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cryptfile · 5 months ago

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Ꮺ˖˚₊ leeches, [ logan howlett x vampire!reader au ]

summary — logan howlett lacks of patience (and he can also be a nice little blood-bag while losing his temper). 8k+

warnings — 18+ mdni, fem!reader implied, blood kink (keep in mind you’re a vampire! not twilight but more of a true blood kind?) downright filth im sorry, dead dove do not eat, smoker!reader, endless tension, manhandling, praise kink, kind of porn without plot (LIES CAUSE IT HAS ONE THO??) my boy's into paaaaaain can't help it it's canon, age-gap at first (reader is her 20's but again, vampire), public sex (it just happened), daily reminder to wrap it before you tap it, p in v, choking, filthy mouth, pet names.

side notes — thought this could take place after days of the future past? au cause why nottttt ,,currently on ovulation season so bare with me,,, been a little mia cause i’m surviving aka going through the worst semester of my life at uni? internships are breaking my ass currently so well, here i am just existing, also, english’s not my first language and everyday i’m grateful for it, so any mistakes i’m not sorry in advance lol i’m also too lazy to correct once published,, feel free to send more logan requests since i've basically been a slut for him for a while now (i'm rotting in hell).

He could swear the mansion got ten degrees hotter when you came in.

It’s inevitable. It’s this thing you carry, the way you move — Graceful, elegant, almost compelling as the air fills the room. It’s not public knowledge that you’re not a mutant itself, yet you’re presented like one, like you have healing factors and age painfully slow, but human after all, a subtle lie, one that can harm no one.

It’s safe to say you catch his attention in the most annoying way: How couldn’t you? All you do is this weird seduction he’s appealed to, whether you’re conscious or not it’s just captivating, an invisible force that even when you ignore it is there, there waiting for the perfect moment to flood every time you happen to be in the same room.

Captivating. That’s the word.

The room becomes smaller after, the air grows thicker, and it’s almost like a ticking bomb, the way you wouldn’t even look at his face while he’s noticeable pinning after Jean Grey, the mystery that surrounds you and he cannot seem to resolve no matter how much time he puts into it.

It’s like he's the plague. You don’t really try to exchange more than just a few words, only when it's needed and you cannot avoid him any longer, and he didn’t say anything at first, keeping his distance too cause he don’t see how you’d become friends, cause after all, what he could have in common with a girl that doesn't surpass the twenty years?

But soon he's upset about it, even when he doesn't really say anything out loud, it's a spike he cannot reach under his skin. You seem to become friends with anyone but him, mutant kids in your history lessons, the rest of the team, even the damn mailman when he delivered a package — You'd say hello like it's a long time lover or so, greeting people like they mean the world to you.

He has students now that are asking for a transfer from his class to yours cause it seems you're fun to be around, more like he is, and he fucking hates it.

It's fair to say it's been getting into his mind lately. That thing you do with your hair, twisting it in your index finger on a lock as you speak, the subtle red glow in your eyes he always catches by mistake, not enough fast to stop looking at you, pretending he didn't even see in your direction at first.

Tension. Logan just happens to hate tension.

In fact. He's almost sure your problem is personal, that you might hate him enough to act like he didn't exist at all, enough to avoid him like he was not there.

That's why it's just so weird.

When he finds himself walking down the hallway to the kitchen and he smells this cherry-scented aroma that settles under his nostrils, he changes the direction he's walking to, to instead, follow the path to the person that was silently smoking outside. Hiding. Maybe, a student he'll have to scold like the old man he was turning into.

No smoking in the mansion!

However, as the night is just settling, he doesn't recognize a little mutant, but instead happens to recognize you in the middle of the gardens of the mansion, close to the maze; escaping the comfort of the inside to enjoy a self-rolled cherry tobacco he has smelled before in the air. He's a victim mostly, cause his legs move on it's own as his mouth go dry, approaching you in silence.

"What do you want?" you ask when he's halfway there. And your tone is just cold as ever, not an ounce of feeling as he contemplates your side profile, the way the tobacco sticks out of your parted lips, seated on a bench hidden between bushes and trees — "Is Scott bitching about the smell going into the mansion already?"

No. He's not. But he doesn't have enough reasons to explain exactly why he's outside if you asked, why, all of sudden, he followed the scent of cherry knowing it was you the only one who carried a colts package in the pocket of every single jacket you wore, constantly asking Storm if she could hold on to the bag of filters for you while you rolled in the worst moments.

It's distracting, to say the least.

"Yeah," he quickly says, lying cause in reality he hasn't seen the guy in the whole day, yet it sounds like something he would say. "Do you happen to have another one of those to share?"

You don't talk much, hand reaching his as you offered him from your tobacco without a single word, the same that was placed between your lips and now was on his in what seemed to be something more intimate than what he'd like to admit, the cherry taste filling his lungs as they weirdly enough, shared a cig.

"Aren't you too young to be smoking?"

You laugh, and the sound sends a shiver down his spine cause he has never heard a sound quite like it, nothing that resembles that throaty, raspy sound that came out of your lips in amusement thanks to his words. He, out of all people, has never seen you like that — "And how old you think I am?"

He seems to think about it for a second, carefully picking his next words. Logan knows that women and their age are a tricky thing, you cannot say a number that's too compromising, nor act stupid and say something that's clearly not correct — "Not a day over twenty-two."

The answer pleases you, and he just knows he's wrong, but you don't seem bothered by it, instead, you nod pretending he's right, like he just got the answer right away.

He can see why everyone's switching classes now. Cheeky bastards.

"Twenty-two is not young at all, but i'm twenty-seven though," you say, and he scoffs at the statement, seeking for any change in your heartbeat, any sign of a lie. The strange thing happens when he cannot pick any heart at all, any sign of pulse.

"You are pretty young still," he says, against his age, you’re just starting out living—. "You don't look like you are twenty-seven at all."

"Cause I age slower than the rest," it's a practiced lie. One you know from repeating the same explanation over and over again, the priced answer of why you haven't changed a single bit in the past few years and made you a mutant — "I never looked my age."

Such a fucking liar. He doesn't need any heartbeats to confirm it cause deep down you are a terrible actress, he can see it so clear, how you're calculating every answer, thinking about the correct thing to say, the normal thing to say.

"Is that your thing?" he asks, playing pretend almost as bad as you do. Tilting his head to the side as he questions you — "Age slowly?"

"I have healing powers," you explain as he tossed you the joint once again. "My saliva kinds of help healing wounds. It's pretty boring."

"Boring" Logan repeats. The word itself sounds so damn fun in your lips it's contradicting. "That doesn’t sound really boring."

There's a moment of silence after that. Where you smoke in silence taking in the taste of the cherry, and he is having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that your lips also touched the side of the cigar he was smoking before, the plain lies you've been repeating over and over the last ten minutes.

It's almost infuriating. Makes his blood boil without question, he surely endures your treatment of silence, but being lied to? That's a whole different level.

“How old are you, kid?”

Your brows furrow in response, a clueless face. You are pulling out this show once again Logan don’t buy for a damn second. Something about the scrunch in your nose, the way you dismissed your own powers as if they weren’t enough. He knows it’s all a lie. He knows it even when he doesn’t really know you at all, when it’s the first time you’re truly speaking to him after your arrival to the mansion almost a year ago.

“How old you really are?”

You laugh at the question once again, and he just knows it, knows it when he sees you barely illuminated by the dim light of the moon, the act you always keep up, a web of tangled lies you have to be into— “Told you i'm twenty-seven already, didn't you hear?”

“Is it now?” he asks, amused by the sass, exhaling the smoke of the low-quality tobacco he doesn't understand why you're so invested in when passed it to him—. “Cause you don’t seem very convinced, it really sounds like bullshit to me.”

You're almost offended. By the look you give it's like the worst mistake he could ever make, yet you remain silent, not giving the satisfaction of an honest answer yet. Testing his patience like he did have one to begin with.

"Is that why I can’t hear your heartbeats, darlin'? Cause you age so slowly?”

The nickname scratches a part of your brain, and you hate him for it. The word rolls out of his tongue with an accent, smoking your cherry tobacco cause you happen to be nice.

“You can’t?” you’re good at faking it suddenly, at least, that's what he thinks when your brows furrow in alleged curiosity, stiffening your back, uncomfortable. “How weird.”

“Damn right it is” that's when you realize he knows you are lying. Even when you don’t talk much, even when you act all stiff and bothered when he’s close, he knows that you are fully invested in lying. In whatever twisted little lie you've planned, like it was your real life and not something you made up. “Are you going to tell me truth, then or do I have to find out? Does the professor know that you're lying?”

The smoke lingers in the air.

“How old are you?” he asks once again, demanding an honest answer this time — "Thirty? Thirty-five?"

You find his questions annoying, mostly cause he won't stop until he gets an answer, one that pleases him enough to leave you alone, the other part cause you happen to like the playful banter you two keep going, dangerously much. You don't hate attention it's clear, what you do hate it's the way he seemed to see pass the lie, to demand more even when he has no right to.

He enjoys being the one who's right though, Logan cannot help it. He's pleased to catch that look on your face who says everything but nothing at once, to have you where he wanted, almost at the edge of admitting a truth.

Is it payback because you've been stealing all of the little mutants from his class? He's jealous cause kids like being around you? It does not make much sense, but he is fully invested. Questioning all.

Even when you're outside, it seems like the air grows thicker. And Logan finds himself seeking for your breathing, cause he don't know nothing, nothing about you more than the fact you don't seem to have a heartbeat, or pulse and now, breathing.

“If you really are that eager to know, i'm a hundred and twenty-seven” the words float in the air for a while, and he's sure you're just messing with him, cause there's no way a pretty little face like yours had endured a century. “I've been alive for quite a while.”

He doesn't fully believe it first. Of course he doesn't. Logan's sure you're messing with him also, distracting him about your real age.

“And I supposed this do come from you slow aging powers” He tries to give you a point there, but it's difficult to be serious when you're just playing with him—. "How so?"

To be honest, you do have a little temper yourself, you've learned to stand up for yourself most of the time, so when you happen to notice he's teasing you, that he doesn't really believe you, you adopt this attitude of defense he notices as you shift over the wood you're seated in.

"No, it doesn't" you steal the joint from his hands to have a smoke yourself. "You really aren't as smart as I thought you were, huh?"

Do you happen to have a dead wish? His muscles tense beneath his shirt, and in contrast of his problem, you can hear it all. All the sounds his body makes when he's all bothered just by the beat of his heart, that annoying sound his bones make each time he moves.

"What are you?"

"That's it," the praising goes directly into his chest, the tone you use to tell him he's going in the right direction it feels just so right he forgets why he got mad in the first place—. "That's what you should be asking right there."

It's almost a shame having to admit he would also switch classes. That he would also go through all the paperwork himself without a second thought and that right there, is pathetic, but you're smiling at him as if you're encouraging the man to try harder, to find the answer himself, and fuck — He's old, too old, he's tired, he's in a bad mood as fucking usual, and he happens to dig a drink in the quiet of his own room, but he's pulled by something as equal as devastating as the gravity force, shoot towards you in pure need to have some answers even if he has to make you spit them.

"I find it strange, cause when you don't have a heartbeat, you aren't usually alive" Deep down he's fascinated, hazel eyes glues on your face trying to understand. He feels like he has it in the tip of his tongue waiting to leave his mouth as a catastrophic answer, but he doesn't find the right words.

"That's cause i'm not," you state it like it's something obvious. And just as he knows you're lying, this time, he knows you're telling the truth, blowing the smoke in his direction just to bother him — "Why do you think i'm teaching history after all huh?"

He hasn't seen it all, it seems.

Yeah.

He's losing it after that night.

It’s known that Logan has sleeping problems, but that night specifically he thinks about something else rather than what usually torments him, a truth he also has to keep a secret now that he's learned more about it.

See, Logan doesn't expect you to be really dead. Much less to hear what you are and have been hiding this whole time from the rest of the people in the mansion — He also learns that you feed on blood, that vampires are a common thing in the world and that he shouldn't, at least, be that surprised when he's a mutant in a world full of humans himself.

You are a folklore myth on small villages, stories in Rumania and horror character in films, so you don't blame him when as you spoke, he finally understands why you're so damn attractive, so damn seductive as you explained more about your way of living, some memories you've been keeping to yourself since being a vampire was so damn solitary, memories he listens to cause he knows what it's like, to be misunderstood, to be eternal, to be alone as well.

It makes the two of you grow closer by the next weeks. You now talked during broad daylight about random shit at first, about the war sometimes, about your condition as he refers to when people is around, eaves-dropping on what you two are talking so invested in. Friends.

Simple as that.

And it's safe to admit also that in the course of the next days, Logan Howlett is a fucking mess, and he knows it, but he won't do anything about it.

He won't flirt cause he knows you're a hell of a woman, in every good sense of the word, that he's way too damaged for a vampire even, for all kinds of people out there, and as much as he'd like to say anything, he values your attention, how you switched the attitude of acting like he didn't exist to be a friend, one that you came to share secrets with a cherry aroma glued in their skin.

It gets him insane, to the point he's no longer spending much time with Jean and people start to pick up on it as if he didn't have enough headaches already. He doesn't care. Shit you are not bothered by what people say, and to be honest, he cannot seem to care either.

At first, he's reluctant of keep on talking to you as normal as it is. He's not really invested in religious themes, but he sure admits you're a sin by all meanings, a religious experience of some kind if anyone asked him — He agrees with what he has heard also in the hallways. Innocent conversations of teens and their platonic crush on their teachers. You are pretty hot.

He's so interested in knowing more about you, about the nights you spend in Rumania, when you leave to Canada, the different lives you've lived across the years. He finds himself looking forward to share his stories too, weird enough, cause he's over two centuries himself and he just craves to talk about it with someone who also gets him in a deeper level, that weariness that fills your body when you age so long.

You got the best of immortality, and instead of feeling envious, Logan finds himself attracted to you so much like he's never been in his whole existence. Not at the point it happened with you at least.

