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yellowocaballero · 3 years

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Hunt!Tim: Five Times He Murdered Someone And One Time He Loved them <3

Just kidding. This is a fic set in my Roleswap AU, acting as a character study over the course of the series into...whatever the fuck was going on with that guy. I spent so much time and energy actually figuring out his arc and character that when I finished Solitaire I hadn’t said everything I wanted to say, so that’s why this exists. It’s...not funny at all. Tim takes himself far too seriously. I’m very sorry, there are almost no jokes in this. It just doesn’t work.

Content warning for story typical issues; but more explicit depiction of suicidal ideation, kidnapping and physical assault, just in general a very fucked up little dude, and gendered violence that is more explicitly discussed as a possible precursor to further violence. Rest under the cut.

“I’m going to fucking kill them!”

“Well,” Sasha said, tapping away relentlessly on her phone as she sat primly on his couch. During work hours she was always doing something mysterious on her laptop, and after work it was on her phone. She had once alluded to being the moderator of an improbable number of forums. She liked the power. “We could probably make that happen. It’s the Magnus Institute, it’s suspicious if nobody's dying. But four people at once may not be prudent.”

“I don’t care!” Tim yelled. He paced his living room in tight lines, turning sharply on his heel at the end of the room. It felt like he was bursting with pent-up energy and rage, sending his heartbeat thumping in his ears like a war drum. “They’re obstructing justice, withholding evidence from an investigation, probably acting as an accomplice -”

“I’m going to fucking kill them!”

Sasha’s head snapped up, eyes glinting at him behind the big glasses that she always hid behind. “So you do think they were involved in Gertrude’s death?”

“Who cares. They did something, they’re obviously guilty of whatever. Every one of them have rap sheets.” Everyone but that blonde woman, which seemed a little counter-intuitive. “We just have to find something.”

Sasha hesitated, just momentarily, and she carefully put her phone down. “You’re angry, Tim. It’s affecting your judgement. Remember when we talked about that? Deep breaths. Come on, in one and out two. ”

Tim grimaced, but Sasha was right. He stopped pacing, and at Sasha’s encouraging look he resentfully took a few deep breaths. It did make him feel better. His heart wasn’t thumping in his ears anymore. She was so good at calming him down. She was just so wonderful in every way.

Thinking about how great Sasha was effective in clearing his head, but it just highlighted how terrible those women were in comparison. No respect. It was disgusting.

“Thanks,” Tim said gruffly, eliciting a beautiful smile. He collapsed on the couch next to her, disgusted and frustrated. “We’re never going to solve this Robinson case so long as those women are in the way. I won’t tolerate any obstacles in getting justice.”

“I know, and that’s what’s brave about you,” Sasha soothed, clasping his shoulder gently. Her thumb worked into his shoulder, gentle and soothing. “But we have to do it quietly. We don’t just need them out of the way, we need information. I’ll work on the technological side. You can dig up an entire life online, trust me. But if they know any of the secrets about the Institute and the Archives, we have to press them. That’s your strength, Tim. You can get anything out of anyone, because you never give up.”

Tim turned his head and smiled weakly at her. “And your strength is that you’re always there for me.” Her eyebrow ticked, but Tim hardly noticed. “I’ll keep pressing. They can’t stonewall me forever. I have their boss’ address, I’ll just show up there.”

“He’s going to ask for a warrant -”

“Oh, who gives a shit, nobody cares.” Tim snorted. “He’s a pussy if he’s hiding behind those women, anyway.” At Sasha’s carefully arched eyebrow, Tim quickly added, “Coward, I meant coward.”

“So you do remember our conversation about being PC,” Sasha said, making Tim snort. Please. Those sensitivity training the department was always forcing on them was a joke. Tim laughed with the other guys about it afterwards. He didn’t know why Sasha was complaining; she laughed just as mockingly as the rest of them. But she just readjusted her glasses now, a sign she was a little nervous. “Tim, about what you said just before we left -”

“What about it?” Tim said sharply.

Sasha was silent for a minute, before adjusting her glasses again. “Nothing. Just - be careful, okay? People who get too close to the Magnus Institute end up dead.”

If only they would. But Tim grinned at her, bright and sharp, and Sasha hesitantly smiled back too. Tim’s conviction, his bravery, always seemed to make her feel better. Sasha thought too much. She rarely second guessed herself - that was why Tim liked her - but sometimes she just thought herself into twists. She needed someone like him to cut that Gordian Knot. “Don’t worry, Sash. The good guys always prevail.”

Tim would kill them. All he needed was a reason.

ii.

Tim had nightmares, now.

Not full ones. Strange, fragmented dreams that were quickly forgotten after he woke up. Most of the time. But not always. And they were so strangely vivid - as if he was really living that moment over and over again.

It was of that construction site. And of Danny, watching those murders and the corpses with a sick, fascinated smile. And of Tim, defenseless and powerless and trembling and weak, watching it all happen.

Sometimes there would be a man. Just once or twice. The man, who would always be wearing really stupid pyjamas that contrasted wildly with how attractive he was, would frown at Tim.

‘Hey’, Sims said, ‘aren’t you that prick?’.

And Tim would wake up, heart beating fast, thumping in his ears, afraid in exactly that same poisonous metallic way that he hadn’t felt since he was a child.

Tim was going to kill that monster.

****

On a Monday afternoon, Tim sat in the driver’s seat of his car, checking his gun.

Gun, check. Rope, check. Shovel, check. Lighter and gasoline, check. Axe with belt, check, just in case things went really south. Gag, check. Tim had no idea how many secret powers that thing had, he wasn’t taking any chances.

Monday was the only night that they all went home alone. It took two frustrating weeks of stake-outs to realize that. Since he had cornered that bitch Melanie she even walked home with Daisy, who apparently lived close by. It was worth it, though. She was finally feeding him useful information, even though Tim knew that she thought she was giving irrelevant information about what they really wanted. He gave most of it straight to Sasha, who was salivating over all of the puzzle pieces Melanie was casually dumping on them as if they were meaningless. Whatever. That was Sasha’s job.

She had been worried about him lately. Probably. Tim hadn’t really noticed. He was focused on the case. Tim was a perfectionist like that.

Finally, at 5:20, Tim saw the monster - Jon, whatever, he wasn’t scared of him - round the corner. He was a little hard to distinguish in the darkness, but that was why Tim had left the headlights on.

His heart was thumping, roaring in his ears. Tim was giddy with excitement and anticipation and thirst. Catching them wasn’t the best part, but this would feel so good. He had been vividly imagining the look of fear on the thing’s face for the past month, ever since he assaulted Tim. He just couldn’t decide how he wanted to kill him - he brought his nightstick just in case he wanted to bash his face in, but fire was practical and incredibly painful.

Showtime, Tim thought, as he opened his car door and stepped out. After Tim took care of this, he and Sasha would be safe. That was the important thing. He was protecting Sasha from that thing. That was why he did it, all of it.

Jon startled a little when he saw him, but his face was backlit from the headlights and his features were probably obscured. It wasn’t until Tim stepped forward, easily and casually, that Jon began the slight speedwalk of a pedestrian encountering a persistent panhandler on the street.

“Stop right there.”

Jon froze. Not as stupid as he looks, then. Still pretty stupid.

Tim walked forward until he was standing at Jon’s back, already silently drawing out his handcuffs with one hand.

“Detective Stoker,” Jon said, and Tim almost respected the way his voice didn’t shake. “I wish this was more of a surprise.”

Normally Tim appreciated a good intimidating monologue, but he could be more efficient right now. Besides, there was time for that later. Jon turned his head backwards slightly, trying to see his face - perfect - and Tim waited until he could see his expression before he jammed the barrel of his gun on Jon’s throat.

There it was. The expression that few people besides Tim had ever seen, that secret face of man that each person felt so few times in their lives if they felt it at all. The face of a man who knew he was about to die.

It was Tim’s little secret.

“Why -”

Tim bashed it over the head with the barrel of the gun, and it dropped on the gun like a lanky puppet with its strings cut. No use letting it finish a question.

Handcuffs, rope, trunk. Carefully just under the speed limit, barrelling out of London into the cold and emotionless woods. Turning on the stereo - some mindless Amy Winehouse song. Tim found himself whistling along with it, fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

It wasn’t that Tim liked killing people, or even things that looked and begged and cried like people. But it was just something you had to do. Tim shouldered that burden, so innocent people wouldn’t have to. As a police officer, he had sworn to be the wolf that protects the sheep. That was Tim - that loyal and heroic wolf.

The thrill was overwhelming. That was why people had sex in public - that excited thrill over possibly getting caught. Not that he would, and even if he did Tim basically had carte blanche to handle his cases how he wanted, but he could. His skin was prickling, his heartbeat thumping in his ears. Saliva was pooling in his mouth, which he wiped off with one hand. Adrenaline did weird things. When he looked at the rear mirror inside the car to check on Jo - the monster, he saw the light of the headlights glinting strangely against his eyes, but in another second it was gone.

Tim didn’t have a ‘spot’ because that was fucking idiotic, but all of his dumping places had basically the same characteristics. You had to drive a while to get something really private. It took an hour, but they got to Chiltern hills eventually, and Tim was forced to squint at Google Maps to find the GPS coordinates he had planned out. It felt a little ridiculous to use Google Maps to find a burial spot for somebody but - well, life was weird.

When he stopped, he carefully took out the gag, the axe, the shovel, his own hunting knife, and dumped them in the spot he had picked out. He held the gag and holstered the hunting knife before carefully popping open the trunk.

Jo - the monster was awake. Which was fortunate; there was no fight when they were unconscious. He stared up at Tim with big brown eyes, all innocent and pleading, and Tim rolled his eyes before bending down to securely jam the gag in his mouth before grabbing him by his tied hands and dragging him out. The thing made a bunch of sad noises, and from the sounds of it he had wrenched a shoulder, but that wouldn’t be an issue in a few minutes.

The thing’s legs had clearly fallen asleep, and he stumbled onto the ground the minute Tim let go of him. He kept his eyes on Tim almost frantically, as if he could brainwash him by his eyes alone - could he? Could he? His eyes were fucking freaky.

Jesus. What if he could. Fuck, Tim barely knew anything about his freaky powers. But if he could brainwash via eye contact, couldn’t he -

No. Tim shook himself. That was the fear talking. Which shouldn’t exist. The fear should be gone. He had the thing bound and gagged at his feet, terrified out of its life, he couldn’t possibly still be scared of it. Fucking stupid. He was just cautious. That was caution. Tim was a cautious person.

Time for his favorite part, then.

Tim grinned lazily down at the thing, letting his white teeth flash in the lit headlights of the car. He hadn’t been able to sleep last night, writing all of this out in his mind. “Not so great on the other side, huh?”

The monster’s eyes widened.

Tim dragged him away from the car, not bothering to be gentle. He kicked and pushed on the ground, and although he was bony as hell the guy was tall and desperate, and Tim was forced to kick him down on the ground and draw his gun. He hadn’t wanted to draw the gun - they never fought and kicked and snarled and bit with the gun - but he wasn’t taking any chances here.

“I want you to know,” Tim said, friendly and warm, “that I’m doing this because I made a promise. On my badge and on my life, I protect the innocent from predators. I defend society from threats. There’s a corruption in the world, a sick and rotting infection, and it’s my job to tear it out. But I get no joy from this, okay?” He didn’t know why it was important that the monster knew that. It wasn’t like he was going to hold a grudge. The monster tried to sit up, but Tim kicked him again until he hit the ground again. Tim hated how he was shorter than him when they both were standing. He wanted to look down on him for once.

The monster was always looking down on him. With his little girl gang and his bestest buddies. With that - that moral superiority. He thought he was so smart and popular. Just because he could rip someone’s deepest secrets out of someone, he thought he was better. Just because he knew Tim’s worst fear, he thought that he had power over Tim.

Nobody did. Nobody had power over Tim. Not anymore.

“But you,” Tim hissed, “you, out of everyone I’ve ever killed - I’m going to enjoy you. You’ve crept into the lives of all those humans. You even got fucking Sasha telling me you’re not all bad. Is that what you do? Convince everybody around you that you’re a good person, when you’re a piece of shit inside?” His hand was trembling on his gun - that wasn’t in the script. Why was that happening? “Well, guess what. No matter how great you think you are, you will always be a monster.”

The handle of Tim’s gun was coated in sweat, making his trembling hand slide. Why? The gasoline and lighter were standing by his feet, ready to burn the body. His heart was thumping in his chest, not from anticipation and thrill - why? Why? Why?

“Tim, no!”

Tim, so focused on what he was doing, jerked so hard he almost fired the gun. He whipped around to the source of the voice, and found to his shock a familiar car and a familiar woman standing by it, face set in a fierce determination.

It was Sasha. Somehow, the sight of her was deeply wrong to Tim. She shouldn’t be here. Sasha should never see this. She knew, she had helped - always the finger pointing in the direction to unleash Tim - but she shouldn’t see it. He knew it wasn’t real to her, what he did.

“Sash,” Tim said weakly, hand drooping.

Jon screamed from behind his gag. He might have been calling for help.

“Put the gun down,” Sasha said coldly. She was just dressed in jeans and a messy t-shirt, as if she had come here in a great hurry. How had she kno - okay, Sasha knew everything, it was no surprise.

“Why? Sasha, what are you doing here?” Tim cried, in genuine confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that Jon is innocent of everything!” Sasha yelled, and Tim almost flinched back. “He didn’t kill Gertrude, he doesn’t know anything about what’s going on! Trust me, Jon and his team have nothing to do with any of this!”

“He’s a fucking demon, Sash,” Tim said incredulously. How could she take his side? How? “Don’t you remember what he did to me? How can you forgive that?”

“You’re not a saint either!” Sasha screamed - the first time Tim had ever heard her scream at him. He couldn’t believe this was happening. How had he lost control of the situation so badly? “If you kill him you will break his team.”

As if a single coworker nobody dying will upset anybody. “And how long until he attacks or kills his team?” Tim asked furiously. “They’re the biggest bitches I’ve ever met, but they’re human. Monsters hurt humans, Sasha. It’s in their nature. How long until he hurts someone else? How long until he hurts you?”

“If you kill him,” Sasha said, quiet and strangled and hurt, “I will never forgive you.”

Nobody had power over him - nobody, perhaps, save Sasha. She held his heart in his hands, ready at a moment’s cue to crush it or rip it out of him. He couldn’t bear her disapproving face, her quiet disappointment. If she didn’t love him, if she took that away - he wouldn’t have anything. Nothing would be left. He had to protect that love, protect her.

“Sasha,” Tim said weakly, “out of everybody, I thought you would understand.”

“I do. I’m the only one who will ever understand. That’s why you have to trust me.”

Maye that was the problem. Tim did. She was the only person he had ever trusted.

Tim flicked the safety, and dropped the gun.

Just to make himself feel better, he bent his leg back to kick Jon, but - but, for some reason, he didn’t. It just seemed so tiresome. What was the point? What was the point of any of this?

The point had always been to protect humans from the monsters. To protect Sasha. But Sasha didn’t want his help. What did he have now?

“Take him back to his house,” Tim said dully. He glared fiercely at Jon, whose face was falling in relief. “If you tell the police about this, nobody will believe you and nobody will care. If you tell anybody else about this, I’ll find you again and beat you half to death. Got it?”

Jon nodded fervently.

After that, it was all a blur. Sasha helped him up, took him to her car, and he saw her cut through his restraints once he was safely inside. Tim just gathered up his materials and dumped them in the trunk of his car, sliding into the driver’s seat and gunning the engine.

He drove home in a depressed haze, feeling worthless, feeling powerless, feeling exactly like Jon always made him feel.

His hands clenched on the steering wheel. If Jon didn’t know shit about what was going on - and Tim believed that, guy was fucking stupid - then who did? If Jon hadn’t turned into a monster on purpose, then who had turned him into a monster?

Elias Bouchard always gave Tim a bad feeling.

He’d collect some evidence. Give it a few weeks, then confront him. Bouchard would bend and crack. Then Tim would be free. Free of the Magnus Institute, free of how it made him feel.

He roared towards home, unsatisfied and angry, still afraid.

iii.

“Can you pass the rice?”

Tim silently passed Mom the bowl, staring intently at his own plate and silently shovelling potatoes in his mouth. Dad was doing his usual thing and just kind of squinting at his plate and chewing like a cow with cud. Danny was, from the outside, eating food like a normal person. Tim knew that he was vibrating with anticipation.

“So,” Mom continued, faux-brightly, “it’s been a while since you boys came home. Too good for your old folks, huh?”

The passive aggressive route - deal with the criticism, but if you bit back then it was ‘just a joke’. Favored tactic of Ha-eun Stoker.

“Sorry, Mom,” Danny said, one arm thrown over the back of his chair, utterly unrepentant, “work’s been hell lately. Big case came in, and if I want to be promoted to junior partner…”

Sure enough, Mom brightened right up. “Really! Tell us all about your case, Danny!”

Then they were off. Tim zoned out, blankly spooning gamja jorim into his mouth as Danny endlessly rattled off about his accomplishments and Mom cooed and aah’d relentlessly. Dad just chewed, occasionally grunting in satisfaction and approval.

Wow, the coveted paternal approval. Way to make them all jump through hoops for it. Tim rolled his eyes.

Unfortunately, he was caught. Mom turned her piercing gaze on him, smiling pleasantly with perfect teeth. Of course they were perfect; she had work done. All of the other women in the neighborhood do it, Tim, we should fit in. Oh, this necklace is just so in style, I saw Ms. Wallace down the street wearing it. Fucking lemming.

“What about you, Tim?” Mom asked. “How’s work going? Normally you’d be telling us all about your big arrests.”

Ah. The reason why Tim had done everything possible to avoid family dinner. They had this once a month, the only time they could all be assed to talk to each other, and Tim had jumped through hoops to try and escape.

Danny didn’t let him. This was way too entertaining to him.

He knew. Tim didn’t know how, but that was irrelevant. Danny always knew. He couldn’t lie and make up some case. Tim took a careful sip of his dak gomtang, stalling.

Finally, he said, “I took a new job, actually.”

Dad looked up from his plate. Mom’s jaw dropped.

“But you loved your job,” Mom said, for all appearances broken-hearted. “What happened?”

Danny leaned back in his chair, hands folded behind his head, grinning. “Yeah, brother. You loved that job, you’d never quit. What happened?”

“My work partner was caught and forced to sign an employment contract by a middle management stoner, blackmailing me into working with her so I wouldn’t get arrested by the police for my dozen murders.”

Everybody stared at him. Tim sipped some water.

“That isn’t very funny, Timothy,” Mom said.

God, these people were so serious. In the stupidest second of his entire stupid life, he missed the Archive team just a little bit. At least they had a sense of humor. He’d never known those bitches to take anything seriously. But even when they were literally engaging in cult-level shunning of him and Sasha, they were always together. What was with homos and that gay found family shit?

“Kidding. I don’t know, Mom, I was just going stir-crazy. Being a copper just felt like such a dead-end job.”

“But you said you were on track for Lieutenant,” Mom gasped. “How could you throw that away?”

“I don’t know, Mom,” Danny said, shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “I don’t think Tim would quit his job voluntarily.”

Mom’s jaw dropped. “You were fired?”

Tim was too dead inside for this. “Sure. I’m a librarian now. It doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter?” Mom positively screeched. “What am I supposed to tell Mrs. Walker now? That my son’s not on track to Lieutenant, that he was fired? I’ve never been so ashamed of you. You’re going to make me a laughingstock, Tim. In all my life, you’ve never once cared about how your actions affected me. Let me tell you right now that this is disgraceful. You’re a grown man, and you’re still acting like a child who blah blah blah. Tim’s a disappointment and we hate him blah blah. How could I have raised such a lazy yammer yammer yammer. I only pay attention to you when I’m yelling at you and I’m totally in the right because Rachel Granger said that yada yada -”

“Well, this was fun,” Tim said pleasantly, wiping his mouth with a napkin before balling it and tossing on the table. He put his chopsticks down and stood up, dusting off his hands. “Great to see all of you again, so much fun, but I have a cat to go iron.”

But Dad was staring at him, even when Mom was fuming in rage. In Korean, he said, “You’re disrespecting your mother, Ji-hoon.”

“For god’s sake, Richard, we speak English in this house. His name’s Timothy,” Mom snapped. Danny rolled his eyes.

“Why not?” Tim asked in Korean, just to piss off Mom. Basira would have sneered at her respectability politics. Melanie would have lost her temper an hour - no, thirty years ago. Why were they stronger than Tim? “You don’t respect her.”

Almost silently, Danny whistled.

“Timothy,” Mother started, scandalized, “listen to your -”

“Why? What can she say to me, besides the same shit I’ve been hearing my entire life? She’s not saying anything interesting.” Tim smiled brightly at his family, flashing all of his teeth. “You know what? In comparison with my life lately, you three are pretty fucking boring. Bye.”

That was when his mother burst into tears, and his father started yelling at him at the top of his voice and thumping the table until the dishes rattled, and when Danny started laughing. If they did anything else, if Dad was about to get out of his chair and smack him, if Mom was going to disown him, Tim didn’t wait around to see it. He grabbed his bomber jacket and stalked out the door, letting it fall behind him.

He breathed heavily on the pretty little sidewalk in front of their pretty little house. The pretty little roses in the pretty little garden bloomed perfectly, and their thorns were all cut off. Down the street pretty little houses made of ticky tacky loomed, and they were all within HOA compliance in their gated little community. Nobody in. Nobody out.

When he was fifteen, Tim hated it because his parents were always trying to impose normalacy on him and he had never fucking measured up. When he was a young adult, he had hated it because he had fancied himself a gritty, street-wise cop who grappled with the dregs of society and always came out victorious. The perfect little families here thought that their gates could protect them from the cold and hard outside world - but the monsters in the world lived and breeded in their backyards, and they were too busy trimming their lawns to notice.

He should go home. It was late, and he had his ridiculous, evil, gloriously imperfect job tomorrow. God, Melanie would hate this place. She would sneer at him for ever having lived here, chalking it up with his infinite list of sins. All you pigs are the same, she would nag, privileged and sheltered. Bitch. Why was she always right?

But Tim just couldn’t work up the energy to drive all the way home. His heart felt scooped out with a grapefruit spoon. Instead he stumbled into the little alley next to the house, where the garbage trucks and the alley cats roamed, and he collapsed into a little patch of scrubby grass. This had been his favorite place to sulk as a child. Or hide from Danny. Danny always found him, of course, but it was the principle of the matter -

“Man, I can’t believe I got that show for free. You should have charged, Ji-hoon.”

