#okay hi this is the last prompt fic from that batch from ages ago

[ohmytheon]

Spellbound (1/9)

summary: Detective Uraraka is just trying to do her job and navigate her feelings for one very prickly werewolf, but in a world where myths are real, anything can happen. When she's targeted by the serial killer that she and her elven partner, Midoriya, are trying to stop, it's going to take a bit of magic to save the day.

notes: So this is my entry for Kacchako Bittersweet Week! I'm...honestly not sure where this is going. I've only finished three of the prompts so far and am literally winging it. Whatever the next prompt says takes the story to the next place. There is no plan for this and I'm probably in over my head trying to write a murder-mystery type story inside of a Modern Fantasy setting, but well, such is life. I borrowed the world I created for my sorta Izuocha fic, "The Mythical Kind". Yes, a bit cheap, but I really loved that world and felt like I could explore more of it. More characters, relationships, and tags will be added as I finish the prompts. Like I said, I have no fucking clue where this is gonna end up. Such is life.

DAY 0: AU

No amount of tea could keep her awake, which was near impossible considering all the herbs she had put in that last batch. That stuff should have been able to keep her bouncing off the walls for days, not just a measly forty-eight hours. Was she getting weaker? No, that was her tried and true recipe. She was simply that exhausted after working for almost three days straight. This case really was getting the best of her. Maybe she should’ve taken a break like Deku had suggested.

Uraraka was staring hopelessly at her computer, woeful over the old case files that she had yet to comb through, when a paper bird began to flutter around her desk. At first, she ignored it, used to the old things. Eventually, it would settle down and perch on her desk until she was ready to unfold it and read the note. However, this one had other things in mind. It quickly turned into an origami nightmare and began to actually peck at her hands.

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry, oh impatient one!” Uraraka snatched the bird out of the air between her two hands, which proved to be a mistake when it gave her a papercut on her palm, causing her to wince. It soon calmed down and when she finally opened her hands, the bird slowly unfolded itself into a creased, harmless note.

You’re going to be useless if you keep going like this. Take a damn break!

Uraraka’s eyes almost rolled out of her head. Of course the violent note was from Bakugou. Did he have to charm them to be so vicious if ignored? He probably wanted to get his point across. Looking at the red spots on her hand and the cut on her palm, it had certainly done the trick. She set the note down and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her eyes with a fist. When she stared back at her computer, its dull glow only stared right back at her. The files would still be here when she got back. Besides, she couldn’t do much without her partner here anyways.

Dragging herself out of her chair, Uraraka groaned and pressed her hands to the small of her back as she stretched. How long had she been in that chair? And how had Bakugou known that she was running herself ragged? He could have called her. It wouldn’t have had the same effect as coming to the station and sending her a very aggressive paper bird to attack her into taking a break.

After sweeping her long coat off the back of her chair, she threw it over her shoulders and slipped her arms into the sleeves. She snagged her hat off the side of her desk and plopped it on her head as she walked over to her Captain’s office and knocked on the door. “I’m heading out for the night.”

“Got anymore of that tea?” Aizawa looked about as exhausted as she felt as he set his glasses down and pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe he hadn’t been working as long as her, but he dealt with the higher-ups and the public, which was even worse. Neither had been kind to them recently with this case in the headlines.

Uraraka smiled apologetically. “All out, I’m afraid. I don’t think it was doing much good anyway at this point.”

Aizawa sighed. “I hate when things get political. It’s so exhausting.” He waved a hand at her. “Get some rest. I would rather you be well-rested than hopped up on something.”

“It’s an herbal recipe,” Uraraka reminded him. Before he could make another smart remark, his phone rang and he answered it without hesitation. He was a stronger man than her. Every time the phone at her desk rang, she shrank away from it for a few seconds. If she heard one more tip about how it was aliens, she was going to lose it.

Witches, werewolves, trolls, dragons, orcs, vampires, elves, and more? That was regular life.

Aliens though? Absolutely absurd.

That wasn’t even counting the many calls of people proclaiming it was werewolves. She’d hung up on the last person that had started on a rant.

The ride to the left and down the elevator was quick, but Uraraka still spent half of it slumped against the wall with the side of her head pressed against the cool metal. If it went on any longer, she could probably fall asleep here and wake up about ten hours later wondering where she was. She did have something of a bad habit of falling asleep in places around her apartment that weren’t her bed. Tired as she was, she didn’t even bother lifting her head when the doors opened, despite knowing full well who would be on the other side waiting for her.

“Took you long enough,” Bakugou snarled, arms folded across his chest.

“Aw, you really do care,” Uraraka teased, although she was too sleepy to push it even further.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled as he reached into the elevator to grab her by the arm and pull her out. “Deku sent me a text asking if I could check on you. He must be out of it too because I think he meant to send it to Iida.”

Uraraka paused to blink at him before stepping outside. “And you came anyways?”

“Yeah, apparently you weren’t answering your phone,” Bakugou pointed out. That was surprising since she’d had her phone on her the whole… She fished it out of her pocket and looked down at it. Dead. Well, that answered the question of why Bakugou had sent her a murderous pigeon note. “You need to keep it charged. Shit is real dangerous right now and you’re running around with a dead phone.”

“And a wand,” Uraraka added, flicking her sleeve so that her wand slid into her hand. He scoffed, but didn’t argue the point. He knew that she could take care of herself, but he could also see the exhaustion written all over her. The thing about magic was that the stronger it was the more energy it took out of a person. Uraraka considered herself to be stronger than the average witch, at least by a hair, but fighting in this condition could knock her out cold. “You don’t need to worry about me so much. It’s not a witch hunt.”

Bakugou didn’t appreciate the pun at all, judging from the unimpressed look on his face. “I’m serious, Uraraka. You need to be more vigilant. Whatever is going on, we’re in the shit right now.”

