing: tendou x gn!reader

genre: angst, tragedy

word count: 1.7k

song inspo: mr. loverman by ricky montgomery mixed with as the world caves in by matt maltese

warnings: major character death, mentions of eating disorder, mild cussing, hospitals,

pre a/n: if you wanna blame someone for this idea blame rex orange county, jjk newest ep, and my bestfriend ANKNKA ok but fr...i was thinking of who to do for this for about like..30 mins, it was between tendou, kita, and atsumu. i’ll try to do atsumu tonight because i have a AMAZING prompt for him ok? anyways enjoy this :))

“I can show you everything”

You wanted to be shown everything once, you were so eager to go everywhere and memorize every detail. And there was one person who you wanted to travel everywhere with

Satori Tendou

You were captivated by him, thoughts of him fogged your mind daily and you could barely focus. You knew he was the one for you that day you first started as a manager and he offered you candy, along with asking if you read manga. His smile when you said yes and accepted his snack made you melt on the inside, you practically started floating when he sat next to you and started talking about character complexes and powers. You listened to him for hours that day, you secretly wished he had invited you over so he could talk to you more. You went to sleep that night reminiscing over every word, every sentence, every laugh you both shared.

Were you really that head over heels after one day?

As the days went by you and Tendou grew closer, becoming best friends within weeks. Yet the sparkle in your eyes when he smiled and laughed never faded, the warm feeling from being with him remained with you only growing stronger. You always fell too easily which left you vulnerable to getting hurt, yet with him you wanted to open yourself up completely hoping he would do the same. Months turned into years and before you knew it, You guys were graduating. Everything went by so fast you would believe you blinked and suddenly became a third year, now you were laying in the grass behind the dorms stargazing with your bestfriend who you had unironically fallen in love with. Have you told him how you felt? Nope

“Do you know what paradise is?”, Tendou stared up at the sky the slight light from the lights nearby illuminating his face and causing his eyes to sparkle

“Something or someone you find comfort in, Something you’re so addicted to just doing it or being around it brings you unimaginable joy. You can’t and won’t imagine ever leaving it or stopping it voluntarily” You sighed and looked over at him, gazing into his red eyes, “Why do you ask?”

He laughed and closed his eyes, breathing deeply “This is my paradise...I don’t think I’m ready to leave..” He opened his eyes and smiled, “But you know, This is a part of growing up right?”

“Ugh..” You huff and sit up, “What the hell is growing up anyways?”

Tendou sat up and shifted closer, leaning in so his nose could almost touch yours, “You aren’t old enough to understand”

Your face flushed a deep pink, he was so close to your face if you accidentally moved closer your lips would meet. You smiled at him and burst out laughing, laughing so hard you had to lay back down and hold your stomach. He laughed too, laying next to you and continuing to point out constellations like nothing had happened. What did he even mean “You aren’t old enough to understand”, he was only one year older than you so what did he mean?

Did you really want to know?

You never really understood the term “growing up”, deep down you wanted to stay a a kid forever. You knew that growing up brought unwanted pain and stress and even trauma, if you weren’t stressed with college enough you also had to deal with paying for bills on your studio apartment and making money from the cafe you worked at. And to make it all worse your best friend, the guy you were lovesick for was moving across the country to pursue his dreams

In Paris

You always asked why Paris, didn’t he want to go pro in volleyball? Wasn’t that his paradise? You knew you wanted the best for him but deep down you didn’t want the love of your life to move across the country, you knew you would both lose communication with eachother, you knew he would forget about you and you didn’t want to bear that pain. Yet he didn’t want to listen, he left to paris and exactly what you predicted happened. You started off calling him every day along with texting him, sending him pictures of what you did in everyday life. You didn’t have many friends so you often found yourself waiting for his reply, you knew his job was time consuming but impatience still got the best of you. Hours without a reply turned into days, the realization that you had lost your love ate at your soul. You found yourself skipping meals, and slacking off in school. You knew it was unhealthy and that you needed to stay strong but you couldn’t, his laugh and smile lingered in your dreams. You missed him dearly, but still couldn’t get the confidence to dial his number. One day you couldn’t take it and booked a flight out to Paris, you thought at the moment it would be the best option.

You never even left the hotel

You paced around the room, the TV playing in the background. You knew the chocolate shop he worked at and had a way of transportation but couldn’t bring yourself to go, what if he didn’t remember you? What if he had someone else? You tried to talk yourself up, motivating yourself to press the button

“God damn Y/N just-” You were cut off by a breaking news report, Your gaze switched from your hands to the TV. You squinted at the screen as it showed a report of a young male involved in a car collision, you didn’t even know what the instinct was but you ran out your hotel room down to the lobby, you busted through the entrance and started to run to the hospital the news report specified, tears welled up in your eyes as you ran praying that it was just a mistake. You prayed that the male in critical condition wasn’t who you thought it was, you stumbled and bumped into people as you ran saying a quick “I’m sorry” and keeping your pace. You arrived at the hospital and bust through the doors, running up to the desk

“Please miss, Who was the man involved in the car collision? The one in critical condition?” Tears pricked at your eyes as you stared at the woman in front of you expectantly

“Oh, at first we labeled him a John Doe but after further inspection we have confirmed the mans name is...Satori Tendou, We really shouldn’t give out this info but you seem like a family member or-”

The nurse continued on but you couldn’t hear, everything went silent as if you had just became deaf, Your knees felt weak and threatened to give out. It couldn’t be him, You shook your head and covered your ears despite the fact you couldn’t hear anything, everything started to swirl together like a fever dream. Thats right, it was just a dream, This wasn’t happening. You were gonna wake up from this crazy situation and go see your bestfriend, You were gonna finally see your best friend and he was going to be alive and healthy. Everything was going to be just fine, This was just a sick nightmare thats it

“Excuse me, this is his room. I’m sorry but he has about 20 mins left to live, he can hear but can’t move or respond to anything...I’m sorry”

The doctor patted your back and left the room, gently closing the door to avoid startling you. You hadn’t spoken a word since the news was given to you and of course, you didn’t take it well. You broke down completely, the nurses had to escort you to a room and try to calm you down

But even now you felt nothing but numbness

You stared at Tendous body blankly, gazing at all the tubes coming out of him, the beeping of the heart monitor and pumping of the life support machine kept the room from being completely silent. You felt tears well up into your eyes again and this time you didn’t fight them, you slowly walked towards his bed and gently touched his face. You could feel his face flinch and heard a wimper escape from his body, you let out a quiet sob and placed your hand over your mouth. You remembered how the doctor said he could hear you and feel everything

Feel Everything

He could probably feel the tubes and they were probably painful, He probably didn’t think that life was worth so much pain.

“Tendou...” Your voice cracked and you sniffed, “I’m so sorry...I should have been there..for you” You sighed and sat down in a chair, leaning on the bed “Did I ever tell you about my paradise? Well unlike you...My paradise was a person, They were super funny and their smile could brighten anyones day” You smiled at the last part, unknowingly laying your head on the bed, “They had am amazing laugh too...It was so contagious I learned to memorize it, whenever I was around them...I felt like I was complete. I felt like I had a life worth living when they were around, I loved them..letting them go was the hardest thing, but at least they were safe and happy...” You started to choke up, tears streaming down your face, “You’re my paradise Tendou...I’m in love with you and I want to stay here forever if It means I’ll be with you”. You looked up at the monitor noticing how it was slowing down, You didn’t know much about medicine and medical things but you knew that wasn’t a good sign. You gently grabbed his cold hand and squeezed it, you blinked through tears and opened your mouth. You didn’t know what to say until the monitor started to rapidly beep, fear shot through your body causing your tears to flow faster and your body to shake. You broke your gaze from the monitor and looked at Tendou, his skin was pale and you could barely see his face through all the tubes

“I would have never thought...I would have to say goodbye to my paradise so soon. I love you Satori, I’m sorry I was too late”

↳𝐞𝐧𝐝

post a/n: currently sitting here crying, i’m not even attached to Tendou like that and i’m HURT why do i do these things to myself i’m sorry to whovever reads this </3

#haikyu x reader #tendou satori #haikyu angst #haikyuu!!#hq x reader #hq tendou #tendou angst #tendou x reader #tendou x y/n #tendou imagine #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu tendou #tendou

47 notes · View notes

blackberry-gingham · 4 years ago

Note

if you haven’t already, could you do something with being childhood bffs with george and it developing into romance?

Aw, this is cute 🥺 of course!

Ik I've done the teddy!george to Beatle George romance, so for this I'm going to do like actual kids to like high school/teddy! George romance :)

Also, this is super long sorry, but idk how to do a cut so oof 💀 anyway, enjoy!

---

You've known him since forever, the boy with the raven hair and funny eyebrows.

You're earliest memories go back to growing up on the streets of Liverpool. Causing trouble on the playground, getting into mischief behind your mother's backs...

He was your best friend. Still is, as a matter of fact. Until the day everything changed.

You're story starts off on a playground, during a mild day in mid August. The sun is shining brightly and the birds are chirping and flitting through the trees happily. If only you could say the same for your mood.

The old swing set creaks methodically as you and George go back and forth.

It's your last summer before your senior year of high school. You two have been going to the same school this whole time at least, but you can't help this nagging feeling that you and George are going to drift apart after school.

He's changed so much since you were kids.

Lately he's made some... other friends. It's not that that's bothering you of course. No, it's more so that they're all teddy boys. And now, so is George. Not to mention they fancy themselves a start up band, which has only been eating up more of George's time away from you.

Besides, you have no idea what to expect with this final year. Honestly, you're scared as it is, and even the thought of losing your best friend is too much to bear.

