#for the next half year he battles the scarf over a series of matches just acting out the most traumatic storyline in wrestling history

[comediakaidanovsky]

okay so we all know the “the belt corrupts” theories but have y’all considered that maybe it’s the scarf? mjf isn’t like that, he’s just been exposed to the scarf’s influence for so long that it’s poisoned his mind completely. punk stole the scarf and kept it for like a week, and then his entire life spiraled out of control. even now he hears it whisper to him at night and freaks out and posts shit on insta stories. if mjf wants to break the curse he needs to realize that the scarf doesn’t love him and destroy it. scarf versus career match. all in london main event. total bloodbath

[mysterioushogwartsrequests]

Ceremony (Smugglers, Part 5)

Hello everyone! I am so excited to finally be posting Part 5 of The Smugglers Series! I am so sorry to keep everyone waiting for so long, but I really had a creative stump when it came to continuing this, but I finally figured out the structure. This will be the fifth installment of this seven-part series, the next parts will center around their honeymoon and the Battle of Hogwarts. 

This piece is extremely long and I tried to shorten it, but after all the waiting the fans of the series have done, I couldn’t bear to leave anything out. I started writing Smugglers on a whim about two years ago after reading a Tumblr post and I cannot believe how much this story and this blog have grown. I owe you guys everything and I cannot wait to keep putting out work. I apologize for the long wait, but I went through a painful writer’s block regarding this story and I am happy to be releasing it.

Smugglers Series: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

Taglist: @a-sweet-little-fangirl | @homowillraise | @fanfable

Just in case anyone was interested (and for my own visualizations sake) I compiled a picture of the wedding, maid-of-honor, and bridesmaids’ dresses, along with pictures of the various bouquets written in the story. If you guys would like to see them, please let me know! 

Anyways, enjoy the long-awaited continuation of “Smugglers: A Charlie Weasley Fanfiction”

Romania. November 30th, 1994.

The Romanian Dragon Sanctuary was home to an array of dangerous species. The dragons held there ranged from both manageable and potentially deadly. But amidst the potential dangers, foul-smelling cages, and bitter weather, a certain couple spent their final month before they finally moved back to their shared home in Scotland. 

Charlie Weasley, renowned Dragonologist, and fidgety husband to be proposed to master Gringotts Curse-Breaker (Y/N) (L/N) during the 1994 Quidditch World Cup surrounded by their family and friends. Encouraged by the outbreak after the cup and the realization that war could break out at any moment, the two worked quickly to organize and finalize their wedding. 

But before going forth with their wedding, Charlie and (Y/N) were finishing up their tasks at the Sanctuary. The workers had safely transported the four dragons utilized in the first task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament back to Romania and they all settled comfortably into their respective nests. Luckily for (Y/N), her last mission reeled in far more gold than the Goblins had expected, and granted her some time off, which she gladly took to spend some time with her fiancé. She was truly enjoying her time at the Sanctuary, although she never encountered dragons while on her trips, she hoped that the information she learned from Charlie and his colleagues would prove useful in the long run. Charlie, on the other hand, spent his early mornings caring for the newly hatched Peruvian Vipertooths and his afternoons patrolling the grounds ensuring the dragons were safely secured for the night. Ever since his departure from Hogwarts, Charlie had spent most of his time studying the various dragon species held at the Sanctuary. During his stint there, however, he had never witnessed the ferocity of baby Vipertooths. 

The nonnative Vipertooths were having a difficult time adjusting to the brutal cold of the Romanian countryside and Charlie worked day and night to ensure they survived. Although quite small, the dragons posed a large threat to whoever handled them due to their poisonous bites and their intense, unsatisfiable craving for human flesh which Charlie – charmed by their adorability – almost fell victim to them the first couple of days they were in his care. 

The Sanctuary workers were in full swing, carefully preparing for the upcoming blizzard. Steady tents erupted near the dragon nests and each worker was tasked with creating protective barriers around them to protect any of the eggs and their mothers.

Back on Ridgebit Rock, (Y/N) trudged through the snow with a clipboard in hand and studying the contents of the wooden crates lined up along the center. Charlie pulled the collar of his jumper higher, hiding the lower half of his face in the turtleneck as he called out numbers to his fiancée. (Y/N) had grown accustomed to the hectic environment and considered the sanctuary a second home so she couldn’t help feeling nostalgic as they finished up the final task. 

She looked around the surrounding forest, closing her eyes and breathing in the crisp cold air, shivering as a gust of wind blew past them. “I’m going to miss this,” she spoke up, clutching the board close to her chest, “You’ve spent so much time here, it feels bittersweet to leave it behind…” She understood that to grow, one must move on, but it was unusual to have their time at the sanctuary come to an end. 

“Me too,” replied Charlie, gazing towards the heated tent that held the small Vipertooths, “I wonder if the Dragons will remember us when we’re gone...” (Y/N) giggled, cut off by a sneeze as another gust of wind blew through the forest. Charlie glanced over at his fiancée, his heart swelling at the tinge of red that spread across her nose and cheeks. “You’re cold, aren’t you?” He asked while (Y/N) blew hot air into her gloves, attempting to cover her reddening nose.

Charlie smiled sweetly, removing his scarf, and wrapping it around her to shield her from the cold breeze. He gazed at her face with admiration, running his thumb across her cold cheek as she leaned into his gloved hand. 

“A little,” She admitted, setting down her clipboard and quill and slipping her hand into Charlie’s with ease, “But, I hope they remember us,” responding to his earlier statement while gazing over the hill where some of the dragons were kept, “They’ll be taken care of here and we can always come to visit.” (Y/N) grinned, squeezing her fiancé’s hand, “I’m sure they’d love to have their best Dragonologist back, not to mention their most handsome one.” 

Charlie hummed in satisfaction, “You’re absolutely right,” He replied, pulling her in for a tight hug and pressing a kiss against her cheek, “We’ve done a lot here and I never properly thanked you for staying by my side” He muttered, his fingers playing with her hair as they embraced. 

“And why wouldn’t I, Mr. Weasley?” (Y/N) teased, “After all, we said ‘til the end of the line our fourth year, remember?” 

All the adventures, family outings, dangerous vault discoveries, and, of course, all the travels that helped them grow as a couple. The two had spent years together, watching each other go through the awkward stages of adolescence and all the hardships that came along with it. From the moment they met, they had each other’s back and although that fact did not need to be confirmed by a ceremony, they knew it was the next big step in their relationship. 

“And soon we’ll be saying, til death do us part” Charlie added sweetly, pulling her scarf down and quickly stealing a kiss from her.  (Y/N) smiled against Charlie’s kiss, placing her gloved hands on his cheeks, and pulling him in before pulling herself away from his grip, “But we need to finish taking inventory” she joked, picking up her clipboard from the crate and tapping her quill against it. 

“Always so determined,” he replied, rolling his eyes as he attempted to pull her back into his grip and laughing as she ran down the snow, “Let's finish up so we can head home” Charlie smiled, catching up to her and pulling her along the Sanctuary. 

Scotland. November 30th, 1994. 

The warmth of their home quickly enveloped them as they stepped out of the fireplace, the green flames dying down at their feet. Although it was still rather chilly outside, it was nothing compared to the weather in Romania. 

The two walked around the ground floor of their home, hanging up their coats and scarves in the entrance closet. Their usually tidy home had papers scattered over the countertop, along with different types of flowers, silverware, envelopes filled with wedding invitations, and other materials necessary for their preparations. 

(Y/N) sighed at the mess they left behind. Planning a wedding proved to be more difficult than breaking curses at Hogwarts, and she always worried she would miss something essential while they prepared. 

She rounded the kitchen counter, sorting the letters the owls had deposited at their house while they were away. Their wedding date was approaching fast, and the thought of their big day eased her worries but amplified them simultaneously. 

(Y/N) tore open one of the letters, her eyes scanning over the neat cursive with a subtle smile on her face. 

Dear Cursebreaker, 

(Y/N) Selwyn, I wanted to reaffirm how honored I am to hold the position as stylist for this special occasion. I’m sure you’ll recall our previous correspondence where I told you not to stress about any of the fashion choices for your wedding. But knowing you, you’ve spent hours tearing through magazines trying to find the perfect wedding dress and bridesmaids’ dresses.

But I am a man of my word and I intend to provide one of my best friends an eye-catching gown with bridesmaids’ dresses to match. I have enclosed the finalized – and colorized – sketches of your wedding gown and the dresses the girls will be wearing. I’ve included three options for your dress and two for the bridesmaids’ dresses. You’ve never mentioned a maid of honor, but I designed a variant just in case you picked one without informing me. 

Write to me as soon as possible so I can finalize the preparations. If all goes accordingly, your dress should be finalized before Christmas. 

I hope you’re intending on wearing a tiara, I think it would tie everything together and I included them in the drawings so you could visualize it. In all honesty, I truly think this is my best work as your style-Wizard and I expect some well-deserved credit at your reception. 

All jokes aside, take a look at the dresses and send me your response, along with the measurements of your selected maid of honor and bridesmaids. Also, tell Charlie to write back as soon as possible. I sent him his dress robes options ages ago and he hasn’t sent a letter back, I should honestly charge him for it. 

That was another joke, I’m not taking any form of payment from either of you. That’s final so don’t even try to debate me on that. 

I can’t believe you two are finally getting married. You don’t know how long everyone has been thinking about this day, I can’t wait to see everyone. 

I hope you and Charlie are well.

Best Regards, 

Your friend and best style wizard in all of Europe, 

Andre Egwu

(Y/N) reached into the envelope and pulled out several pieces of parchment, each containing intricately painted dress designs in various shades of white, silver, and gold with a thin red sash tied around the waist. She smiled brightly at the letter and tucked the contents back in the envelope, setting it in the bin labeled “important” to remind herself to take a better look at them tomorrow morning. 

She turned back towards the kitchen countertop, gathering the letters from Gringotts, as well as notices from the Ministry of Magic, and sorting them into their respective piles. Charlie came out of the entrance closet where he stashed his dragon-hyde boots and the rest of his fireproof gear to the sound of the rustling of papers. Shaking his head, he turned into the kitchen with a faint smile. 

