#The one time a problem got reported the students hardly got in trouble

[sastiel-is-my-serotonin]

It's a bit hard for me to fully understand how bad first grade was for me. Not because the schoolwork was difficult, because I felt too challenged in a academic sense. I struggled, but not because the work was difficult, but because of the racism I dealt with.

My biggest problem that entire year had to of been my teacher. Starting from mispronouncing my name and refusing to say it properly. Accusing me of cheating on my projects because of how well they were done. While I did get help, she assumed my mom had always done all the work for me.

She liked to try and embarrass me, looked for opportunities to call me a trouble maker and would loudly announce my "bad" behavior, despite her simply mixing me up with students with similar names or appearances. Never apologized to me when she was wrong, which was every time.

Called me slow, would make comments about how long it took me to do activities, especially writing.

There were so many things she did that entire school year that added up. But the most disrespectful thing had to of been when I asked her for our Thanksgiving classroom play, if i could be one of the natives rather than the pilgrims. I'm native american, I'm the only native american in this class, I don't want to be a pilgrim. Guess who was a pilgrim?

And she made sure the native men were loud and ruthless and the native women were scared of everything and screamed and shouted in fear so easily. While the pilgrims were calm and collected, from the men to the women and they helped these poor natives.

My mom and me shared similar opinions on the play and she even talked to my teacher about how harmful it was to teach kids our history like that. The she should do better and emphasized the proper way to say my name. Which she pretended she just didn't know, I never corrected her. (My mom knew this was a lie as I was known to be very quick to correct people and sometimes hostile if they didn't quickly amend it. So yeah... Also, she continued to mispronounce my name unless my mom was there.)

I almost forgot, I am a very quiet person, especially then. I only talked if I had to or liked you enough to talk to. She said even though I met the curriculum for the next grade, in fact, she had kept lowering my reading level until she got in trouble, that she wanted to hold me back for a year. She got an earful from my mom for that one, and I didn't get held back.

So that was what it was like in the classroom. Outside of it, I was often physically assaulted by four girls.

There was this one who was in my class and she made it her mission to stand next to me in line so she could force me to talk. I never did, so she would twist my arm, pinch me, punch me, try to bend my hand back, saying I just had to say something and she'd stop. She never got in trouble for it and it's not because she never got caught, many times I caught my teacher's eye while she was physically harming me, she'd smile and look away.

While I was outside of the classroom, outside of line, there was a group of three girls. They come up to me, make comments, grab my stuff, my belongings, corner me. I remember one weekend I got my nails done, they were yellow with glitter. They saw my nails asked if they were real, and proceeded to rip off every single nail. My best friend saw, alerted her mom who did work there. Not much came from that, they continued to harass me, they just made sure my friend wasn't around and her mom.

So yeah, it was really traumatic, dealing with so much every day at school. I remember walking to the bus one day, it was really windy, and I thought about how much I wished it would pick up more and knock me into the wall. Enough to hurt and kill me. I thought about death a lot that year. I didn't realize until I got older how much it truly affected me.

Also, fun fact, I ended up going to school with those girls again, we moved but in fifth grade I went back to that school, that teacher still taught there, and one of those girls was in my class. She never talked to me, she did give me dirty looks for getting questions correct if she didn't.

And later in middle school I ended up having several classes with all of them. I could tell they recognized me, but never said anything about it. No apologies. Nothing.

The one who twisted my arm, I never saw her again at the very least. But yeah, what a fucked up year, huh?

[2oosterr]

▰▰ lt. eastwood [pg 2] ˎˊ-

ENHANCEMENT

[GRADE 2] Individual's physical strength increases with every injury sustained. Note that the severity of the injury affects the increments in which the individual’s strength increases.

▰▰

PERSONALITY

MBTI type - ESFP-T;  Extroverted, Observant, Feeling, Prospecting, Turbulent.

A comedian through and through, Eastwood will never pass up an opportunity to make herself and others laugh, even in the most dire of situations. She takes a lot of joy in annoying others and pressing their buttons, something which her observance allows her to do very effectively.

The one thing Eastwood values the most in others, and herself, is courage – and in turn, those who are cowardly will always find themself on her bad side. It is her belief that if you can't stand up for what you believe in, you may as well have no beliefs at all; complacency is for the weak.

Beau follows her own path in life, regularly disobeying rules and her superiors in favour of doing what she believes to be right. Despite this, she is incredibly loyal and would do just about anything for the people she cares about. She has a strong sense of justice, and is willing to do things that are considered immoral to get to the outcome she deems to be 'right'.

Her capacity for empathy is limited by her antisocial personality disorder, which sometimes leads her to take things too far, but she isn't too egotistical to avoid apologising when she is in the wrong.

▰▰

BACKGROUND (tw; sa, child abuse & suicide mention)

September 17th, 1987, Beau was born to Carl and Ida Eastwood in the small town of Encampment, Wyoming, the second of their three children. From the very beginning, she was a problem child; always getting into fights with her older sister and her peers, being uncooperative with her parents, and being generally argumentative.

As she grew older, Beau noticed the way her mother would favour her older sister Carrie, and while her father was much less obvious – perhaps only because he was hardly ever home – it was clear that he too preferred her more well behaved sibling. After her brother Everett was born, when Beau was six, it became obvious that it wasn’t just a case of her parents not liking her, because they showed the same disinterest for Everett too. She disregarded their authority from the get go, but the favouritism made her lose any lingering respect she had for them. Deep down she knew it was her fault they didn’t like her, but she retaliated because of her brother.

Tensions between them only grew as she got older. Beau didn’t do well in school, her limited attention and frustrations with her home life leading her to become a troubled student, which predictably made things worse with her parents with every failed report card she brought home. Carl was a Governor, and her mother was very concerned with his reputation, and having a child with such poor performance reflected badly on him.

When she was ten, and had a GPA of 1.0, Ida hit her for the first time. At first, she didn’t fight back; part of her believed she deserved it, she already knew it was her fault they didn’t like her in the first place, but another part of her bottled up all the anger she felt, over and over again until it inevitably exploded a year later.

When Ida made the mistake of hitting Everett, that’s what pushed Beau over the edge. She fought back this time, attacking her mother with every ounce of pent up rage she’d been stifling for her whole childhood. It was bad enough to leave a scar on Ida's face from how hard she scratched her, but they kept it quiet – just like Beau thought they would. With how obsessed her parents were with keeping up appearances, she knew they wouldn't breathe a word of what happened to anyone, not even the doctors.

After that, her mother left her alone. Where before she had an intense dislike for Beau, now it seemed she feared what she had created. She uses this to her advantage, of course, leveraging Ida's fear to get what she wanted; be it a note to skip school, or cigarettes and the keys to the truck as she got older, and most importantly, protecting Everett from their parents' wrath.

She lost her tooth when she was 16; got into an argument with one of the school's football players and it escalated from there. He may have knocked out her tooth, but he went home with a broken arm and a bruised ego. Though it mostly remained unspoken, everyone in Encampment knew what Beau was capable of. Her classmates saw her bloodied knuckles, and while they didn't know who she was fighting, they knew to stay away from her.

It carried on like that until Beau graduated highschool – barely, with a 2.0 – and decided she was going to enlist in the military. What she wasn't expecting was for her parents to try and convince her to stay in Encampment; She assumed they just wanted to pretend they had some semblance of control over her, but it also made her think about Everett and how she couldn't just leave him alone with them. After a lot of arguing, they eventually managed to convince her to stay, compromising by promising her a job at the sheriff's office.

For three years she worked as an officer, taking up night shifts to minimise not only how much work she'd have to do, but also how often she'd encounter her parents, seeing as she still lived in their house. She didn't know when, and she didn't know how, but one day she'd use the money to get out of this town, and she'd take Everett with her.

It was 2008 by the time anything changed.

There was a girl, Anna, in the same grade as Beau. They'd never spoken, but Anna was known around town to be the kindest soul there was – quiet, but compassionate. She volunteered at the church in her free time, tutored the younger kids who had a hard time with school, fed the stray cats, the whole nine yards. Anna didn’t graduate, though, she killed herself a year before and nobody knew why.

Eastwood found out, through gossip from their coworkers, that it was Officer Steven Cline's fault. He'd assaulted Anna and the whole precinct knew, yet none of them ever did anything about it. They swept it under the rug and let an innocent girl die to protect their colleague.

Beau had always been an angry person, but this was on another level; where was the justice? Where was the fairness? Cline – all of them, they were cops, they were supposed to protect the community, not abuse their power over it. She decided, the day she found out, that she'd take justice into her own hands, since nobody else was willing to.