He was right, of course, and Uraraka didn’t have to say anything for him to know that. She sighed and nodded her head before choosing her exit and stepping through the sliding glass door. There wasn’t just one entry port to the police department. There were a number of entrances across the city that a person could choose from, as long as they had a passcode. She and Deku had given Bakugou theirs just in case ages ago.

When she passed through the glass door and came out the other, Uraraka was first hit with the smell of smoke. It was a familiar scent in this area, reminding her of childhood. Growing up, her home had been permeated with the smell of whatever was being cooked in the cauldron, but the smoke from below was always there as well. This was a different kind of smoke, but she would take what she could get.

Glancing over, she caught Bakugou wrinkling his nose in distaste. It wasn’t near the full moon, but his sense of smell was heightened regardless of the day of the month. He didn’t like her neighborhood. Granted, it was fairly sketchy. On a scale of one to ten – where ten was a bunker warded to the teeth with protective spells and one was a flimsy wood shack – her neighborhood was about a four. He, Deku, and Iida had been harping on her to move, but it was easier said than done. Maybe when she got her bonus…

“You didn’t have to walk me home,” Uraraka said as they walked down a dimly lit sidewalk.

“And risk you falling asleep in an alley?” Bakugou shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Now it’s my turn to be the serious one.” Uraraka stepped ahead of him and turned on her heels so that she was facing him, stopping him cold in his tracks. “It’s not safe for you out here.”

He rolled his eyes. To get his attention, she reached out and snagged the strings of his hood, pulling it tighter around his head. He instinctively lifted his hands to make sure that the hood was covering him properly. It wouldn’t do good for his ears to show. His long green coat was able to hide his fluffy tail well enough, but the ears would be a dead giveaway. She could still remember her surprise when she’d met Bakugou for the first time. Werewolves in her part had been hunted down, but in the city, they roamed freely, if not without prejudice against them.

“I can take care of myself,” Bakugou quipped, baring his teeth in a vicious smirk. His canines gleamed dangerously under the flame of the streetlamp. Not as sharp as a vampire’s without it being the full moon, they were still capable of puncturing a man’s jugular should he be so inclined. He could kill her quite easily if he was in one of his frenzies. Even without the influence of the full moon, he had superhuman strength and many people said the bloodlust was still strong in them too.

Uraraka knew that he would never hurt her though. They might’ve gotten into some pretty heated arguments, but she had never once been afraid that he would attack her simply to hurt her.

“Even so, like you said, we’re in the shit, but especially werewolves,” Uraraka said gently, smoothing his hood down. She could feel his ears twitch underneath and pulled her hand away before he could tell her off. “I’d rather not get another call from Kirishima asking if I can bail you out. Everyone at the station thinks I’m dating a ruffian.”

Bakugou’s face flushed pink. “We’re not–”

She couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction, folding her hands behind her back and taking a few steps back. He spent so much time teasing her that it was nice to get one over him every once in a while. “I know. You’d never be interested in a cop, much less a low level witch.” He narrowed his eyes at her, but chose to say nothing as he started to follow her again. She knew that she could be stronger. Deku constantly reassured her that she was one of the strongest witches he knew, but then she’d remind him that he’d only met three witches total. “I’m still allowed to worry about you, aren’t I? Especially since you won’t let me give you that enchanted watch.”

“You know I don’t fuck with magic,” Bakugou told her.

“You fuck with me,” Uraraka shot back mockingly. He stared at her for a beat before his lips pulled up into a smirk and his red eyes glittered. This time, her face burned red and she spun back around so that he couldn’t see her face. She hadn’t meant it like that, especially after that last comment. “What I mean is: it’s me – it’s my magic – and the watch only has a protective spell on it. Okay, that’s a lie. It’s also enchanted to always have the perfect time. What’s the point of it not being functional too?”

Bakugou opened his mouth to argue with her when he suddenly stopped, his brow furrowed and his smirk turning into a frown. “Do you smell that?” Uraraka looked around and shook her head. Maybe it was a little smellier because the garbage man was late picking up the trash, but that was all she could think of. “It smells like something’s burning.”

“Something is always burning around here.” True, the scent of smoke was heavy in the air, but she didn’t think much of it. Smoke was a part of the aesthetic at this point. That was the price of living by a factory that mass-produced magical potions. They weren’t anywhere near as potent or good as home-brewed ones, but those were much harder to come by. She usually stuck to making her own since it was cheaper in the long run.

“No, it’s…” Bakugou broke into a run, leaving Uraraka in the dust.

She took off after him and shouted, “Wait!” but he was much quicker than her. Even if he didn’t have a werewolf’s unnatural speed, he would’ve beat her. She had always been a slow runner. He passed two blocks before she had even made it down one and then disappeared around the corner. “Bakugou, stop!” Her coat was flapping behind her like a cloak and slapping the back of her legs. When she rounded the corner, she ran smack into Bakugou’s back. He was so solid though that she didn’t knock him over. “What are you–?”

The rest of her question was snatched right out of her mouth as she caught sight of the scene Bakugou was staring at. A large building was on fire. Her apartment building was on fire. There were dozens of fire trucks, cop cars, and ambulances surrounding it in an attempt to put it out and help any of the victims, but it was no use. One second it was a regular fire and the next the fire burned a bright blue and grew exponentially like it was a hungry, living monster. As the flames ate every inch of the building, black smoke billowed into the sky.

When she’d said that something was always burning, she hadn’t meant her home.

“Did you leave a cauldron simmering before you left?” Bakugou asked.

“What? No!” Uraraka was almost insulted that he’d even insinuated such a thing, but he didn’t seem to be aware of what he was saying. “That’s not from some slow simmering potion gone wrong or someone leaving their crockpot or coffee maker plugged in.” She pointed an accusing finger at the burning building. “That...is magic.”