"Whatcha thinking about square?", George detects the worry undulating off of you, despite the neutral expression on your face. He knows you too well.

You snap out of your thoughts and paint a smile on your face, "Oh, nothing! Are you looking forward to your final year?"

George fixes you with a look. He doesn't believe that nothing's wrong, but knows to not push you if you don't want to talk about it. "Suppose so, although more just to get it over with. Oh, that reminds me! The lads and I have a gig lined up in a few weeks, can you believe it?"

You're heart drops, and you fear you can already feel him slipping away. "That's wonderful George, I can't believe it!"

His face lights up, "Isn't it? We're going to the top I tell you, I'm sure of it!" George digs his boots into the mulch abruptly, and you slow to a stop as well. "Um, I don't suppose you'd come to the gig, will you?"

You fix him with a suspicious look, there's something afoot here... "When and where?"

"The pub downtown, two months from tomorrow, at 3 am", George's voice gets quiter as he goes. The old him would know not to ask something like that in a million years. After all, your parents would never allow it. And if you got caught...

"George... I-"

He cuts you off, suddenly feeling bad it seems, "No no! I-it's alright, I shouldn't have asked. It's not right, you have school and all"

"So do you, ya know", you lean in and laugh a bit, trying to lighten the mood. Thankfully the tension seems to melt and George laughs, brushing off the accusation. At last he stands and offers to walk you home. You agree and take a few steps after him...

...Only to trip over an old piece of tarp sticking up from under the mulch.

You let out a yelp, but before you hit the ground, George catches you. He helps you up right and holds onto you for a moment to make sure you're steady, "That was close! You alright square?"

"Fine, thanks to you", you laugh, then kick some mulch over the exposed tarp. "Damn thing..."

George laughs and the two of you walk on, "Say, do you remember when we were kids and you fell off that same swing set?"

"Ugh, how could I forget! I still have the scar on my knee", you pout.

"Really? I didn't know it was that bad"

"It certainly was! Don't you remember, after I fell you picked me up an-"

"...Carried you all the way home?", George finishes the thought for you.

You smile distantly, reminiscing on better days. "Yeah..."

The two of you talk a bit more about your younger days. All sorts of fun and embarrassing stories come to light as you make your way through town. For a moment, you feel like you're with the old George again.

And then, it all screeches to a halt as you arrive on your doorstep.

"Well, here you are then!"

"Yeah... Um, see you tomorrow per chance?"

George's face falls, "Oh... Actually I have practice with the lads... Then I'm helping with chores around the house all this weekend. M-maybe we can hangout again next week?"

The smile you give him doesn't quite reach your eyes, even as you agree that that sounds like a good plan.

It turns out that date does get pushed back a bit more, but you're thankful to have at least one last day together before school starts up again. Things are normal for a while. Well, the new normal, that is. George tries to be in three places at once between you, the lads, and school, and you're worried for him.

You keep waiting to see which of the three he's going to drop to take a load off his schedule... And you're deathly afraid it'll be you.

But somehow he manages to juggle all three, and before you know it, the night of the gig is upon you. George brings the topic up with you momentarily at school, just to give it another try. You’ve been feeling so estranged from him lately that you want nothing more then to say yes...

You just... can’t.

George says he understands, but he can’t mask the disappointment in his eyes. It’s the last look you see from him that day. However, that night, is a different story.

Clack... Clack. Clack clack... Clack.

A strange noise rouses you from sleep and you get up to investigate. It’s coming from the window... You peak outside to find George out in your yard, throwing rocks at the glass. He sees your outline and starts waving his arms franticly. Quickly, you check the time. It’s 2:03 am.

You heft the window open and George immediately starts chattering. “Morning square! I’m on my way to the pub, I thought maybe you could just sneak out with me since you want to go!”

“Are you mad? You’ll wake the whole house!”, you whisper angrily.

George drops his voice a bit too, but refuses to leave. He says a few more suave and charming words, but more then anything, you can’t deny that you do want to go with him... It takes a little convincing, but you make up your mind to go. You disappear to throw on some going out clothes and navigate your way down out the window and over the roof. It’s a little trick you learned from when you were young.

You haven’t done that in ages...

At last, you and George race off to the bus stop and as though sneaking out past midnight wasn’t exciting enough, the way he grabbed your hand to pull you along through the dark sent your heart soaring.

And when you arrive just in the nick of time the gig to start, you almost hate to admit how much fun you’re having. To think, you almost missed this... The boys are amazing up on stage and the crowd loves them. While you must say, they are all good, you didn’t take your eyes off of George the entire time.

One of the teds, Paul you think, steps up to the mic. “Thank you, you’ve all been wonderful! But before we go, there’s one last song we want to play for you... This goes out to all the sweethearts tonight, it’s called Love me do!”

It’s not on the itinerary, but the crowd whoops and applauds regardless. You focus your attention back to George and he winks at you. In that moment, you experience a feeling you’ve never had in your life. Your blood runs cold, yet you feel on fire. Your fingers and toes tingle, yet you still have complete control over your body. You feel weightless, and yet as though you could collapse.

The song is wonderful, but you were hardly able to pay attention, you were so busy mulling over what that wink meant...

When everything is over, George hurries to catch up with you after the show. He seems so alive.

"You were amazing up there Georgie, absolutely wonderful!"

"Really? You liked it?"

"Of course! I didn't know you were so talented! Why have you never played for me before?", You laugh, but George seems to grow shy all of a sudden.

"I didn't think you were interested... But uh, now I know, I suppose!", he laughs, trying to mend the awkwardness before you can interject. "You know what? We should be getting you home, yeah?"

You whip around to look at the clock. It's nearly 4:30. When you turn back to George, he can already see the panic in your eyes. Without another word, you both race out to the bus stop and wait anxiously to catch a ride.

George tries to make a little small talk and reasure you, but you're having a hard time loosening up. All you can think about is what'll happen if you're caught...

And when you get home, your worst fears are realized. Your dad is sitting on the front porch and the lightning your room has since been turned on. George goes to hold your hand, but you nudge him away as you trudge to your doom.

Your dad doesn't say a word. You already know how much trouble you're in. He looks at George with a deadly scowl etched into his face.

"Sir, I'm sorry, it was m-"

The door slams in his face, and all George can hear is the sound of yelling from the other side as he's forced to walk away.

You're not allowed to see George outside of school for a looooong time. Which is almost fine with you. You can't believe you listened to him...

George tries to apologise to you fervently the next time he sees you, but you blow him off. It takes a few days before you speak to him again, and George feels crushed. That night couldn't have ended more terribly. There was so much he wanted to tell you... But, he can't let you go.

Over time you come around to better terms with your lifetime friend. It takes some work, but George is determined to restore your trust in him. And slowly but surely, your grievance becomes forgotten. He hasn't spend this much time with you since you were children. And honestly? He hasn't been this fun since then either...

He takes you out for ice cream on weekends. You go to the park after school together nearly everyday, that you can. And once you're officially allowed to spend time with him, he even invites you over to watch practice with the lads.

And before you know it, winter has passed and spring is nearly gone too. It's the end of the year and there's one last hurrah to come before graduation. Prom season is upon you.

You know who you want to ask you, but you fear it's too much to even hope. But then, one sunny day...

Clack... Clack. Clack clack... Clack.

Curious, you get up from your desk and wander over to the window. You throw it open and look out. There in the lawn, George stands with a large, handwritten sign above his head. He looks up at you with big, puppy eyes, and he's never been more afraid in his whole life.

Prom? The sign reads.

You scamper out of your window, and nearly trip in your excitement to say yes. George drops his sign and catches you before you hit the ground. You jump up, alight with excitement, "Yes, yes!", you can't stop bouncing, even as George holds you steady.

George smiles at you with an affection you've never seen before. He doesn't say a word. Instead, he picks you up and gives you a spin while you yelp in surprise. When he puts you back down, the two of you share a long look and you think, there's no one in the whole world you'd rather give your first kiss to.

As though he can read your mind, George leans in slowly, giving you an option. But you can't contain yourself, you rush forward and throw your arms around his leather covered shoulders. The smell of his musky hair gel and warm leather jacket wash over you as he holds you tight.

It's the kind of embrace you'd grow familiar with. You don't know it now, but you'll find yourself wrapped in it for the rest of your days.

#the beatles #george harrison x reader #friends to lovers #teddy!george #highschool au #all the tropes lmao #Beatle fics

29 notes · View notes

xseaxwitchxkpop · 4 years ago

Text

But Not Today

A/N: Hello y’all. This is a heavier fic and is a way for me to channel me feelings as most of my fics are and will be, especially because it comforts me that people out there feel the same as I do and hopefully through these fics find they are also not alone. I struggle with depression and suicidal ideation/thoughts like many of you do and there’s too many fics that glorify and glamorize the hardships and always end with cure fluffy “I’m always there for you.” No, some people don’t have others to talk to and sometimes the mental illness wins. In all sincerity, if you are feeling like you have no one to talk to, no to listen to you, you can always PM me or send me an anon because I know that feeling well and it’s not a good one. If you want a part two, lemme know, otherwise how it ends is how it ends.

Disclaimers/CW: suicidal thoughts, suicidal actions, pills/overdose, drinking, depression (lemme know if I missed something)

Requested: NO

Group: ATEEZ -- Wooyoung

Word Count: 1,847

This month has been absolute hell and is why you find yourself down the rabbithole. Sure, you have friends who have reassured you that they are there to help emotionally but you’ve been fucked over too many times in the past to truly believe any of that.