By the end of the first month he knows your little treats. You use a lot of sunscreen, and avoid activities outside as much as you possibly can with those classic, tiny black sunglasses that hided you from the rays of the sun, always in the shadow so unapproachable; how you'd usually dismiss food offerings from anyone who's kind enough to even offer you something, and when you haven't fed well during the course of the week, you'd become the most maddening woman he'd ever met.

Maddening.

"What wrong with you, Leech?" Leech. You've been in such a bad mood lately that when he's seating next to you in another random smoking session outside, your fingers twitch, clearly pissed at the nickname after saying multiple times you don't like it.

"I'm not in the mood for plays now."

He can tell from before. When you talked to him that very morning and stared at the collar of his flannel for what it seemed a good, nice minute, he realizes the same moment that you were staring at that pulse point in his neck, where the flesh blood was pumping in his blood flow: You're hungry, as any living creature would be and at your own manner, in constant control as you fight the sense of hunger.

So instead, the mutant ask, like he always does when he’s curious about something that involves you:

"When did you last feed?"

"A couple of weeks ago."

That would explain it. You don't talk much about your meal plan, he knows the professor is in charge of all of that. You've told him about blood bags and hospitals, but he's not really aware of how constant you need to eat, how the blood supplies most of your energy, makes you stronger, gives you vitality, so Logan at first, don't really know what its like to not drink any blood in the course of two weeks.

"What happened with the blood bags from the Hospital?"

The mention of blood out loud seems to triggers you. A groan escaping your lips as you can swear you feel the taste in your mouth — "Don't know. Haven't seen a single one this week, Charles said something about next week, problems in the bank I guess."

You're clearly worked up. It's a new look he hasn't registered before, your hair is tangled in a less-composed look, and there's a slight shake in your hands as if you're going through withdrawal, deprived for what you needed the most.

"And animals?" he questions, trying to find a solution. “Can’t you eat a cat or something?”

"Like shit i'm going to feed from a fucking animal," you're almost immediately grossed out, scrunching your nose at the idea. "I can barely handle being so close to a damn human but animals? I'd rather fucking die this time for real, no waking up."

"That bad huh?" the mutant asks, taking a sip from the beer he sneaked outside, chucking lightly afterwards. "So you're a leech with elegant taste, huh? Of course you are."

"Clean blood is rare," you explain, rolling your eyes. It's inevitable. He knows you hate the nickname so much that he insists to keep on calling you that way just to get a reaction—. "Humans nowadays taste like dirt. They consume drugs among other substances, pills, food supplements, even damn vitamins, don’t get me started about blood diseases cause it gets me in a bad temper. Every single thing affects on your taste, even what you eat. It's all registered there. Clean, good blood is rare to find. Call me elegant, call me picky. It's a damn fact."

"And what about mutant blood?" he questions. And it seems like a mere phrase at first, one with no subtle tones, he’s usually curious about your nature so you don’t pay much attention as he spoke—. “You’re picky about mutants too?”

“No, i’ve never had a mutant before.” The truth is, you hate feeding from people, the act being something so intimate, so damn personal, you refrain yourself. Killing humans, picking a next victim to fed on, is considered now a treat you don't appreciate from your kind, making you steal from hospitals and any kind of blood bank before Charles offered you help. You haven't fed from a mutant, cause you avoided everyone equally, but you don't want to be rude about it. “You all smell different, but i’d be lying. Maybe yes, i’d be picky about it too, feeding is something intimate.”

It's an undeniable admission, and now that he's trying to be in your position, he would also be picky about someone's blood. Logan remains stoic cause he’s suddenly filled by the thought of something else, a glimpse of his own weird creativity he forces himself to push aside, to really suppress now that it's not the time or the moment.

“How do I smell?” It's too late to stop the words from coming out of his mouth when he asks her. And at first, is out of pure curiosity. He has never encountered a vampire in his life until you, let alone had someone talking about the subtle tastes of the blood being undead, so he doesn't want to let the opportunity slip — Of course he wants to know if an over two hundred mutant like himself would be as remotely good as a fresh, clean bag from the hospital.

"You stink like wet dog," he surely deserves it after all the times he’s been calling you a leech — "Like those cigars you tend to smoke, alcohol, and musk. It's similar as wood. That smell you got when you're in a forest and it's not raining but straight pouring."

"Is this a way of telling me i'd taste bad, peach?"

You make a mental note to let him know after you like peach way more than leech.

"If i'd found a human smelling like that, you won't be hearing from me anytime soon" you're just messing with him. A playful banter you enjoy more than ever, the distraction you needed to think in something else rather than the blood bags you craved so deeply — "Hell, i've would just walked the other way."

"So i'm taking you won't be feeding from me anytime soon."

It all takes a dark turn there. You're very aware of the tension the last month now that you talk to him in daily basis, but it’s just mere tension, nothing that ever goes beyond the limit. Logan has never said something to flirt with you despite the million chances he got, and he always remained like a friend, one that you enjoy spending time with now. Cannot be blamed when you're taken aback.

“Cat got your tongue, kiddo?” Man. You're about to whine about the name before you remember he is indeed, older than you are. Vampire or mutant.

"You want me to feed from you?"

He seems so willing when you ask. Even when you teased about his smell calling him a wet dog. He just seems so eager to let you just do it, try a mutant for the first time.

"Yeah," he dismisses it like it's not something so deep — "I doubt Charles is going to let you take a bite since you could clearly kill him, and I'm not sure the others would be pleased with the idea of you sinking your teeth in them, so yes. Me, leech."

Logan Howlett doesn't really smell bad. And you don't know why cause he has all the ingredients to fucking stink, yet, you'd call him interesting. That's what you thought when you find his pulse point again, the vein in his neck you looked earlier in the morning, thinking just as the same you were thinking now.

Of course you would feed from him. Is it a good thing to do? No, in any other circumstances you'd decline. He's your friend.

Now? You’re having a hard time.

"So I'm guessing that you're pleased with the idea, then," Real talk?, you just want to hear him say it. He doesn't talk much usually, but now that he's very vocal about what's on his mind, you have to take advantage of it—. "I'm not sure either. But I do think Storm may be interested too."

He seems content with the response, taking a long sip from his beer before adding — "Please, go and ask her so you're less annoying."

You're almost completely sure he doesn't find you annoying. You also don't care about Storm. And maybe he knows you're not going anywhere, that you're not moving.

"You really want me to bite you?"

"I dunno now, princess" he looks at you pleased now cause he got you where he wanted to, cause he managed to awake all the interest now that you're looking at him "Are you going to pull a Dracula on me?"

"No, i'm not going to suck you dry if that's what you're asking."

Logan chuckles. He's a damn masochist. It's been like that as long as he can remember. It may have to be with his healing powers cause he likes it more than usual, but the idea gets to his head soon enough, all falling so damn fast: Your breathing would be against his neck and he'd take the bite like a damn champ.

"Yeah I can handle you," he says, aroused. "You're not gonna hurt me if you take some blood. I'll be fine and you won't be a pain in the ass."

He acts so gruff about it but you hear the sound of his heartbeat already high enough to wake the entire mansion, his labored breathing since he suggested the idea himself. He digs it, strange enough. Thrives on the idea.

He's a grown man already, and he can take a little leech like yourself.

It's clear you're hungry, cause it doesn't take much for you to accept, nodding like you're defeated, like you just lost the war entirely, cause there's no many options here to take and even if it were, you are now interested in have him more than any other blood bag. In fact. To hell with the hospital.

"Okay."

It's a simple answer, and it sure works with him as you get close to him, the bench you always used to sit now seeming so small as you look around confirming you guys really are alone—. "You won't tell anyone?"

It's something stupid to ask, cause after all that time he has never said anything, keeping your secrets as if they were his own, saving you from weird questions people get sometimes as they didn't know much about you. He's clearly not going to say nothing at all.

"Are you going to stop whining for a second and just eat darlin'? Cause I might change my mind here."

He's feeling overload soon after.

You don’t need a formal invitation to lean closer to his neck.

There's no way to describe it also cause he has never seen something like that, never felt a similar sensation more than when he's fucking, the cold touch of your fingers in his chest, taunting the vein in his neck without a previous warning before leaning in even closer than before—. "Stay still" you demand, face close against his bare skin, only one goal in mind. "Don't move for a minute. Just-"

You cannot finish the sentence, and Logan can experience the sporadic pain of the bite first hand when your teeth finally sink in his neck, piercing the flesh so easily as you let the blood fill your mouth. He grunts at the sharp pain, his face contracting momentarily before it's replaced by a nice wave of pleasure, one that hits him right in the guts as he grabs you by the nape of your neck, pushing you against him, almost demanding you to be closer, to keep on taking what you want, what you've been craving for two weeks.

When did he turned into this perverted sick? Getting off by something so primal as the fact you're feasting on him.

The feeling of your lips and the clear suck you gave when feeding are sending him into a spiral, and to be honest, he didn't expect to be so devastated by you, by the way your fingers stay against his chest to prevent him from moving, pinning the mutant between the wood bench and yourself so he won’t move, won’t do anything unless you want him to,pressing on the wound to draw more blood out.

"You heal so damn fast," you complain, looking at the traces of your bite with an unpleased face as they disappeared on his skin as fast as you created them.

"Then bite me again. I don't care."

You chuckle before leaning once again, and you can feel how the air grows hotter than how it was usually, the shift on his breathing as you bite him again, pressing on the wounds once again just to suck.

And you’re hungry, it’s the whole deal. His taste differs from what you believe at first, a huge change from what humans taste like, from what you’re used to deal with in hospitals. There’s a subtle taste of alcohol yes, but it mixes good with the sweet taste of honey, the weird taste you cannot put into words. It must be a mutant thing for sure cause it’s thicker than usual, a mix of flavors that explode in your tongue.

The headache you suffered from the whole week seems to dissapear as you drink in, feeding the monster you responded to in your stomach, demanding you to make him bleed more, to satisfy yourself until you can’t have any more.

Logan, on the other hand, is really fighting against his very own war.

You’re already close enough, but he just wants you damn closer, as much as he possibly can. It’s clear that well, it hurts slightly, but he has endured much worse, means nothing when it’s the pleasure that comes with it who strikes on his body, the light sucking, the idea you’re full of his blood, that you are not on trouble as you were before thanks to him. All because of him.

He's not used to acts on his impulses, but he does it anyway.

"C'mere" he says in a strangled voice, Logan's having no trouble moving you around, grabbing you by the hips to make you straddle him, keeping you glued to his neck as he doesn't want to disturb you—. "You really are a pretty leech, huh?”

You hum against his skin, pleased at the contact, and when he realizes you’re not complaining about his actions, he let his fingers grip your tights, keeping you against him.

You can hear him making this sound, quite like a moan but not exactly when you’re licking the holes you left in his skin, he does heal fast and don’t need any of your help when you’re done, but you coat his skin with your saliva anyway just to speed up the process, cause you want to do it, looking down to him after to check if he’s pale or nearly dead. You never really know.

And Logan himself is just fine cause his fingers gather the blood under your lip when he takes the sight of you sitting in his lap as the pearly white rays of moonlight makes your skin shine, and he pushes them inside your mouth so you don't waste any drop of what it can be considered food.

"So what's the final verdict?" he asks as his hands are now grabbing your tights, there's something so intimate about the moment, so personal, hot as he presses his fingers against the flesh of your muscles, he understand what you said before—. "Do I taste like utter shit?"

"Well, i’d need another taste to have my final decision" he laughs, and he don't really laugh often so the unexpected sound sends a shiver down your spine now that you’ve heard the sound quite a while now—. "Not much, just a little."

“Have you fill then, peach” He encourages you. “I want you full so you don’t whine the rest of the week.”

You don’t have any heartbeat, but if you did, it would be ragging in your ears at his words. At the warmth he’s spreading like a disease on her body that, despite being dead and cold, you can feel more than ever.

“I like peach,” you admit, this time pressing a soft kiss before directly hurt him—. “Leech is annoying.”

He’s going to say something, tease you about it maybe but he’s interrupted by the nice feeling of what he considers are your fangs tearing his skin apart, familiarity hitting him all sudden as he moans, a rough sound that comes from the deep of his throat, hands coming down to squeeze your ass, making you gasp against his neck when you experience the aching need physically forming in his pants.

“Still,” you say, concentrated on not allowing the wounds to close. But at the lack of complaints on what he's doing, Logan’s hands kept wandering around, making you move against his now clearly stiffed cock—. “Fuck’s sake I said still.”

“Stop being a damn brat. You can eat while I move you,” he grunts annoyed, shoving you against him, the friction of his jeans against the thin fabric of your shorts is enough to keep you quiet: Feeding from a stranger and feeding from a person you’re attracted to are two different things, especially in the position you find yourself in. “You don’t have to do anything. Quit whining about it.”

In response, your fingers press against the wound, not caring if it hurts or if it bothers him, but just enough to get him to bleed more and prevent the cut from closing, lapping at the blood that gathered over his collarbone, staining his white tank before you could even avoid it.

Your fingers grab the fabric just to pull it slightly down so it won't bother you, and the deep sound his chest make when he mocks about your desperation is stuck on your brain for the next couple of minutes, indulging in his taste, shutting up the rest of the world.

A moan comes out of your lips, muffling it against his skin. You're too zoomed out to hear it, but he's on a hell of a ride too, moaning as he demands more. It's been a while since the last time you did something like that, combine the pleasure of something as primal as eating with a mundane activity like sex, so you kind of forgot how good it felt, blaming yourself from depriving from something so needed.

"Do you always get this turned on when someone bites you?"

"No" Logan answers as you finish. He's rock hard beneath you, and he lets you know it when he's controlling the movement of your hips, working you against him at a slow pace—. "See, the woman i'm trying to seduce don't usually bite me, nor make me their main dinner plate."

You whine at the friction.

He looks down to the cause of all his damn problems just to notice his pants being damped with nothing but a physical form of need, soothing the uncomfortable fabric of his blue jeans — "So wet for me already, you’re making a damn mess, do you always get this turned on when feeding?"

Cheeky bastard.

He's using your own words against you, and you cannot be less bothered as you laugh softly, licking your lips only cause you know there's dried blood in them, drowned in his smell, the honey taste that lingered in your mouth.