Any decent witch could’ve spotted the most subtle magic a mile away. Now that she was watching it three blocks down, she could feel it pulsing in the air, breathing life and death into her at the same time.  If she had ever been tired before, she was alert and awake now, although that might have been because she’d fallen into a state beyond exhaustion. Her eyes were locked onto the red and yellow flames, taking in how alive they looked. Fire was a beast in its own and the creatures capable of it fiercer than most. Not all of them were as mild as Todoroki.

Bakugou turned to her. “Uraraka…”

Hearing her name in that wary tone made everything come crashing down on her all at once. Her apartment was gone. It was destroyed, turned to nothing but ash and soot. “I… Everything I owned was in there…” Luckily she hid her money in a safe elsewhere, but it wasn’t nearly enough along with what she had in the bank to replace all that the fire had taken from her. She had insurance, of course, but only the bare minimum that she could afford. “What am I going to do?” She wasn’t thinking properly. The alertness she felt only seconds ago began to evaporate, replaced by a bone-tired exhaustion that made her want to cry. “Where am I going to sleep?”

“Uraraka,” Bakugou repeated. She snapped out of it and glanced at him. There was a fire in his eyes that matched the intensity of the burning building. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got bigger problems that that.” She blinked thickly, her thoughts muddled at best. “If this was done by magic, I don’t think it was an accident.” He pointed at the buildings next to hers. “Look; they aren’t catching. It’s just your building. No one on the force has the ability to create a barrier like that but you. It was targeted.”

That took Uraraka back. “Targeted?”

“You’re in danger,” Bakugou growled, his hackles practically raised. “That case you’re working on? It must be a lot worse than you thought.”

Uraraka’s eyes swept from Bakugou to her apartment. Judging by the state of the first responders and the building, it had caught on fire suddenly and spread fast. As much as it pained her, she knew that it was impossible to expect that everyone had survived. How many people had died? What for? What was worth ending so many lives just to get to her? Had they thought she was home? Or had they known she wasn’t and did it as a threat to stop her? And if they had attacked her place, who wasn’t to say that they wouldn’t go after Deku, Aizawa, or anyone else on the case?

“We have to call Deku,” Uraraka decided, eyes snapping back to him.

Bakugou’s nostrils flared. “No shit.” He tugged her witch’s hat off her head and threw his arm around her, pulling her close to him and guiding him back around the corner. In her case, the signature hat she wore would give her identity away. Without it, she looked like the average civilian. She another woman on the street. Huddled so close to him, his familiar scent washed over her and the heat of his body burned through his coat. “But first we gotta get you out of here. There’s a chance whoever did this is waiting for you to show up on the scene. Best not give them the chance.”

“Where are we going?” Uraraka asked worriedly. Back to the police station? It was difficult for people to get in there.

Bakugou didn’t answer her though as he pulled out his phone and clicked on Deku’s contact. Uraraka glanced back one last time, taking in the sight of the smoke reaching into the heavens. What the hell was going on? Magic was supposed to be used for good, not this, not the crimes that she’d been investigating since transferring here into the city. It was unnatural. It was wrong. Even the dark arts wasn’t always bad, but this? Oh, this felt like a sickness and it was growing as surely as the flames.

[bigskydreaming]

LOL in all honesty though I’m way too amused by my own Jack Frost joke and its literally from a Bobby/Christian fanfic I wrote like, twelve years ago or something. It was right after Morrison introduced the idea of Christian in his run for purposes of Emma angst, and then they had that Emma solo, and I took that and ran with that fueled entirely by Rage and Spite, as I am wont to do. I now have no idea where said fanfic is, sadly. This was definitely way before Ao3. I think I only posted it on LJ, on an account where my friends list was like....entirely people from an entirely different fandom soooooo probably why that fic never really caught on. Whatever, I write fic more for myself anyway lmao.

It was pretty good though, think it would’ve held up well. The basic premise had to do with Dark Beast, the AU version of Hank from Age of Apocalypse. See, in the comics, when the few survivors of the Age of Apocalypse reality ended up in the 616 reality after it was destroyed, not all of them ended up in the present. Dark Beast, for example, ended up like twenty years in the past. And he didn’t have most of his memories, amnesia from trauma from the cross-dimensional travel or something. Which is when he met a then teenage Emma Frost, who’d just run away from home after everything that happened with her dad and Christian, and she ended up restoring Dark Beast’s memories with her telepathy, so they actually have history in the comics.

So I went with the idea of, okay what if you let Christian have agency in his trauma instead of giving it to Emma, who lbr, has PLENTY of story material on her own. So my premise was that it was Christian who ran away from home and ended up meeting Dark Beast and restoring his memories. And then Dark Beast, who has always been just as obsessed with creating the perfect mutant as Mr. Sinister is, if not more, because he’s like....equally obsessed with proving he’s better than Sinister....well instead of experimenting on the Morlocks, which is what he went on to do in the comics, he looks elsewhere. He never went after Scott or Jean, because he’s also a coward and Sinister scares him shitless, and DB knew damn well there was no such thing as a reality where Sinister hadn’t already called dibs on Scott and Jean’s genes. BUT, Dark Beast also knew from his own reality who all the other most powerful mutants would end up being....years before their powers even manifested in this reality. And since I’m me, of course I wrote it so that like, DB decided to focus on the other one of the 05 destined to grow up to be an omega mutant. 

And so he had Christian, who was young and easily manipulated because Love Me, I Need External Validation, My Last Name is Frost as In My Family’s Credo is What If We’re All Frosty All The Time....he had Christian use his telepathy to like, prompt Bobby into running away before the actual event that led to Xavier and Scott finding him and saving him and him joining the X-Men. Where Bobby of course ‘happened’ to bump into DB, who took him in along with his other young protege Christian, so he could like, secretly conduct experiments on Bobby blah blah you get it. 