Which is why you find yourself where you are now.

The TV plays on the background but you process none of the audio. The sounds of the city play like a symphony throughout your apartment, but you don’t smile and sway. No, you, on the couch, hunched over with elbows on your knees, staring at a pill bottle and a bottle of whiskey, is how the music finds you, empty.

You don’t have the energy to cry, you don’t have the energy to move, you don’t have the energy to...exist. Breathing is now too hard, and the stillness of your body is reflected in the stillness of the apartment, save for the television.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you rub your hands on your face and then once again take up the staring contest with the pill bottle. After a beat of silence, your right hand moves to take the bottle of whiskey and swig it hard, the familiar burning sensation in your throat doing absolutely nothing for you as it hasn’t been for the past couple of weeks.

Today was a battle that you were on the verge of losing but you don’t know how to accept the loss. Stabbing or cutting yourself is too messy and would you even hit the right vein to die fast enough? You could jump from the apartment complex’s rooftop and would certainly die on impact, but that’s too public, you want to go quietly. Putting a bullet through your brain seemed like a good option, but it’s too much noise and you have no idea the first place to start looking into gun ownership in Korea. You’ve known people you have attempted suicide by pill overdose, and it wasn’t the most effective method of killing oneself, but it was certainly one of the easiest and one of the quietest ways to go, especially if you could die in your sleep.

In this past month, you’ve been distancing yourself further and further from your friends who began to worry about you dearly, but, to you, not enough. None of them bothered to try to see you, come by your place, just shot you texts and a couple of calls saying they’re always there or some other bullshit. But Wooyoung was extremely persistent in this. He knows you liked your space and the last time he tried to help you emotionally you blew up at him and dug into his heart like a knife, attacking him in such a way that left him in tears rather than you.

Tonight, though, Wooyoung decided to blow up your phone at every chance he could between practice with the boys and eating and doing other errands he needed that day. You might have hurt him in the past, but he still cares deeply for you regardless.

However, you couldn’t be bothered to pick up the phone and answer him, so your cell was on Do Not Disturb.

You’re not sure what came over you, but you lift yourself off the couch and shuffle to your door, slowly slipping your feet out of your slippers and slowly slipping your feet into your sneakers, leaning down to loosely tie the laces.

Your grip on the wooden door is gentle, twisting the knob and pulling it open a more caring act than it should have been. As the door shut behind you, you, void of keys, wallet, phone, communication, identification, didn’t look back or bother to double-check if it closed all the way. Guided by something, you’re not sure what, you move forward, your feet shuffling towards the elevator and taking a ride down.

At the first floor you step out, a solemn step that holds no purpose, to you at least. Perhaps fate is guiding you somewhere, perhaps you’re guiding yourself, perhaps nothing guides you and it’s all meaningless.

The streets and sidewalks glisten with water, reflecting the neon lights of clubs, the primary colors of 24/7 convenience stores, storing the sounds of honking taxis, shared laughs of lovers, and the bustling of a street corner and the calmness of another. As life goes, as life is, as life will be.

You can’t say that you’ll miss this -- fake order in a world of chaos. You can’t say that you’ll miss that -- imagined purpose for a meaningless existence.

As you wander, you find yourself taking in nothing at all and everything at once, your alcohol-idled mind creating figures that aren’t there and sounds that don’t exist. Yet when your vision clears again, you find yourself standing at the barrier of a bridge on the highway, looking down into the vast expanse of the ocean; you’ve apparently walked for quite a while.

The depths of the water below look inviting, dark and crashing together, a blanket of sorrow which is oddly comforting to your empty mind, perhaps because it makes you feel something. With your arms folded, you lean your full weight onto the barrier, contemplating whether or not you should jump -- sure, it would be a bit of effort to hoist yourself over said barrier, but it’s a guaranteed death unlike an overdose.

“YAH, Y/N, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” A male voice paired with boots slapping on wet concrete worms its way into your ears, but you have no reaction; the beckoning of the ocean nearly drowns out his voice anyway.

Suddenly, you feel a strong hand grip your upper arm and whip you around, forcing you to stare into the fearful eyes of the owner of the voice. His other hand came up and gripped your other arm just as tightly, searching your face, your eyes, for something...something...a sign of something.

You took a moment to observe this man, taking in the way his eyes were red and puffy, the fear and relief a sharp contrast shaking hands in his eyes, and a shiny upper lip, probably from snot from his crying earlier.

You feel Wooyoung pull you into him tightly, barely allowing you to breathe. He squeezes you with nearly everything in him, the state of your apartment and the possibilities of what happened running through his head nonstop.

It was nearing 11PM and Wooyoung was genuinely concerned that you weren’t picking up. You were not doing well for a while, he could tell by your abrupt and simple messages, declining every chance to hang out and/or catch dinner, refusing to even take a walk together. But this time was different -- you were flat out ignoring him and not answering any of his calls or texts and this had him greatly on edge. It reminded him of a friend he used to have in high school who was so hard on himself that he nearly killed himself right in front of Wooyoung; Wooyoung couldn’t go through that again.

He decided to tell the boys that he’s going to your apartment to check up on you and the other boys, worried about you as well, told him that they’re here to help in any way they could.

He travelled to your apartment, using the spare key you gave him to get through the lobby door and using your access code for the lock on the door. The scene that met his eyes made his heart drop into his stomach and a sense of dread fell over him.

Your kitchen floor was scattered with shards of porcelain from one or two of your dinner plates, he couldn’t tell. The vase of flowers that he sent a few days ago were knocked over on the counter, creating a puddle on the table and a wet spot on your carpet, the lip of the glass vase chipped. The TV was running, some stupid drama that was out of character for you to watch. But the coffee table and its contents is what made him feel genuine fear for the first time in a long time.

The bottle of whiskey was half-full, sitting next to a bottle of pills. He made his way over, carefully, brushing porcelain shards out of the way with his foot, as he sat exactly where you once sat not too long ago. He took in your cell you left on the floor near the balcony windows and the keys sitting by the TV and your wallet laid in front of your bedroom door that was open.

His attention turned back to the pill bottle and he reached out a shaky hand, reading the label and having trouble keeping his eyes dry. He opened it, hoping against all hope that you didn’t open it, that maybe, maybe you changed your mind at the last second.

Uncontrollable tears left his eyes and snot started running down his nose and his breathing quickened and his chest constricted as he found the bottle unsealed, meaning you did something he hoped you didn’t do.

You mumble something and Wooyoung didn’t quite catch what you said, but he could ask later; all he wants to focus on is you, in his arms, very much real, very much alive, very much on planet Earth, very much here. He breathes in your scent deeply as a reassurance to himself and he doesn’t plan on letting you out of his sight any time soon.

Yet you had no reaction. You just stand there, letting him do what he needs to do to convince himself that you’ll still be around after this, that the mix of the pills you took and the alcohol the bottle said explicitly to not take with the pills fogging your mind.

He eventually pulls away, looking back in your eyes for something, something, something. He notices they’re glazed over and out of focus, dread creeping back to him.

He cups your face in one of his hands and asks, “Were you going to jump?” His voice is shaky at best, doing poorly in concealing his fear, his rage, his dread, his every emotion currently.

“Maybe,” is what you answer. You look briefly back at the ocean, craning your neck a little to look directly at the welcoming ocean again then turn your attention back to Wooyoung. “But not today,” you continue. “Perhaps tomorrow, perhaps next week, perhaps next month, perhaps next year. But not today.”

You feel yourself about to collapse from the dangerous concoction in your veins but Wooyoung barely notices, his mouth running about something but you process nothing.

“My dear friend,” you mumble, and the sound of your voice shuts up the man in front of you, grabbing his attention.

“I’m...sleep...slee...wha’s it?...sleepy, yeah...sleepy,” you manage to get out before collapsing onto the boy, your consciousness slipping from you and a huff of air escaping from the other human presence from your impact.

#angsty hours #my works #wooyoung #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez imagine

15 notes · View notes

vexedtonightmares · 5 years ago

Note

Hi. I hope you have an amazing day/night. I had an idea for a fic. That Elliott saves lucas from a monster. Elliott is a demigod and tells lucas he is too and has to go to camp halfblood (percy Jackson au)

ok i’m gonna start by saying that i’m literally so sorry for taking MONTHS to answer this, but i loved this prompt so much i wanted to give it the attention it deserved 🥺now, that attention went from a small 1k fic to a roughly 20k three part fic because i have No Chill and accidentally came up with an entire plot, but at least i’m sharing it now!! i hope you enjoy!!

you can read part 1 here on ao3 or down below the cut 💖

love and other divine interventions

part i. identity (8.4k)

Look, Lucas didn’t want to be a half-blood. What the hell was that even supposed to mean? It sounded like a disease, the more he thought about it. Not that he thought about it often, he really tried not to, because most of all he didn’t care what it meant. Hadn’t killed him yet, had it?

Lucas had first been told that he was a half-blood by his mother when he was twelve. She said she was worried for his safety, and that she might have to send him to summer camp in America. He didn’t know what any of that meant, but he also knew that his mother wasn’t well sometimes, so he never thought too much about what she’d said and whether or not it meant more than he took it as.

A few years later, his mother had been put into an institution to help with her mental health, and Lucas had been sent from Paris to the states to live with an aunt and uncle he hardly knew. That was the second time someone called him a half-blood. He’d been minding his own business, walking home from school, and some kid who looked both older and younger than he was at the time had gasped, saying that Lucas was a half-blood and had to come with him if he wanted to be safe.

