#and shoved right in the middle of procedures to learn

[asvidema]

first day of internship at molecular biology lab done. it was surreal but at least i was welcomed nicely

[writeforfandoms]

Warrior Song 1

Find the series masterlist

This is really just for fun. For fun and to play with new characters. Because Chief hits too many of the right buttons. 

This starts pre-Infinite, but pretty quickly moves into the events of the game.

Eventual John/Master Chief x f!reader

Warnings: Swearing, vague medical terms and exams, non-explicit violence. 

Word count: 2.8k

Thank you to @thirstforhelmets​ for writing a beautiful beautiful fic that inspired me to actually write for this buckethead, and not just daydream. 

The first time you treated the Master Chief, you didn’t even know it was him. You were in the middle of a wave, treated injuries as fast as you could. Your team was already stretched thin, you were barely even paying attention to rank. 

So when you saw the armor, your first conscious thought was to get it off. 

“Where are you injured?” you asked, very nearly demanded, barely glancing into the gold visor of the Spartan. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Uh huh. Heard that one before,” you grumbled, doing a quick visual check. Nothing appeared to have gotten through the armor or the undersuit, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t hiding something like cracked ribs. 

There was a soft huff of what might have been amusement through the helmet’s speakers. “I’m well enough to continue.” 

“Fighting is over for now,” you said, narrowing your eyes at a suspicious stain on the armor. “You’ve got time to let me look you over and make sure you are well enough to continue fighting.” 

He submitted after that, more or less gracefully. Especially as you expertly found releases for his armor to get at the man underneath. 

The man who was not only a bloody beautiful specimen of a human (you fought hard to just swallow and move on), but also had many scars. You could see surgical scars, both from the Spartan program and from other procedures. Poor man. 

And then you refocused on the sprained wrist, the bruised ribs, the strained muscles in his neck and back. Probably from the crazy stunts these Spartans tended to pull. 

“Not too bad,” you murmured, more to yourself than anything. “Alright. Take it easy for a few days, give yourself a chance to heal so these don’t get any worse. Take a nice hot shower.”

“Is that an order?” His voice was low and raspy, with just a hint of amusement. 

“Do I need to make it one?” you shot back without missing a beat. Nevermind that you couldn’t really order him to do anything - as a civilian medic, you held no real rank. 

“I’ll take it under advisement.” He straightened to his full height, making you suddenly realize just how dwarfed you were by this mountain of a man. His shoulders alone were broader than you were, and he stood well above your height. 

You swallowed and nodded. “Please do. Come back if you need anything else.” You quirked a smile at him, stepping aside so he could leave. 

He nodded to you, pausing as he gathered up his helmet and assorted bits of armor. “Thank you.” And then he was gone. 

“Was that the Master Chief?” one of the techs asked you in a nervous whisper, eyes wide.

“What?” You whipped around to look at the tech, startled. “No. No way.”

“Didn’t his armor say 117, though?” 

It had. You had just bossed around the Master Chief. You felt a little faint, actually. 

“Well. That happened.” You took a deep breath and shook yourself. “I’m going to assume it’s fine since he didn’t, y’know, throw me or anything. So. Who’s up next?”

Looking a little awed now, the tech jogged off to find your next victim/patient. You took the extra moments to just breathe. 

And then you shoved the entire encounter aside and got back to work. 

That was far from the first time, or last time, you had a Spartan for a patient. You’d learned pretty quickly that bossing them around in your firmest voice was the best way to get results. They were all awful patients, often ignoring minor injuries and some going so far as to conceal more significant things. Like cracked ribs. 

But you got lots of practice at shouting them down, and even earned yourself a bit of a reputation. If your fellow medics shoved Spartans your way more often, well, you weren’t going to call them out on it. You had no problem with treating the Spartans. 

Although you didn’t see Master Chief again, after that first time. 

As a civilian contractor, you technically had no rank. And you reported to someone in the military, your boss, who was actually in the chain of command. But you got to avoid all the hierarchy bullshit, and you had access to decent food and supplies. 

But there were times you wished you hadn’t joined the crew of the Infinity, even as a contractor. 

Like when the alarms started going off signaling battle stations. But before you could even get to your station, your boss grabbed you. 

“We’re evacing all civilians,” she told you brusquely. “Get to the nearest lifeboat and get off. Now.”

Eyes wide, you obeyed, grabbing the few other civilians you saw along the way and leading the way to the nearest lifeboat. The Infinity rocked alarmingly, and you all slammed into the seats. 

The escape from the Infinity was quite possibly one of the worst moments of your life - stuck in the lifeboat with no windows, no way to check on anything. The force pulling on you was much more than you were used to, and the turbulence before landing was… rather terrifying. 

Then again, so was emerging onto the Halo with no support, no cover, no people besides those who’d dropped with you. 

“We need to find cover,” you told your group, looking around nervously. Your hands were shaking, just a little. “Come on, this way.”

Fortunately, nobody argued with you, and you all found a stand of trees to hide in amongst. Supplies were low between you all, though the drop pod did have some. 

You all stayed huddled together, quiet and scared, until short-range comms brought news of other survivors. 

The first few days were… bad. You were lucky you ended up with two med techs and some supplies. Your services became urgent as soon as you came across the first group. Small pockets of humans were gathering, marines and the occasional Spartan acting as guards to try to keep the Banished away from you all. You treated everyone you came across - some had concussions from a rough landing, some had injuries from fighting or from the escape. 

But all of them told you about the fall of Infinity. It was all you could do to keep working and not cry. 

But slowly, things got more stable. More supplies were hauled down from the wreckage. Perimeters were set up. 

And as impossible as it was to believe… Life found a way. People settled in. Order returned. 

Short-range communications were all anyone was able to manage, at first. Slowly, people gathered together, leadership got everyone behaving, and… that was that. New semblance of normal. 

Of course, your new normal also meant you were busy. You had patients every day - some for long-term care, some for new injuries, some for things like food poisoning or minor illnesses. 

Before you knew it, a month had passed. You were exhausted. Supplies were limited, but at least you still had coffee. That was about your one comfort, anymore. 

“How are things looking here?” 

You stood up straight almost reflexively when Lieutenant Beck came in. So far, he’d been the ranking officer. Or one of them, at least. You weren’t keeping the most accurate tabs on the military stuff, you had about a thousand other concerns. 

“Well, we’re still running,” you told him mildly, swiping up your tablet. It wasn’t yours, not originally, but it had been found intact and its original owner was dead, so. Yours now. “Starting to run low on things, though.” 

“Like?”

“Painkillers, for one.” You tapped the side of your tablet with one finger, gaze fixed on the latest inventory. “Although I do have an idea that might help. With some of it, at least.” 

“Let’s hear it.” Beck motioned with one hand. 

“I’d like to investigate the local flora, beyond base. I’ve seen some plants that have medicinal properties. Old school, I know. But it works.” Your smile was half-grimace, really, but that was about the best you could do under the circumstances. 

He nodded slowly, considering. “I’ll find some soldiers to go with you. Just in case.”

One look at his face showed that you wouldn’t get anywhere without the soldiers, so you agreed. And, really, it wasn’t the worst safety precaution. There were still Banished out there. 

So normal shifted once again, this time to include taking the two techs and a handful of marines out in search of medicinal plants. The marines were skeptical at first, visibly and sometimes audibly so. The techs at least were familiar with the idea, if not the practice.

They all stopped complaining in a hurry when you were able to hand out painkiller tea and help stop bleeding with some ground up bark and (when asked discretely) provide some aids for the women of the group. 

After that, you actually had volunteers to go with you. 

Supplies were still low, but you stretched what you had. Communications came back online, to some degree, and more pockets of survivors were found and brought in. You ended up shouting down more Spartans. 

You actively avoided thinking about the reputation building up around you, because you were just a civilian, very far from home, regretting most of your life choices. And if you thought about anything for longer than twenty seconds you were liable to cry, scream, go absolutely apeshit, or any combination thereof. 

More time passed. Skirmishes happened. People came back wounded. Dying. Dead. This was far, far more than you had ever signed on for. But you kept going, because what else was there to do?

It wasn’t until one of your techs mentioned something that you realized with a start that it had been six months since the fall of the Infinity. 

Six months. Hundreds, or possibly thousands, still dead or MIA. You were somehow the head of what was left of Medical. 

You barely slept that night. 

And then, only days later, there was strange chatter on the comms. The Banished were all up in an uproar, and a scouting party reported explosions and destruction. But it wasn’t anyone from your base, or the other two bases you had contact with. (All of which you learned while you patched up one of the scouting party.) 

But you really didn’t think too much about it, or who was behind it. Until the Pelican landed, everyone on base running out to see who it was. You emerged more slowly, hanging back, your curiosity at war with your constant exhaustion. 

You only had to see that distinctive green armor and gold visor to know. To know that somehow, he’d done the impossible. 

And to know that you were going to insist on him coming in for a checkup. 

You cleared the techs out of your makeshift medbay and got things ready for an exam, setting water to boil. Just in case. 

If nothing else, you felt like your nerves could do with a cup of tea. 

You didn’t end up seeing the Chief for hours, but he did come. You were fairly certain you saw the meddling fingers of one of your techs, but you weren’t going to complain, not when this is what you had wanted. 

“Take off your armor, please,” you said politely, meeting the visor for only a moment before you looked back at your tablet. 

“I’m fine.”

Oh, that brought back memories, your chest squeezing painfully. “I’m sure, but I’d like to double check. The armor, please.” 

He crossed his arms over his chest, looming over you, really leaning into that intimidation factor. “I don’t need a checkup.”

Something about his tone, something almost derisive, broke your calm. So that’s how he wanted to play it? Fine. You could play that way.

“Sit your ass down,” you growled at the Spartan, uncaring of his strength or his rank or any of that. Right now, he was your patient, and he was being a stubborn shit. So you’d shout him down if you had to.

For a long, tense moment, there was silence between you two. Then he sat, setting his helmet down on your work table, eyes narrowed just a little at you. 

“I know you’re used to going without end,” you said, a little calmer now that he was actually listening to you. “I know. I get it. But this?” You snorted without humor, shaking your head. “Nobody’s going anywhere for half an hour. As much as you think otherwise, you need to take that time to rest and eat and recover, just a little. Then you can go back to shooting things.”

His lips twitched in what might have been a smile. “Affirmative.”

You nodded and then pointed a threatening finger at him. “Stay put. I will be right back.”

And before you could overthink this, you turned and marched away. Food and water, that’s what he needed next. So you gathered up two water pouches and a snack, at least, and brought it all back to him.

Rather to your surprise, he hadn’t moved. He was still seated, back ramrod straight, gaze fixed on you. You huffed but brought over the water and snack. 

“I don’t care if you’ve already had a meal,” you said before he could protest. “Your metabolism runs faster. Honestly I’m amazed you haven’t dropped weight.” 

He was silent as he took the snack, eyes sweeping over you less than subtly. But he relented, opening one of the waters to drink, so you took a seat and relaxed back into it. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, picking up your tablet again. “For not making me entirely shout you down.” 

He didn’t smile, not exactly, but the line of his shoulders eased a little, and his chin dipped. “Is that something you have to do often?”

“I’m surrounded by hard-headed marines and even harder-headed Spartans,” you drawled. “Of course it is.” 

He looked you over again, more slowly this time. You knew he saw the bags under your eyes, the stress lines around your mouth, the exhausted slump of your shoulders. But there wasn’t much to be done about that now. “No rank?”

You blinked a few times, unused to the question now. Then you huffed a small laugh. “No. I’m a civilian contractor. Navy couldn’t train medics fast enough, they lured me in and promised me I’d never see combat.” You waved expansively at the camp outside these walls to show just how well that had gone. 

He nodded slowly. “Your work is appreciated.” 

“Thank you.” Your smile was tired, but it was the best you could do. “Now. Are you actually going to take off the rest of your armor and let me have a look at you, or do I have to shout?” 

He drained the last of the water and stood silently, beginning to remove his armor. Which was a relief - you didn’t think you could shout him down, not if he truly dug his heels in. So you were grateful for the cooperation, setting aside your tablet to look him over.

(You may have briefly gotten distracted when he rolled the top half of his flight suit down, once again caught by the width of those shoulders and that chest and all of it.) 

“In case no one’s given you the tour yet, there are bathing facilities here,” you told him, frowning at some bruising and carefully checking around the area, though you made sure your touch was gentle. “Mess hall is always open. Last I heard there was an area for armor maintenance, at least some basic stuff. Anything else you’ll have to ask one of the actual gun-toting people about, I haven’t paid attention.” 

“You don’t have a weapon?” His voice rumbled through his chest and oh dear. That was distracting. You ducked your head to get a better look at a healing wound (although it showed no signs of infection and the bruising was already in the green stages of healing). 

“No.” 

He made a dissatisfied noise but didn’t push, for which you were grateful. In fact, he didn’t move until you stepped back, complete with your exam. 

“You do indeed seem to be in good health. I’d like it if you ate more and got plenty of sleep, but, knowing your type, that will be disregarded as soon as something comes up.” You grimaced a little, well used to your advice being ignored by now. “Try not to get hurt, and if you do, come see me as soon as you can.” 

He nodded, already suiting back up. But he paused with his helmet in his hands, staring at you with those disconcertingly intense eyes. “Take care.” And then he put on the helmet and was gone, leaving you blinking after him.

[m-jelly]

Could I request a angsty fluffy Levi x winged!reader scenario where Levi first discovers reader caged, locked up and malnourished and experimented on.

Reader doesn't trust anyone and is petrified of medical treatment and people due to her past. Due to Levi saving the reader from her situation and him coming from the underground he becomes the only person the reader trusts. He helps her throughout medical procedures, helps her become more nourished, teaches her things like reading/writing and how to speak a bit better (having never learned) and eventually teaches her how to use her wings and fly.

Wings for freedom

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Genre and tags: Futuristic AU, fluff, emotional hurt, emotional healing, physical healing, protective Levi, sweet Levi, romance, falling in love, happy ending.

Concept: Levi and his team raid an abandoned titan stronghold on a planet to find a big cage there and inside, a beautiful woman with wings. Levi rescues you and looks after you. You stay with him and only him. You refuse to let anyone near you, only Levi. Levi stays with you when Hange treats you medically. He also teaches you more writing skills, encourages you to speak and helps you fly. As time goes by, you both develop a bond of love.

Levi felt his stomach twist and turn as he walked down a dark hall where mother nature was starting to take over. He had no clue what the titans had been doing here, but it had to have been important for them to have security on the planet even after leaving.

He stopped by sliding doors, but a wire was wrong meaning it refused to open. He pried the doors open and shoved them wide. He huffed a little and cast his gaze to the large room. His eyes widened at seeing a large cage in the middle and the sound of running water.

He slowly approached the cage as he held his hand out to his team. He moved closer and peaked inside to see movement. He frowned a little when he saw something crawling closer to him. The form retreated as if scared. He turned to his team and held his hand out at them.

Levi gritted his teeth. "Guns down damn it!" He turned back to the form inside. "It's okay. I won't let them hurt you."

He watched it move closer and gasped. The dim light in the room illuminated you dressed in dirty white trousers and a dirty shirt to match. He gasped when he saw big wings coming from your back. He could tell you were starving and sick.

He crouched down and held the bars. "You're beautiful."

You shifted right up to Levi and gazed at him. You slowly touched Levi's hand and smiled when you realised he was real. "Real."

He nodded. "I'm real. My name is Levi. What's your name?"

You said your name softly. "Help, Levi."

"I'll help you." He got up and ran to the cell door. He pulled a tool off his belt and burned the lock off. He pushed the door open and walked inside. "I'm here to help."

You gripped a collar on your neck. "Help."

He knelt in front of you and carefully burn the metal collar off. "There, you're free."

You touched your neck and welled up as emotions rushed through you. You looked up at Levi. "Thank you." You dove at him and hugged him. "Thank you."

He held you close and ignored the dirt on your clothes. "Let's leave. Can you walk?"

You nodded. "Yes."

He pulled you to your feet and let you hold his arm. He slowly walked out with you. You hid behind him as people whispered and stared. Levi protect you from others and took you to a waiting ship. He helped you onboard and down the lift to the medical bay where Hange was working.

Levi led you inside. "Hange? I need your help."

Hange looked over at you and Levi, they gasped at seeing you. "Look at her!"

You hid behind Levi's back. "Levi."

He turned around to face you. "It's okay. Hange is crazy but nice."

You whined a little. "Levi."

"You'll be okay."

You saw Hange get a medical bag making memories of the titans experimenting on you flash through your head. "NO!" You launched yourself away and backed up into the corner. "N-No. Help Levi, help."

Levi walked over to you. "It's okay. Hange wants to help you, okay? They won't hurt you, I swear. I'll stay with you the whole time."

You shook a little, then pressed yourself against Levi's chest. "Okay."

He guided you over to the medical bed. "You need to change, I'll turn my back as you do."

You nodded. "Okay."

Hange helped you take your clothes off and gasped at seeing all the scars on your body from medical experiments. "Oh, you poor thing."

Levi looked over at you in your underwear to see the scars. "Tch, those titan bastards."

Hange helped you into a medical gown, then guided you onto the bed. "I'll talk you through everything I'm doing, okay? If you want me to stop, you say stop."

You nodded. "Okay."

Levi held your hand. "You're so brave."

You squeezed Levi's hand and hummed as Hange talked you through what they were doing. You relaxed a little because what Hange was doing to you barely hurt compared to what the titans did. You felt a lot better after you were given the right medication. You relaxed onto the bed and held Levi's hand as you fell asleep.

Levi grabbed cleaning things and started cleaning you and your wings for you. "How bad was she?"

Hange let out a long sigh as they sat. "Really bad. They experimented on her so much, too much really. A lot of the procedures were inhumane. I'm glad you found her."

"Me too." He gulped. "What of her people?"

Hange sighed. "Wiped out by the titans. She is the last of her kind. There might be others out there, but it's unknown." They gazed at you. "She's all alone."

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

You sat on Levi's desk and watched him work. You were glued to his side and whenever he had to leave the ship for a mission, you got upset. You wanted to always be around him. You got medical treatment because of him, you ate food, you were speaking more and learning how to write as well. Levi was your saving grace, so you always wanted to be next to him.

Levi loved the company, but you were getting him all flustered. You were staying so close to him and you were so sweet that his heart was starting to race. He'd felt his heart race from battles, but never from a person before. You were making him giddy.

His cheeks burned as you sat on the desk watching him. He stopped working and looked up at you. "What are you doing?"

You smiled at him. "Watching you."

He blushed. "Well, could you maybe watch something else?"

You tilted your head. "Why?"

"Because you make me nervous."

You frowned a little. "I do? I'm sorry." You climbed off the desk. "I'll practice my writing."

Levi let out a long sigh. "Don't be sorry. I just...you make me nervous. It's the good kind."

You blushed when you realised what he meant. "Oh, I see. I make you happy." You smiled a little. "I'm glad. I don't want to annoy you."

"You don't."

You smiled at Levi. "You're really handsome."

"Th-thank you."

You nibbled your lip and played with the bedsheet on Levi's bed. "Do you see me as something that needs protecting? Do you see me as a woman?"

He gulped hard. "I see you as a beautiful woman."

You giggled a little. "Good."

He let out a long sigh, then stood up and offered his hand. "Come with me."

You grabbed his hand and let him drag you along and into the lift, you kept going and went to a side room with a massive window. You gasped as you stared at space and the planet you were going past. You marvelled at the blues and greens below. "Beautiful."

Levi smiled a little. "The joys of space travel right there."

You placed your hands on the glass. "I want to visit so many."

"I'll take you to different ones." He smiled a little as he enjoyed the pure joy on your face. "We'll go to one and we'll practice how to fly."

You grinned at him. "I'd love that!" You jumped into Levi's arms. "Thank you."

Levi hugged you tightly. "I just want to make you happy. You deserve to be happy."

You pulled back a bit and kissed Levi. You hummed in happiness when Levi kissed you back. You both felt like you were melting as your warmth mixed together. You loved Levi more than he knew. Levi was your life and you pushed those feelings into the kiss.

Levi's lips were so warm and soft against yours. You adored how loving he was in his kiss back. You blushed when his tongue lightly licked your bottom lip. You opened your mouth for him and mewled when his tongue pushed into your mouth. You clung to Levi as his tongue moved with you.

Levi lay you against the floor as his heart raced. He felt emotions rush through him as his tongue moved with yours. He didn't want to stop touching or kissing you. He wanted to be like this with your for the rest of his life.

You felt Levi's hand go under and up your shirt. You grabbed his hand and pulled from the kiss. "Levi. I'm not ready for that."

He blushed. "Sorry. I just...sorry."

You blushed. "I want to, but I'm just...I'm not confident with my body yet after what those bad people did to me." You welled up a little. "I know you say I'm beautiful and perfect just the way I am, but I just need to build confidence in my own body."

Levi smiled as he played with your hair. "Of course. I love you and I want to take care of you."

You smiled as your blush spread over your cheeks. "I love you too."

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

You whined a little as you stood in a field with Levi. You pulled at your shirt a bit, then shook your head. "I can't do it."

He walked up to you and cupped your face. "You can. You're stronger than you think."

You let out a long sigh. "You did so much research for me, so I will do it."

He smiled. "Good. Now, spread your wings wide."

You spread your wings. "Okay."

"Just flap them and let them take you." He showed you a line. "I have a hold of you so I can pull you down."

You let out a long sigh. "Okay, okay." You flapped your large wings. You shot up and squealed when you went really high. "LEVI!"

Levi pulled you down by the line. "I've got you."

You landed in Levi's arms and blushed. "Th-Thank you."

He put you on your feet and kissed you. "Well done. Keep trying, okay?"

You nodded and tried over and over again until you were confident. You flew down and grabbed Levi and flew up with him. You giggled as Levi clung tightly to you. You spun around in the air and looked down at him in your arms. "Isn't this fun?"

Levi gasped as he flew with you. "This is beautiful." He looked at you and smiled. "You're beautiful."

You blushed a little. "Thank you."

"No, thank you."

You giggled and flew around with him. You felt tired after a while due to not being used to flying. You landed back in your old spot and safely put your boyfriend down. You softly landed next to him and smiled. "I can't believe it."

He smiled a little. "You looked perfect up there. Thank you for taking me with you."

You blushed. "Well, I wanted you to enjoy the moment with me. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you."

Levi cupped your face and kissed you. "I'm glad I did. You allowed me to experience things I've never felt before. I'm happier and I feel love."

You hugged Levi tightly and wrapped your wings around you and him. "If you ever want to fly, just let me know and I'll take us both."

He squeezed you. "Thank you." He rubbed your cheek as he smiled. "I really do love you."

You blushed and leaned into his touch. "I love you more."

"Tch, brat."

[bffsoobin]

amortentia

↳year six potions class was never particularly exciting to you- as a Slytherin with much more interest in Transfiguration- but alas, it’s required to graduate. You thought the class couldn’t be any more of an inconvenience, but upon being paired with infamous Gryffindor Beomgyu, you find yourself proven wrong.

➤ gryffindor!beomgyu xslytherin!reader, harry potter!au, enemies to lovers, a little slow burn, fluff

Word Count: ~11k

Requested?: kinda? anon requested a Beomgyu oneshot with no specifics and I spit this out of some depraved, Harry Potter obsessed corner of my mind.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, usual e2l arguments, swearing, usual Gryffindor-Slytherin insults and tension 

A/N: I hope the anon who asked for a Beomgyu oneshot is happy with this!! I finally felt like I had enough time to write a proper hogwarts au so here it is! Also I purposely avoided using any professor names that are clearly linked with the actual Harry Potter series purely because of timeline continuity! Bonus points if you can guess who Georgiana is related to before I point it out :) ALSO this is so long and I feel so rusty so I hope it’s okay lmao

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

The sound of your quill scratching against parchment filled your quiet corner of the common room, allowing you a feeling of solidarity and peace you’d been craving since you arrived back to the castle a few days ago. Of course you’d been excited to be back, sharing the meal in the Great Hall with all of your friends happily as you watched the wide-eyed first years get sorted into their houses. It was hard to believe that 6 years ago that had been you waiting to find your place within the walls of Hogwarts. 

As always, the buzz of the beginning of a new year wore on your nerves. Despite your love for your friends, their energy was- in your opinion- completely draining. You much preferred the moments of quiet serenity that the stone laden dungeon common room afforded you. The last few embers of a fire lit hours before winked at you from across the room, tempting you to raise your wand and reignite them. After a moment you decided against the movement, as you were presumably the only one awake at this hour and the light of the cedar scented candle you’d brought down with you from your suitcase provided enough light for you anyway. 

The scratch of your quill stilled as you flipped to the next page, careful not to accidentally bend the corners of the book you’d just purchased. Several detailed diagrams detailed the process of transfiguring plants to inanimate objects to animals then back to plants and you felt your heart swell with excitement. Transfiguration was hands down your favorite subject, and you’d been craving to learn this process in particular since it had been mentioned offhandedly in class last year. You scrambled to pick up your quill, happy that you’d splurged for the instantly refilling model as ink flowed flawlessly against the parchment. 

A sudden crash from the entrance of the common room popped your comfortable bubble of silence harshly as you clambered for your wand. 

“Who’s there?” You yelled, annoyance and surprise mixing to raise your voice considerably. For a moment you heard nothing as you advanced closer to the door, keeping the three wide stone steps between you and who- or what- ever was behind the door. The door shook a few times before finally flying open, revealing three very normal looking boys stumbling through the threshold. They were all hanging on one another, stumbling over their feet as they pushed into the common room. You recognized the one in the middle instantly as Choi Yeonjun, fellow Slytherin and current Head Boy of the house. He was a year older than you but you knew him well for his infectious laughter and notoriously good grades despite never studying. His cheeks were flushed and his feet unsteady, but he held a charming grin through it all. The identity of whoever was supporting him on the left was a mystery to you, but the boy supporting him from the right sent alarm bells off in your head. 

“Beomgyu?” Your voice left you before you could rein yourself in, and you would have cringed had it not been for the hatred brewing under your skin. Here he was, the one person you tried to forget existed every single summer. And he had been part of the ruckus that pulled you from your reading. He didn’t say anything as the three boys stumbled past you, dumping Yeonjun onto one of the soft black leather sofas. 

“Hello?” You felt like you were in some kind of time warp, somehow totally invisible to the three of them as they sorted themselves out; Beomgyu and the other boy straightening out their clothing and Yeonjun lolling his head back on the cushions with a content sigh. 

“Oh, hey Y/N.” Beomgyu finally drawled, sticking his hands in the front pockets of his trousers. He was still wearing his robes, layered over a sensible gray wool sweater and black uniform slacks. His striped red and gold tie hung off of his neck slightly, obviously having been loosened at some point in the night. He donned the same Head Boy pin Yeonjun did, but in the same colorway as his robes and tie. Loud, obnoxious, attention seeking red and gold.

“Hey? How about instead of “hey” you tell me why the hell you’re barging into my common room at some ungodly hour of the night! Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Head Boy?” The unidentified boy behind him froze as his eyes widened, apparently feeling the sting of your icy words much more than Beomgyu. He just lifted a lazy eyebrow, guiding his annoyingly confident gaze over your body. Fucking Gryffindors and their confidence. It was suffocating. 

“Well you see, Y/N. Yeonjun here can’t handle his fire whiskey for shit, and we were all just having a little start of the year party in the Room of Requirement. So me and my friend here,” he motioned vaguely to the cowering boy behind him- who you now noticed looked like he had just entered his fourth year- “decided to be so kind as to bring him back.” 

You said nothing for a moment; simply simmering in your hatred for him until he spoke again. 

“By the way, what are you even doing up so late? You’re not a prefect...so shouldn’t you be up in bed like the rest of your little friends? What’s so secretive that you have to be up in the middle of the night for it? Are you doing something...evil?” He leaned forward, closing the gap between the two of you and bringing his mouth level with your ear. You cringed at the closeness, clenching your hands into fists until the crescents of your nails indented your skin. His voice had lowered like he was telling a secret, as if Gryffindors even had the capacity for maintaining privacy. “Are you being naughty?” 

You huffed indignantly, finally finding the strength to shove his shoulder away harshly. The skin of your cheeks was certainly flamed, but you hoped he would chalk it up to annoyance and not the intoxicating scent of his woody cologne.  

“If you must know, I was up studying Transfiguration. I was trying to enjoy some piece and quiet until you came busting in.”

Beomgyu stepped around you and made his way for the table you’d previously been sitting at. To your delight he refrained from touching anything, but he stared at the set up for so excruciatingly long that the mystery boy awkwardly slipped out of the dungeon without a word. 

“We start classes in about 5 hours,” he suddenly remarked. His voice made you jump a bit, since you’d become used to the regained quiet. “Why the hell are you already studying? And a subject we’ve all already taken? Any other Transfiguration courses would just be electives, and with how much you care for your class standing I would have assumed you’d be learning ahead on Potions.”

“Well first of all, I’m not exactly studying. I’m just reading. I bought the book myself because I-” you stopped and heaved a sigh at the scrunch of his eyebrows. He clearly wasn’t understanding the concept of reading just for the fun of it. “I’m not studying for Potions because I despite it. Plus, how much is there to study? The book literally spells out every ingredient and procedure. There’s no thinking to be done, and hardly any magic.” Beomgyu’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline comically. 

“Hardly any magic? My god, maybe I was right to peg you as the pessimistic type. Must be hard to feel anything akin to hope down here in your-” he glanced around your common room again, eyes catching on the darkened green and black decorations, the window offering a view of the sparkling Black Lake shrouded with pine trees. “In your dungeon.” 

His use of the word bothered you greatly. Even though you knew it was geographically true and had even used it yourself; something about him coming in unannounced and uninvited to insult your home inspired fresh anger in your stomach. 

“Get out,” you spat, ignoring the way a half-dozed Yeonjun jumped at your voice. With all your might you pushed at Beomgyu’s broad shoulders, willing him out of your sight for at least a few more hours. 

“Oof, must have hit a nerve there, huh?” He continued to speak casually as you pushed him, walking backwards up the steps with an annoyingly perfect accuracy. Once he was finally stood in the threshold of the heavy door you heaved a sigh of relief as you swing it closed.

“Bye bye! Don’t ever fucking come back!”

——

You only managed about two hours of sleep after the Beomgyu drama, but luckily for you the three other sixth year girls you were rooming with had been smart enough to buy and stash away some caffeine potions. They had none of the enjoyable taste of coffee but three times the effect, and soon you felt back in top shape to head to class.

Pushing through the masses of clambering students with a practice eased, you caught up to the familiar frame of Georgiana, one of your oldest friends. She was a Ravenclaw, but you’d ridden together on your very first trip on the Hogwarts Express and stayed close friends since then. She greeted you easily, giving you an award winning smile as she pulled you by the arm of the robes to sit on one of the surprisingly empty stone benches lining the halls.

“Let me see your schedule!” She had to yell just to be heard over the mumbling of the crowd, but you heard her well enough to produce a folded piece of parchment that you carried despite having memorized it. Georgiana’s eyes flitted over it carefully, comparing it to her own schedule which laid open on her lap.

“We’ve got...Herbology 3,” she ran her finger down the parchments a few more inches, “Transfiguration of Aquatics...and NEWT prep together!” You groaned loudly, a feeling of anxiety weighing down your bones as you rubbed your fingertips into your temples.

“What’s up with you? Over me already?” She giggled, leaning back against the wall and handing you back your schedule.

“No, it’s just...if you’re the second class for Herb 3, Aquatics and NEWT prep, that means I have to pray that the second house in Potions isn’t Gryffindor.” You leaned back against the cool wall next to her, pouting in self pity until you saw the grim look on her face.

“What?” You sat up straight again as if a fire had been lit under your ass. Georgiana looked as if she was holding in a laugh and a grimace at the same time while you begged her to give up whatever information she was holding back from you. Her hand hovered over her mouth in an attempt to hide the wavering smirk running across her lips. 