Even after all their hard work in Romania, she still managed to find another task to keep herself occupied. 

“I don’t think so,” Charlie uttered, pulling (Y/N) away from the mess, and gently pushing her against the kitchen wall. Charlie admired her beauty once more, placing his calloused hand on her waist, “You’ve been working all day, I’ll be damned if I see you cleaning this late” He spoke, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. 

“Charlie,” whined (Y/N), crossing her arms with a pout when her fiancé caged her in, “You know we’re behind on preparations,” she explained, placing her hands on his shoulders, and massaging them gently, “And you haven’t replied to Andre, he’s growing rather tense and so are you, it seems.” He caught himself admiring her once again, admiring how easy it was for her to read him. Charlie thought back to their years at Hogwarts and those moments where she would bring him exactly what he was craving for dinner or when she silently comforted him, even though he had not spoken about what bothered him. And even though he immediately eased up under her touch, his goal to keep her relaxed was unshakable. 

“You, my love,” hummed Charlie, running his thumb against the apples of her cheeks, “Are going to take a nice, warm bath while I make you dinner.” (Y/N) smiled up at Charlie lovingly, wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling her face in his broad chest, “What if I want you in the bath with me?” She asked playfully, her hands sliding down his waist and into the back pockets of his work trousers. 

Charlie chuckled darkly, his hands sliding towards the back of her thighs and lifting her off the ground, wrapping her legs around his hips, “Who am I to deny the lady what she wants?” boasted Charlie, tightly gripping the back of her thighs, and leaning his lips close to hers. 

“Such a gentleman,” (Y/N) muttered breathily, her hands gliding through Charlie’s and her nose brushing against his. Her soft lips brushed delicately against his, close enough so he could inhale her breath and feel the warmth radiating off her skin. Charlie’s heart pounded harshly against his chest; the feeling of her lips so close yet so far sending a subtle shiver down his spine. Understanding why she paused, Charlie closed the gap between them, his lips perfectly molding against hers and she swore she felt time stop. 

It did not matter how many times they shared a kiss, it still felt like that moment on the Quidditch Pitch. That moment when Charlie pushed through the crowds of cheering Gryffindors, the house cup forgotten in the hands of another team member, to pull her in for an electrifying kiss, one that set the course of their loving relationship. (Y/N) was so captivated by their kiss that she did not notice when Charlie expertly moved up the stairs and towards the master bathroom. 

It wasn’t until he set her down on the bathroom sink that she opened her eyes, laughing wholeheartedly as Charlie bent down to open the warm water, his endearing chuckle echoing through the bathroom. 

“You’re quite sneaky, aren’t you?” questioned (Y/N) teasingly, hopping off the countertop and making her way towards Charlie, her cold hands sliding underneath his long-sleeve making him jump. 

“And what does that make you?” He retorted flirtatiously and gripping her wrists, pulling her against his chest, his hand trailing down to the side of her neck. 

“Hm, a demiguise, maybe?” She asked innocently, her eyes shifting upwards in mock pondering and Charlie rolled his impatiently, tugging the hem of her jumper and slipping it off her body. 

“Of course, how could I have missed that? The long hair honestly seals the deal. Although…” He trailed off, his eyes scanning her bare torso and sneaking a hand behind her, his fingers drumming towards the clasp of her bra, “I’ve only ever seen your eyes light up like that when your squirming underneath me–” 

“Charlie!” (Y/N) exclaimed, gaping open mouthed at the blushing red-head and failing to catch her bra as it slipped down her front. She quickly crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her exposed breasts, and slid past her fiancée, “Enough playing around,” she stated firmly, turning her back towards him and unbuttoning her trousers, letting her panties fall on the floor with them and sliding into the warm water, “Get in before I change my mind” She grinned, splashing a handful of water across his chest. 

Charlie scoffed, but pulled off his shirt by the neck, almost tripping over his trousers as he tugged them off with urgency, “Alright, alright! I surrender!” With that, he sunk behind (Y/N), pulling her against his chest and peppering kisses against her cheek. 

The Burrow. December 5th, 1994.

“Oh, my dear!” Cried Mrs. Weasley, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as (Y/N) turned in her wedding dress. Andre Egwu stood behind her, proudly gazing and his handiwork and twisting the red sash so the diamond snowflake brooch sat comfortably on the left. 

“Come on,” Andre crooned, “tell me I’m a genius” he prodded with a smirk, stepping back to stand beside Mrs. Weasley with his hands stuffed in his pockets. 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, but turned to admire herself in the mirror, “I’m going to have to admit it this time,” she acknowledged, looking back at the satin train of her A-line gown, the tails of her red bow falling shorter than it, “You truly have outdone yourself, Andre. I really can’t thank you enough” 

Mrs. Weasley dabbed her eyes with her apron, sniffling as (Y/N) spoke, “You look radiant, (Y/N)! Charlie is going to faint when he sees you,” she beamed and walked to her, pulling her in for a tight hug. 

“But I still think you’re missing something,” Andre chimed in, drumming his fingers against the old brown box sitting on the bedroom dresser, “Like we discussed, Mrs. Weasley?” He added and (Y/N) raised a questioning eyebrow as Mrs. Weasley scurried to the desk and opened the box, shielding its contents from the soon to be bride. 

“It was Auntie Tessie’s wedding tiara,” Mrs. Weasley spoke up, beaming as she faced (Y/N), the sparkling headpiece held delicately in her hands. 

(Y/N)’s jaw almost hit the floor. Of course, she had expected Mrs. Weasley to pull out all the stops for their wedding, but she never thought she’d be hiding such a luxurious piece. 

“Mrs. Weasley– You can’t mean–,” stuttered (Y/N), shaking her head vigorously and her eyes jumping from Andre’s grinning face to Mrs. Weasley’s loving smile. 

“I do, dear,” she reassured, beckoning for her to come closer, “Andre sent me the letter when you picked your wedding dress! Of course, he didn’t know I would have the perfect piece to tie everything together, but Auntie Tessie left this behind when she passed and she especially fond of Charlie,” she began to explain, gazing down at the tiara and turning it to set it on (Y/N)’s head, “She wanted his future wife to wear it down the aisle. If that’s alright with you, of course.” 

(Y/N) turned to face the mirror once again, but this time focusing on the five sparkling rubies in the crystal tiara, “I don’t know what to say,” she forced out, overwhelmed with emotion at the sight of herself in a wedding dress, “And, yes. I want to wear this tiara, are you having a laugh?!” She exclaimed excitedly, tears welling up in her eyes as she threw her arms around her future mother-in-law, “You’ve been nothing, but kind to me all these years. I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” 

“My dear,” sniffled Mrs. Weasley, “How many times must I tell you? Charlie is the happiest I’ve ever seen him and that is all because of you, (Y/N)” she explained honestly, her hand rubbing up and down her back as they embraced, “All these years, he’s only spoken about you. How you make him feel and how important you are to him.” 

“Mrs. Weasley–”

“I think it’s high time you started calling me Molly, dear” interrupted Mrs. Weasley, pulling out of her embrace and holding (Y/N)’s shoulders tightly, “You’re going to make a wonderful bride, my darling” 

(Y/N) let out a small sob, her arms wrapping around her fiancé’s mother once again, “Thank you, Molly” she whispered, wiping her tears away and smiling down at her as tears streamed down both their faces. 

“I hate to interrupt,” Andre chimed in from behind them, the grin still evident on his face, “but I think we should get (Y/N) out of that dress before Charlie ruins the surprise.” 

The women nodded in agreement and (Y/N) removed the tiara, handing it to Molly, who returned it to its velvety cushioned box. 

“I’m going to go work on dinner, I’ll see the two of you down there in a bit,” She announced happily, exiting the room and descending the stairs to her kitchen. 

“Andre–” (Y/N) started, holding her friend by the elbows, “I have to find some way to repay you. After all these years– I mean, you made my first date outfit for Godric’s sake and you’ve never let me pay you once–”

“And I never will.” he retorted defiantly, “Your friendship is far more precious than some stupid galleons,” Explained Andre, placing his hand on her cheek, “You helped me find my passion in fashion design, you and McNully taught me how to become the best Keeper Ravenclaw house had ever seen and,” he paused, shifting around so she could look at herself in the mirror, “even though we’re not at school, you invite me to all your adventures and Ministry events. You and Charlie have given me so much and you don’t even realize it.” 

Andre took a step back, holding (Y/N)’s hands in admiration, “You deserve the very best on your wedding day, and so does Charlie. I’m just glad I’ve been along for the ride, but if you’re so adamant of repaying me,” he grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “Save me a dance the day of your wedding, that’s all I ask for.” 

The waterworks came once again, (Y/N) let out a small sob as she threw her arms around her long-term friend, “Of course, Andre,” she agreed, her voice wavering while they embraced, “Thank you so much for everything.” 

Andre smiled, his hand resting at the back of her head, “Anytime, Cursebreaker.” He muttered, “But we should get you out of that dress, I need to fix Charlie’s dress robes before dinner.” 

(Y/N) nodded in agreement and stepped out of his grasp, watching Andre head towards the door, “Make sure he doesn’t look better than me!” She joked as the door opened and Andre let out a hearty chuckle. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” He shot her a wink and slipped out of the room, the door closing gently behind him and his voice booming down the stairs while he yelled for Charlie. 

(Y/N) laughed when she heard Charlie’s startled yell and the door to his bedroom slamming open. Her hands slid down the soft satin of her dress, the rhinestone straps glinting as the sunset over the horizon and the ghost of a smile decorating her relaxed features. 

“Only a month away,” she thought joyfully and hung up the dress in its black garment bag before joining Molly in the kitchen. 

Scotland. January 5th, 1995. 

Wedding preparations were in full swing at the home of Charlie Weasley and (Y/N) Selwyn. The family of the bride and groom ran up and down the house, folding the seating arrangements and fixing any stray flower bouquets that remained in the kitchen. 

“George!” Bellowed Mrs. Weasley as he and Fred slid down the bannister, their ties around their heads and vests unbuttoned, “You two better straighten up before the guests arrive!” 