He was dead four days later. They found his body outside the sheriff's office, a bullet hole through his skull and his blood staining the sidewalk.

Eastwood didn't stick around to find out what they did about it. The same day she killed him, she returned home, left an envelope containing all the money she'd made in her three years of working in an envelope with her phone number under Everett's pillow, took the keys to her dad's truck, and skipped town.

After 21 years, she was finally free of that town. Free of her parents, free of everyone who thought they knew her, and though she regretted not taking Everett with her, she wasn't sure how he'd react to his sister being a murderer. She left him her number, so he could contact her if he ever wanted to; and she left him her money, so he could be free too.

It was only when she enlisted that she finally found out she was enhanced. It was a shock, both to her and the medical team running her tests, that she found out this late in life. Eastwood wasn't sure what exactly it meant at first, but she was just so excited to finally be doing what she wanted, the implications of the term 'conscription' went completely over her head.

It only hit her when they told her she'd have to be sterilised how serious it actually was. But this is what she'd always wanted, it didn't matter if she was conscripted, she would've joined the army anyway. So she took it in her stride and shipped out to the Marine Corps with her head held high.

She met Bianca 'Vantage' Roh not long after she joined. Of course, she'd gone around telling everybody she was enhanced, before she knew it wasn't a widely celebrated thing, so naturally Vantage sought her out as the only other enhanced member of their unit.

The two became fast friends, not only because of their enhancement, but because they were easily the best of their unit and both of them took great pleasure in making sure no-one ever forgot it. They were so similar in personality, good-humoured with the inability to take anything seriously, it was inevitable that they would be friends. Beau was a lot happier, and a lot less angry, now that she had a real friend.

Beau enjoyed the military like she thought she would, even with all the orders she had to follow, which she surprisingly had little issue with. She figured that since she was conscripted, that meant they couldn’t discharge her, no matter how insubordinate she was. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for her to get disciplinaries for talking back or disobeying orders. She completed her objectives with ease, but she would always stray just far enough to put a few more grey hairs on her commanding officer's head.

A year goes by in relative normality before anything happens.

2010, she was taken as a prisoner of war. None of them saw it coming; one minute they were driving a convoy, the next they were waking up in a basement in god knows where. She could handle the dark, the cold, the pained cries of her comrades, but it was the waterboarding that broke her down. They held her face under a running stream, left her gasping for air, and submerged her head in a trough over and over and over, never leaving her enough time to recover before they'd start again.

Three weeks went by like that before she was able to escape. How she did it was a mystery to her at the time, but looking back, it's obvious it was her enhancement. She really though she was going to die that day, with water in her lungs and barely enough energy to function; but it's thanks to all her injuries that she managed to break the shackles that restrained her. Eastwood fought her way out of that basement with nothing but her fists – alone, because her comrades succumbed to the torture long before.

Those three weeks left her with PTSD so severe she couldn't even get her face wet in the shower without having flashbacks. It was difficult, going back to normal after something like that. Vantage helped her as much as she could, but there's only so much talking they could do before it stopped being helpful.

Everett called her for the first time two months after she got back. She put him down as her next of kin, so it makes sense that they contacted him when she was declared M.I.A.

He was angry at first, understandably, because he didn't understand how she could dissappear like that without saying anything, not even goodbye. Beau was hesitant to tell him the real reason she left, but she would rather he heard it from her than anyone else. It scared him, she could tell, but he didn't outright disown her, so she took that as a good sign.

They talked for hours that night, about everything she'd missed since she left. Everett used the money she left her and got a place in Jackson, he got a job at the theatre and he got free tickets sometimes, that he shared with his boyfriend, and he thought Beau would really like him.

It hurt, missing watching her brother grow into himself, but she was so happy for him she burst into tears on the phone.

After that, things got better again. It was easier knowing her little brother was doing okay, and that he still cared about her despite how she left things. 

In 2011, the base their unit was stationed at got a visit from a decorated Navy captain. It's the most interesting thing that's happened in years so of course, everyone was talking about it from the moment her helicopter touched down. She asked for Eastwood and Vantage by name, and at first Beau thought it was because they were in trouble, that maybe what she did in Encampment finally caught up to her, but those worries were quickly put to rest. The captain introduced herself as Orca, the commander of a PMC for enhanced individuals, and offered them both jobs. 

Eastwood liked the captain from the moment she first opened her mouth. She could tell they were kindred spirits from the way she insulted their commanding officer in the first sentence she spoke to him. She didn't take more than a second to take the offer, she didn't even bother to read the contract before she signed her name and handed it back. Vantage easily followed suit, and within the day they were flying back to Texas in the back of Orca's helicopter.

The OSOD gave them more freedom than Beau imagined she'd ever get. They didn't have to follow grooming regulations, so when finally dyed her hair like she'd always wanted to; And Orca, she was just as much a friend as she was their Captain. Perhaps Beau was thinking too wishfully, but the OSOD felt more like home – more like family – than anything else she'd felt in her entire life.

▰▰

FUN FACTS

She can play the entirety of 'Free Bird' on electric guitar, including the solo – and she will take every opportunity to show this off.

She wears both the mask and the goggles for aesthetic purposes only, not because she wants to hide her face. She just thinks they look cool.

She was emo in highschool (she still is, she just doesn't look it anymore).

▰▰

[juletheghoul]

Dulcis (Part I)

This is my formal submission to The Pit™️ (so much filth)

This is going to be a two part series! It doesn't end here

(I know this might not be everyone's cup of tea since it is about infidelity. Reader is engaged and David is married. Please feel free to skip this if that doesn't interest you!)

Dave (Murder Daddy) York x F!Reader

Pairing: David York x F!Reader

Word Count: 12K (are we even surprised at this point)

Warnings: **TRIGGER WARNING** NSFW 18+ INFIDELITY! (reader is engaged, David is married) language, Smut, PIV sex (wrap it up), dirty talk, **daddy kink** oral (m receiving / mentions of female receiving) vaginal fingering (in a public space), praise & aftercare, guilt?- let me know if I missed any!

Masterlist Part 2

---

“Alright who’s up first?” They all looked away from you, they always do this when they have to present their projects. It’s understandable, you could remember doing it when you were in school.

“If no one volunteers I’ll have to pick someone.” You smiled sympathetically. You saw a couple of your braver students raise their hands. Once the first student went the others saw that like always- it wasn’t so bad.

You managed to get through all of them before lunch which, as a second grade teacher, was a miracle.

They were a little rowdy during the lunch hour but that was to be expected. You used the much needed break to gather your things for the math work that had to be done after recess.

You felt your phone vibrating in your pocket and you checked your messages- there were two from your fiancé Charlie.

Can’t we just elope?

Hi by the way

You could have killed him, you sighed, smiling as you quickly responded to him.

No, hi! Don’t make me say I told you so while I’m at work, I take it your hunt for the tux isn’t going so well?

You had suggested eloping right when he’d proposed, a big wedding wasn’t something you needed. A trip to the courthouse and a nice dinner after would have been just fine with you.

It’s bullshit, lol I fucking hate shopping - I’ll figure it out, have a great day at work, love you xo

You quickly put your phone away at the commotion in class.

Two of the kids were arguing, it was getting intense and you had no idea what caused it.

“Okay you two settle down, finish your lunch - recess-“

One of the students suddenly punched the other square in the face. It was a practised, precise thing and it shocked you.

“Alice! We do not hit.” You didn’t yell it but you used a tone that silenced all the children. You quickly made your way over to them, Jacob was bleeding from the nose and you called the school nurse to come get him. Calling the principal after to let her know what happened.

“Alice, you’re staying inside during recess with me, that was unacceptable. I’m going to have to call your parents. You know we don’t fix things by fighting.” You spoke to her in a neutral tone, trying to keep the anger out.

“But he-“ you cut her off.

“No, none of that. We’ll discuss this with your parents.” You didn’t want to hear it, you looked through your desk for the contact sheet to call while the kids played outside. She sat at her desk quietly, watching you through sad eyes.

“Hi, I’m looking for David York? I’m Alice York’s teacher and I need to speak to him please.” The receptionist sounded wary, she asked for your name and the name of the school and you provided the information. You waited for him to pick up but the receptionist came back and informed you that Mr. York was currently away from his desk but that she would leave a message. Hopefully Mrs York would pick him.

“Hi is this Carol York? Hello Mrs York, yes I’m calling about Alice? Yes that’s right, no she’s fine there’s no emergency but I do have to ask you and your husband to come in for a meeting with me tonight. Well there’s been an incident…” You explained what happened and she was very apologetic, agreeing to come to see you right after work.