“Okay, don’t freak out.” She began, placing a hand on your knee. 

“Well now I’m definitely going to since you lead with don’t freak out! Should I freak out? What about?”

“I already compared schedules with Soobin,” she said gently.

“Okay, and?” You knew of the sweet Hufflepuff, had sat next to him in a few classes and seen him hanging out with Yeonjun on occasion, but still had no idea why she was bringing him up now.

“And him and I have Potions together.” In the split second it took for the words to process you saw her flinch, clutching at the fabric of her robes over her chest in anticipation for your angry outburst.

“Of course! Of course I have to get stuck with them for Potions class, out of all the other houses. Merlin really has it out for lately you know, I didn’t sleep very much last night, had to pay Melinda 10 galleons for one of her caffeine potions-“

“I can tell,” Georgiana supplied. You grimaced at her and immediately shut your mouth, sensing your rapid talking was quickly becoming over the top.

“Georgie, if I have Potions with him-“ you didn’t even have to specify who you were speaking of before she was rolling her green eyes into her head.

“If you have Potions with Beomgyu, you just need to ignore him. He loves to push your buttons, Y/N. When will you realize that? And you push his back and you both get a good cat-and-mouse feeling that every teenager wants. Maybe if you stop entertaining it, he’ll take it easy on you. Need I remind you of the time you were actually friends with him? Didn’t swear he was the spawn of Satan after every conversation? I even remember in second year when you had a crush on him and made me-“

“Okay!” You replied curtly, gathering your books and parchment back into your arms. “I’m going now! Class starts in,” you pulled back your robe sleeve to look at a watch that clearly was not there, “10 minutes, and I like to be early!” Easily, you slipped into the throngs of students, leaving Georgiana behind with a sly grin on her face.

——

You arrived to the Potions room before any other student, forcing you to idle awkwardly in the small space between the door and the first brewing station. A few of the cauldrons bubbled idly, breaking up the silence of the room with the low hum of white noise. The arched ceilings only amplified the absence of noise- even the never ending buzz of students passing through the hallways was somehow muffled to silence inside the walls. 

“Ah!” The professor bellowed, waving at you from the opposite end of the room where he had been straightening out some piles of parchment that you could only assume were homework papers. “Hello there, you must be quite eager to start the day!” You could feel the skin of the back of your neck heating up as the rotund man approached you gleefully. 

“Oh, um, yes sir. You could say that...” you mumbled, clutching your stack of books to your chest protectively. The man smiled at you kindly but you could still feel the heavy weight of awkwardness seeping into your bones. He opened his mouth again- making another attempt at small talk to which you cringed. As much as you respected the professor on the basis of his knowledge, your ability for any small talk, especially Potions related, was extremely lacking. 

“You must’ve done quite well on your OWLS to be here, yes? Only those with the highest scores can be registered. The class can be quite challenging, but if you’ve got your affairs in order I reckon you’ll fine.” He paused, likely sensing the blankness behind your stare as you nodded politely. “Ah, all things you already know I’m sure. Are you excited to get started with the class?” 

You frowned, holding back your natural instinct for brutal honesty. How on earth could you let this gentle old man down gently? 

“Of course she’s excited! Aren’t we all?” Beomgyu was in the room now, apparently, approaching you from behind and slinging an arm around your shoulders. The loose fabric of his sleeve collided with the side of your face, blinding you for a second. You stumbled on your feet from the jostle, trying to shrug away from the warmth and overwhelming scent of his cologne. Beomgyu never was aware of his own strength as he held you steadily against his side as if he was trying to fuse your bodies together.

“Oh my! So nice to see such great friends between different houses! Back in my day, as I’m sure you know, there was so much hatred between Gryffindors and Slytherins...never would have seen a pair of friends like the two of you!” The professor seemed genuinely delighted, oblivious to the way you tried to wiggle out of Beomgyu’s hold. You offered the professor a plastic smile as more students filed in. As soon as the portly man was otherwise occupied, you stomped the heel of your sneaker into Beomgyu’s foot with all the might you could gather. 

“Merlin, ouch!” He recoiled immediately, withdrawing his arm from around your frame to clutch at the foot you’d hopefully bruised. “I’ve got Quidditch practice after lunch today! How dare you!” 

“Guess it’s a good thing you don’t need your feet for Quidditch, Choi. Serves you right for violating my personal space. Next time it’ll be worse than your fucking toes.” You hissed the words lowly, just enough that he would be able to hear them but without alerting your nearby classmates. 

“You two, there!” The professor suddenly exclaimed, making you jump out of your stupor to see he was pointed an aged finger at you and Beomgyu. “Since you were first in and seem to get along, I’ll have you be partners on Station 1.” A few confused whispers passed through the classmates behind you and your face fell at the implication. Potions partners with Beomgyu? For the whole year?

He seemed similarly stalled, not moving a single inch away from the front of the room until the professor cleared his throat pointedly. 

“Right, sir, of course,” Beomgyu nodded, rushing over to the furthest of the high-top tables; unsuccessfully trying to hide the pain of his newfound limp. With a satisfied feeling in your chest you followed closely behind, finally unloading the weight of the books in your arms onto the table. 

——

“How much worse could it get?” You groaned, laying your head in your arms at the dining table. 

“Well, you could be sick, or failing a class, or not have any friends, or have lost your books. Hell, let’s not forget what it must have been like to go to school here at the same time as Harry Potter. I mean, no final exams for a few years, but at what cost? Grandpa Ron always tells me about-” 

“Oh, good Merlin, Georgie, that’s not what I meant.” You picked your head up from the table and scanned the bustling hall. A large plate of sandwiches laid in front of you but your appetite was diminished in the presence of your stress. “I mean, how fucked is it that I have to spend every first period for the rest of the year brewing Potions alongside Choi? It’s bad enough that I hate Potions already, and now I’ll have to deal with his stupid, righteous, Slytherin-slandering ass!” You slammed your hand into the wooden table, shaking the plates and glasses near you under the force. 

“Careful there,” Georgiana scolded around a mouthful of bread. “Just keep your head down, don’t react to him like you always do,” she paused to gulp down a sip of pumpkin juice, “he’ll give up eventually.” You heaved a heavy sigh, propping your chin onto the palm of your hand and scanning the Great Hall. Masses of students bustled around, sharing meals and laughing or gathering over homework problems. You weren’t quite sure who or what you were looking for, but all you found was a rowdy group of forth year boys sitting atop one of the tables, casting small hexes at one another and their lunches. You rolled your eyes at their antics before resigning to picking at the few fries on your plate. 

“And if he doesn’t?” You mumbled, casting a pointed glare at a seemingly distracted Georgiana. It took her a second to shift her gaze back to your face, clearing her throat as she narrowed her eyes towards you. 

“Sorry?” She asked, pulling a section of crust off of the third sandwich she’d picked up off of the platter. 

“If he doesn’t give up? What am I supposed to do then?” The thought of living out the next two school years with Choi Beomgyu as a constant annoyance settled a pit of rage in your stomach. Georgiana was quiet for a moment, flicking a few locks of curled, fiery hair over her shoulder. 

“Then you get back at him.” She shrugged. “You know you get a discount at the joke shop. Just go down there and pick up some puking pastilles or something.” She looked up again suddenly, eyes shimmering and focused intently on something behind you. Out of curiosity you turned on the spot, wondering if there was something of interest outside of the window, only to be met with the sight of Soobin standing mere feet away, hand stalled mid-wave. It didn’t take a genius to notice that the Hufflepuff was staring intently at your best friend, and she was happily returning the sentiment with a goofy grin on her face. You whipped back around to face her, leaning across the table as if the action would provide any secrecy with him so close. 

“Are you and Soobin...” you wiggled your eyebrows at her and she swatted at your shoulder. Her cheeks blushed rosy as she whispered back, “He asked me if I’d want to hang out when we go to Hogsmeade this weekend.” Her voice shook as she spoke but you frowned instantly. Of course you were happy that he had finally manned up and the two of them were on the way to something akin to a date, but...

“First weekend Hogsmeade is our tradition!” You shouted, abandoning any secrecy you might have thought you’d maintained from Soobin. 

“Y/N, please!” Georgiana hissed, glancing up at Soobin with an apologetic smile. “Just once. You can still come along, maybe you can bring someone too?” She offered, trying to placate your irritation. Her eyes continued sliding between you and Soobin as she waited for your response. You sank back onto the bench quietly, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Fine.” You sighed. “I guess I can try to think of someone.” Georgiana’s face lit up as she stood from her seat and gathered her books back under her arm. She rounded the end of the table quickly, meeting up with Soobin just behind you. “Don’t think I’m not still irritated, Weasley!” You yelled after her even though she had turned her back to you. She stalled in her lockstep next to Soobin just long enough to turn her head and throw you a middle finger. 

——

The day of your Hogsmeade visit came quicker than you anticipated, and of course you’d failed to find someone to fill the empty spot that would prevent you from third wheeling. Everyone you asked had either been otherwise busy, sick, or already going into Hogsmeade with other friends.

Georgiana, being the wonderful friend she was, made sure that you hadn’t felt left out on the walk into the village. Soobin was surprisingly good at keeping conversation despite his shy appearance, and the three of you had managed to share lunch and a few Butterbeers at The Three Broomsticks before Georgiana began giving you pointed glances. It took you an embarrassingly long time to recognize what her hand signals and mouthed words were conveying, but once you did you had excused yourself to wander the shops alone in a bid to give the lovebirds some privacy.

The weather was surprisingly pleasant, and as such the streets were lined with witches and wizards of all ages. Large throngs of students and families passed you by, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit like a fish swimming upstream as everyone pushed by. When you’d first stepped out you felt odd walking the cobbled street alone, considering you’d never made a solo trip to Hogsmeade for as long as you’d lived. Something about it was quite relaxing, though, as you realized you could enter any store and stay for any amount of time. 

Once you’d wrestled your way through another group of oncoming students, you spotted an endearing baby blue storefront with deserts on display in the window. Many of them appeared to be muggle creations, and your mouth watered as you caught sight of a tray of fudgy brownies with a thick layer of chocolate icing. Your eyes had always been bigger than your stomach; so despite the fact that you’d just had lunch you find yourself stepping into the sweet smelling shop. An expansion charm helped stretch the store far beyond its dainty storefront, and you were met with the sight of even more display cases and tiered plates full of sweets. 

A few other wizards mulled around the store, debating which treats to pick up and pack into the little green pastry boxes which were stacked at the entrance in a never ending supply. You balanced one of your own between your hands as you gathered up treats, sure to grab three of the very brownies that had brought you in to begin with. You packed in a few cookies that you found on a shelf near the back of the store and began to weigh your options between purchasing what appeared to be a type of muggle cake with specs of color floating about the white batter or a more familiar looking pumpkin pastry dusted with powdered sugar. You contemplated the two deserts for an amount of time that would have been embarrassing if you were in the presence of company.

“Wrackspurts on the brain?” A rush of hot breath inches away from the shell of your ear had you reeling, clutching your box of precious deserts to your chest. Of course you’d immediately identified the voice; you were just hoping that you were wrong as you shot daggers into the boy who’d spooked you. Beomgyu looked beyond pleased with himself: a hand cocked on his hip, fake glasses perched at the very end of his nose to perfectly top off the outfit he’d chosen. His robes hung open, one shoulder almost devoid of the fabric as it drooped onto his back. The maroon turtleneck he wore struck a perfect contrast with the golden undertones of his skin and matched impressively well to the emblem on his robes. He had tucked the turtleneck into the waistband of a pair of light wash jeans that made it hard not to marvel at the shape of his waist. The scent of his cologne was faint, overpowered by the sweetness of the shop, but you were picking up overwhelming scents of-

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” He scrunched his nose as he studied you, waving gingerly like you would have at a child.

“Oh! Uh, I’m here, I’m here. What the hell do you want anyway?” You turned your attention back to the two pastries you’d been considering before his sneak attack in an attempt to keep yourself from looking back at his form.

“What’re you doing here alone? Out of friends? Did ya bore them all to death?” He had rounded to the opposite side of the table, forcing you to look at him straight on.

“I walked into Hogsmeade with Georgiana and Soobin, if you must know. They wanted some time alone so here I am.” You glanced up again to see him leaning casually against the table with one arm bracing his weight.

“I just have to point out that you’re also alone, Beomgyu. So I’m not quite sure why so keen on bashing me.” Your eyes skate over the deserts one final time before you decisively package up a slice of the muggle cake. The urge to celebrate the small victory was squashed by Beomgyu’s scoff.

“I’m here alone because I chose to be, not because my best friend is on a date and didn’t want a chaperone. Don’t you find that a little embarrassing?”

To be honest, you hadn’t considered it that way. You knew that finding a person to keep you from third wheeling had been your responsibility. But maybe he had a point. Although he was a constant nagging force, Beomgyu was insightful and intelligent. He’d helped you in class many times back when you were friends. Nervously, you nibbled at your bottom lip and considered his words carefully. Did Georgiana find your presence today embarrassing? She was surely too nice to tell you so, and there was no denying the tension in her face while she waited for you to leave The Three Broomsticks earlier. Your normally stoic face must have betrayed you, conveying that you were starting to feel hurt at the words that suddenly seemed to make so much sense. 

“I was joking,” Beomgyu spoke up suddenly, rounding the table to once again be next to you. “Don’t take everything I say so seriously, Y/N. I’m beginning to worry for your sense of humor.” He picked up a couple of cookies with careful dexterity and settled them into the palm of his hand. 

“Of course,” you concluded bitterly, taking a step back in a bid to get to the counter and buy your treats. “Must be my broken sense of humor and not just the fact that you’re an ass.” His face twisted unpleasantly as you stepped further away. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but you were already pivoting on the balls of your feet to make your way toward the front of the shop. 

——

The evidence of the first frost of the season crunched underneath your feet as you hurried to class. As someone who prided themselves on showing up on time for classes every day, you were particularly embarrassed to have woken up with just twenty minutes to spare before the beginning of potions. There was no excuse, either. You had simply stayed up too late studying for the NEWT practice exam and forgot to set your alarm before lying down.

To make matters worse you’d greatly underdressed yourself, underestimating the absolute chill of the morning when you had peeled out from the window. Only now, as you found yourself feet away from the classroom did you feel the icy temperature begin to bite into your exposed skin. Your cheeks were numb with cold, and your hands shook as you pushed them under your arms for some amount of warmth. Luckily the classroom was warmer when you finally got to it. Guiltily, you grinned at your professor as he notably marked your attendance onto the scroll of parchment. 

“Rough night?” Beomgyu asked under his breath as the professor launched into the lesson for the day. You kept your back turned to the boy in favor of writing down the list of ingredients that was being provided to you. A firm poke in the middle of your back had you turning on your stool, already silently fuming as you came face to face with Beomgyu. 

“What?” You mouthed, trying your best not to alert your professor that neither of you were paying attention to him. 

“You look awful,” he mouthed back, pulling the most exaggerated gagging expression you’d ever seen in your life. Your fingers twitched, resisting the urge to grab him by his necktie and slap him across his annoyingly perfect face. Instead you threw up your middle finger boldly, practicing a muggle tradition that wizards had become quite fond of. Beomgyu feigned shock, laying a hand over his heart and pretending to faint right there at his stool. 

“-so you’ll be using this combination of potions for the group project, due in one weeks time.” Your professor concluded. Wide eyed, you spun back around on your stool only to see the words previously written on the board disappear with a flick of his wand. A group project? Potions, plural? You’d only taken notes on one mixture, and you were sure that Beomgyu hadn’t taken any notes at all. Although maybe the group project wasn’t among your table mate? Your heart fluttered as you prayed for that to be the reality, scanning your classmates to see if anyone got up to switch seats or combine tables. 

Not a single soul moved. 

“Guess it’s just us.” Beomgyu drawled from behind you. 

“Did you take any notes?” You asked, fear running through your veins. If both of you were clueless, you’d have to ask the professor to explain everything to you again, which would only implicate the two of you for not paying attention to begin with. 

Beomgyu shook his head and shrugged much too casually for a student who was in the dark about an entire project. 

“I’ll just ask someone. Hey, Art-” 

“No!” You scrambled for a rolled piece of parchment to hit him on the arm with before he could finish his shout across the classroom. “Please, do not scream across the room that we don’t know what we’re doing.” Your cheeks were flaming, anxiety and exhaustion building to a dangerous level in your bloodstream.

“Awe, are you ashamed to admit you were too busy talking to me to pay attention?” Beomgyu cooed, cradling his chin in his palms.

“No. I’m embarrassed that we’re the only ones not starting the work,” you glanced pointedly to all of the other tables where your classmates were hard at work on...something. Every table housed a slowly bubbling cauldron producing a steady stream of light grey smoke. The cauldron resting on the table between the two of you was alarmingly quiet, your stores of provided potion ingredients remaining untouched. 

“Alright, Y/N. How about right now we work on the one you wrote down,” he points a finger at the parchment containing the list of notes you managed to take, “and I’ll talk to someone about the rest. Since you’re too proud to ask for help.” Without waiting for you to process the words he gripped the parchment between his fingers and pulled it toward the middle of the table. He mumbled a simple aguamenti under his breath and the cauldron filled with the perfect level of water. He then scrutinized the words for just a moment before he began to collect ingredients with a practiced ease, barely even glancing at the labels of the hefty glass containers. You’d never seen him quite as focused in a class as he was at the moment, his nimble fingers uncapping lids and measuring precise amounts of lacewing flies with a delicacy you never would have expected to come from the hands of Gryffindor’s star Beater. 

One after the other, ingredients fell into the wrought iron cauldron, changing the color of the mixture from clear to an odd, murky green. You scrunched your nose in distaste but Beomgyu was nodding to himself in satisfaction, his fluffy hair bouncing back off of his forehead. 

“Stop staring and start taking notes, Y/N.” His voice was casual but his lips were twisted in a smirk as you scrambled for both an excuse and a fresh roll of parchment. 

“I wasn’t,” you defended as you begin to scribble out notes against the parchment, refusing to meet his eyes as the shame of being caught red-handed crawled up the back of your throat and stung behind your eyes. He simply hummed in acknowledgment and tossed in a few leaves of a plant you didn’t have time to identify into the bubbling mixture.

——

Impatiently, you tapped your foot against the stone floor. It echoed a sound that would have been satisfying in its consistency if it weren’t for the annoyance running through your veins. Beomgyu had promised to meet you in the west corner of the library today, at a prompt 7pm, in order to finish synthesizing your plan for the Potions project. You checked the clock on the wall again just in case you had somehow misread the hands only to find them confirming your suspicions. Beomgyu was blowing you off. He had suggested the time and place himself, and yet he couldn’t even have the decency to show up. 

Anger blossomed in your chest as you stood to gather the things you’d brought along. Your chair scraped on the floor and attracted the stares of a few other students put you paid them no mind as you swore under your breath. 

Of course Beomgyu had stood you up in the face of an important project. He was probably laughing away to his friends in the common room, boasting about how he’d left you sitting in the library like a fool. Once again he had proven himself to be an utterly useless and annoying human being that you wished you had never even met. Your teeth sunk into the supple flesh of your bottom lip so hard that blood pooled on your tongue, the bitter tang snapping you into action. The route to the Gryffindor common room was a familiar one, and the hatred brimming inside of you made your legs move even faster than usual, swearing under your breath as you finally came face to face with the portrait keeping you from entering the room. 

“I don’t have time for any password- please just let me in. I’m looking for someone.” Your words came rushed, obviously annoyed as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Now, you know that isn’t how this works, dear,” the painting asserted, crossing their arms to mimic your own stubborn pose. “I can’t let just anyone into the room. I’ve got,” the portraited stopped dead in its tracks and began counting on its fingers silently. “I’ve got 30 students inside right now, and it’s my job to protect them.” Your fists clenched at your sides over the stubborn portrait, fingers itching to grab your wand and level a badgering curse against the damned painting. It must have read the anger on your face as you fiddled with the fabric of your robes, as it’s booming voice came again; 

“Tell me who you’re seeking, and I can tell you if I’ve seen them!” With your fingers still curled around your wand, it took a fair deal of restraint to leave it in your robe pocket. After a deep, steadying breath, you looked back up at the portrait. A beat of silence passed before you slathered on a sweet smile, clearing your throat to quell any remnants of your frustrated growl. 

“I’m looking for Choi Beomgyu.” 

The portrait took a moment to contemplate your words, squeezing its eyes tightly and tapping its fingers as you assumed it searched the students inside the Gryffindor common room and dorms. 

“He’s not here.” It finally concluded, snapping its eyes back open to peer down at you again. Frustration flamed your skin red all the way to your hairline. Hogwarts and it’s grounds were extensive, and searching for him would surely take up your entire night. 

“I did happen to see out Quidditch players heading down to the pitch around 5 o’clock, though.” Not needing any further ceremony, you turned on your heels and made your way toward the exit of the castle. The corridors were fairly empty, and the few students still milling around were quick to step out of your way as you hurried through them, robes flowing out behind you. Silently you thanked your lucky stars that no professors had been around to inquire about why you were rushing out of the castle in such a haste. 

As soon as you set foot outside, you regretted not stopping by your dorm first to grab your coat and scarf. It had been three days since you woke up to the first frost, and the temperature had only continued to drop into frigid numbers. Even in the limited light provided by the setting sun you could see your breath fogging ahead of you. Cold air curled around your body, seeming to seep underneath your skin with a harsh ferocity. For now you simply tucked your hands deeper into the fabric of your robes, hoping that the heat of them in conjunction with your brisk pace would keep your body warm enough.

The walk to the Quidditch pitch was deceptively far when you traveled alone. Normally you were so distracted by conversation with your friends and the last minute bets between houses that you didn’t have time to mull over how many steps it took you to arrive at the stands; but today you were nothing short of pissed at how far away the compound had been built. Every step you took sent a shock of cold through your feet, your toes completely numb no matter how much you wiggled them inside your sneakers. The trees shuddered with you as you passed them, leaves spiraling to the ground as they finally give in to the pressure of the cold and resign themselves.

Finally you passed through the solid wood of the viewing stands, coming face to face with the expanse of the pitch in front of you. Totally empty. Not a single soul was to be found warming up on the grass or running practice games in the air. Upon listening, you couldn’t even hear any distant chatter that would indicate the team being huddled into the locker room.

“Shit!” A new wave of frustration crashed through your mind. Had you passed them on the way over? It was plausible that they had taken a different route back to the castle and your whole trip had been in vain. Exhausted, you leaned against the wall and listened to the whip of the banners against their metal poles, the clinking of their bindings matching with the steady, loud beat of your pulse. Just as you were about to turn and head back for the castle in your freezing shame, you heard another sound. This one was different, less uniform, almost like a grunt of exhaustion followed by a heavy thud. Your freezing feet moved almost without you to follow the noise. A vicious wind whipped your hair, mussing it up so badly that you had to stop in your tracks to gather it all back into place. You hazarded every step you took, unsure exactly where the source of the noise was coming from other than somewhere behind the stands. On your next step you heard the noise again, much closer this time, and the excitement of being close to solving this mystery had your footsteps speeding up.

Just as you rounded the curving stands, you spotted the culprit, still a little hard to make out due to the distance you had yet to cover, but the colors and shape of a Gryffindor Quidditch uniform were clear. Upon further inspection, it became obvious that the heavy thud you’d been hearing was a the heavy iron Bludger cracking against the magically reinforced bat. There were only two Beaters on the team, and one of them was the very man who’d forced you to walk into the frigid night. You continued your steady approach to the figure, morbidly curious over who it was that was out here pushing themselves to practice alone in the freezing cold. 

“Hey!” You yelled as you edged closer, hoping to give whoever it may be a fair warning that you were approaching. Within three feet of the body, there was no mistaking it to be Beomgyu. 

“Choi!” You raged, yelling much louder than required for him to hear you. The Bludger was sailing far away from the two of you with a strong hit as you closed the distance almost all the way. “I know you can hear me, asshat.” Beomgyu kept his eyes on the iron ball, effectively ignoring your words. In disbelief you glanced back and forth between his face-seeing the way his eyes narrowed in concentration as the Bludger came closer by the second. 

“Is this where you’ve been all night? Playing Quidditch while you were supposed to meet me in the library?” A strong gust of wind knocked the air out of you, shivers running down your spine as you waited for any response from the boy. The Bludger came whistling back toward the two of you, and in the split second you had the foresight to step back he had tensed his shoulders, gripped the end of his bat and took another strong and precise hit against the Bludger, sending it even further away than the last one. 

“Lost track of time.” He supplied absentmindedly, turning his head to regard you with lazy eyes. 

“What?” You seethed, stepping forward again, placing yourself in front of his frame in hopes of appearing somewhat intimidating. “You lost track of time? Let’s talk about the fact that out project is due in four fucking days, and all we have to show is a single god damn Potion. This was your responsibility,” you pushed your pointed finger into the front of his uniform, the fabric giving way to allow you to feel the firmness of his chest underneath. “I trusted you with the single task of making sure that we could figure out the rest of this project, and you fucked up!” Tears of frustration rimmed your eyes as the worry of failure overwhelmed you. As much as you hated Potions, you’d be damned if Choi Beomgyu became the reason you do poorly. 

“Listen, I seriously did just forget,” he pushed at your shoulders forcefully, to which you planted your feet into the ground harder. “Seriously, Y/N, I forgot! Now move!” 

“No! You are not,” you grabbed at his forearm and pulled it off of your shoulder, “going to blow me off again! We are going to work on this project right now, even if its the last thing I do!” 

“It’s about to be if you don’t fucking move!” He yelled, finally managing to uproot your feet and push you off to the side with so much force that you landed flat on your ass, the cold hardness of the ground knocking the breath out of your lungs. From the ground, you watched helplessly while Beomgyu scrambled to grab his bat in time to hit the whirring Bludger. He was a quick enough thinker to see that there was no way he’d make the move in time, so he simply did the next best thing- turning his back to the ball and ducking his head into his chest, covering the back of his neck with his arms. 

With a sickening crack, the Bludger made foul contact with Beomgyu’s back, striking just below his left shoulder blade. The force knocked him forward, his hands barely catching himself as he met the ground harshly. He cried out in pain, the sound bouncing around the stands and piercing your veins. In a hurry, you crawled toward his heaving body and urged him to sit up with the guidance of your hands. 

“Are you okay?” The words rushed out of you in a hurry, panic crawling up the back of your throat at the shine of tears streaming down his reddened cheeks. 

“Wh-what the hell do you think?” He groaned, body shaking as he struggled to even take a breath. 

“Okay, right. Dumb question. Let’s get you to the infirmary, yeah?” His legs shook as he got them under him, something akin to a baby deer taking its first few steps. Instinctively you shot out an arm to steady him, looping your arm behind his back as effectively as you could given the height difference and placement of his injury. 

“Merlin, I think I broke my shoulder blade,” he groaned, stumbling across the uneven ground with trepidation. 

“You didn’t, I watched. It actually hit right below your shoulder blade, so if anything it’s just bruised, and you probably won’t even need a bone-healing spell, so recovery should be little more than some Devil’s Claw for the pain and-” 

“Did someone cast a babbling curse on you? Merlin’s beard. It’s bad enough that you got me hit to begin with, and now I have to listen to you run your mouth!’ His voice was still pinched with pain, an octave lower than normal as he gritted his teeth. The two of you finally reached the threshold of the castle, encapsulated by the warmth of the torches littered all inside. 

“I’m trying to help! Did you ever consider the fact that if you had showed up to our scheduled meeting time, you could have avoided being hit. I could have avoided freezing all of my extremities off, and I wouldn’t have to be helping your ass to the infirmary.” 

The noise of your bickering outside of the infirmary wing attracted the nurse to the hallway, who furrowed her eyebrow in silent question over the two of you. 

“He got hit by a Bludger, ma’am,” you supply as soon as you see her. Her eyes widen instantly as she rushed forward, helping you guide Beomgyu into an empty cot. She shooed you aside as she fretted over him, asking questions about the incident in a low, steady tone before nodding seriously. Without any kind of warning, Beomgyu was pulling the fabric of his uniform over his head, leaving his top half bared to you. Your cheeks burned, and you cleared your throat nervously. The nurse was too busy prodding at the blossoming bruise to have heard your stutter, but Beomgyu was nothing if not aware. 

His dark eyes found your form standing just a few paces away, staring unabashedly at the faint hint of his abs that had become visible. 

“Somethin’ you like?” He drawled playfully, snapping you out of your reverie. 

“Merlin, no.” You sneered, hoping to cover the thickness of your tone as you swallowed hard. “Just trying to decide if I should tell the Quidditch team to get their backup trained for the game tomorrow night.” Beomgyu’s face fell at the implication of your words and a sting of regret struck your heart. 

“There will be no need for a backup, dear,” the nurse cooed, shuffling her feet as she gathered up a few healing supplies. She offered a bottle of innocent looking clear liquid to Beomgyu and he drank it instantly, grimacing at what you assumed to be a foul taste. “Now, dear, if you don’t fancy seeing your boyfriend in more pain as I heal him-”

“Please. He is not my boyfriend. I just helped him get here. I’ll be going now, anyway. See you tomorrow?” You asked pointedly, hoping he would understand your incessant need to finish the Potions project. He nodded slightly, and you scanned Beomgyu’s form one more time before excusing yourself to the nurse and scurrying back to your dorm. 

——

“I better hear a thank you.” Beomgyu asserted as soon as he slumped in the seat across from you. He had been so quiet in his approach to the table that you hadn’t heard him until now, rocketing your gaze up towards him from the pages of your Transfiguration book. 

“Beomgyu,” you breathed, relieved to see that he had been healed and able to return to classes just the morning after the Bludger hit. You schooled your features into cool indifference as soon as you saw his mouth twitch up at the sound of his name. “For what am I thanking you? Withholding information about the project?” 

“No,” he shook his head, springing a few carefully parted hairs loose from their spot. “For- number one-” he paused dramatically, drumming his bony fingers against the edge of the high-topped table, “providing you all the information for finishing this project.” Out of seemingly nowhere he produced a thick roll of parchment that unrolled to reveal a step by step explanation. Pages of carefully written instructions went into great detail on every step of the potions that needed to be made. A sense of relief and happiness washed through you, enough to make your hands curl into excited fists as you beamed. 

“Turns out our Seeker is good at more than catching a Snitch. She got the highest marks in this class last year, and agreed to share the notes with me.” 

“Thank you, Beomgyu. Seriously. I was beginning to worry.” 

“I know, I know. It feels good to be your savior, Y/N. Oh, which reminds me of reason number two; the fact that I spared you a Bludger hit last night.” 

“I thought we’d already covered this. Most of that encounter was your fault. Plus, your little shove left me with a bruise of my own on my ass.” Pouting, you shifted your weight in an attempt to alleviate the pain against said bruise. 

“Just admit it, Y/N,” he leaned forward, his face mere inches from your own so as not to be heard by anyone around. “You’re indebted to me. Two times over.” He was cocky, but you had to admit he had a point. As much grief as he had caused you, he had saved you from both a failing grade and an injury in just under 24 hours. 

“You’ve got a point.” Beomgyu shrunk back into his seat, cocking his head to the side as if he hadn’t heard you correctly. It seemed like he was waiting for a witty remark or some kind of argument to his words, but you kept a sure, steady gaze on him instead. Either your eyes were playing tricks on you or there was a slowly building flush of red blooming from under the collar of his cable-knit sweater onto his cheeks. Against your will, your mind reproduced the image of his bared chest from last night. 

“What do I owe you?” The question rolled off of your tongue like butter as you took the chance to lean forward to him, balancing carefully on your stool with your elbows planted onto the table. 