“Molly dear,” Mr. Weasley spoke up from behind her, his hands running down her arms soothingly, “They’re just excited, I’m sure they’ll settle down soon” 

Mrs. Weasley placed her hand over her husband’s while the other soothed the velvet of her elegant green dress, “I’m sure you’re right, Arthur. I just want everything to be perfect for Charlie and (Y/N)’s special day.” 

“I know, Mollywobbles,” he muttered, pressing a kiss against his wife’s forehead as she blushes furiously, her cheeks turning as red as her hair.

“Come now, Arthur,” she urged, but unable to fight the smile that formed on her face, “Let us go finish up the tent” 

Outside stood Charlie, running up and down the wedding tent, yelling orders to his younger brothers who had, apparently, never seen this side of Charlie before. 

“No–! Percy!” He groaned, straightening the ribbon against the back of it, “Over and under, like this!” Charlie twisted the ribbon, leaving a delicate bow to decorate the pearl white chairs. 

“I am perfectly capable of tying a ribbon, Charles.” declared Percy pompously, demonstrating his bow-tying skills on the next chair, but struggling a little more than Charlie had. 

Charlie let out a small sigh, adjusting his tie and the lapels of his red and black dress robes, “I know,” he admitted solemnly, “I just want everything to be perfect, (Y/N)’s spent so long planning this–” 

“Don’t worry,” Percy interjected, “With William and I here, everything is bound to go smoothly.” He grinned, placing his hand on his older brother’s shoulder, “We’re the most responsible and we’ll make sure everything goes smoothly, for you and (Y/N)” 

Charlie sighed, but this time out of relief, his arms wrapping tightly around Percy, “Thank you for being here, Perce. I know it wasn’t easy to get time off.” 

Percy let out a small scoff, “You think I would miss my brother’s wedding? Mr. Crouch’s cauldron bottoms can wait until after the ceremony, even though it’s rather painful to put off my work for this long.” 

Charlie fought back the urge to ruffle his brother’s hair, “When did you get so grown up?” He asked playfully, “I still remember you killing spiders for Ronnie.” 

Percy rolled his eyes at his remark, but smiled nonetheless, “We all grow up eventually, Charlie. Just look at today, I could not be prouder of you and I know Mum and Dad are too.”

Charlie thanked Percy with another hug, but their moment was interrupted by Bill, who was waving his wand towards the marital archway, making light silvery roses appear in between the bright red ones, “Oi! Guests are arriving in twenty minutes, we’ve got time for friendly chats later, but we really need to get everything together before they apparate!”

Percy nodded in agreement, striding down the silver carpet and clearing out a path through the snow, raising another set of tents from the entrance of their house towards the wedding tent. Charlie joined his brother near the archway, clapping him on the shoulder and waving his wand so the rest of the flowers appeared on top of the seat ribbons. 

A gaggle of women hid inside the master bedroom on the second story of their home, a half-empty champagne bottle resting on the vanity with six empty glasses surrounding it. Six girls stood around the bedroom window, gazing down at the boys in the garden with wide grins, “This dress is quite beautiful!” exclaimed Rowan Khanna, turning to examine herself in the mirror, “Andre truly has outdone himself!” Her dress was slightly different than the other girls. It was still made out of the same silver fabric as the other ones, but her’s contained an array of silver crystals covering the left side of the bodice while a ruched one-shoulder sleeve came up and around her right shoulder 

“I agree,” chimed in Penny Haywood, twirling around in her floor-length silver dress, “I can’t believe the day is finally here!” she squealed. Her dress also contained a ruched one-shoulder strap but lacked the bodice crystals in favor of a criss-cross fabric belt around her dress, “Tonks! Stop messing with it!” 

Nymphadora Tonks shifted in her seat as Penny attempted to soothe her bright pink hair, which she had grown out to shoulder length for the occasion, “It looks too neat!” complained Tonks, ruffling her unnaturally straight hair, and curling the bottoms of it with her wand. Tonks and Tulip were wearing the second variation of Andre’s dress, it contained the same details as the others, the only difference being the two straps in contrast to the one-shoulder Penny and Merula wore. 

“I think it looks quite nice,” muttered Merula Snyde, gazing at her straightened hair, “Don’t you think this color brings out my eyes?” She asked absentmindedly, her hands running over the chiffon gown.

“Oh, please” groaned Tulip Karasu with a grin, “That’s what you said during the Celestial Ball!” 

Merula glared towards Tulip, “And was I wrong?” she asked, throwing one of the satin dressing gowns they wore while getting ready. The two girls broke out in a fit of laughter, launching the dressing robes at each other and dodging them swiftly and the other bridesmaids joining in until the sound of the bathroom door opening caught their attention. 

“Merlin’s beard,” gasped Rowan at the sight of her best friend standing underneath the doorway, an angelic glow radiating off her, “(Y/N), you look–”

“Breathtaking,” finished Merula, her lips curling into a devious smile, “Weasley is going to lose his mind when he sees you.” 

Penny nodded in agreement, rushing to (Y/N)’s side and taking her by the hand, “I promised you I wouldn’t cry, but I honestly think I am going to break down during the ceremony.” admitted Penny, and the other girls joined her around the bride. 

“You guys,” (Y/N) smiled sheepishly, gazing around her friends, and pulling them all in for a messy group hug, “I can’t believe this is actually happening,” she admitted, a sniffle resonating through the room as she pulled back, “And you’re all here, what more could I ask for?”

“How ‘bout a sack of galleons from your boss at Gringotts?” joked Merula, slapping (Y/N)’s arms and laughing along with the rest of the girls. Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) returned Merula’s slap with one of her own and stepped towards the vanity table to add the finishing touches to her hair. 

“Oh! Let me help you,” exclaimed Rowan, rushing behind (Y/N) and picking her wand up from the table, “I’ve spent hours reading hair-spell books, I want to be the world’s best Maid of Honor!” She ran her fingers delicately through the curls of (Y/N)’s hair, waving her wand and uttering an incantation so a thin stream of hairspray sprayed out of the tip. Unlike ordinary hairspray, this magical substance would ensure the curls stayed intact even if she stood in a hurricane zone. 

(Y/N) smiled at Rowan through the mirror, fighting back the tears that were welling up in her eyes, “Rowan, I’m so glad you’re here, I still remember when we first met and the wonderful scarf I picked out for you” 

Rowan laughed as she sprayed another curl in place, “I still have that scarf, it was approved by Andre and everything so you should start calling yourself a style-wizard as well.” As the two best friends reminisced, Penny and Tonks were opening the brown-leather box, gaping at the tiara with admiration and carefully wiping it with polish to amplify its shine. 

“Some guests are arriving,” Tulip announced, looking out the window with Merula, the two of them craning their necks to see the small group pass through the snow led by Percy and Molly Weasley who bore wide grins. 

In the sitting room, the groom and his groomsmen gathered around the kitchen island, six glasses of firewhiskey resting on the countertop, “No, I-I really shouldn’t” Charlie pleaded, raising his hand out to block the shot glass his best-man, Andre, was forcing into his grasp. 

“Just one!” urged Andre, wiggling the glass in front of him as Bill and Barnaby raised their own in celebration, “(Y/N)’s had her champagne! I saw the glass, I promise!”

“I’m even having one, Charlie!” added Ben Copper, raising his glass to meet Barnaby and Bill, earning a laugh from Jacob Selwyn as he rounded the corner of the island, his own shot glass in hand.

“Charlie, I know you and my baby-sis talked about it and in all honesty, mate…” started Jacob, his eyes scanning Charlie’s tense behavior, “You need to loosen up a little, I saw you yelling at chair ribbons before the guests arrived.” 

The groomsmen laughed, earning a small scoff of amusement from Charlie, “Alright, alright!” He boomed, snatching the glass from Andre, and raising it into the circle with the rest of his men, “But I’m making you all take three at the reception!” 

“That’s fine by me!” cheered Barnaby Lee, “We don’t have drinks at work; they’re all a bunch of prats really” he jested, gazing at the firewhiskey bottle longingly, “I’ll do however many you want!” 

“Enough talking! To Charlie and (Y/N)!” bellowed Bill Weasley, flashing a toothy smile while Jacob patted Charlie’s back encouragingly. Jacob’s relationship with (Y/N) had strengthened significantly as years passed and although he loved having a younger sister, a part of him always wanted a brother. And, after months of getting to know him, finally found one in Charlie. 

The groom and his groomsmen down their shots, slamming the decorative glasses down on the countertop and filing out of the house, excitedly patting Charlie on the back as they urged him out the front door. Several minutes later, the girls, in their matching silver dresses, came down the stairs excitedly waving their red and white bouquets. 

(Y/N) came down the stairs, her dress and veil trailing behind her as she gripped the banister, her other hand carrying her much larger bouquet which contained a set of additional black roses mixed in with the red and white ones to match with Charlie’s robes. With the guests settled in their seats, Jacob ran back into the house and past the curtains dividing the tent connected to the front door. 

“Look at you...” He gaped, his eyes wide in admiration when he finally caught sight of his little sister in her wedding gown, the sparkling tiara sitting perfectly atop her head, “I wish Mum and Dad could see you.” added Jacob in a whisper, reaching for her hands and smiling softly as their eyes met. 

“Me too,” added (Y/N) earnestly, “We’ll visit their grave before the honeymoon, it’s not much, but it’s the least we can do.” She proposed and Jacob nodded in agreement, squeezing his sister’s hands while she spoke. 

“I’ll tell you this, though,” chuckled Jacob, sneakily glancing out the tent as the music started, “I’m surprised Charlie isn’t sweating bullets, he looks more nervous than that time he asked for my permission.” The two siblings broke out in a fit of laughter, heading closer to the door as, unbeknownst to them, the wizard officiant began making his way down the decorated aisle, waving happily at the guests. 

“It’s almost time,” muttered (Y/N), butterflies fluttering in her stomach as they stood behind the icicle wedding curtains, “Oh my god, I’m getting married.” She could feel the nerves overcoming her excitement, a small lump forming in her throat as she worried about the many things that could go wrong, one being tripping down the aisle. 