But eventually Christian and Bobby fell in lurv and Christian was like what no, this is wrong, bad, not doing this anymore, so they run away together, and then it was basically just me writing them as a mutant Bonnie and Clyde who are gay and do crime together and say like, fuck all the adult mutants who try and manipulate them and other kids like them. Like Xavier, who eventually tried to get Bobby to join the X-Men and Bobby was like lol no, hard pass. Or the Hellfire Club, who eventually tried to recruit Christian except he was like lol no, hard pass. And then they were basically like this Chaotic Good power couple that just popped up here and there fucking shit up in a well-intentioned way that made half the X-Men grind their teeth and the other half snicker, and same with the Acolytes and other various groups. And there wasn’t really anything anyone could do about it because its canon that Bobby’s only real weakness is to psychics and having a world-class psychic as your boyfriend really kinda nips that weakness in the bud. Unless you come up against like, a cosmic-class psychic like Jean Grey, but lucky for them, she just thinks they’re adorable and tends to go whoops, missed them again every time they slip through the X-Men’s fingers.

And ultimately they decided their real mission in life was to rescue really young mutants whose powers manifested early and put them in danger, and make sure they get a chance to grow up without the various factions going ‘we’ll protect you, but only if you grow up to support our agenda and be One of us, shhhh, don’t fight it, just sign your life away on the dotted line, all the cool kids are doing it.’ And also me being me, and it being like 2004 ish? I think? Maybe 2005. Anyway. So my other preoccupation of the time was the Academy X kids so of course we’re talking like Julian and Josh and Cessily and the like, who were all like, adorable little ten year olds at this point in time, but also V. Beyond the Capacity of These Two Hapless Gays to Handle Without Help. Like, apparently omega powers and world-class telepathy do not actually qualify you to effectively parent a mob of young mutant menaces when you’re only 21-22 yourselves, who knew. So they ended up just showing up on the doorstep of one of Emma’s properties, mutant menace mob in tow, as she was the White Queen by now, and Christian greeting her facepalm moment with ‘Hey Ems, remember how you always wanted to be a teacher?’

And then there was this bit where Emma was something like “I’m a bit busy trying to take over the world, darling, try me again after my mid-life crisis.”

And Christian was all: “You can teach and take over the world at the same time, y’know, some of us are capable of this little thing called multi-tasking?”

And Bobby helpfully piped up: “I can pat my head and rub my stomach at the same time.”

Cue Emma’s wrinkled nose and accusing stare at her brother: “What on earth do you see in him?”

But Bobby just turned around and was like: “Umm, for starters, my ass is amazing. Have you not seen it? Here, touch it. Go ahead, you can squeeze it.”

Emma: .....

Christian, shrugging: “Well I mean, he’s not wrong.”

Emma: “If I agree to this idiotic plan of yours will you leave immediately and never come back?”

Bobby, stage whispering: “Tell her we still want holiday visits, so we can be the cool gay uncles who show up and spoil them rotten and thus they love us more than her. But don’t tell her that last part.”

Christian, dutifully: “We want to still come by for holidays so we can be the cool gay uncles who show up and spoil them rotten and thus they love us but no more than you, an equal amount only.”

Emma: “I’m standing right here you imbeciles.”

Bobby, still whispering: “Make sure that includes Easter. I’m pretty sure if I show up in a bunny costume I can make her head explode.”

Christian: “Just to be clear, that includes - “

Emma, a vein in her temple throbbing: “Just give me the children already.”

Bobby, gathering up the kids in a crowd around him, all noisy and giggling and clamoring for his attention: “Okay kids, so here’s the plan. From now on, you guys are gonna stay here in this big old house with Auntie Em!”

Emma, appalled: “Oh. My. God.”

Christian frowns: “Emma, please stop trying to fry my boyfriend’s brain. I’m not going to let you.”

And then the kids swarmed through the door past her into the hallway and there were the sounds of stuff breaking, distracting her for a bit before she like, glared at Bobby and was all: “This is all your doing!”

Bobby, hurt: “Only mostly! Chris and I are a team. A united front. It was a 60/40 split.”

Christian: “Well....”

Bobby: “Okay, 70/30.”

Christian: “You said you were going out to get some waffles to make breakfast in the morning and you came home with waffles, ice cream, and Julian on your shoulders.”

Bobby: “He followed me home!”

Christian: “That’s not how he tells it.”

Bobby, whirling on the ten year old Julian Keller who’s playing a Gameboy and looking entirely unconcerned: “You little traitor.”

Julian flipped him off.

Bobby, scandalized: “He did NOT learn that from me.”

Julian, still not looking up from his game: “Yes I did.”

And that was when Christian started dragging his boyfriend back to their car, before Bobby can get into an actual fight with a ten year old, yelling back over his shoulder at Emma: “Okay, great, thanks so much for doing this, let us know if you need us to bring anything when we come back in a few days with the second batch.”

Emma, distracted and trying to do a headcount: “Yes, fine, be gone already. ...Wait. What second batch? DRAAAAAAAKE!!”

But it was too late as the car is halfway to her big mansion gates by then, Bobby cackling: “Hey, we should totally get a dog. Like a little foofy one.”

Christian, knowing better than to ask but asking anyway: “And why is that?”

Bobby: “Bet you anything I can get her to say “I’ll get you and your little dog too!’”

Christian: “I’d appreciate it for both our sakes if you never do or say anything to suggest to my sister you’ve ever compared her to the Wicked Witch of the West. I mean, not that she’d protest on moral grounds, but she takes her color schemes very seriously. And you do know you don’t actually have to provoke her quite so much...”

Bobby: “Mmmm....agree to disagree. It’s the principle of the matter.”

Christian: “What principle? What matter?”

That was the gist of that scene anyway. Dialogue’s probably different, but you get it.

Ugh, I probably have the whole thing sitting in an old email account somewhere because that’s always been my main way of backing stuff up, is emailing it to myself. Problem is, I think I had a specific fandom email account back then and I don’t know what it is anymore lol. 