“I-I just,” Beomgyu frowned at his stutter, apparently upset by his own lack of confidence. His mouth opened and closed again in quick succession and you grinned wider. Another teasing lilt was right at the tip of your tongue, but the booming voice of your professor cracked the tension wide open and had you sitting back on your stool. 

——

Two days later, you stand behind your stool in Potions class, wringing your hands together nervously. Your portly professor had spent all morning swirling around the class, leaning over the cauldrons and vials present at every table. He muttered a few things to every pair of students, nodding along as they explained their approach to him. It seemed as if he were grading on the spot, since you caught a glimpse of a quill gliding over a small strip of parchment. 

Finally the elder approached your table, bushy eyebrows pinched into one another as he had already begun to scrutinize the potions laid out for him. He said nothing as he approached, quietly appraising your work. One by one, he picked up the vials one by one, peering through the clear bottom and giving them an experimental swirl. He hummed happily to himself and your heart soared. Across the table you noticed Beomgyu looking equally pleased. The professor set down the vials one by one before leveling his gaze onto you. 

“How do you think you did?” He questioned, producing the same thin strip of parchment you’d seen him use at other tables. Palms sweating, you stole a glance at Beomgyu who gave you an encouraging wave of his hand. 

“I think we did quite well, professor. It took us a bit to get the whole project together, but I feel confident in our end results here.” Nervously, your eyes skated down to his quill, tapping against the parchment rhythmically. 

“Well, I think you did quite well, the two of you. These potions are near perfect. Couldn’t make them any better myself.” It felt as if the air had been sucked from your lungs, shocking you beyond belief. Never once in your life did you think you’d be receiving such high marks in Potions- especially with Beomgyu as your partner. Your professor marked a delicate “A+” on the small strip of parchment. 

Beomgyu threw a triumphant fist in the air, wiggling in his spot with pure excitement. Your professor let out a belly laugh, spinning around to address the entire class. 

“I didn’t want to advertise this since I wanted you all to put in your best, pure efforts to the project. But, now that I’ve reviewed everyone’s work and determined the best,” you swapped a look of confusion with Beomgyu, both assuming that he was referring to you. “I am offering an award to our friends at Station 1!” He motioned to the two of you wildly, robes flailing as you ushered to the front of the room. Your peers glared at the two of you, but you were too far onto cloud nine to care. 

“Good thing I got those notes, huh?” Beomgyu muttered to you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. 

“Good thing I spent all last night making sure we actually had the potions to present.” Keeping your voice low and level to keep him from sensing just how grateful you were for his efforts. The class murmured lowly, surely trading snide remarks about the two of you until the professor cleared his throat pointedly.

From the pocket of his robes, the professor pulled out two small, clear vials. One was pressed into each of your palms, and you stared up at him with confusion. Maybe this was a sign you should have paid more attention to the types of potions around you.

“Luck potions, please use them carefully” he supplied helpfully, swirling back around to face the entire class. “Now, who’s willing to take a photo of me and our winners?” The professor bellowed, producing an old film camera from somewhere and brandishing until someone shuffled off of their stool.

——

Fresh, fluffy snow floated down in gentle waves outside the window. It was the thick of winter now, and despite your best efforts to bundle up you were still huddling into yourself for warmth as students shuffled into Potions around you. Everyone seemed especially lethargic, yearning for the break from classes that Christmas promised. You laid your head onto your folded arms, feeling just as exhausted as the atmosphere suggested. 

Sleep had been evading you lately, annoyingly deceptive as you would lay down in bed tired only to be kept awake by your racing mind for several hours. Somehow settling into your arms in this classroom was the most content you’d felt in days. And then you felt a firm push at the back of your head. There was no mistaking who the perpetrator was, especially as you heard the scrape of a stool directly across from you. 

“Good morning to you too, Beomgyu.” He was perched perfectly on his stool, eyes wide and bright. For as long as you’d known him, he had thrived in the cold and the snow. “You are obnoxiously cheerful. God damn Gryffindors.” 

“Not my fault you’re such a grouch. But I guess it is true that snakes don’t like the cold.” 

“Do you ever let up? Or do you get pleasure out of ruining my mood every single morning?” 

A grin cracked his lips as a short laugh bubbled through. “Thinking about my pleasure, are you? Concerned I’m not getting enough? I can assure you that-”

“Okay, gross. Stop. Enough. You know that isn’t what I meant.” Quite honestly, you had no time to endure his usual teasing so you simply turned your body away from him, idly watching the professor gather his things at the desk. 

“Right, let’s get going! We need all the time we can manage today!” He seemed more jubilant than usual as he centered his own cauldron onto the middle of his desk. “Today we’ll be making love potions. Amortentia, you may know. If you’ll open to page 104, you can find the procedure. It is important to note that this potion cannot make anyone truly fall in love, but it does create a strong attraction to whomever you make with it in mind. Of course, the full effect doesn’t apply unless it is consumed. Today we will simply be brewing it for practice. If done correctly, the potion will emulate-” 

“The scent of what you find most attractive,” you muttered absent mindedly, reading directly off of the page you had open in your lap. 

“Exactly, miss Y/N. Your potion today will smell like what you find most appealing.” He nodded proudly. A feeling of anxiety rose in your chest as he rattled on. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t think of the type of scents that would come from the potion. You were quite fond of some scents in candle form, but you wouldn’t classify them as...attractive. Even more worrying was the idea that no matter how hard you tried, you would have to reveal this concoction in front of Beomgyu, who took every chance presented to torment you. Your professor clapped his hands together, marking the beginning of your working period. 

The instructions were simple enough, so you took extra care to be sure that the   measurements were as perfect as you could get them. The room was shrouded in a hushed silence that indicated everyone was working hard on this. After all, this was the most exciting potion that’d been offered to you all year. 

“Can’t wait to see which poor dude you have a crush on,” Beomgyu chuckled as he stirred his pot exactly three times counter-clockwise. 

“Could say the same for you! I seriously petty whichever girl you’ve been fancying. Imagine being at the receiving end of your...ick. You’d better tell me who it is so I can send them a warning.” You stirred your pot the same way he had, watching the mixture turn to a stereotypical bright pink. The instructions lead you to allow the mixture to culminate for exactly two minutes before any results could be sought. 

The students who happened to work faster than you were already taking a sniff at their potions and recording the scents on their parchment, some pairs gossiping amongst one another about what they smelled. A clank of metal had you whipping your head upwards, locking eyes with Beomgyu as adjusted his small cauldron to bend over his potion. Since it wasn’t your own, there was no scent for you to distinguish, but you watched the way his eyes widened in shock for a second. 

Unfortunately you had no time to process his expressions before you had to examine the contents of your own cauldron. Before you could even take a deliberate sniff, your senses were rushed with a mix of sweetened musk, a wood that seemed somewhere between cedar and mahogany, and an addicting citrusy undertone that you eventually recognized as bergamot. You placed it immediately.

“Merlin, Beomgyu. Could you refrain from spraying your cologne right now? Why are you even carrying it with you in the middle of-” The words died in your throat as you realized how incriminating your words had become, seeing as Beomgyu had nothing but his quill in his hands. A feeling of sickness rose in the back of your throat as he let out a hearty laugh. 

“My cologne, huh? I actually didn’t even have time to put any on today,” he peered over at your parchment, his height allowing him to easily read the fragrance notes you had scribbled before complaining. “But those are the exact notes of what I wear.” 

Your cheeks flamed, the heat radiating so fully through your system that you felt yourself begin to sweat despite how cold you’d been before. There was no worse fate than this, you decided. Amortentia had betrayed you, putting you under the mercy of Beomgyu’s knowing stare. Fuck, did he really have to find out now that the smell of his cologne secretly drove you crazy? That as much as you hated the way he teased and antagonized you, somewhere deep down you’d never quite lost the crush you developed in second year? 

“I was beginning to think you might’ve had a crush on me, Y/N. Isn’t that so sweet! The stony little Slytherin finally realizing that she’s attracted to me...this is quite the revelation!” Beomgyu lamented, obviously overjoyed at the new ammo he could load into his teasing. 

As much as you searched, you could find no words to defend yourself, as the proof was truly in the potion. A bit defeated, you sunk back into your stool, content to bury your face into your hands until your next class began; but at your new level you could see Beomgyu’s own piece of parchment scrawled with what he had smelled. Reading them upside down was a bit of a challenge, but he was too busy complimenting himself to recognize your analytical stare. Written in a neat list were the scents: sage, some type of berry (juniper?), eucalyptus, something woody (cedar?). 

Your heart stuttered, a bitter laugh threatening to spill out and give yourself away. Skillfully you held it back, cursing to any god or deity who might be listening. The notes matched up exactly with the perfume you wore every single day.

——

“You asked him why he sprayed his cologne?” Georgiana gaped at you across the table in the Great Hall. The two of you had joined up for lunch just hours after your Potions class disaster.

“Yes, but that’s not all! Just before I melted into a puddle of my own dispair, I saw his list, and I swear to Merlin it’s the exact notes of my perfume! Look,” you produced the travel-sized bottle from your pocket, flipping it to the back label and listing off the exact ingedients.

“Wow,” Georgiana nodded, sinking her teeth into a piece of pizza. “That’s quite remarkable.”

“Why are you not giving me more of a reaction?” You whined, stomping your foot against the floor petulantly. She raised an eyebrow high, taking a few more chews at her food.

“You want me to be honest? Or nice?” She asked, weighing the invisible options on her hands in front of you.

“Honest, I guess.”

“Oh, I was hoping you’d pick that one. You see, my sweet Y/N, the two of you have been dancing around this for years. Even though you renounced him all those years ago, I still talk to him on occasion. Not to mention he’s friends with Soobin, so I’ve been provided with some...insider information. To be honest, Soobin and I have both been waiting for the day the two of you finally stopped bickering and like...made out.”

Your face twisted unpleasantly, shocked at her words. “Insider information?” You croaked, creases forming in your forehead. Georgiana smiled devilishly and you swore you could see red horns rising from her fiery hair.

“Beomgyu talks about you all the time. Apparently, back when he was dating Klara, he would often talk to Soobin about how she never bantered with him like you did. They broke up because he kept comparing her to you. Told Soobin that he’s had a crush on you just as long as you have, but he thought you thoroughly hated him.”

“He has a crush on me?” You sputtered, stomach twisting into knots somewhere between disbelief and excitement. Georgiana full on laughed upon seeing your face, the cackle permeating through the air and turning heads.

“Well, I’m not gonna be the one to bring it up. If he’s got a crush on me, he can bring it up.” You suddenly decide, finally indulging in the pizza that had been waiting for you since you sat down.

“That’s my girl, stubborn to the very end.” Georgiana grinned and offered her hand for a high five that you eagerly returned.

——

The weekend brought you a much needed break from both schoolwork and all things Beomgyu related. Christmas break was fast approaching, and all of your professors had surprisingly laid off on assignments. It seemed as if they were just as tired of grading as you were of doing the work.

Unsurprisingly you found yourself in the library, sitting underneath the twinkling of the fairy lights set up especially for the holidays. Most other students were out socializing, so the room was pleasantly vacant. As a result you were able to settle into one of the plush velvet couches that were usually occupied.

After roaming the aisles you’d found an anthology of wizard poetry that piqued your interest. Settling beteeen the cushions of the couch with a book made you feel the most at home you ever had, cracking open the delicate binding and balancing the book in your stomach as you began to read.

There was no way to tell how long you’d been reading, but by your estimations it was only about 20 minutes before someone was looming above you. Startled, you lifted your gaze over the book to see none other than Beomgyu standing before you. He was decked out in a sage green sweater paired with slightly oversized beige slacks. He had forgone his robes, but his Head Boy pin still shined on the breast of his shirt. Typical.

“Can I help you?” You asked, finally sitting up to regard him.

“I thought you’d be here.” He said simply, shuffling on his feet awkwardly. You blinked.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” you poked, slipping your book shut dramatically. “Did you want to ask me something?” Beomgyu licked at his lips before rubbing his fingers against his forehead.

“Merlin, why do you make everything so hard?” He groaned and seemingly became so exhausted that he collapsed onto the ornate rug under his feet. Seeing that you’d riled him up so much by doing practically nothing sent excitement through your veins. As much as the bickering annoyed you, there was no denying the thrill you felt when giving him back a taste of his medicine.

“What exactly am I making so hard? I don’t even know what you’re here for. To be honest I’m shocked you managed to find me in the library. I figured you would start to burn at the door and have to find a different way in.”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, a hint of a smirk playing at his pillowy lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t know why I’m here.” He finally began to reveal the award winning smile you’d come to know whenever he teased you. “I know what Georgiana told you.” His voice was low, so quiet that if there had been any other souls in the library you’d have missed it.

Your eyes flew open and he flushed instantly. “You two aren’t exactly quiet at the Great Hall, and I’ve got more than a few friends.” It was your turn to flush red, wondering just how many conversations between you and Georgiana had been overheard by other people. 

“So you know that I said...” 

“Why do you think I’m here? All it took was me knowing you also...you know,” he picked at the nonexistent loose threads in the carpet. Honestly, you were shocked at how reserved he had become in the face of this confrontation. All traces of his usual confidence seemed to have vanished in the moment. 

“I do like you, Beomgyu. I had a massive crush on you in second year, but then we got into that fight and-”

“I wouldn’t call it a fight,” he countered animatedly. “You just never understood my humor. All this time, I was hoping that you would catch the hints.” 

“Hints?” It felt like your eyes were going to fall out of your head with how wide you held them. “You call those hints? I’d call those lackluster clues, at best.” 

He was quiet for a moment, examining the smirk on your lips carefully. In a moment of impulse you slid off of the couch to sit opposite him on the floor, knees touching. Your heart hammered against your ribs.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, gripping at his thighs nervously. “Didn’t know how else to go about it.” 

“That’s okay, me either, obviously.” A rueful laugh escaped your lips, and he returned one just as easily. Up this close, the planes of his face were defined by the delicate light provided from the fairy lights. Shyly you shared glances, neither of you knowing quite how to deal with the charged anticipation in the air.

“Will you...come to the last Quidditch game tomorrow?” He finally spoke, snapping your attention back to him.

“Only if I don’t have to wear one of your ugly jerseies.” Feeling bold, you leaned forward just a few inches, beginning to close the gap between you gradually.

“Fine,” he acquised, leaning forward just the same as you had, his breath fanning hot over your face. “In exchange for not wearing a jersey, how about you...” he tapped at his lips cheekily. A surge of excitement tumbled through you.

“That’s a shit way of asking me to kiss you for the first time, Choi.” Nevertheless you leaned forward further, bumping your nose against his own before you finally pecked him firmly on the lips. You felt ridiculously shy, like you were having your first kiss all over again, but Beomgyu smiled reassuringly, pulling your hands into his own and linking them together. The touch encouraged you both, and your lips collided with more assurance than before.

The faint scent of pumpkin juice lingered on his lips, and you wondered how many bottles he’d drank before finally deciding to come find you. Finally you both sought a new breath, taking a moment to close your eyes and collect yourself. When they fluttered back open you saw Beomgyu staring back at you intently, pupils reflecting the strands of lights strung above you.

He mumbled something so quietly that you couldn’t even hear it at your close distance.

“What was that?” You asked, wondering if you’d caught the end of a charmingly romantic thought.

“I said you’re in need of practice.” He smirked, leaning back of his hands cockily.

“Fuck you, man,” you slapped at his shoulder with a firm clap. He gasped, a hand covering his heart as if he were being sworn into a committee.

“Already? I didn’t take you for such an impure heart!” Another hearty laugh bounced around the library and you ducked your head into your hands, resigning to the fact that you were stuck with him.

[fanficimagery]

Lost and then Found pt. I

Imagine being taken by HYDRA. After years with them, they set you loose on someone you haven't seen in a while. Unfortunately for HYDRA, you weren't as susceptible to their mind experiments like they thought.

Words: 8.6K Author's Note: Major trigger warning! There will be a bit of talk about non-consensual pregnancies and some failed pregnancies from said attempts. Also I didn’t want to post this, but this upcoming week is going to be stressful for me and I honestly don’t know how much writing I’ll get done. Please read the bottom note for help on hopefully part 2 of this.

Tag list: @aya-fay @70s-chic @sipsteacasually @kaitlyn2907 @scarlettwitch99 @thingsforimagination @b1sexualtonystark @living-that-best-life @alexnicolaidisss @l0ve-0f-my-life @eliwinchester99 @mimilh @rosesloml  @meredeph @lexy9716​ 

The team had been hanging around various floors of the tower when FRIDAY alerted everyone that they were needed in the meeting room ASAP. And when FRIDAY sounded urgent, the team knew it must be serious. Leaving the gym, Steve and Bucky run into Clint and Natasha who had been coming out of the locker rooms.

"Any idea what's going on?" Bucky asks Nat.

She shakes her head. "FRIDAY wouldn't cough up any more information. I contacted Tony, but he just urged me to get my ass moving."

As they wait for the elevator, the doors slide open and they nod to Wanda who's already standing in the back corner. With her arms crossed over her chest, she nods to each of her teammates as they file in. Ever since she had lost Vision, she hadn't been quite herself and everyone knew to give her whatever time she needed.

In the meeting room, the atmosphere is immediately tense. Sam is at the table and as a testament to how serious the situation is he doesn't even crack a joke the second he lays eyes on Bucky. Everyone takes a seat, with the exception of Tony who's still pacing at the front of the room with a tablet in his hand.

"Tony," Steve calls out. "What's going on?"

A moment passes and then Tony stops at the head of the table, looking up. "This." He swipes up on his tablet screen, sending a video hologram to the middle of the table so everyone can see. "This came in about fifteen minutes ago."

The video plays and the team watches on in shocked speechlessness. The video shows a young girl who couldn't have yet been a teenager be strapped down to a gurney and injected with several different vials. They listen as the poor girl screams and thrashes, and sobs about burning on the inside.

The video cuts out before popping up again and shows the same girl, a little older this time, and having a mouth piece shoved into her small mouth before a contraption is lowered around her head. Eyes dart to Bucky and no one says a word as his metal arm whirs when he watches the young girl go through something very similar to what he went through. As she screams, the video cuts out again yet again.

Everyone had been so focused on Bucky's reaction, that no one paid any attention to Wanda as her eyes widened when the video came back for a third round. The girl on screen is definitely older now, her baby fat has all but vanished, and she looks defeated. Her hair hangs in limp strands around her face and there's a collar around her neck that Wanda knows gives off one hell of a shock to the person wearing it when they disobeyed orders. An older male walks into view and the girl cowers away. She winces, her hands flying up to the collar around her neck. "Begin," a voice then sounds. The male lunges for the small female and she tries her best to fend off his blows, but she ends up beaten and bloodied within thirty seconds. At the end of the fight the man is given instructions and then he walks over to the girl, kneeling down and biting her around the wrist. She screams, the man takes a bullet to the back of the head, and the video cuts out.

This time when the video comes back, the girl looks a little more steadier on her feet and less beaten down. She looks ready for a fight. Towards the end of the clip she has bloodied, pointed fingertips. She's shoved back into a chair and that's when her emotionless mask drops, begging to not be wiped. She screams as they start the procedure and then by the end of it there are no more tears. There's just an emotionless female awaiting orders as the video cuts out.

Finally the last clip shows her fighting like she's been doing it for years, taking down one attacker after the other until she's the last one left standing. There's a sharp whistle and the girl stands at attention, and the video zooms in on her stoic expression before cutting out altogether.

"Who sent this, Tony?" Steve readily asks.

"Don't know. I have FRIDAY chasing an IP address that just keeps pinging in every part of the world."

"Do we even know who she is?" Natasha asks. "And what the whole point of this video was?"

"No. Not a cl-"

"Her name is Y/N." Everyone looks to Wanda who can't take her gaze off her hands in her lap. "She was already there with HYDRA when Pietro and I showed up so long ago."

"Willingly?" Clint wonders.

Wanda shakes her head. "When we had gotten there, she had just turned nineteen. She was already stronger than the average human, but we never truly saw what she could do. She was different." She finally looks up, expression sad. "HYDRA was not all that we thought it would be, but by then there was no turning back. We'd seen Y/N around base, but she was always so stoic and never spoke to anyone. But when we had one on one time with her and the guards would leave us under her care, it was like a switch had flipped within her. She was so much lighter and she spoke to us like we had been friends since we were children."

"Why didn't we find her the first time we met you and your brother?" Tony then asks.

"She had been gone for weeks by then. They told us she was killed on a mission they sent her on, and that me and Pietro were going to be the new fists of HYDRA."

"The last video was stamped a week ago," Bucky says. "HYDRA lied."

Sam huffs. "Of course they did."

"They must have seen you, your brother, and Y/N getting friendly. They couldn't have their best weapons socializing and turning against them," Bucky says.

Clint sighs. "So what's the plan?"

"We get her back," Wanda says, leaving no room for Tony or Steve to say otherwise. "She was forcefully taken, unlike Pietro and I. She does not belong with them."

"It's been years, Wanda," Natasha says softly. "She might not be the same girl you knew."

"But what if she is? She is the only family I have left."

For a long moment no one says anything, so Tony takes it upon himself. "Then we look for her, but you're responsible for getting through to her. She'll only know you, not us."

"Fine."

Steve and Tony talk a bit more about being prepared for when FRIDAY tracks down their target, and then everyone is being dismissed.

Wanda takes a moment, letting everyone get up and walk out first, when Clint walks up behind her chair. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he leans down some to say, "Y/N is not your only family, kid. We're your family too." Wanda's heart cracks just a little and she reaches up to cover Clint's hand with her own to let him know she understands. "Just keep that in mind in case we don't find Y/N or she's no longer who she used to be."

Wanda gulps and then nods. "I will."

Working for HYDRA has been absolute hell. Ever since you had been taken as a little girl you were hell-bent on getting out of there which meant doing anything and everything to be in their good graces. Obviously you didn't learn to do so until you were sixteen and had most of your emotions under control.

They experimented and tortured and even tried their mind wipes like they did on their beloved Winter Soldier, but surprisingly your mind was never empty like they hoped to be. Of course, though, you kept that little detail to yourself wipe after wipe. But after everything that went on while you were in their grasp and after whatever they turned you into, you realized you couldn't quite leave and turn yourself loose on the public while you had no control over what you could do.

So you stayed and obeyed like a good little soldier, and attempted to train their new little puppets. Only being left alone with Wanda and Pietro became the one thing you started looking forward to up until they told you the twins didn't survive one of the trials. You had been heartbroken and devastated, but you couldn't let them see. So you nodded, let them move you to another facility and began anew.

You lost yourself within HYDRA, honing your skills and becoming someone even the other soldiers started to become wary of. The mind wipes became less and less the more obedient you became, but then they had a new mission for you- a mission which made your loathing for them hit an all time high.

You've been sitting in solitary for weeks now, biding your time until you could break free and get the hell out of dodge. All morning you've been antsy and it only becomes worse when you can feel the tension mounting all around you.

The door opens and you immediately snap to attention, but the guard that comes in does not have a lunch tray in his hands. Instead, he has a uniform which he readily tosses at you. "Get dressed. You've got a mission."

You quietly snarl at the guard after catching your suit and his hand immediately goes to the electrical prod at his side. "Careful," you drawl. "You wouldn't want your superiors to find out you injured their most prized possession."

His right eye twitches and he lets his hand fall limp. "The clock's ticking on your life, bitch, and when it's up I'll happily put you down."

"We'll just see about that."

The guard turns around and stomps away so he's standing just outside your door, and you hurriedly strip to get dressed in the apparent new uniform. The material for the pants are thin and fit like a glove, but you've worn these before and you know they're impenetrable to blades. Your boots are standard issued, but the long sleeve shirt- the shirt gives you pause because of the padding that's been added to it.

Once you're dressed and your hair has been tied up, you march up behind the soldier and readily clasp your hands behind your back to await orders.

Emotionless mask in place, you're led out and about the base. Everyone seems to be in a tizzy and the smell of gunpowder and blood is thick in the air. You can hear the gunshots and shouting from behind closed doors several rooms away, and you're not surprised that that's exactly where you're led.

The General meets you outside one room in particular and he dismisses your guard with a wave of his hand. You bite your tongue to keep from smiling at the fact the guard grumbles at being dismissed so easily.

"Ah my dear Y/N," the General coos. "Come. We've got several mice trapped and we need you to rid us of them once and for all." You blankly blink at him, nodding once to let him know you understand your mission.

The second he turns around to enter the code for the room, your shoulders drop just a bit and you attempt to put yourself in the mindset of fighting once again. The door slides open and you follow like an obedient little soldier, only to stop short at the sight of the assembled heroes standing on the opposite end of the room. One in particular stands out, her scent hitting you like a freight train and you have to try your hardest not to show an inkling of knowledge about who she is.

You stand next to, but an inch or so behind, the General's left side with your hands still clasped behind your back and feet shoulder width apart as you stare straight ahead. You're trying your damnedest to focus on the red, white, and blue shield Captain America is holding out before him, and not show any recognition for Wanda who is desperately calling out to you in hopes of recognizing her.

You block out what the General is saying, no doubt gloating about your skills, and zone back in just as he gives what he thinks is a command you're programmed to obey. With your right foot planted, you take a step back with a left and flick your wrists out at your sides so claws unsheathe themselves. You can hear several heartbeats pick up speed and you finally meet Wanda's gaze. She seems to still as you offer her the faintest of grins and send her a wink, only to twist on your right foot a moment later and send your clawed left hand into the throat of the General.

The Avengers all tense and prepare for a battle as the General gurgles on his own blood, and you lean in close to his ear so you can say, "Your first mistake was taking me from my family when I was just a little girl." He tries to pull your hand from his throat, but he is no match for your strength. Growling, you squeeze your hand that's still embedded in his throat. "And your last mistake was reintroducing me to Wanda, and giving me hope." Just as the alarms start to blare, you rip the General's throat out and let his limp body fall.

"Y/N?"

You glance up, smirking at Wanda and her wide-eyed expression. "Hello, little Maximoff." You flick your hand free of some of the blood and then smile at her companions. "Avengers." You nod at them in greeting.

"You remember."

You blink at her, not bothering to answer the obvious. Instead, you can hear walkie talkies going haywire outside the room and you turn around to glance up at the windows where you know others are watching. You mockingly wave at them with your bloodied hand and start pacing in the middle of the room, putting Wanda and the Avengers at your back. Looking up at the window, you let your smirk drop into a scowl. "You think you can take me from my family, torture and brainwash me, and then sic me on the only other family I've ever known?" You yell, seething. Cracking your neck, you let your rage take over and feel the bones shift uncomfortably in your face. Even your eyes burn and you know they're flaring an electric blue. "You're fools for thinking you could control me."

You feel a soft pressure on your wrist and immediately turn to growl at the person who dares touch you, but you lower your head in shame when you see it's just Wanda. She softly gasps and you try to turn away. "What did they do to you?" She asks as she gently grasps you by the chin to make you face her once more.

"What they do best?" You mumble, sharp teeth catching on your bottom lip. "They turned me into a monster."

Wanda's voice catches in her throat, but before she can say anything you're facing the door and stepping in front of her to shield her. Seven soldiers rush in, electrical prods gripped tight in hand.

"Why don't they have any guns?" You hear one of the Avengers ask.

"They must want her alive," someone else answers.

"If you don't stand down, we're going to have to resort to drastic measures," one HYDRA agent says.

"Then resort to them," you growl, "because now that I know Wanda is alive you're gonna have to kill one of us just to separate us again."

Wanda steps up next to you then, hands slowly rotating at the wrists as red energy floats around them. "And trust me, I am not so easily killed."

You can sense the Avengers all stepping into line behind you, but you don't bother looking at them. Instead, you focus on the threat in front of you and the fact they have more people gathering outside once the first line falls. Then from one second to the next, there's a silent command that sends the HYDRA agents into fight mode.

You break off from Wanda, drawing a few agents towards you. Your fighting skills come into play and it's easy for you to either block or withstand the shock of the electrical prods. However, the agents are not so lucky since you're going in for the kill. If you're not kicking in knees and snapping necks, your claws and teeth are digging into throats and ripping out flesh. You're roaring and snarling, and scaring most of the agents you come into contact with, but there are a select few which are all too happy to disobey orders and engage you in physical combat.

You take quite a few hits to the face and sides, and for a moment you're worried, but you have to push through and worry later.

You're not sure how long the fight lasts, but all you know is hat the last agent you claw until he's gurgling on his own blood is the last one to go down. Panting and heaving, electric blue eyes scan the room. All the Avengers are still standing, most of them don't even look like they participated in the fight, but all are watching you with wary eyes.

Wanda steps in your direction and you growl, but then stop the moment her hands go up to show you she means no harm. "It's over," she tells you, her accent heavy and reminding you of so long ago when you first took her under your wing. "If you want to leave, you need to calm down. My team has no idea who you are and you being so hostile makes them nervous."

"Team?" The word rumbles through your throat as your gaze jumps from person to person. "But where's Pietro?"

When your gaze lands back on Wanda, she's smiling softly. But that smile soon wobbles as she shakes her head. "He died a while back. I'm sorry."

You shake your head as you take a step back and Wanda quickly closes the distance between the two of you. She wraps her arms around until you lower your head to her shoulder and you sniffle quietly. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. He died a hero," she says. "We saw the error of our ways and the Avengers took us in." You finally allow yourself to wrap your arms around her, breathing her in and calming your rage. When you feel yourself sag against her, you finally pick up your head and smile as she runs a finger down the bridge of your nose. "There you are."

"M'sorry."

"For?"

"For you having to see me that way. I didn't even know you were alive and then they just told me to dress and take care of a mice problem they had. I didn't know it was the Avengers."

"It's okay," Wanda assures you. "You did the right thing."

"Um, I hate to break up this crazy reunion, but we need to go."

You glance at the man with wings and nod. "That would be a good idea. They'll send more soldiers soon."

Captain America glances at Wanda. "Get her to the quinjet. We're gonna do a sweep of the base before bringing it down."

Wanda gives him a nod and then she's urging you to follow her. You follow her through the winding hallways and an elevator ride up to the surface, and you huff a quiet laugh when you see the destruction left in the Avengers' wake. Off in the distance there's a jet and Wanda wastes no time in leading you up the ramp, and onto a seat.

"Just wait right here." She rushes towards a door and you're surprised a small bathroom sits behind it. She grabs what appears to be a hand towel from inside and then walks over behind the cockpit of the jet, grabbing a bottle of water from inside a bench seat. Then walking back over to you, she gestures to your face. "You've got a lot of blood."

"Oh." You take the towel and water, and quickly wet the towel to start wiping off your face and hands. There's nothing you can do for your clothes, so you leave them be.

As you wait for the others to return, you fidget in your seat and exhale softly as you catch Wanda's gaze. "What made you guys hit this specific base?" You wonder. "They're usually very careful about the comings and goings so they didn't attract the wrath of the Winter Soldier."

Wanda smiles and takes a seat across from you. "Bucky has been going on a world tour of tearing down HYDRA bases in his free time. We think HYDRA got tired of it and wanted to lure us into a trap, so they sent us a video of you."

You frown. "Why me? And what video?"

"They wanted me to rush in and not be at one hundred percent, hoping I'd make a mistake," she says. "Bucky and Natasha believe HYDRA saw us getting close, so they separated us and told us the other had died so we'd follow them faithfully. And when they sent that video, I was stunned. I wanted to rush in and bring you home, but the team made me take a beat." Having stood up halfway through her explanation, Wanda had retrieved a tablet and tapped away at it. Handing it to you, you find a paused video on screen.

Pressing play, you watch yourself be tortured and experimented on, and taught to kill. You wrinkle your nose at how young you were and how sickly you were at one point until they found a method that took and made you what you currently are. You're so caught up in the video that you aren't paying attention to your surroundings and are surprised to see the Avengers walking up the ramp.

"Done already?" Wanda asks.