“Fuck off, Danny,” Tim said, tone dull with how rote the phrase was.

When he glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Danny was dappled in night. The only light was from the streetlights, and the lights of their porch. In the dim lighting, Danny was lit by a bright aura but his features were hidden in the dark. Like an angel, Danny shone, and like a devil, Tim hid in the shadows. Hidden in the corner, like a powerless child.

“It’s a compliment! Normally you’re the most boring, predictable bitch alive. Wind your key and watch you go. But not even I could have predicted the shit you pulled today. Fantastic.” Danny grinned, a slash of the mouth. “You’re dead disowned, buddy. You crossed a line. They’ll never forgive you.”

“Fuck off, Danny.”

“I’m looking forward to being an only child,” Danny mused. “Mom and Dad were always so obsessed with you, it’ll be nice to have them all to myself. When I make junior partner, do you think Dad will clap me on the back? Give me a hug?” He affected a sad look, pulling his face into a mockery of tragedy. “I’m really going to miss you. You always lowered the bar for me.”

“Fuck off, Danny.”

Apparently that was one ‘fuck off’ too many, because Danny kicked Tim in the ribs. He always knew exactly where to hit - right in an old scar in the ribs, a bullet wound that he had never told him about. Tim wheezed, but he didn’t move. No point.

In a brief, strange flash of memory, Tim remembered bending his knee back to kick Jon in the stomach. Jon hadn’t flinched. Had there been no point?

“I know you spent your entire sad little childhood thinking I ruined your life. That’s bullshit and you know it. You didn’t need anyone else to ruin your life, Timbo. You’ve always been good enough at that yourself.” He pulled a faux-surprised face. Every expression Danny ever had was fake. Everything was a mask, plastic and fake. “Even your relationships, right? How’s that Mexican bird you got following you around? She still refusing to fuck you? I should pick her up, I bet she’s real easy -”

Tim saw red.

It was easy, in the end. Maybe too easy. He leapt up, in one easy and smooth motion, and tackled Danny to the ground. Tim had always been bigger but Danny had always been stronger, no matter how long Tim spent at the gym, but that didn’t matter now. Tim was faintly aware he was snarling as Danny hit the ground hard, head bouncing on the grass.

There was no time for him to recover. Tim punched him in the face, keeping him down, before punching him again. He felt bone break under his fist. A nose.

He didn’t remember anything after that. Everything fuzzed out a little, trapped in the swirling of his rage and the thump of his heartbeat. It wasn’t Martin’s anger, it wasn’t Sasha’s cold chase. It was just hatred.

It wasn’t that - that thing inside Tim, the thing he had spent years denying. It was just Tim. Or maybe Tim was that thing, and that thing was Tim.

He was faintly aware that somebody was grabbing him by the elbows, pulling him off. There was screaming. Wailing. He couldn’t really tell. Tim was dizzy, hands wet and sticky. Someone was crying - the nauseatingly familiar sound of his mother sobbing.

Just boys roughhousing, Tim wanted to say. That was a good line, snappy and sarcastic. Just boys being boys, the same line he had heard time after time after time when Danny coated his entire torso in bruises. Monsters, acting like monsters. Men, doing what men always do.

Tim left the scene. He wouldn’t be back. Never return to the scene of the crime, ha ha ha. He wouldn’t be welcome back. It should have felt crushing, isolating, terrifying.

But instead, Tim just felt free. As if a crushing weight had fallen off his shoulders, and he no longer felt suffocated by endless picking and prodding and pushing. It...he didn’t feel scared.

Tim walked down the street, taking the long way home, whistling happily. He hated himself a little bit less than usual tonight. Things were looking up.

iv.

Tim stared at Melanie as she slept.

It wasn’t hard. They kept the lights on, although after a few days Melanie had started to use a sleeping mask. She had recovered from what happened fairly quickly. She still let him keep his arm on her.

It tingled, just a little, where it touched her. She was warm and soft, breathing softly in a gentle rise and fall of her chest. Her face was slack with sleep. No nightmares. Melanie only looked gentle when she was asleep: any other time, her face was screwed up in intent thought or a mean comment or an exaggerated face made behind someone’s back.

It was the first time Tim had slept in the same bed as a woman without sleeping with her. At Sasha’s, he always slept on the couch. It was a little weird. It was really weird. He kept on telling himself to pull away, to rebuild that bridge that had been so effortless with Sasha, to act normal and stop being desperate and needy.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Every time he let go of her, he was alone. No matter how many people surrounded them, no matter how big the room or busy the sprawling London streets, when she was out of the room it felt as if she would never come back.

He hated the way he felt. It was disgusting, crawling in his gut and heart like rot. He hated himself for feeling it, he hated the world for doing it to him, and he hated Melanie for making him feel this way.

He didn’t know love could be this painful.

***

Did he love her?

Tim was fairly sure he couldn’t love anybody. Whatever he felt for Sasha, it couldn’t be love. It could only be a selfish, disgusting poison. Or maybe he really did love her, and love really was poison - if it was the kind of love Tim felt for other people, if it was all he could give.

But Tim knew Sasha, down to her soul. He knew her dark secrets, every skeleton in her closet. He knew what she was running from, why she had landed in England and never left, why she felt just as passionately for Tim’s crusade for justice as he did.

Justice. What a joke.

But Melanie wasn’t like that. She was rough and bitchy and meddling and willfully idiotic, but if you scratched that surface she was perfect. Kind, understanding, forgiving, patient, supportive - the kind of girl Tim had always wanted. Not that Sasha hadn’t been - but Sasha was somebody he should probably stay away from, for her own good.

Melanie had saved him. Melanie was trying to fix him, and she wouldn’t stop until she did. She wouldn’t give up - she never gave up on anything or anyone. Even Tim. Maybe, if it was her, Tim could be fixed.

He squinted at her in the soft lights keeping away the dark lingering in the small windows. Did he want to kiss her? He should, right? Any emotion this strong, anything that made him feel so vulnerable and desperate and insane had to come with wanting to be with her. Not that she could ever like him that way back…

The idea was oddly nice. Men and women couldn’t be friends. But maybe Tim and Melanie could - Melanie, who would never love him in that way, freeing Tim of the obligation to reciprocate.

He settled a little bit more, tucking her a little bit closer under him until he could no longer see her face. The idea was heady - that she was letting him do that, that she could be open and vulnerable in front of him too. That Tim had never really protected anybody, that Melanie was the first person to ever protect him, and that maybe he could pay that back.

Maybe she could fix him. Give him love that was pure instead of corrupted; selfless instead of selfish. Tim needed her.

He tried not to hate it.

***

That night, Tim had a dream that he was fucking Melanie in his old bed in his old flat. Danny was there, somehow, constantly mocking Tim on how badly he was doing, and every time Tim would yell at him to get out he would just laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh -

***

Melanie dragged him to work with her the next morning, as Tim chugged a shitton of coffee and considered braining himself with a hammer so he could forget the dream he had last night. He would literally prefer the construction site nightmares. He could barely meet her eyes, and lived in relentless paranoia that somehow she knew and was going to call him disgusting which would be fair and true and -

“Do you think the old man in Home Alone is a Jesus allegory?”

Tim blinked blearily at her, still chugging his coffee. They had gotten his car keys and car back from Sasha - she still had everything he ever owned, but he didn’t want to deal with that - but Melanie was driving, since Tim’s reaction time wasn’t that good anymore and he tended to zone out. They would take the tube and avoid London traffic except, well…

“I have no opinions on Home Alone,” Tim said blankly. He had been reading Thus Spoke Zarathustra on his phone. So far he had several points of disagreement, his largest was the man’s weird obsession with atheism. Granted, it was hard to be a nihilist and be religious, but Tim had insider information on the nature of the universe and he was working on a thesis - anyway. Anyway. “Why?”

“It’s a good movie, right? We should watch it for movie night tonight.”

“I thought you wanted to watch T2 today.”

“Aw, fuck, right.” Melanie slightly slapped the steering wheel. They didn’t move - traffic was really hell. “I am a slut for fictionalized violence. Isn’t Sarah Connor the most badass action hero ever?”

“She’s awesome,” Tim agreed warmly. “But Schwarzenneger in that movie is just peak. Have you ever seen Predator? It was his best role.”

Melanie snorted. “Predator was so boring. Just a lot of oiled up men flexing at each other.”

Typical. Tim rolled his eyes, propping an elbow below the window, but he found himself smiling anyway. “What do you want me to watch instead, Blue is the Warmest Color?”

“Laugh all you want, idiot. You’re getting the whole rota of required watching for gay people. First on the list is the Birdcage, then right after that Paris is Burning -”

Tim groaned theatrically, drowning her out, but all that did was hit him with the musk of his small, battered car. The smell of Melanie hit him like a truck - her Melon shampoo, her 24 hour deodorant, the dust of the Archives, something unique to her that he just couldn’t place.

To Tim’s horror, the scent pulled at that deep pit in his stomach. Don’t think about it. Don’t tell anyone. Don’t let them know - except for Sasha, who always knew. It made him want to do - stuff that he didn’t want to do. Not really. Tim didn’t want that. Whoever Tim was.

Counterintuitively, the hunger made it easier to keep that fake smile and forced manic energy when they got to the office. He wasn’t really up to it today - some days were easier than others - but that didn’t really matter when he had to aggressively convince everybody that he was fine. The alternative was everybody giving him sad and pitying looks, which was a thousand times worse than any infernal hell torture.

It wasn’t. But he still didn’t want to deal with it.

So he kicked the door open, yelled something meaningless about how the bitch was back, and let Basira ignore him and Martin roll his eyes and Sasha very pointedly ignore him. He noted that Daisy wasn’t in this morning - ever since their planning session, she had been dropping by more frequently to flirt obnoxiously with Basira, but she obviously couldn’t spend all of her time here if she wanted to keep up the pretense with Peter Lukas.

Which was...somewhat of a relief.

Tim collapsed in what used to be Daisy’s chair at her desk, which was for far more important reasons than just because he didn’t want to sit next to Sasha. The upside is that Melanie sat diagonal from him, across from Basira, who didn’t give a shit what he did if she wasn’t using him as a meaningless sounding board for her constant venting. It wasn’t all bad, if he didn’t look too hard at whatever the fuck Martin was doing at any given time.

So he swiveled in his chair as Melanie, Basira, and Sasha disappeared into the library. He stood up to go with her, but Melanie made a gesture that sent him sitting down again. Martin, who was writing something ornate in his journal, snickered.

Six months ago Tim would have snapped at him, but instead he just leaned back in his chair and squeezed his grip trainer. The grind never stopped. “Writing love poetry, buddy? In the Romantic tradition or the...fuck, I don’t know any other poets.”

Martin silently held up his journal. The only thing written was ‘murder kill murder’, repeatedly, up and down two pages.

Well. That was enough teasing Martin for one day. He really had no idea how Melanie was brave enough to get Martin to listen to listen to her - or, worse, why he did.

After an hour or so, spent reading Plato and disagreeing with a great deal, Jon slunk out of his office and blinked owlishly at both Tim and Martin, who had been politely minding their own business.

Tim realized - in the same way that, whenever he saw Jon, he was inescapably reminded that he knew what he looked like when he was about to die - that the room was filled with two guys who had tried repeatedly to kill him. Fuck, he was probably uncomfortable. Good job, Tim. Way to keep terrorizing people. But he really wasn’t capable of doing anything else, so it was hardly a surprise -

“Hullo, Martin. I’m picking up some food from the vending machine, do you want anything?”

Oh. They were going for ‘disturbingly banal’ today. Martin smiled shyly at Jon, who blushed in response. “Surprise me. Thanks, Jon.”

“Want any razor blades in the apples?”

“You know that’s a myth, Jon,” Martin said disapprovingly. Or maybe not.

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“You are the sexiest guy I’ve ever met,” Martin whispered.

Then Jon flushed, and leaned casually in what he probably thought was a hot pose and unfortunately totally was against Martin’s desk, and Tim was subjected to their absolutely fucking atrocious flirting for the next ten minutes. At that point, Tim found his breaking point and left the Archives, the terror of being in semi-public outweighed by the terror of Jonmartin. That was what Basira and Melanie kept calling it. He really didn’t know what that meant, but whatever.

But after fifteen minutes of standing in front of the vending machine himself, quietly overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of choices and colors and flavors and sugar, he heard someone else approaching. He snapped his head to the left to see a gawky, hunched scarecrow slouch down the hall, raising a hand apologetically. That man put no effort into his appearance, how as he still that hot -

Maybe Jon and Martin were normal, Tim secretly wondered, and Tim just didn’t understand gay courting rituals. He had to find out, right? How do you flirt with guys? It wasn’t as if he could practice with the two guys in the office. Especially Martin. Tim had never really paid a lot of attention to him before he came back to life, writing him off as a beta male - which ended up being so hilariously incorrect it forced Tim to sit down and reconsider his entire framework of alpha and beta males. Melanie had given him a sticker.

“Uh. Hey.”

Tim stared at him blankly.

Jon rubbed the back of his neck. “How...are you?”

Tim blinked at him.

“Well. I would, er, enjoy using the vending machine.”

Oh. Obviously. Tim stepped aside, cheeks burning, and silently let Jon punch in the code for a Mars Bar (for Martin, probably) and a granola bar (because an alarm went off on his desk if he didn’t eat a snack at 3pm).

It wasn’t their first time being alone together since he came back, but as Tim had been more or less catatonic at that period in time he was inclined not to count that. Jon hadn’t seemed scared, anyway. Probably. Tim hadn’t paid much attention.

He should do this. He had to do it. It was all about making up for the shit he did, right? He had to face this. Then Jon would forgive him, not that he had to, and - and something vaguely good would happen. He would find that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, and the hunger would go away, and the intrusive thoughts would be all gone. Melanie would give him another sticker. Or something.

“You can go for it, you know.”

Jon whipped his head around, shocked at Tim addressing him directly for the first time in a very long time. “What?”

Idiot. If this guy had been in a single fight in his life, he’d eat his hat. From what Jon had seen of his childhood friend, Georgie’s girlfriend who he hated for absolutely no reason, she had probably defended him from every bully. It was almost cute.

“You can get a good one in,” Tim repeated slowly. He turned his cheek. “Promise I won’t punch back or anything.”

“I - do you mean punch you?” The Mars Bar rattled down the machine, dropping heavily into the tray. “Why would I do that?”

Jesus, the guy was thick. “Do you remember when I kidnapped and tried to kill you, or is that just me?”

Jon blinked owlishly at him. “Lots of people try to kill me.”

“Don’t you want to?” Tim cried, a little bit higher and a little bit louder than he intended. “Come on, as if you’ve never wanted to do it? Wouldn’t it help? You got in a week of being a passive aggressive asshole, that isn’t enough. It doesn’t make up for anything. This would.”

“How would that fix anything?”

Tim’s breath hitched. But Jon was just staring, as if he could see right through him. Maybe he could. “What?”

“How would hurting you make me feel better?” Jon repeated slowly. “It won’t change what happened. Punching you wouldn’t change what you did to me. All it would do is make you feel better, as if that fixes it. It doesn’t. Is that how you solve all of your problems? That explains a lot.”

His breath was coming faster, hitching again. He couldn’t control it. “I’m trying to do you a favor, asshole.”

“No, you’re trying to make yourself feel better.” Jon smiled politely and, before Tim could jerk away, clapped him on the shoulder. “I forgave you a long time ago. Not because of you. But I just didn’t want it hanging over me. I gave myself closure and moved on. Sometimes bad things happen to us, and we have to get up the next day and go to work anyway. My friends helped. My family did too. I’m sorry you don’t have that, Tim. You’ll get closure one day.” Jon looked thoughtful for a second. “I mean, getting closure about being almost killed one time must be a lot easier than dealing with the fact that you killed fifteen people in your life? Twice that supernatural people, I think. You know you’re technically a serial killer? I won’t judge, this is a safe space, but I thought you ought to know.”

Somehow, inanely, all Tim could think of to say was, “It’s not serial killing if it’s part of your job.”

“Which is why I’m sure you took that job,” Jon said brightly. “Let’s get back to the office before Martin decides to amuse himself.”

For a second, just for a second - or two, or ten, or a minute - Tim vividly imagined himself ripping Jon’s throat out. Killing him properly this time, putting that look on his face again. It had felt so good, and - and it had made him feel so bad, but that felt good too, and he still didn’t know why, and he wanted to eat Jon so bad. Jon, who was innocent in everything, gentle and kind. Nothing like Tim. That was why everybody liked Jon and hated Tim.

From what he had heard, while Tim was going insane hyperfixating on the chase a few years ago, the girls had spent ages talking Jon down from a breakdown and steering him away from the same path that Tim had barrelled down. Who had done that for him? Sasha made a big show of keeping his head level, but she had used him just as ruthlessly as he had used her. She never had an investment in keeping him sane; just functional.

If somebody had done that for him, would he still be cruel?

They went back to the office, and Tim pretending that the hunger swirling in his gut was just self-hatred. But, then again, they really were the same thing.

When Melanie came out of the library with Basira and Sasha on her heels, talking quietly about some new scheme they were cooking up, Tim found himself reaching out to her. Melanie smiled and squeezed his hand, before gently heckling his choice in literature.

Some stupid part of him - maybe even a large part - thought that once he was clasping Melanie’s hand again, the hunger would quiet down. It had protected him underground, it felt as if it should protect him in the world above.

But it didn’t, and it didn’t solve anything, and Tim tried not to think about the fact that he was slowly unwinding, and that he didn’t want to see what was inside him when everything that was Tim Stoker fell away.

***

A short yet tumultuous time later, Tim was called into Jon’s office.

He hadn’t wanted to come to work. But the alternative of stewing at home - Melanie’s flat - was much worse, and Basira had reported that too many skip days made them all way too sick. Might as well come in. Melanie had spent the night at Georgie’s - like she had the past two days, what a fucking coincidence - so he didn’t have to worry about that awkwardness.

After too long memorizing the face after too many sleepless nights, Tim could imagine it vividly. Soft, uncreased, innocent of how hard the world could be. Tim couldn’t bear it. He had to ruin it. He just couldn’t bear it.

He was the first one in the office, so it was easy to see the poisonous death glare Basira shot him when she walked in. So Melanie had told them - of course she fucking told them, she hadn’t done anything wrong, she wasn’t obliged to lie. Daisy was hot on her heels, and she actually properly snarled at him before Basira pulled her back while somehow giving the full impression that she wanted to do the same thing.

He should probably go hide in the library before Martin came in. He couldn’t decide whether or not this was worse than the shunning. The shunning had driven him absolutely crazy, but at least he hadn’t been legitimately afraid that Martin would stab him and that nobody would stop him.

There was the faint sound of raised voices in the cowpen. Tim knew that they were arguing about him. He already knew what they would decide - wait for Melanie’s verdict. But are you sure she isn’t too close to this? No, she knows the fucker better than anybody else, she would judge if they needed to do anything. What are we going to tell Sasha? The truth, fucking obviously.

Sasha. Tim wanted her to be surprised. He knew she wouldn’t be. That hurt more.

After what felt like an infinite amount of time but he knew was only a few hours, pouring over Sasha’s collection of Vast and Spiral Statements, he heard the library door open. It was Jon, standing at the threshold, and all Tim could think was - oh, man, here we go.

It was a regular walk of shame into Jon’s office, and he couldn’t miss the way everybody’s heads snapped to look at him. Sasha, just as he thought, looked resigned. Melanie was frowning.

Jon’s office was the same as ever, not that Jon went in too frequently. The only strange thing about it was that Jon locked the door behind him. Tim didn’t know what that boded, but it wasn’t good.

Well, might as well take control of the situation. He collapsed on the chair in front of his desk and propped his boots on Jon’s desk, wishing he had a drink to obnoxiously sip. “Is this the part where you threaten me?” He affected a fake baritone, somehow still not even hitting Jon’s register. “ ‘Touch her again and you’ll answer to me’. ‘Stay away from her or you’ll face the consequences’. Come on, I’ve read a thousand creeps the same riot act. Get it over with.”

Jon sat down heavily in his office chair. The office had chipped in to buy him a new one as a birthday gift, much more comfortable than the old one. But he was leaning forward now, arms folded on the desk.

“Would that make you feel better?”

Great, this again. “Yeah, it evokes the emotionally absent father I was raised with,” Tim snarked. “If you aren’t going to say it, what am I in here for?”

He was afraid to know what he was in here for. Melanie had told him that if he did it again, she’d sic Jon on him. And Tim knew what it looked like when Jon was sicced on someone. This wasn’t it.

“Tim,” Jon said seriously, and he was somehow kind about it. “You know what this looks like, right?”

Something ugly and ashamed twisted in Tim’s gut. He fought the urge to sink in his seat. “Yeah.”

“You know why we’re worried now.”

“Yeah, I know.” Tim looked fixedly at the wall, unwilling to meet Jon’s eyes. “I - I’m not going to do it again. I swear. And - and it wasn’t like that. I promise. I’m not - I’m not a creep, okay? Ask Sasha. I’ve never - I’ve killed people, but that’s not nearly as bad as - I’m not going to do it again. It was a mistake.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Tim’s head snapped back to Jon, and before he could think about it he found himself half-rising from the chair. Jon’s cold stare had him sitting back down again, but his heart was thumping a drum in his chest. “Then what do you want?” Tim just barely restrained himself from yelling, knowing that the girls were probably listening at the door anyway. “What can I do to convince you that’d rather chop off my own hand than hurt her?”

“You can give your permission to let me ask you some questions.”

Tim faltered. “What? Just questions?”

“Uh.” Jon waved his hand in a circle in the air, as if that meant anything. “You know. Questions. I haven’t really done it since - since I think I did it to you? But I think I can do it on command now. I don’t like to.” His eyes sharpened, and for a second Tim could have sworn that they glimmered. “But I can’t take a chance. Not on this.”

It was like he was falling again, through that infinite void that was the last taste of freedom he had thought he would ever have. It was like he was suffocating again, a mile of dirt piled on his chest, banging incessantly at the lid of the coffin. Nobody saved him, until she did. He was distantly aware that he was barely holding back hyperventilating, but all Tim could feel was dissociated horror.

“You - you can’t. Jon, I - I won’t do it again, you can’t.”

Jon’s mouth twisted into a frown. “I won’t if you give me a flat no. I don’t like doing it.” That was a lie and they both fucking knew it. “But if you don’t, we can’t trust you again. We’d convince Melanie to let you stay with Martin. We wouldn’t leave you in the same room together. You’re not stable, Tim. It’s obvious. We thought it was harmless - or, at least, the only person you were hurting was yourself - but it’s not anymore. We’re all scared. I don’t want to hurt you just because we’re scared, but Melanie is the only one here who couldn’t really defend herself if you decided to do anything else to her.” He grimaced slightly. “Not that she admits it. She always puts herself between us and any enemy. But we have to pay that back. I know you understand.”