“No, I don’t.”

At the sight, Logan's hand grabs your jaw in a rough movement, making you look at him before making you kiss him, deepening the contact as fast as you give him the chance. His tongue is soon invading your bucal cavity as he takes control of it, slow, intense and needy, as if he was holding on so much time before giving in to his own desires.

It is something like that.

You don't need to breathe in daily basis, but there's a burning sensation in your chest of wanting, of infinite lust you've been also experiencing by yourself.

The old mutant can taste his own blood in your mouth, a metallic taste as he keeps on kissing you until your lips are pink and puffed. He has thought so much about it that now that he has the opportunity, he devours as if he's a starved man having his first meal in what seems are ages.

"You didn't tell me if I tasted bad."

You think about it for a second.

"I'm afraid you're a rare breed cause it doesn't make any sense" You don't need any help now moving, cause you're rolling your hips on top of him at your own pace, allowing him to use his hands for something else—. “You have all the ingredients to taste like shit, but it's nothing but the contrary, even better than the fucking blood bags.”

“Sounds like your going to make me your meal plan, darlin. I’m here offering you a hand and you just take everything,” — “Such a greedy little vampire.”

He doesn't seem to care though, same as before he's nothing but willing to let you take everything as much as he tries to bark about it. He's more worried about his hands now that they're sliding down your oversized shirt, tracing patterns over your stomach, his touch so hot against your usually cold temperature.

"Logan," you whine,— "Someone can see us out here."

"Now you care about that?" his hazel eyes are a shade darker when he speaks. "After you're nice and full of my blood?"

His hands are big enough to take your whole cunt, allowing his digits to roam over the fabric of your underwear, almost thanking you for using those loosened pajama shorts he has seen before that very night as he just takes the fabric and pull it to the side.

"Nobody is going to see us. It's late and everyone's sleeping, leech" he teases you, and you cannot bring yourself to care about the nickname at the feeling of his hand taunting you from over the fabric—. "If you can bite me here outside, you might as well take my cock here too."

You cannot battle against that. You're deep in whatever spell he puts you into, giving in to the attraction and the tension that now needs to be taken care of. Logan's fingers touch you in nothing but experience, cause he knows how to please after so much time alive, how much pressure he needs to apply to leave you plain dumb, pliable for him.

"D'you think I need to stretch you out before fucking you?" he asks against your neck after leaving a reasonable-sized hickey in the zone, he likes the idea of people finding out about what you've been doing with him the next morning. "Or you're a big girl and can take me all by yourself?"

He'd like to take your time with you. Thoroughly enjoy you as much as he wants to, let everyone know you're his now, that you're shuddering thanks to him only, but he's too needy for that, too deprived of you to take his time.

"I want you to use that pretty mouth of yours and talk to me," he demands, coming up to look at your face while torturing you, his index and middle finger rubbing your clit from over the underwear—. "I'm not properly touching you yet and you're losing it already, peach. C'mon, you can talk to me still."

"I can take you," you say in a strangled voice. "Please Logan, please."

It's the plea of your tone that gets him, the soft begging of an ache he can only soothe, your face while you ask for more, not aware of anything else but him.

"Please what?"

"Please just fuck me already," you ask in frustration—. "I just need you to fill me up for a damn while."

You are starting to love the sound of his laugh. The deep sound he makes when he’s really enjoying something, his voice in damn general.

"Be a good little vampire" He says in a gentle tone. Logan’s trying to be kind even when his touch is so rough. "Unbuckle my pants and take my cock out. My hands are busy now, and you can do it yourself."

He is busy indeed. Toying with your underwear being the only thing that’s keeping him from the direct contact, pushing the fabric against your hole as it works as a barrier, preventing his digits to fuck you as he’d like to. He’s busy keeping you in place, preventing you from downright melt as your hands came up to unbuckle his belt first, the sound of the metal as it moves filling the air for a couple of seconds before you put all your attention in the button of his jeans, the zipper coming down with the force you’re using.

“Yeah baby,” he praises—. “You’re doing so good, keep going.”

When you pull the fabric of his briefs down, he’s already leaking for you, pink head, slightly curved to the side, moaning, erratically how much he needs your hands on him, how you're wet and ready for his cock. You close your fist around him, stroking slowly as your hips lift up enough to position yourself on top of him.

He’s big. Damn fucking right he is, you’d expected it from before cause sometimes you swear you can see his full length in his jeans, but taking him in your hand is a struggle but itself.

“Are you going to take me yourself or do you need my help? I know you can.”

Despite his words, he does help. Grabbing the black fabric of your underwear to finally make it to the side, the tip of his dick pushing against your clit before he's the one to place it in your leaky hole, forcing himself slowly, giving you time to take him in, inch by inch.

“Good girl," he says, head rolling backwards for a brief moment as he experiences the warm sensation of your walls surrounding him, clenching against his cock as he keeps one hand on your hip, helping you as you lower yourself over him. "Let me look at you.”

His fingers grab your jaw, squeezing you as he makes you look back at him, pushing you once again as you holded a loud moan. He's stretching you at his need.

"One more time," he begs. "One more time and you got it, peach. You're almost there."

Jesus fuck. You can feel yourself getting dizzy. You've drank a lot of blood and you're now overwhelmed by this intense pleasure that formed in your lower stomach, gathering there and waiting for the perfect moment to explode—. "Fuck I-"

Logan's pampering you with kisses as a mere distraction, his lips travelling through your neck to your collarbone before you're finally seated on top of him, a muffled moan you need to shut filling the calm of the night.

"Fuck you're tight," he exhales, and he's lost in the sensation, the way your velvety walls welcome him inside. He stays still for a moment, giving you time to adjust, to make you the one who starts moving on top of him.

You can see his veins popping up. All over his chest and coming down to his shoulders and his arms, and god gracious — He smells so fucking good you’re tempted to ask if you can have a bite again.

The moment feels longer than usual, the seconds pass slowly as you stay there. Logan’s hands are just touching your skin from under your oversized t-shirt, taking in the low moans you gave him, the almost perceptible whispers as you get used to him, to his size.

He likes the intimacy of it, the bliss. Man you look so pretty in his lap when the light of the moon is stripping you all to his eyes, even if you’re fully dressed an he’s seated in a damn bench, he cannot enjoy it more, pulling you in for a needy kiss, one that is rougher than the first one and leads you to move inevitably.

His cock pushes past that nice spot inside, and the friction is enough to make you move again, rocking your hips at a slow pace for a few seconds. The sound of your moans is silenced by his demanding kisses, and now that he knows you can handle him, his grip on your hips turn more firm now, squeezing the skin there so he can control your speed, the rythm of your movements now faster than before.

“Shh, don’t whine” what he lacks of vocal usually, he pours it all in just fucking, talking you through it when he feels you’re being too loud—. “Do you want to wake the others? We can’t have them seeing you like this, all fed up and cock-drunk.”

“Let me bite you again,” you ask soon enough. And it takes a lot to do it, cause you’re doing it out of pure greed, cause you can’t have enough.

��Take whatever you want, leech, just don’t make me faint” he jokes, his panted breathing betraying him as he moans, incredibly interested in the idea—. “Want to be conscious when you cum all over my dick.”

Logan’s sure your eyes glisten in a red color as you lean over his neck. And this time is less affectionate, much less gentle as you finally bite him again, teeth piercing the flesh so easily his hips jolts against you in response of the sharp pain your fangs create, the warm sensation of his blood in contrast of your cold touch, tongue-licking all you get from him.

And fuck it feels good.

He shrudders beneath you, shaking his head just slightly at reflex of pain before continue working his way with you, placing his hand between your tights as he lets his fingers rub on your sensitive clit, just enough to make you bite on his neck harder, the lewd sounds of your cunt taking him between holded moans as you suck on his neck.

“That’s it taking me so good,” He praises — “You like that, princess? Like how you’re full of me?”

You hum against his skin. The blood coates your chin as it goes down through his chest, staining his white tank for a couple of seconds before the holes your teeth made finally closes on their own.

It’s pure ecstasy. He can feel it when you clenching around his cock, cheeks red from his blood going now through your system, his vitality, his energy.

You can feel him fucking everywhere. So when you kiss him it’s all teeth, bite and his blood.

The pleasure’s taking control of you now, and Logan’s dizzy from the blood loss, his body covered now in sweat as his words slur together, not threading any coherent thought.

“That’s it,” he says, making you bounce of his cock. “Gonna’ have you in my room then, all spread out f’me.”

His hand wrap around your neck tightly, keeping the direct contact as he chokes you. Shit. You don’t need to say a word. Logan already got you.

“James-” he’s too deep to question why you’re using that name with him. How you facade is crushing down now as you let go.

When your body trembles on top of him he’s already cumming too, the squeeze on his cock sufficent to fuck him up personally, his bruising grip on your hips shoving you as deep as he possibly can as his release hits him like a brick falling from the damn sky.

He lets you work for it, ride each second of your high, milk him dry as a white circle of his own cum mixed with your juices coated the base of his cock, his underwear now slick with your orgasm.

He’s struggling to breathe, to properly say something as you’re finally coming down from your peak, looking at him through half lidded eyes.

“Did you called me James?” he questions, and you’re a damn bad liar, cause he knows imediately you’re hidding something cause of the look on your face—. “Do we know each other? From before.”

You don’t know how to respond at first, at least, cause you cannot lie in a position like that now.

“Well uh. It’s quite a long story here.”

Before you can continue he gets up, making you wrap your legs around his hips before stsrting to walk to the mansion.

“Logan-” you say in a strangled moan yourself, still sensitive as he’s balls-deep inside you.

“It will be less than two minutes, leech” he responds gruffily,— “Need to get you into my room so I can enjoy you the rest of the night, and you can tell me all of it.”

He don’t care if he’s bloody or a damn mess as he squeezes your ass climbing up the stairs, much less if anyone see the two of you in that state.

“I want to hear all the details, Cause I have a weird feeling that this has happened before.”

You cannot find a reasonable excuse to say no as the man’s already reaching the second floor.

Logan’s fucked after that night. When he learned about all that you were before, weirdly connected to you through the decades.

It must be the bite isn’t? Shit. He’s more in sync than ever now that you’ve been feeding from him a lot the last few weeks.

Ah. You fucking leech.

my masterlist

#wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlet smut #logan x reader #logan xmen #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett #jimmy howlett #xmen smut #cryptfile // x-men #minors dni #minors do not interact #james howlett x reader #james howlett x you #logan howlett x vampire!reader #deadpool 3 #xmen days of future past #deadpool and wolverine

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ma1dita · 11 months ago

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solipsism

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader prev -> to catch a thief | next -> forever falling words: 5.1k summary: (post-TLT) drink responsibly… trouble doesn’t; you punch luke in this lol (novelization spoilers? kinda canon-compliant) The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. Luke visits you four times during college, in a timeline opposite to yours (doctor x river song-coded) (lore expansion & explanation here) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader) a/n: i hurt myself with this one. anyways its canon (to me) that we’re roommates now !!!! (post 3/6, edited/betad @hotchfiles )

—

solipsism (the idea that only one’s mind is sure to exist)

You didn’t mean to send a prayer out into the world so strong that it would will an apparition of an Olympian, but burning cookies seems to be your specialty. Arguably, they weren’t the good kind, just the ones you grab in the freezer aisle of Walmart, and still, somehow they set your fire alarm off. Opening a window and waving through the smoke— Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home was standing next to the rickety dining table you bought off Facebook marketplace.

“Holy shit, you scared me!”

There’s mirth in her eyes at your reaction, though for all you know it could be annoyance—it’s not often that an immortal could be badgered enough to reveal themselves for an accident like this one.

“Dionysus was right. You’re too much like him for your own good,” she grins, taking a seat at the table like she’s an old friend. There’s a warmth to her unlike anyone you’ve met before—fire crackling in her eyes and an aura of serenity swaddling the air that you’ve never felt before in your student accomodations.

“I’m sorry I just… with all due respect, what’s going on?”

You go to toss the hot tray of cookies in the trash bin, before hesitating and putting them on your nicest plate. A gentle shove slides them over the table to the goddess, and she takes a crunch out of one happily.

“You were praying,” she states, like its common knowledge, “so strongly, in fact, I thought I’d make a visit to one of my most loyal devotees. Though in this case, you’re the object of his devotion, yes?”

Your hands are clasped across your lap and a familiar feeling spreads through you, then she jerks her hand up and points, “There. You’re doing it again. Y’know, it’s about time you start reciprocating the effort. Hermes’ son prays for you with intention.” You were thinking about Luke before she appeared—and hope glimmered like a tiny open flame. It’s still there, in the slow beating of your heart.

“He’s waging war with the gods. I don’t think he prays to them anymore,” you reason. Luke's offerings to the hearth must have been extinguished by the wrath he’s rained on Camp Half-Blood by now. The perfect storm.

“Not when it comes to you. Mortals never fail to surprise me. But it seems you’re a special case, my sweet. He’s made a home of you.”

To love Luke feels like having to keep a secret and never being able to tell anyone, but Hestia reaches for your hands across the table and looks at you knowingly.

“When I gave up my seat on Olympus for your father it wasn’t a sign of weakness, even if I did it so that others could be happy. I think your soul is a lot like mine in that you’ve given up so much of what you want to protect others. In turn, he’s doing the best he can to protect you; I listen to him every day, sweet girl. You are not weak for loving him still. There are generations of strength in your bones.”

“What else am I supposed to do? I search for him in everyone I meet and I’m not sure I’ll ever find that type of love again.”

These are thoughts you’d never told anyone—not Annabeth, not your father, not even yourself and surely never aloud.

“I hope you never do,” the goddess says, and you know it too.

i. no winter lasts forever (a night out after a drive home from virginia)

Flick. Flick.

“Come on, Hestia. Not you too. Don’t fail me now,” you mumble. The frigid metal of your zippo lighter rubs against your thumbs as you cup it in your hands, shielding the tiny flame that fights the harsh winter wind. Trying to focus as you lean against the brick of the Inferno, you take a deep inhale of smoke to warm your bones. Healing was never supposed to be easy.