"All we have to do is detonate once we're up in the air."

Wanda exhales in relief and you meet the gaze of several Avengers who don't know what to think of you after seeing you rip through the HYDRA soldiers like it was nothing. To break the ice, you say the first thing that pops into your mind. "So that was fun."

Iron Man snorts as he walks on by, heading straight for the cockpit. "Great. Another murder-happy supersoldier."

"Uhh, I'm not a supersoldier," you say. The rest of the team glances at you and you go on to explain. "On the video, you all saw the man bite me. Right?" There are various forms of acknowledgement. "Well that's what turned me into what I am. A bite."

"A bite from what?" Black Widow wonders.

You shrug. "The best I can come up with is a werewolf."

Hawkeye snorts, but at your no nonsense expression he sobers up. "Oh. Uh, those exist?"

"I'm assuming so," you say. "I get extra rage-y during a full moon, so I'll probably have to be chained up when the next one comes around." Wanda looks startled at your confession, but you flash her a small grin. "It's fine. I'm used to it by now."

Everyone takes a moment before either taking a seat or steadying themselves, and then there's lift off. The quinjet rises higher and higher until it hovers mid-air. Captain America walks towards the cock-pit and after giving the all-clear you can hear a distant boom and concrete caving inward.

"Well that's another base down," Captain America says.

Exhaling in relief, you allow your eyes to close and relish the feeling of being free. Your moment of peace, however, is short lived when you feel eyes on you. Opening them, Captain America and the Winter Soldier are sitting across from you now. Wanda has taken the seat next to you and you smile as she lays her head on your shoulder.

"I know you've been through a lot, but we have some things we'd like to discuss," the good Captain says.

You nod. "Ask away."

"They wiped you over and over," the Winter Soldier says matter of factly. "Why didn't it take?"

"I honestly have no idea," you admit. "The first time, it took. I didn't know who I was or where I was."

"How did you break out of it?"

"Something one of the doctors said triggered a memory from when I was younger and it just snowballed from there. I started remembering, but a few months after that I was wiped again. The second time didn't take quite so well, but I still forgot. I just knew there was something missing and slowly but surely it started coming back," you say. "But then after I was bitten, the mind wipes completely stopped working. It hurt like hell and I learned to fake it until I could find a way out of there."

"We didn't find much on you," the Winter Soldier says. "Their computers were already self-destructing, but we did manage to find a book where they wrote down your trigger words. You don't mind if we say them to make sure you're telling the truth?"

Wanda's head immediately snaps up, no doubt ready to tell them to back off, and you grin at her protectiveness. "It's fine." She then turns to look at you in shock and you wave her off. "Honestly, it's fine. They don't work. I should seriously win an Oscar for best actress."

Hawkeye and the Black Widow stand on either side of Captain America and the Winter Soldier, and he slowly reads the words aloud after opening the book. "Blue. Full moon. Bitten. Beta. Wolf. Red."

Everyone seems to hold their breath and the corner of your lips quirk into a grin. "Still doubting me?"

Captain America huffs. "That's unbelievable."

"You've fought aliens and Asgardian princes, Captain. My broken mind should be the least unbelievable thing."

"Steve. My name's Steve," he says. "And you're not broken." Your grin falters as you blink at him in surprise. "And this is Bucky." The Winter Soldier nods at you and you return the sentiment.

"Clint," Hawkeye says.

"Natasha."

"Sam."

"And I'm Tony Stark, but I'm sure you knew that."

"Uh, sure," you slowly muse. When he squawks and turns around his seat, you huff a small laugh. "Of course I know who you are. I know who you all are thanks to HYDRA and their obsession with you. I just wasn't privy to the fact that Wanda was part of the team until now."

They take your word for it and now that with the knowledge that the trigger words do nothing to you, it seems to bring some ease to the group and everyone finally settles in. According to Wanda the jet ride is going to take a bit so you might as well make yourself comfortable.

About twenty minutes into the ride, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. You chalk it up to the fact the seats aren't really that comfortable to begin with, but when you move to stretch your back a little you feel a pang just to the right side of your abdomen. The pain causes you to still and when it lingers you close your eyes to concentrate on your hearing. Unfortunately, the roar of the jet's engines prevents you from hearing anything.

You abruptly stand up which causes every gaze to snap to you, but you pay them no mind. You feel a cramp suddenly take hold on your lower abdomen and you bend at the waist, breathing through it.

"Y/N?" Wanda calls out.

"Something's wrong." With those two words, you feel the tension in the jet amp up. Your hand goes to your side, rubbing there and then following towards the cramp in your lower abdomen. "Something's really wrong."

"What's going on?" She asks.

You whirl around, eyes burning and you don't even care that they're flaring blue at your friend. "Your magic. Can you feel things with it? Or people. Anything?" You ask in a rush.

"I- I don't know what you-"

"Can you feel someone's conscious or whatever! I need- I just-"

"Okay. Okay," she slowly stands up. "I can. Now tell me what's wrong."

You immediately grab her right hand and set it against your abdomen. "Tell me if you can feel anything." Your eyes burn again, this time with unshed tears. "I can't listen for a heartbeat over the jet's engine."

As your words sink in, Wanda's eyes widen. "You're pregnant."

"Holy shit," you hear someone mutter behind you.

"It hurts." You finally allow the tears to fall. "It's not supposed to hurt."

"How- how far along?"

"Three and a half months. Please, Wanda, I can't-"

Without further prompting, Wanda's eyes glow red. You glance down and see her hand glow red as well, her magic then slowly encircling your abdomen. After what feels like an eternity, she slowly smiles. "There it is." Her gaze darts up to you and the red fades away. "I can feel him. Or her."

You choke back a sob, your hand flying to your mouth to muffle it. Wanda immediately embraces you and you sink into the comfort she's offering you. Then after a moment there's a hand on your shoulder that doesn't belong to Wanda and you lift your head up to see Sam.

"Hey girl, mind if I check you out? You fought awfully hard back at the base and given your condition I'd be more at ease if I knew everything was good."

Your brow furrows. "You're a doctor?"

"No, but I've got some training bandaging people up for the real docs. The most I can do for you right now is check for tender spots so I can report back to the doctor at the compound and insert an IV."

You look to Wanda for her opinion and she nods to let you know it's okay. Then looking back at Sam, you nod. "Okay."

Clint immediately pulls down a cot from where it was folded against the quinjet wall and Sam gestures for you to lay down. He instructs you to lift your shirt and you do so, lifting it until it's bunched beneath your bust. "Okay so I already see some bruising."

His fingertips touch the side of your abdomen and you automatically growl. He freezes and you wince. "Sorry. Instincts."

He chuckles. "It's okay. Given what you apparently are and the circumstances, that's to be expected. Am I good to proceed?"

"Yeah." You inhale shakily. "You're good."

Sam continues his brief examination, pressing here and there around your abdomen for any tender spots. You wince at one particular push and he quietly apologizes. When he's done, he leans back. "You're definitely gonna have to be checked out as soon as we get to the compound."

"Understood."

"But I'd like to get an IV started if that's okay. With you being pregnant and under HYDRA's care, I rather get some fluids in you that I know haven't been tampered with."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's fine."

You sit up and Wanda walks over to sit next to you on the cot, taking your hand between both of hers to offer you some semblance of comfort. Steve gets up to go speak with Tony and you ignore the quiet conversation they're obviously having about you. You can feel various stares on you, but you keep your gaze dead ahead and manage to keep from fidgeting or lashing out.

You don't know when, but you end up dozing off against Wanda. Then the next time you're conscious, you're being gently shaken awake and you watch as everyone starts to disembark the jet.

"We're home," Wanda murmurs. "Are you ready for this?"

"Yeah."

Slightly stretching, you're apprehensive about any sort of pain flaring but it never comes. You're thankful for it and then stand up to walk side-by-side with Wanda. Arm hooked through hers, you follow her off the jet and into the sleekest building you've ever laid eyes on. Sam is waiting for you, alongside a woman who smiles kindly at you. She introduces herself as Doctor Cho and you readily follow after her.

The labs make you apprehensive, but Wanda and Sam assure you everything is fine. Doctor Cho has you change into an unflattering medical gown and she talks through everything right before she does it so you're not caught off guard. All in all, being poked and prodded by this woman is a lot more pleasant than when HYDRA's doctors did it.

After a while, Doctor Cho comes back with a tablet in hand. You can see she wants to ask for privacy, but you immediately let her know that you're okay with Wanda and Sam hearing everything. Since you're staying wherever Wanda is, it's only fair the others know what's going on with you so there are no secrets.

Smiling, Doctor Cho glances at the tablet before looking up at you. "So everything seems to be completely normal," she says. Sam and Wanda exhale in relief. "Sam mentioned some bruising around your abdomen when he first walked in, but there is no sign of any bruising whatsoever. You and the baby seem one hundred percent healthy given everything you've through."

"I heal fast," you quietly admit. "I'm not sure why it took so long for me to feel the pain, but I panicked because of the baby and I wasn't thinking straight back on the jet."

"As an expecting mother, it's normal to panic. I had first hand experience with Mr. Stark's wife a few years back. Panicking is normal, but you just have to remember to breathe and take it one step at a time."

"Easier said than done," you mumble.

Doctor Cho chuckles. "Well for the next few weeks, I want you to take it easy. I'm not putting you on bed rest because of your accelerated healing, but I don't want you doing any strenuous activity."

"Don't worry," Wanda muses. "I'll make sure her butt is planted on the sofa at all times."

"Well okay then," Doctor Cho says. "I have some clothes for you if you want so you don't have to get back into that suit."

"I'd like that. Thank you."

"And if you're up for it, I'd like to see you again next week so we can make sure you and baby are still heading on the right track. I'll even order in some prenatal vitamins and a few others that you're lacking."

You nod. "Okay. That sounds good."

Reconnecting with Wanda had been easy. You were happy that she and Pietro got away from HYDRA when they did, even if Pietro didn't get to enjoy his freedom, and she was sad that you had been under HYDRA's thumb this entire time. But a little wine (for Wanda) and a lot of grape juice (for you), and the two of you were chatting like you hadn't missed any time at all.

After that, settling in at the Avengers' compound was a lot easier than you anticipated. Everyone, with the exception of Tony and Clint, lived just behind the compound in a new building that had been erected not too long ago and it was a lot more homely than you were expecting. You had moved in with Wanda for the meantime, keeping to her quarters so as to not step on any toes. But on the rare chance you decided to stretch your legs, you were surprised that the others would cordially start a conversation with you to see how you were doing.

Then after several visits with Doctor Cho where she continued to tell you that you and baby were doing extremely well, Wanda decided to have a family dinner in celebration.

"So who's all going to be here again?" You ask, already looking through the refrigerator.

"Just the usual," Wanda tells you. "I didn't want Clint and Tony to have to drag their families out here, but they do check in every now and then. They're happy you're settling in."

You snort, shutting the refrigerator door and standing straight. "Are you sure that's it and it's not because I haven't ravaged anyone to death?"

"Y/N.."

"I'm only joking." You grin. "Now can you please contact the others and tell them to hurry up? I'm starving!"

Grinning, Wanda takes her phone in hand and starts tapping away. She chuckles at something on her screen a few moments later, but before you can ask what's so funny you hear several individuals approaching. The aroma of the food hits you next and your mouth immediately starts watering. Steve, Bucky, Natasha, and Sam walk in- each and every one of them carrying various bags of takeout.

"Hey Y/N, think you got a little drool there," Sam says, gesturing to the corner of his mouth.

And without missing a beat, you say, "Not only am I a pregnant woman, Samuel, but I'm a pregnant wolf. I will eat you if you don't stop teasing me."

Sam gasps in offence as everyone else chuckles, and then they're setting the food down on the table to start unloading it as Wanda asks you to help her with utensils and drinks. But the second you turn back towards the table and see all the food laid out, you pause and take it all in. And then promptly burst into tears.

Everyone seems startled, but you're quick to get yourself under control. Sniffling and then wiping the tears away, you say, "I'm sorry. It's just that there's so much food!"

Steve is the first to chuckle. "You're crying because there's a lot of food?"

"Well yeah. You brought all this food and you're not expecting anything from me." Steve's smile instantly vanishes. "HYDRA would offer me nice things, but it always came at a price."

Sam whistles lowly. "Well that just took a turn for the depressing." A beat passes and then, "Come on, little momma. Come grab some grub."

Wanda smiles kindly at you and you finish making your way to the table. You end up with her at your side and Bucky across from you, and a table full of food laid out in front of you. Then the second Natasha reaches for pan fried dumplings, you reach for one of the largest burgers you've ever seen and a whole tray of fries. You groan at the first taste and proceed to finish it off in five more bites. You eat some fries and then stare at the remaining burgers with longing.

"Go ahead," Natasha tells you. "We have more than enough."

You sheepishly grin in her direction and grab another hamburger, devouring it without a care in the world.

But then when you eye the sushi and reach for it, you gasp when the chopsticks in Bucky's hand whack the back of your hand. "No. Raw fish is bad for pregnant women."

A growl unconsciously slips free and the whole table freezes. But then the situation you're in sinks in and you roll your eyes as you pull your hand back into your lap. "Then just say so, Barnes. Don't whack me. I'm not a damn dog." You're scowling at him, but then your words sink in when you see the corner of his lips twitch. "Oh shut up."

The whole table laughs and you shake your head, grinning as you then reach for a container of Chinese noodles that smell absolutely divine.

Later, stuffed full and laying across a sofa, the whole lot of you are relaxing as the TV plays some random TV show Sam had put on. A commercial comes on for pampers and you groan. "I am not looking forward to diaper duty."

Wanda chuckles, but it's Natasha who asks, "So you plan on keeping the baby?" You startle at the question, glancing over at her. "I mean everyone just kind of figured you wouldn't want to given the circumstances of when and where you became pregnant, so-"

"No, I get it," you tell her. "When HYDRA first told me the plan of birthing them a soldier, I kind of lost it. I pretty much went feral at the idea of forcefully having a baby." Gulping, you quickly sit up to explain all that went down. "They wanted to breed me," you sneer, "and they had to sedate me for their chosen soldier to just enter the same room." Immediately your nose tingles, everyone's anger wafting off of them in waves. "Unfortunately for them, they forgot to take into account that my metabolism burned through everything ten times faster than a normal human and I came to just as my pants were being unbuttoned. The guy barely had time to smirk before I ripped his throat out. With my teeth."

The men all stare at you in various stages of shock, but Wanda and Natasha both smirk. "Atta girl," the redheaded assassin muses.

"Killing their top candidate was a big upset, so they attempted to wipe me again," you say with a shrug. "But when the higher-ups got wind of an unscheduled wipe, they came down to see what that was all about. Needless to say, they were not impressed with their Doc's breeding tactics. Doc One took a bullet between the eyes and they brought in Doc Two who was a big fan of artificial insemination." Everyone winces. "Pregnancies one and two didn't stick, so they tried pregnancy three with a sample they had in the freezer. I don't know who the father is, but HYDRA was really ecstatic when month three came along and the two of us were still in good health."

"And you're okay with keeping this baby?" Wanda softly asks.

"I kind of have to be. This baby," you say while gently touching your abdomen, "is half me and half someone else who I'm pretty sure is enhanced. Even if I thought adoption was an option, I don't think I could live with myself knowing a piece of me was somewhere out there."

Everyone takes a moment after your story sinks in, thinking about all that you've been while in HYDRA's control. Afterwards, Steve clears his throat. "So before anyone goes overboard with baby stuff, we're gonna have to put you in your own apartment." He smiles when he notices he catches you off guard with that. "No need to overflow Wanda's apartment with baby things when we have plenty of room to spread out still."

"A-Are you sure?" You ask. "I was ready to start looking elsewhere for a place to live, but-"

"No. HYDRA will be on the lookout for you and that baby," Wanda says. "You're staying here where they won't dare to infiltrate."

You glance at each present Avenger, taking in their pleasant expressions and sniffing them out for any hints of deceit. Finding none, you allow yourself to relax and grin. "Okay then. We'll stay here."

Cohabitating with the Avengers is nothing like you expected. Everyone's guard is down while at home and everyone likes spending time together in the communal spaces when there's not a mission for them to be worrying about. Sam especially gets a kick out of seeing how your appetite holds up against the two supersoldiers and he's impressed that you can eat the same amount or sometimes more.

And when the full moon is less than a week away, it's not just you who's worried about it.

Tony flies in when they notice you're quick to anger and they quickly clean out the hulk proof room that hasn't been used in quite some time. Steve and Wanda take charge, asking what would make you most comfortable, and you admit that anything with your scent on it will do. But what catches everyone off guard is that you sheepishly request something with their scent on it as well and you have to embarrassingly admit that it's a werewolf thing. With you spending so much time with them, you've kind of latched on and your wolf considers them yours.

Everyone is game to get you whatever you need and within half an hour they've got your bed set up in the room, and blankets and pillows from those you'd been living with these past couple of weeks. Everyone takes care to not annoy you the couple days leading up to the full moon, and then you're encouraged to go ahead and settle in the room the day you snarl at Tony for making a puppy joke.

Wanda sits in an armchair in the room as you sit against your headboard, talking about anything and everything as you practice some of Bruce's meditation tips. The door to the room is open for now, and every now and then you can hear someone pass by to quietly check in.

No one needs to tell you when the moon's reached its apex because you can feel the change within you. Your breathing becomes a little heavier and your fidgeting is no doubt more apparent. Sweat starts to bead along your hairline and you curl your fingers inward so as to not shred any of your bedding when you feel your claws suddenly elongate.

"Y/N..?"

"Wanda." You inhale deeply and slowly release it. "I think it's time you go."

You hear the armchair creak under Wanda's weight. "What? I can-"

"Go." You exhale deeply once more, slowly glancing up and eyes burning blue. "You need to go."

A growl slips free and then Steve's immediately in the doorway. "Wanda, come on."

Your gaze stays glued to Wanda as she cautiously stands and she smartly walks backwards to the door rather than giving you her back. And the second the door slides shut, you're leaping out of bed and pacing the entirety of the room. Your agitation ends up getting the best of you and you end up ripping your shirt off, thankful that you had been talked into wearing a sports bra underneath.

The walls are opaque, but the second a voice comes over an intercom you're whirling around to glare at the exact spot where everyone is congregated around screens and keeping watch over you. "Y/N, you need to calm down. Your heartbeat is way too fast."

You snarl and a fist flies towards the wall. There's a loud thump, but they put you in a hulk-proof room for a reason. No matter how much strength you have, you won't make a single crack in the glass.

As you pace all around the room, you growl and roar out your agitation.

Fortunately for you, you have a fair amount of control and you never resort to harming yourself. You do, however, tire of pacing and your bed looks all too welcoming. So once you deem it safe enough to let your guard down, you crawl into bed and surround yourself with the various pillows and blankets of your pack.

The following morning when you wake up, Doctor Cho whisks you away for an evaluation to make sure the full moon didn't affect the baby. And once you're given the all clear, Wanda and Sam lure you into the kitchen with a promise of a hearty breakfast.

You're more tired than usual, but you manage to perch on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island, setting your elbow on the island top and setting your chin in the palm of your hand. Wanda starts to slice up some avocados when you notice there's an itch under your skin that's telling you you need to do something, but you aren't sure what. The feeling amps up as the time ticks on by, but before you can get up and start pacing in agitation there's an arm draping around your shoulders.

The familiar scent of Steve overwhelms you and you feel yourself automatically lean towards him. He chuckles. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I wanna snuggle the hell out of you," you mumble. Leaning away from him, you turn on your stool and part your knees, pulling Steve as close to you as possible. "Seriously, just hug me. I need to scent everyone again."

Sam snorts from his spot at the stove and Steve happily obliges you. Your arms wrap around his waist and you lay the side of your face against Steve's chest, a happy rumble slipping free as Steve embraces you back. "I don't know why you're laughing, Wilson. I'm cuddling all of you."

After about five minutes, you let Steve go and you readily drag Wanda into his vacant spot. She laughs, but hugs you back the moment your arms go around her. You shove your face into the side of her neck and you can't resist rubbing your cheek along her shoulders.

Sam ends up getting the same exact treatment right before breakfast is served up and since Natasha isn't really a hugger, she does sit next to you and allows you to at least drape one of your legs over hers underneath the table.

Afterwards, instead of heading back towards the apartment you share with Wanda, you eye Bucky who's sitting on the couch with a book in his right hand. And though he's been perfectly cordial with you since you've been brought in, you knew better than to just approach him out of the blue like you can with Wanda, Sam, and Steve.

Steve chuckles as he sees your hesitance, but he offers you no help in broaching the cuddling topic with his best friend. However, just as you enter Bucky's peripheral, he readily lifts his left arm that had been resting on the armrest. You sigh in relief and crawl in Bucky's lap, sitting sideways and laying your head on his shoulder. His metal arm curls around your back and his hand which he's holding the book settles down atop your knees.

You soak in Bucky's warmth and scent, and before you know it your eyelids get heavier and heavier.

The click of a phone's camera sounds and Bucky glances up to see Wanda pointing her phone at him. "What?" She feigns innocence. "It's adorable."

"She's exhausted," he says. "I'd fall asleep anywhere too if I had to go through what she did."

"I can take her if you want," Wanda says. "Float her on back to our apartment."

"No. It's fine," he's quick to assure her. "I wasn't planning on moving anytime soon anyway."

Wanda nods, hiding her grin as she walks towards the elevator where Steve and Sam are already waiting. Getting in, all three individuals smirk at Bucky cradling a sleeping pregnant werewolf in his lap.

"If she names that pup after Barnes, I'm throwing hands," Sam says.

Wanda laughs. "I don't think she's thinking about naming her child after a man she's only known for a couple of weeks, Sam."

"Well some would think that one would not sleep in the lap of someone they've only known for a couple of weeks, but here we are," Steve then says. "Unless it's a werewolf thing."

Wanda, Steve, and Sam take a moment to think about it before Sam says, "I got twenty that says those two end up hooking up before the baby bump makes itself known."

"What? No way." Wanda shakes her head. "I have twenty that says she's just extra cuddly because she's hormonal and just came down from the full moon."

"Guys," Steve admonishes them. A moment later, he grins. "Twenty says a real attraction grows and those two end up together."

"You're on, Rogers."

Author's Note: So you guys wanna give me baby name suggestions? And gender suggestions?

[krafterwrites]

Crystal Blue Speedster

AKA: Walter and Jesse meet Sonic the Hedgehog, AKA: A joke fic that I put way too much time into

There’s really nothing more to add past what I already said, just click below the cut if you want to read a Breaking Bad and Sonic crossover fic, I guess (Obviously, warning for mentions of drugs and death)

It started off as a day like any other, Walter White and Jesse Pinkman were working away in the superlab on their signature product. It wasn’t the most enjoyable thing in the world, but it earned them plenty of money, so they did it every day anyways. They also did it because they would be killed if they didn’t, so they learned to like it fast

About halfway through their daily grind, a shimmering noise followed by a thud echoed throughout the subterranean compound

“Hey, what was that?” Jesse asked, momentarily stopping the procedure he was in the middle of

“I don’t know,” Walter responded. “Nothing in here would make that kind of noise, which means that whatever’s that came from isn’t supposed to be in here”

“So, are we going to check it out?”

“No, we’re going to ignore the foreign object in our delicate lab and keep working as normal. Of course we’re going to check it out”

Walt stopped his step in the meth making process and walked over to the source of the noise, with Jesse close behind him. In a corner of the lab, which was previously obscured from their vision by all the industrial machinery, laid something that looked blue and spiny

“What on Earth is that?” Walter asked, bewildered both as to what the object was and how it had gotten into this place

Jesse was about as confused as Walt was, but he decided to try and clear up his confusion a little bit by crouching down and poking the mysterious object with his finger

“Don’t touch it! It could be poisoned, or rigged to explode!” Walt told his companion

Ignoring his request, Jesse kept his finger on whatever the blue and spiny thing was, before it suddenly started moving, causing him to recoil back

“Whew, that was one rough trip. At least I finally stopped here, wherever here is,” The blue creature spoke to himself as he stood up

Walter stared at the nearby talking animal in complete shock, looking visibly horrified by what he was witnessing. Jesse’s expression was the same at first, but after a few seconds, it shifted to wonder and excitement

“Wait, hold on, no freaking way,” Jesse stammered. “You’re Sonic the Hedgehog!”

“In the flesh!” The hero said. “And you are?”

Before Jesse could respond, Walt shoved his hand over his mouth and then turned him around so that they were facing each other

“Jesse, why are you talking to that thing, and why is it talking back?” He aggressively whispered

“That’s Sonic the Hedgehog, yo,” Jesse casually responded

“What?”

“Y’know, he goes fast, collects rings, beats up Doctor Eggman and his robots. Everyone knows about him”

“But he’s not real, is he”

“I mean, that’s what I thought too, but he’s standing right there. He looks pretty real to me”

“Look. Jesse. We don’t know what this thing actually is, but it certainly doesn’t belong here, we need to dispose of it before it causes any harm”

“Sonic’s a good guy, man, he’s not going to attack us”

“You’re really going to trust a cartoon rodent over me? After all we’ve been through? His word has more power than mine?”

“I know it’s really weird that he’s real and he just showed up and all, but he hasn’t done anything yet, at least wait a bit before you do anything crazy”

“Fine. Go ahead and talk to that little freak, but don’t blame me if something bad comes out of it”

Jesse took a moment to glare at Walter for his comment about Sonic before moving closer to the hedgehog to talk to him

“So, wow. You’re here, right in front of me,” Jesse said, mostly to himself

“You got it, bud. I was going to ask earlier, but where am I?” Sonic asked

“You’re in, uhh… a place”

“Maybe I should rephrase: What dimension am I in?”

“I dunno man, I thought this was the only one”

“So I’m guessing that means your world doesn’t have anything that allows for inter dimensional travel?”

“Nope”

“Dang, looks like I’m out of luck, then. Wonder how I’m going to get home”

“Wish I could help you out, man. But until then, wanna hang out after I get done with work?”

“Sure, why not”

Jesse began to walk back over to the machinery he was in the process of using before, but Walter stopped him by grabbing him by the neck of his suit and pulling him back

"Jesse," Walt began. "You're not going to cook in front of that thing"

"Oh my god, you're right," Jesse realized. "What would Sonic the Hedgehog think if he saw me making meth? I mean, I think I remember on one of those old shows I watched a long time ago, there was always one of these little PSAs, and-"

"No, I mean that if that thing can talk, it can tell other people about what we're doing down here. And if you bring it above ground, we will have the entire world's attention, which is also going to get us caught"

"So what are we going to do then?"

"What do you think?"

"Wait, no no no. You're not going to kill him, are you?"

"It's the only option that keeps this whole thing from falling apart"

"If Sonic is real, then his home and all his friends must be real too, if you kill him then you're pretty much dooming his whole world. Are you about to doom a whole world just for this business?"

"If it means that I don't get arrested or killed, then I think I'm fine hurting a few rodents"

"Well I'm not fine with it! We'll just find him a home, and then we can get back to all this"

"Jesse, we can't just walk out while we're in the middle of cooking, Gus is- Gus! What is he going to think when he sees this thing down here?"

"I don't know, maybe he'll just be happy to see Sonic the Hedgehog, like a normal person"

"He's not! He's going to get mad at us for letting this thing walk around the lab"

Just then, a harsh breeze swept throughout the lab, blowing over a few small instruments from the table before subsiding

"Sorry, I overheard you say that I was walking, and I just wanted to clarfiy that I prefer running," Sonic said, now up on the catwalk above the drug making duo

"You.. ran, up there?" Walt asked, feeling somewhat strange for asking a question to the blue hedgehog

"Yep! Sorry about some of your stuff, it's hard to control the wind you leave behind when you're running at the speed of sound"

Walter turned to Jesse with a wide eyed look, accepting the previously ludicrous fact that this creature could run so fast because of how he had just seen it for himself

"Jesse, this thing is not only a menace to us, but society as a whole," Walt stated

"He's not a menace, yo, he's just a hedgehog who goes fast. He uses his power for good, so what if he causes a bit of damage on the side?"

"That hedgehog is destroying our machines, we need to kill him, now"

"Yo, Mr. White, you're starting to sound a lot like Dr Eggman"

"What are you saying?"

"Dr Eggman's the bad guy, he makes all these robots and factories and stuff, but Sonic always stops him"

"Are you saying that I'm the same as him?"

"No, but the stuff you're saying sounds like the stuff he says, I thought you might have just yelled 'I hate that hedgehog!' next"

"I do hate that hedgehog!"

"Whoa... Mr White, I think I'm seeing things clearly now. You're like Dr. Eggman, and now Sonic's come here to save me from you"

"Jesse, take a moment and actually think about what you're saying for once"

"No, I did think about it. You and Dr Eggman both work with lots of machines, you both hate Sonic, you're both bald"

"That's enough!"

"You're right, it is. Me and Sonic are getting out of here now"

Ignoring Walter's yells, Jesse walked away from him and up to the catwalk where Sonic was. The blue hero was currently trying to push open one of the heavy doors to the lab, but he was too small to reach the bar and didn't have enough strength to actually push it open

"Oh, hey dude, what's up?" Sonic asked after stopping his fruitless efforts to open the door

"You see that guy down there? I think he's this dimension's version of Dr Eggman," Jesse told him

"You sure? It doesn't look like he has any Badniks with him"

"No, he doesn't make robots, but he's still dangerous. He wants to get rid of you, you gotta stop him before he can do that"

"Ha, like Egghead could ever hurt me without one of his machines in any universe"

Ready to battle against Walter, who was unaware of what was about to happen, Sonic lept up onto the catwalk railing and looked down at him as he stood on the ground floor of the lab

"What are you doing?" Walt asked

"Just scrambling you, Eggman," Sonic said with a smirk

After giving his quip, Sonic lept from the platform's edge and shifted his body so that he was doing a flying kick. Unable to react to such an unexpected action in time, Walter got hit square in the face by one of Sonic's signature red and white sneakers, causing him to fall to the ground in pain

"Agh! You told him to do this, didn't you? You traitor! You won't last a day out there with just him!" Walter yelled from the floor

"I'm not entirely sure what you're talking about, but that guy seems good, so I'm going to make sure that he doesn't get hurt," Sonic said, standing above the prone Walter

Wanting to get at least a little revenge in before he ran off, Walt swiped at one of Sonic's legs with his arm, but the hedgehog was able to dodge this effortly

"Nice try, but a little too slow," He quipped before running back to the catwalk with Jesse

As Walter continued to lay on the floor, now unable to do anything except listen to what was going on, he could hear Jesse and Sonic conversing some more until a loud metal crashing noise erupted from their location. Following this, there was a faint whirring noise, the same noise that the elevator out of the lab made

Jesse had run off with the real Sonic the Hedgehog, who appeared out of nowhere, and Walter was left laying on the tile of the industrial lab. Without his partner, the business would probably fail and he would either get found out or disposed of by Gus. Either way, it was completely over for Walt. At least, that was what he thought until he heard another shimmering sound like the one he had earlier, as well as footsteps heading towards his direction

"Hello, Heisenberg," Eggman said. "Get up off the floor, we've got work to do"

[amjustagirl]

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven. ~ eight.

Wordcount: 2.9k

Summary: Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm

Masterlist link here 

AO3 link here 

Author’s Note: And we’re at the final chapter! Thank you so much for going on this wild ride with me, and I’m rly excited to hear what you guys think - so please, drop me an ask, a note, a comment, anything!!! 

It takes time and effort to rebuild a home wrecked by a storm, and reconstruction efforts aren’t necessarily smooth sailing, especially at the start - after all, he’s still the same Miya Atsumu, arrogant and brash and foulmouthed and hyper focused on volleyball, and they both have baggage from years of regret and pain to work through. But he has determination to spare, and she loves him too much for her own good, so they start from the very foundation and work their way up, step by step, one day at a time. 