Lucas had learned about stranger danger, though, so instead he ran away and told his aunt and uncle what happened. Without any room for argument, his aunt and uncle packed up and moved halfway across the country. It was a bit of an excessive response, but Lucas was fourteen, he didn’t really have any say in the matter.

Something similar had happened again when he was sixteen, then seventeen, and each time his aunt and uncle packed up and moved at even the slightest hint of trouble. He knew that they were just worried about him, they’d lost their daughter, his cousin, back when she was about twelve years old, and they never found out what happened to her. Or so they told Lucas, when he asked.

He asked them what a half-blood was once, and they’d both told him to never say that word again. So, he hadn’t. He did write a letter to his mother, though, asking if she could explain what she’d meant. Everyone just thought she was crazy, but Lucas had never thought so. If she’d thought it was important for Lucas to know, it must have been.

When Lucas was eighteen, he went to university in New York. His aunt and uncle hadn’t wanted him to, but they wouldn’t let him go back to Paris, so this was the option they’d reluctantly agreed to.

Strange things had always seemed to follow him wherever he went, but those occurrences happened far more often once he was in New York. He chalked it up to the weirdness of the city itself. Like this: the man on the street who’d told him he smelled like death— which was more rude than strange, actually— or the time that he could have sworn some sort of winged demon had been following him as he walked to class.

Generally, he chalked his experiences up to a lack of sleep, because the life of a college student was quite the busy one. Even if it hadn’t been, he probably wouldn’t have slept anyways. All his life he’d been plagued by dreams so haunting and wild that he’d felt that they were real, regardless of the fact that he knew that couldn’t have been the case.

It was after a night tossing and turning in bed, visions of a pale skinned man on a throne of bones trying desperately to tell him something, that Lucas decided he needed to get some fresh air.

Lucas loved the city, he really did. Of all the places he’d lived in his life, New York was a close second to Paris. He didn’t let himself think of Paris too often, though, lest he be swept up in thoughts of his mother and how much he missed her. It was hard to keep in contact with all the moving, but he called the home that she was in every now and again to make sure she was alright. She never responded to the questions he’d written to her, but he’d more or less put all of that out of his mind.

It became clear to Lucas while he was walking through the city that someone was following him. Every time he looked back, he could have sworn he saw someone dart out of sight. So, he picked up his pace. If it came down to it, he’d throw some punches, sure, but he wasn’t the best fighter there ever was.

He kept walking, no direction in mind, and started to think that maybe he’d been overreacting, or maybe the sleep deprivation had gotten him at last. He walked so long that he made it somewhere there weren’t many people around, and even though he turned over his shoulder once more, whoever was following him seemed to have gotten bored and left him be. Finally, he thought, and paused to check his phone, blinking in surprise when he realized he’d been walking for nearly two hours. He had a tendency to get lost in his own head like that.

Lucas took a deep breath, started to turn around to walk back where he’d come from, and saw a light flash at the corner of his eye, something a bright and beautiful shade of bronze. Before he had time to react, he was pinned up against the side of an alleyway with a knife to his throat and a hand over his mouth.

By the time Lucas was able to assess the situation and look at his assailant’s face, he groaned internally to himself. Oh, fuck, he’s hot.

The assailant in question didn’t look to be all that much older than Lucas himself, his skin was pale and golden, dotted with moles like constellations. He was wearing a bright orange shirt, which Lucas didn’t know how he hadn’t seen before, and had a leather necklace with a bunch of clay beads on it, each with a different design. Six if, Lucas was counting properly.

The last thing Lucas looked at were his attacker’s eyes. A clear, bluish grayish color so intense, it made Lucas a little weak in the knees. Get a hold of yourself Lallemant, this guy is literally trying to kill you.

Lucas opened his mouth under the guy’s hold and in return the guy pressed his hand in even tighter. His luminescent eyes raked Lucas’ face up and down a moment until his attention was caught by something else, off to Lucas’ left.

“Stay here,” the boy said, loosening his grip on Lucas’ mouth, “And stay quiet, if you want to survive.”

Now, Lucas may not have been trained in combat, but he did know a few moves, one of which he employed the second it looked like this guy’s guard was down.

“OW! What the fuck?” the guy said in a strained voice as he fell to his knees. “Did you just knee me in the balls?”

Lucas didn’t spare the breath on answering, he just ran to the opposite end of the alley as fast as he could. He was almost away when he heard another voice join the fray. “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” said a girl’s voice, “I think you should go back to where Eliott told you to stay.”

Suddenly, Lucas felt his legs moving of their own accord. He agreed with this girl, he should listen to everything she said.

The boy— Eliott— lifted his head to glare at the girl. “Lola, stop that.”

In his haze, Lucas could barely hear her mumble something about never being allowed to have any fun before he suddenly felt like he’d been dunked in a bucket of ice cold water. He looked around, wondering how he’d gotten back to where he’d run from.

“What did you— wha—” he stammered, trying to regain sense of himself, when Eliott sighed and stood up, grimacing a bit.

“I’ll explain everything,” Eliott promised, “We’re here to help you, not hurt you, you just have to please, for the love of the gods, stay where you are and shut up.”

For the love of the gods? Were these people in some sort of cult?

Lucas was nothing if not stubborn. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and frowned. “What makes you think I’ll do what you say?”

Eliott threw an exasperated glance at Lola, who simply raised her eyebrows back as if to say, should have listened to me. Eliott sighed and came back to stand in front of Lucas, holding the knife he’d very recently pressed against Lucas' neck out to Lucas to grab. “Does this make you feel better?”

“I could stab you,” Lucas said, taking it.

Eliott flashed a quick grin, holding out a hand as Lola tossed him a bow and arrows. “You won’t.”

Lucas narrowed his eyes. “Oh yeah? And what makes you say th— AHHH!”

Lucas liked horror movies, he prided himself on being hard to scare. He’d laughed nearly the entire time he’d seen the most recent It movie, and he’d chalked up all the strange things that had happened in his life to fever dreams at best, tragically large amounts of bad luck at worst. Maybe he hadn’t been scared because he either knew it wasn’t real, or refused to believe it was real. This, though, this massive beast looking moments away from eating him alive, this was real.

“Gods dammit,” Lola murmured under her breath, pulling a sword from nowhere. Lucas glanced down at the knife in his hands. Eliott and Lola weren’t paying any attention to him anymore, he could make a run for it, but his fear was that this thing in front of him would kill him if he did.

“Excuse me? What the hell is that thing?” Lucas shouted, drawing the beast’s head in his direction. Fuck. Maybe drawing attention to himself by shouting wasn’t the best move.

Neither Lola nor Eliott answered him, assuming fighting stances. Lucas tried to emulate what they were doing, but his knees felt too weak and his head felt too dizzy. He hoped to whoever might listen that this was all just a very convoluted nightmare. He pressed the blade into his hand, just to see if it hurt, wishing that it wouldn’t. It did.

There was a moment of silence where Lucas could have heard a pin drop, but then the thing made a horrifying, guttural sort of sound, and lunged. Lola charged forward, swinging her sword with the precision of a seasoned professional, but the thing was fast. It evaded her attacks, reaching out to slash her with its long claws. Lucas didn’t think, just knew that even if he didn’t trust these people, they didn’t deserve to die. He threw the knife Eliott had given him with all his might, and let out a startled breath as it embedded itself right between the thing’s eyes.

Eliott, who’d had an arrow ready to fly, lowered his weapon and stared at Lucas with a dumbfounded expression as the thing crumbled to dust, leaving only the bronze knife in its wake.

“How did you do that?” Eliott asked, searching Lucas’ face up and down. From his other side, Lola was looking at Lucas apprehensively. Lucas opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Eliott’s expression went from shocked to worried, and that was the last thing Lucas saw before he passed out cold.

***

Lucas shot up in bed in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. Of course it was all a dream; sure it had felt realistic, but why would he be in bed if everything that had just happened in his mind happened in real life? Then again…

Lucas surveyed his surroundings and groaned, before flopping back onto what he now realized was not his bed. Great, he’d been kidnapped. By a boy with eyes like the center of a storm and a girl younger than he was.

“Lucas?”

He turned his head to the voice in the doorway, not knowing what to expect. To his displeasure, it was the kidnapper himself. Eliott, was it? He didn’t look like a kidnapper, in that same offensively bright orange t-shirt and distressed jeans, light streaks in his wild hair from too much time out in the sun. Camp Half-Blood, read his t-shirt, and upon realizing this, Lucas felt like he was going to be sick.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Eliott said as he raced to Lucas’ bed, shoving a glass of an indeterminate liquid into his hands. “Drink this, you’ll feel better.”

Lucas was definitely not going to drink it, obviously. Eliott noticed this, rolled his eyes, and took a small sip from the side of the cup. “There, will you drink it now?”

“Where did you take me, and how do you know who I am?” Lucas asked instead. He could only hope that Eliott was kind of stupid, so he’d be able to outsmart him and escape.

“I’m not telling you anything until you drink that,” Eliott said stubbornly, sitting on the edge of Lucas’ bed. The more Lucas looked at the room, the more it looked like some sort of infirmary, which made even less sense. Maybe Eliott had some weird doctor-patient kink or something.

Lucas looked at the drink in his hands, then back up at Eliott, who was smiling bright as the sun. He rolled his eyes and took a sip, figuring that if the drink was safe, he’d do what Eliott said to get more information and get the hell out of there. The moment the liquid hit his tongue, he flinched back in surprise. It tasted just like his favorite meal that his mother made him when he was little. How was that even possible? Forgetting all about Eliott, he gulped down most of the rest of the drink until he started feeling a bit hot and Eliott grabbed the glass from his hands.