Breathe in.

It’s somewhat of a routine you’ve made since getting back from visiting Annie. You’re a regular at this pub now—not even acclimated to the ins and outs of your sleepy college town, and though you don’t know the name of the hall your classes are in, you do know there’s a barstool in the corner of the Inferno with your name on it. There’s something funny about using your father’s gift as a form of fake id, and you wonder if he knows how heavily you indulge in your vices. Five vodka redbulls down the hatch have your knees feeling weak under the alley light until a stranger looms over you like a shadow.

“Those things are gonna kill you one day.”

Breathe out.

“Gods willing,” you laugh, stumbling over your boots and Luke catches you like he was never meant to let you go in the first place. The leather of his jacket is musky and his hair is buzzed.

Either you were wasted or uncaring of who he was (both), you toss him your car keys and climb into the passenger seat. It’s a silent ride to your apartment besides you giving him the directions and Luke wonders how bad he must have hurt you for you to lay out for a stranger and waste away like this. But he’s the farthest thing from a stranger, even in this error in time and you’re still the daughter of the god of wine so after the third time you try to put your key in the lock he helps you because he hopes you’ll let him in.

“Y’know Annie would get a kick out of your haircut. Come inside.”

You’ve always been able to see right through him.

He’s standing in the hallway with his hand around your waist and he’s already broken too many of the titan’s orders by being here, so he scoffs, “You’re not gonna remember this by morning.” But you leave the door open anyway, dragging him by the wrist and your hand still feels the same in his even after all this time. What more is there to resist when there’s not much left of him to lose?

This is the last time, he reminds Kronos, and there are monstrous hands around his brain, but yours are still gently holding his heart. The little part of his soul that hasn’t been eaten away holds on for a bit longer, tethered to your being by the way your hands are tied.

“I can, if you want me to.”

He looks ready for war, and he is— yet you have him following you around the tiny living room almost in a trace as your arms loop around his neck. Luke doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know if you’d want to see him sober, especially when his absence is still fresh for you.

“Baby you look different from the last time we met,” you slur, stepping onto his feet as he takes you for a spin around the coffee table, dancing in the quiet. He’s older than you’ve ever seen him, voice deeper and colder. This is not the boy that ran from you in the forest many months ago. This is a man who’s seen horrors you haven’t lived through yet. You can deduce that he’s the cause of them too.

“So do you. Though still as beautiful as I remember,” he whispers like he’ll get struck for saying it. Your eyes are unfocused as he inspects your face, still soft and young with hope. The titan grips his features now, almost burning through his sense of self—though it’s not tangible he wonders if you could see it.

“I see you all the time. I just… usually have to drink enough to make it feel real. I just miss you.”

He looks pained at your words, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard you. Luke pushes you towards your room, an aura of darkness spreading through him like fire but he relents, pushing past the flames. He’s on borrowed time now, but Luke would gladly waste those minutes tucking you into bed.

Lifting your arms up, he pulls an old shirt of his over your shoulders, and his eyes catch onto the fact that you’re still wearing the dragon scale necklace he made you. Luke digs through your medicine cabinet while you sloppily wash your face and his calloused hands rub serums and moisturizer into your cheeks like how you taught him once upon a time. These are the things he won’t forget. Kronos can take it all away, as long as he gets to keep you. You lean against his chest and shut your eyes, scared that if you open them again he won’t be there.

“You’re not supposed to be here, are you? Are you mine?”

“I’m always going to be yours,” he says with no hesitation, “Four years later, and there is still not one living thing worth losing you,” he says, lips chasing after your fingertips as you trace his jaw. Your eyes flutter in exhaustion, and Luke’s eyes survey your room and he finds traces of you that he’s missed as he rubs your back lovingly like he has all the time in the world.

Your hands cup his face, making him look at you, and he surrenders himself to you as you pull him into a kiss. He’s a ticking time bomb about to detonate in your arms. The warnings that Kronos is beating into his head is nothing compared to the pain of knowing he won’t be with you for much longer. And he kisses you like he could save you from his blaze by doing so, lips and tongue and shattered breath saying I’m here, and this is real. Maybe your worst vice is not being able to wean yourself off the taste of him.

“Tell me what I need to hear. Even if it’s not true…Even if you’re not real,” you say between gasps, and your position on his lap makes him wonder why he’d ever give the world up and burn it down when it’s sitting right here and staring at him with violet eyes.

“It’s always going to be you and me. I’ll love you until the end of my days and then some.”

You laugh in the way that drives him crazy—though he already is, for loving you still. Luke lost all sense of himself when he left camp four years ago. All that remains is you, pushing him so that his back hits the bedspread. He lets you consume what’s left of him, and he’s on fire.

You wake up the next morning with a jolt. It’s still winter, and you’re still alone but despite the chill, you feel warm.

ii. autumn years (with a familiar visitor who finally shows up on time)

Knock, knock.

There’s someone at the door, but your date isn’t supposed to be here for another 10 minutes.

“Babe, someone’s here for you!” your roommate Jo calls out, and you tell her it’s fine to let them in.

The pantyhose clings to the lotion on your thighs and you fix the bracelet on your wrist, stepping out from the bathroom hollering, “You’re early, Kit! Don’t tell me you’re skipping to the good part; I’m a lady i–”

“Who’s Kit?”

Luke’s standing in the doorway of your bedroom and his eyes flit to the reflection of your naked back peeking through the undone zipper of your dress. You look stunning, lips painted red and eyes smoky, but you’re also furious. Too bad he’s always thought you looked extra hot when you’re mad.

“None of your business. As you can see, I don’t exactly have the time for this, Castellan.”

He shrugs, closing the door behind him gently and with the raise of his brow, Luke is leering at you like a teenage boy. Respectfully, of course. The glint of celestial bronze against his hip reminds you who he’s become though.

“I’ll make the time if you say the words, Trouble.”

Sighing, you step forward, but then he does that thing again from the last time you saw him out on sea, twisting the crick in his neck like he has to resist your touch.

“You’re still funny. Some old habits die hard I guess,” you scoff, turning and lifting your hair out of the way so that he can zip you up. He opts to not touch you, sliding the dress closed until it fits against your body. You think you can feel his fingers ghost above your skin, and goosebumps rise where he leaves and his breath is warm on the back of your neck.

“Leave your weapons at the door. I run a tight ship, unlike you.”

Gliding away from him while his hands are still in the air, you turn and sit at the edge of your bed, crossing your legs as you nod at him. Luke picks up the pair of heels next to where he sets the sword against the wall, and like it’s nothing out of the sort, he gets on his knees. You offer a foot to him while he speaks, “I could tell by the taser on your bedside table. You’ve killed monsters before, why a taser?”

There’s freckles on his tanned cheeks and he smells like the sun. You wonder what he’s done to come see you tonight.

“I’ve found out that not all monsters are mythical. When…are you?”

His eyes dart away from yours, securing the buckles on your ankles, and his touch sears through the mesh of your pantyhose.

“A few months ahead.”

There’s an eyelash on his nose, and your finger reaches out to touch it, but he flinches away. Face pulling into a frown, you spit, “You never slow down enough to let me catch up with you, huh?”

You can hear the microwave whirring in the kitchen, your roommate none the wiser of the sound of two hearts breaking. The both of you suddenly realize this is the first time you two have been alone (and the same age) since he left camp. There’s a silent question of if it will ever happen again as he gets up from the floor.

“So you’re seeing other people. Must’ve been easy, h—”

You punch him in the face before he finishes speaking, and all he can do is laugh. You would never let him off so easily.

“Fuck you. What, you think you can just hop in here and act like everything’s okay? What do you want, Castellan? For me to grovel at your feet and beg for you to fix what you broke?”

And you’re right, he supposes. This is the closest to peace that you’ll get in this life you’ve created without him. He won’t be able to take you on nice dinner dates like Kit can, or hold your hand without feeling like fate is going to smite him for existing. You scoff at the lack of his response.

“What happens next?”

Luke watches you chew on your lip, and even if he shouldn’t touch you in fear that you’ll will away his reason for defecting, by the gods does he want to.

“What do you mean?” he mutters. The cord of his necklace is tucked into your dress now that he looks closer.

“If I’m right,” you say (and it’s rare that you’re not), “each version of you that comes to see me knows less, and each time I see you I learn more. You were 23 last time. Why didn’t you see me at 22?” You know he won’t have an answer, but this is the only time you’ll be able to ask the real him. The one that’s yours, just a few steps ahead.

“There’s already been a lot that’s happened since I last saw you.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” you offer him, like he hasn’t already. He can feel the bruise blooming on his cheekbone and he grimaces with what he’s about to say.

“Never intentionally. I’ll try not to.”

It sounds stupid coming out of his mouth and you feel stupid with how empty you feel just watching him. He’s made a home of you, choosing moments in time to visit, but when he inevitably leaves, then what? Luke taught you how to be a home, forgetting you exist until it’s convenient and now there are things about yourself that you can’t unlearn yet don’t know what to do with.

Your roommate knocks on your door asking if you want a shot of vodka before your date starts, and Luke is already walking towards it since he’s overstayed his welcome. He raises his sword to open a portal but you shake your head.

“Go out the way you came,” you swallow, fiddling with the copper pendant around your neck, “and take the purple umbrella in the hall. It’s raining outside.”

When you walk into the kitchen moments later, the front door shuts gently and Jo’s sitting at the table with a mouthful of ramen noodles.

“Is he warming up the car? Your date’s hot as fuck, babe,” she grins, steam coating her glasses.

Knock, knock.

Your phone buzzes and there’s another knock at the door. Kit is 15 minutes late.

iii. auld lang syne (ringing in the new year with an old friend, or more)

Your apartment is filled with friends and acquaintances, but who the fuck cares anyway? There’s 10 minutes to midnight and you’re crossed out of your mind. Holding onto a half-empty bottle of prosecco, your heels clomp over to the window in the living room as you crawl onto the fire escape.

Clack, clack.

The air is chilly as you hug yourself, and you hear someone step out onto the stairs behind you.

“What are you doing out here alone?”

You sigh, not even turning to look at him, “What are you doing here, period?”

He takes the bottle of prosecco out of your hands, making you swivel your head to look at him as he takes a big gulp. He’s younger again, and it makes you laugh at how fucked up your luck must be to never be able to see him when you want. It’s always been on Luke’s terms.

“You’re too young to be drinking that,” you drawl, knees bumping against his when he takes a seat next to you. Long Island is quiet at night, and the lack of city lights is nice when you can see the stars so clearly. Music blares through your JBL speaker in the living room, and the sound of cheers gets louder when The Neighborhood starts playing.

“We used to do worse,” he laughs, but something in it sounds hollow. The breeze picks up and you shiver, taking the bottle back from him and swigging it.

“All these visits…you sure do know how to make a girl feel special. But you never come in the summer.”

He clears his throat, before leaning back on his elbows, “ I haven’t gone a summer without you since we were 14.” This Luke doesn’t know what’s ahead of him yet, but you realize that he’s right. Even now, he keeps up the habit of pissing you off and raising hell on Camp Half-Blood every summer. You notice he’s not wearing his camp beads, and he notices you shiver again in the chill.

Clack, clack.

Your heels rattle the metal of the fire escape as you readjust your position. He takes off his jacket to sling it around your shoulders and neither of you realize you’ve missed the countdown until fireworks burst in the sky above you. The red and blue reflect off the planes of his face, but what stands out to you is the orange of his shirt, and you comprehend now where he just came from.

“I had to see you. I didn’t get to say goodbye when I left,” he says, and you take another sip before handing him the bottle to finish off. The only new years’ kiss you’re getting is through the lips that hold the last remaining drops of prosecco.

You nod, remembering it all too well as you both watch the fireworks in silence. He wasn’t able to watch them properly the last time he was with you, Annie, and Percy just a few hours prior.

iv. spring cleaning (only big days are ahead for the both of you)

It’s quiet in your college apartment this morning.

The moving boxes are half-packed and stacked against the wall of the entryway and the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the French press on your kitchen counter permeates the air. Perhaps the idea of caffeine is the last thing on your mind, hands twitching as they smooth over the black polyester of your graduation regalia. There’s a few hours still before the ceremony, but you’ve never liked being unprepared. Pollux is driving your dad down the Island because despite the war you’ll inevitably be fighting in once you cross the stage and get your degree, D specifically told Zeus that he’d wage another if he was made to miss your big day.

Parting your hair to fit under the ugly graduation cap, the tassel swings in front of your face as you grab a few bobby pins from the side table. A golden medallion of Castor’s smiling face almost whips into your cornea and you stifle a laugh. D said in his Iris message last night that all three of them would cheer so loud you’d be able to hear it from Elysium (and honestly, jokes aside—he probably has a way of making that happen). A staggered breath leaves your lungs, and you’re filled with anticipation, though you’re not sure what for.

Time is a thief and you know that too well by now. After all, you’ve spent the past four years running from the truth of your heritage—dodging monsters between study sessions and grief welcoming you every time you come home. Four years later, and who are you trying to fool? While walking across that stage later you might as well take a bow. After all, your ex-boyfriend is the reason why there’s going to be a war of both blood and ichor, mortal and undying and still, you find yourself in the middle of it. You’ve found yourself fielding questions this last semester like dodging celestial bronze, the questions always a little too close to home and the answers you give are too entertaining to be considered the truth.

So, what are your future plans?

Oh no big deal, just going home and dealing with generations-old family drama. If it drives me crazy enough I might enlist!

Gods.

How do you even articulate that these past few years were those future plans? That you didn’t expect to be alive this long, much less have the comfort of feeling secure enough to dream… It’s been years since you’ve had a good dream to work towards with a boy you once knew holding your hand through it all. But the expensive piece of paper you’ll be receiving later feels fake somehow.

Who does that belong to? Surely not you…surely, someone who dreams without bearing the weight that comes with it. Someone who doesn’t have to look over their shoulder everytime they walk to work in the mornings, who can convince children that monsters aren’t real without having to lie. Psychology was a great field to learn from the mortal side of things—to know the reasons why brain chemistry affects us so deeply instead of just willing it away with the touch of your fingers. You like making people feel better. But who can ever do that for you?