‘I’ll kill ya if ya ever hurt her again’, Osamu threatens darkly when she and Atsumu break the news to him. 

‘Go find yer own girl and stop being sweet on my wife damn it! ’ Atsumu growls, but the kiss he presses to her forehead when she smacks the back of his head for being mean to his twin is achingly sweet. 

‘Ugh, soppy. Get yer shit outta my house!’ Osamu scrunches his face in mock disgust. 

Both brothers are surprised when she beats Atsumu at flipping Osamu off. 

Atsumu moves back home (he’s not even going to hide how happy the sound of that makes him), and they mark the occasion by slipping his wedding ring back on his finger and eating take-out pizza on the living room floor. 

Her burly brothers turn up on their doorstep with a glint in their eyes and too much teeth in their smiles, determined to drag Atsumu off for a couple of drinks and what she assumes will be a very unpleasant chat. She’d insisted on patting them down to make sure they’re not packing any knives - ‘what do you take us for, little sis’, they’d protested - but she’s not taking any chances, and begs Osamu to join them, ‘please ‘Samu, I don’t want to be a widow right after I decide not to divorce his ass’, and he agrees despite grumbling that he might as well be Atsumu’s glorified babysitter at this rate. 

She’d woken up in bed the next morning to find the space beside her empty, but the living room crammed full of those four silly men. Atsumu and Osamu share a single futon between them, snoring back to back. There are faint bruises on Atsumu’s cheekbone and telltale scrapes on her own brothers’ knuckles, but otherwise they all seem relatively unscathed. 

She bends over, tracing her thumb along the contour of Atsumu’s jaw, and he stirs, eyes half lidded with sleep. 

‘Hey darlin', I’ve come home’, he tells her, warmth flickering in his smile. 

‘Welcome home, 'Tsumu’, she says, tucking the blanket under his chin and he hums in contentment, falling back asleep. 

His nightmares of brown envelopes and harsh neon lights distorting her face slowly fade, and he dreams instead of weeknight dinners and weekend picnics at the park, relishing the quiet domesticity of grocery trips and laundry loads, and delighting in home games with her and Shino cheering him on.

Some piss poor excuse of a gossip hound corners him after a match to ask him about whether he regrets leaving for Milan since his season ended in injury - and he freezes when the reporter slyly adds ‘especially since we all knew it’s a move that required you to leave your wife and daughter behind ‘. His manager is about to intervene when she sneaks up on him to slide an arm around his waist, apologising to the reporter that ‘she’s just so excited to give her husband a congratulatory kiss!’ . 

Sakusa and Meian have to join forces to pull Atsumu back from punching the reporter when he grins shark-like, thinking he’s spotted easy prey and asks her whether she felt abandoned in Japan due to his move - ‘pardon me Miya-san for my unwieldy choice of words’. 

‘Not at all’, she says without missing a beat, and Atsumu wonders if he imagines the flash of a knife in her smile. ‘I’ve always supported my husband in all his endeavours. It was a joint decision that I should stay in Japan to ensure our daughter has some stability in her life.'

‘She’s good’, his manager tells him when the reporter slinks away with his tail between his legs. 

‘Yeah - I don’t deserve her’, he answers with a rueful smile. 

When he tries to thank her that night, she levels him with a look that could knock a grown man (i.e. him) off his feet, but her voice is gentle and her words are soft. 

‘Don’t thank me’, she says. ‘Just be a better husband and father, ok?’ 

He’s not ashamed to admit that he actually cries. 

He learns to tell her he loves her at least once a day. She starts to smile back cheekily and reply ‘of course’. 

The game is in between sets when the skin at the back of his neck crackles with nerves. From the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of Osamu sprinting right into the stands. Then his ears pick up on his little girl’s scream - ‘mama’  she cries, her shrill voice ringing above the confusion rippling through the crowd and his legs move of their own accord, leaping over the barrier into the audience, as he snarls and shoves his way to her usual spot. 

He thought he’s had his fill of nightmares to last him a lifetime. He’s evidently wrong. 

She lies crumpled on the ground, head resting on Osamu’s lap. Her lips are pale and her eyes are closed but thank god - thank whichever deity’s listening - her chest still moves with her breath. He’s not quite sure what happens next - he knows he dives to his knees and pulls her towards him but everything else is a blur until her eyes flutter open and she groans. 

‘Darlin’, can ya hear me? Can ya tell me where you are?’ he asks, forcing his voice to remain calm. 

‘Tsumu? Why are you here? Aren’t you in the middle of a game?’ she murmurs, confused. 

‘Fuck the game’, he snaps. ‘Are ya feelin' ok?’ 

‘Something hurts, Tsumu’, she rasps, eyes glazing over. He can feel the chill of ice seep into his spine. 

'Yer fine, yer fine, yer going to be fine' he mutters, over and over and over again, willing her to sit up and tell him she's fine, she's ok, she'll just shake it off - but light starts to shutter out of her eyes and frost creeps up his throat. 

‘I need a medic!’ he shouts, voice cracking on every word. ‘I need a medic, now!’

‘Tsumu’, he hears his brother interrupt urgently. ‘Tsumu, she’s bleedin’. 

He’s never been more grateful for Osamu when his twin turns to yell for an ambulance and yanks Shino away with him. The little girl is kicking and screaming for her mama but he knows she would kill him if he lets their little girl be traumatised from seeing her mama lying in a pool of blood on the floor. 

He can’t breathe - not even when the medics finally come and whisk her off to the hospital, his mind hardly able to process anything, terror still coursing through his veins when the doctors press brown envelopes full of forms into his bloodstained hands for him to sign so the relevant procedures can be carried out. 

‘Don’t!’ Osamu says sharply, when he drops his head into his hands and starts to whimper about how he’ll die if he loses her again and what the fuck is he gonna do, ‘Samu, if she doesn’t make it out alive – ‘she’s stronger than ya think, don’t ya dare give up on her like that’, and he promptly shuts up after that. Time in the waiting room passes agonizingly slow, seconds feeling like minutes, minutes stretching into hours, and he would have drowned from the weight of his despair if he weren’t anchored in place by his twin’s hand on his back.

His breath rushes back into his lungs when the doctors later tell him she’s fine,  they carried out the standard operation - but she doesn’t look fine, doesn’t seem fine, is very clearly not fine when they wheel her out, huddled into a ball with her head between her knees, like her world has just collapsed into itself. She doesn’t even look up when he sits beside her, the bed dipping under his weight. 

‘I’m sorry’, she eventually says, voice barely a whisper, and he fights the urge to break down into tears – because ‘Samu’s right, she’s so much stronger than he thinks. They'd been talking about trying for a sibling for Shino for some time now, since they've both grown up with brothers of their own and can't imagine life without them. But the doctors tell him that it’s just bad luck - the baby was never going to survive, and her collapse was probably exacerbated by stress, overwork, perhaps even fatigue from her skipping lunch for work and dinner to rush to his match.

‘Don’t be. It’s not yer fault at all’, he manages to pull himself together to reassure her, but she just stares blankly at the wall. 

His grandmother calls when they find out the baby they lost would have been a boy, and he fails her again when he’s too late to snatch the phone away before the old lady’s poison drips into her ears and traps her in a deadly fog. He’d cursed the old bitch out relentlessly, but the toxic words fester beneath her skin and she fades into a ghost before his eyes. He desperately tries to stop her spiral into frozen silence, but he’s away for games more than half the time, hands tied behind his back by the stranglehold of contracts and commitments he has no choice but to fulfil. 

He’s never been so thankful before when the season finally ends - but he is, at least this time, so he can talk her into taking two weeks off from work. They drop Shino off with her indulgent grandparents, and drift down the coast on the back of her bike. She doesn’t try breaking any speed limits - and he knows he should be happy about that, but there’s no spark in her eyes, no smile to answer the wind - there hasn’t been, not since she collapsed. 

(not since they lost their child)

He buys her mochi at every town, but she picks at it listlessly, just like she does these days when Osamu tries to tempt her with his latest creations. He insists they stay at  ryokans, traditional inns with onsens attached, hoping the heat from the water might chase the chill from her bones, but colour does not return to her cheeks. There are shadows beneath her eyes, and she seems to wilt under the vibrant red and gold of autumn leaves. 

They go for a walk after dinner one night, tracing a path along the shore. He’d been talking non-stop the entire trip to mask the gaps left by her silence, but tonight he falls quiet, allowing the hum of the waves to wash over them. Her hand is cold in his, so he wraps his jacket around her shoulders and hopes the warmth from his body bleeds into hers. 

She comes to a standstill, feet sinking in the sand, and tilts her head to face him. 

‘Tsumu?’, she breathes, a question in her eyes. 

‘I’m here’, he says, a prayer in his heart. 

There is a lighthouse on the cliff just a few miles ahead, illuminating the shadows of the waves. The faintest reflection of light pools in her eyes, and he stills as she lifts her gaze to meet his. 

‘I know’, she says, offering him the smallest of smiles. 

He interlaces their fingers together firmly, and tugs her towards shelter, as a storm brews over the horizon. 

That night she tucks her head under his chin, and he holds her until she falls asleep, cradled in his arms. He keeps slumber at bay by counting her breaths, and only falls asleep himself when the storm breaks. 

'Why did I wake up to a blonde octopus wrapped around me', she mumbles, voice heavy with sleep. 

'Nah. More like a seahorse, cos I'm not letting ya go, sweetheart', he replies, tightening his grip on her waist. 'Ya got a problem with that?' 

Her only response is to burrow herself deeper into his chest.

'Guess not', he chuckles fondly, nuzzling his nose into her hair, hope blossoming anew in his heart. 

Time turns their wounds into scars and they heal together, one breath at a time. 

She stays away from their first few matches when the season begins again. The press is coerced into passing over reports of her collapse by the dual forces of the MSBY press machine and their legal team, but they are forced to ride out the gossip generated in internet forums by a fringe group of deranged fans. His teammates treat her like she’s made of glass - even Bokuto dials himself down a notch, all save for Shoyo, who slips her his mother’s number, telling her gently that the six year gap between him and Natsu wasn’t deliberate, and that she would find a sympathetic ear in the older woman. 

He knew he was right to anoint Shoyo as his favourite wing spiker - not only does he fly high enough to answer the demand of every single one of his sets, but his sunniness drags her out of the fog into yoga classes and meditation practices, and slowly but surely he watches her bloom again. It’s a powerful combination - Shoyo-kun’s friendship and his mother’s gentle conversations, Osamu’s cooking and her love for Shino, capped with his determination to show her he loves her and prove that he’s here to stay.

‘It’s like Kintsugi’, she tells him, with a wide smile. ‘All of you poured gold into the cracks of my heart and made me whole again’. 

The years pass. 

Shino turns seven – a very respectable age for his very best girl, he tells her (I'm your only girl, Papa, Shino informs him archly), and obliges her demands of a bicycle in MSBY colours and volleyball lessons, forcing all his teammates to turn up for her birthday party, volleyball themed of course. The look of unadulterated joy on his princess’ face is worth every ounce of effort to put up with Sakusa’s complaints at having to turn up for a kiddie party full of loud noises and far too much candy, and the sweaty afternoons spent hand painting the bicycle black and gold. 

The day Atsumu discovers his first white hair makes her thank her lucky stars that she’s immune to his nonsense by now, because the wailing and gnashing of teeth she has to put up with makes ‘Samu offer her his couch as refuge. She slaps tape and salonpas on his aches and pains, and points to the deepening lines on her face when he complains about his age. 

‘Those lines aren’t wrinkles. If they’re caused by laughter, it doesn’t count’, he reasons laughingly. She’s left befuddled by his logic and shakes her head.

Meian Shugo retires, and Hinata throws a party to celebrate in his honour, cramming the entire MSBY team and assorted friends into his penthouse apartment on a rainy Saturday night. Osamu’s hired to cater the food but remains as a guest, shooting a smirk at him when Shoyo drags her off to dance during his favourite song, twin flames burning bright in the night. 

‘A hundred yen for your thoughts?’ she asks, when Shoyo returns with her breathless but wreathed with smiles. 

‘Was just wondering when you were gonna save a dance for this old man’, he teases. 

‘Oh?’ she says with a laugh. ‘Thought you said your back hurt, and you didn’t want to move?’

‘Meh - I was hoping you’d forget that’, he says airily, then frowns when he notices there’s no drink in her hand. 

‘Not drinking tonight, sweetheart?’, he asks, curling his fingers around her empty hand. 

‘The doctor warned me not too’, she answers, her smile growing impossibly wider. He blinks in confusion when she leans on to her toes to whisper into his ear - then oh. 

‘You’re pregnant?’ he repeats, unable to trust his ears, eyes filling with tears when she bites her lips and nods. 

‘Are you happy, ‘Tsumu?’, she asks, her face alight with hope. 

There is so much he wants to say to her, starting with thank you loving me enough to give me another chance all those years ago and ending with I love you, so ridiculously much – because he can never say it enough, she’s given him more than he deserves – her heart, Shino, a happy home and now the promise of another child. 

But there's salt and water welling up in his throat, and it’s all he can do to choke out a shaky ‘of course’, before gathering her in his arms, warmth pooling in his eyes, love overflowing in his heart. 

They stay that way for most of the night, entwined in each other’s arms, so drunk on happiness and love and warmth that they don’t even notice the storm clearing and the moon rising in the clear night sky. 

[milchig-de]

Never gonna give you up

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader 

Summary: After being kidnapped by the League of Villains and meeting you, Bakugou thinks about you. But then you meet again. Will he let you go again?

Request:  Hi! I saw requests were open, could you please write a scenario for Bakugou, where during his time kidnapped by the lov, they had another captive. A girl who is his age, but she has been there for a few months. The reason why she is there is because of her quirk. Her blood can heal others, all they need to do is drink some of it, the bigger the injury the more blood. They are saved together but then separated. It’s been two years of no contact when Bakugou goes to recovery girl to find the same girl who was a captive now learning under recovery girl. They hit it off.

Warnings: curse words

Notes: Did I change my story just to fit the title? Yes, absolutely. Also this was requested by @jessie4098​, hope you enjoy! Sorry again for taking so long!

Bakugou struggled against the bonds that were tying him to the chair. After kidnapping him, the League of Villains had encased his hands in a metal box so he couldn’t activate his quirk. Of course that did nothing to quell his anger. If they dared come close to him he would knock them out if anyhow possible.

But since he couldn’t do anything right now, he took in his surroundings instead. Their hideout was in some sort of bar- one of them, the warp villain from the attack at the USJ, even wiped the glasses with a rug. There was only one door and no windows, so he couldn’t tell what time it was or where he was. 

Obviously he already knew the warp villain and the hands villain but there were some new faces. The scar face that had pulled him through the portal stood in a corner, a lizard-human next to him. In another corner was the masked villain that had managed to capture him with someone in a full bodysuit next to him. Surprisingly, there was also a middle school girl there. Had they kidnapped her? It certainly didn’t look like it. Otherwise she would also be tied up. 

Suddenly that girl moved towards- and past him, towards another chair that he hadn’t noticed before. Another person sat slumped down in that chair, tied up in a similar fashion as him. The girl tugged on the persons arm, in an almost whiny manner.

“Hey there, sweetheart!! I got hurt pretty badly in the fight so it sems that I have to take some of your blood again!!”

The person didn’t respond. Ignoring that, the girl brandished a knife and cut their arm. Then she proceeded to lift their arm up to her mouth and... drank it? What kind of sick shitshow was this? Looking at them closely, Bakugou noticed the countless cuts and band aids all over their arms. It seemed that they did this regularly. Maybe they had some kind of quirk that required her to drink their blood? The crazy girl did say that she got hurt... Even though there were no visible injuries on her bodies.

Putting their arm down, the crazy girl strolled back to her original place. With the other person there, Bakugou would have to be more careful with blasting those stupid villains away. They didn’t look like they knew how to fight and they certainly weren’t in any condition to do so even if they could. If, you know, their slumped form was any indicator.

After the crazy girl had settled back down, the hands villain started to talk. He spouted some stupid bullshit about joining the League of Villains. As if Bakugou would ever become a villain. He was determined to beat All Might and to become the number one pro hero and he was not willing to let go of any of his goals. 

That was why as soon as the bodysuit took off his bonds he got ready to blast all of them away. Shuffling closer to you, he carefully took of your bonds too and then stood in front of you to protect you. But then the heroes barged in and they got sucked away in one of the slimy portals. He grasped your arm but the portals forced him to let go. Before the fight between All Might and All for One, he got rescued by the others, but he doesn’t know what happened to the person. They weren’t on the battlefield like the villains so he desperately hoped that the heroes saved them. Sometimes, late at night when a nightmare of that time wakes him up, he thinks about them. Regrets of not being able to grasp them and bring them with him to safety plague him occasionally. 

But why is he thinking about them now anyway? There wasn’t really a lot he could’ve done about them and it’s been two years since then already. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to give up on you.

Bakugou shakes his head, hoping to get rid of those stupid thoughts. He got hurt while sparring with Kirishima, so he’s now on his way to Recovery Girl to get fixed up. Taking a deep breath to calm himself down, he opens the door to the station. 

That isn’t Recovery Girl. 

Standing in the middle of the room is a person that looks eerily similar to the one that also got kidnapped by the League of Villains. 

Upon hearing the door open, you turn your head only to discover Bakugou standing there. To be honest, you had never met officially, but you’d be a fool not to at least know his name. For one, he’s one of the most successful students in all of UA, but he’s also that boy who stood up to the villains.

When you got kidnapped, you were barely conscious half of the time because of blood loss, but you do remember him. How could you not? He was so brave, standing up to them as if he was saying that he would win no matter what. You had to admit you hadn’t seen his features properly at the time, so you only remembered his blonde, spiky hair and his angry posture, but you had figured out who he is because of the news fairly easily. Funnily enough, they barely mentioned you, but you don’t mind at all. It allowed you to live a fairly calm life without having to worry about anyone recognizing you.

Now that he’s standing right in front of you, you allow yourself a moment to check him out. He still has his spiky blonde hair and even if he’s simply standing there, you do notice that he still has a slightly angry body language. Besides that, you also notice his ruby red eyes staring at you.

While you do admire him and think he’s hot quite a lot, you also have a job to do, so you point to one of the beds standing in the station and tell him to sit down. A first glance tells you he isn’t that badly injured, meaning alcohol and some bandages would probably be enough. Preparing everything, you put it aside before asking him about his condition. 

This is the first time you heard him talk since then. His voice sounds a little gravelly, though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. Shoving those thoughts aside, you focus on the cuts he shows you. Most of them aren’t bad at all, but some of them look pretty bad. Though you realize upon closer inspection that they’re is still only on the surface and doesn’t even require stitching. So you carefully clean and disinfect his wounds before putting band-aids or bandages over them. You try your best not to smile, since the band aids you used had pink Hello Kitty motives on them. They are the courtesy of Recovery Girl, who decided to only use those ones as a sort of punishment, since a lot of students are pretty reckless and don’t care whether they get hurt. 

Bakugou stays very calm during the entire procedure, not even flinching at the pain from the alcohol. You wonder if he remembers who you are, considering he didn’t mention or do anything that makes you assume otherwise. But perhaps he just doesn’t know how to approach it. Frankly you can’t blame him for it. It’s not exactly the easiest subject to talk about.

After finishing him up, you pull out a document and a pen, explaining to Bakugou that you need to record every student you treat because you’re only an apprentice so far. You already jotted down his name, so instead you asked for his class and noted his injuries and what you used to treat him.

Closing your pen you give him some last advice. Dismissing him, you put the document in its rightful place before going back to cleaning equipment. Of course you want to talk to him about well, everything, but how can you possibly ask him to spend time with someone he barely knows? 

But then he brings up the topic.

“Are you the one who was also kidnapped by the League of Villains?”

Well that’s pretty direct. Instead of leaving as you had told him he could, he only stood up. He turns towards you, clearly expecting an answer. So you clear your throat and confirm his suspicions. Upon hearing this, he stalks closer to you.

“Do you have time right now? There’s some things I want to know.”

“I actually don’t have time right now, since I’m, you know, doing my job. Recovery Girl deserves a break so because I am fairly capable already, I took over for today which means I need to be available at all times. But-”

You walked back over to the desk, then you pulled out a small piece of paper and a pen. Scribbling your number and name down, you folded it and gave it to him. 

“Here’s my number so we can meet up or just text if you prefer that.”

Taking the paper from you, he nodded and walked out of the station, though not without saying thank you.

Once outside, Bakugou finally allows himself to relax. He was so tense the entire time he was talking to you. It was difficult because he didn’t know how to approach you about it but also because you’re very pretty. A tiny smile wormed itself onto his face when he thought about you. He clutched your note a little tighter in his grasp, afraid of letting you slip through his fingers again. 

Maybe it’s good that he didn’t give up on you.

[whattimeisitintokyo]

Snip Snip

This is a one shot/sequel to @pengychan​ ‘s Mind the Gap that I had brewing in my head for sometime. 100% Pengy approved, I hope you enjoy some silliness.

WARNING: Has some language, sexual descriptions and deals with a M/M/F relationship. Also you should really read Pengy’s fic before you read mine.

----

-----

“Señor De la Cruz? The doctor will see you in about five minutes.”

“Never mind. I’m leaving.”

“No—nngh! No! Sit-… down!”

With a none to gentle shove and with great effort Héctor managed to pull Ernesto back down into the waiting room seat. The crashing of a heavy body and screeching of the plastic chair led to a disgruntled brow raise from the receptionist, but she just sighed and returned to her computer work. Ernesto grumbled to himself and crossed his arms with a glare.

“This was your idea, amigo.” Héctor whispered, not wanting to agitate the lady behind the counter even more.

“Exactly, which is why I should be allowed to change my mind.” Ernesto said, pouting as he looked down at his groin. “You don’t understand. I’ve spent my- no wait, every man has spent their whole lives protecting their manhood with gentle care and affection. It is a sense of pride, of thing of power. Potency! It’s what makes a man a man. To get a vasectomy goes against everything I believe in. It’s not in my nature.”

“Aw, Ernesto…” Héctor gripped Ernesto’s arm and squeezed comfortingly. “We’ve talked about this. You’ll still be a man. Imelda and I won’t think any less of you. In fact we’re both extremely proud of you for doing this.”

“Oh shut up.”

“How about this. Once you have the operation, get all healed up and are ready for some action, then…” Pausing to check to see if the receptionist was watching them. “Then you get to go to town on Imelda. No more condoms, just skin to skin. You thrusting deep inside of her while she screams your name, coming together in one rush of pure ecstasy.”

If it weren’t for his nerves and the flight-or-fight struggle going on inside of him now Ernesto would have been fully erect by Héctor’s words alone. Not an ideal situation to be in when one was in a urologist’s office and about to be fully nude from the waist down. Still his cheeks gave a slight flush and he swallowed thickly. “And, uh… what will you be doing while I’m with her?”

“Me?” Héctor chuckled huskily. “Why I’ll be right behind you. Just how you like it.”

Ernesto gasped softly. An Ernesto sandwich, his favorite. A sandwich was something Imelda had come up with that always depended on who was in the middle of their combined lovemaking, a silly little thing hardly compared to how fucking awesome it really was. Penetration and getting penetrated, two forms of stimulation all at once that left one howling in pleasure to the heavens and beyond. Ernesto’s face went full red at that and could already feel the tingle of arousal pooling in his stomach and creeping down into his groin. This was bad. He couldn’t get hard now. He had to think of something to cool down. Something to stop the progression of his-

“Alright, Señor. The doctor will see you now.”

‘That’ll do it.’ Ernesto thought as all thoughts of sex had switched back to nauseating terror.

“Ay, puta madre.” Ernesto whispered and stood up with Héctor. He started to actually tremble when they went through the door, Héctor’s hand on his shoulder failing to stop it. “Shit, shit, shit…”

“Uy, you’re so tense.” Héctor said, now a little worried. “You took your Valium pill almost an hour ago. It didn’t calm you down even a little bit?”

“Do I look calm?!” Ernesto whispered harshly.

No, Héctor had to admit. In the last half hour in the waiting room Ernesto had done anything but relax. He had stood up and sat down multiple times, paced the room, gotten a cup of stale coffee, and had picked up every single magazine that they had, read exactly one page of each, and had thrown it back down onto the table. Héctor believed that if he hadn’t had any Valium in his system right now then there would have been an Ernesto shaped hole busted through the wall of the receptionist office.

“Well they’re gonna give you something stronger once we’re in the room.”

“It won’t work. I know it won’t work.”

“How?”

“Héctor you know me.” Ernesto said, the trembling now reaching his voice. “I have a very strong constitution. Alcohol barely phases me, I need an extraordinary amount of caffeine to really wake up. That valium might as well have been an aspirin. I’m telling you there is nothing in the world that’ll calm me down at this point!”

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

Apparently that nothing had been a Demerol shot to the ass by an elderly nurse.

Héctor cursed the person who had made up the stupid rule that no cell phones or cameras were to be allowed in the doctor’s office. For this was a golden moment that would soon exist only in his memories. And maybe even only his memories because Ernesto himself was just a touch out of it. There he was, laying on the reclined operating chair in a hospital gown with his bare waist covered by a thin paper sheet. Singing baby songs.

“Quince elefantes se balanceaban sobre la tela de una araaaañaaa…” Ernesto sang drowsily while he languidly twirled his finger in the air like a conductor’s baton.

He had slowly but surely diminished over the past half hour, starting with the sluggish shaking of his head as the drugs started to paint his brain with a slight fog. Then came the slow blinking and the monotone, droning humming. Then finally to this: awake sedation as the doctors called it. To Héctor though it was pure hilarity.

Suddenly Ernesto stopped singing and his brow furrowed in thought. “You know they say that a strand of a spider’s web can be tougher than steel.”

Héctor nodded. “I’m sure I’ve heard that somewhere.”

“I don’t think a spider web can hold fifteen elephants, though.”

“No.”

“Then why would they make a song about something that is physically impossible?”

Héctor laughed. “It’s just a song to teach babies how to count, Ernesto.”

“Well it’s doing a very poor job about teaching them physics.” Ernesto huffed. “When we make it big we should do some kiddy songs, sí? Public domain stuff. That’s free money right there. Quince elefantes se balanceaban-.”

“Ernesto.” Héctor clapped a hand across Ernesto’s mouth, stifling a grin when it seemed to take a few seconds before the drugged man realized his song had been silenced. When Ernesto glared up at him he continued. “You’ve said quince elefantes five times now. You aren’t adding anymore elephants.”

This seemed to be news to Ernesto, and when Héctor removed his hand he actually looked downright embarrassed and ashamed. “Oh… I’m sorry.”

Yes, drugged Ernesto was hilarious alright. Also endearing and adorable.

“It’s okay, I forgive you.” Héctor said with a smile, and then bent over to give him a kiss on the forehead.

Ernesto hummed in contentment, a faint red on his cheeks as he suddenly looked bashful. “Someone could have come in when you did that, you know.”

“But they didn’t.”

“The room could have a security camera.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Oh, okay… Then…” Ernesto pouted and pointed to his forehead on the same spot. “Uno mas.”

Héctor happily obliged, and no sooner had he leant back from the kiss when the door opened. It was enough to make Héctor’s heart seize a little bit before forcing himself to relax. He hadn’t seen, it was alright. Ernesto just smiled wobbly and waved at the doctor coming in.

“Well, Señor de la Cruz!” the doctor said cheerfully as he set down his clipboard and began to slip on his gloves. “It’s been a little while now. How are we feeling after the Demerol shot?”

“Philosophical.” Ernesto proclaimed grandly, nearly smacking Héctor in the face as he threw out his hand in a dramatic pose. “Young Héctor and I have been discussing the fallacies of nursery rhymes and how they are negatively impacting a child’s learning structure.”

The doctor blinked at that, before giving Ernesto an indulgent smile. “Ohh, so I see. Yep, the medicine is in full effect.” Looking over at Héctor his smile seemed to falter a bit. “You know I usually see wives, girlfriends and even mothers come in to offer support, but rarely male friends.”

Héctor chuckled. “Well I think if his mamá realized that he would be cutting off any chance of her having grandchildren she would explode into a flood of tears. And besides, my wife and I would like to have more kids in the future, but I also might one day want to have a vasectomy. What better time to weigh my options than with my best friend, you know? See what it all entails.”

“I understand.” With a snap of his glove and turning on the overhead light to illuminate Ernesto’s crotch, he moved his tray of surgical equipment towards him. “All right then. Shall we begin?”

With a slight whimper Ernesto held out his hand for Héctor to hold. “You won’t let go at all, right?”

Seeing Ernesto so vulnerable and adorable melted Héctor’s heart, and he wished that Imelda had been there with him to witness Ernesto being so cute. He clutched Ernesto’s hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “I won’t. Don’t worry amigo, this is a perfectly normal procedure. Nothing to worry about at all.”

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

With Coco laid down for her afternoon nap, all the dogs and Pepita fed and watered, and no shoe orders to work on at the moment Imelda was enjoying some private time to herself curled onto the sofa, watching TV and drinking a nice cup of coffee. She knew this momentary bit of peace wouldn’t last.

Soon Héctor and Ernesto would be back from the doctor’s office and Imelda would be ready for them. She already had stocked up on acetaminophen and had several cold packs in the freezer for when they would be needed. She had even stocked up on Ernesto’s favorite soda, or at least one he tolerated when he wasn’t able to drink beer or other liquors.

She was very proud of Ernesto for bringing up the idea of getting a vasectomy for himself, and even prouder when he had set up the appointment all by himself and left for it this morning with Héctor. She knew he was nervous, heck she was nervous about it too, but she also knew that Ernesto was a man who once he set his mind on something there was no turning back. It was one of the things that she loved about him, even though it sometimes aggravated her.

Loved.

It was so weird thinking that now, even though she knew it was true. Although she was still deeply in love with Héctor and he was in love with her, the end of their sexual arrangement with Ernesto did not make their feelings for him disappear like she thought it would. In fact it only strengthened them. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say.

And in the end the only thing it succeeded in doing was completely breaking Ernesto’s heart and left him wanting for almost a year. She was ashamed of herself but there was no way she could have foreseen what would come of the night she had slapped that strap-on in front of Ernesto. She had no idea that she would have two men holding a third of her heart while she held a third of theirs.

But it was fine now. For how long she didn’t know. But they would just take it one day at a time.

When she heard the door knock she blew out a sigh and set her coffee mug down. Dante and Ernesto’s four little chihuahuas immediately ran to the door in their room where they were currently shut up in, but thankfully for once they didn’t yip or bark. Just whined pitifully and slightly scratched the door. But they would have to wait until she got Ernesto set up on the couch and was safely protected from them.

Opening the door, she greeted them with a smile. “Well, how did it… go?...”

Ernesto was standing there, straight and tall as ever, an annoyed pout on his face while with one arm wrapped around him was Héctor. Trembling slightly and his face the color of putty, Héctor pointed a shaking finger to Imelda. “We… are stocking up on condoms. Either that or we’ll have a dozen kids. But I am never… going to get one of those… things ever! Never ever!”

Imelda was shocked. “Dios mio! What on Earth happened? Ernesto, did you get the vasectomy or not?”

Handing Imelda a pamphlet with his free hand, Ernesto nodded. “Yeah, I got it. Surgery was short and went without a hitch. Here’s the aftercare treatment plan he gave me. No, the real problem was Princess Héctor right here. Fainted like a dainty maid after the doctor held up my sperm tube for us to see. I know it has another name, but I forget and don’t care.”

“Fainted!” Imelda gasped. “Are you all right? Did you hit your head?”

“No, but he did throw up.” Ernesto smirked.

“Don’t remind me.” Héctor groaned, holding his stomach and struggling to support himself. “I’ve been nauseous the whole ride back. I need to see something cute. Something pure. I need to see my Coco. Coco, my love, Papá is coming!”