[christopherschreave]

afternoon

A/N: HELLO. So this has been a rough time and legit everyone has been busy it seems, but hopefully y’all like the challenge posted later today (beware, u will be kinda left on the dark for details of this challenge, but so will your characters). also, hope you will like the next fics. there’s gonna be different perspectives u haven’t seen in the next week. here u got the king, (we present chrisobel to u) and something small at the end from someone else~

—————

the k i n g

—————

I looked down at the ball of fur in my arms and scratched his back, making my way to Isobel’s office. It was afternoon, so she was bound to be eating some lunch, pretending to take a break but actually reading over work as she did so.

Cracking the door open once I arrived, I made sure her chair was facing the other way and snuck in. It was getting harder to pull stunts like this, but it was doable. I just had to hide behind the closest couch and wait a few seconds for her to turn back to her food.

Mashed Potato wagged his tail, staring up at me like he was excited for this new game. I smirked back at him and winked, taking a look over the top cushions to make sure Isobel was distracted once more.

I prompted the pup on one of my arms and crawled over to the desk, strategically resting my back against the wood and lifting the puppy into the air. I could hear the low creak of Isobel’s chair as she turned back around to face the side of the desk I was hiding behind.

There was a clear jolt, probably at the sudden sight of a dog peeking over her desk. It didn’t take her long to lean forward and look down at me. I was met with the same smile I’d fallen for ages ago, eyes crinkling at the corners as her cheekbones rose. A hint of coyness behind her eyes just before she rolled them. “Chris, what are you doing with a dog in my office?”

Smiling back, I explained his name was Mashed Potato. She took the dog from my hands and cuddled with it. “Where'd you get him?”

I stood up, leaning with one hand on the desk like a pro. “There’s going to be around 65 dogs in the ballroom today.”

She looked up at me and blinked once. “Um, why?”

“Lady Gabriella thought it was a good way to spend time with Ben.”

“Unique batch of girls.” She let out a small laugh, making me smile as she stood with our potato dog and walked around the desk.

“I figured you would like to join a bit of the fun.”

She stared at the dog for a moment, taking a step closer to me and looking up with hopeful eyes. I’d known she would want to keep it, but I’d brought him along anyway. When I hummed and leaned down to meet the dog’s eye level, he licked my nose in response. “You sure you want to keep him?”

“You can’t deny a dog named Mashed Potato,” she kissed the top of the dog’s head and I stood up straighter, ready to complain.

“Hey, I want a kiss too. He wouldn’t be here if not for me.”

She narrowed her eyes at me and then at the pooch. “Hmm, should I do it Mashed Potato?” M.P simply licked her mouth back and she chuckled, moving her face away from the wild tongue of our guest. “I don’t think you’d want to anymore.”

I made a face at the comment but reached for a tissue to wipe her mouth instead of giving up. She placed a hand on my chest when I was done cleaning dog saliva residue. It was a brief kiss and she parted away with a “thanks.” I smiled down at her, tangling my fingers into her hair and pulled her carefully into a longer kiss. That was until Mashed Potato decided to lick my chin and join the fun.

He clearly didn’t know boundaries.

I laughed, but didn’t pull away fully, our noses still grazing each other. “First it was the children and now it’ll be the dog?” The struggles of a parent.

Her laugh echoed mine and she pet the dog lightly as if that would keep the ball of fur satisfied. “We can give him to the kids every once in a while,” she mumbled, her lips brushing mine before she kissed me again. “Show them what it’s like.”

Sometimes I wished we could just stay in this bubble. Pretend we were nothing but a married couple with normal worries. That wasn’t possible, but we could pretend.

I wrapped an arm around her waist, my thumb tracing circles on the small strands of hair that left her ponytail. “I don’t think he’ll ask them for piggyback rides...or to watch staged plays with sword fights. Seems a little unfair.”

“They’ll have to feed him, walk him, clean up his messes... It’s a start,” one last kiss before we parted. “You can give him a piggyback ride if you really want to.”

I let go of her with a laugh, taking the dog back and walking off to the sofa with him. “I doubt it'll be the same.” Plopping down on the old furniture, I placed M.P on my chest. He wasted no time and tried to climb up my chest to reach my face for more dog kisses, but he wasn’t getting too much progress done and I focused on the ceiling instead.

65 dogs coming to the palace because of the Selection.

Wild things had happened during my Selection. Nothing quite like dogs invading… but thinking about it reminded me these type of things would slowly lead to something.

There’s a very clear drift when you realize one of your kids might be married in the next few years and your youngest might start asking permission to date soon. Suddenly you realize part of your job, that job you got so accustomed to, is coming to an end and you can’t really stop it.

“They turned out okay, right?”

Isobel knew what I was talking about without further explanation, joining me on the couch and crossing a leg over the other as she leaned against me, “I’d say we did a decent job.” Her hand squeezed my arm. “Worried?”

“I just--” I had no real way to end that sentence, so I kissed her hair and took a deep breath. I’d seen Ben rushing around meeting after meeting, but he never approached me with anything. “I wish he'd talk to me about how things are going. I know he's old enough to deal with this, that's why I waited a bit longer for his Selection...but I also know he must struggle with it. I certainly did. It's a weird experience and no one really gets what it's like.” Giving her a knowing look, I added, “You know my dad had nothing good to say when I was confused, but I still asked.”

Her agreement on dad was evident on her scoff, yet she didn’t dwell too much on it this time, thinking more about our eldest. “You know how he is, wanting to handle everything himself. Especially after, well…” Kissing a random girl before this all started? I thought, but waited for her to shake her head and continue. “I’m sure he’ll come to you soon. He always does, in the end.”

I wanted to believe her, but a part of me knew that wasn’t entirely true. It was wishful thinking. Ben always struggled to come to me for help on certain things. Maybe he thought I’d see him as less for it, I still hadn’t figured it out, but a reason he must’ve had.