A gust of wind sweeps through your room, the multicolored tassels hanging off your neck swaying from the force and you shut your eyes knowing he’s there again. Citrus and musk, and something that’s just him. He knocks over your hamper, cussing under his breath until his eyes follow your motionless figure in front of the mirror.

“Shit. I can explain, um… I thought you’d still be asleep,” Luke sputters, his converse falling into your laundry pile like quicksand. He bends over, stuffing your pajamas and sweatshirts back into the bin with fidgety hands as his eyes take a quick scan of your room. There are no pictures of you and him on the bedside table. For a moment, he wonders what that means but then his cheeks redden when he picks up a pair of your lacy underwear. He shoves that down too.

“Big day today. You know I can’t sleep when I know something is about to happen,” you smile wistfully, and you keep your eyes shut for longer, because like this, it’s almost like he’s actually there in real time. In a world where things went your way, this would be his apartment too, and his clothes would be scattered around your shared bedroom like how they used to back in cabin 12. You always used to put them on The Chair, as he would call it—but Luke’s known to make a mess of your life regardless of your efforts.

“When isn’t there? Something’s always going on when you’re around, Trouble.”

Click. Scattered memories flicker in your head like images through a view-finder, spinning through your vision as you hear the sound of his laughter, gently tapping away at your heart again. Click. In the ones you pre-selected, he’s draped in sunlight, honey eyes sweet and kind, and his kisses are perpetual instead of an indulgence. Click. He’s always wearing faded orange, worn-out, but most of all well-loved. Click.

You open your eyes and they meet his own in the mirror. Time stops for once, letting you catch your breath.

Right now, he looks just as you like to remember him, as you knew him four years ago. Multicolored camp beads are resting easily against his broad neck instead of weighing him down, and he’s wearing the red converse his dad gave him. He’s too young, and so in love with you that it blinds him, but even then…now, he knows the look on your face and it makes him ask, “It’s not my first time visiting you is it?”

“You’re usually more discreet, the door right behind me wouldn’t have been your first option. But you’ve never failed to surprise me before. Tell me about your day, Luke.”

A hesitant smile crosses his face as he sheathes Backbiter against his hip, adjusting under the weight like he’s not used to it yet, and then he speaks, “We ate strawberries in the fields today, straight off the vine, but I argued that the ones you conjure will always taste sweeter to me. You smushed one against my face and I carried you home. You?”

You nod, turning around to face a ghost of your past, and the both of you meet in the middle only a hairs distance away as you admire each other.

“I graduate today. Annabeth’s driving up with her boyfriend and the rest of my family is coming to celebrate.”

He doesn’t know of Percy yet, of Chris’ insanity, of your brother’s death, and the immense hurt he’s caused everyone. The smile that lights up his face makes you realize he thinks he's still a part of this—with you. And you miss him—even when he’s right here, fuck, you miss all the versions of him that have come to visit, even the ones you don’t know of yet. Tears brim your waterline as you take a deep breath; the last thing you want to do is scare him away.

“This was his promise to me. By showing me something I was sure of—and I always knew you’d graduate and make it big. Wanted to see it for myself, baby,” he grins, tangling his fingers with yours like your strings of fate, and though you know the answer to your next question you still take a chance, just in case.

“If I tell you what’s happened since…you. Would it be too late to change your mind?”

“Trouble, do you want me to? Kronos’ plan is already set in motion. I think…” he swallows, and your vision blurs without your permission as tears start to fall. Through the film over your violet eyes, Luke frowns and pulls your fingertips to his lips, kissing each one. He hasn’t done that in years.

“Did I make a mistake? Do I lose you, in the end?”

“Angelface…” you sniff, leaning your cheek against his hand, “You were so scared of losing me that you didn't even stop to think of what losing you would do to me. I lost you so long ago, Luke. And you’re not mine anymore. I don't think you have been in a long time.” In these heels, your forehead is closer to his lips so he kisses that too, hoping that somehow this time he can will away your pain instead of his. He doesn’t know what to do but hold you until you say something again.

“I’ll tell you something you need to hear. And no matter what you say or think, babe—it’s the truth. Even without all the glory in the world I would still be yours. I still am, even if I can’t bear it.”

Though he’s holding you, it somehow feels like the opposite—a purer version of him in your embrace while he holds the broken pieces of you together with his golden touch. Right now, you look into honey instead of gold. The both of you look at each other in the mirror melded together like kintsugi, something good still shining through the cracks of you two together like this.

The sound of keys jangling in the lock of the front door lifts you from his embrace, and with one look you both know its time for him to go; Luke’s brows furrow as he mutters, “I’m sorry. I’ll fix this, and we’ll be together. I promise.” You nod anyway, hoping at least one of you believe it.

“Go home, Luke. She…I still need you. I’m always gonna.”

He’s already got Backbiter in hand and one foot through time when he looks back at you. Your voice sounds a lot like how it does when you tell him you love him. Luke wonders how long it’s been since you did. Your bedroom door opens with a bang and some laughter.

“Hey troublemaker, you left the dryer on! All your clothes are gonna shrink,” Jo grins, peeking her head through the doorway of your room and she’s looking at you in your graduation gown standing there alone.

“Were you on the phone? Who were you talking to?”

It’s quiet in the apartment again. Your fingernails make indents in your palms, bunching up into fists before you let go. A sad smile crosses your face as you let the settling wind kiss your cheeks, before reality kicks in and everything settles back to how it was before.

“Just someone I used to know.”

—

“And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won’t tell them, and you realize the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be, and you don’t trust him to love you in a way you would enjoy.” -Richard Siken

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?)

1/2 luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko@bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #pjo x reader #made by ma1dita ♥︎#luke castellan imagine #percy series #luke castellan angst #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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cypherscript · 8 months ago

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Linchpin Part 2

"I am not familiar with this group. Batman? Superman," Wonder Woman asks the two with the most hidden knowledge of Man's world.

Hal Jordan just groans into his hands, "Not those buffoons. I used to hear jokes back when I was in the Air Force. They're almost as bad as the area 51 conspiracists. Always claiming our bases were haunted by high level ecto beings. Ghosts aren't even real!"

Batman is listening to something on his earpiece, "Ghosts are real, Lantern. One is a member of the JL Dark "

"When was anyone going to tell me?! Now I look stupid."

Red Robin mouths to batman, 'Now?'

Batman pointedly ignores that and continues, "That knowledge has always been available if you read the reports properly. Regardless, Oracle has provided me with some more information on this organization; a comparatively small G-List government group tasked with hunting down, capturing and experiment on beings of ectoplasmic origins or ghosts to civilians."

T̵̪͗h̵̬̊ē̴̤y̵̪̅ ̸͇͗h̵͙͂ẽ̸̘l̶̎͜d̸̗̃ ̵̼̆o̴̪͐ȕ̷̞r̸͚̚ ̷̗́c̸͚͐i̶̙̔ť̵̟y̷͔̚ ̷̧̒h̴͕͑o̵̼̊s̸̰̈t̷̙͝a̷̯̓ģ̶͊e̴̦͐,̴͔̋ ̸͉̒t̵̩͌ḩ̴̋r̵̜̐e̵̙͝a̷̡͋t̵̜͌e̷͉̕n̸̼̾ě̸̩d̴͎̕ ̸͖̏o̵̱͒ụ̴̑r̴͈̚ ̷̨͂p̴͓̎e̴͍͝o̸̼̍p̶͕̋l̴̛͔ȇ̵̟/

(They held our city hostage, threatened our people.)

Ť̵̹h̷̙̓e̴̯͗ ̵͎̑G̷̣̀r̷͜͠e̴̩̽ą̴̍ẗ̷̪́ ̵̜͌O̵͕̿n̸̲͒e̸̤͝ ̴͇̄t̴͈̋r̴̡̍i̶̩͊é̴͙d̷̞͋ ̶̬͌t̸̮̀ö̸̢́ ̸̯̎f̷͍̽r̸͚̿e̶̬̎e̶̯͠ ̶̡͛t̴͙͗h̴͖̓e̷̥͝i̸̞̎r̶̳͑ ̶̭͐c̷͔̀ì̵͎ẗ̶̙ỷ̴͚

(The Great One tried to free their city.)

B̵͔͆a̷͖̔b̵̧̑y̶͕͒p̴̪͝o̶̰͗p̵̪͛ ̴͒͜s̸̱̊a̴͇̐c̸͍͠r̴̩̃í̸͕ḟ̶̤ǐ̷̘c̴̛̱ȇ̷͙d̵̮͆ ̴͓́h̴̙̓i̵̲͌m̵̗̌s̶̥̓ë̶͜ḻ̴̑f̶̖͝ ̵̥̆j̸̫̆u̷̮̍s̷̖̀ṯ̷̀ ̵̨͑t̴͔͛o̵̦͘ ̴̗͊g̷̠̎e̷̱͗t̶̘́ ̵͔͠t̷͎͆h̸̬̀o̷̟͆s̷̤͝e̸̹̓ ̴̮̈́j̸̛̮ê̶͓r̸̤̈́k̷̮̄s̷͎̽ ̶̨̅o̵̖̊u̴̺͑t̶͍̃ ̶̭̂ö̵̮́f̶̖̕ ̸̺̌A̶̯̋m̸̯̿i̴̲͆ẗ̵̡́y̷͕̓.̸̛̭

(Babypop sacrificed himself just to get those jerks out of Amity.)

T̴̨̉h̸̻́e̶̲̊ỳ̸͕ ̵͚̊r̴̥̔ë̶͈́ṅ̸̫e̸͓͝g̷͔̎e̷̖̕d̴͚͌ ̵̹͒ó̶̤ṉ̵͒ ̷̹̚t̷͔͌h̵̿ͅè̷͜i̴̐͜r̷̪̄ ̵̩̒d̴̛̮ě̴̠a̴̞͛l̸̻̐ ̴̹̿t̴̙̓h̴̯́ó̴͍u̷̠̾g̷̟͝ẖ̵̏ ̸̭̚a̷̤͌n̵͖̎d̷̬̔ ̴̈́ͅA̵̜͗m̵̬̕ȋ̵̠ṯ̸̓y̷̟̓ ̵̺̄P̶̥̉ä̴̫́r̸̪̂k̵͈̑ ̵̥̈́î̸͇s̸͓͂ ̴̡͒n̷̩͛o̵̰͑ ̸̠̚m̵̨̀o̴̭̔r̶̥̔e̵̼̋.̷͙̆

(They regened on their deal though and Amity Park is no more.)

Red Robin takes this new information and inputs it into the Watchtower's computers and pulls up a satellite image of Amity Park, IL and just finds a blackened hole in the ground several miles wide.

Batman's suit groans as his fist clenches before turning away from the table, "Superman with me, Red Robin contact Cyborg. We're bringing this group to justice. No organization should have the ability to wipe an entire city off the face of the earth."

"Right behind you, Batman." Superman quickly takes off after him.

"What about the rest of us," Flash yells at him as he leaves.

"Everyone else should pool their resources together and try to come up with a way to slow down, stop or even reverse the Decay Field. Technology, magic, I don't care even ask your rogues if need be but this needs to be stopped."

______________________________________________

Base Gamma-5, IL

Superman and Batman stare down on an old seemingly unused military base. Superman's eyes shimmering as he looks over the area with his x-ray vision.

"So?"

"Skeleton crew of scientists, minimal guards but there is definitely activity underground."

"Any centralized location?"

"What, hoping for a big open room where all the bad guys can get together and start throwing hands?"

"..."

"Don't look at me like that, I blame Kon and Jon, I don't even know how that phrase became a common thing."

"Hn. I was asking for a central area to reduce any unnecessary structural damage our encounter is likely to cause."

Superman focuses as he resumes looking, freezing in place as a rictus of anger covered his face and he takes off. Explosions of steel and concrete echo through the forest as Superman flies through the base's defenses and high speed. Bruce gives a withering sigh as he fires off a grapple and follows behind Clark.

Shortly after Bruce finds Clark deep into the base, a large metal door ripped off its track and him threatening a scientist. "What is the meaning of this, who is this?!"

"What is this, you mean. It's ectoplasmic scum."

"You better pick your words carefully, that is a dead child in a TANK. I have VERY short patience for people like you."

Batman appears behind him, "I'd listen to him if I were you."

The scientist sneer at the sight of him, "Batman. I see you managed pull yourself out of that ecto-contaminated cesspool you call a city. You still reek of it."

Superman lifts him even higher and shakes him in one hand, "Don't look at him, looks at me and answer my question. WHO. IS. HE."

"P-Phantom. He was an ectoplasmic entity that breached the veil five years ago. He was the strongest power level in decades. The last time something like him was detected was in 1902 in North Carolina. Psychics all over three states surrounding it felt it appear."

"Who killed him?"

"Agent A, just over four years ago. He bagged him in a small town called Amity Park. There's records he had been there for over a year, check them."

"We can't, Amity Park has been a smoking crater for some time."

"What? Did the ghosts do it?"

"You did it, your organization did it," Superman shakes him hard to make his point.

"Superman."

Superman drops the scientist on his ass, "Fine, you deal with him. I'm likely to do something we'll both regret if he stays in my sight. I'm going to go get Phantom's body."

"Why is the Justice League even here?! You should be thanking us for purging this planet of that ectoscum!"

"That is a child."

"It's scum! It just looks like a child, there have been records putting its age at over 2 millennium in Rome where it burned-."

Batman sighs internally before giving a swift jab to one of the scientist's pressure points making him drop like a sack of potatoes. Clark mutters something as he removes the poor boy's body from the vat.

"I don't want to hear it, Kal."

"I didn't say anything, Batman."

"Hn," is all Batman says as he throws the scientist over his shoulder and plugs a USBat into a nearby server and has Oracle let off some of her rage st this organization.

______________________________________________

Flash is staring over batman's shoulder at the body on the gurney, "Is it just me or does he look familiar?"

The boys black and white hair now dry is fluffy over his face, scars litter his form in lightning strike patterns.

Batman gives him a look as he starts scanning the body.

"I mean not like I know the kid, just like I feel like I seen him around somewhere."