You quickly texted Charlie to let him know you’d be late.

******

Alice didn’t give you any more trouble for the rest of the day, Jacob had a bit of a bloody nose but overall he was okay.

The day went smoothly and as all of the children went home you had Alice sit and colour while you both waited for her parents. You didn’t have to wait long.

Your head lifted at the soft knock at your door, you saw an apologetic looking woman and her very bored looking husband.

“Hello, we’re so sorry! I’m Carol and this is my husband David, Alice come here and explain yourself.” She walked over to your desk to shake your hand. David followed reluctantly.

“What happened kiddo?” He asked her as she approached.

“Jacob took my notebook and wouldn’t give it back.” She looked at her mother ashamed.

“We don’t hit you know that! I’m so sorry about this - we’ll have a talk with her when we get home.” She sat at the chairs you gestured to - you noticed David’s face as Alice spoke. A sly smile, quickly wiped away to look stern. Was he proud of her?

You agreed with the need to stick up for yourself but taking a notebook was hardly a reason for two second graders to resort to a brawl. He saw you looking at him and he nodded sagely.

“We’re very sorry about this.” He wasn’t sorry.

You took him in as Carol spoke to Alice in hushed tones on her lap, he was an imposing man, tall and broad. He wore a suit and for all the world looked like a professional but there was something about him that made you blush. You had the vague sense that he was undressing you with his eyes and it made your heart race. He was very handsome, but in a sinister way.

“Never again right Alice?” You spoke to her before turning your attention to her parents. “She’ll have detention for the next two days, no recess, but I won’t keep her after school.” You spoke as neutrally as you could with Mr York's eyes boring into you. You could almost feel them burning you.

“Yes of course, that’s not a problem. We will talk about this when we get home, young lady.” Carol spoke half to you and half to her daughter. David continued to stare.

You were thankful this would be it and were just getting ready to guide them to the door when he spoke.

“How are her grades otherwise? Is she doing well?” He said it in a low tone.

You could learn to crave that voice.

Get a fucking grip

“They’re good, she’s a great student otherwise, got an A on her book report today. Just have to remember to keep our hands to ourselves right?” You smiled warmly at her, doing your best to not look him in the eye.

“That’s great to hear, thank you so much for reaching out - please feel free to contact me for anything.” Carol started gathering Alice’s things.

David continued to stare at you, you saw him boldly look you up and down as you walked around your desk to see them out. Carol was too busy getting Alice into her jacket to see him.

He looked at you like she wasn’t even there.

He smirked as he swiped his thumb across his bottom lip, his gaze focused on the length of your dress. Your eyes widened at the nerve of him, absolutely no regard for his wife or his daughter.

He was devouring you with his eyes and you did absolutely nothing to stop him. You flushed - whether from disgust or excitement you’d never know but it did not deter him. He clapped his hands together and thanked you for your time.

Your heart hammering even after they’d left.

**********

The music was blaring when you walked through the door to your little apartment. You could hear Charlie singing along as he pulled something that smelled absolutely divine out of the oven.

“Hey babe! I made dinner, I got home a bit early.” He kissed you hello as he put the lasagne on the table.

“Oh god that smells good.” You smiled as you all but dropped everything to sit and eat with him.

You both discussed how your respective days had gone, about what you both had to do and like almost every conversation you’d had during the past seven months- it ended up on the wedding. If you were honest the whole thing was starting to grate on your nerves.

You’d always known the two of you were going to get married. From the first time you saw him, he was so handsome and sweet and he seemed to live his life in order to make you happy. The wedding however, it seemed all wrong. The both of you were simple, you were the kind of people who didn’t make a big fuss.

This wedding was a big fuss.

“My mom says she’s paying for the flowers, I insisted that it wasn’t necessary, that it didn’t matter but she pushed- and you know my sister wants to help with something.” Charlie was notoriously easy going so you took his ‘insisting’ with a grain of salt.

“Your family would pay for the whole wedding if we let them.” You prodded gently, his family seemed to want this wedding more than you did. It was overwhelming.

“They just want grandchildren, they think the faster we get married the faster I’ll get you pregnant.” He laughed, you’d talked about children before and you both wanted them but you’d decided to wait a little bit. You both wanted to enjoy married life.

-

While showering after having cleaned up, your mind curiously wanders to a place you didn’t expect.

You were thinking about Mr York. You didn’t even really know why - yes he was handsome but it was more than that. He was intriguing, he seemed dangerous somehow.

That was surprising, why should he be dangerous? Charlie pulled back the curtain pulling you sharply out of your reverie, and scaring you half to death.

“Sorry!” He laughed as he got in with you. You felt guilty, like you’d been caught but he mistook your guilty look for fear.

“You scared the fuck out of me!” You tried to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest as you stepped into the water, rinsing the shampoo out of your hair.

You felt Charlie’s hands circle your waist as he laughed.

“Sorry babe, I didn’t mean to.” He kissed your shoulder as he joined you under the hot spray, his hands roaming over the soft skin of your belly. They slipped over your soapy skin, up towards your breasts. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his fingers as they pinched and plucked at your nipples the way he knew you liked.

He continued with his exploration, running one hand down under it, spreading your folds and honing in on your clit. Gliding over it over and over until you were panting, the other hand still on your breast. You closed your eyes as you leaned your head back onto his shoulder - your hands finding themselves in his hair.

“Faster- please” You were almost there, it was so good and the thought came to you out of nowhere. You imagine for a split second that it was Mr York in the shower with you instead of your fiancé. His fingers between your legs, his cock rubbing up against your ass and you came harder than you had any right to. Your fingers clutching at Charlie’s hair almost painfully tight.

He kissed your shoulder and turned you around to kiss you on the mouth to take it further but the guilt wouldn’t let you. You needed a few minutes to get your shit together.

“Babe, let’s wait until we’re in bed- I’m not really feeling shower sex right now.” You kissed him softly and pulled away.

“Okay honey.” He smiled at you, complacent even though his dick was hard and leaking precum, weirdly this annoyed you.

Charlie was a sexual guy, he enjoyed it. That you knew, and you couldn’t exactly complain about your sex life. He was attentive and he did his best to make you cum, he took direction well and you had no complaints about his size.

The problem was, Charlie was vanilla.

Sex was three positions if that and he barely talked at all. You had tried to get him to be a little more open and adventurous but he always reverted to his regular routine. Most of the time it was fine, you both got off and you loved him.

Sometimes however, you wanted more. You wanted excitement, you wanted passion. You wanted filth.

Charlie was sweet. You could live with sweet.

He was snoring beside you peacefully, he’d coaxed another orgasm out of you once you both got into bed. The guilt kept you awake though, because you’d imagined Mr York the whole time.

————————-

“I need all of the information you can find on this woman.” David gave your name to his contact, he had to know.

He asked Alice a few probing questions but didn’t want to push it. He didn’t need her telling her mother offhandedly that he’d been curious about you.

He had your name and place of employment, for his line of work - that was more than enough. You were a pretty thing and he was intrigued. He knew you’d seen him, he’d made sure of it. He’d also noticed you looking at him, as much as you tried not to. Saw the gorgeous flush creep it’s way up your neck when he stared at your legs.

He had to get close to you, see if his instincts were right.

He had a full report on you within the hour, he saw that you’d been teaching for about five years. That you were a few years younger than him, engaged, parents on the other side of the country, decent credit score.

All he had to figure out now was how to make his move.

————————

“Remember to show your parents your agendas! We have a trip coming up and I need everyone’s parents or guardians to sign the forms I put in them. Please do not forget. Have a great day and I’ll see you tomorrow.” The kids were frantically packing away their things as the bell wrung, you still watched them as you packed up your things. You had to remember to ask for volunteers in their agendas tomorrow- maybe you could call a few of the more friendlier parents.

A knock at the door made you jump what felt like a foot off the ground. Turning around and seeing who was there did absolutely nothing to calm you down.

“Mr York, what can I do for you?” You tried to speak as calmly as possible. Willing yourself to sound natural and nonchalant.

He walked over to you and it vaguely felt like you were being hunted. His quiet made you uneasy and your anxiety pushed you to fill the empty air with conversation.

“Everything okay with Mrs York? I hope Alice isn’t still in trouble?” He was in your personal space and it was difficult to breathe. He was so big, so tall, his eyes impossibly bright with what looked like mischief.

Never in all your time together has Charlie ever looked at you with this kind of intensity.

Annoyingly, it made you wet.