“Do not wake her up Héctor, I just put her down twenty minutes ago!” Imelda called out to Héctor’s retreating form. “And don’t let the dogs out of the other room either!”

“Ay, ay ay ay…”

At the sound of pain, Imelda’s attention turned to Ernesto. He was hunched slightly against the doorframe, his eyes closed tight and face pinched. “Oh, I’m so sorry Ernesto. Héctor distracted me. Are you in a lot of pain?”

“Just tender more than painful.” Ernesto grunted out. “Though it might hurt more after the anesthetic wears off. No, what really hurts is my hand. Héctor crushed the hell out of it during the whole surgery! I regret ever asking him to hold it in the first place! It’s not like my whole livelihood rests in the full use of my hands…”

“You’d still have your voice.” Imelda smiled. “And your so-called good looks.”

“Whatever… can you help me to the couch? I- nng!-… think I reached my limit helping Héctor.”

Ah, so he was in pain. Taking hold of Ernesto’s large arm she helped him slowly shuffle his way around the couch. “He was supposed to be helping you.” She chastised.

“Well he was pretty much useless afterwards.”

“You could have hurt yourself. You shouldn’t be lifting heavy objects.”

Ernesto smiled. “Well look on the bright side. If one of my cajones swells up like a grapefruit then he can pay for my medical bills.”

“Mmm hmm.” Imelda couldn’t help by snicker a little at that. “Okay, let’s sit you down. Okay, easy. Easy…”

Slowly Ernesto sat down on the couch, letting Imelda support him as he slowly eased his way down. With a pained grunt and then a sigh of relief he let his head fall back against the headrest and let his knees spread enough to the point where there was no pain, the sweatpants he was wearing lifting away from the sensitive area. He closed his eyes for a few moments, listening to Imelda bustling through the kitchen quietly, before a soft ahem made him open them again.

Imelda handed him a glass of water and two white pills, then placed a frozen ice pack next to him on the couch. Taking the pills without complaint and downing half the glass of water, he then took the ice pack and ever so gently molded it against his sore nether regions. Gasping softly at the cold at first he then sighed in relief as the coolness soothed the aches and pains, smiling gratefully up at Imelda. “Gracias.”

“De nada.” Imelda said before sitting down next to him, careful not to jostle him too much. “So, the vasectomy was a success?”

Ernesto nodded. “Yep, my cannon is now just a water gun: I may be shooting blanks, but I can still squirt you in the eye.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Oh am I?”

“Hmm…” Imelda leant against her arm that was resting on the back of the couch, relieved that the pain seemed to be slowly fading from Ernesto’s features. She smiled a little, watching him until he looked over her way with a question on his face. “I’m proud of you, you know.”

Shifting a little uncomfortably, he gave her a smug look that used to infuriate her but now knew was just a mask to cover up his own insecurities. “You’re going to have to be more specific. I have done many things in my life you should be proud of.”

“Oh, of course.” Imelda tittered, then rested a hand on his arm. “No I’m proud that you did this. It would have been… hard to explain to others if I gave birth to a child that looked like you… I know you don’t necessarily like children and wouldn’t want one to begin with, but it was still a big decision to make. It couldn’t have been easy-”

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes to stay with you two… Whatever it takes…”

This startled Imelda. Ernesto’s face had darkened considerably when he had said that, but his eyes displayed the same misery she had seen during the year where Ernesto had been separated from them. Because of her. She had been acting on her motherly instincts when she had found out that she was pregnant with Coco, surely a threesome between her parents and her godfather would end badly for her once it would be discovered. And it had only been about sex at the beginning and one-upping each other in terms of sexual prowess when it came to Héctor.

But love had grown first in Ernesto. And then in her and Héctor. All the separation had done was make them all miserable. It was no one else’s concern what they did behind closed doors, and they would raise Coco and their potential children to have open minds and kind hearts.

Ernesto’s eyes cleared and his face reddened in embarrassment as he quickly tried to back pedal. “Oh, uh… Forget I said that. I guess I’m still a little high from the drugs the nurse gave me. They always make me a bit chatty.”

Leaning forward, she wove her fingers into Ernesto’s wavy hair and smiled. “Well I wouldn’t worry. Like it or not you’re stuck with us for life.” And then she gave him a kiss on the forehead, not knowing it was in the exact same spot that Héctor had given him hours earlier. Ernesto touched where she had kissed him, face even redder, and smiled back.

Standing up from the couch, Imelda handed him the TV remote and brushed herself down in a way to calm her own nerves. “Well all right then. Don’t leave that ice pack on for too long. Just do it twenty minutes every hour. Would you like a soda?”

“I’d prefer a beer.”

“Not with medicine still in your system.”

“I also want to see my dogs.”

“I’m sorry, do you want four bony and dense cannonballs jumping directly onto your crotch?”

“…No…”

“Didn’t think so. I’ll get you some soda and chips before I have to rescue Coco from her father. Just holler if you need anything else.”

Watching her walk into the kitchen Ernesto settled further into the couch with a grin. The ache in his groin was lessening, he was now and forever barren, Imelda was pampering him, and he’d seen Héctor make a total fool out of himself today.

“This is nice.” Ernesto said to himself as he turned on the TV. “I should have gotten a vasectomy years ago!”

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

“And this is from his concert last month in Guadalajara! Signed photographs! Isn’t he handsome? My precious boy! He told me that they were charging 1000 pesos for one foto and they were selling like crazy! But he sent me a stack so that I could share them with my friends. And so I was wondering if you would like one too, Maricarmen?”

Maricarmen stopped stacking a pyramid of oranges long enough to glance at the photograph in Señora Adela de la Cruz’s hands. Ernesto was handsome all right: Dressed in a fine royal blue mariachi suit with a wide brimmed sombrero, grinning with pure machismo and his name signed in gold ink. But the sight of him didn’t melt her insides like it would other girls who glanced at his rugged features. It never did, really. Now just looking at him made her… anxious.

“I think I’ll pass Adela, but gracias anyway.”

Adela’s smile faded and she had that pitying, patronizing look that so many other people gave her that made her so mad but unable to defend herself against. “Are you still upset because Ernesto left all those years ago?”

“…I’m not… upset, but-.”

“Because it was my fault really! Ernesto left because of what I and his father did to him, we betrayed his trust and hurt him deeply. But finally we’ve patched things up and everything is right as rain again. He even visits us again, my precious boy! I know that you and he were good friends-”

Friends…

“-but every time he visits you never come over. Are you upset with him? Are you upset that he’s…” Adela paused, looked around to see if anyone else was listening in on their conversation, and whispered none too quietly, “…gay?”

Shocked into a sputtering snort Maricarmen managed to knock down her carefully made orange pyramid all over her fruit stall and onto the ground. Rolling her eyes she bent down to pick up the fallen fruit, shaking her head. “No, I’m not upset about that.” She said, not at all wanting to explain to the older woman what bisexuality was.

“I know you had some feelings for him.”

“… No offense, Dona, but the only feelings I had for him were tolerance but mostly annoyance.”

“Then what is it?”

“Mamá!”

The uncomfortable conversation was finally over with when all of a sudden a piercing cry and quick steps caused both woman to turn at the sudden intruder. A cute little girl, no more than eleven years old, came running up to them with her pink backpack slung over one elbow and her other hand reaching out for Maricarmen. She practically collided with Maricarmen with enough force to garner an oof! from the thin woman and gave her a big hug. “I’m done with school Mamá! May I have some money?”

“And a cheery good afternoon to you too, Maricruz.” Maricarmen said drily.

Maricruz laughed sheepishly and let go, putting her backpack underneath the fruit stand for safekeeping. “Lo siento, Mamá. It’s just that Dolores and Primavera are going to the movies and they invited me. So can I have some money, por favooooor?!”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, mija, but you know things have been tight recently. I’m going to have to start doing some night shifts at the cantina so we can stay afloat and have enough spending money.”

Maricarmen stayed strong when her daughter’s face instantly dropped. She knew that Maricruz was used to not having enough money for things she wanted, but being alone at night while her mother worked was something she hated most. Maricarmen knew that, but it wasn’t like she had anybody else to help her with raising her daughter. Her parents had both died years ago, and she had no other relatives willing to help the poor little slut who had a bastard child.

Maybe I could ask… her father for help?

No. Out of the question. What a fine time to tell him he had a daughter after all these years. And after he had just made it big.

“Oh, okay…” Maricruz said dejectedly, before turning a wide winning smile to Adela. “Señora de la Cruz! How nice to see you. Could you spare a few pesos so I could go see a movie, por favor?”

“Maricruz!” her mother instantly scolded. “You do not just ask someone else for money immediately after I said-”

“Of course I can, niña!”

“ADELA!” Maricarmen cried. “I’m trying to show her she can’t always get what she wants!”

Adela waved her off as she reached for her wallet. “Oh, it’s just a little money and our movie theater isn’t expensive. Going to one movie isn’t going to spoil the girl, especially one as sweet as she is. Here you go, chiquita, here’s enough money for the movie and a few snacks as well.”

“Gracias Señora de la Cruz!” Maricruz said as she pocketed the money and gave the elderly woman a big hug. “You are the nicest woman in all of Santa Cecilia!”

“Oh ho ho, you charmer you.” Adela chortled and then handed her one of her signed photographs. “Here you go also. A signed photograph of my son Ernesto, soon to be the greatest singer in all of Mexico! I’m giving it to everyone for free.”

“Oh cool, gracias!” Maricruz said as she took it, clearly not as excited as she was when she got the money. “I think I’ll give this to my friend Paloma if you don’t mind. She’s a de la Cruzito for life, at least that’s what she told me.”

“Oh, and you’re not?” Adela asked confused.

Maricarmen shook her head and smirked. “No, she likes Héctor, don’t you mija?”

Maricruz sighed dramatically and clutched the photo to her chest. “Ahhh, he’s soooo dreamy!...”

“Really now!” Adela laughed in surprise. “I must admit I’m a little shocked. Don’t get me wrong Héctor is a fine boy and everything, but I guess I’m just used to everyone fawning over my Tito.”

Photograph still in hand, Maricruz just shrugged and smiled widely, her light brown eyes almost giving off a golden hue. “Sorry Señora. But Ernesto de la Cruz just isn’t my type!”

THE END

[cicinicole-14]

maybe then

hey hi hello, have a new jolex fic! 

dedicated to @thejolexgroupchat! it was nice knowing y’all!

tw: brief mentions suicide

Meredith remembers the days very clearly. 

The dreary day someone was knocking so frantically on her door close to midnight already, and she hurried down the stairs in hopes to answer the door, yell at her visitor, and pray her children wouldn’t wake up. 

She just wasn’t expecting to see Jo on the other side of the door, brown paper bag clutched in her hand so tightly and rain making her hair stick to her face. 

“Let me in, it’s freezing!” She remembers the demand and the slight panic in her voice. 

“Jo! It’s midnight, what are you doing?” 

Jo doesn’t give her an answer, just shoves the soggy paper bag towards the blonde and she takes it, peaking inside and examining the contents before looking back up at her. 

“Okay, so, here.” She says, shoving the bag back towards Jo. 

The brunette takes it but stands there, frozen, unmoving, entranced, staring down at the bag in her hands. 

“Go take the tests.” Meredith pushes, giving her a nudge towards the bathroom. 

She remembers the agonizing moments she spent waiting with Jo before the ever so small smile creeps across the younger woman’s face as all five tests show the same identical answers. 

Meredith remembers she doesn’t need to ask if Jo was happy about this or not, or if she needed told hold her hand for an appointment and drive her home later that day because this…this made Jo so unbelievably happy she could see it from a mile away. 

She remembers the warm hug Jo gives her because the woman had just been shivering cold from the rain just moments ago and she thought it was contradictory. She remembers the joyous and happy tears falling from big brown eyes amidst a bit of sorrow and pain, grieving the loss of their best friend for not getting to experience this, yet the wave of mutual understanding in them both when she’d asked her to not tell Alex. 

She remembers how Jo thanked her for giving her the benefit of the doubt, even with such loyalty to Alex, but by now, she thinks Jo had earned it. After all, she remembers her own pain and betrayal she felt from the man. Jo deserved someone on her side, in her corner for once. 

She remembers the days and weeks and months of prepping the loft with Jo. Helping her go through old bins and boxes of leftover baby things Amelia and Link hadn’t wanted, helping bring them over to the loft. 

She remembers the happiness on Jo’s face, the complete awe in her eyes as they picked out countless outfits for the new little boy who’d soon be making his presence in the upcoming months. 

The long days she spent in the OR with Jo, chatting and discussing names for the little boy, sharing Zola, Bailey and Ellis’s suggestions for their newest cousin to be. The few moments she got to spend next to Jo’s side as they watched Carina perform ultrasounds as the little boy grew. 

Meredith remembers all the good and happiness happening for Jo, surprisingly. 

She just doesn’t remember where it all went so wrong. 

                          —————————

Everything had been a blur since he’d gotten the phone call. Everything felt numb. He barely registered the voice on the other end of the line, the entire three and a half hour flight, the cab ride from the airport to the once familiar hospital. 

The only thing constant was the shaking of his hands, the racing in his heart, the sheer panic written all over his face at the prospect of something being wrong, so utterly and completely wrong. 

The call came, interrupting his surgery. 

Meredith. 

He ignored it at first. But then she called again,

and again, 

and again. 

And his blood ran cold. 

She hadn’t called in so long. It had been months since he’d sent the letters. Months of utter silence, cut off from everything, everyone. So initially, he was already on edge before he’d even instructed one of the scrubs nurses to hold the phone to his ear. 

In the many years he’d been a surgeon, never had he passed over the rest of the procedure onto a resident and left his OR. Not once, until that phone call. 

Not once until he heard Meredith’s voice on the other line. In a tone that made his body run rigid cold and sent shivers down his spine. 

In a tone he prays he never has to hear again. 

“It’s Jo.” Is all she says, all she has to say to flip his whole world upside-down. Nothing else mattered in that moment. No one else. 

He leaves the hospital after that, in the middle of his shift, not really caring about the people yelling for him as he’s ripping his scrub gown off and throwing it aside. He yanks his scrub cap off and pockets it before he's running. 

He’s running down the halls of his hospital as his chest pounds. He makes sure to grab his keys from his office before he’s out the front doors of the hospital and heading for his car. 

It takes him a little under an agonizing hour before he’s pulling up to the airport, slamming his car in park and tearing out of his car, frantically running towards the front of the airport. 

He’s yelling. He knows he’s yelling but he can’t even hear himself, because everything feels so numb. 

Something was wrong. 

Something was wrong, and he wasn't there.

He just needed to be there.  

He needed to get there soon. 

The flight to Seattle had him completely dazed. 

They’d called his boarding number and it was all he could do to sit in silence for three and a half hours. Three and a half hours of hell. 

The stewardess came and went and he ignored her. The lady in the row across from him had attempted to hit on him and the dude next to him was trying to chat with him, but Alex ignored them all. He didn’t want to talk. He couldn’t. He needed to focus. 

He needed to focus, to get to Seattle, and to find out what happened that Meredith wouldn’t tell him. 

                          —————————

The hospital feels horrifying. 

He’d walked these halls for years. 

He’d been shot in these halls. 

He’d been married in these halls. 

He’d fallen in love with the love of his life in these halls. 

It had never felt this terrifying, ever. 

Not until now. 

It makes his skin crawl, the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, chills shiver down his spine, his blood run cold. 

Something had happened. 

Something had happened and he didn't know, but he needed to. 

Meredith finally pulls him out of his reverie 

He’s just not sure if he’s relieved to see her.

                          —————————

She doesn’t know how she’s supposed to start. 

They teach you a lot of things in med school. She learned a lot there. She learned a lot as an intern, and then a resident and hell even as an attending, chief of her department, she was still learning. She’d taught interns something similar to this, even.  

She just never learned how to do this. 

No one teaches how to tell a loved one about their loved one.

She never learned this, nor would she want to. 

Taking a deep breath, she leads Alex into a private room, encouraging him to sit down. 

That was the first step; location. 

“Mer, what’s going on? Will you just tell me? I need to know what happened. No beating around the bush or half-truths, I wanna know–need to know.” 

“She had a baby, your baby.” She clarifies, because language–step two–was important. It makes her smile a bit. She’d been there right beside Jo. She got to hold him right after he was born, too. He was beautiful. “A little boy–“ she doesn’t get to finish before Alex is on his feet and interrupting her. 

“Oh God, Meredith. God, you scared the crap out of me! I thought someone had died. This is a good thing. I mean it’s awful because I haven’t been here. I guess Jo told you you couldn’t tell me or whatever because why wouldn’t she tell me I have another kid?” He rambles on, pacing around and completely ignoring Meredith’s expression. "We have a son? Where is he? I need to see him. Where’s Jo? Is she okay?”  His voice becomes frantic the longer she stays silent, the longer she remains still, sitting in the chair that was beside his. 

“She had him two weeks ago.” She swallows the lump in her throat as her voice grows shaky. “Alex, I’m sorry, he didn’t make it–“ 

“Why didn’t you call? Why wasn’t I called? Who was her OB? Did Robbins get notified? Could she have helped? Tell me what happened!” 

He’s yelling now. And she should be used to it, patients’ families yelling, screaming, shouting, crying as they begin to process and grieve.

But it only scares her, watching the man she called her best friend, her person, begin to grieve over a child he never knew he had, a child he never got to love, a child he should’ve been there for, to see, to hold. 

“There was nothing anyone could do. Jo had developed placental abruption and it wasn’t caught. It was missed and went untreated. You of all people know how it can just start. She had some spotting in her second trimester and then it had stopped. Carina said that there was nothing to worry about, and Jo even called Robbins to confirm. She was okay.” Meredith tells. “And then she wasn’t. She was thirty-one weeks when an intern accidentally shoved a gurney a little harder than necessary, and it bumped into her. It wasn’t much, she didn’t even stumble, but apparently the force of it caused her placenta to detach. She started uncontrollably bleeding. There–there was so much blood.” 

She watches the tears fall from Alex’s face as he buries his head in his hands, his whole body shaking. 

“Carina took her up and was on the phone with Arizona the entire time. Robbins was still six hours out so she was talking Carina through the surgery, except it was already too late. The baby wasn't breathing when he was born. He’d been deprived of oxygen for too long at that point and everything was too late. So they were able to close Jo up and she got to see him, I got to see him too. He was beautiful Alex. All Karev, that one. His head’s big like yours. He had her nose, though.” She smiles through her own tears at that point. Sharing every detail she remembered of the little boy. “She held him. He was cold, and pale, and blue, but he was still so beautiful.” 

“No. No this isn’t happening. You’re lying, Mer, why would you do this to me? Why would you say crap like this?” 

She doesn’t reply. She doesn’t know what else to say. Sorry doesn’t help. Sorry doesn’t fix this, fix the fact that their baby, a baby he never knew existed, would never get to grow up, and to have to explain that it just happened sometimes. That there really wasn’t a full explanation as to how it even happened, it just did. She knows that doesn’t give him much closure and it never will. 

“So Jo’s okay? Where is she, the loft? Your house? I need to see her. You–you know how fragile she must be right now. Someone needs to be with her.” He’s up on his feet again, pacing around and she’s afraid his walking in circles is going to make her sick. 

“Jo went home after her c-section. Link and I did our best to empty the loft of all the baby things. His nursery in the corner of the loft,  where your heavy bag used to be, had been almost completely finished. She’d put his clothes in the dresser and set up a baby bath in the bathroom. There was a crib and a changing table and a bouncer, the stroller, the carseat, the toys, even a rocking chair. Your mom had even sent some hand-knitted blankets, hats, booties, Alex, they were adorable. I’d never seen Jo so happy and excited. She was ready. She was sad you weren’t there with her, but she was so happy and ready for that little boy.” 

Hesitating for a moment, Meredith shoves her hands in her scrub pockets and then pulls them out as her hand falls on something. She glances at the piece of paper in her hands and then hands it to Alex.

He stares, with tears in his eyes, at the grainy ultrasound photo, one of the last ones taken before Jo’s emergency c-section. 

“I’ve never seen someone so ready for a baby, but Jo was. She had this ultrasound picture hanging on the fridge. I forgot I’d shoved it into my pocket.” She says the last part quieter, but Alex still catches it, making eye contact and urging her to continue, knowing she hadn’t told the full story quite yet. 

“She was happy, until her world came crashing down on her. And then everything was dark. She refused tp willingly check herself into inpatient care this time, and I’m not married to her so I couldn't do it. Link isn’t legally her brother, so we were out of options–”

“You called me here to send her to psych?” Alex asks in disbelief. 

“No.” Meredith says softly as the tears well up in her eyes again. “Jo doesn’t need to be admitted to psych because she’s dead.” 

And with that, Alex’s whole world seems to completely shatter. 

“She’d tucked away a few ultrasound photos and some letters she’d written to you and never sent. Link and I must’ve missed them because when I came back to the loft this morning, there she was, curled up in one of your worn out t-shirts, clutching his baby blanket, and the letters were next to her. She wasn’t breathing when I came in. Her pain medication from her surgery was completely gone, but the bottle was on the nightstand and there was an empty bottle of tequila next to it too.”

Alex gets up, throwing the chair he was sitting in, across the room in anger. “Why wasn’t someone with her?! You knew she shouldn’t have been alone! I should’ve been there! You should’ve called me!” He screamed. 

“There was a mass casualty last night, a huge nineteen car pile up on the main highway, and all traumas were headed our way. It was all hands on deck and no one could be there with her. She said she would be okay. It was the middle of the night. I even waited until she’d fallen asleep before I left.” She explained but she knew nothing she said would help. Nothing she said would fix it. Nothing she said would make Alex feel better.

So, he continued to scream, and yell, and throw things. He punched the wall until his hand was bloody and bruised and there was an Alex Karev’s fist size hole in the wall, but he didn’t care. Nothing he could possibly do would bring Jo back to him. Nothing he did would bring the love of his life back to him. 

And he’d never forgive himself for leaving her in the first place. Because maybe then he could’ve been there. Maybe then he could’ve saved her. Maybe then they’d both be alive. Maybe then he’d have never lost the love of his life completely. 

Maybe then he wouldn’t hate himself as much as he did now, and forever. 

                          —————————

listen, if you want to come yell at me, by all means, please do. I deserve it. I am ready. I have accepted that this will be the fic that causes me to lose friends. 

[honeypwark]

[ Nosebleed p.3 ]

  ↳ Dance The Night Away era

       ↳ Lily teaches Stray Kids a dance.  Lily laughs her ass off. Felix makes a new friend.

m.list

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Chan became friends with Lily when she first came to Korea to train.  He was one of the few trainees she could speak to in English in the months before being put in "Sixteen."  While he isn't nearly as protective of her as the other girls in Twice are, he does harbor an older brother sentiment toward her.  Their friendship is what made Chan ask her to teach him and his members the choreography to "Dance The Night Away," a request she eagerly agreed to fulfill.

"Let's, um, let's take a little break?" Lily glances at Chan, who nods in approval, "Water and whatnot, then when we get back, I'll help you figure out formations."

Lily leaves the practice room to use the restroom.  She makes her way back a few minutes later after answering a text from Jeongyeon.  She stops in front of the practice room but as she reaches for the door handle, the door comes swinging out toward her.

She doesn't step back quick enough and is knocked onto the ground after she gets a face full of door.  She's dazed for a few second then shakes her head and looks up at who stands above her in the doorway.  And starts laughing uncontrollably.

Felix pales, "Are you okay?  Did you hit your head?”

"No, I'm okay, it's just- oh my god!"

Lily literally can't stop laughing.

Felix is kneeled beside her and getting more worried by the second, "Are you sure you didn't hit your head?  You must've- oh my god, did I give you head trauma?"

Lily continues laughing her ass off, pinching the end of her nose to stop the blood flow.

Felix hides his face in his hands, "Everything goes wrong whenever I'm around you, I'm so sorry.”

Lily suddenly realizes how distressed the boy is, "Hey, hey, hey, no, you're okay."  She puts her free hand on his arm gently, "I just- this is actually hilarious."

"How is me hurting you every single time I'm around you hilarious?" Felix asks.

"I'm pretty sure someone somewhere is giving us very heavy signs to, like, I don't know, start talking to one another?  Be friends?  Do you want to be my friend?"

Felix blinks at her, "You must have hit your head."

Lily laughs, "Dude, just because I debuted before you doesn't make me some kind of ethereal being.  I'm just a kid like you."

"That's... debatable."

"Look, once you finish learning the dance, we can swap numbers."

"Are you being serious?"

"No, I'm actually a terrible person and I'm getting your hopes just to watch them get crushed."

"Okay, point taken."

"Good," she holds a hand out to him, "Help me up?"

Felix scrambles to his feet and pulls her up.

"Okay, I need to shove tissue up my nose."

“I have tissues in my backpack.”

“Nice.”

Lily follows Felix back into the practice room and over to his bag. As Felix searches for his pack of tissues, Xiang walks over.

“Does he try to nail you in the face every time he’s around you?” Xiang asks.

Felix gives Xiang a look, silently begging her not to embarrass him more than he’s already embarrassed himself.

Lily just laughs, “I bet it’s just the universe telling us to be friends or whatever, so Felix is my friend now.”

“Is he going to be able to survive that?” Xiang asks, faking concern.

“Haha, you’re hilarious,” Felix says dryly, standing from his bag. “I’ll be fine.”

He hands Lily a small pack of tissues. She carefully un-pinches her nose and empties the blood that’s piled up into a tissue, blowing her nose gently before ripping a clean tissue in half to roll either piece up and stick up her nose.

“Okay, the procedure was successful and the patient is stable,” Lily says.

She balls up the blood covered tissue and turns, finding the trashcan along the adjacent wall.

“Bet I can make that,” she says.

“Bet you can’t,” Felix counters instinctually, looking like he regrets it a moment later.

Before he can take it back or apologize, Lily says, “Alright, bet.”

Lily lines up her shot then throws the tissue, missing the trashcan by a fairly large gap.

She pumps the air like she made it, “Right on!”

Felix and Xiang laugh as she jogs over to pick it up and place it in the trash. Chan comes over to her before she can go back to them.

“You ready to- what happened to your nose?”

“I got into a fight.”

“What?”

“With a door. It won. For now.”

Chan laughs confusedly, “Alright.”

“Anyway, let’s get this show on the road!”

The members of Stray Kids come back to the middle of the practice room and Lily begins instructing them on where to stand for the beginning.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Everyone’s allowed an opinion unless your opinion is stupid.”

“Dude, ‘LA Devotee’ is not better than ‘This Is Gospel.’ There is no argument to be made!”

“‘This Is Gospel’ is depressing!”

“So is ‘LA Devotee!’ It just sounds happy!”

Chan walks up to Xiang, standing to observe Felix and Lily as they argue as she is.

“What are they arguing about?”

“Which one of their favorite Panic At The Disco song is better.”

“Hm.”

“Yeah. Felix likes ‘This Is Gospel’ but Lily likes ‘LA Devotee.’”

“When did they become friends?”

“Today.”

“Felix was too scared to look at her literally two hours ago.”

Xiang just shrugs and goes to pack up her bag.

“Lily?”

Mina and Momo poke their heads into the practice room, greeting the boys before walking over to their member.

“You ready to go?” Momo asks.

“Yep,” Lily says, shoulder her bag.

The two older girls walk back toward the door and Lily starts after them,” Oh, wait!” Lily rushes back over to Felix, “My phone’s dead, but I can still give you my number and you can text me later.”

“Okay, sure.”

Felix pulls his phone out of his pocket, but the screen remains black when he presses the power button.

“This is... unfortunate,” he says.

Lily laugh and swings her bag around to her front, digging around in the drawstring backpack until her fingers wrap around a pen. She pulls it out triumphantly and situates her bag back onto her back. She steps closer to Felix and grabs his arm, writing her phone number on the inside of his forearm. She doesn’t seem to notice how close she’s standing to Felix as she does this, nearly pressed completely against his chest to right from an angle Felix will be able to read from easily.

“Text me later so I can have your number, too,” she tells him, tucking the pen behind her ear.

“Will do,” he mumbles, face red.

Lily walks over to where Mina and Momo wait for her by the door, calling a goodbye to Stray Kids. She waves to Felix then heads off with her members.

[downwiththeficness]

In the Bond-Chapter 13

Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.

Word Count: ~2,600

Warnings: None

A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.

Taglist: @symbiont13

Start from the beginning   Previous Chapter   Next Chapter  

Read on AO3   Masterlist

Lilah swung the shopping bag in one hand, the other shoving the keys into her pocket. She’d ended out keeping the SUV Brasa had lent her the week previous, claiming that she liked the ‘rental’ so much that she’d made an offer to buy it outright. It was a believable lie, Lilah had a habit of picking up and dropping off cars on a whim. Easier to keep under the radar when no one knew what make and model she drove.

The air conditioning in the bar hit her hard, goosebumps rising along her arms. It was nearly empty, as it usually was mid-afternoon. Too late for the morning crowd to stay, too early for the night crowd to meander in. The room smelled vaguely of liquor and the sun streaming in through the windows cast unfamiliar shadows over the floor.

She noticed that Kate was sitting at the bar, nursing a soda. For once, Richie was nowhere to be seen. Lilah sidled on up to her, dropped the bag on the floor as she took a seat, and signaled to bartender.

“Bourbon and coke.”

Kate smiled at her, “Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?”

This was said with a smile that could potentially be described as sly. Lilah, like Seth, didn’t exactly adhere to a strict schedule when it came to alcohol. Too many nights that turned into days that turned into diving into a bottle to forget.

“It’ll be five o’ clock in...three hours,” Lilah quipped as she took the glass from the bartender, “Close enough.”

Lilah sat with her drink for a while, enjoying the fact that there was little to no activity going on in the bar. Aside from Kate and the bartender, the room was pretty much empty. She realized that she had spent almost all of her awake hours the last few days either catching up on what had happened while she was gone or in some kind of meeting.

Seth had taken a more active role in managing the staff, and he consulted with Lilah daily about one thing or another—usually some sort of internal conflict. She’d taken to writing down some basic policies and procedures for him to reference so that he wasn’t knocking on her door in the middle of the night with questions. Despite having just come back from a three month vacation, Lilah still needed to sleep.

A question floated across that train of thought, “What’s Richie been up to?”

Kate gave a little shrug, “The usual, trying to maintain some sort of order with our nocturnal friends.”

“Oh?”

Nodding, Kate added, “Its not just Brasa’s people that are struggling to adjust. We’ve had some kickback here, too.”

To give herself a moment to think, Lilah took a slow pull from her glass, “And how is that going?”

“Well,” her voice had a soft tone of uncertainty, “They aren’t super happy that we’ve done some population control. Kind of kills the mood when we’re trying to get them to buy in to the new way of doing things.”

“I can imagine.”

Given what Lilah had seen in the cave not a few days before, she had a good idea of what Seth and Richie were facing on the other side of the fence. They offered work and beds to those who could staff the bar, but didn’t have the organization or power that Brasa seemed to have. It was lucky that Richie had such a mind that he could predict attacks with an uncanny accuracy. Otherwise, or both brothers would be dead by now.

Rolling her neck, Kate offered, “But, there are a surprising number that want to assimilate—they miss their old lives, you know?”

Lilah did know. There was still a part of her, slowly dwindling, that wanted to go back to the night she met Seth and tell him to fuck off. Everything would have been a whole lot simpler now, if she had. On the other hand, she wouldn’t have met Brasa. He’d become so critically ingrained in her everyday life that the thought of him not being there felt too strange to contemplate.

“Are you gonna talk about it now?” Kate asked without provocation. She had pushed her soda away and was fixing Lilah with a narrowed look.

Lilah blinked, “What?”

With a sigh borne out of frustration, Kate turned on her stool and faced Lilah head on, “The bond. Are you going to talk about it?”