People say that once your children are adults you have to let them go out into the world and make their own mistakes. I could agree with that, but I didn’t believe that meant you needed to erase yourself from the picture forever. No one is too old or too young for advice. No matter how knowledgeable you believe you are, experience from someone that has lived longer will always add on. Even when the advice is bad... advice it is what it is: A calculated suggestion. A nudge into a certain direction.

You don’t have to follow it, but it gives a new perspective. If lucky, it might even be good.

My father knew that and he wasn’t the greatest person. Some might even say an awful parent—’some’ being myself sometimes—but there were moments, scarce ones, when he would say something that would leave me completely floored for the right reasons. He knew what it was like to be a parent. He just had terrible views half the time.  

I didn’t say anything, scratching the dog’s ear. She pressed a kiss on my cheek, raising both eyebrows and asking if I trusted her. I grumbled that it wasn’t a fair question. Of course I did. She knew that, but she also knew I wasn’t convinced of this, so she went on. “You know him. You know how much he values your opinion. So yes, very fair question.”

It was silent for a while. She already sensed something was wrong with me, but she didn’t push. She waited patiently. I wasn’t too forthcoming.

“Anyway,” I mumbled, looking down at her petting the dog. “Mashed Potato is our newest family member then?”

“Our fifth and last child.”

“For sure.” I linked my fingers with hers and squeezed. “We’ve got enough kids to take over in case I die.”

“Wyatt would run away and join the circus if that ever happened. Layla with her guitar.” She paused for a beat. “Is Hazel our most sensible child?”

“I think she is,” I laughed, thinking of our little gang of rascals. “And people say the youngest is the hardest to keep up with…”

—————

j a m e s

—————

It wasn’t that it was completely unbelievable, but rather that it was unexpected.

Like getting a flash from the past. A girl spinning around in the gardens with a simple and careless smile. Just a different time and place. She danced in circles with guards and maids around her, other girls her age amongst the group. She wasn’t awkwardly glancing away from people. She was meeting them head on. Not flustered or nervous. Not the simple observer she’d been when I hung out with her and the other Schreaves. She was almost laughing, her hair dancing in circles with her movements.

She wasn’t holding back.

The Hazel I’d known all my life stood before me for the first time in years. She wasn’t quiet or someone you could simply forget being in a room with. She was the girl dragging guards and maids into the cluster of people.

I could feel my heart racing, the overwhelming feeling to join her filling me as it always did when we were kids. When neither of us had to ask if we should do something, we just did it… but I hesitated. My feet didn’t move. I was stuck watching the girl that was once my closest friend, a blush creeping its way up my cheeks because she looked stunning. There was no other way to put it.

Do something James, come on.

I couldn’t walk into the servant quarters just like that. Especially not to talk with her. What would I say? Either something stupid would come out—that was bound to make her uncomfortable—or my brain would suddenly become a jumble of random letters and screaming.

For better or for worse, I never got the chance to debate what to do in my head. Hazel’s eyes had caught mine in the middle of a twirl. They were wide and unguarded.

Before I could stop myself, I was already taking a step forward.

[lamptracker]

FIC: Tonight, I’ll need you to stay

The last of the big batch of fic requests. That box is always open.

Prompts: 

“How could you do this to me?” “I never want to see you again.” “I know you, and this isn’t you.” “I thought I could trust you.” “You betrayed my trust.” “I don’t need you.” “Get away from me.” There’s one more - “Are you sure about this?” - that will show up in part 2.

SO

Title: Tonight, I’ll need you to stay (from a line in “Run & Go” by Twenty One Pilots)

Part: 1 of...2? Maybe 2. 

Pairing: Tom Holland/Reader, reader/OC

Summary: The reader is in an abusive relationship and needs Tom to help her out of it.

Warnings: Domestic abuse, swearing, angst. 

Also: Brad is an original character. I tried to think of the douchiest name I could.

(y/n) was sitting on the bus on her way home from work, and thinking.

She’d gotten off work early that day to surprise her boyfriend, Brad. They’d been dating almost a year, and she wanted to do something special to mark their upcoming anniversary. And, honestly, to help heal the relationship a little bit.

(Y/n) had two best friends, Harrison Osterfield and Tom Holland. They met when they were 11 and became practically inseparable. She had actually been in love with Tom since she was about 15. But she decided that because of his career, she could never do anything about it. So she asked a friend from work if she knew anyone, and she introduced her to Brad.  He was cute, and funny, and charming. At first.  She moved into his place, at his urging, four months ago. Since then, he’d gone to the bar more and stayed home to hang out with her less. He’d become weirdly critical and possessive of her. Nothing she did was ever good enough. All their fights could be traced back to her, according to him. He didn’t like her friends. He especially didn’t like that her two best friends were guys, and that one of them was a famous actor. Brad tried to make her cut off contact with them altogether, but you don’t cut out people that have been your best friends for ten years just because your boyfriend says so. But, (y/n) did agree to text them a little less, if it meant making things work with Brad. He’d always had a temper, which resulted in some pretty heated arguments between the two of them, but (thankfully) he’d never hit her.

She stayed because he convinced her she needed him.

She ducks into the little store on the corner where she catches the bus, and grabs a few things. She’s making Brad’s favorite for dinner. She walks home, goes into the apartment, quickly puts away the groceries, and heads to the living room. Brad isn’t in there, though; figuring he’s taking a nap, she goes toward the bedroom.

“Hey, Brad? I’m home, are you-” She stops dead in her tracks at the sight.

Brad is in bed, alright.

With another woman.

“Who is this, Brad?” the woman asks. (Y/n) recognizes her as one of the receptionists from Brad’s office.

“Never mind that, just go. I’ll call you later.” Brad hastily picks up the woman’s clothes and thrusts them at her; then turns to (y/n). “What the hell are you doing home? You weren’t supposed to be home for another two hours!”

“I wanted to surprise you,” (Y/n) answers.