“They’re fine.” He licked his lips as he stared down at you, the bottom one was full and you had the wild urge to bite it.

What the hell is wrong with me?

You kept backing away from him slowly and he kept pressing forward, you didn’t know what to do or what he wanted but he was overwhelming you.

“I know you saw me looking at you.” He watched your mouth as he spoke and you felt like you couldn’t get your thoughts in order.

“I - I’m engaged…” You blurted it out but either he didn’t register or he didn’t care.

“And I’m married.” He got a little closer, there was a crackling of electricity between the two of you and the tingle of it seemed to be focused on your nipples and your clit. He brought his hand up and traced his thumb over your bottom lip boldly and the act shocked you into complacency, it grounded you on the spot. He saw the shock and excitement in your eyes and he probed a bit to see how far you would go.

“I thought about you. When I fucked her.”

You short circuited, your brain was a puddle and your cunt clenched. You involuntarily let out a gasp at his confession and it brought to mind the thoughts you’d had while with Charlie. You were dripping into your panties.

He pushed his thumb into your mouth a fraction and it was like a damn broke, without even knowing why or stopping to consider the consequences you took his thumb into your mouth and sucked. Hollowing out your cheeks prettily.

He groaned, bringing his thumb back out and spreading your saliva onto your lips.

He came close and you prepared yourself for a kiss but he licked your top lip, so fast you would have missed it. You gasped and he let go. Walking out the door as you caught your breath.

—————

The shame followed you like a shadow, it surrounded you as you drove home in silence.

Charlie’s face haunting you as you felt your arousal soaking your panties. You tried to justify the unjustifiable as you pulled into the parking garage of your building, telling yourself that it was a weird hallucination. You hadn’t actually sucked this man's thumb at the school like a whore. No.

Charlie was sitting on the couch going over the seating arrangement when you walked in. You dropped all of your things and walked over to him, you needed to rewrite your excitement somehow. Transfer it onto Charlie.

“Hey babe-“ you cut him off by plopping down onto his lap, and kissing him silent. He was momentarily stunned but he dropped everything and held onto you.

“You okay?” He asked smiling as he pulled away, you didn’t answer, you hastily pulled up his shirt - trying to get him to join you in your urgency.

“I want you, I’ve been thinking about you fucking me and I want to ride your cock, right here on the couch.” You lied into his ear, poisoned honey dripping from your mouth. You heard him gasp and felt him hardening beneath you.

“Jesus Christ…” Charlie wasn’t much of a dirty talk kind of guy, you wanted him to be but he always said it felt awkward. You usually didn’t push it but today Mr York’s words were branded into your brain.

“My pussy is so wet for you baby.” Another lie, but never mind that.

He groaned but didn’t say anything and it was frustrating, you needed the release however and you let it pass. You imagined Mr York saying some truly filthy things in your ear and it made you feel guilty but you couldn’t help yourself.

He let you work out your excitement and after you both hit your peak you got up and headed for the bedroom. You saw him sitting on the couch, half naked and blissed out as you walked away.

You prodded him gently when you were curled up in bed.

“Charlie, did you like what we did today? On the couch?” You wanted to ease into it.

“Yes, we’ve had sex on the couch before, I always enjoy it with you.” He kissed your forehead.

“Did you like the things I said?” You drew little patterns on his chest as you laid in the dark.

“They were pretty intense, I didn’t not like them?” You could almost feel him blushing, you tried hard not to sigh. You were going to spend the rest of your lives together there was no need to be shy.

“Why don’t you ever talk to me like that when we fuck?” You could feel him trying to retreat but you didn’t want to let him. “There’s no need to be shy around me, we’re going to get married, we should be open.” He wasn’t having any of it.

“I don’t know honey you know I get awkward, just not something I’m comfortable with I guess.”

“Maybe we could get some books or take a class or something? So many different things we could try and I want to try them with you.” You were trying to open him up, you didn’t want to imagine a life of predictable repetitive sex - no matter how much you loved him.

“Maybe, let’s revisit it again at some point. Goodnight honey.” He kissed your forehead again and turned so you were spooning him. You tried to be understanding, you tried to think about respecting his boundaries but all you came up with was Mr York’s thumb in your mouth.

———————————-

“David- David!” His head snapped back to the sound. Carol was standing in front of him with an exasperated look on her face.

“David what is going on? I’ve been calling you for the last ten minutes.” He was thinking of you.

“Sorry honey, my head is still at work. What's going on?” He gave her his most convincing smile and she shook her head, amused.

“Dinners ready, the girls want to tell you about their day. Come on, I made your favourite.” She smiled sweetly as she left his home office. The smile disappeared as fast as it’d been conjured.

---

“How was school today girls?” He couldn’t ask about you outright, had to dance around it.

“It was good, learning about the solar system.” His eldest, Molly. He smiled and asked her how she liked it, she talked about it excitedly and he enjoyed her enthusiasm.

“What about you Alice, how was school today?” His youngest was shy, but he could see his personality in her. A little more intense, a little more reserved.

“Good, we have a field trip next week.” There it is.

“That sounds nice, where are you going?” A field trip - this could do nicely.

“Museum, I have the form in my bag. I need you to sign it.” So many shadowy corners in a museum.

“Go get the form sweetheart, I don’t want to forget.” Carol prompted her.

She came back with it a few minutes later and David held it in his hands. He saw a little note on the form that made him smile despite himself.

Chaperones are always needed - please call to volunteer.

“What do you think about me volunteering for this? I could take a day and it would be nice to take some interest.” He took her hand in his and smiled warmly, looking for all the world to be a devoted father.

“Honey, that's a great idea. I’ll call tomorrow and let them know.” She was happy, and David was happy.

----

The night before a school trip always made you nervous. So many variables - it was hard enough to control a class full of seven and eight year olds in a classroom let alone in a museum. At least a couple of parents had volunteered, you saw Mrs York on the form and it made your heart skip. You imagined she’d be able to see every thought you’d had about her husband on your face.

You fell asleep thinking about him.

---

“Okay kids, let’s settle down. The bus will be here soon and I need to make sure everyone has their buddies. What’s the rule?” You asked over the excited din.

“Stay with your buddy!” They all said it in unison.

“Exactly! Now we will be there all day, we have a lot to see, you can leave your backpacks here. We’re going to have lunch there and we’ll be back in time for those of you who take the bus home. You can have a little free time while we wait for the buses.” They instantly grouped together to chat excitedly while you made sure you had everything in order. There were a couple of parents and you gave them wristbands to put on the children.

“Sorry I’m a few minutes late.” Mr York was walking into your classroom in casual clothes. What the hell was he doing here?

“Hello Mr York, you’re right on time. Where’s Mrs York? I thought she had volunteered?” You tried to ask the question neutrally but he could see the panic in your eyes.

“It was always me, whoever took her phone call must have made a mistake.” He spoke gently but it did something to you. You felt his eyes roaming your body and you flushed.

Great, this is going to be just great.

You did your best to centre your breathing while you led the children down the hall and to the buses. You could feel his eyes on you as you made your way down the hall. You did your best to ignore it.

The students lined up in front of the bus in pairs and you quickly went over the rules again - making sure to look at the three parents who were going with you. You noticed David talking to Alice, telling her to behave today and that he’d be helping you take care of the class.

Two of the parents got in first to sit at the back, Mr York waited until you got on, you were trying to focus but you couldn’t. You could feel him standing close to you and you were beginning to sweat.

You meant to sit alone but he followed closely behind you and pushed his way to the same seat as you. He took up so much space and you didn’t want to make a big fuss in front of the kids.

The bus driver closed the door and you were on your way. It would be about forty-five minutes to an hour until you got there and it hit you then how absolutely fucked you were.

The kids were excited and chatty and the din of them talking and laughing drowned out everything. You decided to focus your attention on the window and the scenery. You did not want to focus on Mr York. He was having none of it though.

“I like your dress.” He spoke into your ear and you shivered.

“Look Mr York-“

“Call me David.” He looked down at your slight cleavage and you sighed angrily.

“Look David, I don’t know what it is you think is going on but I am engaged. I am engaged to be married and you are the married father of one of my students. I would appreciate it if you could keep your interactions with me strictly professional.” You whispered angrily, trying to sound serious. He smiled pleasantly at you as if you were old friends catching up.

“Is that what you would call sucking my thumb? Professional? It seemed like you wished it was something else you’d been sucking.” His words went directly to your cunt. You saw it then, him sitting with that amused look on his face as you kneeled in front of him, with his cock in your mouth like a good girl.