"I understand. I also have that feeling but it could simply be the radiation talking."

"Radiation" Flash screams before he zips across the room.

"Low levels, barely over a smoke detector's level."

"You think you're real funny don't you?"

He just raises and eyebrow, "do you have any information on our issue? Have your rogues anything to add?"

"Nah, even the ones from from the future don't know anything. Which is weird if you think about it; how can there be a future if the universe is eating itself?"

"Because time is most likely fluid right now, we're in the middle of the choices that make it set in stone and affect our future."

"Since when do you know about time travel?"

"I have some experience in it, unwanted experience but experience none the less."

"Right... so who is he?"

Batman pulls up a medical record on one of the doctors tablets that soon span into multitudes of windows, "Daniel Fenton. Son of Drs Fenton and Fenton. Saver of the critically endangered purple back gorrilas, Senior at Casper High, suspected meta but proved negative after a lab accident when he was 14. Godson and beneficiary of deceased billionaire Vladimir Masters. Lifetime ban on handling chemistry equipment..."

"Lab accidents? Lifetime ban in chemistry class? Sounds like my kind of kid."

There is a puff of thick sulfury smoke as a british voice speaks out, "Oi Batsy, I heard ya discovered the universe was ending, just came to see if- BLOODY FUCKING HELL. Why is there a dead kid on the table?!"

Batman counts to ten in his head and turns to Constantine, "What have we said about teleporting into the Watchtower?"

"Forget that! What have I said about keeping bloody dead kids out in the open?"

"You haven't."

"I shouldn't have had to, its implied!"

"Hn"

"Wait a second... this kid looks like... no couldn't be. That was ages ago."

"You too" Flash asks him as Constantine ponders on the boys face.

Constantine's face turns sharp, "what do you mean? You think you've met him as well?"

"Yeah but we just can't place it. Who does he look like to you?"

"Reminds me of a protector spirit I made a deal wit a couple decades or so ago. It was tasked to guard a rune for me. Indigenous populace referred to it as the Great One Who Breathes the Cold."

"Oh yeah? A spirit huh," Flash interjects, "What'd he ask for in return, Booberries?"

"An Astrolabe of all things, smartarse."

"He's not a spirit, we can see him so it's not like Boston and he has DNA. We were able to track his medical and public record. I've got what I need, I'm calling a meeting to collaborate ideas on how to fix this."

"Right, Bats, I'll just-"

"Mandatory meeting, Constantine."

"...Right."

__________________________________________

"What about those noxious pits one of your villains constantly uses?"

"We can't use the Lazarus Pits; they don't bring back the dead only the dying."

"Besides," Constantine interrupts, "Body doesn't have an ounce of soul tethered to it."

"What about time travel," Booster asks, "I can just pop back before these MIB wannabes kill the kid. Boom, Problem solved."

"We don't even know what changing that much will do."

"How about a localized time rewind," Raven asks, "If we just rewind him and not everything else."

"Nah, love. Decay field's already in play. The likelihood we rewind him and he doesn't know how to reverse it is to bloody high and we wasted the energy to only fail."

"Lantern, how much time do we have before the wave comes back?"

"The guardian's projected a time frame of two weeks before it returns to the earth."

"Not a lot of time but we've had shorter timeframes to save the universe."

"Hn" Batman turns to the Flash, "If need be we may need you to Flashpoint the event."

ALERT: Intruder in Medbay 1.

"I got it," Flash says before zipping off to the medbay, hoping to graze past the point of the Flashpoint.

"Isn't that the medbay with the body," Wonder Woman asks as Batman gets up to follow after the flash.

"Yes."

Everyone's comms went off with the Flash's voice, "You guys better get down here. I found our intruder but I can't touch him. He's just standing-"

"Flash," Superman puts a finger to his ear. "Flash do you copy?"

__________________________________________________________

Amity Park, IL 4 Years, 4 Months ago

"-Over the body of the kid... Wait where am I?" Flash frantically looking around at what was obviously not medical bay of the Watchtower and instead looks like a back alley of a moderate city frozen in time.

"Amity Park, Wallace," The old man says with a smile in his voice.

"That's not possible. Amity Park was obliterated off the face of the earth."

"Use your process of elimination, Wallace."

Thoughts zip through Wally's head as he comes to the obvious answer, "This is before the city was destroy. Do you know what you're doing?! Time travel causes nothing but problems, after the last flash point I swore I would never do it again!"

"I know more about time travel than you will know in multiple lifetimes. I am known as Clockwork here, I was once the master of time; it was my job to maintain the structure of the timelines even when you 'Flashpointed' a timeline to make sure the right outcome comes to be."

"Then why is the universe ending?!"

"I miscalculated the hatred some of my kind felt towards young Daniel. As such to betray our dimension to those that would sooner purge us. I cannot physically intervene in a past event but you can and for once I give you permission to fix the timeline and save your world. You have two weeks to save Danny Fenton."

"Wait, betrayed? I don't even know how they killed him how do I save him?!"

"You'll figure it out, you always do. By the way you may want to destroy your comm. Time in."

Flash's comm comes to life with his own voice, "I don't know who you think you are-." Flash rips his earpiece faster than could be seen and smashes it into the ground.

"Rightrightright... Right, two weeks to save some kid from bargain bin men in black... How hard can that be?" He spins in place, replacing his costume with his civilian cloths and stepping out of the alley to walk around the city.

___________________________________________________________

Thanks to @phantom-things and @a-lost-time-traveler for the Zalgo text translations. It didn't occur to me that people wouldn't be able to read it even at its lowest setting. I've learned and just parentheses'd the translations. I tried to make the two timeline but I just couldn't get the dead squared idea to flow properly so unfortunately I can only give this one. I'm gonna start working on the part three when I have time tomorrow. sorry if the quality's terrible.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #space ancient danny #the flash #wally west #giw fucked around and found out #ghost king danny

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thebestofoneshots · 5 months ago

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8.2 K Warnings: none Prompt: The Marauders x Vixen parank is finally about to happen.. How will the students react to a school flooded with frogs? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 62: Born to be Wild

Wednesday 12th, 1977 - 08:20 AM

“So? You think she’s too hurt?” you asked as you leaned over the Slytherin table.

“You said she crashed on the floor and rolled a couple of times, yeah?” Solacis asked. He was the one person you knew had a lot of knowledge of owls, so you had gone to him as soon as he appeared at the door.

“Yeah, she was trying to crash onto me, but I got out of the way.”

“And she bit you?”

“But that’s been taken care of,” you said reassuringly. “I’m worried about her, though. She was stunned. I don’t think James used much strength but–”

“But she’s way smaller than a human,” Solacis nodded. Nieve was still asleep, but she stirred as Solacis extended her wing to check on her. His delicate pale hands were softly touching her feathers when Nox and Regulus arrived at the table.

“Hey, Vix,” Nox said. He’d heard Prongs calling you that one day and it had stuck.

Reggie said your name quietly with a nod and sat down beside you. You hadn’t had a proper talk since that day, and something told him that then wouldn’t be a good moment to do it either. “How are you?”

“Good,” you replied with a genuine smile, he could tell. “You?”

He smiled, although it seemed like it was hard for him to do it, “Yeah, that too.”

Nox and Solacis were talking about the owl while you looked at him with a bit of a frown. He cleared his throat and handed you a piece of bread. You knew he was trying to divert the attention from it, he probably couldn’t talk about it there. “I’ll see you later about that homework, yeah?”

“What homework?” Nox asked, clearly worried he’d forgotten his own.

“Reggie’s gonna help me with something,” you excused and then turned to Solacis. “Is she okay?”

“She’ll be all right,” he reassured you. “Mix some Boswelia and Chamomile with her food, and keep an eye on her. She’ll be like new in a few days. I think she just took a bad hit, but she won’t be able to fly for a while. So if you need to take a message somewhere I suggest you use your other owl.”

“Right, will do,” you said with a smile. “Thanks, Sol, I owe you one.”

“You can pay back by not being so savage next time we play quidditch.”

“Oh, no, you’d have to pick something else,” you added with a smirk and a wink.

“Indeed, you have to practise more, Solacis, not get your opponents to go easier on you,” Dorcas said as she sat right in front of them. “Nice to see you, Luv.”

“Same,” you smiled as you stood. “I better get to my table before I’m called a house traitor.”

“I think you should just change your robes to green and join us.”

“I could make room for you in my chambers,” Dorcas offered with a smirk.

“And have to share a common room with Snivellus? No, thank you!” you joked. Dorcas cackled while the others laughed, even if a little more discreetly. Severus, who wasn’t that far off, threw you an angry look, which you noticed out of the corner of your eye. Even Barty was concealing a smile as Evan told Severus something related to their homework. You smiled and picked Nieve from their table carefully. “Thanks again,” you told Solacis with a smile and walked back to your table with the owl in your hands.

“How did it go?” Remus asked.

“Great, I know what plants I should feed her… Mind coming with me to the herbology classroom later?”

“Sure,” he retorted with a smile. “Perhaps after the thing.”

“What thing?” Asked Marlene as she leaned towards you.

“Oh, just a thing,” you retorted, making it sound as casual as possible. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve gotten yourself involved in another Marauder’s prank? Last time we lost James and Sirius in the game, and we’re playing Slytherin again, we’ll need James! Regulus has been practising since you beat him to the snitch.”

“I’d never do such a thing,” you said as you looked at Remus, complicity dancing in both gazes. “Quidditch comes first, pranks come later,” you added resolutely.

“Aye!” James said as he took a bite from his toast. Lily, who was sitting beside him, rolled her eyes and handed him a napkin since he’d gotten crumbs all over his face.

Breakfast came and went without much more eventualities. Peter didn’t wake up in time but you saved some food for him and handed it over when he caught up with you on your way to charms after you went back to your room to leave Nieve in a small heap of pillows.

“Thanks, Vixen,” he said as he took out the sandwich from its napkin. “And it’s roast beef with brown sauce!” He said after he gave it a bite. “Brilliant!”

“No problem,” you said with a simple shrug.

By the time you arrived at your classroom, the five of you were beaming with the excitement of the imminent prank. Peter had gobbled the last half of his sandwich just before walking inside the classroom.

“That can’t be good for your health mate,” James said with a frown as he pointed at Peter.

The latter cleared his throat before retorting “Shut up, Prongs!”

“Just looking out for you,” James said as he raised his hands in surrender. “I think you’re going back to nervous eating. You know your mum told me that–”

“James!” he complained now, motioning to the fact that there were plenty of people around. James didn’t know why it was such an issue for Peter to talk about it but didn’t press further. Peter, on the other hand, hated the idea of talking about his food issues in front of people, especially in front of Sirius and Remus who seemed to be so fit without putting any effort into it –according to him. Sirius literally did quidditch every morning with you and James. And while Remus didn’t do anything special, he did do a freaking intense amount of exercise whenever he was a wolf, not to mention he often took walks around the school when he wanted to be alone.

“Sorry, sorry,” James retorted. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Peter tried not to roll his eyes as he rushed inside the classroom.

Professor Flitwick was already inside the classroom, standing at his little podium like he often would during classes, you smiled and nodded his way as you walked inside along with the boys. As you were walking to sit next to Remus (as you usually did on Charms), Lily pulled you from her spot near the front and had you sit beside her.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she told you as you fell onto the chair. Remus threw you a questioning look and you shrugged in response. When Sirius realised Remus wouldn’t be sitting with you, he went straight to take your normal spot and sent you a daring sort of gaze, as if to show off the fact that he was sitting next to Rem instead of you.

“Are you even listening to me?” Lily asked as she shook you by the shoulder.

“Yes, sorry,” you replied as you turned to her, “you said we had to hand in an essay today but you totally forgot about it.”

“And you forgot it too, you dumbass, I’ve checked your notes,” she said as she pointed at the pile of papers you had now left on the table, including a few scrolls and a notebook, the essay was nowhere in sight.

“I didn’t forget,” you said with a smile.

“Well it’s not here either,” she said as she moved your papers around again.

“No, I just didn’t do it.”

“You what?” she asked in shock. You had been in study club since the start, and you had always handed in your homework on time. In fact, she thought you were as dedicated as her, if perhaps a little more relaxed.

You smirked. “You really shouldn’t worry so much. For one, I’m sure Flitwick would forgive and forget if one of his favourite students forgot to bring their homework. Two, I have the feeling everyone’s gonna forget about the homework in a few minutes.”

“Oh no, the toads,” she whispered, the grip on her wand tightened. “You know, I blame you for forgetting it, I spent all of last night looking up spells in case of an emergency.”

“Oh, that’s so not on me,” you retorted with a smile.

“Welcome, welcome,” Flitwick said, voice slightly louder than it had been previously. “I hope you all had an excellent Christmas break…”

You tried not to think too much of your Christmas break, although there had definitely been some a few –although very few– things that you would have considered excellent from the tumultuous time the past few weeks had been for you.

“… today we’re going to be looking at complex charms combinations. Does anybody know what charm combining consists of?”

Lily and Remus raised their hands. You would have raised yours as well but decided to let either of them answer instead.

“Miss Evans,” Flitwick said as he pointed at her with his wand.

“Combining spells consists of taking the main properties of two or more spells and weaving them together to create a new spell that either does both things or something slightly different.”

“And what’s a good example?”

Lily frowned and licked her lips as she thought of an answer, and then she smiled. “Lumus Solem,” she said. “It combined the brightness of Lumus with the heat and rays of the sun. If done without care it can be extremely dangerous due to radiation.”

Flitwick smiled, seemingly satisfied at her answer. “Precisely–” he started but got interrupted by a boy who raised her hand and spoke before being indicated.

“Can Lumus really be dangerous?” he asked.

“Certain variations of the spell definitely can. A potent enough Lumos could blind you either temporarily or permanently. Lumos Solem, has been used as a torture device in the past as well. Long exposure has been known not only to cause severe dehydration but even grade 3 sunburns–”

Flitwick was interrupted yet again, this time by a girl’s shriek You turned to the source of the scream with the most surprised face you could pull off.