He did.

Hate burned in his stomach. What a hypocrite. Giving all of that big talk about choice and options. He knew that there was no option, not if they were going to rip him apart from the one person who he felt safe with.

The one person who wasn’t safe with him.

Tim deserved this. Even if it had been his worst fear a year ago - well, Tim had experienced much worse than that since then.

When you did shit to other people, you make up for it. You make sure that you can’t hurt anybody else again. Jon was right - gestures didn’t mean anything. He had to commit. He had to improve, be better. Otherwise he’d be sent straight back down to that place when he died, and there would be no saving him.

“Yeah,” Tim said, mouth dry, “you can do it. But - but no personal questions this time, okay? Just stick to the subject.”

“They seem to always end up a bit personal,” Jon said apologetically, “but I’ll try.”

Deep within Jon, inside of the unassuming and kind and gentle man, the subject of Tim’s nightmares rose. His eyes flashed green, then shined with a bright and sickly radioactive green. His hair strained against its bun and fuzzed at the end, but it didn’t break free.

“What’s your name, Tim?”

The worst part about the compelling, Tim had decided long ago, was that you didn’t feel brainwashed.

You felt exactly as if you were talking normally, that there was nothing strange about Jon or you. His words didn’t ring with a mysterious power. If you had entered it thinking you were talking of your own volition, you probably wouldn’t notice. But if you knew what was happening, the curtain was lifted, and you were deathly aware of the way the words were ripped out of you with fishhooks. It left Tim gasping, straining for air.

“Timothy Ji-hoon Stoker,” Tim said, and it was almost as if he wanted to. “My dad just calls me Ji-hoon though. So do my grandparents. My last name’s made up as fuck - I think Mom just saw a book at the airport and picked it out from the cover. Kind of ironic, considering everything.”

“Oh, really? Daisy says that she got Tonner because her English wasn’t great and she misheard someone at the airport asking her for a tenner - right, right.” Jon coughed. Wait, was the reason why Daisy barely talked when he first met her was because her English was bad? “On topic. Tim, do you want to attack Melanie again?”

“Of course not,” Tim burst out, and these words, at least, came easy. “I love her. I hate hurting her, I hate how I’m constantly fucking up and doing it anyway. I’m just violent and I don’t know how not to be violent. It’s the only way I deal with things, being violent, and I know it’s eating me up inside but I just can’t stop it. But if there’s one person who can help me stop, it’s Melanie. She’s going to fix me, I know it.”

The words were unbelievably humiliating, the kind of thing that Tim had never wanted to admit, but Jon’s expression didn’t change. Tim wanted to look away, to pretend that this was just an internal narration and that he wasn’t telling this his fucking coworker, but he found himself incapable. Their gazes locked, and Tim couldn’t pull away.

“Why did you do it?”

“Because I was scared, and I hate being scared so much. It’s what I always do, ever since I was a kid - I would get scared, and I would try to hurt something or someone about it. I did it to you, I was so scared of you that I obsessed about killing you and covered it up with some bullshit about justice or Sasha. It was just about me, it’s always been selfish. But - but- but -” The words were sticking in his throat, coagulating on the wound ripped open by Jon and his fishhooks. “But I hate her. I hate that I care, and I hate that I need her, and - and I don’t think I did it just because I was scared. I think I did it because I was scared, and I love her, and I hate her, and I’m beginning to think I have some kind of weird complex about women because of my mother’s overly dependent narcissistic personality and my father’s emotional detachment -”

“You just now figured that out?” Jon asked incredulously. “Sorry, you just now started realizing that your toxic masculinity controls your entire justification for your actions?”

“I’ve known for a while but I’ve been repressing it,” Tim said hurriedly, forced to answer that one despite Jon probably intending it as a rhetorical question.

Jon stared at him for a second silently, giving Tim time to catch his breath and try to control his breathing. He was one bad step away from a panic attack, and his hold was still clenched on this throat like a fist. Danny had done that to him one time, the son of a bitch, and he had never forgotten. Should he tell Jon that? Does he have to?

“Tim,” Jon said finally. He looked very uncomfortable, but also resolute. As if he didn’t want to ask, or maybe he just didn’t want to know, but he felt as if he had to. “Are you in love with Melanie?”

Tim opened his mouth to answer him, and found that he couldn’t.

The strange and evil magic didn’t like that. Whatever Tim wanted to say, if there was anything to say, it caught in his throat and made him gag. It choked him. He was well acquainted with the feeling, but it sent him into a panic anyway. His breath started shuddering and heaving, his vision swimming, and he kept on answering his mouth to answer because you have to answer but he couldn’t, he just couldn’t, he didn’t know how -

“Forget it! Forget it, Tim, don’t worry about it! Tim, what’s your favorite color? Tim, your favorite color! Answer me!”

“Grey!” Tim cried out. “Grey, it’s grey!”

He didn’t so much stand up from his chair as fall out of it. He didn’t so much let himself sit on the ground as found himself incapable of moving. He just breathed, waiting and waiting to spit up dirt and grime and rocks, but nothing happened. It was just a panic attack, because his hell was within him, and there was no escape.

No escape. There was no escape. Not from what he’d done in his past, not from how badly he’d hurt Melanie and Sasha, not from how he would inevitably hurt them in the future.

You had to cut out the evil things in this world. One bad apple spoils the bunch. When criminals are left to run wild, they corrupt and destroy society. Evil had to be eliminated. Evil people shouldn’t exist.

Evil people shouldn’t exist. It wasn’t a new thought for him. Neither was the thought after that. It was a thought he’d had for a very long time - before he even met Melanie, before he even admitted it.

“Tim, are you alright? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

After a few heart-wrenching seconds, Tim found himself calming down enough to answer. “You meant to. You just didn’t want to. I made you do this.” One bad apple spoils the bunch. “Is - is that enough? I can answer more -”

“No, that’s enough,” Jon said quickly. “It’s - it’s not my place to pass judgement on you, Tim. And your, uh, disturbed thinking. Melanie - anyway, we’ll work on it.” He smiled weakly, placatingly. “I’ve been there. The others helped. If it wasn’t for them, I’d be - I don’t know where I’d be, but I’d be a lot worse off. We can help you too. If you let us. I know it’s scary, but it’s worth it. I promise.”

“Right,” Tim said. “Can I go now?”

When he left Jon’s office, everybody was at their desks. He knew what the guilty expressions when they all pretended they hadn’t been eavesdropping, but they weren’t wearing them now. Maybe everybody had grown up a bit recently.

Tim slunk into the library, and for good measure locked it behind him. He pulled out a thick stack of books, a teetering pile of Statements. He needed to research. There was a decision he had to make, and he needed as much proof as possible and a well-laid plan. It wasn’t quite a hunt, but it was close. It wasn’t quite the apocalypse, but it was his own.

But, of course, it was a lie. Tim had made his decision a few minutes ago. He had made it a long time ago. He kept making it, every time. Everything else was just justification.

It wouldn’t fix anything - but it’d make him feel better.

#my writing #the magnus archives #tma #tma fanfic #hunt!tim #timothy stoker #melanie king #sasha james #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #this one's a roughie try not to read it if you're in a bad place right now #danny stoker #also keep in mind that tim absolutely one of the most unreliable narrators ive ever written if not the most #it was incredibly fun #anyway enjoy

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vigilantetendencies · 3 years

Text

Snippet/random writing

My best boy Uriah and his unfortunate partner Xander and a little summary/snippet thing I did for them.

Heavily based in the world of Danny Phantom.

He shook with anger, eyes hard as his fists clenched at his sides. He had done nothing wrong! He never had. He had only ever existed and somehow that was enough for everyone around to pin him as the villain.

"You want a bad guy?" He asked, voice cracking as his eyes glowed. "I'll give you a bad guy!" He felt his body pulse with his emotions, years of beatings and descrimination against his genetic coding having built up into a horrifying display of power. He never wanted to be the monster- he had never asked for the honor of being feared and avoided. But if these spirits wanted a monster then they would have one; and he would do his damnedest not to disappoint.

He lunged forward, symbols glowing on his palms as he connected with one of the guards, throwing him away as his hands sucked the ectoplasm from his body. Uriah hardly paid attention, eyes hard as the ghosts that were moments ago cowering were now coming at him desperately.

It wasn’t long before there were bodies scattered across the room, Uriah panting in the middle of them while lowering the last attacker to the ground. He tried to wipe ectoplasm from his cheek and only succeeded in smearing it, standing tall and frowning down at the body at his feet.

“This didn’t have to happen,” He told it, knowing none of them could hear him.

He suddenly saw movement out of the corner of his eye, remembering where he was. He spun around, finding a man leaning up against the doorway to the room. He had an unreadable expression, and Uriah tensed in anticipation of another battle.

“My entire army,” the man rumbled, golden eyes roaming over Uriah’s body. “You took down my entire army in a matter of minutes.” There was no clear indication of what the man was feeling. It didn’t sound like anger or disappointment. Rather, it might have been intrigue. The man pushed away from the wall and started toward Uriah, the smaller male getting ready for anything. "I'm not looking for a fight, so you can relax. Or…” He grinned. “Did you want my help with that?” It came out as a purr and Uriah’s mind stalled for a moment, shoulders slumping as he heard the rumble of the man’s voice.

Was he- Was he hitting on Uriah after he’d just mopped the floor with his army?

The man walked around him, very obviously looking him over and sizing him up.

“And what important business brings a hunter into my castle? I doubt you came here to let me make you my play thing.”

“-Play thing-? What, no-” Uri felt his face warm up, trying to step away from the other man. He succeeded in putting distance between them, again tensing up. “I’m here to stop you from threatening the people of Aesop’s pyramids.” He puffed out his chest, eyes hard.

“Aesop couldn’t be bothered to come here himself? Shame.” He paused. “Even if you’re scrawny at least you’re easy on the eyes. More so than that winged brute.” The man suddenly looked disinterested, looking at the back of his hand before starting to walk away. “If that’s all then you can tell him his message was received but I still expect payment.”

“I’m not your messenger,” Uriah stated with finality. “I’m here for Aesop and Aesop alone. Unlike you, Aesop has better things to do than to send threats and hire prejudiced men to work for him.” He stuck his nose in the air, eyes glowing harshly.

“Is that it? You throw little tantrums when people don’t like you?” No, he wasn’t going to play into this man’s stupidity- “You think it’s fair because you were ridiculed and made to be the bad guy but what you’ve done here hardly looks like the work of an upstanding citizen.”

“Everyone is always going to condemn everything I do.” Uriah became less tense, looking away. “I won’t take judgement from any of you. Let alone a bully.” Uriah met his eyes once more before spinning to the door, beginning to walk out. He could feel Xander’s mood drop briefly before he called out to him.

“If you ever want a good time come back, little hunter.”

He frowned; what an appalling man.

“I’m surprised,” Aesop told Uriah, looking at the man sitting on the column next to his throne. He looked miserable, wearing one of the loincloths that everyone in the pyramids wore. He wasn’t often found shirtless out of human pride of some sort, but the heat had gotten the best of him. He was a sweating, dull mess so Aesop tried to make him feel at least a bit better. “Xander hasn’t so much as sent a threatening letter. Whatever you did must have worked.”

Uriah looked over, blinking.

“I only talked to him.”

“And wiped out his entire army, I hear. You’re not one to attack unless provoked, I was surprised.” He could see Uriah slump.

“I really didn’t like it.” He could hear someone approaching the room from down the hall but paid no attention. “When I use my powers I think it takes away energy from people. I always feel so jacked up after and I never know what to do with all the energy.”

“I could think of a few things,” a voice called over the room. Both Aesop and Uriah looked at the doorway at the front of the room, none other than Xander standing there.

“It’s awfully bold of you to come right into my castle,” Aesop frowned, upset that he had spoken too soon.

“You say it like anything is going to happen to me.”

Uriah looked at Aesop.

“Can I hit him!? I want to hit him-”

“Uriah, stand down.”

“I’m not here to fight,” Xander stood a few feet in front of them, smirking. “I’ve actually come here to inform you that I won’t be making a nuisance of myself anymore.”

“Really.” Aesop smiled a bit. “Me and my people appreciate it.”

“What’s it going to cost?” Uriah stood, crossing his arms.

“Mm, the get up is enough.” It took him a second, but Uriah realized the statement was directed at him. He gave a small squeak as he tried to somehow hide his exposed skin, hearing Aesop try and hide a laugh.

“Hey!”

“Apologies, little one. Why don’t you go and see how Anu is doing in the kitchen while we discuss these events?” Uriah happily took the escape, practically sprinting when he heard Xander whistle at his back side.

The brunette was not happy when it was later revealed that Xander was staying longer than just a conversation. He made a point to avoid him, trying to focus on helping out Aesop’s people.

It was like this for around a week, Uriah avoiding Xander and giving snarky retorts to his flirtatious remarks, but in the midst of the night Uriah came sprinting into the main hall, pulling his own clothes on again.

“Master Rakov-” Anu tried to stop him, setting down a pot on a table near the throne. "We talked about you dashing off like this!"

“No, Anu, I have to go-” He stumbled, buttoning his pants and pulling his shirt off of his shoulder to pull it on next, dropping his shoes and hoodie on accident. “Shit-”

“Uriah?” Aesop came into the hall, robe draped around his toned body. “Are you leaving us?”

“I-I had-” He groaned as he fell on his rear, pulling his shirt on as Xander entered the hall next. “I have to go- They need me-”

Aesop sighed, nodding.

“I understand.” That was it; Uriah pulled the rest of his clothes on and was suddenly gone.

Xander stared with confusion clear on his features, looking at Aesop for an answer. “Hunters are born with the ability to have foresight related to their abilities, like a premonition. Most hunters are moulded to become killers of all ghosts, but Uriah’s upbringing allows him to see when people need help rather than point him in the direction to kill.”

Xander nodded, watching the empty spot where Uriah had just been.

Peculiar.

The next meeting was a rather odd one.

Aesop had let Uriah come back around a few times, and in those times he saw Uriah mature more and more into an adult.

Xander was around some of these visits, but often times Uriah was so busy with Aesop’s people and other tasks that he couldn’t hardly give Xander a sarcastic comment. And- damn, did he want to do that so bad.

As Uriah got older he got more muscular, but not terribly so. He became more bold and much more interesting to listen to.

Finally it seemed like Uriah was not so busy that he couldn’t talk; It had been...What, two years? He was settled outside Aesop’s castle, floating in the water of the pool. He only had on a pair of shorts, his scarred up body sprawled out for Xander to oggle at shamelessly.

Had he always been so pockmarked? Not that Xander minded, he was a firm believer in scars being beautiful and showing one’s bravery. But he just...hadn’t recalled anything adorning his tanned skin when they’d last really talked all that time ago.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Uriah called from the pool, not even opening his eyes. Xander came closer, sitting on an intricately carved bench and grinning.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you do something other than run around like a maniac,” he commented. “And it looks like you’ve been busy, did you get mauled?” He watched as Uriah opened his eyes, glancing over. Shit- Touchy subject. “It’s hot, so don’t look so offended. You were pretty to look at before, but now I might find myself thinking of you at night when I-”

He was suddenly hit with a wave of water and this brought him to laughter.

“You’re not even qualified to kiss my big toe let alone jack off to me.” Uriah was standing in the pool now, arms crossed. “Don’t you have something better to do than to irritate me? Oh, there are some new guys in Aesop’s harem, maybe you should go fuck with them.”

Ooh, spicy- How exciting this man always was!

“Mm, I prefer my merchandise new, not secondhand.” Uriah made a face at the implication, cheeks reddening in confirmation. “Wait- I was right?” Truth be told, that was a little surprising. Humans and ghosts weren’t so different in that they enjoyed pleasure and affection, but he guessed Uriah’s life didn’t allow much freedom to explore and indulge.

Xander laughed, holding his stomach in glee.

“Sorry not all of us are sexual deviants who rely on one night stands to make us feel better about ourselves.”

“Oh, I can promise you, I’d like for you to be so much more than a one night stand.” That snapped Uriah back into embarrassment, though he didn’t leave. “You’re not running off, that’s a surprise. Have you decided that I might be worth a chance?”

Uriah’s demeanor changed, eyes lowered and shoulders slumped.

“I’ve spent two years fighting in the slums.” That explained the innuendos and language as of late. “After what I’ve seen I realized that there were plenty of worse things out there than you.” There was silence, Uriah’s gaze on the bottom of the pool. He hadn’t even heard Xander climb into the pool before he was splashed.

“Lighten up kid,” Uriah choked on water, blinking at Xander. “You wanna get your mind off of it? I know a good way to-”

Uriah splashed the water back at Xander, the older ghost laughing and diving at him.

“Why don’t you get lost-” Uriah hissed, just before he was tackled into the water.

He couldn’t help but smile a little.

Xander had to leave the pyramids shortly after their conversation.

Of course, they were both mildly a nuisance to one another, but it made Xander a happy man to talk to Uriah.

He prayed they’d see each other soon enough.

And, lo and behold, they did.

Suddenly Uriah was in his kingdom- His very own kingdom once more- and it didn’t look like he was on any sort of killing spree.

But Xander had also made a point to educate his men and women on Uriah’s endeavors as a hunter. So, no one was attacking him.

Uriah was in the center of town, poking his nose into the market and seeming to be on the lookout for something specific.

“If you’re looking for my bedroom it’s in the castle,” He commented, leaning over Uriah’s shoulder as he looked at journals on a stand. The smaller man jumped, spinning around and jamming a hand to Xander’s chest before seeing it was him.

“Ooh, save that for later, that might be kind of kinky-”

“I could have killed you!” Uriah shoved him away.

“I doubt it,” Xander shrugged. “What brings you to my corner of the ghost zone? Had enough of Aesop’s harems and sun?”

Uriah rubbed his sunburnt arm absently.

Right. Xander always forgot that Uriah was still among the living.

“Maybe a little,” He confessed. “But I really need a new journal. I heard the best book makers reside here, so.” He smiled a little.

“What do you need a journal for? Don’t your hands just…” Xander made a gesture with his hands as if to ask if the books wound up flames.

“I can control the fire, Xander, Uriah deadpanned. “And I write in them. That’s what they’re for.” He picked one up, running his hand over the cover with adoration.

“Will you be here a while? There are plenty of other places in the kingdom that don’t get enough attention, I can show you around.” Pause. “As long as you don’t light them on fire or try and kill everyone there--” Uriah spun to Xander and the two began to bicker again, smacking him with the journal before looking at the vendor.

“I’m buying this,” He clarified before hitting Xander again.

Uriah was surprised when Xander actually stayed by his side and showed him around the kingdom of Erimell. They bickered quite a bit, but eventually they fell into a less back and forth rhetoric and into a more calm and even friendly atmosphere, much like how they had left things at the Pyramids.

Xander couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to the boy; Though, that isn’t what he was anymore. Uriah certainly had his boyish charm but he was growing into less of an amusing nuisance. Now Uriah looked like an adult; A little hardened to the world’s evils yet still maintaining his typical excitement and...purity. Something about Uriah was just different than most people and ghosts Xander dealt with. He wasn’t here for political gain or power in any sense, he was just...a guy, buying a journal, spending the day looking around a dead kingdom because he found it fascinating.

“What is it?” Uriah snapped him out of his thoughts, looking at him as he leaned over an intricately carved wooden railing that surrounded the gothic castle they were looking at. “Pretty sure I told you last time I saw you that pictures last way longer than staring like a creep.”

Xander smirked.

“I don’t think you’d supply me with the kind of pictures I’d like.” He watched Uriah’s face contort in embarrassment, red spreading across his cheeks.

“If you’re trying to flirt you’re doing a really bad job at it,” The brunette informed him.

“I’m doing just fine,” Xander retorted. “You’re just not into it. Now, what could a runt like you be into…” Xander licked his lips, catching Uriah’s gaze flicking to his tongue briefly.

“I have things to do,” Uriah huffed, pushing off of the railing. “If you’re that thirsty then I suggest you get a drink- And no, not from me.” Uriah glared at Xander, pulling his bag in front of himself to dig through it in search of his map of the ghost zone.

“Aw, cold.” Xander remained unaffected, looking at Uriah’s map. “You could just ask for directions, what are you looking for?”

“A place to stay.” Uriah looked a little...darker as he said that. “Some..stuff...happened back home and…” He was quiet and Xander almost didn’t catch it when he reached up to wipe at his eyes. “Anyways, there aren’t exactly a lot of hotels in the ghost zone.”

“It’s almost like there’s an entire castle at my disposal,” Xander sarcastically commented, watching Uriah give him a look.

“Oh, and I’m sure your men are going to welcome me in with open arms after last time.”

“No one remembers. You killed them all. Now come on.” Xander began walking, glancing back at a hesitant Uriah and sighing. “You have to make everything difficult.” He came back over and snatched up Uriah’s things, the brunette giving a surprised “Hey!” as he picked him up and threw him over his shoulder.

“Look, kid, the ghost zone is a huge place full of bad people. Bad people who seek power and have nothing better to do than to pick fights. The rumor that there’s a hunter running around freely is spreading like wildfire and while I know you can handle yourself I’d hate to see you get upset if something happened. So shut up and take the free room.” Uriah did just that, hanging limply on Xander’s shoulder- Until one of Xander’s hands grabbed his ass.

“Put me down!”

“Definitely not happening.”

#hero #villain #hero x villain #superhero #oc #prompts #writing #supervillain #villain x hero #villains #origial character #danny phantom

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1littleshippergirl1 · 3 years

Text

A Heartfelt Discussion

Summary: Percy has a talk with Lucy about where her mother is. Single father!Percy

He'd known that once they were old enough to understand, to comprehend the lack of a mother in their life, questions were going to arise.

It was inevitable. Much as he tried to keep things going spectacularly, they would notice, they would see how their family was different than that of their cousins or friends.

He could scarcely recall a moment when the girls were young-Lucy was five and Molly was seven-; some new neighbors had moved into the house across the street from them in their muggle neighborhood. A family of four. The girls were nosy as ever, peeking out from the corner of the window to get a glimpse. He'd been in the kitchen, preparing dinner by hand when Lucy came barreling into the room and asked the dreaded question.

"Daddy!" Lucy skidded to a stop, giving his leg a hug.

He smiled down at her. "Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I has a question," she stepped back, grinning toothily at him.

He didn't bother to correct her. "And what's your question?" he stirred the pot of potatoes.