Charlie.

You were in love with and about to marry Charlie.

He saw the look on your face and he smiled-

“What’s your fiancé’s name?” How dare he?

“His name is Charlie and I love him.” Why did you feel the need to explain this to him?

“That may be true, but I get the feeling that Charlie doesn’t quite know how to fuck you. Or you wouldn’t be licking your lips at the thought of my cock in your mouth. Is that it baby? You haven’t been fucked properly? I can fix that.” His words had you dripping. Charlie had never spoken to you like this and it made you so angry to compare them right now.

You closed your eyes and let the words pass over you, you had to focus. You couldn’t let this admittedly handsome, intimidating man come into your life and lay waste. He took your silence as a sign that he was right.

You felt his fingers ghost over your thigh and you felt like you’d been struck by lightning. Your eyes shot to his hand and to your shame, you hoped for something forbidden. He watched you closely.

“I think about you all the time and something tells me that you think about me too. Think about what I could do or say to get you wet enough for me to glide right in. Have you ride my cock, have your tits bouncing in my face.” His hand gripped your thigh and you whimpered slightly, involuntarily angling your body towards him.

“He doesn’t know what you need.” He hand travelled up up up ghosting along your seam, just enough to drive you insane through your panties and you put your head onto his shoulder. He stopped then and took his hand away and you came back to reality.

The guilt hit you like a tsunami and you squeezed yourself closer to the window, trying for all the world to make yourself smaller, and in turn the distance between you bigger.

He smiled and sat quietly for the rest of the ride to the museum.

——————-

The relief you felt when the bus pulled in was astonishing and you had to hold yourself back from barreling over David to get away. You felt him chuckling as you struggled to get away and you held back the urge to slap him across the face by the grace of god.

“Okay class, let’s get together with our buddies and head over to our first exhibit. If you have any questions please feel free to ask our helpers or myself. What’s the rule?”

“Stick with your buddy!” They yelled it out again.

“Exactly, that means even if you have to use the restroom you go with your buddies. Please ask one of the parents or me before you go.” You were back in your element now and it felt better. You were back in teacher mode and you told yourself that you could do this.

The morning went by relatively smoothly, you had all of the children wrangled and you made your way through the exhibits without issue. You were thankful that David kept his distance from you, he helped the children and you saw him doting on his daughter.

You had decided to block out what happened on the bus. It never happened.

By noon the kids were getting feral, you guided everyone up to the cafeteria and had them sit so the adults could grab everyone their food in shifts. All in all it went pretty smoothly and you had managed to put the whole incident out of your mind.

You let one of the parents know that you were going to sneak away to use the bathroom while the kids were all in one place and she told you to take your time.

You can do this, you told yourself as you stared at your reflection in the mirror.

You were blindsided when you came out of the bathroom, a hand covering your mouth and pulling you away into a closed off exhibit. The panic shot through you like lightning and you tried to fight your attacker off - visions of Charlie flashed through your mind, of the wedding, of your family; your students. His voice didn’t calm you.

“Stop fighting, it’s just me.” His tone suggested that this should have calmed you. It did not.

It pissed you off and once you regained your composure and stopped squirming, he loosened his grip. It gave you the opening you needed and you slapped him across the face - or you would have, but his hand shot up cat-quick and grabbed your wrist before your hand could meet its target.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You were seething, the audacity of this man to put his hands on you. You were trying to hold the anger close- bringing it to the forefront of your mind so as to eclipse the excitement. That had no place here... right?

Why are you so fucking excited?

Why does it feel like you’ve never known this kind of excitement until now?

Get it the fuck together, think of Charlie.

“I am going to make you cum.” Those words were thrown out into the air like they meant nothing. Like it was simply a chore to be completed off a list.

He was getting closer. His movements brought to mind the wildlife documentaries that Charlie liked to watch, you could see the big jungle cat slowly stalking towards the gazelle. If you were home and watching this scene unfold on the screen, you would be yelling at yourself to run.

You couldn’t make your legs move, worse still - you didn’t really want to.

Instead you stood there, silent and unmoving. Waiting for the jungle cat to pounce on you, waiting for him to crush your neck with strong jaws and long claws.

Why were you so wet?

“I’m going to pull that short little dress up, and I’m going to make you cum with my fingers. Would you like that baby? You want me to make that little pussy cum?” He was in your space now, towering over you and you couldn’t look away. Your breath was coming hard at the filth pouring out of his mouth.

Charlie never spoke to you this way.

You felt the wall and you realised he’d been herding you, exactly where he wanted you. You looked up at him through your lashes- god he’s so tall, so broad - and his arms came up to rest on either side of your head, essentially caging you in. The heat was rolling off him, was it heat? Or was it your own excitement? You’d never be able to tell, all you knew for certain is that you were dripping. You were feral and you couldn’t stop looking at his mouth. He smiled as he leaned in close, his breath ghosting over your neck as he spoke right into your ear.

“Do you want me to? Do you want me to make you cum baby?” the low tone, the proximity, the wrongness of it. You would never admit it after but you nodded, almost imperceptibly. His smile for you then was genuine.

It felt like his hands were charged with electricity, those wands that they had at science centers that made your skin tingle. You felt it, as his fingers softly skimmed your thigh as they travelled up to your soaked center. He touched the damp spot on your panties and chuckled, then moved them aside swiftly to part your folds. You gasped when he glided his finger over your clit, over and over and over, the pressure far too light.

Your own hands found their way up to clutch at his shirt, you didn’t want to admit that you were holding him close to you. That you didn’t want him to pull away.

“Open up for me baby.” he bit at your ear as he lifted your leg to wrap around his hip, you were spread open for him while he wrapped his arm around your waist to grab at your ass. He was doing this to you during a school trip. This was a low you never thought you’d sink to.

“Just as I thought, look how wet you are - and how tight-” He slid two fingers into you and you moaned, they were thick and you were so turned on it hurt. “Don’t worry baby I’m going to take care of you, make you cum, fuck this tight pussy with my fingers - have to cum fast for me okay? We have to get back. Can you do that? Can you cum for me?” He was kissing your neck and licking your pulse point.

“Answer me, or I'll stop, be a good girl for me.” His fingers pulled out and you whimpered - grabbing at his forearm to pull it back because you needed to cum. He brought his fingers up to your mouth and you looked into his eyes as he rubbed your arousal onto your lips. Your knees almost gave out at the depravity of it, in public. While your students and the other parents waited for you. He was expecting an answer.

“Yes.” Your face was beet red and flushed and the word sealed your fate. He kissed you, rough and fast and it took your breath right out of your lungs. His tongue licked your slick off your lips and plundered your mouth while he fulfilled his promise. His fingers diving back into you, this time with the addition of his thumb on your clit.

You could vaguely hear the wet squelch of your cunt as he sped up. It was so good, it was everything and all you needed was a little push to finally leap into the abyss.

“Come on baby, you’re so fucking wet for me. I think you can take another finger.” The noises were obscene and the stretch was so good - he curled his fingers and touched something white hot and it made you cry out a little louder than you should have. His hand came up and clamped over your mouth and the filth came again. “There it is- that’s what you like right baby? Come on, cum for daddy.” You fell apart then. It was disgusting and you’d never cum this hard in your life.

You were vaguely aware of him fixing your clothes, of him licking every drop of your slick from his fingers.

You were blissed out as you walked back to the table on shaky legs, the guilt creeped in though as you slowly drifted back down to reality, you’d been gone for longer than you thought.

“Sorry about that - we got completely turned around, this place is a maze huh?” Dave spoke, quelling the annoyed looks from the other parents and smoothing it out with practised charm.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look anyone in the eye.

-----

It was hard to focus for the remainder of the trip. You could feel his eyes on you as you wound your way around the different exhibits.

The turmoil between your brain and your body threatened to drive you into madness - you could still feel him inside you and it caused your heart to race, to excite you. Your brain was scolding you. How could you let him do that to you?

Oh Charlie

——

The bus ride back to the school was a bit better, one of the other parents sat beside you and it was as if you could almost pretend that everything was normal. Or you would have been able to - had you not been able to feel David's eyes boring into the back of your head. It was a long ride home.

The school busses were waiting when you pulled into the school and you had to hurry to get your kids to your classroom to get their things. After you made sure they were okay and on the bus you went about getting ready to go home. There was a text from an unknown number in your phone - you didn’t have to guess who it was from.

Be a good girl, and free up a couple of hours for me this Sunday. I will come and get you.

You answered before you could even contemplate what it meant.

Okay.

You didn’t even bother wondering how he would know where to go.