Stunned, Lilah felt her jaw unhinge as she stared at Kate in shock. She went over her recent memories to double check that she hadn’t given it away. Lilah had kept it hidden, she was sure of it.

Kate laughed, a high, clear sound that made Lilah flinch, “Richie told me about it months ago. You can’t hide that kind of thing from other culebras. Its supposed to be obvious, for safety’s sake. Keeps them from crossing boundaries accidentally.”

Lilah continued to stare, her chest tightening as she slowly began to panic. She’d ask Brasa about how it was ‘obvious’ later, when her mind had stopped spinning. For now, she had no lie to put things to right again.

Kate noted her stricken expression and laid a gentle hand on her arm, “Its okay. I won’t tell. I just thought you might need someone to talk to. I know I did.”

Dear holy fuck, but Lilah really needed someone to talk to. All of these months and months of keeping her mouth shut had built up in a way that took an immense effort to subsume.

After another moment’s pause, Lilah blurted, “I don’t know how to handle it. Its everywhere, all the time. And… the worst part is that I don’t care. I’m still struggling to accept it, but I want to keep it.”

The dichotomy of being both ashamed and deeply satisfied by her relationship with Brasa was the thing that kept her chest tight, her shoulders hunched. It sat next to her as she tried to sleep at night. It needled her in the quiet moments between tasks. Lilah rubbed at her forehead, feeling a headache coming on.

Kate’s smile was serene, “That’s good, because if Richie’s anything to go by, Brasa wouldn’t allow you to break the bond, even if you wanted to. He’d die to keep it intact.”

Lilah’s brows came together, “What does that mean?”

“Exactly what I said. He’d do anything to keep you with him. He kind of has to, anyways.”

“What does that mean?”

Kate lifted her hand to signal the bartender, “Two of what she’s having.” Then, she turned back to Lilah, “Listen, I don’t know if its matches up exactly with how my bond with Richie is, but Brasa is the one bonded to you, not the other way around.”

Lilah looked at her blank faced. The book had definitely not put it that way. Brasa had said he was the elder, he had said that he would be expected to lead.

The bartender brought their drinks and Kate fiddled with the little straw, stirring the ice around, “You’re weaker than he is.”

Lilah sneered, “Is it that obvious?”

Kate rolled her eyes, pushing Lilah’s glass at her, “Its always the strong party’s responsibility to protect and serve the weaker. Evens the playing field when—is it fate? Whenever whatever that decides these things steps in.”

“I don’t get it,” Lilah said blandly.

Honestly, she was getting tired of feeling confused. All these shifting realities were difficult enough to track and follow. She didn’t need to feel stupid on top of it.

Giving another little shrug, Kate took their drinks from the bartender, setting one in front of Lilah, “He’s like a billion years old and a literal demigod. The bond would weaken him long term, if he didn’t build you up, if he didn’t lend you some of his power.”

This rang of familiarity, and it made Lilah’s skin tighten with awareness of how she had never put two and two together. Still, the pieces weren’t locking into place cleanly enough for her to feel like she was on steady ground.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Swirling the amber liquid in her glass, Kate fixed her with a coy smile, “It means that a large part of his life will be spent listening to and anticipating your needs. In return, your blood will make him stronger than he ever was, or ever could be without it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Welcome to supernatural mating practices,” Kate deadpanned. “None of it really makes any sense.”

Lilah turned the whole thing around in her mind, “So, he has to do what I say?”

“He is inclined to do as you ask, but your safety and protection is his priority, above all.”

There was something in the statement that didn’t sit well with Lilah. She was used to commanding some sense of obedience during jobs, but this was far more intimate. It felt wrong to know that she could just...ask for something, and he would do it without question.

“But,” Lilah continued, “I don’t want to order him around.”

Kate set her glass down, “I don’t doubt it. I’ve had to learn to watch my words around Richie. If I even look at something in store for more than five seconds, It’ll be waiting for me when we get home.”

Lilah thought about it. Brasa hadn’t bought her anything, that she could tell, but he had given in to her will on numerous occasions. She couldn’t believe that she hadn’t figured it out yet.

“Have you had the dreams yet?”

Lilah snapped back to attention, “Dreams?”

“Yeah,” Kate prompted, her expression taking on a little excitement, “Where you’re sharing them?”

“Uh,” Lilah drawled, embarrassed, “A little.”

Kate nodded sagely, “If the bond is stressed, you’ll have more of them.”

“Why?”

“No idea,” Kate said as she fiddled with her glass.

There was a long silence, both of them lost in their thoughts. Lilah considered how far she’d come in her bond with Brasa, and how far she still needed to go. There were so many unknowns, and she feared that her reticence would eventually lead to him leaving her. And yet...Kate had said that he couldn’t—that would lead to worse things. Lilah could handle rejection, but eternal resentment was not something she was prepared to deal with.

“What’s he like?”

Lilah looked up at the question, her brows rising, “Who?”

Kate shot her a knowing look, “Brasa.”

Lilah considered the question, her breath flowing out of her lungs in a soft sigh, “He’s accommodating.”

“And?”

Lilah felt another little wave of embarrassment well up. She wasn’t used to disclosing this kind of information, and the thought of gushing to a girlfriend about a lover made her cringe. Still, this was likely the only person in the world who could really understand what she was going through, who could put things into perspective and help her make good decisions.

“He’s...smart. So smart. Every time we talk about the business, I feel like I’m taking a master class. And, he really listens to me, wants to know my opinion on things.”

“And?”

She thought further, “He’s attractive. Sometimes I look at him and I just…”

As she trailed off, Kate nudged her, “Have you had sex yet?”

“No,” Lilah admitted, “Although we’ve made out a few times—fuck, that makes me sound like a teenager.”

Kate chuckled, lifting her glass to her mouth, “That’s what I felt like, too. Although, I was actually, like, seventeen when Richie and I met.”

This was a story that Lilah had been waiting to hear. The two of them were so diametrically opposed in personality that the match seemed unlikely. She had asked Richie just the one time about how they got together, before Kate had been rescued from Amaru. His only answer was that he ‘kidnapped her.’

“Yeah?” Lilah prodded lightly.

“Yep,” she sat the glass down, “I don’t think either of us knew what was going on. Not until much later.”

“When did you finally figure it out?”

Kate pushed her dark hair from her face, her gaze contemplative, “After Amaru—in Xibalba, actually. We had a little time to talk when we were traveling between worlds. Richie had learned a lot while we were separated.” She paused, a smile forming on her lips, “He had to do a lot of convincing, but what Amaru knew, I knew. And, she knew about bonding. Even though I put it off for a bit, I knew eventually I would have to come to terms with it.”

Lilah felt the question she wanted to ask rise, and she almost tamped it down, but her lesser instincts kicked in, “Do you regret it?”

Kate shook her head, “Richie can be a real asshole, but he loves me. And all the other things that he is, all the things that make up our relationship, they satisfy me in ways I can’t describe.”

And that was exactly how Lilah felt, when she took the time to examine the bond more closely. All the restlessness of her life settled into a soothing, temperate pace when she was with him. Her eager ideas gained focus and precision, her impulsivity checked.

“You’ve given me a lot to think about,” Lilah said as she slumped in her chair.

Kate gave her sympathetic look, “I was trying to help you unload a bit of what you’ve been carrying around.”

To be fair, Lilah did feel lighter. There was still the issue of dealing with Seth and his temper when he found out, but she found that she liked having a secret ally in all of this. It lent her a small bit of safety that she appreciated.

Lilah glanced at her, “Does anyone else know?”

Shaking her head, Kate put her finger to her lips, “Its our secret, for now. But, it’ll come out eventually. Like I said, you can’t hide this kind of thing for long.”

“I know,” Lilah admitted, “Brasa is willing to keep this under wraps for the moment, but I can tell he’s frustrated by it.”

Kate watched her absorb that for a moment, then added, “Pro tip: Sleep with him.”

Lilah said her name in almost a yelp, shocked by the directive.

“I’m not kidding,” Kate said on a laugh, “Sex and blood are cornerstones of their relationships. They’re what bind them together, like it or not. Give him those things, and he’ll settle down enough so that you can figure this out.”

Lilah thought about it, then said the thing that had kept her hiding this secret for longer than she would like, “Seth is going to hate me.”

Kate acknowledged the statement with a salute of her drink, “He might not like it. He might mope around for a few months—hell, he might take off entirely. But, he’ll be back. He just has to have his tantrum first.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“How?”

Kate lifted a shoulder, “He did the same thing with Richie when he was turned. Ran off for a bit. He’ll come around. Once he realizes that being a big baby about it means that you won’t be in his life anymore.” She paused a second, then, “We’re a family, you know? All of us. And, the most important thing to Seth is family.”

“You think so?” Lilah echoed.

Kate smiled warmly, “I know so.”

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 1.1}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings (will be updated as the story progresses): professor x student (however no underage romance), blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.6k

All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

After hours of curious excitement, it was anxiety that now settled deep in the pit of her stomach and squeezed her heart with its chilly roots. The flicker of the candles and torches on the walls danced across the faces of the children around her and illuminated the entire staircase in a warm orange, which however did little to ease her frayed nerves. Back on the train, she had overhead a few of the older students complain about having to witness the sorting ceremony yet again at full length, and the inevitable boredom it would cause the entire student body this year all over again. Oh, what she would give for some boredom now… or maybe not. Both anxiety and boredom were some of her lesser favorable options when it came to emotions to feel right now, and she desperately wished to just have it behind her already.

But some dunderhead obviously had deemed it an appropriate idea to have the entirety of first years, however limited in number they seemed to be in her eyes, wait outside the great hall in a small pulk of anxious whispers and excited babbling. Gosh, she already was annoyed by her soon-to-be classmates, even if that annoyance quite possibly stemmed in her general discomfort. But seriously, was it so difficult to just stand still for a moment? To be quiet and considerate of others' emotions for a mere few seconds? Obviously it was.

For the entirety of the train ride from London to Hogwarts, she hadn't spoken to anyone besides the candy lady, and simply had stuck to doing some reading in the textbooks she was to bring for her classes anyway. Studying was easy, had always been throughout elementary school, and learning was both comfortable and a welcoming distraction. People however were difficult, noisy, intimidating. That's what she'd stuck to all throughout her eleven years of life, preferring solitude over company that made her uncomfortable, because that's what worked for her. She had no intention to change that now.

These children… they were rather repelling in the way they shoved each other and screeched like chalk on a dry blackboard. They were all the same age as her, and they were all waiting to be sorted into houses, as a stern looking professor had explained a few long minutes ago.

Admittedly, she was among the older ones in the group… she would already be twelve in roughly two months. Just like all the other kids whose eleventh birthday had been shortly after the start of the term last year. She'd had to wait quite a while to be here now, and frankly she was so done with the waiting already. If everyone could just hurry up a little, she would be most grateful.

With every minute that had passed with her just standing in the crowd and waiting for the grand door to open, she had gotten closer to crying. Anxiety definitely had done that to her before… had made her burst out into tears of discomfort and despair only to be mocked and laughed at by her peers for being a crybaby. Had turned her skin into a nervous blotchy ashen instead of the normal cool white for days on end. Had stolen hours of sleep, night after night.

But that had been in elementary school. This was Hogwarts. And she had decided in the very moment she had entered this magnificent castle that she would not let the others mock her for showing her fear. No, from this point on, she wouldn't let anything or anyone intimidate her. She would be strong, hard working, and self-sufficient. And nobody would get to see her crying.

That decision however had not yet made the way from her determined eleven year old mind to her racing heart, nor to her clammy hands. With an annoyed huff, she wiped them on the fabric of her skirt that was almost completely hidden beneath the black robe she had been told to wear.

Robes, candles, moving paintings… whatever she had imagined Hogwarts to be like, this wasn't it. And yet, this old castle held such a serene, bone deep calm in every atom of stone and wood that she couldn't help but feel comfortable in this place. Safe, almost, hadn't it been for the impending ceremony and the always dreaded first time meeting with her classmates.

Maybe she should make an effort to talk to someone… anyone at all. The thought alone made her stomach churn in dread and nervousness. Deep breath. She could do this, she simply had to.

Just as she was about to open her mouth to voice a croaked 'hello' to the dark skinned girl standing next to her, the heavy doors flew open with a startling creak, and gone was the chance to possibly make a friend. Well, an acquaintance, at least.

Only whispers, quiet chuckles and the shuffling of many feet on the stone floor were heard as she was ushered into the great hall together with the other students, and it only subsided once the group of children came to stand at the very front of the large room. Ahead she spotted a long table that was risen slightly higher than the ground level she stood on, and that was the only reason she could spot it in the first place, behind the heads of the students standing before her. Ironic, really, that she was one of the oldest and yet one of the smallest.

Before she had the time to dwell on getting a better view though, the female professor in the front started explaining the procedure, which then was followed by an odd kind of song and finally by a long list of names being called.

One by one, she watched as the students around her walked to the front, and a fairly short amount of time later, the hat that was placed on their heads called out their destined house.

She sighed. Her knowledge of the houses was limited, graciously spoken, as was her knowledge of this magical world in general. With two normal human beings as parents –'muggles', as they were obviously to be called– she had spent her eleven years on this earth as a not-quite-so ordinary girl in a desperately ordinary family. Now all of that was to change, and it left her feeling more numb than anything else. She wanted to be excited, really, but it was so much to take in all at once… too much, almost.

As the row of students in front of her thinned out slowly, she suddenly found herself standing at the very front of the group, with a clear view of what was happening in front of her. A stool, a student with a ridiculously old hat, and the female professor with a roll of parchment.

Behind it however lay the head table, the professors' table as it seemed, which immediately caught her interest. Back there she found the most bored looking and also the most excited adults she had seen in a long time. Well, this certainly would be the teachers then. How many times had they seen this ceremony already? Must be terribly dull indeed…

Slowly her eyes scanned the staff one by one, on their own account rather than for her decision to actively do so. In one long row sat a very tiny man, a very large man, a chubby woman, a woman with spiky hair… She found that she couldn't exactly pinpoint much about these people. Only once her eyes roamed over the figure right in the middle, the headmaster, she suddenly got the lingering impression that however kind and friendly the grey haired man looked down at his students, he was still surrounded by a heavy cloud of power and danger alike, which seemed to radiate off him in palpable clouds. A power that could reach unfathomable heights. He was certainly not someone she would mess with, ever.

While her eyes continued trailing along the line of teachers, she found nobody was spiking her interest quite like the headmaster, and she almost would've focused back on the ceremony right in front of her, had it not been for the person sitting at the very end of the table.

In but a fraction of a second, her straying eyes were glued back to the man with the raven hair and matching robes. He seemed rather young for a teacher, surely not older than thirty. Maybe around the age of those people her parents taught in their university classes. How was someone this young already in such a position? Or… what was his position in the first place? Who was he?!

In a moment of mental cringing, she chastised herself for her blind guessing. Maybe he was a guest, or a teacher's assistant… but whatever he might or might not be wasn't for her to judge. However it would certainly explain why he seemed to be at least twenty years younger than everyone else at the table. And why he was the only one who seemed to prefer his own company over that of the other adults.

As she watched him, oddly intrigued by his long hair and deep frown, she felt the same aura of power and danger radiating off of him that she had noticed about the headmaster as well. Only that this man reminded her much more of a bottomless abyss than of unfathomable heights. Maybe–

"Robin Mitchell." The sudden ring of the female professor's voice caught her off guard, as at last her own name was called out loudly. Robin couldn't tell whether it was for being startled out of her staring at the professors, or because she found herself at the solemn center of attention now, but her heart immediately jumped back into its painfully fast drumming. Hell, she should just get it over with and move on with the evening. Hadn't she just promised herself not to be such a child anymore?!

With a face set in stone, and strides that luckily did nothing to betray her nervousness, she took the remaining few steps to the very front and sat down on the stool to face the entire student body. All eyes were on her indeed, as the sorting hat was placed on Robin's head rather awkwardly to fit over the long wavy ponytail she had forced her dark hair into just that morning. Her immediate reaction to wearing the old thing was an unsettling feeling of discomfort. Like icy fingers clawing at her skull and trying to dig into her brain to suck out her soul. Piercing eyes drilling into her mind to unveil her deepest thoughts and emotions. Robin shuddered upon the mental image.

'Well, what do we have here?' A voice suddenly rang out in her head, clear as day, and she had to suppress the startled yelp from bubbling past her lips. Maybe she really should have talked to some of the other students beforehand, for many of them at least had seemed to actually know what was going to happen during this ceremony. Well, too late for that now.

'Interesting… Very interesting indeed.' The voice sounded in her head once more, and this time Robin remembered that she had sworn not to be frightened anymore. Not even by a creepy voice in her mind.

'You're the hat, right? What are you doing in my head? Can you read my thoughts?!' She tried to phrase the sentences in her head in the same fashion she had heard them coming from the hat before, and for a brief moment she wondered if it would be able to read her mind far enough to know how scared she truly felt. Or maybe it couldn't dig that deep. Maybe it would be fooled by her attempt to show nothing but a focused and collected calm.

'You certainly are a peculiar little thing, all worked up over nothing...' The hat's voice sounded almost mocking now. But even if it hadn't been this condescending in its tone, anyone referring to her as 'little' would make Robin take up a defensive stance immediately.

'And you are a rude, old piece of clothing that's being ridiculously inconsiderate of people's feelings! You know nothing about me!' She defended herself on instinct, very well hearing the pout in her own mental voice but finding herself unable to care at the present moment. Fear made her lash out, that simply was a thing that happened.

'You certainly have some wit, child, but you will find that this is rarely appreciated here. However I appreciate your honesty, an equally rare trait unfortunately… What am I to do with you?'

'Well, you're the one supposed to know where I belong, aren't you? That's your job. I'll be delighted to hear what you have to say then.'

'You embody a rather conflicting set of traits, child, and some of them run deeper than even my perception is made to follow.'

'What does that mean?' Robin questioned silently, with a very much visible frown, but in return was met with nothing but mind numbing silence. The quiet chattering of impatient students graced her ears once more, and her heart picked up speed in accordance. 'Hello? Mister… hat… sir?' Nothing.

What was going on here? The other students had been done within seconds, and she had already been sitting on this stool for multiple dreadful minutes. An eternity compared to the others!

In a small rush of panic that was now ebbing through her, Robin looked up at the professor standing by her right side. She felt terribly small next to this graceful woman, terribly unimportant and most of all terribly insecure, which didn't help in her attempt to refrain from showcasing her nervousness in front of every single Hogwarts student. The professor however was looking down at the parchment in her hands with what could only be described as the calm nigh-indifference of routine.

Frustrated with the woman's ignorance, Robin turned her head further, looking over her shoulder at the raven haired man at the head table, whom she had wondered about before being called up here, and whom she hadn't quite gotten out of her head ever since. She didn't know why she sought out him in particular, and neither did she get to think about it, for in that very moment, he was staring right back at her.

Her breath caught in her throat as soon as her eyes met his, for but the briefest moment only, and yet, right in that moment, the hat's voice rang out once more.

"Slytherin!" It yelled loud and clearly for everyone to hear, and this time Robin almost fell off her stool at the sound, while her eyes snapped back to the student body in front of her. A few claps and whistles could be heard from one of the long tables, and the joy that sprang to her mind upon the cheering was yet weighed down by awkwardness. Luckily she only had to do this once, the sorting and being in the spotlight, and after that she would be left alone if she wasn't mistaken.

As soon as the hat was taken off her head, Robin jumped off the stool like it burnt her skin. At least the difficult part was over now… Relieved beyond reason, she made her way to the long table that seemed to be taken up by the Slytherin house. Her house now, as it seemed. While she slowly regained her sense of curiosity along with the slowing down of her heartbeat, she risked another quick glance over her shoulder just as the next name was called. To her great relief, nobody was paying attention to her anymore, as they now listened to the next sorting. Robin let out a long breath, and allowed her eyes to travel over the professors once again. Nobody was looking her way... Nobody but the elderly man right in the middle, who gave her a brief and utterly unreadable glance, before at last averting his eyes as well. Good… Robin finally felt like she could breathe again, and thus took the final few steps to her table with confidence for once. These people would be her family from now on, or so the professor had said.

"Your name is Mitchell?" An older students asked the very second Robin sat down. She had said a quiet 'hi' upon her arrival, but never received a greeting in return.

"Uh, yeah…" She replied more insecurely than she would've liked, and sat up straight in an attempt to force herself into a more confident attitude. "I'm Robin Mitchell."

"Hmm." The older boy frowned, but didn't say any more than that. Instead, he shot the girl sitting next to Robin a peculiar look, who exaggeratedly rolled her eyes in return.

"So, are you a half blood or pure blood?" The girl asked nonchalantly, but with such an edge to her voice that Robin immediately felt the defensiveness creeping up to the front of her mind again. Was everyone in this world so underlyingly hostile?

"I…" She started, but found herself unable to finish her sentence. Was this girl asking what Robin thought she was? For her blood group? Or her heritage, as in… dog breeds? A sigh directed at her broke Robin out of her thoughts.

"I swear these first years get more ridiculous every single year." The strange girl groaned under her breath, and the boy on the opposite side snorted indignantly in return. Robin frowned, but the girl spoke on. "I'm asking if you come from a wizarding family or a bloody half and half!"

"Actually… both my parents are normal. Not magical, I mean." Robin replied, and added with just a subtle touch of pride to her voice, "I'm the only witch in my family."

As if someone had flipped a switch, the lively chattering at the table close around her subsided and gave way to an uncomfortable silence. Various pairs of eyes locked on Robin in equal shock, doubt and disgust, and she suddenly wished she hadn't said anything at all. Her words, or at least her choice thereof, had clearly been wrong.

"You're a mudblood? Seriously?!" The boy sitting on the opposite of her stated with another incredulous snort. "Seems like they let anyone into Slytherin these days. Sorting hat seems to have had just as many doubts, going by the time it took..."

Honestly, Robin didn't know for sure what a mudblood was, but she had been on the receiving end of such a great variety of insults over the course of her life that she could spot one when it came her way. However, the realization that she ought to feel insulted still didn't give her a clue about how to properly react, and she decided to angrily glare at the rude boy to cover up her embarrassing lack of good responses.

"Just so you know, I won't let you sit next to me again!" The girl next to her suddenly snapped at Robin, in feigned disgust, and scooted as far away as the person on her other side would let her. "People here don't want to be associated with someone like you. So… just sit somewhere else, will you?"

"Whatever…" Robin muttered under her breath and moved an entire seat over into the other direction, while she watched the remainder of the ceremony happening at the front. Just because two or three or six people were being unreasonably hostile over something she didn't even have the slightest control over didn't mean that they all were like this in Slytherin… right?

In an attempt to distract herself from the situation, Robin let her gaze wander to the head table once more. It first drifted to the extremely large, bushy haired man who seemed to be two heads taller than everyone else, and at least thrice as enthusiastic about the start of term. Then her eyes flickered over the headmaster, whose carefully considering eyes were intently taking in the students being sorted. Finally she focused on the sinister young man in black again, who was subtly ignored by the other teachers and looked like he was dreading this entire situation almost as much as Robin herself did. Oddly enough, she felt a bit less terrible when she observed him in his dread of everyone and everything. At least she wasn't alone in her misery.

Hopefully someone else would be sorted into her house soon, would take the empty seat next to her and let her talk to them. Someone nice, hopefully. Or just anyone at all.

_______________

After the rather rough start at the welcoming feast, Robin's first weeks at Hogwarts went by quite successfully. Most of her time went into studying and working by herself, as almost all of her professors had given plenty of homework even in the first few days. Learning about magic turned out to be quite delightful actually, and while Robin became disenchanted with it rather quickly, coming back to the reality of going to school did nothing to reduce her willingness to study hard and learn as much as she could to get perfect grades. Every day for the first few weeks she found herself in the library, sucking up information like a sponge in the desert. In regards to learning, Hogwarts was her paradise. One class in particular, or rather one professor in particular, fueled her perfectionism more than any other and pushed it to the very limits. Potions, with Professor Snape. She had yet to figure out if that was a good or a bad thing though.

It had come as an honest surprise to her to find that the mysterious raven haired man she had observed so intently during the welcoming feast was not only the head of the Slytherin house, but also the potions professor, and as rumor had it, also the most feared teacher at Hogwarts. While the first potions class had been nothing short of intimidating, filled with sarcasm, subtle insults and reproaches about underwhelming preparation, Robin had actually felt rather drawn to do well in the class. Potions was a hard subject, admittedly, and not only because the professor was beyond strict and brutally demanding. The topics and pace weren't for everyone either. Right during the first week they had covered the safety regulations, basic ingredients, equipment and procedures, and then in the second week they had written a lengthy test on it already. In other classes, they had often times not done much more than 'say your name and practice how to properly hold your wand' at that point.

But aside from the admittedly steep progression of the class, Robin enjoyed the logic and structure that seemed to be inherent to potion making in general. While she couldn't in good conscience say that she was studying so very hard purely because of her enjoyment of the subject, she still felt undoubtedly intrigued to find out more about it. In her own interest, not just for class. The ingredients sounded complex and interesting, while the instructions were demanding in both focus and patience. The only thing she couldn't quite wrap her head around yet was the functionality of some of the potions mentioned in her textbook… Could one really brew fame by throwing a bunch of herbs and animal parts together? How the hell was that supposed to even work?!

And then of course, there was Professor Snape. He still gave Robin the chills, much like he had during the feast, and while she tried very hard not to be intimidated by him or his dangerous demeanor, she often times found herself failing miserably at that goal. Yet, she couldn't help wondering about him.

Severus Snape had taken on the position of the potions professor and head of the Slytherin house two years ago, at the mere age of 21. Since then, he seemed to have made an effort to become the most feared and the most dreaded professor at Hogwarts. That at least was what the members of Robin's study group had told her, those fourth year Ravenclaw girls she eventually had found the courage to sit with. Upon Robin's careful inquiry about who the man teaching her favorite class actually was, they hadn't been short of scoffs and harsh words. And in the end, their stories had all come with a rather direct and elaborate warning. 'Don't disrespect him or his class', 'Don't talk to him unless asked to', 'Never do things you're not explicitly told to do'... All the unwritten rules to follow around the dark professor had made Robin's head spin, and the horror stories about his classes had made her stomach churn. Could a teacher really be as bad as his reputation?

While she honestly appreciated every piece of advice she received from the older students, as well as all the information about the wizarding world in general, she simply couldn't understand why everyone seemed to despise Professor Snape quite this much. Sure, he was brutally honest and unforgiving of misbehavior, but Robin had gotten the impression that most of the time his insults and punishments were either well deserved, or at least somewhat justified. As long as people did as they were told and tried their very best in class, he would leave them be.

Robin for her part had come to realize that the best way to survive Professor Snape's classes was to always come prepared, and to always work harder than expected. So that's exactly what she had been doing ever since the first week. And as of yet, he had not insulted, scolded or even mocked her once, which was as good an outcome of her efforts as she could have wished for. Especially considering the bad experiences other students were making with him. Overall, Robin believed to have the hang of all her classes by now, a little more than four weeks into the school year. Foremost she believed to have understood potions, and even Professor Snape. Gods, she couldn't have been more wrong.

It all had started in potions class (where else would it begin) in the third week of the term. At the very end of class, Professor Snape had assigned them a four page essay on the use of the three main ingredients they had been using in class that day, which would be due the following week. It was the very first essay Robin would have to write for any class –as opposed to the in-class tests they had previously done in potions and the practical assignments done in other classes– and she honestly found herself excited about the rather mundane task of written homework for once. Perhaps, this was her time to shine.

Foremost, she considered herself lucky for the first time since coming here that her parents were muggles. They had taught her the basics of academic essay writing (in the format they both taught in their respective graduate classes at university), which left Robin with a decent advantage over her classmates. Hadn't it been for her parents, she might have been quite as clueless as the other first year students about how to approach this assignment. The realization of this small muggle-induced advantage barely made up for the poor treatment she still received from most of her housemates, but it had at least made her feel confident in her abilities for once, and that was something at least. She would show them how terribly wrong they were about her, and about muggle borns in general. For Robin, it all started with this essay.

Thus, more than determined to get a top grade in that essay and no less determined to prove to her professor that she wasn't as big of a dunderhead as the rest of her class, Robin worked through every book about those three bloody ingredients she could get her hands on. It honestly was a good mixture of wanting to impress and actually finding interest in the subject itself that made her work her butt off for a week, but as she handed in her essay during class in the fourth week at last, she felt positive that her efforts would be rewarded. She felt positive, right until she made the mistake of bringing her essay up during dinner with two of her study mates.

"You did what?!" Jessica, a short girl with curly blond hair asked while she desperately tried not to splutter her pumpkin juice all over the Ravenclaw table they were seated at.

Robin felt the heat rising to her cheeks as she suddenly dreaded having to repeat herself. "I, uh… wrote an Oxford style essay for Professor Snape's class? With, uh, with multiple opinions on… on the subject. And arguments for each, and… stuff."

"Oh dear god, Robin…" Marleen, another one of Robin's closer acquaintances, sighed softly and covered her eyes with her hands. "Didn't anyone tell you what those essays are supposed to look like?"

Robin shook her head vehemently, as a deep frown settled on her face in unison with a deep crimson. Who on earth should've told her? There was nobody who spoke much with her besides the currently present suspects, and even they avoided talking about Professor Snape and his classes in a general manner. Besides, Robin had been so utterly convinced that she was doing things right for once that she hadn't bothered asking anyone about it.

"Well, in these essays you're supposed to write down what was explained in class, and what is written in your textbook. Just repeating what was already said, you get me?" Marleen explained with that certain condescending edge to her tone that she often took on when explaining things to Robin. At first Robin had felt furious about the belittlement, but soon enough she'd realized that it was just Marleen's way of explaining things to anyone in general, even to people her own age. "You're not supposed to look for further and quite possibly wrong information in just any random book and whatnot."

"But I did write down what was mentioned in my textbook, and also what he explained. But it just seemed so ridiculously little, you know… How does one fill four pages of parchment with ten bloody sentences?!" Robin defended herself, partially against her peers and partially against her own feeling of embarrassment at her error . "If anything, I did more than what was expected of me. How's that wrong?! I was just trying for an 'outstanding'..."

"For Snape, everything that's not asked for is wrong. And he NEVER gives an outstanding to anyone, not even his own folks." Jessica muttered gravely as she dug into her dessert with a spoon way too large for the tiny pastry. Robin, upon witnessing the brutal assault on the carrot cake, found that she had lost any and every appetite over the sheer anxiety the conversation had left her with.

"Yeah, Snape will definitely have your head." Marleen stated as a matter of fact while she carefully cut her piece of cake into bite sized bits. "But since you're a Slytherin, he might let you off the hook with a mere week's worth of detention."

"A week?!" Robin croaked out, ignoring the familiar churning of her stomach the best she could. "But is… Is that really considered a 'mild' treatment?! And I'm not even a REAL Slytherin! For all I know, he might just treat me like everyone else does at this long and turn me into a maggot or… something!"

"Pure bloods and their bullshit elite can be a nasty business." Jessica shrugged with her mouth full of cake, while deliberately ignoring Robin's comment about Snape. "Guess it's just bad luck that you ended up in the wrong house. Pity, you would've made a decent Ravenclaw."

"Hey, it's hardly Robin's fault that she's gotten herself into Slytherin!" Marleen snapped right back at her friend before Robin even had the chance to defend herself. "It's not like she chose to be stuck with those snobs."

"That's why I said 'it's bad luck', idiot!" Jessica rolled her eyes at the scolding, and Robin for once stayed suspiciously silent. She couldn't stand when her peers trash-talked her house… it left her feeling more sour about her current choice of company than encouraged by their words of attempted comfort. And they did it a lot.