“What’s with this fuss?” he asked in a rather stern tone. Flitwick didn’t get angry very often, but he’d gotten interrupted twice already and he really didn’t appreciate being interrupted.

“Toads, Professor,” replied the same boy from before.

“Excuse me?”

“There are many of them,” added another girl who was moving her feet out of the way. The students in the back had were already getting on their seats.

“Please sit down,” the small professor said as he shook his head in exasperation. From his position, he couldn’t quite see the tsunami of toads that was about to reach him. Besides, he quite liked toads, after all, he was planning to reopen the Frog Choir that had been lost after 1959 when Professor Marcus Bonnknott passed away.

Filius had only heard them play a few times during his first and second years in Hogwarts, and he was very upset when the choir died along with Marcus, who he thought was fascinating. It was in fact, because of said professor that he had gotten himself into music after graduating and before being offered the Charms Teacher position by Dombuldore in the early 70s.

But neither of the students seemed to listen, which obviously exasperated him and forced him to walk down from his podium only to see a small toad jumping his way. He leaned down and picked it up carefully. “Is this little guy the one causing you to leave your seats so hastily?”

“No, Professor,” said Imgoen as she shook her head. “It’s the amount of them.”

By then both you and Lily had gotten over your seats and were currently sitting on the table. What could only be described as a herd of toads was approaching the front of the room. The stone floor of the classroom turned green and brown as the toads jumped around, trying to find some space within the now swampy water running from the end of the classroom.

Lily threw you a look and you just shrugged as you straightened up and looked at the mess you’d created along with the boys.

“Oh Dear, quite a catastrophe, I see,” said Flitwick as he took his wand out and waved it in the air. With a swish and a flick, about a hundred toads were lifted from the ground and started floating above everyone.

“Ugh… that’s gross,” said a Hufflepuff boy as he nudged one of the toads further from his face using his wand.

“Please refrain from touching the animals,” Flitwick said as he threw the boy a stern look.

Another girl had picked a salt shaker from her bag and was diligently throwing it around her.

“What do you think you’re doing, Miss Griffith?”

“Salt will make them squirm, I’m keeping them away from me,” she said urgently as she continued, even if none of the frogs seemed to mind.

“That’s with slugs, you dumbass,” retorted Tom with a cackle. He’d been sitting next to her because after Lily pulled you to sit beside her, the normal sit arrangement had been skewed and his place –next to Beth– had been taken by Marlene.

“Shut up,” the girl said as she continued throwing salt.

Peter was laughing as he stared until a toad got on his feet and he shook it off with a short scream as he also got on top of the table.

James, Sirius and Remus were definitely enjoying the absolute chaos as they all stood at their desks, they didn’t even bother to sit on them and looked riddicolously tall in comparison to Flitwick which just made the whole scene all the more amusing.

“Please, calm down,” Flitwick said, as he managed to lift a few more toads into the air. All of them with their small legs extended and looking as confused as you’d imagine a flying toad would. And then another swamp bomb fell to the floor, the water level increased and tons of toads started appearing. “Goodness,” he said as another bomb fell from the other side of the classroom.

Lily had her wand up in the air as she stared at the toads with a “ready to attack” sort of gaze and you suppressed a smile as some other students were already using protection spells around themselves and keeping them up as the toads walked past the feet of the chairs and table.

“All right, perhaps we should exit the classroom instead,” he said as he tried to lift some of the toads that had just appeared along with the others. “Please form a careful line and–”

It was useless, the moment he said they could leave, most students bolted towards the exit like runaway horses, pushing each other while trying to keep themselves as far away as possible from the toads, which was pretty much impossible, since they were all over the floor, not to mention everyone’s pants and socks were now pretty wet with murky water.

Lily sighed and took out her wand. “Bufonem repelleare,” she said and waved her wand around her shoes, as she placed her feet on the murky water, the toads seemed to form a circle around her, as if avoiding her entirely.

Beth gasped as she pointed at her, “Lily, come and save me!” She said as she pointed at her feet, which got some other students staring quite impressed at her.

“Masterful use of spell combination, Miss Evans,” said Flitwick as he pointed at her and continued to move the toads as far away from the students as it was possible for him to do.

“You’re coming?” Lily asked as she offered you her hand.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got an escape my plan for myself prepared,” you told her with a wink, and as she walked towards Beth you finally got on the table. Your seat was rather close to the windows, and the door was on the other side, which meant you had quite a walk to make before exiting the toadtrap you had created; but you weren’t looking forward to getting your feet wet, let alone your socks, which Lily had taken in as a necessary evil.

You stood on the chair and then on your table, and from there, you jumped to the table in front of it, the students there were already outside of the classroom, and then you jumped towards the table next to it. The boys, upon seeing what you did, were now imitating you. And they were much faster since they had longer legs.

By the time you got to the third row of seats, Remus was standing on the desk right in front of yours and Sirius was right next to it. You raised your eyebrows at the boy in front of you and he smiled, placing one hand behind his back and extending the other towards you, “Allow me, my lady,” he said in the noblest of tones.

You chuckled under your breath as you diverted your gaze to hide the smile you just couldn’t keep away from your lips at this point. He really had read an excessive amount of romance books.

“Kind Sir,” you said as you took his hand, not because you needed his hand to cross to the other side, but because you wanted to hold his hand. It was a simple gesture and helped you stand right next to him.

“Oh Moony, you’ll make me jealous,” Sirius teased. “How come she’s getting preferential treatment?”

It was the smirk on Sirius’ lips that told the both of you that he was just teasing. “It’s all right Puppy, I’ll help you to the other side.” You extended your hand towards him and he used it to jump onto the same table in which the two of you were standing. Now the three of you were stupidly close to each other, not that either of you cared.

There was a short exchange of glances between the three before Moony jumped to the next table and you followed shortly afterwards. But by the time you extended your hand for Sirius, you felt the table tremble underneath you, even if it was just for a second. You looked around, the feet to try and spot if there was something that was causing it, perhaps a toad that got stuck or something of the sort, but there seemed to be nothing happening down there. Sirius took your hand and jumped towards the two of you, but the second he landed next to you one of the legs gave out, and the three of you plummeted to the floor.

While the toads managed to escape being crushed by any of you three, you did not get away without being completely soaked in the swampy water.

You groaned, the water hadn’t done much to cushion the fall, and you and Sirius had been the ones to cushion most of it for Remus.

“Should have come with me,” Lily said as she shook her head and walked towards the door. While you were sore, you still had enough energy to lean your head towards her and pull out your tongue. She shook her head, clearly amused. “Suit yourself.”

You huffed and then let yourself rest back in the water. What does it matter at this point, it’s already soaked, you thought. A toad jumped closer to you and Sirius scared it away before it reached your fave.

“Sorry,” Remus muttered as he tried to get up since he’d fallen on top of both of you but his hand slipped and he ended up falling over the two again.

Sirius groaned and you let out a low “uff!”

“Sorry again,” Remus said hurriedly, trying not to think too much of how nice it felt to be that close to you, given the conditions around. Those being the fact that half of your heads were submerged in murky water and that the frogs now seemed to want to approach you.

“It’s all right, try slower this time,” you told him, offering your hand for some stability, when he finally got up from the floor he realised that most students –and the teacher– had already found a way out of the mess. Once he was up, he helped the both of you stand.

“They left us?” Sirius asked with a gasp. “We fell, and they left us!”

“Vixen stuck her tongue out at Lily,” Remus pointed out. “She would have probably waited.”

“Never mind Evans, It’s Prongs that offends me,” he added with a huff that made you chuckle.

What neither of you knew was that he had made that table fall and that he had left the three of you at your own luck in retaliation for the bomb that he had left in his pocket and that you had knowingly not warned him about. But he also thought the three of you could benefit from some time alone, so he was both, taking his revenge, and playing cupid.

You leaned your arm up towards you, smelled the sleeve of your sweater, and made a slightly disgusted face. “We stink now,” you said as you pulled it as far away from your face as possible. “How about you throw some relashio my way?”

Remus extended his wand towards you but Sirius was quicker and stopped him, “I’ve got a way better idea than that.”

“Sirius we’re not swimming on the black lake, I know you’ve wanted to do that all year, but it’s literally snowing out there, it’s a terrible idea.”

“Not that!” Sirius said as he shoved Remus. “It’s a great idea, I promise,” he added with his signature smirk and stepped forward, taking the lead. “Follow me, pretty things.”

“Did he just–” Remus said as he pointed at Sirius and turned to you.

“Yup,” you said with a nod. “You better get used to it,” you added before nodding your head to the side, inviting him to follow behind Sirius who was already near the door. At least the toads were kind enough to jump out of the way as you walked towards it.

The hall wasn’t much better either, some classrooms were still figuring their way out and their doors were crammed with people trying to leave, the stone was coated in a rather thin layer of water that only got more and more filled by the minute and everyone was trying to find somewhere safe.

“What is going on?” Someone shouted, tone laced with desperation as he had to turn to the side when he spotted another tramp of toads coming from the hallway he intended to take.

While in the world, “all roads lead to Rome” in Hogwarts, “all roads lead to the Great Hall” and you were counting on that to get most students in there, all for the sake of ending the prank with a cherry on top. But some students were already using their brooms and the windows to get out of the buildings and that would ruin the plan.

“Your idea’ll have to wait,” you told Sirius as you stepped forward. Thankfully just the right person was in sight. “Alex!” You said. “Alex Wood!”

The Hufflepuff head boy, who was riding his broom flew towards you, “Yeah?”

“They said we should go to the Great Hall,” you said. “That’s where all the students are going.”

It was luck, and perhaps your good student reputation, that made Alex nod almost instantly. “I’ll spread the word, thanks!” he added and took off, shouting to everyone on his way to walk towards the Great Hall.

You smiled as you saw him leave towards one side of the hall and you turned to the other, “We have to go to the Great Hall!” you shouted towards everyone and none in particular, “spread the word!”

The three of you continued walking towards the new direction and kept telling people they had to go, and since people recognized Remus as a Prefect, it was much easier to get them to follow the direction. By the time you reached the Great Hall, there were already other prefects helping everyone walk inside in a much more ordered manner than when they had left their classrooms. Students were walking towards their seats at the table, and the older students were using Lily’s spell to keep the frogs away from the door as everyone tried to walk inside.

You smiled, looking quite satisfied at the result of your little ruse, and also got in line, but this time Sirius pulled you out of the way. “Follow me, I know a better spot to enjoy the show,” he said with a smile. Remus probably already knew of said spot since he walked next to Sirius as if he too knew the way.

You followed the two of them down a set of stairs –spotting the kitchen entrance– and then a little further inside, where there was a rather large statue of a dragon who moved as if he were breathing. Sirius got up on the small pedestal where the dragon lay and Remus was behind him shortly after, yet again extending his hand for you to follow. You took his hand at once and he pulled you up with ease, not letting go of it even as you were fully there and giving you a reassuring squeeze as Sirius got even closer to the dragon. He crouched and walked inside the crevice left between the tail of the dragon and his head.

This time around you followed right after him and Remus was close behind. The statue wasn’t really designed to be walked behind, or at least it hadn’t been placed to be walked around, and therefore the spot behind it was slightly darker and a bit colder than the rest of the castle, as if the heating spells didn’t quite reach that spot.

Then Sirius walked towards a torch holder and pulled on it, a small passage opened underneath the spot where the dragon lay. You smiled and walked down the set of stairs alongside both boys. It was a small room, perhaps something like a broom closet, or a secret hideout for a treasure, but there was nothing inside other than a window that looked remarkably similar to the ones in the great hall but much smaller.

Sirius approached the window and fumbled with the latch for a few seconds before he managed to flip it open. The bitter cold flew in alongside a few snowflakes and Sirius climbed outside. Remus followed, sitting by the seal, his feet propped to the outside. But just before he jumped he turned to look at you.

You were looking at him from your spot, seeming somewhat hesitant of stepping out. He was about to speak, but Sirius beat him to it, pushing his head under Remus’ arm and leaning it near his ribs with a teasing grin. “You’re not scared, are you, Starshine?”

“Of course not!” you retorted. “ Just waiting for you boys to open up some space.” Sirius laughed while Remus jumped outside, you got on the seal seconds after.

Sirius smirked as he turned to Remus, who was wiping some snow from the back of his pants and shaking his head in disapproval, although he was still smiling. Once the three of you were outside, with the bitter cold making your wet clothes all the more uncomfortable, you figured out exactly where you’d be enjoying the spectacle from.

“You have to be kidding,” you said as you spotted the large windows of the great hall over a few feet of rock. “Is that where you were on the first day of the year?” you asked as you pointed towards some of the windows.

Sirius nodded in return, “Pretty cool, yeah?”

“You’re all deranged!” you retorted with an amused smile and walked through the snow and towards one of the windows. The end of the cliff wasn’t so stiff that it would be easy to fall, but if anyone did fall, then it would be nasty.

“Not more than you, Luv,” retorted Remus who was behind you in seconds.

Sirius had a small, rather proud smirk on his lips as he watched the two of you speed towards the window. “Watch your step, it can be slippery,” he warned.

“Who's the scared one now?” you asked as you turned to him with a teasing smirk, your hair flowing behind you while some bits of snow from the side of the rocks fell over it.

Once you reached the spot under the window you looked up. It was rather tall. At least a few feet above your head. Sure Sirius and Remus could reach the top by extending their hands, but your fingers barely reached the edge. Narutally, you started jumping to try and get your hands on the seal. Remus caught up with you a few seconds later. “Thought you were a fox, not a rabbit.”

You huffed, narrowing his eyes at him and turning back to the rocks. There was snow covering them, and you didn’t have your gloves around. Didn’t matter though, you tried to get a hold of one of the rocky edges to climb your way up, but they were stupidly slippery and you ended up slipping towards Sirius who caught you with ease and looked down on your pouty face with a wide smile.

“Are you done trying to do it by yourself?” he asked. You gave him a mouth twist in return. “Nous sommes une équipe, Starshine, don’t be afraid to ask for help.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and pushed you to stand straight again.