--

You sat in your car, in one of the parking spaces you and Charlie had. You could see his car next to yours and you had no idea how the hell you were going to walk in there and pretend nothing had happened. How could you have done this, moreover how could you have agreed to see David again?

I’ll tell him it has to stop. Whatever it was that we did it was a horrible mistake.

Your heart was racing as you got off the elevator, every step down the hallway was another lump of stone settling in the pit of your stomach. Charlie was in the shower when you got home - you could hear the water running and all you could think of was how you were sure he’d be able to see what you did written on your face. Another stone.

“Hey babe, how was the trip?” he was all smiles and the accusatory pointed finger in your face never came. Instead he walked over to you and hugged you tightly, little beads of water dripping from his hair onto your shoulder.

“It was good, how was your day?” His voice lulled you, made you want to forget everything you’d done and it was easier trying to put the whole thing out of your mind than think about it in front of Charlie. It was a stupid mistake and it wasn’t even worth remembering. On Sunday it would be fixed. You were going to tell David to fuck off and then everything would go back to normal.

“It was good - I was thinking we could go out for dinner tonight. What do you think?” He was all smiles, all sweetness.

“Sure babe.” You tried to be happy. You tried to focus, but you could still feel the stretch of David’s fingers when you moved.

----

I’ll be there in an hour, wear something pretty for me.

The text came in and your heart started racing. You had told Charlie that you were going to the school to prepare some work for tomorrow and he had just smiled and nodded. Told you to take your time - that he loved you.

You were determined to tell David that this was not going to become a thing. It was not going to escalate. You conveniently ignored the fact that you wore your cutest sundress, your sheer panties, the matching bra. It was a confidence thing. Nothing to do with David.

I’m here.

You practically ran out the door. It was to end things, you were in a hurry to end things. There was a big SUV waiting in the visitors parking lot and you saw him sitting, looking at his phone. He smiled when he saw you and you felt the butterflies in your stomach as you got into the front seat. He gave you a once over, the shortness of your dress, the fact that your hair was done - and smiled as he drove away from your building; from your life.

Tell him, tell him to turn around and to take you back home. To leave you alone forever.

“Where are we going?” Was what came out when you opened your mouth.

“Somewhere we can be alone.” Was all he said, his hand moved and rested on your thigh as he drove. You stared at it and to your shame and excitement, you didn’t move it away. He gripped your thigh possessively, stroking the inside of it and it made you ache.

Do it - move his hand away, tell him - go on.

You put your hand on his, but you couldn’t move it away. The heat from his big palm was seeping into your skin and instead you just pressed his hand with yours.

Pathetic.

You were in an abandoned parking garage a little while later and he parked in a far corner. Your blood was pumping and you were nervous. He unbuckled his seatbelt and moved his seat all the way back, so he was far away from the steering wheel.

“David, I don’t think-” You started speaking but he cut you off.

“Come over here.” He tapped his lap and your stomach dropped, you wanted to crawl over there so bad. You stared at him and he raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to be a brat? Come over here, if I have to ask again you’re going to be punished.” You felt the wave of arousal wash over you. What could he possibly mean? You didn’t want to find out - not yet anyway.

You crawled over the console awkwardly and sat in his lap, straddling him. He smiled at you and settled his hands on your thighs.

“Such a good girl for me, did you think about me?” He lifted your dress slightly and grabbed handfuls of your ass. You couldn’t help but groan, you could feel him hardening underneath you and you didn’t even register your hands coming up to wrap around his neck. They seemed to play with the hair at the nape of his neck on their own. How could he excite you so much? “Answer me baby, when I ask you a question you need to answer me.” He was kissing your neck, and slowly undoing the buttons of your sundress.

“Yes.” You breathed as he exposed your bra, the lace so fine it was completely transparent. He smiled as he studied you. Face flushed, dress bunched up around your thighs, lips parted.

“What did you think about?” He runs the pads of his fingers across the tops of your breasts as he speaks and you can’t even begin to rationalise why you’re doing this.

“I thought about you…” you tried to be coy but you knew he wouldn’t leave it there.

“What about me, did you think about me touching you? Tell me.” He separates his body from yours, you can see that he wants you to answer before he continues. You can feel your face getting flushed.

“I thought about what we did at the museum, your hands…” you unconsciously tried to get closer to him and he smiled. He smelled so good, you could feel his cock and it made you ache.

“You thought about my hands? Be specific, baby. Tell me what you thought about.” He started kissing the tops of your breasts, slowly making his way down, kissing every inch he could reach through the fabric. You could feel the slick pooling at your entrance, you knew what he wanted. Your mind briefly went back to Charlie, to how he was intimidated by dirty talk.

“I thought about how I could still feel your fingers in my pussy when I got home. They stretched me so good.” Your face was beet red and your skin was on fire. This was what he wanted. He rewarded you by pulling your bra down, exposing your breasts. Your nipples were hard and begging for his mouth and he obliged; pulling you close so he could wrap his lips around one. His mouth was hot and you could feel his teeth just a little. Just enough to make you moan.

“Such a good girl for me, now you get a reward for being so good for daddy.” He bit your nipple a little harder than you thought and there was a bit of pain but it felt so good you let out a breathy moan. You felt him sucking and in the back of your mind, you knew this would leave a mark. Warning bells were going off, he couldn’t leave a mark. Charlie couldn’t see this.

He let go of one nipple to give the same attention to the other - it was so good you had to clutch at the back of his head, you wanted him closer. All thoughts of the marks forgotten when his tongue felt so good.

“Does it feel good? How wet are you right now baby?” He honed in on your nipple again, holding your breasts in his big hands and alternating between the two.

“Yes, god yes - it feels so good. I’m so wet for you…” All you could do was watch, watch as he licked and licked and licked until you were dizzy from the pleasure. Until you thought you might faint, until your nipples were overly sensitive and you could see the hickeys and the little bite marks.

“Show me how wet you are.” He pulled off and let you scoot back a little, you pulled your dress up and he saw the wet patch on your underwear. It was so bad it had soaked through onto his lap. The bulge in his jeans- a little darker. He groaned and skimmed his knuckle against the damp spot at your core and you shuddered. You were so keyed up from the attention he’d given your breasts that it wouldn’t take much at this point.

He undid his jeans and pulled himself out - his cock was so thick, your eyes widened - momentarily nervous. This whole thing just became real. Touching and words could be justified as a temporary madness, you didn’t know what you were doing. Sex, letting him fuck you - that would be the final line to cross. He saw the hesitation in your eyes.

You watched his hand grasp his cock and slowly start to stroke it between your legs, a pearly bead of precum on the head before his thumb swiped through it. Using it to make the strokes more fluid. He let you watch - saw your tongue lick your lips and he let you make the choice.

He waited for you to make the choice, but he didn’t make it easy.

“You see baby? You see how hard you make daddy's cock? I think about you, about how pretty you would look with it in your mouth, in your throat. About you bouncing on it - fucking you deep. Fucking my cum into you until you’re full of me.” He was working himself up, you could hear the slick strokes and you clenched, you needed him inside you.

Wordlessly, you pulled your panties to the side and scooted closer.

“Tell me. Tell me what you want.” He didn’t stop stroking and you felt yourself getting desperate. You were about to let this married man fuck you in his car, in the middle of a parking garage in broad daylight. You couldn’t remember ever being this excited in your life.

“I want your cock, I want you to fuck me - please.” You were not above begging right now.

He was merciful - he pulled you closer and rubbed his cock through your folds once - then he slid inside. The stretch made you gasp. It hurt a little bit, even with how wet you were.

“Look how well you’re taking me baby, I know it’s a lot - so tight, god you feel so good.” He rested his head on your chest while he let you get accustomed. “Need to get you a little wetter, wet enough to take my big cock.” He focused on your nipples again, making you cry out. You were so full and your nipples were so sensitive you didn’t think you could take any more.

“Please - please move, please make me cum.” You were so overwhelmed you were on the verge of tears. He bucked up once and you gasped - he was pressed up against the spongy spot inside of you that made you see stars and you were moaning, you rolled your hips and as he bucked up into you and you knew the coil was about to snap. He snaked his hand down - pressing his thumb to your clit. Your slick was drenching his lap and you told him i’m gonna cum and he gripped your ass to really buck up and when you came he bit at your breast again.

“God you’re pussy gets so fucking wet when you cum, fuck - squeezing me so fucking tight, I’m going to think about this cunt later.” He came with a groan - open mouthed kisses on your breasts. You could feel his cum dripping out of you and you gave a silent prayer that you were on birth control.