"Where's our mummy?"

He nearly dropped the spoon.

"W-What?" he asked, weakly. He turned to look at her, swallowing thickly. "What did you say, sweetie?"

"Where's our Mummy?" Lucy repeated, not noticing the change in his demeanor. "Cody has a mummy and Danni has a mummy. Why don't Molly and I have a Mummy?"

She was peering at him with those eyes of hers, so full of childhood innocence. Percy would hate to take it away.

What was he even supposed to tell her? It wasn't supposed to happen yet. He'd thought he was safe! The girls were too young for that sort of talk, they wouldn't get it. But now that she'd gone ahead and brought it up, he had to say something, least so she wouldn't go and ask someone else.

He wasn't even certain those were her words! Perhaps she was just parroting Molly again or one of her friends had asked-that Cody was a bit too nosy for Percy;s liking-or she must have overheard someone at the Burrow talking hushedly about it. Godric knows that George couldn't keep his mouth shut.

Percy didn't know where the question had come from nor did he know how to properly respond. But the damage was done. He didn't like this, being so out of his element, so caught off guard. It wasn't him. It wasn't how he functioned.

As Lucy waited for an answer, bouncing on her heels, Percy stared down at her, his tongue feeling awfully loose and unreliable.

No one else in the family had been through a divorce or gone through a situation close enough to his. No one was able to give him the advice he so desperately needed. What did they know about this? Sometimes, Percy envied his siblings' marriages. They were happy and together and everything was so bloody perfect.

He couldn't say the same, not by a longshot.

So, he did what every parent had done at one point or another, he put it off. She was far too young for that talk. It would need to happen eventually, but that time wasn't now.

"Lucy," he put on a false cheery voice, "I have an idea."

Her eyes lit up. "What?"

"How about we go out for ice cream after dinner. How's that sound?"

She gasped, letting out a giddy holler. "Okay, Daddy!" she jumped and down, once, then went running back into the living room to inform Molly of the night's activity. "Molly! Molly! Daddy says we're getting ice cream!"

Percy let out a deep breath, leaning against the counter.

It wasn't that he didn't feel awful, because he did. Merlin knows that he did. He didn't want to lie or ignore the subject entirely. He didn't want to be like the bloody coward that he felt like. That he knew he was. It was going to come up again, he very well knew that. There would come a day where they would be searching for answers and there would be no way of avoiding it.

He knew that.

But how did one tell a child that her mother had run off without a second thought about them?

Percy continued to cook; every once and awhile, he'd glance on over at his girls as they rammed the firetrucks that were gifted to them from Harry into each other, making siren noises.

That night, when the girls were put to bed, he laid in his bedroom for the longest time and wept.

The topic didn't come up again until Molly was ready to attend Hogwarts. Even then, he'd frozen up when she came to him the night before, hesitantly and full of inquisitiveness. Without beating around the bush, she asked the same question Lucy had-the emotions swirling around within him just the same.

She just wanted to know, he had to accept that. It was natural. A smidgen of information, a piece of her who mother was and why she wasn't there. A flicker into a person of her life that was only there for a short time. Percy couldn't' fault her for that.

She hadn't wanted much. Growing up all those years without a mother in her life had hardened that part of her heart. She hadn't asked for a deep, thorough explanation, a reminiscing story of how they'd gotten together or really, much at all.

A picture.

That's it. A simple picture.

Percy did, indeed, have one. The only one of Audrey that he secretly kept. With a sigh, he flicked his wand, the item flying down the stairs and into his hand. He couldn't help but gaze at it as he gave it to Molly.

It was taken in the autumn of '98; as a matter of fact, he'd been the one to take the picture. He and Audrey had gone to a park on their third date. The season had changed and everything was bursting with radiance. The leaves were a beautiful shade of red and orange, flowing down as they fell to the ground. It was like a cascading waterfall. Audrey was beaming, a slight laugh escaping her from the thrill of it all.

Something happened inside of him, a small pang that he had to push through. He was no longer in love with her, but she was the first woman he'd fallen madly for and she was the mother of his children. She would always have a special place in him, even if that place wasn't the same after all these years.

Molly had been alright with that. She accepted the picture without much else being said between them, taking it to her bedroom where it was placed in a drawer-he thought. Honestly, he knew he got off easy on that and he was selfishly relieved.

It'd been years since she left, but she was still a tricky subject to talk about. He'd been so hurt and he didn't want his girls to have that same feeling, to have that ache because the realization of Audrey not wanting them would come eventually, even with him trying to delay it.

Or maybe, deep down, he was afraid. Afraid that with the knowledge their mother was out there-somewhere-they would embark on a mission to find her. To get some closure.

It was reasonable, but Percy didn't want to think abou it.

He'd tried to be more than enough for them. Taking on and fulfilling two roles, a role that Audrey had simply given up on. It was difficult and stressful and some days Percy wanted to scream because he was up to here with everything-but he would do anything for his children. He'd let them put a ridiculous amount of hair clips on him or a tiara to his head that would surely cut off his circulation one day. He would tackle every bad dream, every skinned knee, everything that made them shed a tear. He would listen and comfort them through any inevitable heartbreak of their own and help them get ready for any dates, assuring them repeatedly that they looked absolutely beautiful and their date would adore them.

His girls were his entire world. The bitterness, which at one point had consumed him, was long gone by now. But his protectiveness of them, especially when it came to the subject of her, would remain.

Lucy peeked around the wall into the living room. Percy was on the couch, engrossed in a novel he'd received as a birthday present. She knocked on the wall with her knuckles.

He glanced up.

"Hi, Daddy," she gave him a small smile. "Hope I didn't interrupt."

Shaking his head, he patted the seat next to him. "Not at all. Did you need something?"

She sat down, snuggling into his side. Out of both of his girls, Lucy was the one that didn't stray away from physical affection. Molly would let him hug her and give her a kiss on her cheek as a goodbye, then put on that facade of being embarrassed by it. He saw right through that-she would be quite upset if he neglected to do so.

"I mean," she began, unsurely, "if you're not busy..."

He closed the book. "Of course not," he reassured her. "I'm never too busy for you, girls."

She gave him another smile. "Okay."

Percy sensed something wasn't right. Lucy was chewing on her bottom lip and avoiding his eyes. He knew his daughters well enough, was aware of how they behaved when something was wrong and this certainly signalled that something was bothering her.

"You alright, Luce?"

She shrugged and he could practically see her mind overworking to come up with a response. "I just...I dunno. I just had a question."

"Alright," he said slowly, "what about, Sweetheart?"

She looked down at her lap. "Promise you won't get mad?"

"Lucy," Now he was concerned. He shifted himself a little to face her directly, studying her. "What's wrong, honey? You know you and your sister can talk to me about anything. Is it that boy you're seeing? Do I need to have a talk with him? You know boys at that age can be a little-"

"Dad," she said with a slight giggle, "it's not Dustin."

"Oh," he said, leaning back. "Well, alright, then." For good measure, to lighten things up, he added, "Well, he's lucky, then."

It'd worked. Lucy laughed, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.

"What?"

"It's true," Percy nodded, a mischievous smile on his lips. "I'm within my full right to hex any boy that upsets you or Molly."

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

He nudged her, playfully. "I could be worse. You remember how Uncle Bill was when Vic started dating?"

Bill had been regarded as the cool older brother for as long as Percy could remember. He and his younger siblings had idolized him. His laid back nature was one of the things that Percy had, admittedly, envied for a while. And he'd just assumed that when Bill was a parent, he'd have that same attitude.

However, a week after Vic came home from her third year of Hogwarts, there had been a letter addressed for her that she'd immediately taken to her room with a goofy grin on her face and sometime after, Bill had found out she'd been writing to a boy in her year-he'd been anything but cool.

He'd been adamantly against Vic dating, lamenting to Percy over a glass of firewhiskey over how his daughter was growing up too fast and he wished he could slow time down.

Of course, Percy understood. He sympathized-he did. His girls were interested in boys as well and he longed for those days when they would happily curl in his lap, snuggled against his chest as he read them a story of their choosing. But they had to grow up eventually and that's what he'd told Bill.

Lucy grimaced.

He laughed.

"Now, enough of that," he waved his hand, brushing at the air. "You've stalled long enough."

Just as he suspected, she grinned guiltily.

"Now, tell me," he said. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

She didn't speak for all of a minute. He watched a multitude of emotions cross her face all at once. Hesitancy. Apprehension. Uncertainty. Then, that familiar Gryffindor courage came shining out and she said so softly that he had to strain his ears, "It's about Mum."

Oh.

"Yeah?" he said, managing to keep his voice steady while on the inside he was freaking out. His siblings would have told him that it was no big deal but that was completely incorrect to Percy. He thought it was a pretty bloody big deal. "What about her?"

He was taken back to that five year old, asking why she and Molly didn't have a mummy. She'd been wanting something earnest, nothing that should have been told to her as a child her age.

However, she was no longer that same five year. She'd grown into a quiet, thoughtful thirteen year old who was seeking the truth. Despite that Percy wasn't ready for it.

He just wasn't sure if he was ready, to open to letting that part of his life resurface after burying it for so long. Some things were better left unsaid, left tucked away instead of dwelling on the what if's and what could have been. It didn't mean that it hurt any less, because even after all this time, there were moments where he was laying in bed, staring up at his ceiling blankly and just wondering what if things had been different. What if right at that moment, Audrey was curled up next to him, snoring lightly, rather than an empty, cold side that he'd come accustomed to?

But this wasn't just about him anymore.

"Well," Lucy said, drawing out the word, "I, erm, I was wondering..."

She trailed off. Clearly, she wasn't sure how to proceed.

"What do you want to know?" he cut in, gently.

His baby girl was so relieved. Relaxed now, tension gone, sitting up straighter, looking him in the eye, determined. She was every bit of the Gryffindor that he knew she'd be. And he couldn't help but have one thought: Audrey should have been there to witness it, to see how wonderful their daughter was turning out to be.

"Everything," Lucy admitted.

"I see," he sighed. "Suppose I should start at the beginning, hmm?"

She listened, attentively.

"Alright, well, your Mum was a Ravenclaw when we were in school. Met her on the train; she was a first year when I was in my second. And since we were in different houses, we didn't see much of each other."

Lucy nodded. "Did you think she was pretty, when you met her?"

He let out a chuckle. "Well, I didn't think she was terrible looking, but at twelve, my eye wasn't on girls."

"What was it on?"

"Being named Prefect," Percy said, reminiscing to that summer before Ron's first year when he'd received his badge and a congratulations from Professor McGonagall. It'd been the happiest moment of his life. "Your Aunt and Uncles can attest, I was terribly insufferable at that time."

"Oh, I don't need them to tell me," Lucy teased.

"Hush, you," he commanded, jokingly before switching back to a more serious side. "Anyway, I didn't really talk to your mother until after Hogwarts, when we were working at the Ministry before your Uncle Harry got rid of You-Know-Who."

"When you weren't talking to anyone," Lucy said.

"Right." It was still unpleasant to think about. But everyone had already forgiven him and for that, he was eternally grateful. "Your Mum was a secretary in the department that I was working in. She used to bring me coffee sometimes after most people went home and it was just the two of us."

Lucy frowned. "But, Dad, you hate coffee."

"Despise it," he agreed. "But your mother didn't know that."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "So you just...drank it anyway?"

"Sort of. I'd get rid of it when she wasn't looking, usually."

"Why didn't you just tell her you didn't like it?" Lucy's eyes gleamed with amusement.

Honestly, he really should have.

"Luce, I'd only had one girl interested in me as a teenager and I didn't even know if Audrey fancied me at that time, so I'd tolerate a little coffee if it meant spending a few minutes with her."

"You know, Dad, that's almost romantic," Lucy grinned. "And kinda weird, coming from you."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Percy said, dryly. "Anyway, yes, I tolerated it just so I could be with her and that worked until one day."

"What happened?" Lucy asked, eagerly.

"Audrey and I decided to walk down to the cafeteria to get our coffee together and on the way back up, we passed by a potted plant and honestly, I'd just wanted to get rid of it so I poured it in."

"And?"

"It started screaming," he shook his head at the memory and she covered her mouth to smother her giggles. "One of those talking pots, wouldn't you know it? Awful thing. I was so embarrassed but your mother thought it was hilarious and took to teasing me whenever the opportunity came to her."

"...Wow, Dad," Lucy couldn't stop the stream of laughter that was erupting from her. "Brilliant. What happened after that?"

"Well, it was quite a strange year. It wasn't really permissible to date amongst your co-workers but we snuck around it. She used to pull me in the broom closet quite a bit."

Lucy's face scrunched up at the thought. "Gross," she muttered.

Percy rolled his eyes fondly.

"Anyway. Sometime after that, I found out your Mum did, indeed, fancy me and we managed to have a few dates before getting together officially."

"Did you think she was pretty then?" Lucy probed.

Percy smiled softly, recalling that moment when he'd begun to see Audrey in a different light. "She was the prettiest girl I'd laid my eyes on."

"What'd she look like?" Lucy asked, relishing at being able to hear those intimate details.

"Like you," he caressed the silk blonde locks she'd inherited from her mother. "Blonde hair and she never took it out of her braid, either, if she could help it. She was about average height, I'd say. She only came up to my chest. Hmm, her eyes are hazel, though and I used to get lost in them often. I think she thought I was being cheesy when I said that, but I'd meant it."

Lucy nodded along, wearing a thoughtful expression. "I look like Mum," she whispered-he assumed-more to herself than to him.

"Except for your eyes," Percy said. "And your terrible eyesight. That's all me, I'm afraid. Your Mum's eyes are much better than mine are."

"So, she doesn't wear glasses, then."

"Well, I'm not certain about now but when we were together, no. Although, she did use to take mine to try them on," percy smiled wryly. "Thought it was the funniest thing."

"What was she like?" Lucy asked, after a beat of silence for her to ponder what she'd been told. "Does she like reading, too? Do me and her have anything else in common?"

"She was..." he searched for the most appropriate word, "unique. Very unique. Very much her own person. She was the kindest person I'd come across but she also wasn't afraid to stand up for herself. I think that's what attracted me to her in the first place. She was the opposite of myself, in many ways. I preferred to be alone for the most part and she relished in large groups. I could read for hours and she positively loathed to read and made it known on more than one occasion."

Percy paused. "Before we even began to get more comfortable around each other, your Mum had taken to embarrassing me on purpose."

Lucy cracked a grin. "How?"

"Oh, many ways. The plant gave her an idea so she charmed my chair in my office to say some rather...interesting things whenever I sat down. Oh, and there was this one time where, for nearly a month, she would greet me rather obnoxiously whenever she saw me."

"Did she make you laugh?" Lucy asked, curiously.

"Quite often," Percy said, reminiscing back to those very times. "Of course, that was after we began to talk. I was quite irritated by her presence when she first arrived."

"Why?"

"Well, I said I was quite insufferable," Percy said with a chuckle. "It was a difficult year, too. Strange and difficult. Finding out I'd been wrong about my job then later finding out Professor Dumbledore was dead-not to mention everything else after."

Lucy nodded wordlessly.

"But anyway. She was the complete opposite of myself, as I said, and she was always doing things unorthodox. Think she was trying to wind me up on purpose and I must say, it worked majority of the time," Percy's chest ached, drifting back into those old memories he'd been suppressing. Her grin that had once made his stomach flip flop was becoming vivid in his mind once again. "Really, I couldn't stand her at first, if I'm being honest. She was a right pain in the bum and it wasn't until one night she brought me a coffee because she said I'd been working too hard-that I finally noticed her."

"Here. Take this. You look like dragion dung."

"That's hardly an appropriate way to speak to your co-workers during hours."

"Oh, I see it now. You're one of those uppity types, aren't ya?"

He'd been rendered speechless by her sheer audacity; no one had spoken to him in that way since he'd first started working at the Ministry.

"Enjoy your coffee, Percy Weasley. And try not to tie your tie so tight next time. Cuts off air to your brain. Makes ya cranky. Like now."

"Dad?"

Lucy's voice brought him out of his daydream.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Why did she leave?"

Percy took a good, long look at his daughter. Her eyes, so full of wonder and defeat; her face worn in a way that should never have been.

And he hated it.

Hated what Audrey had brought on by her own selfishness.

"It's complicated, Lucy," he eventually settled on.

"How?" her voice was sharper. "How's it complicated?"

Percy kissed her temple, soothing rubbing a hand down her back. "You have to understand; your Mum and I...Audrey and I got married fairly quick after the war."

"I know that," Lucy's voice was now tinged with impatience. "Uncle George said you were the second one, after Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur."

"There was a reason for that," he took a deep breath. "You see, Luce, after the war, we just...we all wanted some normalcy back. It was so tough for so long that we just wanted to feel something familiar again. So, we got married and tried to make life go on again."

He continued, "It was okay for a while. We were happy. Audrey got along with everyone fine and I was slowly talking to the family again. I thought everything was going to be okay again."

"But it wasn't," Lucy said, knowingly.

"No," he agreed. "It wasn't. Your Mum and I started having rows after Molly was born. We'd never really fought before that and then suddenly we were screaming at each other left and right."

That was the most unpleasant phase of his marriage. The one where they'd gotten past being comfortable with each other and had gone on to nitpicking at everything. He could admit, shamefully, some of his worst offences where when he was exhausted from a day's work and came home, scolding Audrey for trivial things, such as leaving a window or a cabinet door open.

But he admitted to his rather poor behavior. Audrey, more often than not, made countless excuses, stating numerously of her disdain on staying home to watch over Molly.

Initially, he believed it to be hormones from her pregnancy. His Mum had said that she still might be moody after giving birth. So, he brushed it off and when time came for her maternity leave to finish, he'd thought-given her complaining-she would go back. But with an angry fling of her arms, she informed him-bitterness stinging her tone-that she was intending to quit her job so they didn't have to worry about a babysitter.

That was when the storm began to roll in.

"Do you regret it?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Getting married?" he clarified.

Did he?

In the short time he and Audrey were together, so many beautiful memories had become woven in his mind. Ones that'd he cherish. If only now things were different, better circumstances, but while the marriage itself hadn't worked out, she had given him the two most precious gifts anyone had given him.

"No," he assured, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "Because I've got you and your sister and I'd do it all over again if I had the chance."

"You mean it?" she asked, insecurely.

"I mean it," he affirmed. "Is there anything else you want to know?"

"Yes." Percy recognized the pointedness of which she spoke. "You still haven't told me why she left."

"Right," he mumbled. He rubbed at his chin. "Well, I'm going to be truthful, Luce, but I don't want you to dwell on it."

She nodded.

She was doing that a lot. Then again, what else was she to do?

"Your Mum wasn't happy being a wife and a mother," he admitted.

Lucy kept her gaze downward. "Did she tell you that?"

"She didn't have to."

Much as she tried to keep up the pretense, Percy had begun to see through it as the months passed from Molly's birth. She didn't have that gentle, nurturing aura to her and would frequently snap at little Molly for crying too much or showing blatant favoritism by the way she would instantly calm down in Percy's arms when she'd previously been wailing in Audrey's.

(Percy had nearly snorted at her claim that their baby was somehow favoring him, but he held it back when Audrey's eyes practically had fire coming from them).

He'd brought his concerns to his parents, in hopes that they could share some wisdom to help them through it. It was the war, they said, she must be struggling. They were of the belief that Audrey would get accustomed to parenthood eventually, that she'd merely gotten off on a rocky start.

But it didn't get better.

"She was impatient," Percy recalled. "Not very eager to witness Molly's milestones. Think she was resentful that she'd done it all so quick."

He hadn't known the correct way to approach the delicate subject with her, without sounding accusatory or making her believe that she was an awful mother. He'd come across her holding a sleeping Molly in her lap, with one arm over her middle to keep her from falling.

It proved that she was capable of acting motherly when she didn't let her temper fly off so easily.

He'd thought, or maybe he'd merely been fooling himself to feel better about the situation that he'd tried so hard to avoid, things would get better.

He'd thought that she was genuinely glad when she found out she was pregnant with Lucy.

She never indicated anything else, nothing to suggest that she was dismayed by it. She was there to pick out colors for the nursery, to decorate it with some stuffed animals and had snickered when Percy failed miserably trying to put together the crib by hand.

But then, as the months passed, the due date inching closer, she became a little more withdrawn. Any pleasant mood or smile would wipe away at the mention of the baby. She quit participating in any talk about it altogether.

It left an uneasy feeling swirling in Percy's stomach. Though, he tried to convince himself that it was just nerves. She'd be alright once the baby came.

She didn't.

"Did she even love us?" Lucy expressed her doubt.

I don't even know, myself.

"I wish I could tell you," Percy adjusted Lucy's glasses for her, they'd slipped down to her nose."I wish I could say she loved you both dearly-and maybe she did, deep down-but the truth is, I don't know."

"Oh," Lucy mumbled.

"But I love you," it didn't matter that she obviously knew that, he would reiterate it to them so he knew that they knew it. "And that's never going to change."

"I know, Dad," she said, gratefully. "I love you, too."

He ruffled her hair.

"I just have one more question."

"Ask away," he told her.

"When did Mum leave?"

"Shortly after we took you home from St. Mungos," he said, heavily sighing. "Your Mum, she was...acting quite strange. She wouldn't touch you and I was so busy trying to take care of you and keep Molly out of trouble I-" His words caught in his throat.

"You what?" Lucy said, concerned.

"I didn't even notice the empty wardrobe," he said with a slight, humorless laugh. "She'd left. Nearly two weeks after you were born and she left while I was changing you. I didn't even hear here, didn;t even get to say goodbye."

Lucy took his hand, squeezing it comfortingly.

"She left me a note, explaining everything. I'm glad you and your sister don't remember. I-I didn't know what to do with myself. I was terrified of letting you both down."

Lucy looked scandalized. "You could never let us down, Daddy!"

He smiled softly. "Thank you, Princess."

They sat there, silently, each drifting off into their own thoughts.

"How long did it take, you know, before it got better?"

He'd expected that question.

"A while," he said, truthfully. "It took a great deal of time to stop feeling so bitter. There were days I didn't want to get out of bed but I had to, because I had you girls to care for."

"So," Lucy's voice had taken on a slightly teasing tinge-that he suspected was to break up the tension and honestly, he was grateful for that, "technically, that means you owe us, right? Because otherwise you would've stayed in bed and probably looked like Uncle Charlie when he goes months without shaving."

A teeny smirk found its way on his lips. "Perhaps."

"So, like a new broom owe us or extra hour till curfew owe us?" Lucy grinned.