They didn't understand what life as a muggle born in Slytherins was like. Instead of the few odd glances and insults coming from but the very minority of students in the other three houses, Robin had to face a vast majority of this kind of wizards every single day. And not just at dinner.

Still, oddly enough, Robin felt proud to be where she was. Not like she truly belonged there, but proud nonetheless. However she wouldn't voice that thought in front of her companions, mainly out of the fear that they wouldn't want to have her around anymore if she showed that sense of pride in her house. And if they wouldn't have her, she would be left entirely alone for the moment. In addition to that, Robin actually quite enjoyed occasionally learning some fourth year magic on the side. However, tonight she had enough on her mind already.

"Uh, I'll… I'll head back to my common room. Study a little… make my testament before Professor Snape has me hanged for the essay…" Robin tried to joke as she rose to her feet in a sudden hurry, and went on to feign a nonchalant smile. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Dear gods, what had she done?!

______________________________

Tags:

@ayamenimthiriel @chibi-lioness @t-sunnyside @alex4555​

General Tags (don't know if you guys want to read this though):

@its-remy-not-ratatouille @wegingerangelica @dreary-skies-stuff @wiczer @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @theweirdlunatic @caretheunicorn @kthemarsian @lady-of-lies @strawberrysandcream @noplacelikehome77 @theoneanna @mishaandthebrits @i-am-a-mes @nonsensicalobsessions @exygon @hiddles-lobotomy @rjohnson1280 @annwhojumps @spookycatqueen @salempoe @headoverhiddleston @fanfiction-and-stress @createdfromblue @halszka-potter @thecreatiivecorner @themusingsofmany @kinghiddlestonanddixon @scorpionchild81 @crystal-28 @adefectivedetective @lokis-girl-in-mischief @booklover2929 @iamverity @lovesmesomehiddles @akk4rin @whitewolfandthefox @stuckupstucky

If you'd like to be tagged, let me know 💗✨

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Recruits, Regulation″

Recruits Kimber, Alvarez, Han, and McCaster sat mostly slack jawed in the little conference room on the command deck of the UNSC Harbinger. The little alien doctor they had called ‘Krill’ was standing at the front of the room, and in general military fashion, he had a powerpoint holographically projected over the far wall. 

On the projection currently was a diagram of a human body, the kind you would see in high school health textbook.

The little alien was pointing vigorously towards the diagram, “And here, right here this little opening that leads into the bladder is called the urethra, and if you STICK things in it, it gets grossly infected and causes horrible urinary tract infections.” The group of recruits simple sat there in shock, “This, this is the anus, this muscle was designed to push things out not take things in. In fact, if you try, the negative pressure created by your adventure can pull things INSIDE your colon and up your large intestine. The procedure for getting that out might include surgery, but could just involve someone like me reaching up there to grab it out.” 

Mouths gaped in astonishment.

They couldn’t be living through this, could they.

“This, this machine right here is the mechanism used to close the airlock doors. If the airlock doors get jammed, do NOT stick your hand inside to try and fish them out, because this may cause something called degloving…. If you don’t know what that means, its when all the skin peels off your hand like a banana and-”

The door at the far end of the room hissed open, and they turned to see the commander, of course the man didn’t just walk into the room like any normal person. He glided in on his ‘heelies, hands clasped behind his back like he was standing at parade rest. It was such a strange sight, considering the man was wearing an officer's uniform and a captain’s cap having ditched the sunglasses from earlier in favor of the eye patch, which did not, in fact, seem to be a joke, but was definitely part of his everyday wardrobe. 

He came gliding to a halt next to them, “You made a powerpoint?” He asked in mild amusement.

“Of course I made a powerpoint.”

“Hmm,” The man shrugged, “Guess it makes sense.”

“Can you let me finish.”

The man grinned, “Afraid not. We are about to launch, and I have it on good authority these four have been invited to the bridge to see the spectacle.”

The little doctor sighed, “So human by way of his exasperation that it was hard to tell he was even alien, “Alright go then, but when one of them ends up in my infirmary with some stupid injury, I am going to blame you.”

“You blame me anyway.”

“That's because I am convinced you are the amalgamation of human stupidity and recklessness.” The recruits looked nervously back and forth between the two. Its not everyday you watched an officer get insulted to his face, but the man just smiled and laughed blowing the entire thing off.

“Well I’ve never gotten anything stuck in my colon, so I guess I’m not a good representative, anyway.” He pointed to the four of them, “Come on. I think you’ll want to see this.” 

Nervously the group of them stood and followed the Commander through the open doors walking along behind his gliding form.

He had…. Not been what they expected. They had seen the movie trailers, heard about his exploits, watched flight demonstration videos, in certain cases, and even received lectures about intergalactic relations based on transcripts from his conversations, and or interactions. He was a legend at the academy, at the forefront of human/alien relations. All the books were written based on what he had done or what people in his crew had done. He had been the first man to SEE sentient nonhuman life.

And there he was, wearing an eyepatch and heeleing down the hall like a botched middle school costume party. Not to mention, when they had heard of him, they had immediately assumed it would be someone older and more experienced, someone graying at the temples who had seen more life than he knew what to do with, but this…. This guy wasn’t much older than them. Young enough to be their older brother, or their older brother’s weird ass friend.

Then there was that smile, like he didn’t have a serious bone in his body, and they were expected to follow this guy?

How could they take him seriously?

“Um… Sir, I don’t mean to sound…. accusatory , but.” He glanced over his shoulder back at them, green eye sparking with some unknown emotion.

Recruit  Kimber pointed down at his shoes, “Um, are those regulation…. With the uniform or…”

He grinned again and turned away, “Uniform regulation Gama on the proper maintenance of footwear when wearing uniform. Footwear must be classified as a dress shoe and come in Mat black or grey, no laces.” he pointed downwards at his feet, “These are slip ons, and in the online description they were described as a ‘dress shoe” maybe it was on a technicality but I took a screenshot just in case anyone asks.”

They stared at him. 

“Um…. sir…. I hate to sound like an….ur well…. But you arent exactly…”

“What you expected?” The man finished, coming to a stop and turning to face them.

“Well.” Alvarez rubbed the back of his head, “Yeah, I mean you…. Well weve read about you in military science and tactics, and we sort of just assumed that you’d be more ...”

The conversation died away as the young recruits shifted awkwardly.

He smirked, “you thought id be some old stuffy officer with years of military experience. Some regulation stickler with a metal rod shoved up my ass, yes sir, no sir, you say jump, I say how high, that kind of person?”

They shuffled their feet awkwardly, but didn’t answer.

The man didn’t break his expression, “Well this is the reality.  When I was a kid I used to set up my telescope out on the lawn, hoping I would see a UFO I trained for over five years in aviation to get my ass on board the Enterprise, because I wanted nothing more than to go to space.. My first trip to space was in an F-90 darkfire, and I nearly died. I was on the forerunner team that stepped foot on Proxima b and then when we receive incoming radio signals from an unknown source,I accompanied them as well. There I was the first person to see extraterrestrial life, not only that but I helped to establish linguistic contact between the two races. When the Drev war happened, I was deployed when I never should have been, lost my leg become a part of operation steel eye fought through withdrawals and PTSD before crawling back to the UNSC only to learn that the GA Knew me and trusted me enough to want me as the human representative to the rest of the galaxy.” He paused for a second looking them over, “All of that, was just one big accident. I was in the right place at the right time, and aside from training as hard as I did to be a good pilot, I have stumbled and crashed my way to success by the grace of my own luck.”

The group remained silent.

He looked at them with a critical eye, “Do you want to know what I learned through all of that?”

They remained silent but nodded nervously.

He took a breath, “I learned first and foremost to never stop loving what you do, With the army it is easy to take all the rules and regulations, and hate all the political loopholes you have to jump through. It’s easy to make a routine to grow bored. But boredom leads to burnout, and every day I wake up on MY ship living my childhood dream and determine I have no right to feel that way, so if that means wearing heelis on the command deck, Playing songs older than dirt on the bridge, and making myself look like a fool, than I’ll do it, just as long as I remember to contain it when it most matters.”

He turned away and began gliding down the hall again, “Ever wonder why my ship, despite being the most dangerous, is the most sought after in the fleet… It's because Morale. I make sure to keep my people entertained and happy. Morale has the happy side effect of making people work harder, they try more, and they are more loyal. Everything I do, I do for the crew, and for myself.”

He came to a halt at the bottom of the steps and led them upwards onto the bridge. 

The small blue Drev, Sunny, was waiting for them, “Rousing lecture, I almost peed myself a little.”

He snorted and shoved her aside with a shoulder, “You know you love me.”

The drev lifted her head slightly, “Do I?”

“Yes, you do.”

The recruits followed nervously after him glancing towards the Drev female and her bright gold eyes. She snapped her beak at them and they stepped back nervously. She made some sort of humming sound deep in her chest. The the base of her throat they watched as two large holes opened and closed in time with her breathing.

Creepy.

“Begin preflight sequence.” The commander had taken a seat in the captain's chair, and as he was sitting there giving orders and taking command of the ship, you could almost forget that he was wearing an eyepatch and a pair of heelies.

By order form one of the bridge men, they strapped themselves into their seats as the countdown sequence began, “Crew of the harbinger this is your Commander speaking. Please follow all takeoff protocols for we are beginning preflight at this time. Please make sure to strap down all objects that would be lethal flying towards you head, and keep your hands and and feet inside the vehicle for the duration of the ride, thank you for flying with the UNSC.”

He flipped some controls on the chair as the countdown began, and it wasn’t moments before they were being lifted into the sky. Everyone braced themselves against their seats clutching the harnesses as they were thrust upwards into the sky, hands clasped onto harasses, and then they were airborne.

Despite the sudden and violent takeoff, the ride was relatively smooth, and they watched out the windows as earth receded behind them.

It was an amazing sight, more than any of them had ever before imagined, “Charge warp drive!” The commander ordered.”

“Charging warp drive, engage on your command, sir.”

“Diagnostic report on the coolant system?”

“100% operations functional, sir!”

“Engage warp drive in three ...two…. One.” 

And then they were gone, off into the vastness of space at the forefront of space exploration.

At the forefront of danger.

***

The forefront of danger was not what they had been expecting, they certainly had not expected the aggressive prank war that occured on April first, a prank war that covered McCaster in Green paint, and resulted in Han having lost all of his left shoes. 

They didn’t expect the mess hall to burst into a sing along when the commander began playing outdated rock music, they hadn’t expected to get cleaned out in a game of poker by an alien nearly twice their size, or chased out of the shower by a very grumpy looking spider hybrid.

All through this, the commander appeared and disappeared at random wheeling past or riding on the back of the electric blue Drev, only to prance down the hall out of sight leaving a trail of…. Something dumb, bubbles or confett, behind him. 

How he managed to requisition any of the things he got his hands on was a mystery to them.

And though this was the strangest experience they had ever had, he hadn’t been wrong about burnout, boredom, or monotony. They never knew what was coming next, and there was always something interesting going on.

If you walked in on the commander, one moment he was trying to teach the spiderlings how to shake, and the next moment he was on a conference call with the president of the UN brass of the UNSC and the galactic Assembly giving tactical advice with the same mouth that had earlier proclaimed the hypothesis that , why don’t we just do all our laundry in space seeing as the inhospitable vacuum would kill all the bacteria, not entirely sure if he was joking or not.

During meal times he spent a good portion of it rotating around the tables and eating with a new group every day. Generally his big blue friend, Sunny came with him, and more often than not, the doctor as well. Seemed odd how close he was with them, but no one would give a straight answer when questions came up about the nature of the relationship.

It was on just such a day when the commander made his way over to their table and took a seat followed by the blue Drev who was carrying a large salad in a mixing bowl. 

The drev could really put down food, but that made sense.

“Morning gentlemen.”

“Morning, sir.” 

He tilted his head, “Don’t look so thrilled, you might have an accident with all that enthusiasm.”

Alvarez clutched his mug, “Sorry not a morning person.” He muttered 

“And you commander.” 

“Any time is a good time to be alive.”

“And there is the optimist.” Han muttered with a sigh rubbing groggily at his eyes before pausing “What are you wearing?”

The commander grinned leaning back to show off his shirt, “Star Wars T, its vintage, do you like?.... Don’t give me that look, it’s casual friday.”

They just shook their heads in slight amusement as he leaned an elbow on the table, “I was meaning to ask you guys something.”

They nodded, and he was about to open his mouth to speak when, alarms started going off all around the ship.

Suddenly, the geek was gone and the commander stood in his place demeanor no more marred by his clothing than a speck of dust in a beam of sunlight.

“EVERYONE TO YOUR STATIONS, NOW!”

“What’s going on!”

He tilted his head to the side listening, probably to a report over his implants.

“The GA is under attack. “

[snowdice]

Gaps in His Files (Part 14) [Relabeled; Refiled Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton

Appear: Remy, Virgil (but only in the epilogue)

Summary:

Logan Berry has learned many things the last 10 years: a lot of math and physics, a bit of humility, and how to be a hero being just a few. Through his education, his experience teaching, and his exploits as the superhero Bluebird, he’s changed in a lot of small and large ways. He has recorded these changes in well-organized documents and files. He’s even had to create two new file designations: a red one for files about his moonlighting at Bluebird, and a light blue one dedicated to his boyfriend, Patton.

When Bluebird is targeted by a memory device and all of those 10 years of progress suddenly disappear, Patton Sanders and Logan’s extensive files are left as his only resource to get those memories back. But what is Patton supposed to do when there are clear gaps in his files? And what does he do when he is one of them?

This is set 25 years before Sometimes Labels Fail though it’s story is completely independent of it and it is not necessary to read that one first.

Notes: Superhero AU, memory loss, past child abuse, past child neglect, unhealthy ideas about ones place in relationships, emotional suppression, self-deprecating thoughts, medical procedures mentioned, very brief unhealthy views of sex

They’re so dumb... just... so... dumb.

Note that I just posted Part 13 a minute before this!! Read that first!!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

When Patton arrived back at his apartment for the first time since Tuesday afternoon (though it felt like it had been much longer), he decided to finally take Remy’s advice. He grabbed a tub of ice cream, sat down on his couch, and just cried for about two hours before he finally fell asleep. He woke to the sound of frantic knocking on his door. Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled to the door and opened it.

“Put this on!” was the first thing the person on the other side of the door said, thrusting a hanger with a white bag covering its contents at Patton.

“Wha?” Patton asked as Logan shoved his way into the apartment.

“We’re going to be late,” Logan stressed. “We can’t be late, Patton!”

“Late for what? Logan what?” God Patton shouldn’t have left him alone. What was he thinking?

“I forgot about the reservations. How could I forget about the reservations, Patton?”

“Logan?” Patton said cautiously. “Are you okay?”

“I am perfectly well, but we need to be to the park by 6, and I have just remembered all of the ways this could go wrong!” As he spoke, he ripped the bag off his own black suit and hung the other hanger up on Patton’s coat closet door before starting to strip out of his trousers.

Patton paused, hopeful. He seemed… more confused than he had been since he’d lost his memories, but… “You remember something?” he asked softly.

“Oh, I remember everything,” he said waving his hand through the air absentmindedly, standing in the middle of Patton’s apartment in his underwear as he grabbed the dress pants and started to struggle into them.

“You remember?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, the coffee shop, the surgery, the dates, you staying over at my place 81.3% of the time because it’s closer to the hospital, the fact that you leave dried up pens all over my living room,” he blathered as he finished fastening the pants. Once he was done with that, he stepped toward Patton and grabbed his face in his hands. “The fact that you will never go along with my plans without some form of argument. Put the suit on Patton!”

Patton gapped at him for a moment before his mouth slammed shut, his hands clenched at his sides, and his eyes started to well with tears. “Maybe lead with that next time,” he spat.

Logan did that double blink thing he did when he was particularly startled by Patton. “Apologies love, you are correct of course,” and oh, how was Patton supposed to stay mad at that? Patton softened, and, when he titled his head up to look him in the eyes, Logan pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I think we may have a lot to talk about,” Logan said softly, and oh. Oh right. Patton hadn’t really thought though the possible consequences of his outburst now that Logan remembered everything. “But right now, we have somewhere we really need to be. I’ve bought you a suit that will look very pretty on you. Will you please put it on for me, love?”

Patton nodded, brain a whirlwind of emotions, but he got another quick sweet kiss out of it that steadied him enough to do as he asked.

The next thing Patton knew, he was literally flying out of his apartment. Logan said it was the only way they’d make it to wherever they were going on time.

Not wanting to be seen, Logan had to land them a couple of blocks away from the busy park in one of the city’s closer suburbs. He kept looking at his watch as he towed Patton by the hand toward the center of the park

“Um, Logan,” Patton said, “it looks like we aren’t supposed to be here. There aren’t any people and it’s blocked off by rope.” He pointed to said rope with his free hand while trying to tug at the hand in Logan’s grip to make him stop.

He paused and turned to Patton. “Dear, please, in,” he glanced at his watch, “five minutes and 53 seconds, I will be happy to do anything you say, but will you just do as I ask for a little under six minutes?”

“I…fine.”

“Good,” Logan proceeded to pull him towards a blocked off area near the base of the fountain. He searched the ground for something and then pointed at a bit of glow-in-the-dark paint. “Stand there,” he said, and Patton did, shooting him a confused look. “Now face me.”

“Okay…”

Logan took a deep breath now that they were in position. “And with over 30 seconds to spare,” he breathed.

“I still have no idea what’s happening,” Patton pointed out.

“I know,” he replied. “I was supposed to have more than 30 seconds. I was going to walk you slowly through the park and buy you a flower from the vender down the street. I was going to distract you enough that you didn’t even notice the ropes blocking people from this spot, but life got in the way. I should have expected it with you being a doctor and me being me. We have busy lives, difficult lives that get in the way a lot of the time. And you said some things the last few days that worry me and we’re going to have to talk about it and where it came from, but I would like to talk about it. Actually, I insist you talk to someone about it even if it isn’t me. Because our lives are complicated and messy and neither of us are perfect in general or even for each other. But maybe that doesn’t matter because despite all of that, we still somehow made it here in time and I think that might mean something. Something really, really important.”

“Logan sweetie, whatever’s going on, it’s alright. You need to calm down.”

“This is traditionally not a calm sort of thing from what I understand. Anyway,” he said, looking at his watch. “It’s time.”

“What are-” At that moment, the fountain next to them started up, the little white lights that had already been lit on it shimmering like little stars in the moving water.

Logan went down on to his knees and pulled a ring out of his pocket.

“Oh my god.”

“Will you marry me?”

“I…” Patton said. “I thought you didn’t want to get married.”

“What gave you that impression?” he asked.

“You… I asked you to marry me and you didn’t say yes.”

“You did not ask me to marry you.”

Patton stared at him. “I said I wanted to marry you and you said to give you more time.”

He looked like a very confused puppy on his knees in front of Patton. “Yes, for the planning. We had discussed that you would want a dramatic proposal after you expressed a desire to be married.”

“Wha- When did that conversation happen?” Patton asked.

“Two years and 11 months ago in the park by the hospital when we saw a man perform a song to propose to a woman. I had said that those types of proposals made me uncomfortable and you asked me why as you believed they were romantic. I explained that the receiving party would likely feel pressured to say yes in front of a crowd and that such an act could be manipulative. You said we could compromise and that it would be alright if they’d already said they wanted to be married and the other person did it to make them feel loved and surprise them about the day and type of ring, but not the question. You said that would be your ideal proposal.”

“Logan that was our second date.”

“Yes.”

Patton sighed. “Oh honey, I love you. I think we really need to work on our communication skills, but I love you.”

“I would agree after the last few days,” Logan said. “I also love you very much.”

Patton looked down at him still on his knees… because he was proposing. Right. “Oh! And yes! Of course, yes!”

Logan smiled at him softly and Patton wanted to jump up and down, but he also wanted to cry a bit and maybe sorta wanted to throw up a little and not just from the entire tub of strawberry ice cream he’d eaten a couple of hours ago. But the thing he most wanted was what he could tell he was about to get. Logan put the ring on his finger (Patton made a note to actually look at the thing sometime later) and got to his feet before sweeping Patton up into a kiss.

Patton drew back from the kiss feeling lighter than he had in days though not nearly completely perfect. He looked around himself. “Oh, wow,” he gushed. “This is so pretty! You’re so pretty! I’m so pretty! I love this suit. Oh, can we take pictures somehow before we leave?”

Logan laughed at him softly. “I hired photographers of course,” he informed him, preening a little bit, “They doubtlessly got pictures of the proposal and the kiss. We can have them take more if you’d like.”

“Oh, those are going to be wonderful pictures with us in front of the fountain like this. This is the most perfect thing I could ever imagine. I love you so much.” He started to get a bit chocked up. Logan pulled him into a hug and gee, that was even better than the kiss had been, especially because they didn’t have to pull away to breathe for a hug. Logan never even tried to pull back even though Patton kept him wrapped up in his arms for far longer than most hugs ever went. He just pressed a kiss to the top of his head and rubbed his back until the ache in Patton’s chest eased enough for him to feel comfortable pulling back himself.

(And then Patton goes to therapy for 5 years and they both go to relationship counseling for 2 years as I have mentioned in Labels Shift. I do plan to eventually do at least a one-shot of Patton in therapy, but I wanted to end on a happier note.)

Want to read more? Here’s the Epilogue.

[thecompleteguidetomisery]

How to Drive Like a Local in Southern California: A Guide for Tourists and Transplants

One of the challenges of getting to know any new city is learning the unspoken rules of its roads. That problem is compounded exponentially by the quirkiness, shall we say, of Southern California (SoCal) drivers. Therefore, in order to reduce the chances of a misunderstanding, visitors and more permanent arrivals would do well to educate themselves as much as possible about how the locals operate. 

Drivers from elsewhere will be used to deferring to traffic laws when deciding who goes first at an intersection (e.g., first to arrive, tie goes to the right, straight before turns, etc.). Visitors and newcomers should know that, as a general rule, traffic laws are only occasionally followed in America’s Finest City. 

For the local, rules of the road really means - only apply these practices if you can remember the rules, and only if you feel like doing so. 

Changing Lanes

Most drivers are accustomed to a predictable practice of changing lanes when travelling on the freeway. For the average transplant or tourist, lanes are to be crossed one-at-a-time, with enough space to do so safely, and only after communicating the intention to do so by using a turn signal.

For the local, though, each of these criterion is optional.

First, SoCal drivers treat their vehicle’s turn signals like EpiPens: they only use them in case of an emergency. 

In other words, to fit in with the locals, avoid your blinkers in all but the direst circumstances. And “dire circumstances” means - you want to get over into an adjacent lane but the butthead next to you either doesn’t care or doesn’t want to make room.

In that case, throw on your blinker as a signal to the butthead that you are about to cut them off.

Then cut them off.

On an unrelated note, San Diegans, and SoCal residents generally, refer to their freeways or highways with the title “The,” as in “The Eight-Oh-Five” or “The One-Sixty-Three.”

As though these are the only entities by those names ever in existence. Or the only ones that matter. The newcomer will be bombarded with references to “The Eight” and “The Five,” and have to resist the temptation to ask, “The Eight? Do you mean the novel by Katherine Neville? Or Quentin Tarantino’s Hateful collection?” or “Which five? The Jackson Five or the Slaughterhouse variety?”

The history is that Los Angeles got the jump on most of the country by building some of their freeways ahead of The Federal-Aid Highway Act of 1956. Southern Californians named the roads according to their location, such as “The San Bernardino Freeway.” So there was a local tradition of giving roads more personal names than, say, “Interstate Ninety-Five” on the East Coast.

By the time California reworked its road number system in 1964, the “The” habit was already established. Each of the previously charming names, such as “The Harbor Freeway,” were replaced by their numbered equivalents, as in “The One-Ten.”

Anyway, back to lane changes.

A common place for lane-crossing commotion, in any city, is when a vehicle enters the freeway from an on-ramp and hopes to accelerate less restrictive speeds as soon as possible (i.e., get into the fast lane). Tourists and transplants will be familiar with using their turn signals and gradually working their way over, one lane at a time, until they reach the far left lane.  

Rather than limit yourself to that inefficient practice, slice across all lanes, from freeway entrance ramp to the fast lane, on a sharp diagonal without stopping or slowing. The only remaining issue is whether the drivers around you will force you to put on your turn signal before you cut them off.

Finally, reasonable drivers, when getting off a freeway, plan ahead and gradually move right from the fast lane to the exit ramp. For example, if you’ve ever been driving in the far right lane at high speeds in another part of the country, and became aware that you needed to take an exit in two miles, it’s pretty likely you immediately started to work your way over to the exit ramp, one lane at a time, and made it onto the exit ramp without ruining someone else’s day.

You will need to forget this habit.

Instead, stay in the far right lane until roughly a quarter of a mile before your exit. Then, throw on your blinker (either the right or left will do in a pinch since no one pays attention to turn signals anyway), make a ninety-degree right turn, and travel perpendicular to traffic until you make it to the ramp.

When others honk their displeasure, toss up a breezy wave to show that you forgive them for being uptight.

Remember, for SoCal drivers, the key is to create maximum chaos with every move.

Forced Courtesy

Imagine this scenario.

You are driving on a busy side street in one of Southern California’s many villages and there are cars behind you. 

You are a little distracted by the condition of the roads and remember seeing a headline in the San Diego Union-Tribune the other day announcing America’s Finest City will spend $700K to assess the condition of its streets. As your right front tire drops into a crater-like pothole, you think to yourself, “Hey, Mayor Gloria, I’ll save you the money and trouble. These roads need A LOT of work.”

And for those of you who don’t know, the City of San Diego’s 2022 Budget includes the phrase: “Each neighborhood in San Diego deserves ‘sexy’ streets…”

Sexy?

I’d settle for smooth. Even silky. In fact, I think I’d prefer smooth or silky road to a sexy one. And why would you want to drive on a sexy street? Wouldn’t it be distracting? What makes a street sexy anyway?

Okay, we’ve officially opened Pandora’s celebrated box with THAT question.

So back to your drive. You mentally try not to avoid the question what makes a street sexy when you notice a person standing on the corner of the upcoming intersection. All their body language says they intend to cross the road. They are standing on the edge of the curb, leaning forward, and looking in your direction, obviously waiting for you to pass so they can move forward. Key phrase: waiting for you to pass... as in stationary.

And, finally, in this scenario you do NOT have a STOP sign.

If you are a recent transplant or tourist, you likely watch to make sure the pedestrian doesn’t dart out in front of you and, because the person is not moving and you do NOT have a STOP sign, you don’t stop.

Well, you can only get away with that out-of-town nonsense for so long in SoCal.

In SoCal, the correct procedure, while driving 35mph with cars following closely behind you, upon seeing someone standing on a corner who looks even the least interested in crossing your path, is to abruptly slam on your brakes and wave the now baffled pedestrian across the street.

You might think of this as “forced courtesy.” It’s a way of making yourself feel better by proving to yourself what a considerate driver you are.

Never mind the cars behind you. Expect that they will hit their brakes in time not to collide with your backside. Besides, it’s their job to be on their toes, alert for your capricious whims.

The walker will stare at you with something not far from puzzled annoyance. Being compelled to cross the road when one isn’t prepared is the adult equivalent of a child being shoved into the embrace of a least favorite relative, like that uncle with the bad breath. Or the aunt who is an enthusiastic collector of something boring and insipid, like cocktail napkins.

The pedestrian will freeze, lizard-like, unsure of what to do.

And pause, the way you do when that self-important friend of yours interrupts you to say something so dumb and irrelevant that you have to take a moment to recompose yourself.

The pedestrian will be certain something must be wrong with you, since you’d just stopped for no reason other than to let them, a perfect stranger, walk across your path. Your counterpart will wonder if you are planning to run them over once they step off the curb. Why else would you do something as foolish as this?

What is most important at this point is your commitment. You MUST remain stopped and gently but firmly tell the walker to get moving. This is no longer about courtesy, and was never about safety. This is about satisfying your ego. You decided to be considerate and, damnit, this jerk of a pedestrian had better honor that. And be grateful for it.

And so continue to pressure the passerby to get moving. Don’t be surprised to hear a growing cacophony of car horns as the drivers behind you, not aware of your unilateral decision to disregard traffic laws, pressure you to get moving.

At that point, it will dawn on your counterpart that you are truly a San Diego driver, and that stopping illegally to coerce random pedestrians to cross the street is just one of your quirks.

The pedestrian will give you an appreciative wave and walk in front of your vehicle, looking all the while to their right (i.e., away from you). Don’t be surprised if one of the confused, impatient drivers behind you decides to tear around you just as the hapless pedestrian steps in their path.

The other driver will honk, and because they are busy staring into your vehicle to determine what’s wrong with you for stopping in the middle of the street, they will not see the pedestrian until the last second and only narrowly avoid a needless tragedy.

You and the pedestrian will each look at one another, eyebrows raised to the top of your respective foreheads, puff out your cheeks and slowly exhale as if to say, “Well, that was a close one.”

As you drive off, you can yell to your counterpart, “Some people just don’t know how to drive!”

Four-Way Stop Signs

Southern Californians have evolved a couple approaches, in place of legal ones, to handle when two or more vehicles arrive at a four-way stop simultaneously and need to decide who should go first in order to avoid a collision. 

The first is to slow down enough to give fellow travelers the impression that you will come to a complete stop, only to accelerate and roll through the intersection. The purpose of this maneuver is to save everyone else at the intersection the trouble of determining who has the right to proceed first. What a kind, thoughtful approach. Rather than burdening fellow travelers with another decision, you’ve taken the choice right out of their hands and applied it to your advantage. 

It’s a win-win. 

You will quickly recognize those naïve and foolish drivers who still believe in applying adult standards of behavior to the act of operating a motor vehicle. They will look shocked, even angry, as they slam on their brakes to avoid colliding with you, and might honk in protest as you pass. It is important to have an appropriate hand gesture ready for those instances. 

The most common SoCal response is to give a breezy, passive-aggressive wave. This lets the other driver know that you’re the selfless, laid back type who has already forgiven them for having the temerity to make an unpleasant noise at you. 

The other most popular reaction involves a single extended finger.   

The second approach to four-way stops is both more complicated and commonplace. It involves planning, patience, and persistence. 

The most important step is the first. You must get to your limit line (i.e., the white strip behind which you’re supposed to stop) an instant or two before another vehicle arrives. Then, sit patiently and stare at your counterpart while waiting for them to proceed. 

The other driver will likely be confused that you are not moving and will, in their way, wait for you to go, since you arrived at the intersection first. 

Don’t be fooled. This power struggle has only just begun. 

Remind yourself that your fellow traveler is clearly a tourist who hasn’t yet grasped the SoCal system. 

Wave for them to go ahead. 

And flash your high beams to hammer home the point. Make sure you do this before they do or you’ll be obligated to proceed forward. 

No matter how long you have to wait, keep your foot firmly planted on the brake. Consider putting the vehicle in park. 

Then, the moment the other car begins to pull forward, stomp on your accelerator so that your vehicle violently lurches forward about five feet. Just enough distance to get your counterpart to stop moving. 

Then slam on your brakes. 

Your fellow traveler will, in the interim, have come to an abrupt halt. Feeling shocked and betrayed, they will flash their high beams and wave energetically for you to go ahead. 

Remember that this is not about courtesy or efficiency, it is about you and your point of view. You unilaterally determined that the other vehicle should go first, and damnit, you’re the kind of person who sticks to their decision once they’ve made up their mind. 

Besides, if you were to pull forward at that moment you’d lose face. Wait until your new nemesis begins to move, and lurch forward again. This is just a test to make sure that the other driver will really follow through with their commitment. 

They will, of course, stop again. Finally, in an exaggerated manner, throw up your hands as if to say, “What are you waiting for?!?” 

#howtodrivelikealocal

#maximumchaos

#forcedcourtesy

#whatareyouwaitingfor