“Well, mission fucking accomplished,” Brad replies angrily as the other woman quickly dresses and runs out the door.

“How could you do this to me?!” She yells. “I love you, I thought you loved me too. I thought I could trust you, and you betrayed my trust!” Tears start to fall down her cheeks.

“Well, you betrayed mine by not working what you were scheduled. Besides, if you would have shown me a little more attention, I wouldn’t have to have resorted to this.”

(Y/n) scoffs through her tears. “Oh, so this is my fault somehow? You are the one that pulled away. You are the one that went out every night. You are the one that got all weird about my hanging out with two people who have been my best friends since grade school.”

“I don’t like that they’re guys,” Brad says. “You might cheat on me with them.”

“So it’s okay for you to cheat on me, but it’s not okay for me to cheat on you? Got it. Thanks.” (Y/n) starts to storm out of the room.

Brad catches up to her and grabs her arm roughly. “You don’t get to talk to me that way, (y/n).”

“Since when do you get to tell me what to do?” She wriggles out of his grasp. “Get away from me.”

With that, Brad suddenly strikes her, hard, across the face. She immediately reaches up to touch her cheek, which is stinging from the contact.

“What the hell was that, Brad?” she asks, shakily.

“I don’t know,” Brad says. He sighs. “Look, baby, I’m sorry-”

She shakes her head. “No. You are not. You don’t get to do that and then try to play it off.”

“Whatever.” Brad hastily puts on a pair of jeans and a shirt. “I’m going to the bar. We have some things to discuss. When I get back, you’d better damn well be here.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t be. I don’t need you.”

“Yes, you do.” Brad storms out, slamming the door behind him.

She collapses onto the bed, still holding her cheek, and dissolves into tears. After a moment, she grabs a couple of bags, gathers up what few belongings she has, and calls an Uber.

She knows just where to go.

Meanwhile, across town, Tom is pacing around the living room of his flat.

“Tom, sit down,” Harrison says. “You’re making me nervous.”

“Sorry, man. I just… it’s been ages since I’ve heard from (y/n). I’m worried about her.”

“Well, she did say she and Brad were having problems recently. Maybe they’re working things out.”

Tom shrugs. “I guess so. But it’s not like her to go this long without at least saying hello.” He sighs and finally sits down on the couch. “I never liked Brad, anyway. He’s a fucking wanker, that one.”

Harrison snorts. “Are you sure you’re not just saying that because you’ve been in love with her since we were 15?”

“I’m sure, Harrison. I don’t like the way he treats her. And thanks for bringing that up, by the way.”

“You should have asked her out a long time ago.”

“I know.” Tom runs a hand through his hair. “I just…”

He is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who could that be, I mean…” he mutters to himself as he opens the door. “Oh! (Y/n)! What are you doing here?”

She is standing there, suitcases in hand, hood of her sweatshirt pulled down as far over her face as she can. “Hi, Tom. Look, I know it’s been awhile, but...is it okay if I stay with you for a few days?”

“Of course you can, darling. As long as you need.” He gathers her bags as she makes her way to the couch. “What’s going on?”

(Y/n) sniffles as she sits down. “I...nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Tom hands the bags to Harrison, who puts them in the extra bedroom. “Oh, (y/n). You know you can tell me anything. Did something happen between you and Brad?”

She continues to sit wordlessly, occasionally punctuating the air with sniffles.

“Please, (y/n). You’re not usually this quiet. I know you, and this isn’t you. I’m your best friend. Please tell me, what’s happened?”

Tears falling down her face yet again, (Y/n) finally answers. “I can’t… I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it.”

“Can I pull down your hood, though?”

She nods.

Tom gingerly pushes the hood back. Her face is tear-stained, her eyes puffy, hair messy, and a big red welt has formed on one cheek.

“Oh, my God,” he says softly. His fingers graze the spot, and she winces. “Did… did he hit you?”

“Yes. First time. Last time too.” She tries to push back a sob. “I caught him in bed with another woman. I don’t know how long it’s been going on. But he blames me, of course. Says I don’t pay enough attention to him.” She collapses onto Tom’s shoulder, and starts sobbing.

Tom wraps his arms around her as she cries. It takes all he has not to start crying himself.

“That motherfucker,” he whispers. “I’m going to rip his fucking head off if I see him again.”

“Want me to help you kill him?” Harrison asks. He’s seated on (y/n)’s other side, and has started gently rubbing her back.

“You guys are the best.” (Y/n) sits up, still sniffling. “Oh, God. Can I have a tissue, please?”

Harrison gets up to grab a box of tissues. (Y/n) and Tom sit, facing each other.

“I’ll go get the extra bedroom ready,” Harrison offers, and heads down the hallway to do so.

“You know it’s not your fault,” Tom says after a moment.

“I know that.” (Y/n) takes a tissue out of the box. “He’s just.. I mean… maybe I should forgive him. Maybe I should go back. He loves me.”

“Oh, he bloody does not.” Tom takes her into his arms again. “If he loved you, would he sleep with other women? If he loved you, would he call you those names, blame every argument on you? If he loved you, would he forbid you from seeing your friends? If he loved you, would he hit you? He doesn’t love you. He loves being in control of you.”

(Y/n) starts sobbing again, head buried in the crook of Tom’s neck. She realizes that he’s right. If Brad truly loved her, he’d try to make things work. He wouldn’t destroy what they’d built and then blame her for it.

“He doesn’t love you,” Tom says again, voice barely above a whisper. “Not nearly as much as I do.”

He’s not sure if she heard him. Doesn’t much matter. He wouldn’t do anything about it while she’s in this state, anyway.

He gently kisses the top of her head and just holds her while she cries. Soon after, she’s stopped; Tom looks down and notices she’s fallen asleep. He sighs, tightening his grip on her.

“So now what?” Harrison whispers.

“I don’t know.” Tom shrugs. “I don’t suppose you could get us a blanket?”