“Woah there, don’t want you burning up on us, not when it’s taken so much work for us to get you here at all,” Eliott said with a smile, which Lucas decided is something a psychopath would do.

He did feel better though, now that the heat had subsided. A lot better actually, better than he’d felt in a long time. He felt healthy and well rested, which was especially great if he needed to take Eliott out in order to escape. First, though, he needed answers.

“Where am I?”

“Long Island,” Eliott supplied.

Lucas glowered at him. “Where exactly am I? Why did you kidnap me?”

Eliott coughed in surprise, eyebrows shooting up and then furrowing deeply. “Kidnap? Lucas, I didn’t kidnap you!”

“Why were you following me, then? How do you know my name?”

Eliott sighed and gazed at Lucas for a second that stretched to a minute. “I know your name because I saw it on your student ID. Your wallet was in your pocket. Don’t give me that look, I didn’t steal anything, you can have your two dollars and campus card back when you’re ready to head out into camp, not that you’ll be needing either of those things anytime soon.”

Aha, Lucas had caught him. “Because you kidnapped me.”

“No I did not—” Eliott broke off, shaking his head exasperatedly. “You’re difficult, you know that?”

Lucas shrugged. “So I’ve been told.”

“You won’t be here a long time because I’ve kidnapped you, you’ll be here a long time because it’s one of the only places in the world safe for people like you. Like us,” Eliott continued, looking like he was gauging each of Lucas’ reactions. “No offense, but I’m truly and honestly surprised that you’re not already dead. Unless you’re secretly ten years old or something.”

“And who, pray tell, are we?” Lucas asked sarcastically, ignoring the latter half of what Eliott had said. The look in Eliott’s eyes went deadly serious.

“Half-bloods.”

“I think that’s, like, a slur of some sort..”

The more jovial light came back into Eliott’s eyes. “I’m sorry, what?”

“My aunt and uncle told me never to say that, because people used to call me that sometimes when I was younger. My mom did too, but when she said it, it didn’t sound like a bad thing…” Lucas trailed off, not even realizing it, consumed in thoughts of his mother, as well as his aunt and uncle, who would think him dead. Or lost, just like their daughter. He only came back to himself when he heard Eliott swear under his breath. “Excuse me?”

Eliott went red. “Sorry, it’s just… we had a bet going, about who your parent was. If your mom is mortal, that means I lose.”

“Are you going to tell me what the hell you’re talking about, or am I going to have to kick you in the balls and make a run for it again?” Lucas asked dejectedly. Eliott laughed like he was joking.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologized, “You mean… you truly don’t know, then? What you are? Who you are?”

Lucas stared at him blankly, shrugging.

Eliott continued, “You’re a half-blood— which isn’t a slur, by the way— which means you’re half human, half something else, something that might not make much sense to you right now, or you might not want to believe, but I promise you that it’s true.”

“Ok.” What else was Lucas going to say? He was back to wondering if Eliott was a part of some weird cult.

“You’re half human, half god. Your father, whoever he is, is one of the gods of Ancient Greece. Or Rome, I suppose, but I have a feeling if you ended up here, you’re more on the Greek side of things,” Eliott concluded hesitantly, like he was waiting for Lucas to laugh in his face. Lucas sort of wanted to, but then again, if this was some weird cult thing, maybe it would be best to play along until he went under the radar and could escape.

So, instead of laughing or asking a million more questions like he wanted to, Lucas said, “Oh, is that all?”

Eliott blinked at him. “Is that a— you mean you believe me?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” Lucas asked. Yeah, this was definitely a cult thing. “Who’s my dad, then?”

“If you don’t know, we don’t know,” Eliott said apologetically. There was a look in his eyes that made Lucas doubt, for a moment, that this was all some big cosmic joke the universe was playing on him, that there might have been some truth to what Eliott was saying. But that was ridiculous, he couldn’t let them get to him.

Instead of dwelling on it, Lucas tried to divert the conversation, “Hence the bet.”

The corner of Eliott’s mouth quirked up and he averted his eyes, giving a shrug of acknowledgement. “Hence the bet,” he agreed.

The two of them stared at each other a beat longer, then Eliott hopped up and held out his hand. “Let’s give you a camp tour then, hm? Hopefully you’ll be claimed by tonight, but Cabin Eleven always welcomes unclaimed campers, even if we haven’t had one in a while.”

“Um, ok,” Lucas said, getting out of bed without taking Eliott’s hand. In all honesty, it was more for his own sake than anything. Cultist or not, Eliott was very, very attractive, and Lucas was very, very gay.

Eliott walked with a little bit of a bounce in his step, like he couldn’t help it, and even though it sort of made Lucas want to roll his eyes, another part of him was endeared. Eliott picked up a bow and quiver full of arrows by the door and strung them over his back. Lucas had no idea what use that would be, but he was wary to find out.

Outside of the infirmary was nothing like what Lucas expected. Eliott grinned at Lucas’ face over his shoulder and said, “Welcome to Camp Half-Blood.”

It was beautiful, that was the only word for it. There was a four story mansion in front of what looked to be some sort of dining pavilion, and on the opposite side there were massive strawberry fields, an archery range, and was that a rock climbing wall with lava pouring down it? It was hard to process everything he was seeing, and even harder when he looked a bit further and saw what Eliott must have meant by ‘cabins’. Cabin was an understatement, surely. There were many massive buildings, each decorated so wildly Lucas couldn’t even imagine the purpose of them. If this was a cult, at least the leaders seemed to treat the members well, everyone looked like they were having the time of their life, even the people sword fighting to the death.

Lucas looked back at the mansion on what seemed to be some sort of front lawn, and suddenly felt like he was about to faint again. “That man has a horse body.”

Eliott followed his gaze, laughed lightly. “Yeah, that’s Chiron, he’s a centaur.”

When Lucas didn’t respond, Eliott stopped him, imploring him with his intoxicating eyes. “Wait a second. You didn’t really believe me did you, you little shit?” he laughed, again, like it was funny. “Why would I lie about your father being a Greek god? Mine is too.”

“No,” Lucas said numbly. There had to be some other explanation, maybe he was on drugs. He started to feel a bit feverish and breathless as he took in his surroundings again. A man with the legs of a goat trotted past him and his vision dotted. Great, a panic attack was exactly what he needed right now. He didn’t even realize he’d fallen to his knees until Eliott knelt beside him, looking concerned.

“Hey, Lucas, breathe for me, can you do that?” Eliott asked. Lucas tried to answer, but he couldn’t, tried to breathe, but he couldn’t. Eliott’s face in front of him was a bit blurry now, and Lucas felt numb all over, like he was outside of his body. Then, suddenly, his vision cleared, his breathing regulated, and he felt like himself again.

“What—” he began, looking at Eliott, who looked guilty.

“I’m sorry,” Eliott said, helping Lucas to his feet. “My godly parent? Apollo, the god of music, prophecy, the sun,” he paused, biting his lip. “Medicine.”

“And you’re being one hundred percent serious?” Lucas asked. “You’re not part of a cult trying to brainwash me?”

Eliott nodded. “I swear it on the River Styx.”

Lucas didn’t know what that meant, but thunder boomed in the distance, so it sounded serious. His resolve crumbled, and he had no choice but to believe this crazy story he’d been told. In some ways, it made some of the weird things in his life seem not so weird after all.

“Ok,” he conceded, “I believe you. For real this time.”

Eliott smiled, but it was shallow, and Lucas thought about what he’d just said about his own father. “So you… you stopped my panic attack, then? With godly superpowers, or whatever?”

Eliott’s face went a bit dark, “I wouldn’t call it that, necessarily. I… I differ from most of my siblings in this way. Usually Apollo’s children are more inclined towards medicine, that much is true, but we don’t necessarily have healing powers of our own.”

“But you do,” Lucas inferred, and Eliott nodded grimly.

“It helps out a lot in battle, or with physical ailments, but I—” he faltered, and looked out at the water. “I hate using it this way, for mental ailments. Treating it like it's something that needs to be fixed— which I can’t do by the way. I can get rid of your panic attack, but not your anxiety, if that makes sense. The same way I could heal a broken leg, but not make sure that leg is never broken again. It seems like a cruel joke, sometimes, considering…” he trailed off, turning red, like he’d said something he shouldn’t have.

Lucas waited for him to continue, but when he did, he didn’t pick up his last train of thought. “Point is, we all have our things, from our parents, no matter how big or small they might be. Maybe finding out what yours is will lead us to find out who your dad is.”

“Maybe my dad’s also Apollo,” Lucas wondered aloud, and Eliott let out an oddly strangled noise.

“Let’s hope not,” he said, and before Lucas could ask why, he took off across the green towards the cabins. “Come on, let’s get you acquainted with some of the campers.”

And Lucas, well, he had no choice but to follow.

Every camper they passed seemed to be a little bit enamoured with Eliott, smiling, waving, and greeting him with blushes and laughter. Once Lucas caught up to Eliott, he asked, “Why are they doing that? Aren’t we all technically related, or whatever?”

Eliott furrowed his brows. “Doing what?” he asked, just as a camper on the volleyball court blew him a kiss. Lucas raised his eyebrows and watched as Eliott’s face turned bright red.

“Oh that’s not— we’re not— The godly side of the family doesn’t count,” he explained, “There’s no DNA there, so you’re not really related in any real way to anyone, aside from your siblings. Like, a child of Poseidon and a child of Athena could date with no problem, but two children of Athena? That’s weird.”

“Oh,” Lucas said, taking it all in. It seemed he had quite a bit to learn. “Who are you dating, then?” he asked, wishing he hadn’t the minute he said it.