“Hey,” Jacob spoke out, turning her by the shoulders while Charlie and Andre strode confidently down the aisle, the soft violin accompanying them as the sound of cheering whistles followed after them. “You, my dear sister, have dealt with cursed ice, magical ciphers, loony and manipulative professors, and  – not to mention –  spent the last few months taking care of hordes of dragons. The most dangerous creatures, according to the Ministry registry,” He explained comfortingly, his hands running down the side of her arms, “I think you can walk down this aisle and meet the man you love, and more importantly, who loves you without anything to worry about.” 

(Y/N) bit her lip at her brother’s words, throwing her arms around him and pulling him into a tight hug, “Thank you, Jacob,” her voice wavering, “Thank you so much.” 

Jacob rubbed her back comfortingly, looking over her shoulder to see the bridesmaids making their way towards the archway, “Anytime, baby sister. Anytime.” 

“But” he added, pulling away from their hug and grabbing the first layer of her veil, pulling it over her face with a gentle smile, “I think Rowan is about to walk down and the only tears I want to see are Charlie’s.” Pressing a kiss against her cheek, Jacob turned his sister towards the curtain, bright smiles pulling at their lips. 

Charlie stood nervously at the archway, conspicuously twiddling his fingers as the song changed and the icicle curtains were pulled open by an unseen force of magic. At the sound of the change, Charlie looked up and as soon as he met (Y/N)’s gentle expression, all his worries slipped away, and his mind blocked out everyone else at the venue. 

He wanted to burn the image of (Y/N) in her stunning white dress into his memory. A sight he had been dreaming of since their one-year anniversary, one that surpassed the vision of her during their first date or the ones of her during the Celestial Ball. As she was led down the aisle by Jacob, Charlie made a mental note to thank Andre with the largest slice of cake or some-kind of present because this was, honestly, the perfect gown for (Y/N). 

The dazzling white pleated crisscross sweetheart neck bodice fit perfectly, the red sash around her middle accentuating her waist most breathtakingly. The small snowflake brooch on the left side of her sash sparkled brilliantly, matching perfectly with the delicate rhinestone straps that fell delicately over her shoulders. His eyes trailed upwards, his grin faltering at the sight of Great Auntie Tessie’s tiara underneath (Y/N)’s veil and he finally took notice of the tears that spilled out of his eyes. He hastily wiped them away, stepping down towards the carpet to meet (Y/N) and Jacob a few meters from the archway. Charlie grasped Jacob’s hand tightly, giving it a stern shake before taking (Y/N)’s hand delicately into his own, leading her in front of the officiant. 

Charlie held both of her hands, looking her over and sighing in amazement as he pulled the veil back, exposing her flushed face and the dazzling tiara, “You look–” He breathed out, unable to find an appropriate word to describe how incredibly gorgeous she looked.

“Breathtaking?” She finished with a mischievous gaze and placed a kiss against Charlie’s cheek who blushed furiously as they turned towards the officiant. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said the sing-song voice of the officiant who raised his arms in acknowledgment to the couple as a collective silence fell over the crowd, “We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two beautiful faithful souls.” 

The wedding guests watched avidly, some moving towards the edge of their seats with intricate handkerchiefs as the couple turned sideways, their hands intertwined. 

“Do you Charles Septimus Weasley, take (Y/N) Selwyn to live together in marriage? to cherish in friendship and love today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you live, to trust and honor her? to love her faithfully, through the best and the worst, whatever may come, and if you should ever doubt, to remember your love for each other and the reason why you came together with her this day?” 

Charlie was nodding eagerly before the officiant had even finished his spiel, tears streaming down his face but an unwavering smile decorating his freckled face, “I do. More than anything in the world.” 

(Y/N) beamed back at him, squeezing his hands tightly and releasing them momentarily so Charlie could slip the wedding band onto her finger. The officiant turned towards (Y/N), the smile on his face widening as he opened his mouth to speak. 

“Do you, (Y/N) Selwyn take Charles Septimus Weasley…” the words floated away from (Y/N)’s mind, she registered the officiant speaking but she could only focus on the man in front of her and how his hands felt in hers. The way his dress robes fit perfectly and how they brought out the color of his bright green eyes. She felt her hand moving on its own to grip the golden band and the words, “I do” sliding past her lips and she recalled it being the easiest phrase she ever had to say in her life. 

The two of them did not register the happy sobs of Mrs. Weasley in the front row or the audible sniffles of Barnaby, Penny, and Rowan beside them. They even blocked out the loud trumpeting noises at the back of the wedding venue that undoubtedly came from Hagrid with Professor McGonagall dabbing her eyes an aura of dignity by his side.

The two of them only returned to the present moment when the officiant uttered the words, “Then I declare you, bonded for life.” With that, a stream of glittering snowflakes came out from the tip of the officiant’s wand, spirling over (Y/N) and Charlie’s heads. 

“Come here,” Charlie practically growled, twirling (Y/N), pulling her in by the waist, and pressing his lips against her. At that moment, it felt like all the planets had aligned to create a timeless- one passionate moment that defined the future of their relationship. Overwhelmed by happiness, Charlie turned his wife in his arms and dipped her in front of the whole crowd, the sound of thundering claps and booming cheers filling the tent while they kissed. (Y/N)’s leg was lifted beside him, stretched perfectly and peeking underneath her gorgeous gown as the heat rose in her cheeks, that familiar sensation of liquid lightning coursing through her body. 

The newlyweds turned upright again, pressing their foreheads together as they laughed and returned to the tumultuous crowd surrounding them. Charlie and (Y/N) raised their intertwined hands and the excited guests rose from their seats, their chairs disappearing only to be replaced by the reception tables and an ample dance floor. Overlapping ‘congratulations’ came from the numerous guests, patting the couple in support as they made their way towards the dance floor with their wedding party. 

“I love you, more than you’ll ever know,” Charlie spoke out, spinning (Y/N) as they shared their first dance, the lights dimming around them as the crowd watched them. 

“I love you so much, Charles,” replied (Y/N), placing her hand on his cheek and leaning in to steal another kiss, “And I’ll spend every day showing you just how much.” Charlie let out a gleeful laugh, spinning his wife around the dance floor and pulling her towards their table once they finished. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,” a soft voice caught their attention and they both turned to see Professor Dumbledore, McGonagall, and - to both their surprise - Professor Snape standing in front of them. 

“Professors!” (Y/N) exclaimed, “We’re so glad you could make it! We thought with the tournament it’d be difficult to get away-” 

“Nevermind that!” dismissed McGonagall, placing her hand on the bride’s shoulders, “I’m so proud of you and Charles,” she gushed, unlike her usually composed self, a small hint of moisture underneath her eyes, “Professor Dumbledore insisted we attend.”

“Yes,” added Snape in his usual tone, unlike McGonagall, he was devoid of any emotion, “Even I have to congratulate you on this joyous occasion,” he explained, his black eyes scanning over the crowd and back on his former pupil, “It seems Selwyn- or must I say, Weasley, that you have grown into a capable young witch. One Slytherin house was very proud to have.” 

(Y/N), overcome with the emotion of the celebration, wrapped her arms around the Hogwarts Potions’ Master who returned her embrace with a very stiff pat on the back, “Come now, Severus.” Dumbledore added gleefully, his eyes twinkling with excitement, “I’m sure Mrs. Weasley is just happy to see you.” 

Charlie let out a small snort, unable to contain his laughter as Snape recoiled and his wife returned to his side, “But Minerva is right, we are all very proud of you and I am not one to miss a wonderful evening to celebrate love.” 

“Please, help yourselves with food and drink!” urged Charlie, gesturing towards the tables and bar, “We’ll be resuming the dancing shortly, we’re so thrilled to have you here.” He finishing confidently, shaking Dumbledore’s hand who returned his smile with one of his own. 

“Will do,” He agreed with a nod of the head, “We’ll leave you two to it then!” With that, the three Professors trailed off to speak with Charlie’s parents who stood excitedly at the bar. 

“Do you think I went a bit overboard?” asked (Y/N) cautiously once they left, a small giggle overcoming her as Charlie vigorously shook his head, “Are you mad? It’s our wedding day, we’re allowed to go overboard.” He reassured, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

“Well, if that’s the case… I could use a drink,” she whispered coquettishly but was interrupted by their wedding party clearing their throats behind them. 

“Wow, Weasley,” Merula pipped up, “I thought you were an excellent Legilimens, if you were, you could’ve heard us coming from a mile away” she teased with Rowan waving a shot glass as (Y/N) turned around. 

“You’re not allowed to tease today, Merula!” She exclaimed happily, taking the shot glass from her and pulling Charlie along so he could grab his from Andre, “I’m a married woman now! I get a free pass!” 

Merula rolled her eyes but gave in to her request, “As long as you take this drink, I won’t say anything!”

“Who knew it only alcohol to get Merula to lay off?” Barnaby quipped, earning a small punch which hurt her from than him due to the considerable amount of muscle he gained throughout the years. 

“I’m not going to wait any longer!” threatened Ben, raising his shot glass towards Charlie, “Ready?” he announced and everyone raised their glasses in a circle, “To life and happiness!” 

“To life and happiness!” They bellowed in unison, downing the chocolate vodka liqueur and extending their glasses towards Bill, who had hidden the bottle behind his back.

“Charlie did say three!” He announced, replicating the sing-song voice of the old officiant, “So everyone better have an excellent tolerance tonight because we’re celebrating until dawn!” 

Tonks threw an arm excitedly around Penny’s shoulders, almost spilling the contents of their shot glasses but laughing as Bill continued to pour their drinks. 

“You better switch up the drinks then!” Tulip muttered while sniffing the glass, grimacing at the strong scent of alcohol that practically burned her nostrils, “I’m more of a firewhiskey girl.”

“I’m going to have to agree,” nodded Jacob, “Not about the girl part, but I do like to mix things up… I wonder if they’ll prepare my specialty drink at the bar,” he pondered, looking longingly at the bar with a mischievous smirk. 