You grumbled something intelligible as Sirius climbed his way up using a rather specific rock that they had charmed and that was slightly worn out as support, and once he was up he extended his hand while Remus linked both of his and extended them for you to use as a step on the way up. You hesitated, turning your gaze to the side before placing your foot between Rem’s hands, who pushed upwards and allowed you to reach Sirius’.

Once your elbows were on the bitter-cold stone of the seal, you managed to push yourself up the rest of the way. Rem used the same rock Sirius had to climb and in between you and Sirius pulled him the rest of the way up. Not that he needed the help, he would have done fine without it, but neither you nor Sirius would waste a chance to hold him close.

“Shouldn’t we use a disillusionment charm?” you asked as you leaned over the windows to see what was inside. “Shit it’s cold,” you added as you shivered. You’d taken your cloak off at the little room under the dragon but your pants and thick sweater were still pretty wet.

“Nah, they can’t see us,” Sirius said as Remus stood closer to you. He was the least wet of the three, coincidentally, his body heat was always warmer due to his furry little problem. “There are special charms on the windows so that the weather outside matches the one in the enchanted ceiling,” he waved through the window, “we’re virtually invisible.”

“Neat,” you said as you leaned your head on the window again, most students were now taking their seats. Professor McGonagall was helping some of the students accommodate their tables. Spellman was making sure all the Ravenclaws were all right alongside Flitwick who had been a Ravenclaw when he was a student, and Seraphina was making the Hufflepuffs do the same while forcing them into a neat line and counting through them.

“Where’s Dumbledore?” you asked with a frown.

“He is overseeing some plans with the order,” Sirius said. “Moody visited the Potters when we were about to leave for Kingscross. He said there was some urgent ‘Order’ business they had to oversee.”

“Order? Do you mean The Order of the Phoenix?”

“The what?”

“Ugh… never mind I’ll tell you about it later,” you said as you shrugged it off and pointed towards the Great Hall. Slughorn had walked towards the podium and seemed about ready to say something. “I think it’s about to happen,” you said.

Remus looked at you with a frown, still wondering what that was about before he too turned to look at the window. Slughorn seemed to be calming the students down, by giving some sort of speech. And then a screech so loud, that even the three of you heard, broke through his words.

“Oh, it is happening,” Sirius said, as he too stepped a little closer. Both boys were now practically glued to you and the window, which was at least helping the cold subdue, even if you still felt like the bottom of your clothes, where gravity had accumulated the water, was slowly freezing as well. Not to mention your back felt a little more cold than it should have. But then again, what was a little cold? You’d had much, much worse.

The girl jumped backwards as she screamed and fell on the floor as a bunch of toads started appearing from under her table. You saw Lily’s mane look around and fixate her gaze on James, she was clearly expecting the classroom and the rest of the hallway mess to be the end of it.

You chuckled as the toads from her table avoided her and jumped in all sorts of directions and towards the rest of the people. The funniest part was, that the toads were also shunning the entrance because they had used the toad-repelling charm all over it, so the more swamp bombs that exploded, the more frogs without anywhere else to go appeared.

McGonagall pressed her wand to her throat before speaking, loud, clear and in that same tone she used in class that was equally unwinding and terrifying. “Prefects, have your houses form a neat line and walk towards the courtyard. I believe it’s the only spot in the entire school not infested by toads at the present moment.”

You chuckled, and it wasn’t only after your laughter subdued that you noticed that were not only shivering because of the laughs, but also because of the cold. You sneezed.

“Bless you,” Said Remus almost automatically, and then pressed his hands to your face. “You’re freezing! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I said it was cold!” you argued with a shrug and then crossed your arms over yourself.

“But you said it as a casual comment, not as ‘I’m freezing, let’s use a warming spell’ kind of way,” Sirius retorted.

You hummed in response. “Next time, I’ll make sure to sound extra dramatic when complaining about the cold,” you said sarcastically.

“Yeah, you better,” Sirius said as he jumped down from the little window bannister and nodded for you to do the same.

It was slightly awkward as you got down, but Sirius was there as you landed and he gave you a thumbs up as you wiped some of the snow that had gotten stuck in front of your trousers. Remus was down shortly after and the three of you walked inside the little room.

Sirius closed the window as soon as you were inside while Remus started with a simple warming spell. He leaned close to you, his wand slowly spreading heat on your back, causing the already-frozen bits of clothes to melt.

“Wait, it’s too hot,” you said, taking your sweater off almost in a second. You had a simple turtle neck shirt underneath, and while it wasn’t freezing anymore, it was still pretty wet.

“I mean you can continue taking your clothes off here, or we can go to that place I’ve been telling you about,” Sirius said with a smirk and both of you turned to him with a frown.

“Where exactly do you want us to go?” Remus asked.

“You’ll see when I take you,” he retorted as he tilted his head. “I think by now most students will be in the courtyard, what do you say?”

Remus swallowed, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“All my ideas are great,” he retorted, “Right, Starshine?”

“Some have certainly been,” you retorted. “Besides at this point, anything that gets me off this stinkyness is good.”

Sirius’ smile widened and he gave you a wink before climbing up the stairs and both you and Remus followed closely behind him.

It had been a few minutes of you scurrying around the castle while trying to avoid being seen by any lost student, and the toads that were now all over the halls, jumping around freely.

Remus, who finally recognized the way you were taking gasped, “Sirius are we going to the–”

“Yes, don’t spoil it.”

Sirius had purposefully taken a tricky way there so neither of you realized where it was you were heading but Remus had figured it out anyway. You had a vague idea of where that might be but you weren’t sure, and you had never been there either, so even if it was where you thought it would be it was still a surprise.

You looked over a corner you were about to cross and instantly pulled back, grabbing onto Sirius’ shirt to stop him from stepping any further. You placed your hand over your lips and nodded. He looked at you with a frown, and you pointed at the corner.

Sr. Pendragon’s ghost was there, up in his horse and patrolling like the hallway was his own, even when his horse seemed to be much more entertained by the toads. He was comically jumping around while trying to avoid them (it didn’t seem to matter that being a ghost, he couldn’t touch them).

Sirius nodded as soon as he spotted him and took out his wand, but Moony beat the both of you by sending a spell towards one of the portraits on the other side of the hallway. The old man in the portrait started shouting silly complaints and screaming something about the toads attacking him.

“To the rescue!” Said Sir. Pendragon as he pulled on his horse’s reins to force him to move. Said horse was not cooperating, and it was while he was distracted by them that you cast a disillusionment charm over the three of you and continued to follow Sirius through the halls.

Skipping through the toads was much harder with the disillusionment charm because they wouldn’t immediately jump out of the way as they spotted you, but it wasn’t impossible. They seemed to have a sort of sixth sense to not be squashed, even if it took a little longer for it to kick off than sight.

It was when you spotted the large frog in the corner of Ricchie’s “make-out room” that you figured out where Sirius was taking you as well. “How are you planning to get in?” You whispered as you pointed towards the door.

“Easy, we have our own Perfect, he knows the passwords,” Sirius said with a smirk.

Remus tried not to roll his eyes as the three of you approached the doors, he cleared his throat before leaning into one of the corners of the door. “Whispering Woods,” he said, low so nobody beside you would hear, and the doors split open right in front of the three of you.

You didn’t waste time before walking inside, since you didn’t want to risk anyone noticing the three of you were sneaking into the “only prefects” bathroom, even with the disillusionment charm. You were still looking at the hall as you rushed to the door to shut right ahead of you. Some magic doors were faster if you gave them a little push, which was always a good trick when you were sneaking around.

Once you made sure they were shut you sighed and turned around, only to gasp in shock. It’s not that you hadn’t heard about the Prefect’s Bathroom being grand and elegant, but you were expecting spacious shower stands and perhaps even a nice toilet, not a bathtub the size of a pool.

“I know, right?” Sirius said with a smile and started walking towards the tub, flicking his wand to dissolve the disillusionment charm and opening the faucet in the side. Colourful water started streaming out of the centre, filling the pool with bubbly water. A stained glass mermaid was combing her hair just behind the tub, and she had a sort of mischievous smile going on as she spotted Sirius.

“I’m going to start thinking you have a water kink or something,” you joked as you followed him, your eyes getting lost on the mermaid before turning back to him. She didn’t look exactly like the mermaids at Lupin’s Cottage, which made you think she probably was from a different species.

Her nose was slightly longer, and she was looking at the three of you in a sweet, and yet sort of like ‘I’d want to eat you’ glance.

“Don’t worry about her, she can’t even talk,” Remus when he noticed your staring.

“Yeah?” you asked with a frown. “Why?”

“Mermaid portraits can be very temperamental, that’s why wizards rarely use the special brushes that make them talk,” Sirius explained as he threw a wink her way. You’d swear she blushed after that.

“Did you ever read ‘Siren’?” Remus asked, and you shook your head in response. “It’s about an artist that really wanted to paint a mermaid,” he explained. “And he did it, exceptionally well, so well that the portrait even had some of those enchanting abilities mermaids have. He talked to her every single day, she convinced him to put her in the bathroom since she would feel closer to home, and he would see her every single time he bathed.”

“Yeah?” Sirius asked with a smile as he continued to play with the faucets. Now there was a small fish statue blowing soap bubbles all over the place. “Sounds awkward…”

“It was,” Remus confirmed. “But she was clever and knew how to make him feel at ease. More time passed and they grew used to each other, until that wasn’t enough for her either, she ended up convincing him to drown in his tub so he could be with her.”

“Damn,” you said as you looked back up at the mermaid. She was still giving you that same curious look. “I can definitely see it happening, though…”

“A man falling for the portrait of a beautiful mermaid?” Sirius asked, clearly amused.

“A portrait being more powerful than they originally thought,” you said, not keeping your eyes away from the stained glass window. “Enchanted items can be as delightful as deceitful. There are plenty of stories of wizards who’ve gone mad over a portrait.”

“I think the water is ready,” Sirius said as he dipped his hand in the marbled pool.

“Yeah?” You asked as you leaned closer to it, leaning over and also digging your hand in the water.

“Mhm,” he nodded and then turned to Remus with a sort of mischievous look in his eyes. The way they shone told Remus enough about his plan for him to know what a terrific idea it was. “Pourquoi ne l’essaies-tu pas, Étoile?”

You didn’t even have enough time to turn around and ask what he was going on about when he picked you up from the floor and threw you into the water, the splashing from your fall was enough to leave the two of them wet and filled with bubbles.

By the time you resurfaced –not that it was very deep– both boys were shaking with laughter, their voices echoing through the bathroom in such a compelling way that you couldn’t even stay mad at them for it. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t retaliate. You looked at them both with a sort of saddened pout that had Remus lose his laughter as fast as he’d found it.

“I think I sprained my hand as I fell,” you said as you took your hand out of the water, “It’s swelling and all…”

“What? That fast?” Remus said as he approached you.

Sirius seemed concerned at first, at least until he saw the faintest shadow of a smirk as Remus approached the edge of the tub. You threw him a look, simple, almost too fast, but he instantly knew what he had to do.

“Perhaps it’s because it’s the hand I sprained at the Leaky Cauldron…” you added and extended it towards him. He was now so close, half of his body was over the water. He had your hand in his, yours was limp and his were careful, feather-like touches to make sure he wouldn’t hurt you further. He moved it to one side and then to the other, carefully.

“Does it hurt?”

“Slightly,” you retorted. It wasn’t a lie, your hand was still kind of sore. Perhaps it had been a worse hit than you thought originally.

Remus shrugged, “It doesn’t look all that swollen to me, Little Witch, but it could get worse. Perhaps we should call it and go to Pomfrey instead–”

“You don’t see it?” You asked nonchalantly and threw a look at Sirius. Remus was about to respond, “Maybe if you look closer,” you added before pulling your other hand out of the water and gripping onto his arms as firmly as you could, pulling him towards you.

Alone, you wouldn’t have done shit to move him unless he had been genuinely distracted, but with Sirius’ help, who threw him off balance with a light kick on the back of his knee and a push, it was as easy as it had been for Sirius to lift you up and throw you into the pool. When Remus resurfaced from the water he was so shocked that he’d been manhandled that he ended up being more confused than anything.

“How the– you didn’t even hurt your hand, did you?”

“It’s still sore, but no,” you said with a shrug and a smile. You then stepped a little closer, you’d never seen Remus’ hair wet, at least not fully wet, only fluffed out of the shower, it was way longer than you assumed, it reached almost all the way to his nose. You swam closer to him in an instant and pushed it off his face. It’s something perhaps you would have done even back when you were just friends –you had always been that close to him– but it was because you weren’t just friends anymore that he felt his heart hammer on his chest as you approached. He could kiss you if he wanted to, would you want it to?

And then you gave him a look. He knew that look so well. You placed both hands on his neck after you stopped playing with his hair and then you raised your eyebrows. He gave you the basic “Are you sure?” Remus Lupin look. You just raised your eyebrows again in return.

“Hey, Pups,” you said casually, “do you mind passing me my wand? I think I dropped it when you threw me into the water…” That last bit was slightly accusatory, to add up to that guilt and have him lose some of the weariness.

Sirius picked your wand from the floor and squinted his eyes at you as if deciding just how close he could get without getting pulled into the water by his favourite little fae, although you looked more like a tempting siren than a sprite in that particular moment.

“What?” You asked with a simple smile.

“You’re not going to pull me into the water, are you?”

“Of course not, I just need my wand,” you said with a smile, gently squeezing Remus’ wrist from under the water.

“What for?”

“Girl stuff,” you retorted.

“You can’t just say girl stuff whenever you want to avoid my questions.”

“But what if it really is girl stuff?” Remus intervened as he eyed Sirius.

“I won’t throw you into the water, swear,” you added, hands held up in surrender. “Just hand me my wand, you can stay out and watch while Remus and I make out or whatever.”

“What?!” Sirius asked confused, amused, and a little too keen on the idea, which was ridiculous. But damn, didn’t the both of you look stunning when you were kissing each other?

“What?” you said as you approached. “Come on, hand it over,” you said as you opened your mouth for him to place your wand in between your lips. Sirius was hesitant as he approached you, but eventually, he was close enough. And when he did, Remus, who had been casually leaning his back on the side stood up and pulled him into the water as you moved out of the way.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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