To his surprise, Eliott just looked over at him with one eyebrow raised and a small smirk. “No one,” he said, coming to a stop in front of what looked like a Barbie house. “Yet.”

Lucas opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by a girl with blonde hair and big green eyes bounding down the stairs in their direction. Instead of running to Eliott, like he expected, she ran right towards Lucas, smiling at him widely.

“You must be Lucas!” she said excitedly.

“Uh…” Lucas said intelligently.

“This is Daphné,” Eliott said, “Daughter of Aphrodite.”

Aphrodite. Right. Which one was she again? The one naked in a seashell? Thankfully, Daphné filled in the blanks. “Goddess of love, beauty, all that good stuff. Someone had a lot of money betting that you were one of us,” she confided in him.

Lucas tried to look at Eliott for help in this interaction, but he was looking away pointedly. “My mom is normal,” he said instead, “Mortal.”

Daphné bit her lip, like she was holding back a grin. “That’s what my sister Lola guessed, too.”

Why did that name sound familiar? “Lola…?”

“Me.” Another voice joined them. It was the girl he’d seen with Eliott, who he’d saved from being eaten by that monster. She looked at him with a bored expression.

“You’re welcome,” Lucas said, watching as her eyes narrowed, “You know, for saving your life.”

She grimaced at him, hand on the sword at her side. She started to say something, but Daphné glared at her, and she rolled her eyes, going back inside where she’d come from.

“Your sister seems nice,” Lucas observed.

Daphné waved a hand airily. “She’ll come around. You didn’t have to be a dick, either.”

“Sorry,” he said, though he wasn’t, and Daphné looked like she knew it.

Eliott jumped in, likely to diffuse some tension, “Daphné here is a master of disguise. Her skill with beauty work can really transform anyone into anything, though more in an illusion way, not a shapeshifting way. Also, her love advice rarely goes amiss.”

That all sounded fine, but not really as cool as having actual superpowers, like Eliott, Lucas thought. As if sensing what he was thinking, Eliott continued, “Some children of Aphrodite have the power of charmspeak, too. They can make anyone do anything, just by telling them to.”

Lucas thought of the weird disconnected feeling that had come over him when Lola had made him stop running away. “Lola can charmspeak?” he asked, already knowing the answer as Eliott and Daphné nodded. “Well that’s just great.”

“It is,” Daphné said defensively, “It’s saved a lot of lives.”

“Anyway,” Eliott cut in again, smiled a bit tense around the edges, “I brought you to Daph because she knows everything and everyone. She can give you the rundown on some campers and their godly parents, if you want.”

Lucas didn’t see a problem with that, especially because he was severely lacking in mythological knowledge. Before he could do so much as nod, Daphné launched into a wild spiel, pointing to people as she did.

“Well, let’s see… over there is Alexia, daughter of Iris, goddess of the rainbow, ugh she’s with Arthur again— son of Hermes, you’ll meet him soon enough if you remain unclaimed— I told her not to go down that road again, but she never learns that my love advice is to be listened to, not ignored. There’s Yann, son of Hephaestus, god of blacksmiths and fire, he’s chill, you’ll like him, and he’s with Basile, as per usual, son of Ares, god of war— which everyone is still confused by, Baz doesn’t have a warlike bone in his body— we used to date, actually, a while back, but I suppose you don’t care about that. Emma and Imane, daughters of Dionysus, god of wine, and Nike, goddess of victory, respectively. Hmm… who else… Sofiane, Imane’s boyfriend and Eliott’s brother, another son of Apollo, Idriss, another son of Nike— he and Imane actually have the same father as well, which is rare but not unheard of. Oh! There’s Maya, Lola’s girlfriend, daughter of Demeter, goddess of agriculture…”

“You seem very well informed of people’s love lives,” Lucas observed, though he supposed that made sense, with who her mom was.

Daphné glowed in response. “I mean, it’s my job as the head counselor for the Aphrodite cabin. I have a feeling love is closer than you think, by the way, for yourself.”

Lucas blinked. “Excuse me?”

Daphné shrugged, sparing a glance at Eliott, then back at Lucas. “Just a hunch. Speaking of love, I wonder where Manon is… I think she’d like you. She’s a daughter of Zeus. Maybe she’s in her cabin…”

Manon. A name Lucas hadn’t heard in years. It could be a coincidence, of course, but at the same time… “Manon Demissy?” he asked. Daphné frowned at him.

“How do you know that?”

Lucas couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “She’s my cousin. She went missing when we were twelve…” he trailed off. Had she been here the whole time? Why didn’t his aunt and uncle know that? Did they have the same godly parent?

Daphné and Eliott exchanged a glance, before Daphné took a hold of his arm and dragged him after her, Eliott stumbling along behind them trying to keep up, towards the towering cabin at the end of the path, which looked more like a mausoleum than a cabin.

“Manon!” Daphné yelled once they were outside the door. “You’d better be in there, and you’d better open up, because your cousin—”

She was cut off by the door opening, and Lucas stared into a face he only had the barest memories of. She was a lot older now, sure, but still, Lucas knew exactly who she was. Her face blanched considerably when she saw Lucas.

“Lulu?” she asked, stepping all the way outside.

Lucas shifted uncomfortably at the nickname. “Uh, no one really calls me that anymo—”

Manon pulled him into a tight hug, and Lucas melted into it. His missing cousin, apparently, was just like him. When she pulled back she searched his face. “But how are you— Are you a half-blood?”

Lucas shrugged. “I guess so.”

“Who’s your father, then?” she asked, looking to Daphné and Eliott both.

“We don’t know,” Eliott said, “He’s unclaimed.”

“At eighteen?” Manon seemed confused by his age more than anything, even though they were only about a month apart in age.

Eliott and Daphné seemed to be thinking the same thing. “How did you survive this long? Most demigods don’t make it on their own past twelve out there, and the gods are supposed to claim us all by the time we’re thirteen,” Eliott said.

“He could be the son of a minor god,” Daphné offered, “Alexia was out there until she was fifteen.”

They were all looking at him expectantly, so Lucas launched into the story of his childhood, to when he’d been sent to live with Manon’s parents, how they’d moved around any time anything strange happened, and how everything had only been able to catch up with him now that he was on his own in New York.

Manon shook her head. “It still doesn’t make sense, though.”

“Your parents think you’re dead, by the way,” he said, wondering why that wasn’t bothering her.

She looked apprehensive for a moment, then said, “Lu, my mother and her husband died when I was twelve. That’s why I came to camp. I don’t have any family out there, other than you.”

“What are you talking about? Who the hell have I been living with for years, then?” Lucas demanded, but Manon looked confused as ever.

“We need to talk to Jo,” Eliott said, and Daphné nodded. “Her mother is Hecate, the goddess of magic, if anyone can peel back the Mist on this one, it’s her.”

“Why do I have a feeling you’re not talking about actual mist?” Lucas asked as he followed the three of them across the green once again. None of them answered him, which was answer enough.

“Jo!” Eliott yelled as they came across a purple cabin with a strange energy surrounding it. “We need your expertise!”

Hardly a moment later, a girl that seemed to be a bit younger than Lucas was at the door, breathless and smiling widely. She looked at Eliott with what was either severe infatuation or admiration. “Anything for my favorite camper,” she said, looking at all of them in turn, until her eyes rested on Lucas. “You must be the newbie! You’re a lot older than I thought you’d be, how the hell did you make it out there that long?”

“That’s what we need your help with,” Manon said, explaining the rest of the situation. Jo’s expression hardened as she did so, and she nodded seriously at the end.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Then, her expression was bright again. “Come inside Lucas! I don’t bite, I promise! Unless you want me to.”

“Jo,” Eliott said, exasperatedly, like he’d had to do this a lot.

She put her hands up. “Alright, alright. Come on, let’s see if we can figure out your story.”

Lucas tried to protest as she pulled him inside, door shutting behind her, leaving Eliott, Manon, and Daphné on the outside. She looked at him sympathetically. “I know it's overwhelming, but I promise you don’t have to be scared. Your job is easy, you just have to sit there while I work my magic. Literally.”

He was led to an entirely dark room and shoved unceremoniously into a chair. Jo waved her hand and a bunch of purple orbs filled the room, glowing with light. “Just close your eyes, and think about your family— your mortal family. I’ll do the rest.”

Lucas did as he was told, first thinking about his mother, and Manon, meeting his extended family when he was young. Only… that was odd, his aunt, Manon’s mother, looked quite a bit different than she did now, though maybe that was just because she was younger. There were weird, fuzzy gaps in his brain, from when he’d had to leave Paris and come to live with his aunt and uncle, which seemed strange. There were a lot of weird, fuzzy gaps, actually, the more he thought about it. Jo gasped, and Lucas opened his eyes.

Jo sighed, looking at Lucas like she’d seen something she wished she hadn’t. “It really is a curse, being able to do the things that I do,” she said simply, holding out a hand. “Come on, we have lots to share.”

Eliott, Daphné, and Manon were all bickering when Jo opened the door to let them both out of the cabin. They looked up at Jo expectantly. Well, actually, Manon and Daphné did, Eliott looked at Lucas, searching his face with his eyes, almost like he was asking if Lucas was ok. Lucas nodded, giving him a hint of a smile, which Eliott returned with one of his own.

“I’m not sure y’all will like what I have to say,” Jo warned them all, then turned to Manon. “Can we go to your cabin? I don’t want to talk about it with a bunch of people around.”