"Or," he chuckled, "how about I overlook the fact that Uncle George found you and that boy kissing in the back of the shop last week?" He raised his eyebrows when she smiled sheepishly.

"We'll go with that."

"I thought so," he checked his wristwatch. He ought to get dinner started by now before Molly came to moan that she was positively starving. "And maybe a stop at that muggle pizza place is fine, to."

"You're the best," Lucy kissed his cheek, jumping to her feet to inform Molly of their plans.

"And don't forget it!" he called to her.

He was getting up when she stepped back into the room, looking far more lighter than she had when she first came to him.

"Dad?"

"Yes?" He looked at her.

"Thanks," she said sincerely. "I know I don't appreciate you enough but I promise, I'll do better. You really are the best."

She left, making all sorts of racket as she ran up the stairs, hollering to her sister.

A warm sensation filled his whole body. He'd doubted for so long that he was doing the right thing, fretting and comparing himself to all those other parents that seemed to have it all together-

But his little girl thought he was the best.

And that was alright with him.

#percy weasley #lucy weasley #molly weasley ii #audrey weasley #percy weasley fic #harry potter #harry james potter #weasley family #hp next gen #hurt/comfort #single parents #hp fandom

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hphmmatthewluther · 3 years

Text

Matthew Luther and the Results and the Relay, part 1/2

The waves ebbed and flowed over the white sand, the sun beating down overhead. There were no other sounds, apart from the sound of splashing feet in the shallower water. One of the two pairs belonged to Matthew Luther.

“It’s weird,” he said, walking through the water with his companion in hand, “I’ve never been to a beach without any rocks whatsoever.”

“Of course you haven’t, Matthew.” said Merula, smirking. “What are we doing here?”

“I...I don’t know.” he confessed, looking around. Beyond the white sand, he could make out Hogwarts in the distance, and the forest between them. “I don’t think we’re in Scotland anymore, Merula.”

Merula smiled, moving closer to him. “Of course we aren’t!”

“Yeah, if we were the weather wouldn’t be this nice.” he pointed out. Merula laughed at that, and everything felt...right for Matthew. Suddenly, dark clouds appeared in the sky.

“You had to say it, didn’t you?” Merula asked. “I’ll...um, see you around, Matt.”

She kissed him on the cheek, and with that, she turned to leave.

“Wait!” yelled Matthew, the water slowly rising around him, “Where are you going?! And since when did you call me Matt?!” The water covered him completely, and there was a burst of thunder. Then, there was a loud crack of lighting, and-

“Gah!” Matthew exclaimed, opening his eyes. Danny, his cat, scrambled off of his face, allowing him to breathe. He brought his hand to chest, calming himself down. He looked at the time. It was ridiculously early. He sighed, and fell back onto his bed. Danny quickly returned to his position by Matthew’s feet. But the Ravenclaw had other things on his mind. He’d had a dream about Merula. Again. The first dream had been relatively similar to this one, though that time the lake had frozen over, and Merula hadn’t kissed him at all. He turned red as he contemplated where exactly these dreams were going. It occurred to him that he wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon, and so he turned the noise muffler on the side of his bed up to full, and pulled out a black guitar case. In it was an acoustic guitar with several blue runes engraved into the wood. He had found it while facing a changeling before Christmas, and had slowly been re-teaching himself how to play it.

Matthew flicked through the notebook his father had given him. There was a section titled “Songs to never play in a guitar shop.” It had one entry: Stairway to Heaven. Matthew chuckled at that, pulling the guitar up and beginning to play. He found it very useful, as it sort of calmed down his constantly-whirring brain. There were three reasons to play today. First, of course, that dream, secondly was because it was results day for their exams, and thirdly because it was the Dragon Relay. Matthew shook his head, trying to force out any fears of what would happen. Suddenly, there was a tapping sound from the nearby window. He peeked out of the curtains of his four-poster bed to see an eagle on the windowsill outside. Matthew merely smirked, and opened the window.

“Morning, Talbott.” he whispered, letting the eagle inside. It perched on the empty four-poster bed in the room and ruffled its feathers, before promptly transforming into a fourteen-year-old in his pyjamas.

“And to you, Matthew.” Talbott began, as Matthew closed the window once again. “You were up early. Again.”

“Actually, I’ve only just woken up.” Matthew explained, placing the guitar back in its case. “Besides, it's not like today is what you’d call a stress-free day, right?”

Talbott nodded. “I suppose. But I can’t see why you of all people are stressed. You are above and beyond most of our class in almost every subject.”

“I mean, I guess...” Matthew admitted, “But I’m still worried. Just...you know, worst-case scenario, that sort of thing. But more than that, it’s the Dragon Relay today.”

“Ah, of course.” said Talbott. “I hope you raise enough money. I don’t really go for Dragon Club, but I see that it is important, so I will be attending too.”

Matthew smiled. “Thanks, Talbott. That’s...well, it’s a ringing endorsement if you’re coming.”

There was a silence. “Should we get breakfast?” Matthew asked.

“Very well.” Talbott replied, closing his bed’s curtains so he could change.

By the time they had got down to the Great Hall, a few others were in there already. Among them was Chiara Lobosca, sitting at the Hufflepuff table. She waved at the two, and moved across to the other side of the table so she could talk to them. Matthew found himself smiling.

“Morning, you two!” she said cheerily. “So, Dragon Relay today! Are you two excited?”

“Well, considering I’ve helped organise it, yeah!” admitted Matthew, as other members of Ravenclaw arrived.

“Time to show the school what Ravenclaws’ got!” yelled Andre, carefully moving his scarf away from Matthew’s cereal. “Ah, hey Chiara! Looking stylish, as always!”

Chiara gave that soft, sweet laugh that she always did. Matthew smiled. He was so glad that Chiara was now talking to people; it made him happy to see her more and more. It was then that she pointed out that Matthew’s hand was now in his bowl.

“Gah!” he exclaimed, pulling out his wand. “Scourgify.” he muttered, the milk slowly vanishing from his hand, as Rowan sat down next to him. “Sorry, guess I’m just tired.” he said, his cheeks now a deep red. Right in front of Chiara, too…

“It’s alright, Matt.” she reassured him, smiling. “Nice spellwork by the way.”

“Th-thanks...” he stammered over his own embarrassment. Rowan looked on in surprise. Matthew’s eyes widened in realisation.

“Oh, right, I gave Chiara ‘Matt’ privileges.” he explained. There were a few gasps, followed by some nods and ‘Nice one”’s from those nearby. Matthew didn’t let just anyone call him ‘Matt’, preferring to go by Matthew. If you had ‘Matt’ privileges, you were automatically cooler. Talbott smiled.

“Well, we are all glad that you managed to help Matthew to get over breaking that statue.” he said. “Without it, we would not have had...a party today...hmm...”

“It was the least I could do, really.” she said, pushing her hair back. Matthew had to stop himself from smiling too much. It was very difficult.

“Oi, Luther!”

The group turned around to see Merula walking over. Matthew gave a small wave, relieved at the distraction for a brief moment. Then he remembered exactly what he had been dreaming about that morning, and quickly tried to push it out of his head. He failed miserably.

“Well, this Dragon Relay better be something, Luther.” she sneered, sitting down at the Slytherin table. “I will beat you at everything of course.” She suddenly noticed Chiara standing next to the group. “Oh...so you’ve added a new member to the cult, have you?”

“Haven’t you got a cult of your own?” Talbott asked. “You’ve got Ismelda, Barnaby’s re-joined you, you’ve made up with Tulip, all those Puffsk-”

“Anyway!” she said loudly. “I will see you there, Luther.”

“You can call me Matt, if you want.” Matthew reminded her. “You did help me in the Cursed Vaults, after all.”

Merula scoffed. “Those that call you Matthew are below you. Those who call you...uh, ‘Matt’, are only equal to your level. Quidditch, duelling, exam results...I call you Luther because I am above you in every way, shape and form.”

Matthew got up and walked over, and the people nearby had to cover their mouths. “Um, I somehow doubt you’re um, above me, Merula.” to which those nearby started giggling at their five-inch height difference. At this distance to her he felt a strong sense of Deja vu, and an even stronger temptation to grab her hand as he’d done in the dream.

She smirked and walked off, before remembering she had to eat breakfast, and so sat back down far away from Matthew. But, for some reason, every time he looked up at her, she was looking at him. He didn’t point it out, but put it in the back of his head as the group discussed the upcoming results.

“Matthew?” asked Rowan, as they headed to Herbology.

“Yes, Rowan?” Matthew asked, snapping back to reality quickly.

“Look...we’re friends, right?” he asked.

“Of course.” Matthew replied. “Why, what do you want?”

Rowan gave a fake laugh. “Wh-who said I wanted anything?”

“You only play this card when you want something.” Matthew said with a smile.

Rowan smiled back. “It’s just...well, you know how you gave Chiara ‘Matt’ privileges?” Matthew nodded, his cheeks going slightly pink. “Well, and this is Andre’s words not mine, you may have had an...um, ulterior motive.”

Matthew stopped in his tracks. “Rowan Khanna, how dare you accuse me of something so low-brow. I would never use the sacred principle of ‘Matt’ privileges to...well, to get with girls!”

Rowan nodded. “Yeah, I know that. Penny’s still wondering when she’s getting hers.”

“I’ll let Penny call me Matt when you let her call you Ro-Ro.”

It was then their turn to blush. ‘Matt’ privileges were one thing, but ‘Ro-Ro’ was for the very cream of the crop.

“Alright, everyone, gather round, that’s it!” Professor Sprout’s voice boomed across the Greenhouse. “We’ll be checking in with the Venomous Ivy today, so dragonhide gloves on!” There was a shuffling as the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs both looked through their bags. Matthew pulled out his gloves (made from a Hebridean Black Dragon, a Doherty family heirloom, according to his mother). Chiara, who Matthew had ‘wound up’ next to, pulled out her own, clearly from a Welsh Green. The Ravenclaw’s paranoia, which had been dormant for the last few days, suddenly reared its head. Do not try and start a conversation based on dragonhide gloves, you dolt! Matthew felt inclined to agree with it. He didn’t think there was much to talk about regarding Venomous Ivy. He looked over at the silver-haired girl, who smiled back at him. Matthew sighed. He would have to save his confidence for the Dragon Relay.

“Woah!” came a voice to Matthew’s left, followed by a loud crash. He looked over to see Tonks on the floor, a dragonhide glove somehow on her nose (from a Swedish Short Snout.)

“Blimey, Tonks, are you okay?” Matthew asked, moving over to help her up.

“Yeah...you know me, just clumsy.” Tonks lamented, putting her gloves on. “Sorry for interrupting your, uh, quality time over there.”

Matthew blushed for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “God, did Andre tell everyone about his little ‘theory’?” he asked.

“Is it really a theory?” Tonks chuckled, as Matthew moved over to the storage cupboard. “I wouldn’t be surprised if by now you’d started dreaming about Chiara.”

“Merula.” Matthew corrected automatically, not really paying attention to what he was saying. Tonks came to a halt.

“Did you just say...Merula?” Tonks asked, quickly moving closer so they could talk in private. Matthew kept looking through the cupboard, despite having found everything he needed. It appeared that his brain had short-circuited.

“I...um...what?” he spluttered, “Wh- Merula? Did I...what was the question?”

Tonks smirked knowingly. “I asked if you’d dreamt about Chiara, and you said ‘Merula’.”

Matthew’s eyes widened, as he slowly closed the cupboard door and walked back to the Venomous Ivy. He took a long, deep sigh. “Can...can you keep a secret?”

Tonks gasped, before quickly focusing on her own Ivy. “Come on, Matthew, I’m never one to gossip. Mostly. But I won’t tell a soul about this. Now...what happened?”

“Nothing...too bad, okay?!” Matthew began. “We...um, we were on the beach...together...holding hands...what?” he asked, as Tonks leant forward.

“Keep going.” she said with bated breath.

“Okay...we talked a bit...we laughed, then this thunderstorm appeared and she...um Merula, well the dream Merula she...kissed me. On the cheek though, that was it! Anyway...then the sea rose, this lightning came down, and I woke up.”

Tonks nodded, slowly digesting what Matthew had told her. “And...no dreams about Chiara.”

“Well, she appears in them too, but she’s never...well...” he trailed off, gazing down at his Venomous Ivy. It thrashed its vines towards him as he approached, but recoiled as he poured water onto its leaves. It turned in the flow of the water, allowing the water to catch the leaves and fall down into the gutter.

“Excellent, Luther! Your Ivy really trusts you! Very impressive!” Professor Sprout pointed out. “It’s a lot like taming a creature, really?”

“Okay...” said Tonks, once Sprout had moved away. “That doesn’t sound too bad...”

“That isn’t the problem.” confessed Matthew. “This...isn’t the first time I’ve dreamt about her. And Merula knows she’s been in there once.”

Tonks gulped. “Right...crikey, if she finds out she’s been in your dreams multiple times...”

“I’ll never hear the end of it.” Matthew concluded. “And I need everything to go well today. But, knowing my luck...”

“You know, maybe you could talk to someone about this. Someone who sort of gets this romance thing. I’ve got to prepare for this party and stress about the results, so my schedule is packed.”

Matthew nodded. “Yeah...I’ll talk to someone like that. Someone cool.”

“Dennis found that story hilarious, Matthew Luther!” Tulip laughed, as she, her toad, and Matthew sat in the now tidier Dragon Club. “And, while I appreciate the ‘Matt’ privileges for my help in the Nightmare Vault, I have given them to Dennis instead.”

“Perfectly understandable, Tulip.” he reassured her. “I guess I wanted to see you because you’re friends with both of them. Also, you aren’t Diego.”

Tulip nodded. “Diego Caplan knows very little about dating, despite what he tells you. I’m glad you came to me.” Dennis croaked, scratching the Dungbomb on his back with one of his legs.

“So..I guess I’m just confused. I mean, I...I think I like Chiara, but...maybe I’m just distracting myself from Merula...I don’t know...maybe I’m just not ready for dating yet.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that.” Tulip responded. “In fact, it’s probably for the best. I suppose what you’ve got to ask is this: do you want your relationship with Chiara or Merula to change? And, at the same time, do they want it to change?”

Matthew thought about this for a moment. He liked Chiara, and having her hang out with his friends was...well, enough, and he was pretty sure that she felt the same way too. For now, perhaps, said a voice in his head which sounded horribly like Edwin the changeling. He ignored it. So that wasn’t a problem. Merula, on the other hand, was. He did indeed want things to change between the two. But not like that! Said one voice. Then how? You’ve actually kissed her, haven’t you? Said another. Tulip could see he was struggling.

“You don’t have to decide right away, Matthew Luther. But allow the question to guide what you do during the Dragon Relay tonight. After all...” she smirked. “These are two of our hottest friends we’re talking about.”

They spent a while laughing and complimenting their friends, until it soon became time for the Relay to begin.

“You will do fine, Matthew Luther.” she declared, as they left for the School Grounds. “This is one of your closest friends and one of your closest rivals. The strangeness of dreams will not change this.”

Matthew nodded. “No, I suppose not.” He felt ready, and he honestly was. His only difficulty from that point until the fundraiser began was struggling to not laugh when he saw Diego with a guitar case. He remembered what his father had said about those who bring their guitars to parties, and suddenly felt a surge of confidence. He could do this.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #hphm fanfiction #merula x jacob's sibling #merula x mc #chiara lobosca #merula snyde #hphm tonks #tulip kasaru

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chayacat · 3 years

Text

Devil’s Sweet Star (10)

Fandom : Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

***

The sky is clear on this evening, the wind is not too cool, almost an ideal time to go kill or stalk someone. Unfortunately for Danny, this ideal evening is a bit taken by Mr Hoggins' reception. Melina invited you with him and Mattew to come to her house to get ready, so you will quickly be at the reception. As the women prepared in Melina’s bedroom, the boys changed in the guest room.

“Damn I don't like costumes! I feel way too different! How can you...” he starts, turning to Danny before freezing on the spot. “wow...”

Danny was in front of him, putting the sleeves of his jacket back on. His hair was not tied this time, cascading over his shoulders. He had left his glasses in their boxes, revealing his piercing blue eyes. Did I ever tell you that this boy was beautiful? Tell you that, in a suit, he's divine to look at.

“Damn Jed! You've got fucking class like that! You're going to get everyone's attention like that.” said Mattew impressed.

“You... You think so? Well, thank you. You're not bad either.” answer Jed with a little smile while Danny smiles bigger. Of course, he’s handsome. he knows it since a long time.

“Frankly, you should have more confidence in yourself and your physique.”

“Is everyone ready?” said Melina by putting on her earrings. “woah what a class... If I didn't know you, I would have invited you for a drink.”

Danny sighed, shaking his head before he saw you. His heart missed a beat when he saw you in this purple dress, your hair well-coiffed, a very discreet makeup on your face. You looked like an angel. If you had been alone, believe me that Danny would not have hesitated for a moment to explore every part of your body. As Ghostface of course.

“You’re...you’re beautiful.” He said by placing a kiss on your hand.

“So are you.” you respond blushing at this gesture.

“If these gentlemen, ladies, are ready... we have a scandal to find.” replied Melina with a wink.

Danny slit his throat, in order to regain a countenance and then headed with the others to the car. As a good gentleman, he opened the door for you and let you ride the first one before settling down. Melina got behind the wheel and once everyone was tied up, she set out for Mr Hoggins' villa for the reception.

“Well remember everyone, the purpose of our presence is not only to cover the event, but also to find evidence about the plots of Hoggins and McKellan. Jed has to go to Hoggins' office without getting noticed, find the evidence, and then we're off. Got it?” said Melina looking at you and Danny in the rear-view mirror.

“We'll stay in contact with the little earbuds that our boss gave us! If we ever see any movement, we will notify you immediately!” said Mattew.

“if you're not too distracted by the butlers or some of the guests.” said Danny sneering.

Mattew slapped him on the knee, making him laugh even more. Then he put his attention to you, a big smile on his face thinking back to last night. Seeing you as confident but frightened as a little doe amused him a little.

The road seemed endless, almost falling asleep, but after an hour and a half drive, the villa of Hoggins was visible. Danny looked at you and saw that you were slightly stressed when you saw the building.

“Just relax. It's going to be all right. stays natural no matter what, okay?” He said, laying his hand on your shoulder.

“Okay...I’ll try my best, but It's going to be difficult.” You answer with a little smile.

Melina parked a little further and everyone got out of the car looking closer at the building. The group advanced to the front door, Danny warning the security that you were accompanying them. There were a lot of wealthy people tonight, discussing everything and nothing with such arrogance that, if Danny had a knife on his hand, he'd slit them all to the last, before gutting them and cutting them into thin slices.

They had a drink handed to them by a butler and took the opportunity to listen to the discussions between the guests. While some were delighted and surprised about this partnership, others were not really surprised.

Among them was Richard Hoggins, the master of the place. He must have been in his fifties, bald but straight and proud as a prince. Everything about this man was sweating lust, and that's what disgusted Danny to the point.

“You must be the journalists of the Roseville Gazette, I suppose? It's strange, your boss told me you'd only be 3...who is this lovely lady?” said Hoggins, placing a kiss on your hand.

“She came with us.” Said Danny, taking you by the waist to get closer to him. If there's one thing Danny doesn't like, it's to share what’s HIS. And if he doesn't want to end up as a headless rider, Hoggins better leave you alone.

“Well, I count on you to immortalize this evening so that all the newspapers of the state see the magnificence of my success. For the fifth time.”

“Sure Sir! Mattew and I would like to ask you about this, our readers want to know more about this new partnership you signed and its long-term future. it should last... 1 or 2 hours maximum?” Said Melina staying calm looking at Danny who nodded, understanding the message.

Hoggins nodded and took Melina and Mattew to a room away from the noise to chat quietly. Danny took his camera out of his purse and started taking pictures of the reception. If he didn't want to be spotted, he had to play his role. He took the opportunity to take a picture of you, which surprised you.

“A little souvenir of the evening, and the best photo I would have taken.” he said with a smile.

“So... what’s the plan?” you ask innocently.

“We'll take some pictures for the newspaper as planned. We have to go into hoggins’ office and find out what we are looking for. Don't lose sight of me and stay close enough to me. Okay?” he whispered at your ear.

“Okay.”

Danny took a few more pictures before putting his camera in his bag. Noticing that in the next room there was music and people dancing, a mischievous smile came to his lips. And why not enjoy it a little?

“Wanna dance? since we're here... we might as well enjoy it, right?” he asks, reaching out his hand towards you.

“I... I don't know how to dance... I never had the opportunity. And then we don't really have time for that... Don't you think so Jed?” you answer shyly and embarrassed.

“It's true. But it's not every day that you can go to a reception. And don't worry... I never had the opportunity to dance either.” replied Danny with a little smile.

You hesitate a few seconds before taking his hand. You both find yourself in the middle of the dancers and, if you didn’t know how to dance, Danny is an expert. He couldn't help but smile when he saw your desolate look every time you missed his foot or missed a step.

But little by little you pick up the pace. Everyone was looking at you two, Unintentionally, you became the center of attention. Danny doesn’t care, it flattered his ego, his narcissism fed on this attention.

And among all these worms, these rotten bourgeois to the marrow, there is you. An angel among the demons, a sheep among the wolves. You are HIS toy, and only to him. If you must be afraid, if you must feel in danger, it will be only because of him. And his mask. Until he kills you, tired of you.

After about thirty minutes, you finally stop dancing, but you don't let go of each other. Danny ends up being the first, clearing his throat to regain a countenance.

“See? You’re pretty good for someone who has never danced. Come on, we still got something to do.” he said before leaving the room, you at his heels.

He walked to hoggins’ office, but the corridor leading to it was closed and guarded. We're going to have to find another way in. One advantage for Danny is that there is no security camera. How does he know? When Danny does research, he studies everything. Absolutely EVERYTHING.

What? Did you forget who he was or what? It shouldn't surprise you though. Danny went outside, pretending to take some air before beckoning you to follow him discreetly. He was impressed to see how involved you were. You could be a good accomplice... if you were less naïve.

Escaping from all eyes, he saw the window of Hoggins' office slightly open. What an idiot... he is so pretentious that he leaves the windows open. It's an invitation to go home for our dear assassin. he is almost flattered.

“I could pass through the window... But I need to know if Hoggins is still interviewed. Mattew? Do you hear me? Hoggins left the room or not?” ask Danny

“Hey! No Melina continues to interview him. But she'll be soon run out of questions. How about you?” respond Mattew through the earbud.

“I found a way in. Stay careful and watch the door in the main room. It's the hallway that leads to the office.”

“No problem! Be careful! I'll warn you at the slightest movement!” replied Mattew.