“On three!” Andre yelled, catching everyone’s attention and he gestured towards Rowan so she could join in on the count down. 

“Three!” Andre and Rowan finished chanting, throwing their heads back and swallowing their drinks before bellowing out indistinct cheers. 

“I know you guys said three-” whined Penny, shaking her hands in front of her glass but it was snatched away by (Y/N) so Bill could pour their final shot, “Oh, come on! At least let me breathe!” 

“You’ll breathe when we eat and dance!” dismissed Tonks, forcing the glass back into Penny’s hands who reluctantly raised it towards the happy couple, “Your turn!”

“Ready?” Charlie asked (Y/N), a dark blush spreading across his cheeks as he felt the early onsets on the alcohol affecting his body, “Let’s do that arm thing we talked about…” he whispered excitedly, pressing soft kisses against her cheek making her giggle. 

“You’re so in love, Mr. Weasley,” She muttered with a small shake of the head, “But so am I” (Y/N) pressed a kiss against his nose and linked her arm around his, “On three!” she exclaimed, forcing her glass as close to her lips as possible. On three, the wedding party downed their third shot of the evening, some of them shivering as the alcohol coursed down their esophagus. 

“Alright, let’s dance!” yelled Ben and Barnaby, pulling the bridesmaids away towards the dance floor to join the rest of the excited guests. 

“If you don’t mind,” interjected Andre, extending his hand towards (Y/N), “I do believe you owe me a dance?” he reminded her, and (Y/N) quickly slid her hand into his. 

“You’re quite right, most notable style-wizard of all Europe,” she replied, shooting Charlie an apologetic look but he only smiled, “Don’t worry,” He reassured, “I’ve got to see Mum and Dad.”

Andre pulled (Y/N) away towards the dance floor, the two of them spinning away towards the middle with wide grins. Charlie joined his family, who overwhelmed them with hugs and kisses, including his thirteen-year-old sister who had traveled with Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid to be there for the occasion. The rest of the guests danced and conversed excitedly, eating away at the delicious food the white-robed servers had brought to their tables. 

Jacob Selwyn sat at one of the farthest tables, exchanging stories with his sister’s old prefect, Felix Rosier who was accompanied by Angelica Cole, the former Gryffindor prefect. Sometime during the evening, Hagrid appeared in front of (Y/N) and Charlie Weasley in his mole-skin coat and tears streaming down his face, lifting them both up from the ground as he happily embraced the two of them. 

“So grown-up” cried Hagrid, wiping his tears away when he set them down, “I remember when yeh were both this tall” he gestured downwards, replicating their heights during the first-year and the couple nodded happily, red tinges on both their cheeks as the giggled at Hagrid’s remarks. 

The rest of the night went by smoothly, exchanging numerous conversations with witches and wizards they could hardly remember their names of due to the amount of alcohol in their system. (Y/N) was spun around the dancefloor but all of the Weasley siblings, even performing an impressive three-person tango with Fred and George, who seemed to have more to drink than the newlyweds themselves. Charlie was joined on the dance floor by his mother and father, his best man, and, at one point, Jacob who had raised him onto his shoulders at the climax of the song. 

While they were dancing, Ronald Weasley explained his blunder with Hermione at the ball to (Y/N), who automatically dragged him away to the muggle-born witch to correct his mistake and giggled excitedly when she saw the two twirling in a small circle with Harry and Ginny at their side. Some of the guests began to politely excused themselves by midnight, waving the couple off after leaving the gifts at the respective table and heading out towards the garden to the designated disappartation point. 

The celebration did not stop until the first hints of sunlight gleamed over the horizon. At that point, most of the younger guests had retreated inside the home to sleep on transfigured mattresses set up throughout the newlyweds’ home. Rowan and Bill had to forcibly escort (Y/N) and Charlie away from the dance floor since the two expressed their desire to stay until the sun shone above them but kept closing their eyes as they embraced. 

“Come on, little brother” chuckled Bill, winking at Rowan as he pushed Charlie, who continued to hum the processional song, up the stairs. Rowan blushed furiously at Bill’s actions but kept her eyes on (Y/N), who was spinning Great Aunt Tessie’s ruby tiara in her hands at the rhythm of Charlie’s humming, “I’ll have to thank you for that,” whispered Rowan excitedly, gazing longingly up at Bill and successfully getting the couple into the bedroom. 

Bill removed their shoes while they giggled on the bed, exchanging several kisses while Rowan secured the tiara in its leather box, “Think we should help them change?” asked Rowan, turning towards Bill, but quickly realizing the answer to her question. 

“I think that’ll be a no,” declared Bill, running a hand through his hair and extending the other towards Rowan, “Let’s go before we see something we don’t need to see. I think I saw an empty mattress in the room Andre is staying in.” Rowan nodded stiffly, sliding her hand into Bill’s and quickly closing the door behind her, locking the door for good measure. 

On the bed, Charlie shrugged off his overcoat and threw it to the side while (Y/N) pulled on his tie, undoing it and tossing it with the rest of his outfit. His lips mashed against hers, his tongue pushing past her teeth as she gripped his head firmly, locking him in their embrace as she fell back on the mattress and her dress pooled underneath her. 

“My dress,” she moaned against Charlie’s lips and he let out a small laugh, shrugging his dress shirt off and reaching behind for the zipper of her dress, “Of course, we can’t desecrate such a delicate creation,” he mumbled against her lips and lifted her up so she could wiggle out of it. (Y/N) laughed as the cold air hit her body, winking at Charlie as his eyes widened at the sight of the bright-white lacy lingerie she had hidden under her dress.

“Like what you see?” she teased, attempting to wriggle away from his grip, but he caught her by the waist and pulled her onto her back, “Don’t you dare, my darling” growled Charlie, pressing harsh kisses against her neck and pulling her stocking-clad thighs around his waist. 

“I love you,” gasped (Y/N) as Charlie groped her breast, her fingernails digging into his broad back and her hips grinding upwards to meet his, “So so much.” Charlie cupped her cheek, harshly pulling her up to exchange another kiss, not satisfied – no matter how mesmerizing they were – by the previous ones. 

“More,” groaned Charlie, his red-hair falling over his eyes as he pulled away to mutter against her lips, “I love you more” he breathed out, pressing kisses in between each word and pulling his wand out of his trousers, and uttering inaudible silencing charms towards the door. 

The two of them grasped messily at each other, running their hands over each others’ bodies and leaving marks that would surely be visible in the afternoon.

[brooktrout96]

You Have Always Been There For us, Risking Your Life to Protect Us

One-shot 1 of The Zero to Hero Series

AO3 is Here

Set between Chapter 2 and Chapter 3

The first time Zero met Eraserhead was an accident, Eraserhead had lost against a villain and Zero was on patrol, looking for people who needed help. The second time was on purpose, he need help on a case and the third was unknown to him but was helpful nonetheless.

Note: The first two meeting between Zero as Shin and Aizawa are set a week before Izuku’s first day at Yūei. The second meeting is on the second day of class at Yūei

Zero didn’t like sitting idly, when he could be protecting those who couldn’t. Izuku had explained to him that those who weren’t heroes and that fought villains without a license were called Vigilantes and were considered as bad as villains in the eyes of the law even though they were doing so much good.

Izuku was asleep as Zero pulled out a custom hoodie that he had gotten made by a fashion designer who works with Heroes. It was lightweight and made from Kevlar, designed to look like his Ultra form and based off the one that Inko had made for him. He slipped it on alongside his mask that covered half of his face and snuck out the windows. He jumped from building to building and down to ground level if he caught sight of people in need.

He paused as he heard fighting nearby. He looked down and saw a slender and tall pale-skinned man with messy, shoulder-length black hair, and a ragged black outfit that consists of a long-sleeved shirt and matching pants that tuck into his boots, wearing a utility belt and a scarf

He watched as the hero got trounced by the young woman who never used her Quirk. She had a   smile on her face as she laughed

“So, this is all that earth’s heroes can offer, a pathetically easy battle with a weak power.”

Zero summoned his Zero Slugger and threw it at the woman. She and the hero paused as he jumped down from the roof and gave a soft smile that was hidden by his protective mask, as his sluggers sent the woman sliding away from the hero. He checked on the hero and then he turned back to where the woman once stood and standing in her place was an Alien Zarab

“Who are you?” The Alien Zarab paused as she seems to study him as she dodged another one of his attacks. “There is no way you’re him, he wouldn’t have came here.” She the dodged the Slugger as she paused and began to muttered. “But it must be.”

“Ultraman Zero! Why don’t you just die!” The Zarab roared as it went and attacked Zero as he slide to the side and dodge the attack as his Zero Slugger return to him as he parred the attack with the bladed-boomerang

The hero was about to rejoin the battle as Zero yelled at him. “Don’t, she trounced you once before.”

“But-”

“No buts, I can handle her.” Zero said to the hero as he turned back to the Zarab.  "You're 20,000 years too early to beat me!" Zero had a grinned on his face as he made the Zero Sluggers into a crescent-shaped blade as he slashed at the Zarab as she shot at Zero. The Zero Twin Sword then let out a wave of energy as the Zarab disappeared and the attack hit the wall behind the Zarab. “Damn it.”

Zero turned to look at the hero with a concern look on his face as the hero got up and dusted himself as Zero prepared to leave as he turned to jump to the nearest building.

“Who are you?” The Hero asked as Zero turned back to him.

“My name is Zero, Ultraman Zero, what about you?”

“My name is Eraserhead and you are come with me.” Zero jumped to the roof of the nearby building with a spark of green lighting around him as Eraserhead threw his capture scarf toward where he once was standing as Zero gave a laugh

“You can’t catch what’s too fast.” He took off running as Eraserhead took chase but he lost the young vigilante

~***~

I’m glad I found you, Eraserhead” Aizawa jumped as the vigilante named Zero appeared next to him. “I have some intel; I would take it to the police but then I'd be in prison.” He held a folder in his hand as he handed it over to Aizawa

“What’s this on?”