Manon frowned, but they all followed her back to the massive cabin at the end of the row once again. While they walked, Lucas couldn’t stop thinking of what all this secrecy and worry might lead to. Bad enough he’d just found out that the people he’d been living with weren’t actually related to him, did he really need to learn that he was the son of the god of, like, toilets, or something?

When they walked in Lucas noticed that the cabin was more or less set up like a museum, not a livable space. There was a massive statue of a god that Lucas assumed was Zeus, because he was carrying a lightning bolt (hey, he didn’t know much, but he knew that much), but it was a bit unnerving, because it felt like his eyes were following them as they walked across the room.

“Where are your siblings?” Lucas asked, looking around. All of the other cabins seemed to have a great number of campers living in them.

“I don’t have any,” Manon said, opening a compartment in the wall just outside statue Zeus’ eyeline. Daphné followed like she’d been there a million times, and Eliott and Jo didn’t seem to have any hesitation, so Lucas went after them, closing the compartment behind him.

“Zeus is one of the Big Three, which includes Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades,” Manon continued as they followed her, “And a long time ago, there was this big pact between the Big Three to never sire any more demigods, because of some prophecy nonsense, or something. I don’t know, it was before our time. There was this big war, and then they decided to do away with that rule, but the children of the Big Three are more powerful than most demigods. Which makes them more dangerous, more of a liability. There were a lot of us, for a time, but then the gods decided to get rid of us in case we’d cause too much trouble. As if it was our fault for existing. Each of the Big Three was supposed to choose one child to live, and I happened to be the luckiest of the bunch, because I was just a baby. I think I technically have a sister, but she’s a Hunter of Artemis, so she was exempt from this new rule. Poseidon chose this guy who’s an adult now, living in New Rome, because he pretty much saved them from destruction a number of times and he also hadn’t had anymore demigod children after him. Hades refused to choose, and the gods banished him to Tartarus. He only had two kids, both of whom pretty much saved the gods asses a million times over, and he didn’t think they deserved to be punished for existing, rightfully so.”

They were now in a chamber that Lucas definitely thought hadn’t existed previously. It was decorated in a way that seemed somewhat recent and it looked like more of a secret hideout than a bedroom. Everyone took a seat on various furniture, Daphné and Manon’s hands tangling together as they sat beside one another on the bed. Lucas was still trying his best to take in all the information, but he got lost at Tartarus. “So… Zeus killed a bunch of his kids, is the moral of the story?”

Daphné scoffed. “It was Hera who did it. She hates all children of Zeus, because she’s the goddess of marriage. Really, she just wanted to punish him, and all those innocent kids got caught in the crossfire. She only roped Poseidon and Hades into it so the other gods would agree. Everyone knew Poseidon only had one demigod child, and no one cared enough about Hades or his kids to intervene in that regard.”

“But if they all hate Hades, why is he one of the Big Three?” Lucas asked.

“I mean, the whole concept of the Big Three is inherently sexist to begin with, because it only recognizes the male children of Kronos,” Manon said. “But that’s basically why. He’s also much more powerful than anyone gives him credit for, he could wipe us all out if he wanted to. I think Zeus knows that, which is part of why he had him banished.”

“So what’s Tartarus, then?” Lucas asked, catching on, but still hopelessly lost.

It was Eliott who chimed in this time, voice cold and somewhat afraid. “There’s the Underworld, and then there’s Tartarus, which is like the hell of all hells. Worse than the Fields of Punishment tenfold. It’s the home of all the monsters, where they go to regenerate when we kill them, and is a prison or a home for the nastiest immortal beings in the universe. The only thing deeper than Tartarus is Chaos, from which everything was borne. The good, the bad, all of it. Only three demigods have ever been inside Tartarus, and they all barely survived it. Hades is being punished there, because he refused to kill one of his children.”

Lucas looked at each of them with wide eyes. “But that’s awful!”

Manon nodded grimly. “Hades isn’t the nicest of the gods, not by a longshot, but he’s a million times better than my own father, and he definitely doesn’t deserve what’s happening to him right now.”

“Zeus isn’t my dad, is he?” Lucas asked warily.

Manon smiled sadly. “You’d be dead if he was. Hera killed my mother and my stepfather, you know, as retribution for the fact that I’m alive, even though she agreed to letting one of his children live. Don’t worry about this all too much, though, you’re probably just a child of a minor god and you’ll get some sick powers out of the deal.”

Jo sat up in her beanbag chair. “Actually… that’s what we have to talk about.”

Oh, right. Lucas had almost forgotten about her magic, and what they were trying to find out about his past. Daphné encouraged her, “Well? Spill.”

Jo sighed. “So, I was able to see through the Mist on his memories, and I’m not sure you’ll like what I found. His aunt and uncle, the ones who’ve been hiding him all these years, they’re two of the Kindly Ones.”

“Kindly Ones?” Lucas asked, but he saw everyone else’s faces had paled.

“I’d wondered why they never came after us anymore… I thought it was because of Hades…” Manon mumbled to herself, but Lucas still didn’t follow.

“The Kindly Ones, better known as the Furies, are monsters that serve Hades. They come after us, sometimes, but they mostly stick by his side and do his bidding,” Eliott explained. “If they’ve been protecting you all these years…”

“You must be a child of Hades,” Manon said, finishing both Eliott’s thought and her own.

Lucas laughed loudly, sure they were just joking around with him. Hades? No way, he was just some minor demigod, not someone who should, for all intents and purposes, be dead. These people were all crazy after all, he’d been right all along. He forced another laugh and shook his head. “Come on, guys, you can’t be serious.”

But they weren’t looking at him, they were looking just above him.

“Unfortunately, it seems that we are,” Daphné said gravely, and Lucas looked above his head just in time to see a glowing symbol disappearing.

“What was that?” he asked.

“You’ve just been claimed,” Eliott said, “By the god of the dead. Lucas, you are a son of Hades.”

And wasn’t that just fan-fucking-tastic.

Not only was he half god, he was half of a god who should have had him killed when he was a baby. He supposed that was a point in his father’s favor that he wasn’t dead, but couldn’t he have done more to keep him hidden from this world? He was a god, that should have been in his power.

“The good news for you is that you have four eyewitnesses,” Manon said, and Lucas could nearly see the wheels spinning in her head. He didn’t know how that helped anything, now there were just four other people who knew a secret that could get him killed the moment he stepped back outside into camp.

Daphné, though, seemed to understand what Manon was saying. “Four eyewitnesses who saw you claimed by any god other than Hades,” she said, and Lucas understood.

“I can’t ask you guys to do that for me,” he argued, “What if something happens to you as a result?” He didn’t even know any of them, really, he couldn’t ask them to risk themselves like this.

“If it’s a choice between seeing you live or seeing you die, I’m going to go with the former, no matter who you are,” Jo said simply, and the other three nodded beside her. Lucas appreciated this level of blind faith in him, even if he didn’t know if he deserved it. Obviously, he didn’t want to die, and it meant a lot that these four people he barely knew cared enough to make sure he didn’t. They could very well do the same with every other demigod, but every other demigod wasn’t there right now, so Lucas let himself feel this unearned love, just a little bit.

A thought struck him, then, that may put a crimp in their plan. “But how will I pretend to be the child of another god?”

Jo winked at him. “Leave that to me. My siblings are great and all, but if you really want magic done right, you come to me. I can make it look like one of the other gods has claimed you.”

“But which one?” Manon inquired, tilting her head to one side like she was working through every god in her mind. “It has to be one of the male gods, because his mother is mortal and that’s easy to prove, but it can’t be one of the ones that has obvious, testable, powers.”

“He could be Apollo,” Daphné suggested, “Apollo has a lot of different skills, so Lucas must fit into one of them.”

“No,” Eliott interjected, voice sounding a bit hoarse, like he hadn’t meant to say anything. Everyone’s heads shot in his direction and he blushed, pretending that the floor was very interesting all of a sudden. He mumbled, “Children of Apollo have certain traits that are too easy to prove Lucas doesn’t have.”

Lucas didn’t know whether to take offense to that, and he was a little bit hurt that Eliott didn’t think him worthy enough to be a son of the sun god, but he supposed that’s what he got when he was a child of a death god.

Manon snapped, taking everyone’s attention off of Eliott, for which he seemed grateful. “What about Hypnos, god of sleep? I’m fairly good friends with Lisa, their head counselor, and the only real requirement for that one is the ability to sleep.”

“I, uh, have insomnia,” Lucas admitted. Of course, he couldn’t even fit in with the sleeping god. Eliott snorted into his hand, and tried to cover it up with a cough, which weirdly made Lucas feel better.

“Ares?” Manon offered.

Lucas squinted. “The war guy?”

“What about Dionysus?” Jo chimed in, only to be cut off by Daphné.

“Mr. D literally works at this camp, Jo, absent as he is at the moment. I think he’d know who his children are.”

“Right…”

“What about Hermes?” Eliott suggested. He looked a bit uncomfortable with everyone’s attention on him again, but he continued, “I mean, he’s sort of a jack of all trades, so his kids don’t usually have any particularly defining characteristics, aside from the occasional theft.”

“I’ve stolen things,” Lucas supplied, in a way that he hoped was helpful.

Eliott smiled widely, gesturing to him. “He’s stolen things!”

“That just might work,” Daphné said with a nod, starting to smile. “And Arthur would have our back on this, should the truth come out in any way. I mean, I think we should keep it between the five of us, but we know Arthur’s trustworthy, is all. Plus, no one would question it, Hermes has lots of kids.”

“It would also make sense as to why you’ve gone this long without coming to camp. Hermes is powerful enough that some of his kids have issues in the real world, but a lot of them can make it without any problems,” Manon added.