“If you see anyone coming this way, stay natural, okay? Just pretend you're getting some fresh air outside.” said Danny to you before getting inside the office from the window.

One thing is for sure, this office is more luxurious than the rest of the villa: statues, paintings, a library going around the room, and an office so large that you could put 5/6 computers on it. This is what serves as an office for one of the most influential men on the market.

“It doesn’t surprise me to see this when you are one of the biggest crooks in the country... Tsk he deserves more than prison.” said Danny before examining the desk.

He opened the drawers one by one, looking for a folder, a letter, something that could be used for the newspaper. He eventually found a printed e-mail sent by McKellan. He said he was just waiting for the green light from hoggins before taking action to sink his competitor with whom he had just signed a partnership. That's exactly what he needed.

“Well, Hoggins...seems like YOU’LL be the one who sink soon. And maybe your head will fall too...just like McKellan. I think I found a new victim.”

“Jed! Hoggins goes to his office. Get the f**k out of here quick! Said suddenly Melina through the earbud.

Danny took a picture of the mail before closing everything and coming out the window, closing it as it was. Taking you gently by the arm, you return to the interior to find Melina and Mattew. But it's hard to spot them with all this crowd. He beckoned Melina when he saw her with Mattew and they both joined you.

“I found something. I'll show you this in the car.” said Danny discreetly.

“Too bad I would have liked to have taken advantage of it a little more …" said Mattew.

“Are you leaving already? I hope you were able to take some pictures...” Said Hoggins, looking at Danny with a smile.

“Don’t worry, I'm the best photographer you’ve never met.” responds Danny before taking a photo of Hoggins. “You will soon be able to admire your face on the Roseville gazette as well as on all the newspapers of the state.” he replied with an Insolent smile.

“Looking forward to seeing you again... Miss.”

You fake a smile and then leave the reception with the trio. You sigh in relief when you finally reach Melina’s car.

“I don't want to see this guy again... Never again.” you said worried.

“I promise you won't see him again. Look what I found.” said Danny before showing the picture to the others.

“Tsk motherf***er. He will pay soon. Let’s get out of here. This place made me sick. Said Melina before starting the car and go home.

The way home appeared shorter, and once you arrived, you and Danny picked up your bags where your clothes were. Then he drove, greeting Melina and Mattew before taking the road with you in the passenger seat. Arrived at your destination and once on the doorstep of your apartment you take off your shoes.

“I'm glad I'm not a woman. I don't think I would have had the faith to wear these things.” said Danny laughing.

“it's real torture. I'd like to be in your shoes. At least the only shoes you're wearing are sneakers.” you respond with a sigh. “but I don't regret this night. I had a great time. Let's hope we don't do this for nothing.”

“With this e-mail, we're sure to make things happen. Even the bribes won't save him this time.”

“Thanks Jed... Good night.” you said, placing a kiss on his lips unintentionally.

Danny was speechless. And it took him a few seconds to regain his spirits. You realized what had just happened and not knowing what to say, you back up to your door and go back to your apartment without saying a word more. Danny quickly returned home and quickly slammed the door, knocking on her.

“Shit! This is not the time! I have to stay focused... I can't destroy everything now. I can't... not right away.”

He goes to his office and get his bag before looking at his hunting board, especially Mike's photo.

He still has some work to do.

He has a gift to prepare.

***

(Done! I'll hope you liked it like the others! By the way, do you have a tumblr page to recommend me about slashers? See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

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ghostgothgeek · 4 years

Text

Stuck.

Wasn’t planning on posting anything for DannyMay except I realized one of my WIPs literally has the same title as the theme for today, so here we are.

2.3k. Rated T for swearing. FFN || AO3

On a list of ways Vlad Masters could spend his day, he certainly never had “get stuck in an elevator with Samantha Manson” on it.

The day had started like any other; there was a ghost convention in town. Ghost hunters from all over the world came to the infamously haunted Amity Park in hopes of seeing a ghost, but seeing the new inventions from the Fentons (who were a big deal in the ghost hunter realm) and sharing their enthusiasm about ghosts with others would be satisfactory enough. (They really hoped to see a ghost, though.)

Jack and Maddie Fenton had dragged their children to the convention this year, happy they didn’t have to travel halfway across the world and their children could join them this time. They wanted Jazz and Danny to experience what they had dedicated their lives to, and to support the presentation of their newest invention. Jazz naturally brought a thick book with her to read, and a notebook for detailing her people watching (and psychoanalysis of said people). Misery loves company, so Danny managed to convince his friends into coming along and keeping an eye out. If a ghost showed up, he wouldn’t exactly be able to transform into Danny Phantom at a convention filled with ghost hunters and all their new weapons.

Vlad had shown up to keep up with appearances, and to see what pricey new inventions he could buy for Valerie. Surely, Daniel would know how to handle his parents’ weapons, but not weapons made across seas. Most importantly, though, Vlad had shown up for Maddie Fenton.

Vlad glanced around at all of the new inventions, paying close attention to the specifications of the weapons in case he encountered any as Plasmius. He checked his watch. Only ten minutes until the Fenton’s presentation. He wouldn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to stare at Maddie for an hour and watch Jack make a fool of himself. Vlad smiled to himself as he pressed the button to call the elevator. Maybe if Jack embarrassed them enough, Maddie would finally come running to him instead.

Meanwhile, Danny and his friends were walking the convention floor. Tucker was occupied with a game on his phone, as usual. Sam was on a mission to find the most dangerous looking weapon, and Danny was just trying to keep an eye on things. Sam excused herself to go to the restroom before the Fentons’ big presentation, telling Danny and Tucker she would meet them there. Once her bladder was empty and her lipstick was reapplied, she headed for the elevator and tapped her foot impatiently as she waited.

It finally arrived, and Sam started walking towards the inside until she saw Vlad Masters was already occupying the elevator. She contemplated just walking up the five flights of stairs but decided the elevator would be faster and easier. “Why hello, Samantha,” Vlad slyly greeted. She sighed as she stepped inside and turned her back towards Vlad, ignoring him and pressing the elevator button repeatedly in hopes that it would make the elevator move faster.

The elevator started moving and Sam switched to chipping some of the black paint off her fingernails when all of the sudden, the elevator stopped. It was way too soon to have gone up five floors already. “Uh oh,” she noted and tried pressing the elevator button again with no success.

“Oh, look what you did.” Vlad groaned irritatedly and pressed the call button. He waited through several rings before accepting the fact that this convention center was severely understaffed. He would have to remember to do something about that. “Well, it was nice seeing one of Daniel’s young friends, but I’m afraid I can’t stay and chat.”

“Hey! At least have the common courtesy to phase me out, too.” Sam glared at him, seeing he was about ready to ditch her when she added, “Just imagine how grateful Mrs. Fenton would be if you saved one of her son’s friends from imminent boredom.”

Vlad considered the offer, pursing his lips and deciding it would put him in good faith with the Fenton Family if he helped Daniel’s pathetic goth friend. He completely forgot about the fact that he wouldn’t even be able to tell Maddie exactly how he helped the dark child, but that wasn’t important right now. “Very well,” he grabbed her arm and was about to transform into his ghostly counterpart until he noticed a camera built into the corner of the elevator, with the little red light on signaling it was recording and pointing directly at him. He sighed and let her go. He could try to find a way to find the footage and destroy it, but he couldn’t risk getting caught at a ghost convention, of all things. Not to mention, there was likely a ghost shield up.

Sam followed his gaze when he let go of her arm and sighed, “great.” She slid down the elevator wall to sit on the floor, pulling her phone out and texting Danny in hopes he could find some way to get her out. Vlad pulled his phone out as well, and shut his eyes in annoyance as he discovered it was dead. Sam’s phone pinged and she read the message, sighing in defeat and putting her phone back into her pocket. “Danny said they are aware the elevator is stuck and are waiting for the maintenance guy to come back from his lunch break and fix it. It may be awhile.” She adjusted herself on the floor so she was at least remotely comfortable. It could take ten minutes or it could take two hours for them to be rescued.

After a few minutes of silence, Vlad smirked and spoke up. “Well, since you’re here and are forced to listen, how about we discuss how you can convince Daniel to be on my side and-”

Sam cut him off and stood up. “You’ve got to be shitting me. Danny will never want to join you! He thinks you’re creepy, which you are. I mean, you want to marry his mom and have him be your child? That’s weird. You’re a grown-ass man, you need to get over this shit already. Mrs. Fenton won’t leave her husband, especially for you. You are a moron to think otherwise.”

Vlad stared at the girl wide-eyed for a moment before opening his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.

“Honestly, you’re so pathetic. You hurt and fight with Danny, who is old enough to be your child. Do you really have nothing better to do with your life? Don’t you have anyone else your own age to pick on? Because fixating on a child is just gross. And, you can’t even fight him yourself! No, you choose another child to do it for you. Lame.” She rolled her eyes at him.

Vlad didn’t know what to say. He was shocked into oblivion.

“Really, you don’t have anything better to do with your time or money? Do you know how much good you could do if you donated money to charities and organizations benefiting the environment? Instead, you choose to dress up like a vampire and be an asshole. Like Mrs. Fenton or any woman would fall for a guy like that. Plus, your whole vampire look? It’s so corny. Believe me, I’ve seen my fair share of vampire movies and read up enough to know they wouldn’t dress so stupidly. A cape? Really? Are you seven?”

“I-”

“You really need some hobbies. I mean, what have you even done with your life since you got ghost powers, aside from preying on and manipulating children and trying to grossly seduce a married woman who has zero interest in you? Seriously, get a life. Also, please actually stop with the whole vampire thing, you’re ruining it for me.” She sat down once again and smirked at Vlad’s agape mouth. She had the opportunity, she was going to take it.

“I mean, you aren’t terrifying or gruesome at all,” she continued, “you’re half dead and you aren’t even scary or even vaguely threatening. I’m sure more people are afraid of me than they are of you. I honestly don’t see why some of the ghosts in the Ghost Zone tolerate you; they certainly don’t respect you.” Sam picked at a scab on her arm.

“But...I’m scary! People respect me!” Vlad interjected.

“People only pretend to respect you because you’re the mayor, and you only won that by cheating. And ghosts don’t give two shits about you, the ghost who released Pariah Dark then fled at any hint of a challenge. Danny had to clean up your mess. Honestly, so pathetic.” Sam shook her head and watched as she flicked her scab across to Vlad, who flinched, and watched fresh blood rise to the injury. “And you are far from scary. My mom is more terrifying. And she’s a small woman who wears pink. Seriously, people see her coming and they move in the opposite direction. Oh gross, I guess that’s one thing I have in common with my mom…” She trailed off and made a face.

“I’ll have you know, Vlad Masters is well respected in the state of Wisconsin and Plasmius is feared in the ghost zone!”

“Survey says...no.” Sam whipped out her pocket knife from her boot and started carving some doodle into the floor. Vlad stared at the girl with wide eyes. What kind of fourteen-year-old girl carries a knife around to doodle?! “Danny beats you all the time and he’s younger than you. You’ve even been half ghost longer! Danny is less experienced and he still whoops your ass, seriously why are you so cocky?” She pointed the knife at him and he grimaced. “You’re just a pathetic little man-child who throws tantrums when he can’t get what he wants,” she rolled her eyes and finished with a “seriously go fuck yourself”.

Danny was pacing by the elevator door. It’s been 45 minutes and there’s no telling what Vlad could be doing to Sam in an enclosed space! She didn’t even have many weapons on her. He knows she’s tough and can hold her own but still! Vlad had been looking for every opportunity to get back at Danny, and holding Sam as a hostage would be a very good way of doing so.

“Come on, man he wouldn’t be stupid enough to pull something at a ghost convention,” Tucker started confidently, “er...right?”

Danny groaned, “I don’t know! I wouldn’t put it past him. God, if he hurts her, I swear-”

“I got it!” Some random maintenance guy pried open the elevator doors with a crowbar and stuck his arm inside to assist.

“Finally!” Danny ran over to the elevator and breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Sam scolding the man for touching her. At least she was alive.

The man quickly backed away and Sam popped her head out of the elevator, which was stuck between floors. “Hey Danny, hold this for a sec,” she tossed him her switchblade, which he fumbled in his hands and miraculously caught without stabbing himself or anyone else, as she climbed out of the elevator. She grabbed her knife and stored it back in her boot.

“Did he hurt you? Are you hurt? Tell me what he did I’ll-”

Sam ignored Danny’s questioning and she glared at the maintenance guy who was backing away slowly from her. “‘I got it’ my ass,” she mocked the man, “the only way you were even able to get a crowbar in the gap is because I made you one with my knife.”

“SAM!” Danny started shaking her, “are you okay?!” He looked at her arm where it was lightly bleeding. “You’re bleeding!”

“Stop. SHAKING. ME!” Sam shook him back until he cut it out. “I’m fine, this is from the other day with the Box Ghost. Vlad didn’t touch me.”

“Speaking of Vlad, is he still in there?” Tucker glanced back at the elevator.

After a few moments, out came Vlad Masters, looking as pale as a...well, you know. He was visibly shaken and looked quite disturbed. Once his feet were on solid ground, he took a deep breath and composed himself. When his eyes caught the lavender ones of the goth, he flinched. Sam smirked, while Danny and Tucker each raised an eyebrow.

“Are you alright, Mayor Masters?”

“God, Sam, what did you do to him?” Tucker quipped.

“Nothing! We just had a nice little chat is all…” Sam crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’m perfectly fine! I kept the child calm while-” Vlad tried explaining himself but with one look at Sam and one look at him, it was pretty clear who was shaken up about the whole thing. She cocked an eyebrow at him, as if to say “try me”. “I, uh, I’m fine. I gotta get going, lots of things to do…goodbye, Daniel. Daniel’s friend...Miss Manson, I’m so glad we came to an understanding-”

Sam lunged for him and he ran in the opposite direction. Danny gently held her back with one of his arms, “jeeze Sam, and to think I was worried about you in there.” He chuckled.

“You were worried about me?” Sam challenged.

Danny blushed, “I mean...we both, Tucker and I, worried, you know.”

Tucker laughed as Danny babbled, “Okay, but really, Sam. What did you do to him? He looks like he’s going to throw up!”

“Or shit his pants…” Danny added.

“Or cry…” Tucker continued.

“Funny,” she said sarcastically. Sam shrugged, “I just talked to him, gave him some of my Sam Manson charm.”

“Oh god.”

“Poor guy.”

#AKA Sam just roasts tf out of Vlad #also you can pry the 'AU where Sam carries a knife at all times' from my cold dead hands #Sam Manson #Vlad Masters #Danny Fenton #Tucker Foley #Danny Phantom #Stephanie writes sometimes #DannyMay #DannyMay2020 #am I doing this right idk

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stereksecretsanta · 3 years

Text

Merry Christmas, inatshej!

For @inatshej. I’ve never written a high school AU before, but I wanted to make Inatshej’s secret santa dreams come true. I hope I did your wishes justice <3

CW for homophobic bullying, but it's not the focus of the story. Also, there is brief mention of the death of Stiles' mother.

Read On AO3

*****

To Be Held By You

Derek knew there must be something wrong with him from a young age. He knew because how many times had his parents given their speech about the importance of raising the next generation for werewolf society? How many times had his uncle given the “werewolves will become endangered species if we don't procreate more” speech at a pack meeting? His purpose in life was to raise more cubs, and that required Derek to kiss a girl. He tried touching himself to pictures of Taylor Swift, but at the moment of truth his mind wandered back to Taylor Lautner.

High school proved even more challenging. Derek tried to join in his teammates’ objectifying discussions about their substitute teacher, Ms. Argent, but he felt like an obvious impostor. After basketball practice Derek hung back to shoot extra baskets to avoid being in the locker room. Later, to his dismay, someone else drew his eye in chemistry class.

“Mr. Stilinski. Glad you could finally join us,” Mr. Harris bit out as Stiles’ desk scraped against the floor.

Stiles looked lovely with flushed cheeks, Derek grudgingly admitted to himself.

“Sorry, I overslept. I had a busy night looking for that dead body in the woods.”

Mr. Harris gave a tight lipped smile while the rest of the class laughed at Stiles. Stiles either didn’t seem to care or didn’t realize the laughter was directed at him.

Jackson’s voice cut above the cruel raucous. “Stilinski here thinks he’s Scooby-Doo.” And then Jackson started barking obnoxiously.

Derek wanted to crawl under his desk. They sounded like a butchered version of a pack of angry basset hounds and it grated at his sensitive hearing. Not to mention poor Stiles. Derek watched to see his reaction, but Stiles just caught Derek’s stare and rolled his eyes. Derek’s face heated, and he glanced away.

***

Erica nudged Derek’s side. “Scott and Stiles are here.”

Derek glanced up from his plastic cup. The pounding beat of the bass almost drowned out her voice, and Derek had no way of hearing what Stiles was saying across the huge loft. His eyesight was certainly good enough to admire Stiles’ tight t-shirt though. “You know him?”

“Who, Stiles? Of course. I had a huge crush on him in middle school actually.”

Derek coughed on his next sip. “I thought he was a new kid.”

Erica waved her hand. “Nope. Actually, he’s the sheriff’s kid. Just took some time off last year because his mom was in the hospital.”

Derek braced himself. “Is she…?”

Erica nodded gravely. “She didn’t make it. But he seems like he’s back to his old self now. Want to see if they want some company?”

Derek tried in vain to grab her sleeve before she sauntered off. “No, Erica, wait-!” Derek waved away a girl’s paintbrush as he craned his neck to see what Erica’s was planning. Luckily, Derek could see through the throngs of people in the dim lights and glowing that Erica got sidetracked by running into Boyd. There was no distraction more helpful than the guy Erica was currently crushing on. However, unluckily, Stiles also got distracted. A pretty brunette with neon orange lips grabbed Stiles’ hand and dragged him to the dance floor. Derek strained to hear, but to no avail.

All the DJ’s songs blended into one another, so Derek couldn’t tell how much time passed. Eventually Erica sauntered over, happily under Boyd’s arm. In tow, was Stiles. It seemed they were all in the middle of a conversation.

Erica poked Stiles’ arm. “I thought you were into guys?”

Stiles took a gulp of his drink. “What do you mean?”

“You were making out with Caitlin. What about your crush on Danny sophomore year?”

Stiles scoffed. “Erica, I will have you know I am an equal opportunity lover.” At her smirk, he added, “I’m bisexual! Ever heard of it?”

Boyd gave Stiles a fist bump. “That’s cool, man.”

Stiles grinned and cupped his hands around his mouth to shout into the mess of writhing bodies. It was impossible he would be heard over the pounding music, but his new friends would hear. “I’M BISEXUAL AND I’M SINGLE!” His laugh warmed the already hot loft space. “Hey, I’m Stiles, by the way.” And then he winked at Derek.

Oh shit. Derek’s crush just got slightly more attainable. And that scared him.

***

On Monday at school Derek found Stiles waiting by his locker. “Hey dude, you’re looking pretty as ever.”

Derek gulped. “Um.”

Stiles stepped out of the way of Derek’s locker so he could put his backpack away. He licked his lips and his heart beat wildly. “So...Harris is making us pick lab partners today in chemistry. And I was thinking-”

Jackson’s bellow from the end of the hall cut in. “Yo Stilinski! Who let you into the party on Friday? Everyone knows you’re a narc!”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “You’re just jealous I wouldn’t dance with you, Whittmore.”

Jackson strode closer. “You hear that everybody? Stiles wanted me to dance with him.” He loomed over Stiles then and Stiles had to push his shoulders back against the lockers. “Too bad. I don’t dance with f*gs who run home and tell the Sheriff I host parties at my parent’s loft property.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Jackson sneered. “Don’t play innocent. My parents took my car keys and you’re going to pay for it. Just you wait.”

Stiles barked out a laugh. “You seriously think the Sheriff’s department gives a shit about you? Your parents probably found out because Matt tagged you on Facebook.”

That only seemed to enrage Jackson more. “You calling me stupid?” Jackson clenched his fist, but before he could move his arm, Derek wrenched Jackson’s arm back. The growing crowd backed up, expecting a brawl.

Derek usually tried to stay under the radar. If he got in any fights it could put their whole pack in jeopardy. The student body witnessing a 17 year old kid win a fight with ease and then walk away without a scratch always seemed too risky. But for Stiles, Derek acted without thinking.

Stiles’ eyes widened as Derek grabbed Jackson’s shoulder and shoved him to the other side of the locker bay. “Don’t touch him!” Derek’s barely contained strength hinted at a power Jackson could only dream of.

Jackson struggled against him, but couldn’t get loose. “Whoa, chill out, Hale,” Jackson sputtered. “It was just a joke.” Derek smelled the beginnings of fear now.

Derek leaned over Jackson to growl in his ear. “Leave Stiles alone or I won’t hold back next time.” He released Jackson, but not before flashing his eyes for good measure. Jackson’s veneer of superiority completely dropped away to reveal wide eyes. Satisfied, Derek dropped his arms and stepped back.

Jackson pushed his way through the onlookers. “Get out of my way, Greenberg.”

Derek shuddered. Shit. If his mom got wind of this…

“Dude! That was awesome!” They both glanced at the still gathered crowd. “Let’s get out of here.”

Derek followed Stiles down the hallway and around the corner into an empty classroom. “Isn’t this room usually locked during first period?”

Stiles grinned, eyes sparkling. “I have my ways.” Up close like this Derek could see they were about the same height.

The lights were off, but Derek’s eyesight picked up bean bags strewn in the corner.

“Don’t worry. I’ve memorized Ms. Blake’s schedule, because Scott and Allison sneak in here all the time to make out,” Stiles whispered into the dim light.

Derek took a shallow breath and scented the arousal permeating the bean bag chairs. He visibly blanched.

“Oh! Not that I brought you in here to make out!” Stiles reddened and took a step back from him. Derek missed the heat of his body. “I just wanted to get you away from the prying eyes before someone realized you were a werewolf.”

Derek’s stomach dropped. Had he let his family’s secret up after all? “What did you say?”

Stiles stopped short. “Was I not supposed to say anything?”

“How-, What-What do you know?”

“Relax, Derbear. I’m not a hunter or anything. My best friend’s a werewolf.” Stiles reached for his shoulder. He probably meant it to be a reassuring hold, but Derek couldn’t help but think this is the first time Stiles ever touched him. The heat and pressure of his hand left Derek reeling.

It took Derek a second to comprehend. “...Scott?”

“Yep,” Stiles said. Stiles gave his shoulder a final pat and took his hand off. “Bit by a rogue alpha a few months ago.

“Oh,” Derek managed. He supposed he remembered something familiar coming up in a recent pack meeting.