“A case of missing heroes, as far as I can tell the disappearances are unrelated but I think there.” He paused as he stopped noticing a short haired blond wearing red in all the photos of the scene of the disappearance. “That’s. Shit!”  Zero dragged Aizawa to the ground as a shot went flying passed where their heads once were. Zero jumped up to stand as Aizawa joining him. There standing in front of them was a 5”4 blond wearing a black and red outfit.

“Now, now Ultraman Zero, stay out of thing that don’t include you.”

“Eraserhead, she’s a robot, so you don’t have to worry about keeping her alive.” She charged at Zero as he sidestepped her attack as he shoved One-Zero away. She held a ball in her hand and twisted it as she summoned a bunch of Chiburoids. “And she seemed to have brought back-up.” Zero dodged one of the Chiburoids’ attack as he summoned his Sluggers and Aizawa pulled a knife out of his utilities belt as they stood back to back. “One good hit should take them out, and her name is One-Zero, she a robot.”

“Right anything else, I need to know about?”

“She can use electricity to electrify her punches and she’s able to throw said electricity around. She also is faster and stronger then a normal human without a strength or speed enhancing Quirk, even then I think that she still would be faster and stronger. The Chiburoids should be easy to take out, one good hit to neck should cause them to break down, unless they’ve been updated since the last time, I fought them.”

The two began to fight off the Chiburoids as One-Zero attacked Zero as he used one of the Chiburoids as a shield blocking her punch as he flung the bot toward her as she short-circuited it. She went for another attack as Aizawa flung the bot he was fight into her way as she sent said bot to the ground. She sent another round of Chiburoids at them as she took off running as Zero attempted to give chase but was stopped by the Chiburoids.

~***~

“You lied to me, Deku!” Bakugou roared as he had corner Izuku outside of 1-A.

“I... I didn’t Kacchan. I… was… Quirkless… until… three… months before… the entrance… exam.”

His Quirk was active ready to hurt Izuku and Zero couldn’t watch this anymore. “Sorry Izuku, I know that you don’t want to confront him but it has to be done.” Zero took control as Zeku shove Bakugou away from him.

“Bakugou, I thought you would be happy that I got a Quirk.” He paused as he glared at Bakugou with distain. “My Quirk is so powerful that before it could come in, I had to be in the best shape possible, and because of that, I spent eleven years being ridiculed and bullied for being Quirkless and then when my ‘best friend since childhood’.” He dose air quotes, “learned that my Quirk came in, you would think he would be grateful but he think that I lied to him for eleven years about not have a Quirk. I mean why would I when I dreamed of become a hero and working alongside you.” He took one deep breath. “I don’t blame you, though. I blame the damn school that never stopped the bulling and let you and other do what ever they wanted to the ‘Quirkless’ kid.” Bakugou froze as Zeku walked passed him into 1-A classroom as he shook himself out of his stupor

Aizawa was watch the conversation wondering what he had missed between the boys. At first, he thought the two had a rivalry but this wasn’t not what he expected. He would need to gather more evidence before he could do anything

[today-only-happens-once]

With Great Power - Chapter 3

Title: With Great Power – Chapter 3

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Read On AO3

Fic Summary: Thomas Sanders is just a regular social media personality. But when he gets bit by a spider during filming one of his YouTube videos, his whole life is about to turn upside down—whether he (or the aspects of his personality) want it to or not. Platonic LAMP/CALM + Character!Thomas. Spider-Man AU (but more the concept of Spider-Man and contains no spoilers for any particular movie/comic series).

Word Count: 3503

Warnings: violence, cursing, blood, attempted kidnapping of a child, dangerous driving/passenger behavior, bruising, nausea, food mention, custody battle mention. 

A/N: I didn’t expect this chapter to go the way it did. It became one of those “characters sometimes have minds of their own and I get taken for a joyride as a writer” kind of chapters. Thank you so much to @creativenostalgiastuff​ for looking this chapter over for me since I was extra doubtful about it. Also, if some of this gets confusing it’s 100% my fault. It got hard to put the picture and sequence in my head onto paper. Yikes.

Tags: @captain-loki-xavier @magicpanda31 @the-peculiar-bi-tch @mining-pup @band-be-boss-blog @asexual-trashbag @samathekittycat @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @theobsessor1 @always3charcoaltea @changeling-ash @logical-princey @crimsonshadow323  @flickering-raven@smokeyrutilequartz, @dontbugmeimantisocial, @soijusthavetoask, @marvelfangeek09, @vigilantvirgil, @princelogical

…

Thomas paces in front of the office building. It’s mostly overcast, the sky a flat gray color that promises rain. The office was tucked away in a more run-down section of Gainesville, which certainly helped with the affordability of the location. The wind is picking up a little and Thomas tugs the hood of his gray sweatshirt up over his head against the chilly breeze. In the back of his mind, he’s grateful he had enough sense to grab it and a scarf from the hook in the hallway on his way out of the building.

He breathes in through his nose, out through his mouth. He looks out at the parking lot, wondering briefly if maybe he could just go home. Tell Joan he wasn’t feeling well. Then again, Thomas can’t be sure they’d even believe him. Especially after he just effortlessly stopped a bookcase from falling on them with one arm. He should have listened to Patton and Logan and stayed home today.

Thomas groans under his breath and rakes a hand through his bangs to push them out of his eyes again. He stops pacing and leans back against the brick wall. Just a few minutes out here to get his heart to slow back down to a normal pace and then he’d go back inside and pretend like everything was fine. He’d at least get through filming today.

Thomas watches absently as a dark green van pulls into the mostly-empty parking lot. There’s another cold gust of air and Thomas tugs his scarf up over his nose to brace against it. The van pulls into a spot several yards away, and Thomas sees a young woman climb out of the driver’s seat.

She looks like she’s maybe only a handful of years older than Thomas, a frazzled ponytail swishing behind her as she opens one of the passenger doors. She fusses with something in the backseat that Thomas can’t see until she emerges with a toddler—big glasses and a flop of blonde hair—propped on her hip. He seems to be babbling about something to the woman, clutching onto her shirt. She says something in reply to him, then adjusts his glasses and kisses the top of his head before setting him down on the pavement. The little boy is looking up at her and grabs her hand, his babbling continuing.

Thomas smiles faintly at the sweet display. He fishes his phone out of his pocket, wanting to give the family some privacy instead of staring at them. He scrolls through Twitter for a moment, smiling as he notices a fan’s artwork of Patton making pancakes. Thomas retweets it, adding a comment of “omg I love this so much! Thank you!”.

“Hey, what are you doing here? What are--no!”

The shout from across the parking lot grabs his attention immediately. Thomas looks up and shoves his phone into his pocket. A car that Thomas hadn’t noticed pull up has parked itself beside the green van. But more concerning than that are the two large men, one of whom has the little boy’s arm in a tight grip. The other steps in front of the woman as she lunges to grab the boy.

Thomas is halfway across the parking lot before he’s even fully processed what is happening.

“You can’t take him!” The woman begs. The little boy starts screaming and thrashing, but his strength is no match for man holding onto him. The woman shoves against the man in front of her with all her strength, but he only stumbles back a step or two before he roughly shoves her into her car.

Thomas is sprinting. “Hey!” he shouts, trying to get their attention.

“You’re hurting me!” the boy’s voice is panicked.  

“Hey!” Thomas yells again. This time they seem to hear him, as both men’s heads swivel up and focus on him. “Let them go!”

Both men spring into action, one of them lunging to intercept Thomas as he sprints up and the other—the one holding the boy’s arm—dragging the screaming child towards the car. Duck! Something yells in his mind and Thomas drops on instinct, feeling a fist fly over his head as he does so.

He can feel his heart pounding in his chest now for an entirely different reason. He tries to kick out blindly against the man directly in front of him, taking up his field of vision. The boy’s screaming sounds distant now to Thomas, but he can also hear the woman shouting something too. At him? At the boy? At these two men? Thomas doesn’t know.

Thomas feels a foot connect hard in his stomach and coughs, gritting his teeth. “He’s just a kid—” Thomas tries to implore, but cuts himself off as he narrowly dodges something flying towards his jaw.

He blows out a hard breath. He blinks quickly, his senses flooding with a suddenly alarming clarity. The woman is trying to beat the man dragging the boy away, the boy still thrashing to get his arm free. It’s all Thomas has time to process before the first man growls in the back of his throat and charges Thomas.

He’s moving… slower than Thomas would have expected. He dives out of the way, kicking a leg out to trip him as the man stumbles past him. He trips face first into the pavement. Thomas doesn’t wait to see if he gets up. He can still hear the yelling distantly through the blood rushing in his ears.

Thomas watches the man a few yards away deliver a sharp elbow to the woman’s face. Thomas rushes up behind her, catching her from behind as she stumbles back. Thomas gently nudges her forward to help her regain her balance.

“You okay?” he asks, panting.

The woman is holding her nose, blood seeping through her fingers. She turns angry, desperate green eyes onto Thomas and shakes her head. “He’s taking my baby! I think he’s taking him to John and--” she pales even further.

“John?” Thomas asks, confused. The woman’s explanation is cut off by the slamming of a car door. Thomas looks over in time to see the boy clamoring over to the window, slamming his small fists against it as he screams his head off. He looks scared. He’s screaming for his mom.

Thomas reacts.

He reaches the car at the same time the man dives into the driver’s seat and slams it into drive. Tires scream against the pavement, the smell of burnt rubber stings Thomas’s nostrils. He lunges for the rear passenger side door handle just as the car peels forward. But his hand makes contact. And it’s all Thomas really needs.

He yelps as his hand sticks to the car door and he gets pulled along towards the parking lot exit, his feet sliding and scraping against the pavement. Thomas grits his teeth and does his best to kick himself up onto the car. He manages to get one foot up on the trunk of the car, and with another try, he gets the other leg up too.

He releases a fast breath. He glances down long enough to see the road burn had scraped a hold down the side of his jeans he’d been wearing, but he doesn’t feel any pain from it. He has bigger things to worry about right now anyway.

Thomas has one hand still on the back door of the sedan, kneeling on the trunk of the car. The little boy in the back seat is turned around and stares at him through the rear windshield with wide, awed eyes. Thomas tries to flash him a quick reassuring smile before he realizes that his scarf is still covering half of his face.