About an hour later, (Y/n) is still asleep. Tom has yet to relax. He can’t.

Harrison is right. He should have told her a long time ago how he felt about her. Maybe they wouldn’t be in this situation. Maybe she’d be falling asleep in his arms under better circumstances. Maybe Fucking Brad would have never come into their lives.

He’s trying to get his thoughts to settle down long enough to get some sleep, when someone suddenly starts banging on the door.

“(Y/n)! Open up! I know you’re in there!”

(Y/n) awakens with a jolt and sits up suddenly. Brad.

“Oh, my God. I can’t believe he came here,” she whispers.

Tom stands up. “I’ll take care of this,” he mutters angrily.

“Tom,” she says. “Just don’t get arrested.”

Tom laughs shortly and says, “I can’t make any promises.” He flings the door open. “Oh, hello, Brad. So nice to see you again. Let’s go out to the hall, shall we?” He shoves Brad into the hallway and closes the door shut behind him.

“The fuck are you doing, Tom? She’s in there, I need to talk to her. She needs to come home.”

“Your house is not a home any longer.” Tom narrows his eyes at the other man.

“What’d she tell you, anyway?”

“The truth. She has no reason to lie to me. You have no reason to treat her this way. You also have no reason to ever go near her again.”

Brad sneers. “What, do you love her or something?”

“Irrelevant. She’s been my best friend since we were 11 and I cannot abide this.”

“This isn’t your problem, Tom, why-”

Tom suddenly grabs Brad by the shirt collar and slams him up against the wall. “It became my problem the second you laid your hands on her, the second she showed up on my doorstep in tears because of what you’d done. And to blame it on her? Real fucking manly, Brad, real fucking manly.”

“It is her fault, though,” Brad asserts. “She didn’t fight for me, she-”

Tom, at this point, is seeing nothing due to blind rage. With one swift motion, he lifts a knee and delivers it full-force into Brad’s groin.

“Oh, son of a bitch!” Brad exclaims as he falls to the ground, grabbing himself.

“I want to make myself perfectly clear,” Tom growls. “You will not go near her again. You will not call her. You will not text her. You won’t even talk about her. I never want to see you again. If you so much as get within ten miles of her, I will call the police and I will press charges for domestic abuse. Are we clear?”

Brad just nods as he feebly stands up.

“Good. Now fuck off.” Tom watches as Brad runs down the hallway and out the door. And, just to be a little shit, Tom waves. “Lovely chat, Brad. Won’t be seeing ya, though.” He slowly exhales, and heads back into the apartment.

“What happened out there?” Harrison asks. He’s seated on the couch next to (y/n), holding her hand.

“I let him know that he’s not welcome to speak to (y/n) ever again. If he does, I’m calling the police.” Tom smirks. “I may have also, ah, hindered his ability to have children in the future.”

“Good,” (y/n) snorts. “Don’t need any more copies of him running about.”

Tom chuckles ruefully. “Well, you’re safe with us now. Come on, it’s been a long day. Let’s get you to bed. Harrison has the extra bedroom all ready for you.”

“Actually,” (y/n) says, “would it be okay if I slept in your room? You know, with you? I just… I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“I suppose so, yeah. Go ahead and get changed. I’ll be along.” Tom helps her off the couch and gives her a hug before she goes to change into her pajamas. He collapses on to the couch and sighs, running both hands through his hair.

“You gonna be alright?” Harrison asks.

“For her, I’m going to have to be,” Tom replies.

“Alright, mate. I’m off to bed, then. See you in the morning.” Harrison claps Tom on the shoulder and goes to his room.

A tired Tom pushes himself off the couch and goes into his room. (Y/n) is in her pajamas, curled up on the bed.

He changes out of his jeans and hoodie into a pair of pajama pants. He slides into bed next to (y/n) and asks, “Do you need anything?”

“Could you hold me?” she asks in a small voice.

“Of course, darling.”

She rests her head on his chest and Tom wraps his arms around her. He gently runs his fingers through her hair as she starts to fall asleep.

“Good night, (Y/n),” he says softly.

He’s just about to fall asleep himself when he suddenly feels her lips brush against his.

Their first kiss.

It doesn’t have much emotion behind it, Tom notices. It’s just very...needy. She needs something that, right now, he can’t give her.

“Um,” he says, breaking the kiss. “What are you-”

“I need you, Tom.” She kisses him again.

“What do you mean, need me to-”

“I need you, Tom,” she repeats. “I heard what you said earlier. That you love me. I love you too. And I want this. I need this.”

“I… I can’t, (Y/n). Not like this. It wouldn’t… I can’t…” he pauses, trying to form words. “I can’t do this right now.” He stands up and paces for a bit.

“You...can’t?” She sits up in the bed.

Tom sighs. “I can’t. I want to. I’ve wanted to for a very long time. Look, (y/n). I love you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. More than my career. More than anything. It’s always been you. But right now I just can’t. You’ve just had something very traumatic happen to you, and you need time to heal. I’d be taking advantage of you in a bad situation, and I’d never be able to live with myself. But just know that I’ll be here when you’re really, really ready. Okay?” He sits back down onto the bed, and gently takes her hand.

A tear rolls down (y/n)’s cheek as she nods. “I love you so much, Tom. I never did anything about it because of your career. If I’d just listened to my heart a long time ago, I wouldn’t be in this situation right now.” She smiles sadly. “And you’re right. I’m not in a very good frame of mind right now. I’ll need time.”

“I’ll be here. Just like I said.”

“Thank you.” She kisses him gently on the cheek. “Would you still hold me, though?”

“Yes, of course.” He settles back down; she rests her head on his chest one more time as he folds her into his arms.

“G’night, Tom.”

“G’night, darling.” He kisses the top of her head and sighs deeply as they both drift off to sleep.

**

part 2 might have smut in it so stay tuned for that.