“We good?”

Derek let out a breath, and his lips turned up. “Yeah.”

“Cool.” Stiles grinned back. “So, what I was trying to say earlier. Do you want to be my lab partner in Harris’ class?”

“Sure, Stiles,” Derek said, still smiling.

The shrill bell interrupted the warm stillness. Derek listened at the door and nodded to Stiles. “The coast is clear.”

Stiles poked his head out, then strode back toward the lockers. The hallways were now deserted. “I guess Jackson didn’t send the dean over.”

Derek’s face darkened. “And he won’t if he knows what’s good for him.”

“Man, the toxic masculinity really does it for me apparently,” Stiles muttered. “Hey, do you think I’m attractive to straight guys?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.”

***

After that Derek’s friends unanimously adopted Stiles into their group. It seemed Stiles’ best friend since childhood spent all his time with his new girlfriend anyway. Erica loved having someone to talk boys with and Boyd enjoyed practicing lacrosse with someone who hadn’t betrayed him for the basketball team. (Derek tried to get Boyd to understand that it was easier for him to hide his wolf strength in basketball than in lacrosse, but Boyd wouldn't listen.)

After Scott’s particularly sappy winter formal proposal to Allison during lunch Stiles rolled his eyes and turned to the rest of the group. “So who’s going to the dance?”

Boyd glimpsed up from his chips and shared a smile with Erica, like they were in on the same secret.

Stiles stole Erica’s apple while she was otherwise occupied making doe eyes at her new boyfriend. “I meant other than the obvious lovebirds,” he grumbled. He glanced at Derek and his cheeks flushed.

Malia cut in before Derek could flounder over his words. “Derek’s taking Kira for me as usual. My dad would literally flip a table if he knew Kira and I are actually a couple.”

Stiles’ gaze broke away from Derek to gape at Malia. “Oh shit, seriously? Well aren’t you a good cousin, Derek.” Stiles got that calculating look that promised gears were turning in his head. It was never a good sign when it was directed at Derek. With a perfect air of casual he added, “Then I should take you, Malia, to avoid further suspicion. Derek and I can be de facto dates once we get to the dance and let you and Kira do your thing.” He winked at Derek then, and it was Derek’s turn to feel his face heat.

***

Up until then Derek’s crushes were unattainable, like a famous person or the cute counselor at werewolf summer camp. Now his crush was his “de facto” date to the winter formal. Against his better judgment Derek couldn’t stop staring at Stiles. He watched Stiles’ nimble fingers put Malia’s corsage around her wrist, and he shivered imagining what Stiles’ touch would feel like on his own skin.

“Everything okay, Derek?”

Derek started and turned to his mother. “Of course.”

“Kira seems awfully quiet today.”

They turned to see Kira watching Stiles and Malia posing for pictures with an unreadable expression.

“Um, I think she’s feeling awkward being the only kitsune here.”

“Right,” Talia said. “You know, that Stiles sure is charming.”

“I guess,” Derek grumbled.

“We’d better finish up with pictures soon then.” She winked at Derek. Addressing everyone, she said, “Alright everyone. One more group picture.” She motioned to the boys to line up. “Girls, stand in front of the boys.”

The wolves had been devising ways to avoid the lens flare. This time everyone was directed to look at their dates. The girls angled to look up at the boys, but at that moment Malia leaned over to whisper something in Kira’s ear, and the two of them giggled at one another. The shutter also caught Derek turning to gaze at Stiles at the same time Stiles happened to eye him too.

***

Stiles nudged him as they stood in line to the gym. “You clean up good, dude.”

Derek glared at his shoes. “You too.” That was an understatement. Stiles looked stunning in his fit, dark black suit. Stiles usually wore baggy flannel or sweatshirts. This was a new side of him Derek could absolutely get used to. The fact that Stiles left the first couple buttons of his shirt open made Derek’s mouth water. He wanted to bite that hint of collarbone.

Even Lydia, Jackson’s ex, eyed Stiles appreciatively and sent a sly smile his way. Stiles beamed back at her for a moment.

Once inside Derek’s ears had to adjust to the DJ’s booming volume and the smell of cologne overpowering the faint smell of gym socks. Stiles needed no adjustment. He grabbed Malia’s and Kira’s hands and pointed to the dance floor where Scott and Allison already were. Derek watched with amusement as Stiles and his friends formed a circle, Stiles dancing frenetically.

Derek himself wasn’t much of a dancer, but he was content to watch Stiles bounce around. While Stiles finished up a fast rendition of Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree with Lydia the tune changed to a slow ballad.

Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas... the speakers crooned.

Derek expected Lydia to find Jackson for this one, but to Derek’s horror Stiles turned to Lydia and pulled her close.

Derek may have been enjoying the occasional brush of their hands during chemistry labs, and he still savored Stiles’ hand on his shoulder, but he never got to be held by him like that. The song never seemed to end. If Stiles hadn’t had a partner for this one then maybe he would have turned to his “de facto” date.

Derek knew he was scowling, but hoped Stiles wouldn’t be able to tell from his vantage hooked over Lydia’s shoulder. Finally, the song ended and Derek could breathe again.

After the song ended Stiles strode up with punch in one hand. “Why so sour, Sourwolf?”

Derek’s jaw tightened. Something dangerously close to the truth flew out of his mouth. “You and Lydia looked pretty cozy.”

Stiles rubbed his hand over his buzzed hair. “When we were dancing?”

“Nothing. It’s stupid,” Derek grumbled.

Stiles nudged him goodnaturedly. “Were you jealous?” Stiles teased.

Derek blushed. “Shut up.”

“You’re such a sweet talker. Of course I’ll dance with you.” Stiles took Derek’s hand and pulled him to the dance floor.

It wasn’t the slow song Derek dreamed of. However, even with a fast song he could be close to Stiles. Stiles’ scent wafted around him; a mix of the dry cleaning on his suit, his pine deodorant that made him smell like the woods, and that exquisite scent all his own. Every now and then Stiles would take Derek’s hands and pull him closer or shimmy against him.

Dancing with Stiles almost made Derek forget they were in the same room where he had to practice basketball every weeknight. He could tune out his classmates shamelessly grinding on each other with the warmth of Stiles’ body. The twinkling lights on the ceiling actually seemed to transform the space to a winter wonderland as the winter formal posters had promised.

Just when Derek thought he might be getting a hang of where he should put his arms while dancing Erica and Boyd bounded up to them and pulled them apart.

“Who’s coming to Jackson’s party with us?”

Stiles seemed to shake himself. “Right now?”

“Yes, now, silly! No one stays after the DJ starts playing remixes of Jingle Bells.”

Derek’s scowl returned. He didn’t want the night to end yet.

Stiles shrugged. “I’m not keen on going to another Whittmore party.” Stiles eyed him, then said. “If everyone’s going to the loft party you and me can just hang out at my place and watch a movie or something.”

At that Derek had to duck his head to hide his grin. “Sure.”

***

Stiles’ home was small, but cozy. A warm lamp lit the couch in the living room, and the tree’s twinkling lights sent a sparkling glow across the rest of the room. The room was filled with Stiles scent mingled with the tree’s needles. Best of all, Derek couldn’t hear anyone else in the house.

Stiles gestured to the couch. “Make yourself at home. My dad’s working somet overtime tonight so we have the place to ourselves.”

Derek gulped. He sat on the couch and rubbed his hands over his thighs. Stiles’ long fingers undid the buttons on his suit jacket as he spoke, and Derek couldn’t turn away.

“Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Uh…” His mouth was suddenly quite dry.

“Dude. Earth to Derek.”

“Water’s fine,” he managed to croak out.

While Stiles tripped to the kitchen Derek glanced around the room and took in the family photo frames decorating the space, the homemade quilt that smelled faintly of perfume hanging over the back of the couch, and the impressive collection of DVDs.

“See anything you like?”

Derek jumped in an uncharacteristic startle. “What?!”

“Did you see a movie you want to watch?”

“Oh! I’m good with Marvel I guess.”

“Avengers it is,” Stiles said.

Derek couldn’t tell what time it was, but time seemed to stop in the Stilinski house. The old couch was worn and soft, with cushions deep enough to sink into. Stiles sat down close enough to bump their legs when either of them shifted. Stiles’ breathing echoed in Derek’s ears, and his heartbeat drowned out the battle sounds. Out of the corner of his eye Derek admired Stiles’ freckles on his neck and the enticing part of his lips. Stiles hypnotized him. That must be the only explanation for Derek letting his guard down.

“Chris Evans can get it,” Stiles said, practically drooling at the screen, oblivious to Derek’s admiration.

Derek harrumphed, arms crossed. “I like Tom Holland better.”

That got Stiles’ attention away from the screen. The devilish upturn of Stiles’ lips made Derek realize what just came out of his mouth.

“I mean…”

Stiles’ eyes traveled up and down Derek’s torso, his half smile never wavering. “I knew it. I knew you were into guys.”

“I don’t-, I mean...Fuck.” Derek hung his head. “Yeah.” For some reason Derek wanted to cry.

Stiles paused the movie and scooted closer to Derek on the couch. “Hey, man, I didn’t mean to freak you out. Despite my chatterbox reputation I can keep a secret.”

“No, that’s not it. I just...I’ve never said it out loud to anyone before.” He admitted it. He admitted he liked boys and the world was still spinning. Derek took a deep, shuddering breath. For years he feared his secret would disgust those he cared about, but instead the secret was out and the boy he liked was staring at his lips with a hungry gleam in his eyes. Suddenly it felt like he could do anything. “I’ve never kissed a guy before either.”

Stiles’ teeth grazed over his bottom lip. “Should I put my licorice down or am I reading this wrong?”

Derek huffed. “Put the licorice down, Stiles.”

The words were barely out of Derek’s mouth before Stiles plastered himself to Derek with a whimper. Derek arched against him. This was the most friction and heat he’d ever gotten from Stiles and he never wanted it to end. Derek’s lips were drawn to Stiles’ like the pull of the moon; it was impossible to fight. Every time Derek thought they should probably stop he leaned back in for just one more, and then another.

Stiles seemed equally transfixed. When Derek licked along the tendons on his neck Stiles uttered a series of desperate “Oh my god”s that left Derek gasping into a particularly sharp bite with his human teeth.

The unfamiliar crunch of tires drew Derek out of his haze. “Stiles, there’s someone in your driveway.”

Stiles pulled away. His chin was pink from Derek’s stubble and his lips plumped from their kissing in a way that made Derek want to dive back in. Gods that mouth. “...Shit my dad’s home. I didn’t know it got so late.”

They both sheepishly realized the movie ended ages ago.

“Do you want me to go?” Derek asked reluctantly.

“I want you to be my boyfriend,” Stiles sighed.

“Okay,” he said. And Derek sealed it with a brief peck before pulling back to give some semblance of composure for Stiles’ father, the sheriff, oh crap.

Stiles beamed at him from the other side of the couch. “Seriously?”

Derek nodded. He’d never been more sure of something before in his life.

***

Having a boyfriend was one thing. At school Derek could openly gaze at Stiles in class now and Stiles would blush and wink at him. But at home Derek hadn’t told his family just yet. When his mom came into his room the night before winter break he knew he wanted to start telling them the truth about him and Stiles.

“Knock knock. Derek, honey, do you want to bring Kira to Christmas Eve dinner?”

Derek gulped. “I’m not dating Kira.”

“You broke up?”

“Mom...Alpha. I have to tell you something.” Derek took a deep breath. “I don’t think I like girls at all actually. I like boys.” He couldn’t meet his mother’s eyes.

“That’s wonderful, honey. I’m so glad you finally told me.”

Derek raised his eyebrows. “You’re not mad?”

Her forehead creased. “You know I love you beyond the moon and back. Why would you think I’d be mad about your sexuality?”

“I’m not a good pack member if I don’t father children,” Derek said, studying the patterns in his floor.

Derek’s mother held him close and scented his neck. “Oh my darling Derek. You’ve been carrying so much in your heart.”

Derek’s breath hitched, but he tried to hold in his wet gasp.

She pulled back to sandwich his cheeks between her hands and meet his gaze. “There is no expectation of heterosexuality in our pack. Or in most packs. That is human nonsense, and I won’t stand for it.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh. Uncle Peter’s spent too much time in the Bible belt it seems. I should have removed his voice box years ago,” she grumbled. “Now, have you heard of the male penguin couples that raise abandoned eggs?” At Derek’s blank expression she continued. “Homosexual werewolves hold a great honor in our society. They fulfill the needs of adoption and foster parenting orphaned or abandoned cubs.”

“So I can still be a father someday?”

“Of course! I’m sure you and Stiles can find a way to raise children however you see fit.”

“Mom!”

“Really dear, you can’t expect a werewolf nose not to realize you were canoodling with him the night of the winter formal. You came back reeking of- Well let’s just say, a werewolf household doesn’t offer as much privacy as one would think.”

Derek groaned. “Well, I guess in that case no one will be surprised if I bring him as my boyfriend to Christmas Eve dinner.”

“He’s always welcome here.” She kissed his forehead and Derek felt tears prick at his eyes. He couldn’t wait to call Stiles to tell him the news.

#inatshej #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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ayamari-no-goshi · 3 years

Text

Verboten 14 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary: AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things

Chapter warning: being attacked at home

Parings: Danny/Sam

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances

Chapter 14

“Well, at least we know your parents could hire him to clean their ceilings if he stays stuck up there.”

“You’re not helping, Tucker,” Danny snapped at him from his spot on the ceiling.

More amused than surprised anymore, he just let Sam continue to try to help Danny change back to his human form while he worked on his own project. When Sam messaged him earlier that there was an issue, he hadn’t expected to walk into Sam’s room and find Danny, in all his ghostly glory, sitting cross-legged on the ceiling above Sam’s bed and having a panic attack. After taking in the absurdity of the situation, he tried for several minutes to help Sam somehow get him down. When all rescue attempts failed, mostly because Danny couldn’t seem to hold on to anything they threw at him, Sam moved to a different tactic. She hoped getting him to relax would somehow help.

Since that wasn’t his forte, Tucker decided his way of helping would be to finish reviewing the information he got from Plasmius while making comments about his friend’s predicament. Although he knew the digs annoyed Danny and Sam, he needed to do it for his own sanity.

Up until this point, Tucker really hadn’t registered the paranormal as being truly real. Sure, they did get abducted by a crazed ghost and then attacked by an even crazier ghost, but the more time passed without a ghostly incident, he had almost rationalized it as some stress induced hallucination. Almost being the key word. He knew his best friend had been fundamentally changed by the event, but other than the freak out at school and his now permanently chilly skin, Danny hadn’t done anything ghostly until now. Speaking of which…

“How exactly did you end up like this?” he questioned moments before Danny finally fell from the ceiling and landed face first on Sam’s bed. “You okay, dude?”

“More okay then I was when I was stuck on the ceiling,” he sighed as moved himself to the edge of the bed. His unnatural green eyes scanned the room as if searching for something. “I’m like this because of Plasmius.”

“Wait, wait? That’s a pretty big thing to neglect to mention.”

“I’m sorry I got distracted by discovering I was walking around in my ghost form or whatever you want to call it.”

“Don’t antagonize him, Tucker. That seems to make things worse,” Sam scolded as she pointed at Danny, who started to float again. “See? But that is pretty important.”

Danny huffed as he experimentally shifted, making it look like he was just lying on his stomach… in mid-air. Seemingly alright with the position, probably because he was only about a foot above the bed, he continued. “Look, I was planning on immediately telling you guys as soon as Tucker arrived, but I panicked when I realized I couldn’t change back. But since that doesn’t seem to want to change any time soon, I guess I just explain what happened.”

Once Danny was done, Tucker let out a whistle. “That’s some story. Glad he let you go, but it’s really creepy that he can just pluck you into that other world when he wants.”

“Why was he here in the first place?” Sam asked as she worked up enough courage to sit near where Danny was still floating. “That’s what’s bugging me about it. Was he just really here for information?”

“That’s what I don’t get either. Whoa! I’d like it if my body would make up… its mind?” As Danny fell onto the bed once again, a blinding light suddenly washed over him. Once it faded, he was back in his human form. “Well, at least that fixes that problem for now.”

Deciding not to comment on his friend’s obvious relief, Tucker somewhat changed the direction of the conversation. “At least Plasmius confirmed he’s interested in Vlad Master’s companies for something nefarious. Most of what I’ve gotten so far on that data are files on different employees.”

Danny’s eyes lit up at the statement. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Vlad’s in town.”

“That’s convenient,” Sam dryly stated after she shared a look with Tucker. “Why’s he here?”

“Apparently, when my parents asked him for help getting some information, he decided he needed to be directly involved. He was visiting when I got up.” He glanced down and wrung his hands before adding, “But he seemed really off today.”

“Off how?”

“He gave me literal chills. I mean, if I think about it, that’s happened when ghosts were around, but not people. He also seemed off… like he was a different person.”

Unnerved, Tucker placed his PDA on Sam’s desk. “I hate to bring this up, but didn’t you say that thing that attacked you was able to change how it looked?”

Danny’s eyes widened briefly before he shook his head. “I… I don’t think that’s it. It was close, but there was still something off about how it looked. It also didn’t feel the same… the chill was different. Vlad felt… Vlad felt like Plasmius but not as strong? I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You mentioned that chill before when you freaked out because of Maura… do you think you can sense other ghosts now?” Tucker felt himself grin despite the situation. “I mean, cuz if you can, that’s really useful. I’d like to be able to stay on the complete other side of the city from where that creepy thing is.”

“Maybe? I certainly didn’t notice anything like it when we were trapped or escaping from Plasmius… but he did say something about how that’s possible.” A thoughtful expression briefly crossed his face, until he gave a wry grin. “Fat load of good it does if it only goes off when something is like ten feet away.”

“Darn. Well, still let me know if you notice anything else weird. I’d like a head start over anything that might harm these good looks.”

xxx

After their initial discussion of what happened, the rest of the time was spent seeing if Danny could get any sort of control over his ghost form. It took a while, but he did manage to find the preverbal trigger for the change. Via a couple hours under Sam’s Spartan-equse training, he was finally able to change to and from on command. While he hoped he’d have a chance to work on more of his abilities, it was definitely a success.’

Around dinner, he and Tucker left Sam’s and headed to their own respective houses. While his parents were relieved to see him before sundown, he couldn’t return the feeling. Vlad was still in the house. According to his parents, the businessman would be staying with them in the guest room for a while.

“A while? How long’s a ‘while’?” he questioned as he looked for something to drink in the fridge.

“Well, that’s up to Vlad,” his mother replied as she added a few shakes of something to what smelled like stew. Vlad and his father were still in the lab. “While he’s not entirely certain how long he will be able to remain away from his businesses, he’s hoping to be able to stay for a couple weeks.”

Unhappy with that answer, Danny grabbed his drink and disappeared into his bedroom. If he was honest, he wanted to practice more with his abilities. It would be a shame not to with how much progress he made earlier, but he wasn’t exactly certain what tools his dad and Vlad might be using. Some of them where supposedly able to detect differences in energy levels. Without knowing the specifics of his abilities, he really didn’t want to clue them in.

Actually, was he ever going to tell his parents? That was a good question. Right now, when he didn’t have much control or understanding over anything, it didn’t seem like a good idea. Perhaps down the road? Maybe. Actually, maybe they might have so information regarding what happened to him.

A little later, his parents called him down for dinner. For him, it was a relatively normal affair, save for the chills Vlad kept giving him. Seriously, what was up with that? Vlad had been a fixture in his life for years, and there was never an issue before. Maybe Plasmius somehow influenced him or something? He guessed it was possible. There were legends about ghosts doing stuff like that, but he had no idea how to even begin figuring that out.

After dinner, he once again retreated to his room. Frustrated, he decided a few hours of Doomed would be a good distraction from everything.

…

Right around three am, something woke Danny. Rubbing his eyes, he realized he fell asleep gaming. Stretching, he turned off the game before checking one of his drawers for clean pjs. Deciding it wasn’t worth it, he headed to his bed only to stop when his breath misted in front of him.

Now wide awake, he stopped and listened. There were the normal sounds of the furnace and his dad’s snores. Wait, the furnace? Then why could he see his breath a moment ago? Spooked, he opened his door as quietly as possible and stuck his head out into the hallway.

Nothing seemed out of place. No one was in the hall. There was no light from his parents’ room or the spare bedroom Vlad was using. Deciding something still didn’t seem right, he crept down the hall and peaked down the stairs.

Eyes, dark eyes with a faint red glow, peaked out at him from the darkness of the living room. Knowing whatever it was saw him, he panicked and ran towards his parents’ room. “Mom! Dad! There’s something in the house!” he yelled as he frantically beat on the locked door. Of course it was one of those nights.

“Oh my god, what is that thing?” Vlad’s voice and the growl that followed forced his attention to the staircase. The sickly gray color of its skin made it somehow stand out in the shadows. The creature, the same one Danny encountered in the alleyway, stood in all its horrible glory at the top of the stairs. Its face was twisted in a grotesque snarl, and it swayed slightly. With an uneasy jolt, Danny realized the thing seemed to be debating who to go after first.

At the sound of the lock on his parents’ door turning, the thing lunged forward. Danny barely had time to register his mother pulling him into the room while his father roared, “Eat this!”

The familiar whine of one of his parents’ blasters powering up was followed by a blinding green blast and then another. As his parents decided to chase the thing, he curled up behind the door. The sounds of the blasts and something else, something unnatural, crashing into furniture could be heard from the downstairs.

How did that thing get in the house? Better yet, how did it find him? It was his fault. He needed to help, but what could he do? He had no ability to fight against it. Heck, he still didn’t know what it was other than dangerous and evil.

When the sounds in the downstairs stopped, he held his breath and waited. A sigh of relief escaped him when his mother called for him and Vlad. Not caring he was a teenager and by default hated hugs from family members, raced to his mother’s side and embraced her. Understanding he was frightened, she rubbed his back and reassured him she was fine.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the light snapped on to reveal blast marks, destroyed furniture, and Vlad appraising the scene from the bottom step, “but what exactly was that thing? Should I contact the police?”

Embarrassed someone saw him, Danny quickly let go and retreated a few steps. His mother smiled at him before replying, “It’s already been taken care of.” She pointed to what Danny recognized as the button of one of the alarm systems; it was flashing. “Jack’s checking the perimeter to make sure that thing is gone. In the meantime, I’m going to make us hot chocolate.”

“But what if that thing comes back? Surely Jack wouldn’t just leave you alone.”

She flashed him a grin as she held up a miniature blaster. “Thank you for being concerned, but I’m actually the better shot between the two of us.”