The wind as the car speeds out of the parking lot whips at the strands of Thomas’s hair peeking out from under the gray hoodie. Thomas pulls his hand off the door, a flash of gratefulness flooding him when he’s able to do so instead of staying stuck. He stays low to the car as he shifts to steady his balance on the trunk, leaned up against the rear windshield.

Thomas locks eyes with the driver through the rearview mirror seconds before the car swerves, fishtailing out of the parking lot. Thomas feels the shift and braces against it. His feet on the car and his hands against the back windshield keeps him from sliding off the car.

Thomas sees the flash of surprise quickly overcome by frustration as the driver accelerates down the road away from the building. Thomas’s eyes start to water against the sting of the wind. He blinks to clear them.

The boy is still staring at him. His screaming has stopped. Get him out, get him out, get him out. It’s the only thing Thomas can think about right now. If he could get him out while the driver is occupied, even better.

Thomas locks gazes with the young boy, then looks pointedly towards the door on the left. The boy frowns in confusion for a second, following Thomas’s gaze, before his eyes widen in understanding. He nods quickly, scrambling over to the door.

Thomas’s heart is in his throat, choking his air a bit. He stays low to the car and shifts over slightly. The car swerves dangerously again but Thomas stays latched onto it. He sees the driver slam an angry hand against the wheel.

He gets a hand free at the same time he sees the boy pull the lock on the door Thomas had pointed him to. The driver shouts something Thomas can’t make out. The boy kicks the door open and scrambles out.

Thomas lunges to catch him as he tumbles out the door, his knees sticking to the car as he throws himself over to catch the kid. He wraps his free arm around the boy’s midsection, barely managing to keep him from faceplanting into the pavement whizzing underneath them.

“I got ya,” Thomas grunts. He feels the car lurch as the driver slams on the breaks. Tires scream against the pavement again. Thomas hoists the kid up—he really weighs almost nothing—and presses low to the car as the young boy scrambles to climb into his back. “Don’t let go!” Thomas urges him.

“Okay!” the boy yells in his ear. Thomas coughs slightly as the boy’s grip around his neck tightens.

God, please don’t stick, Thomas thinks as the car surges to a stop in the middle of the road. He pushes up and jumps off the car. The brief moment of sheer relief that floods him when Thomas doesn’t stick to the vehicle is short lived as he trips when his feet hit the pavement. The boy on his back is surprisingly light to Thomas, but it’s still enough weight to throw off his balance a bit.

Thomas hears the sound of the car door opening and he swivels to face the car as the driver climbs out. Thomas holds out an arm as he hears the boy gasp, tighten his grip, and press his face into Thomas’s neck.

“Whoa,” Thomas says to the driver, facing him to place himself between the driver and the little boy. Thomas starts backing up out of the main road towards the sidewalk. “He’s just a kid, man.” He risks a brief moment to glance around. The road is a two lane main street, with local shops and businesses lining both sides. Cars from both directions have come to a full stop. Patrons and shop owners have started to file out onto the sidewalks, staring at the altercation.

Shit, Thomas thinks, and he tugs the scarf a little further up his face. Several people have started—or were already—filming and taking pictures with their phone. In some ways, Thomas knows it’s a good thing. Because the driver has noticed too, and he hasn’t moved any closer to them.

The driver seems to follow Thomas’s gaze around to the increasingly thickening crowd around them and pales. He shoots a sharp glare at Thomas. Thomas instinctively wraps an arm back around towards the kid to protect him before the man ducks back into the driver’s seat. He tears down the road.

Thomas watches the car for a moment as it races around a right turn and disappears. He can hear people murmuring, and he hopes that at least one of them caught the license plate. He had forgotten to check.

“Is he gone?” the boy asks in a small voice, pulling Thomas out of his thoughts. Thomas drops a little so the boy’s sneakers are firmly on the ground before he gently pries his small hands off from around his neck.

Thomas turns to him and gives him a small smile—seconds before he remembers half of his face is still hidden from the scarf. “Yeah,” Thomas tells him. “He’s gone. You okay?”

The boy nods, but Thomas can see him rubbing his arm—the same one that had been grabbed in the parking lot—and bruises already peeking out from under the sleeve of his green Ninja Turtles shirt. Thomas’s stomach rolls a little, but he tries to distract the boy from it.

“What’s your name?”

“It’s, um.” The boy rubs at his eyes under his glasses, knocking them slightly askew on his nose. “Um. Mommy calls me Mikey because. Um.” He looks down at his shirt and points to the turtle with the orange eye mask.

Thomas smiles again. “Is Michaelangelo your favorite?”

The boy’s eyes light up a little—Thomas can still see tears in the corner of them—behind his glasses. “Yeah! He’s the best.” He peers a little closer at Thomas. “Do you have a favorite Ninja Turtle?” He glances at Thomas’s sweatshirt before he can answer and tilts his head a little. “Oh. You have a spider on your shirt. Do you like spiders more than turtles?”

Taken aback, Thomas glances down. Sure enough, there’s a small white spider on the left side of his hoodie. It was part of the branding. Ironic choice of sweatshirt today, Thomas, he thinks wryly to himself.

He’s about to answer when a flash of camera light makes him suddenly very aware that there is still a crowd surrounding them, pressing increasingly closer.

“What’s going on here?” says a booming voice. Thomas’s head jolts up and he sees a police officer breaking through the crowd with the woman from the parking lot.

For a reason he can’t entirely place, Thomas is suddenly overcome with the understanding that he has to get away, and he has to get away now. He knows he should maybe stay and answer questions—Thomas didn’t do anything wrong, and he’d do it all again if given the chance—but he’s suddenly extremely aware that they will ask questions he can’t answer.

I’m sorry, you just… stuck to the car? Thomas can’t explain it to them. And he really doesn’t want the public attention as some sort of freak of nature.

Questions that might be dangerous to him, depending on how they react. After all, dozens of people saw him riding on the back of the car and catch a kid as he fell out the door of a moving vehicle.

“Mom!” the boy shouts when he sees the woman, and he breaks from Thomas and barrels towards her. She’s sobbing as she kneels down on the ground and grabs Mikey in her arms, pressing kisses to his head and checking him over.

The police officer stops to watch them, and Thomas uses the distraction to duck back into the alley a few feet to the left.

He starts running.

…

Hot water rains down against his back as Thomas stands in the shower a few hours later.

He hears his phone buzz on the counter, and he knows it’s probably another text from Joan. Thomas had made his way back to the parking lot, jumped in his car, and drove home. He’d barely remembered to send a text to Joan with a quick, Hey I got really sick all of a sudden and didn’t want to get you sick so I went home. Super sorry. :( before he’d started the car. Maybe would Joan would buy it or maybe they wouldn’t. Thomas feels like he’s running on autopilot. The events of the last fifteen minutes flashed behind his eyes the entire drive home.

Joan had told him not to worry about it, texting him that they’d drop by later to check in and they’d take care of filming what they could. I’ll get Camden to come help. Just focus on getting better, dude. Thomas couldn’t explain why that made his stomach twist.

The steam and heat from the shower is a welcomed reprieve from the biting cold that had seeped into his muscles after the whole incident with the car. Thomas doesn’t know how long he’d been standing under the hot spray but it was also helping with the tightness between his shoulder-blades. He didn’t want to get out. These three walls and curtain made a comfortable safe haven from everything Thomas knew he’d have to confront and deal with and he didn’t feel ready. He didn’t feel ready for any of it.

He’d never liked change. Nobody does, he reminds himself. But he’d even made a YouTube video about how he hated change, and how it hard it could be for him. And Logan had told him once, there’s change you can control, and change you cannot control. And the whole point of the video had been about taking advantage of the change you can control to make the change you cannot control more bearable.

Thomas sighs and shuts off the water. He’d tried that today. He’d tried being normal despite the weird change his body seemed to be going through and it ended up with Thomas intervening on an attempted kidnapping and then running from the police so he wouldn’t have to answer questions.

What was he supposed to do when “normal” may not be an option anymore? When it feels like everything—everything—is going to be changing whether he wants it to or not?

Thomas grabs the folded towel off the counter and dries off, rubbing it through his hair after he pulls on pajamas. It’s late afternoon, but Thomas doesn’t plan to be going anywhere else today.

He flips on the television for background noise as he pads over to the kitchen to preheat the oven. He’d forgotten that the last thing he’d been watching was the news yesterday, and Thomas nearly drops his box of frozen mozzarella sticks  when he sees Mikey’s face on the screen. The headline blow reads LOCAL STRANGER SAVES BOY FROM KIDNAPPING OVER CUSTODY BATTLE.

Thomas freezes as the familiar little blonde-haired boy is speaking into the news anchor’s microphone. “—an’-and he caught me and pulled me up and then he jumped off and didn’t let the bad guy get me. And then he asked me about my name and we talked about Ninja Turtles.”

Despite himself, Thomas smiles a little. The news anchor laughs lightly as the camera zooms out to show both her and Mikey. “Do you have a message for this mystery stranger?”

Mikey seems to think about it for a moment, then grabs the microphone from the news anchor and holds it in both of his hands. “Thanks for saving me, Mr. Spider-Man.”

Thomas can’t help the surprised laugh that bubbles up his chest. Spider-Man? Thomas wonders at the same time he hears the news anchor, her voice barely picked up from the mic that the boy is holding, asks the same question.

Mikey nods. “I call him that because he didn’t tell me his name but he was wearing a spider and I think he likes spiders more than Ninja Turtles but that’s okay because he saved me.”

Thomas feels his chest squeeze with an unexpected affection even as his vision blurs in the corners a little. Thomas wipes at his eyes, surprised a little at the surge of emotion that expands in his chest.

“Well,” the news anchor says with a smile as she takes the mic back, “You heard it here first. Local “Spider-Man” is at least one kid’s hero tonight. Back to you, Bill.”

Mikey’s words echo in Thomas’s mind as the news switches to talking about the weather. He saved me.