You were not a virgin. You’d had sex before - you’d had good sex before. This wasn’t good sex. This was great sex -this was otherworldly and it scared you with how good you felt. Even with the bites and hickeys on your tits. How were you supposed to hide this? It was hard to feel the guilt when he was rubbing your back like this, when he was kissing your neck and loving you like this.

“You did so good baby - such a good girl for me.” He pulled you down to him by the back of your neck and he kissed you - his tongue running along the seam of your mouth. You granted him entrance and it was consuming, your hands gripped his hair and you clenched around him. He rewarded you with a groan into your mouth. Even with the guilt you couldn’t get close enough. His praise was like a tonic - you needed it and his kisses. You whimpered into his mouth and he knew. He knew what you needed. “My best girl, my beautiful girl. Took me so well, made me cum with that pretty pussy.” He kissed your neck and rubbed your back lovingly and you felt like a cat in a bright patch of sun under his praise. Cuddly and satiated as you burrowed into the crook of his neck.

“A few more minutes and then we have to go home.” He spoke into your hair as he let you take your comfort.

----

“You okay babe?” Charlie's voice startled you when you walked into the apartment, your tote bag full of school things, untouched on your shoulder.

“Yes - why?” You answered too quickly - you expected him to see everything written on your face. You could still feel David's cock inside you, his cum currently pooled in your panties. Could feel your breasts were a little sore from his attention and that excited you more than it had any right to.

“Nothing just looks like you’ve seen a ghost - did you get a lot done? I made dinner by the way - your favourite.” He smiled from the couch, he was playing video games which was good. Would mean he wouldn’t intrude on you in the bathroom. The guilt was hot and heavy in your gut but you plastered a smile on your face.

“Yeah, lots of activities planned for the kids tomorrow. Thanks babe- i’m going to shower quickly.” You smiled and came over to kiss him on the forehead quickly. Making sure not to linger too quickly. You had no idea if you smelled like David. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“Okay honey, I’ll wait for you to eat.” He went back to his game.

----

This was not good.

You were staring at yourself in the mirror naked, your breasts were full of hickeys, little bruises. Your nipples were puffy from David’s mouth and the soreness between your legs was insistent. The tell tale heart only it was under your clothes instead of your floorboards.

How the fuck am I going to hide this?

The lips of your sex were sensitive when you washed, you kept replaying the whole thing over in your mind and you still couldn’t believe you’d done this. Not only had you done it, you’d enjoyed it immensely. His words, god his words.

You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help but compare them, Charlie and David. Polar opposites, especially in how they made you feel.

Charlie was dependable, he was home - pure comfort and love.

David was excitement, sex and filth and he made you so wet you couldn’t stand it. When he called you his good girl something inside you luxuriated, something was fulfilled that you didn't even realize needed fulfilling. You knew though, you knew this had to be a one time thing.

It couldn’t continue - you ignored that thing inside you that slithered, whispered that you couldn’t stop now - it was too good. You were really good at ignoring things it seemed.

It could have been considered cruel that Charlie’s blind acceptance of your excuse as to why you didn’t want to have sex annoyed you. You ignored that too.

---

David smiled at the wet spot on his jeans when pulled into his driveway.

You had been so responsive, so open to his touch. So receptive of his words and his actions.

The look on your face when he had your tits in his mouth had made him so painfully hard, he was rougher than he meant to be. His original plan had been to ease you into it - soft touches and soft words until he knew you were ready but that little dress, the sheer bra. You were going to be trouble and he couldn’t wait.

It was clear that whoever the jackass was you were engaged to - he wasn’t doing you justice. He wasn’t wringing pleasure out of you like he should be. He could see how much you had enjoyed his attention - even the roughness, the bites and the marking. Thinking about those marks and hickeys on your nipples excited him even now.

He was glad he was home alone - he could put his clothes to wash.

He had so many plans.

---

You managed to put David out of your mind when you went back to work. Your kids took up so much of your energy and it was nice to feel normal, you went so far as to delete his messages on your phone. Not before you saved his name as D, but nevermind that.

After a few days with no contact, you could almost pretend that you had hallucinated the whole thing. Until you saw the -thankfully- fading hickeys on your chest. You had told Charlie that you weren't feeling your best, that you wanted to keep your shirt on during your coupling and as always he agreed happily.

Seemed he could sense your inner peace, a message had come through late in the week while you were on your lunch break.

Free up Saturday night, be ready by 8

Your heart was racing, you could feel it in your clit. You didn’t answer, you wanted to make sure you could actually get away before responding but he didn’t like that. Another text came through.

I expect an answer.

Okay.

You texted back quickly.

Okay what…?

Oh god - you knew what he wanted you to write and it felt so wrong, so dirty but it excited you so much.

Okay daddy.

You blushed and covered your face, almost embarrassed, needing to see his reply but not wanting to face it at the same time.

That’s my good girl. Saturday at 8.

His praise was everything, it made your heart sing, made you feel light and giddy. You like being his good girl don’t you? That slithering thing again - you ignored it. It shamed you that the only thing you could do for the rest of the day, was try to think of a way to get rid of Charlie for the weekend.

—-

Charlie seemed pleasantly surprised, you had -very sneakily- messaged his best friend Jack that he should plan a boys weekend. That you thought he needed to have some fun. To stop thinking about the wedding. Oh god the wedding.

Jack had told you that Charlie was lucky you were so cool and that he’d plan something.

“Are you sure babe? I don’t have to go- it’s just a weekend at Jack’s cottage but I’m sure it’ll be fine if you came or if I stayed here.” You could see he wanted you to be happy, you stomped away the guilt.

“No you go ahead, Jack will be happy to have the boys there without the girlfriends or fiancé’s.” You gave him your most convincing smile. He smiled, promising that if you needed anything he would come back at the drop of a hat.

Not likely. You stomped the slithering thing down too.

----

Charlie left on Thursday night, Jack insisted they stay there until Monday morning and you talked Charlie into going. You relished the idea of being alone, pretending at least in some fucked up part of your brain that you were single. That David was single - just two single adults without families, without any responsibilities or commitments.

When Saturday finally came you were on edge, you had started getting ready a couple of hours before in your excitement. You didn’t want to delve too deep into what that meant but nevertheless.

You focused your energy on making sure your hair looked good, moisturizing your skin - meaningless things that took up your time and helped you conveniently ignore that you were prepping for sex with a married man while your fiance was with his friends.

I’m here.

Your heart leapt, you spritzed your best perfume and made your way out. You couldn’t help but smile as you made your way down.

He was serious when you got into the car and for a moment you were afraid you’d displeased him somehow, it should have worried you how much you craved his approval - his praise.

“Hi.” You said shyly - hoping he’d notice your dress but he didn’t. He drove without a word. What had happened? You thought back to how he had comforted you - held you close and rubbed your back. You wanted that, you wanted a little tenderness before the filth came. It seemed as though he sensed your panic and he placed his hand on your thigh- it calmed you more than it should have.

“Hi baby.” he gave you a little smile and the slithering thing stretched and luxuriated. Everything was okay.

“Where are we going?” You asked him - even though you knew he probably wouldn’t tell you but he surprised you.

“To my house - I’m going to fuck you in my bed.” He spoke casually, completely unphased. His eyes focused on the road, on the streetlights and signs. He couldn’t see how your heart leapt, how the heat spread from your face to your ears, leaving splotches of pink on your chest.

“But - what about?” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words, your wife.

“She took the girls to their grandparents - I have the house to myself for the weekend. So i’m going to take advantage. Going to take you home - spread you out on my bed and I’m going to do all of the things I’ve been thinking about this whole week.” He spoke as he turned onto a neat little street, full of spaced out homes. Houses that screamed soccer moms and wall-street dads. White picket fences and minivans.

The house both matched him and it didn’t. It made sense that he’d be able to afford this - your thoughts went back to the designer bag Mrs. York brought to your meeting. The SUV you were sitting in had leather seats, it was probably brand new, Carol probably drove a Mercedes. They obviously had money.

You noticed that the lights outside the house were off - didn’t want his neighbours to see him bringing a woman who was definitely not his wife home on a Saturday night. He guided you to the house wordlessly and the guilt reared its ugly head at the sight of two bikes, casually tossed onto the porch. This man was married; had a family and here you were - wet and itching to get underneath him.

It was worse when you got in the house, his wife very much present in all things. Her shoes at the door, her sweater draped over a tasteful sectional. Little avatars of his children were scattered here too - dolls clothes, the evidence of a school project you had assigned. Graded work and colourful pictures drawn by little hands held up by souvenir magnets on the fridge. Visible even from outside the kitchen. Evidence of his life which shouldn’t have had any space for you.