After glancing at Vlad, who seemed both dumbfounded and proud, Danny hurried into the kitchen after his mother. He really didn’t want to leave her side if that thing came back.

“Danny,” his mother stated after they were seated at the kitchen table with hot chocolate in hand, “be honest with me, was that the same thing you saw in the alleyway?”

He took a sip of his drink before answering her. “I… I think so. I mean, I’m not exactly sure if it was the same thing or not, but it looked similar.”

“You’re telling me that’s the thing you’re researching?” Vlad sounded surprised, but Danny noticed how tightly he gripped his mug. Why did he seem angry? “That thing was an abomination.”

His mother nodded. “While there are some stories regarding things like that in folklore, most of the recent ones seem to be more fiction than fact, so Jack and I tended to disregard them.” She sent him an apologetic smile, “However, with Danny’s report, we decided to look into it and didn’t like what we found. That’s why we reached out because we needed to get the resources to verify the data.”

“What do you mean you didn’t like what you found?” His whole body felt icy again, but this time, it seemed to be from fear and not some paranormal creature.

“I want to verify something with the officers,” she glanced at the clock on the wall before muttering, “when they finally get here first. However, if Jack didn’t manage to get it, I’m not sure if it’ll come back or not. We definitely wounded it,” she pointed to a spot in the living room where something wet, dark, and faintly glowing could be seen, “but I don’t know if that was enough to ward it off or if it’s vengeful enough to return.”

“But why was it here?”

“If I may?” Vlad glanced at his mother, who nodded. “If it was in fact the same creature Daniel saw, it may have come for him, or, it simply could have been drawn to the house. Forgive me, but you do have a lot of ectoplasm and other potential energy sources on hand.”

“Hmm… we have been meaning to update our storage devices. That can easily be done, but if Danny is a target, that would be much harder to fix.” His mother reached out and gently put her hand on his. “Sweetie, don’t take this the wrong way, but your father and I are worried you might have been changed because of your disappearances.”

That was putting it lightly, he ruefully thought. However, instead of agreeing, he asked her to explain what she meant.

“Well, you know we theorized you temporarily slipped into a different dimension when you were younger? It’s possible that somehow altered you. Pass reports of those ‘spirited away’ often report the person was somehow changed. Since before you seemed fine, save for the times we caught you staring as if you saw something we couldn’t, we figured you may have developed a sensitivity to the paranormal.”

He nodded. That made sense. Although, he was embarrassed his parents picked up on how he sometimes saw those shadows. Apparently he didn’t do nearly as good of a job as he thought at keeping that a secret.

His mother bit her lip before continuing. “But, this past time… something changed. I know you told the police you were abducted by a person, but the complete disappearance and then reappearance… and that none of you who disappeared could be tracked… and the injuries… and how that poor boy was found… it never made sense it was a human. And when you came back, the changes in your vitals, we knew there was something more to it. You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not ready,” she added when she noticed his panicked expression, “but whatever changed might have made you something like beacon to creatures of other worlds.”

His mouth felt dry. His parents actually suspected there was something off about him, and they just accepted it? Should he tell them how much he really changed? No, Vlad was in the house. He didn’t need to know anything about it. However, he could start probing for some of the answers he wanted. “If… if I have changed, how…?”

“We’re not exactly sure what will happen in the long run,” she replied as she picked up on his train of questioning. “Old accounts vary, and it’s difficult distinguishing fact and legend. Anyways, Danny I just want to verify the thing that attacked us tonight and whoever abducted you on the camping trip are not the same thing.”

He violently shook his head. “No, they’re completely different…”He debated with himself for a moment. Should he tell her about Plasmius appearing? Or the thing Clockwork discovered? Or the horde that attacked Sam, Tucker, and their classmates on the way back? “At least, whoever took me, Sam, and Tucker was completely different. I don’t know what grabbed the others.” That was true enough.

Vlad remained unusually quiet during the exchange, but unlike other times where he seemed disinterested or involved, this time it seemed like he was mulling over something. Also, Danny hadn’t missed the way his eyes narrowed when he added on the information about the camping abduction.

A knock at the door spooked everyone. They turned to see his dad opening the door followed by a couple police officers. “I found the police!” he said with a grin. “They thought it was another false alarm.”

“False alarm? False alarm?” His mother stood and marched over to the officers who were taking stock of the damage with wide eyes. “My family gets attacked, and you have the nerve to think it was a false alarm? If my husband and I didn’t have the means to defend ourselves, we would have been killed!”

Danny just sighed and continued sipping his drink as he watched his mother scold the officers. His dad joined him. Both of them knew it was better to let her get it out of her system than to try to get involved. Besides, he’d probably never get to see police officers get chewed out like that ever again. Now if only he had some popcorn.

====

Note: if it hadn’t been implied earlier, Maddie and Jack are going to be involved/decent parents in this fic. It makes sense with how this story is laid out – their son has gone mysteriously missing 3 times. They try to keep an eye on him.

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the-silvr-speedster · 4 years

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The Totally Crazy Adventures of the Astro Ambassadors

Fandom: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Relationships: Daisy Johnson / Daniel Sousa, Daisy Johnson & Kora, Kora & Daniel Sousa

After they return from their six-month mission in space, Daisy, Daniel and Kora want just a bit of peace and quiet before they are shipped off on another space adventure. But Mack has other plans for them since they are needed for one more short mission. However, things might not go according to plan and without the extraction team, they have to rely on a teleporting device they've never used before.

Chapter 1: Just One More Adventure

Read on AO3 or here ↓

I teased last week that I am working on something and now I deliver. It took me longer then anticipated, the story started to write itself so it was taking different turns than those I originally planned, and I was unfortunatelly most productive only from midnight until 4 a.m. Anyway, here is my new multichapter fic. I hope you like it. Updates should come every week on Wednesday. Hopefully.

I am sorry for any mistakes. I don’t have a beta.

So, the story begins in October 2020 (oh, how much I would love to live in their corona-free universe), about four months after the one year jump in the last episode.

It will totally make my day better if you leave kudos, comments or reblog this. I need positive motivation.

Happy reading!

“I like this,” Daisy mumbled contently, twirling a reddish maple leaf in her fingers absentmindedly. She was sprawled on a blanket with her head placed on Daniel’s lap, watching the rustling leaves of the maple tree above her.

It was a nice day in early October. Warm enough for a picnic at their favorite spot in a park yet a bit chilly with the fresh autumn breeze but that was nothing a warm blanket and hot cocoa couldn’t solve.

Daniel stopped reading a book and looked down at her with a smile. “What in particular?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” Daisy said unsure, meeting his eyes. “This? Right now, right here. Us. The peace and quiet,” she paused before looking at him again. Seeing his amused expression, she added: “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I can appreciate peace and quiet.”

“Uh-huh. Right. But only for so long before you barge into another storm…or cause it,” Daniel laughed at her mock offended pout.

Daisy playfully smacked him on the arm. “That’s not true and you know it. I don’t cause problems anymore. I am the commander of Zephyr-3.”

“Hmm…Termans would disagree,” Daniel chuckled.

“Hey!” She gasped. “That was on Kora, not me!”

“If you say so,” Daniel shrugged and picked the book up again, a teasing grin spreading on his face. “Quake.”

Daisy groaned. If she ever thought that he’s gonna drop the whole Quake thing after some time, she had never been more wrong. Not when most of the universe out there knows her as Quake.

“Don’t push your luck Danny-boy.”

“Or what? You quake me?” He asked her with a raised eyebrow and a glint in his eyes.

“Definitely not. It’s not a punishment when you actually want it,” she winked at him teasingly. “No, you will sleep on a couch.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t do that.”

“Yes, I would,” Daisy stuck her tongue out and then yelped when Daniel proceeded to tickle her. “You…really…wanna…find…out,” she managed to get out in between giggles.

When he finally stopped his attack, she took a moment to catch her breath, watching his smug expression. “You are a dork,” she said with a huge grin.

“I love you, too,” he told her, a tender smile playing on his lips.

She sat up and cupped his cheek in the palm of her hand. Daniel leaned into her touch and placed his hand on top of hers, the engagement ring on her finger lightly pressing against his palm. He moved her hand to his lips and placed a small kiss on her fingers, his eyes never leaving hers. Well, forget the cocoa, this warmed Daisy up much more. She closed the distance between them bringing their lips together in a short but sweet kiss.

“I love you,” she whispered like it was a secret kept just between the two of them. Their faces lingered close to each other for a while longer, just to enjoy their little bubble. Daisy then changed her position and leaned against Daniel’s side. He snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her even closer and placed a kiss on her temple before grabbing the forgotten book again.

Daisy let out a content sigh. “This is what I meant. I like being out there, exploring the universe with you and Kora and our team but…I love this, too. I missed it for those six months we were away. Just the two of us enjoying some time together without other people and…mission updates and…looming threats…” She looked up at him and let out a soft laugh. “I’m rambling now, aren’t I?”

“I like listening to your rambling,” he said and kissed her temple again. “And I know what you mean. I feel the same way. I like our adventures but I love our time together. Just the two of us. But hey, we have a couple of months before the next mission is scheduled. So, we are okay.”

“Yeah. We have a wedding to attend to,” Daisy grinned at him.

“Uh-huh.” Daniel looked at her with a small smile. “That wouldn’t be very nice if we didn’t show up there now, would it?”

“It definitely wouldn’t. We are too important,” she laughed lightly and put her head on his shoulder.

Daniel shifted his focus to the book again but before he resumed the reading, a memory crossed his mind and he let out a chuckle.

“What?” Daisy asked curiously.

“You know, the first time we came here to have a picnic you said ‘How very square of you’ and how sappy and tooth-rottingly sweet we sound and look. Sitting here under the tree, me reading to you, you laying on a blanket with your head in my lap always trying to hide that big smile of yours…and failing,” he laughed and shook his head. “And now…”

“And now I say I like it,” she mumbled into his shoulder and cringed as she said it. “I think I just…I guess I blame you for that,” she told him lightly.

“Me?” he asked jokingly, turning his head to look at her but Daisy kept staring at her fingers, playing with the engagement ring on her left hand.

“Yeah. I’ve never thought I would like something like this before I met you. An ordinary life. Well, as ordinary as one can get while still working for S.H.I.E.L.D.,” she chuckled softly. “And even before joining S.H.I.E.L.D….I’ve never thought I could have this. I just couldn’t see it for myself, growing up the way I did. And later I’ve thought I…I don’t deserve this.”

“Daisy- “

“So yeah. Uh…I still think we are overly sweet sometimes but…” she looked up and met Daniel’s warm brown eyes, “I like it. I always did. I’ve just never thought I could be this person. And I have you to thank for that. You showed me that I can be this person…that I deserve a little normalcy in my life.” She lowered her gaze again, her hands picking at his shirt this time. “That I deserve to be loved and to love.”

“Of course, you deserve it. You deserve the best things in the universe,” Daniel put the book down and ran his hand through her hair before cupping her cheek and guiding her face to look up at him again. There were unshed tears shining in her beautiful eyes. She tried to blink them away offering him a watery smile. But then with a little shake of her head, she switched back to her joking self.

“Gah! Even now I sound so corny! I don’t even recognize myself sometimes. Kora says you are rubbing off on me. Making me a dorky square like yourself,” she smirked and poked him in the chest. “She says it’s annoying. But you know what? I don’t care.”

Daniel gave her his best lopsided grin. “Because you love this dorky square?”

“Yep. Exactly,” Daisy flashed him the biggest smile. “And…I like to annoy my little sister.”

They were suddenly interrupted by the ringing of Daisy’s phone. She sighed as her hand dived into the back pocket of her jeans, fishing it out. She cursed silently as she saw the caller ID flashing across the screen. There go peace and quiet.

“We were pushing our luck earlier. It’s Mack,” she informed Daniel with a sad smile, knowing that whatever it is, it will involve getting back to work, even if it’s Sunday.

“Hey Director, what’s up?” she asked him lightly.

“Hey Tremors,” Mack started with a tired sigh. The man just keeps working too much. “Listen, I know that it’s a weekend and you’ve just got back from space few days ago but I need you to come in. Both of you, assuming Sousa is there with you.”

“What’s going on? You sound tired,” Daisy remarked worriedly.

“I’ll disclose the details when you get here. Come as soon as you can,” he replied.

“Okay. Uh, we can be there in…thirty?” She said, uncertain, meeting Daniel’s eyes for confirmation. He nodded.

“Great. See you then.”

“See ya.” Daisy kept her eyes on Daniel and shrugged as the call ended.

“So, I guess we won’t finish the chapter today,” he commented, book in hand.

“I guess not.”

⁂

When the duo arrived at Triskelion some twenty minutes later, they bumped into Kora in the lobby. She looked a little disheveled, annoyed expression plastered on her face.

“I guess Mack called you guys, too. On Sunday of all days,” she mumbled with a hoarse voice.

“Were you…sleeping?” Daisy asked her, raising her eyebrows.

“And? It’s Sunday. We came back from space four days ago. I have a lot of sleep to catch up on. And I can finally sleep in a normal bed,” she defended herself fiercely.

“Ooookay. Let’s go find Mack and get this over with so we can all go home and relax…or whatever,” Daisy offered and started to walk towards the elevators.

When they reached Director’s office, Mack opened the door before they even had the time to knock. He quickly ushered them inside and closed the door behind them.

“What- “ Daisy started but Mack cut her off.

“Sagittarians contacted HQ earlier today. They want to meet up and discuss a potential alliance.”

“You really don’t beat around the bush, do you?” Daniel remarked and Mack just shrugged.

“Are you kidding me?” Daisy spoke up a little too loudly, clearly frustrated. “We stopped on Berhert less than two weeks ago on our way home and they refused to talk to us. What changed?”

“They didn’t care to elaborate on that. But they want to meet up today,” Mack informed the three agents.

“Yeah, that’s funny. Since it will take us almost two days to get there. It’s three jumps away and the jump drive needs to charge in between the jumps…so…not today,” Kora explained as she plopped into a chair with a heavy sigh.

“They know that. That’s why they are sending someone to get you,” Mack stated, his hand scratching his beard in thought. “Apparently, they have some kind of advanced tech for interstellar travel without the need to use a spaceship.”

“Well, they are known for their impressive technology. That much we gathered about them by visiting other planets. We didn’t see much ourselves since they didn’t give us the permission to land,” Daisy grumbled still frustrated after the last encounter with the aliens.

“But isn’t it just a different version of our jump drive?” Daniel asked, leaning against Mack’s table. “Like the one we have on the Zephyrs but it moves just people around the galaxy?”

“No. These jump drives…we didn’t invent them,” Mack tried to clarify. “We got one from a crashed Confederacy ship and recreated more, thanks to Deke. So, yeah, he basically stole the technology. The original one could teleport even people themselves without the need of a spaceship. But it was always a one-way trip unless there was another jump drive on the other side.”

“Meaning?” Daniel gave him a confused look.

“Meaning that whatever tech Sagittarians possess, they are probably teleported with the device in hand,” Daisy explained to him and then turned to face Mack. “But Deke redesigned the original jump drive to be wearable. Remember? He used it to get to the temple.”

“And failed to get back to the Lighthouse,” Mack remarked. “Look, whatever they have, we’ll see soon enough. But I have to say, having a device like that in S.H.I.E.L.D. would be very useful. You guys wouldn’t have to spend so much time drifting in between planets and could spend more time at home.”

“Sleeping in a normal bed,” Kora added dreamily.

Daisy raised an eyebrow at her and sighed. She had to admit that it would be a much more comfortable way for visiting planets.

“So, what are our orders Director?” she asked.

“Suit up. They’ll come to get you in two hours,” he paused, thinking. “If they will be willing to trade one of those devices, we have to come up with a suitable counteroffer.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” Daniel shrugged. “Considering how they refused to talk to us only to change their mind so suddenly. I don’t really trust them.”

“We’ll do our best and see how that goes,” Daisy fixed everyone with a determined gaze. “Let’s suit up.”

“Just one more adventure for the Astro Ambassadors before a few months break,” Daniel muttered pushing himself off the table.

Kora groaned and Daisy shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips as she led the way out of Mack’s office so they could get ready for their new mission.

⁂

Two hours later they were all gathered in the HQ’s hangar waiting for the Sagittarians to show up. Wearing her Quake suit, Daisy was shuffling her feet nervously, standing between Mack and Daniel. She couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. There was just something unsettling about the way the Sagittarians changed their mind so fast. She doesn’t know much about them but what she does know is that they are a monarchy led by a princess called Daydra who may or may not have some dispute with her uncle who is the head of their military. The last thing Daisy wanted was to get mixed up in family affairs and instead of a new ally make a new enemy. Daniel, being as observant as ever, took her hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She offered him a grateful smile in return.

Suddenly they were startled by a bright blue light in front of them. They shut their eyes to block the light and when they opened them again two tall grey-skinned aliens stood before them. One was a male and the other was a female, both looking like warriors. The woman had long black hair woven into a braid and her dark grey eyes were studying the humans in front of her cautiously yet with a drop of curiosity. Slightly taller than her, the man had an impressive white mustache and was bald with-

“Is that…a fin on his head?” Kora whispered in Daisy’s ear from behind.

“I…think so?” Daisy whispered back.

“Greetings Terrans. My name is Brodin,” the guy with the fin spoke. “I am a Captain of the Royal Guard and I and my second-in-command, Adlynn, were tasked to bring you to our planet Berhert for the scheduled meeting with Princess Daydra, our fearless leader.”

The group of humans shared a look between each other before Mack spoke up.

“I am Alphonso MacKenzie, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.. Welcome to Earth. I believe we spoke to each other when you contacted us this morning.”

“That is correct. I see you assembled the small team you wanted to send as emissaries since you will not be attending personally,” Brodin commented, pointing his hand towards Daisy, Daniel and Kora.

“Yes. They are some of our best agents,” Mack looked at the trio standing by his side with a proud smile. “Leaders of the special team tasked with space exploration and acquiring new allies…and assessing the threats from outer space.”

“That has been a wise decision on your part. There are many threats out there,” Adlynn spoke for the first time.

“Yes. We had enough bad luck to cross paths with some of them,” Mack remarked with a sigh. “So, anyway, this is Agent Daisy Johnson,” he put his big hand on Daisy’s shoulder. “She is in command of Zephyr-3 and its space exploring team.”

Daisy smiled at the two aliens and gave them a nod.

“Next to her,” Mack continued, “is Agent Daniel Sousa. He is her second-in-command or a first officer on Zephyr-3.”

“Nice to meet you.” Daniel, as polite as ever, offered them a hand to shake but Daisy could hear an edge to his voice, which was missing its usual warm friendliness.

“Likewise,” Brodin replied with a neutral voice and shook Daniel’s hand as did Adlynn.

Daisy sighed in relief because she could still vividly remember the time when Daniel offered a handshake on a planet where it was considered inappropriate due to rules of no physical contact in public. She had to quake a guard off of him and then explain in length that they didn’t know it was forbidden since on Earth it’s a gesture of friendship. They barely evaded the prison and were immediately exiled from the planet, never to return back. It was impossible to learn the etiquette rules of all the planets before they visited them.

“And finally, this is Agent Kora Johnson. She is one of our best pilots and a valued member of this team,” Mack pointed to Kora who in the meantime moved to stand on Daniel’s other side.

“We came to your planet like ten days ago and you refused to let us land,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Kora!” Daisy hissed warningly while Daniel tensed beside her and Mack ran his hand down his face with a sigh.

“What? It’s the truth. We came as emissaries too and they refused to talk to us. Now they are suddenly willing to,” Kora voiced her concerns.

“We are deeply sorry for that. There was…a misunderstanding on our end that had nothing to do with you,” Adlynn explained with a sad smile.

That seemed to calm Kora down a little but it sparked some suspicions in Daisy’s head. But this was nor time or place to be voicing them.

“It’s okay,” Mack assured them.

“If these are your most trusted agents who can speak on your behalf at the meeting with Princess Daydra, it is my duty now to bring them to our planet safely,” Brodin announced.

“Yes, they have all my trust,” Mack nodded and put his hand encouragingly on Daisy’s shoulder. “Agents, good luck,” Mack added, looking from Daisy to Daniel and Kora who both nodded at him.

“Thank you, Director.” Daisy squeezed his arm in response.

“Thank you, sir,” Daniel said at the same time.

“Let’s go then,” Brodin suggested and held a spherical device, slightly smaller than a soccer ball, in front of him. “Please stand in a circle as close to the device as possible.”

“If I may ask,” Mack spoke up again, “what is that thing?”

“It’s an interstellar and interdimensional teleportation device,” Brodin explained. “It allows us to travel anywhere in the universe or even between the universes. Although I am not sure how much you Terrans know about the Multiverse.”

“It’s the same as multiple timelines, right?” Daisy asked, unsure.

“Yes, but it’s more than just that,” Brodin muttered, looking down at the device he was holding.

“Then, yes…uh, we know something about it,” Daisy looked at Daniel and Kora with an amused grin on her face.

“I am pleasantly surprised. Many races out there have never heard of it,” Adlynn commented, excitement visible in her eyes. “You are much more advanced than we thought.”

“Not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult,” Daniel whispered into Daisy’s ear and she tried hard not to smile.

“Yeah,” Mack sighed, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “you could say we discovered a lot in the past ten years or so.”

“Maybe your friends will share some of those discoveries with us. I would like to hear all about them. They are usually accompanied by interesting stories,” Adlynn couldn’t hide her excitement anymore.

“Sure,” Daisy said, “but you know, these things go both ways. We share if you do too.”

“This will be a very interesting meeting, I can tell,” Adlynn smiled while Brodin shook his head with a sigh.

“That’s why we should be going, Adlynn,” he noted dryly and held the device in the middle of their small circle.

“Of course, Captain,” Adlynn tried to compose herself and warned the trio of humans: “Get ready.”

Daisy grasped both Daniel’s and Kora’s hands in each of hers. The last thing she wanted was to lose one of them in the vacuum of space or whatever. She didn’t know how that device worked.

Suddenly they were all enveloped by the blue light emitting from the device in the middle. Somehow, in some way, it reminded her of Gordon’s powers.

Next Chapter →

I wrote this and the next chapter as one big chapter but decided to split them up...it was too long and I know some people prefer shorter chapters. This is the calm before the storm.

Both planets mentioned here exist in the MCU (Guardians of the Galaxy vol.2) but the Sagittarians were not mentioned so I took them out of the comics (I've never read any of them). Princess Daydra and her uncle exist in the comics the rest is made up.

So that's it then. Thanks for reading. Stay safe and see you all next week!

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