[neubauje]

BEGT ch. 18

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 AO3

By the time the Sports Festival wraps up and the last of the ceremonies are complete, the UA faculty are exhausted - both those involved in the event, and spectators alike. The students who had put their best efforts into the spectacle are even more exhausted, of course, at least those who are present to be accounted for. Aizawa does notice Iida's empty desk during their brief debriefing and dismissal from the classroom, slightly worried that the normally responsible student had ducked out without excusing himself or leaving some sort of note. So long as he still showed up for class on Wednesday, Shouta supposes, it wouldn't matter that much. With the students long gone and dispersed to their homes, and the majority of the school faculty released from the last dredges of clean-up duty, All Might meets Eraserhead once again outside the classroom, changed back from his hero costume into his baggy civilian suit, with the duffel bag slung back over his shoulders. "Hey there, all set?" He flashes a weary smile and nods, indicating the empty classroom, as he turns down the hallway with a little jerk of his chin, "Come on, then, Aizawa, let's go get your arms freed, so you can get a couple days of relaxing in too. I'm sure you're itching for a bit of solitude."

The younger teacher nods slowly and turns to fall into step beside All Might as he plods out the main school entrance, leading the way to the hospital only a few blocks away. He sighs deeply as they walk, letting the stress of the crowds and the spotlight roll off his shoulders, replacing it with the cooling night air. "So, what did you think of your first Festival as a teacher?" (more under the cut)

"Hmm?" Toshinori glances down and over at his walking companion, giving a wry little chuckle as he turns back to keep an eye on their route, "It's certainly escalated since my days as a student, that's for sure. I suppose that never really hit home just from watching on TV. I still can barely comprehend the extremes the finalists went to in their fights, especially..." He trails off with a little shudder, jamming his hands into his trouser pockets as his mind's eye flashes back to the sorry state Midoriya's fingers had been in by the end of his last battle.

"Midoriya and Todoroki, yes. About that." Aizawa spares a glance upward at the older teacher, who meets it hesitantly for a moment before they both look away, "He can't continue like this. A hero who damages himself more than his opponent is nothing but a liability out in the field."

"Yeah. I know. Recovery Girl said much the same thing, she made him vow not to come back to her with injuries like that any more." The Symbol of Peace takes his turn to get a lung-full of the fresh air, echoing the sigh with a further slump of his sloped shoulders, and reaching with one hand to tuck his fingers in a tight grip around the strap of the duffel as they walk. "Even with as much progress as he's made in this past year, though, I don't see how he's going to be able to just... stop hurting himself so suddenly. He still has so far to go..." Toshinori falls silent again, as the hospital draws into view.

"Was it like this for you?" The question is soft, muffled, as Aizawa mutters into his scarf, not even facing the older hero as he asks, and only clarifying at the sound of a questioning hum from Yagi. "When you first got the power. Did it hurt you, like it does him?"

"No. It was... so easy, when it settled into place, like I'd been wearing weights my whole life and they were suddenly lifted. It felt good." Toshinori shudders a little, clenching his teeth in a little grimace, "That's why I... have no idea how to help him. I'm almost worried that-" He bites his tongue as the words hitch in his throat, and slows to a pause beneath a street light, finally turning to Aizawa with deep shadows hiding his eyes, "What if the difference between taking in seven's worth, and taking in eight's worth, is the difference between being able to handle it or not? What if the power I added was too much, what if I... broke him?"

Not entirely clear on all the details of what Yagi is trying to get at, but still following along as best he can, Aizawa hesitates as his mind rushes over possible outcomes, and glances over at Toshinori with a sidelong look, "Can you take it back?" Impatient to get in out of the now-chilly evening, he resumes the walk, leaving the other teacher to catch up or be left behind. All Might quickly makes up the distance with his longer strides, hardly noticing at all.

"I... have no idea, it's never been done. It's possible, but probably unwise for us to try. I don't think my body could handle the strain, not anymore. And it would probably rob him of any inherent strength he may have started with, quirkless or not." By now the enthusiastic hero is tapping away idly at his chest, lost in contemplation of the possibility. "But no, I wouldn't want to do that to the boy."

Aizawa shrugs and lets his arms swing back down into the gauze slings still propping them up, "Then it's not an option. All that's left is to keep him moving forward. Or to retire him prematurely." The option is meant to be a joke, but by the time it leaves Eraserhead's lips, it's already begun to twist sourly into a threatening ultimatum. Trying to clear the air, he adds, "We'll see how he does after the internship."

"Yeah." All Might hangs his head guiltily, left only with the hope that some other pro out there will prove to be a more competent teacher than he's managed to be. Within a few moments of silence, Toshinori's thoughts wander the short distance to the matter he'd meant to discuss, looking over as they draw near into the lights of the hospital and through the automatic doors, "Oh, Aizawa! I meant to tell you, I talked to Endeavor, and-"

"Welcome to MGH, Can I help you?" The two heroes look up from their conversation as a harried-looking receptionist greets them, glancing between their approach and the piles of folders, binders, and files she’d continued to sort as they’d walked in. As they draw nearer in the light, however, she seems to get a spark of recognition, and glances up at the small television in the corner of the waiting room, where a re-run of the Sports Festival is looping again, confirming her hunch. “Mr. Aizawa, right? Eraserhead? Recovery Girl told us to expect you soon for cast removal.”

“Yes,” Aizawa nods in resignation and sighs at the ease with which he’s now able to be recognized, already regretting the boost in exposure from the announcer role. Cutting off the receptionist’s next question as her gaze turns to Toshinori, he answers preemptively, “He’s fine, he’s just with me.”

The receptionist smiles absently and directs them through the emergency room waiting area and to a smaller, more secluded waiting room where an even smaller TV loops a later part of the Sports Festival, thankfully on mute. “I talked to Todoroki,” All Might picks up his earlier train of thought thanks to the silent reminder, his eyes listlessly watching the flashy display of ice and fire on the screen, “Endeavor, I mean.” He turns back to Shouta, who suddenly won’t meet his eyes, pointedly glaring through the bandages at the little stack of magazines on a table across the room. “Shouta, he... scared me, the way he talked about his son.” Aizawa finally does look up at these words, his brows furrowed as he turns in slight disbelief to listen while Toshinori continues, “Between that, and the brief conversation I had with young Shotou on the podium... There is something very wrong with that man. I don’t know if he was always like that, or...” The older hero trails off a little as he notices a slight tremble in the shorter man’s frame, but before he can inquire any further, they’re called back by a nurse, and anything Yagi thought he might have seen is instantly wiped away.

The process is pretty straightforward, if a little tedious. Working on first Aizawa’s left arm, then his right, the nurse applies an old-fashioned dremel saw to either side of each cast, instructing Shouta to twist his arms at awkward angles in order to apply the best pressure along the seams being cut into the hardened outer shells. Then, with the application of special pliers and a little force, one by one the casts come free with a satisfying series of thunk sounds as the nurse tosses each half-shell into a nearby bio-waste bin, then starts in on the bandages and padding still remaining. Aizawa recoils a little as this last layer comes away, freeing a pungent scent of concentrated skin cells, like the inside of the strap on an old beloved watch worn every day. Toshinori remains calm as he watches from the chair in the corner, the duffel bag propped on his knees. He’d smelled this and much worse during his long stints in various hospitals, and it doesn’t phase him now. He does perk up a little with interest, though, when he catches a glimpse of Aizawa’s right elbow, “Hey, it’s a little hard to tell under all the layers of peeling... but it looks like you’ve got a miniature version of the same scar that I have. We match!”

Shouta, his eyes slightly manic, glances over to meet Toshinori’s sunny grin, before he turns back to the nurse, “Are we done?” The helpful nurse confirms their discharge, and points down the hallway to a single bathroom across from the check-out desk. Aizawa rushes to it and slams the door locked, leaving Yagi to wait just outside it with the duffel slung back over his shoulders.

The newly-freed teacher spends no less than three minutes scratching the accumulation of every itch he’s suffered over the past two weeks, shedding and flaking the piled-up dead skin and scabs across the linoleum floor, until his arms are bright pink and a little raw, covered in nothing more than the layer of fresh, new skin just generated by Recovery Girl’s last treatment. He spends another few minutes at the sink, letting the cool water flow as high up as he can manage, wedging each arm under the tap until the refreshing rinse reaches his elbows, then vigorously scrubbing them down with the antibacterial soap helpfully supplied by the hospital. Lastly, glancing up in the mirror, he rips the gauze free from his face and shoves it in the trash before emerging, his arms still wet and dripping.

“Ah, there he is! Better?” Yagi beams and steps forward from where he’d been leaned back against the desk, chatting amiably with the administrator there. Drawing near to Aizawa’s side, he continues to chatter, “Sakura here was giving me ideas - what say we go for a celebratory dinner, my treat? You can actually feed yourself now, how’s that sound for putting your new arms to good use?” His good-natured chuckles suddenly cut short as Shouta, who had been staring idly as he stretched and flexed his fingers and wrists, snaps his gaze up at the suggestion, and lunges in to put his arms to good use immediately. Still damp and slightly weakened from two weeks’ atrophy, it’s not the best hug Aizawa’s ever given, but his fingers wedge themselves between the weight of the duffel and Toshinori’s bony frame, pulling the older hero in with as much strength as he can muster; his arms tremble with the force of it, loaded with the weight of a thousand overdue ‘thank you’s he’d never managed to put into words, and one impending ‘goodbye’ he still refuses to acknowledge.

“Yeah,” he mutters against Yagi’s chest, a little breathless laugh escaping his own, “Dinner sounds good.” Toshinori hesitates for a moment, taken aback by the odd show of affection from the usually aloof teacher, but eventually returns the embrace with a fond arm around Aizawa’s shoulders until the younger man pulls away, his face nearly as pink as his arms. Clearing his throat softly, Aizawa takes a moment to pull down the sleeves of his uniform shirt, and to tug his scarf up protectively over his chin, ducking into it a little as he tucks his hands into his pockets and leads the way out. “If you’re buying, then let’s go to that steakhouse we passed on the way here. Looked expensive.”

Chapter 19 - Chapter 20