“Well?” Eliott asked him, smile still just as bright as a second ago. “What do you say, Lucas, son of Hermes?”

Lucas nodded slowly. “I think I could do that. And you guys are sure that— that you can help me with this?” He didn’t want to ask for too much, but if they were willing, it would be nice to not be alone.

Each of them nodded in turn. “We’re a team now,” Manon promised, daring the others to disagree. They didn’t, which was a relief.

When Lucas thought about all the ways he’d thought his life would have gone, and this was so far out of anything he’d ever considered that he was still having a hard time processing it all, but it really struck him, in that moment, that it was all real, that this was his life now.

He looked at Eliott, who looked back at him with curiosity in his eyes, and it felt like a wave of understanding passed between the two of them. Lucas didn’t entirely know what that understanding was, but it comforted him. Maybe, just maybe, this would turn out all right.

#skam france #elu #elu fic #pjo au

83 notes · View notes

petra-deserved-better · 4 years ago

Note

Various canon fanfic of Petra and the squad alive particularly during the Uprising arc ( yes it’s my favorite ) by the way great work love you fanfics

Levi Squad Lived Uprising AU - Part One

Word count: 1752 words

——————————————————————————————————

“I’m sick of baby sitting these children!” Oruo cried, looking on in indignation as Eren and Jean squabbled about who had made the others bed.

“We aren’t supposed to be baby sitting them they’re on our squad now.” Gunther replied, but even as he spoke he could see Petra fussing over the two boys who had just been arguing and Eld helping a girl sneak an extra roll of bread. Gunther shook his head smiling. “You weren’t sick of it when they were all fawning over your kill count yesterday and asking for tips.”

“I can’t help it if I’m an inspiration.” Oruo said dismissively. But Gunther knew he had loved the attention and Petra had teased him about it later that evening.

A squabble had broken out among the new recruits and Petra had thrown herself into the fray smoothing the ruffled feathers and smiling at each of their new squad mates in turn.

“Pfft, what is it with her and these brats anyway. First Eren and now this lot, if she’d wanted to be a mother she should have stayed at home.” Oruo crosses his arms over his chest as he watched Petra and Eld expertly divide the chores between the newly pacified recruits.

Gunther raised an eyebrow at his friend. “Who was she supposed to have kids with you?” He teased.

The colour rose in Oruo’s cheeks. “Yeah she wishes. Come on let’s go help I don’t want to spend the rest of my afternoon doing press-ups because some snot nose brats couldn’t clean this cabin up properly.”

Laughing Gunther joined his squad mates, and together they had the place spotless by the time the Captain returned.

For the first few hours they had been at this hide out Gunther had really convinced himself that this latest mission was going to be a piece if cake. How hard could it be to protect these two kids when you were used to going outside the walls and fighting giant monsters. Truthfully, he had almost been looking at the next few weeks as the closest he would ever get to a proper holiday. Sure, he still needed to do patrols and clean and cook, but honestly he had felt a little bubble of joy well in his chest the way it used to when school closed for summer when he was a kid. When was the last time he’d been able to look so far in the future without seeing imminent danger.

He hadn’t really been listening whilst the boy Armin he been talking about his plans to retake wall Maria it all seemed like a dream to him. His attention had been brought back to the table when his Captain said Hange looked like she was holding in a shit. Gunther smirked, he’d always appreciated the Captains toilet humour more than others.

“Minister Nick was found dead this morning, in the Trost barracks.”

The bubble of joy burst, he wasn’t smirking anymore.

“I know he was murdered, they’d pulled off his fingernails.”

The Captains face was an unreadable mask, Gunther looked to Eld instead, he saw the way his eyebrows where drawn in and his fists were cleansed. He knew this wasn’t good.

“It’s my fault he died.” Hange continued in a downcast voice, the lack of all usual enthusiasm was unnerving. “I hid him in the Trost barracks to protect him from the church. I never thought that it would be the interior police that killed him, I was naïve.”

The room was silent, he looked from his squad to the new recruits. All the happy laughter and playful banter of the morning was gone, each wore looks of shock, disgust or fear as they digested what the squad leader had said.

The silence was interrupted by the sound of their Captain slurping his tea. Even in the midst of such a startling revelation it amused Gunther to see the way the new recruits jumped and looked disbelievingly at their captain. They had a lot to learn!

That evening he was on patrol with Eld, the night around them was cool and silent apart from the crunching of their boots as they made their way around the perimeter of their property, a precaution Captain Levi now felt was necessary.

“Do you really think we may have enemy’s in the interior police now?” Gunther asked in a low voice as they made their second sweep of the area. He felt reasonably confident there was no one around now but he wasn’t going to raise his voice unnecessarily after all that has been discussed today.

“If the Captain says you talk after one nail, then you talk after one nail. He knows more about it than the rest of us. Plus when you think about it, it just makes sense.” Eld shifted the rifle he held from one shoulder to another whilst he spoke.

Gunther felt reassured, he’d known Eld since they were in trainee corps and from the moment they’d meet he’d looked up to him, he couldn’t put his finger quite on what it was, he’d just always found him a reassuring presence, he’d been eternally grateful when they were put on the same squad.

“You think Hange’s idea will work, that we should go after our enemies as well as carry on our experiments with Eren?”

Eld scratched his chin and contemplated the question. “Seems the only sensible option to me.” He responded. “The interior police might not yet know that the Survey Corps has its eye on the Riess family but the fact that Historia is in our ranks might be enough reason to go after us, it makes sense to cover our backs.”

Gunther signed. “I thought we were in for an easy few weeks. Now I feel like there are enemies round every corner.”

Eld threw his arm round Gunther’s shoulders and laughed. “It could be worse?”

“Yeah how?”

“We could still be outside the wall fighting titans. Come on, what’s a few interior police to them. You’ll see will have this all sorted in no time.”

Gunther smiled. “Yeah, your right.”

“As always.” Eld grinned.

Gunther felt better. He always did after he spoke to Eld.

X~~~X

The wind blew tendrils of Petra’s hair about her face as she watched the emaciated form of Eren’s Titan below them ripping apart the the house he had built himself. Her chest felt hollow, not long ago she’d watch him follow Hange’s instruction and built the structure. She’d felt hope like she hadn’t dared to let herself feel before. That hope rushed out of her in a breath as Eren’s Titan fell forward and revealed most of Eren’s torso and legs hanging out of his nape.

“He’s not even ten meters this time and I can see his scrawny arse hanging out.” Levi remarked.

Petra let out a gasp of shocked laughter. Beside her Hange was yelling instructions at Eren screaming at him to move.

“I don’t think he’ll be moving again today.” Petra muttered under her breath.

Levi glanced in her direction and then nodded to Hange who began to make her way to cut Eren out of his Titan form, she was beaten to the task by Mikasa. There was a commotion below as they had some trouble getting Eren out of his Titan form.

“Do you think he’ll be ok?” Petra asked peering over the edge of the cliff.

“He’ll be fine.”

The Captain began arranging their retreat from the area. It was important to make it look like they had never been there. It wasn’t until they were on their way home that she was able to speak to him again.

They were riding their horses a little behind everyone else, they didn’t want to be obvious by riding a long in a large procession. Petra cherished little moments like these. It had been a long time since she’d realised she was in love with her Captain. She knew that nothing could ever happen between them but that didn’t stop her foolish heart from enjoying any little moment she could spend by his side. But things had been so busy over the last month such moments had been few and far between.

“What’s on your mind Ral?”

Petra had been so caught up in her thoughts she hadn’t noticed that the Captain had been watching her so closely. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks.

“Do you think we are safe here Sir, from the military police I mean.” It seemed like a safe enough topic, far safer than admitting she’d been thinking about how much she’d missed having tea with him in their old barracks.

“No.” The Captain was nothing but honest.

“Then shouldn’t we get Eren and Historia to somewhere safer?” She asked.

“For the time being, we need to assume no where is safe.”

Petra looked down, studying her hands as they held onto the reins of her horse. “Things were much simpler when the enemy only wanted to eat us.”

Captain Levi let out a huff of laughter and Petra felt her heart swell. She always felt proud of herself when she made him laugh, she knew not many people ever got to hear it.

“That’s true.”

They rode on in comfortable silence for such a length of time that when he spoke again it made her jump.

“Can I trust you with something I can’t tell the others yet.”

“Of corse.” Her answer was a knee jerk reaction. She spoke without thinking, he could trust her with anything. She knew she would never have his love but his trust was something she would always treasure.

“I think that we might be fighting humans soon.”

“Humans, really Captain?” Her voice came out in a panicked squeak.

“It’s just a hunch, but there’s something about this whole situation, that’s familiar. Like I’ve see it before.”

Petra felt bile rise in her throat and tried to swallow it down. She looked at her captain, he’s brows pulled down into a deep frown, she knew she’d follow this man to hell if she had to.

“Well, whatever happens Captain, I’m with you.”

He looked round at her, he’s grey eyes studied her own with a steely intensity that made heart squeeze in her chest.

“Thank you.” He said quietly.

They couldn’t talk anymore. They rounded the corner that revealed the cabin they were staying in. A familiar figure dismounting a horse took Petra by surprise.

“That’s strange, what’s Nifa doing here?”

———————

A/N - I hope this was ok and what you had in mind. I decided to break this up into a series as I couldn’t decide what parts of the uprising to do so mostly decided it would be fun to do most of it. Will be happy to continue if you’ve enjoyed it!

#rivetra #og levi squad #new levi squad #cannon au #everybody lives au #fanfiction #my writing #prompt #fic request

63 notes · View notes