Tell him to take you home right this minute your brain berated you. Your conscience was begging you to take back your life- this could only end badly. You thought of your upcoming wedding, of your sweet fiance who doted on you. On the boring unfulfilling sex the slithering thing added.

You thought all these things and more, but your legs carried you wherever he led. Your pussy dripped for him, your mouth stayed shut. Instead you followed him dutifully up the stairs - passed rooms with colourful block letters, rooms his daughters slept in. The cream coloured carpet under your feet was plush and it cushioned the sound of your steps - steps that took you passed a home office. You could see him there, sitting and working while his daughters played. While his wife cooked dinner.

You had no business here and yet, you kept walking.

The bedroom was tasteful, it was decorated with soft colours, taupes and beiges. The bed was neatly made - piled high with pillows and cushions. You could see them on this bed, David and Carol here, fucking in this bed. It was a curious feeling, you weren’t jealous; you had no reason to be. You had Charlie and he had Carol, was he looking for the same thing in you that you had found in him? He didn’t seem like the kind of man to settle.

You were looking around; so lost in your thoughts you barely heard him approach you and before you knew it he was wrapped around you and the thoughts melted away. His hands burned a path across your skin wherever they touched you.

“I fuck my wife in this bed. I fuck her and think of you. I think about how wet you got when I got your tits out. How wet you get when you cum.” he spoke into your ear and you had to take a deep breath, the ease with which he spoke to you like this was astounding. He walked you toward the bed until you had no choice but to sit.

“You look so pretty when you blush baby.” he ran his hand through your hair, gripping it a little tight, pulling it back so your neck was craned up to him - it pulled a gasp out of your mouth.

“I keep thinking about you like this - looking up at me.” He was taking in everything about you - his gaze travelling the length of your body. “I don’t want to have to ask you things twice tonight. I know you’re going to be a good girl. Are you excited?”

“Yes, very excited.” You answered quickly and he smiled.

“Open your mouth for me baby, show daddy how excited you are.” He started undoing his pants and you unconsciously scooted closer to him. Everything about him lit a fire within you and the thought of his cock in your mouth was making you drool.

He was already hard, you looked up at him through your lashes; tongue out and ready.

“My pretty girl - look at you, so gorgeous like this. Mouth open ready for my cock.” He held himself in one hand while the other held your chin. You licked the bead of precum from the tip and almost moaned. “Tongue out.” He thrust into your mouth slowly- letting you get accustomed to his size, pushing a little deeper each time. You made to raise your hands but he pulled away.

“No baby, not yet, let me fuck your mouth, be good for me - get your tits out for me.” You moaned as you pulled your shirt and bra down. He groaned at the faint marks on your nipples from the last time you were together and continued.

You were so wet, you could feel your panties sticking to you. You sat there as still as you could while he repeatedly slid his cock into your mouth. He would push until he hit your throat and wait until you gagged and then pull out, until you felt the tears sliding down your cheeks. You felt depraved with his precum and your spit dripping onto your chest but the sounds he was making were worth it.

“Look at you, so fucking pretty like this baby, you’re being so good, such a good girl for me. I could cum just like this.” You moaned at his words, at his praise, at the taste of him. He switched your positions so you were standing between his spread legs on the bed. He slowly took your clothes off, kissing your stomach as he went.

“Look at that- look how wet this pretty pussy is. Is all this from having my cock in your mouth baby?” He ran his fingers along your lower lips, all pretty and glossy for him. He kept his touch feather light while he waited for a response.

“Yes, yes you make me this wet, your hands, your mouth, your cock - you.” You brought your hands up to touch his hair and he let you, his hand keeping that slow rhythm - driving you mad with want. He licked at your nipples again while you stood there, steadily gripping his hair tighter and tighter. He pulled away momentarily to take the rest of his clothes off, and when he was done you walked over to him again but before you could mount him he got up and walked around to the side of the bed facing a full length mirror.

You made to straddle him but he stopped you, turning you so you faced away from him; he wanted you to see yourself.

“Look at you, look at how pretty you look. You’re going to watch as Daddy fucks you. We’re both going to watch you bounce on my cock.” He kissed your hip, and bit at your asscheek playfully. You swallowed hard, thinking back to Charlie and knew he never would have thought of this.

He pulled you down and guided himself into your soaked center- the stretch of him making you groan and flutter around him. He spread your legs with his knees, you could see where you were joined in the mirror and the vision of you like that was dizzying. You could hardly recognize yourself like this, your skin was flushed, lips parted, hair dishevelled. You could still see your spit on your chest - you gasped when he bucked up.

“Look how well you take me? Look how well you're taking my cock, does it feel good? Do you like watching?” He moved his hands from their steady grip at your hips, up to grab your tits.

“Yes - god yes Daddy, it feels so good.” You were unhinged. Feeling his cock splitting you open was one thing, seeing it disappear into your body brought the whole thing to another level.

“My best girl, this is my pussy. Mine.” His movements were getting frantic and you couldn’t help but moan, your slick soaking his lap at his words. “Say it, tell me it’s mine.” He brought one hand down to rub perfect little circles at your clit and your climax raced up to hit you. You came with a god yes and he stilled his movements. Your cunt squeezing him so tightly he could barely move. He stood up quickly and put your hands up against the mirror without pulling out.

“Hold still for me, I want you to watch yourself get fucked.” You moaned, you were so wet the sounds were obscene, a wet slap against your ass. It was so dirty, the way he grabbed at you. The way he held your shoulder so he could fuck you harder than you’d ever been fucked and it was too much. You felt on the verge of tears at the intensity but he kept going, until you felt him cum inside you. Felt him dripping out of you and onto that lush carpet.

You couldn’t remember how many times he’d made you cum. All you knew was you were tired, your body spent, your cunt was sore, your tits were sore - your muscles. Everything - but still he wanted more.

He pulled you into the shower to wash your combined pleasure off, but he coaxed more pleasure out of you with his fingers as the water soothed you slightly.

You laid in his bed, maybe even in Carol’s spot with his head between your thighs. He told you how good your pussy tasted, how he owned it; and he did.

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

*let me know if you don't want to be tagged in all things Pedro*

As always - thanks to you my angels for letting me send random passages and long pieces of writing for your opinions lol - I literally wouldn't post without you. @foli-vora 💖@frannyzooey 💖 @mouthymandalorian💖

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[fatefulfaerie]

Mistletoe

December OTP prompt #18/31 (I’m behinddddd)

“Miss Valkyrie,” Ozpin said, greeting the pair of students approaching him. “Mr. Ren. Please sit down.”

Professor Ozpin’s hands were clasped on his desk, which was just sheer enough to expose working cogs underneath. Like clockwork, the clicks matched those of the larger cogs on the walls and hanging off the ceiling. Whether for function or decoration, Beacon students did not know, but it was certainly intimidating.

“Are we in trouble?” Nora asked, Ren’s magenta eyes wondering the very same thing. Ozpin let out a laugh.

“Hardly,” Ozpin said. “In front of me I have one student with the highest marks of the semester, and another student whose strong semblance singlehandedly entered team JNPR in the upcoming tournament. Unless there is something else you would like to discuss, why don’t we talk about why I called you here?”

“Of course,” Nora said. Her hands found each other on her lap, her pink skirt flattening slightly.

“It has come to my attention that you are two of the twenty-three students who elected to stay at Beacon housing over the winter break,” Ozpin said. “Which is not a problem. There are always faculty around the school and, as you know, we host plenty of holiday events, but until those events take place things around here tend to get a bit quiet.”

“Occasionally, we will send upperclassmen on huntsman assignments during this time if they aren’t too tired from their exams,” Ozpin continued to explain, pulling out a paper from a manila file. “I understand that you two are only halfway through your freshman year, but…”

The headmaster slid the paper forward, turning it around so that it would be right-side up for Ren and Nora.

“I believe this assignment to be the exception.”

Ren and Nora read the mission report with slightly furrowed brow, silently accepting by mere interest. Ozpin of course wouldn’t assume until they consented verbally, so he went on to explain.

“You detailed in both of your applications that this was the first Grimm you ever defeated,” Ozpin said. “A rarity, as I believe no application in the history of Beacon has boasted that, perhaps only an application to be a teacher.”

“I’m assuming one has been spotted,” Ren said. Ozpin nodded.

“A Psyryn Grimm,” Ozpin confirmed. “On the Western coast, Mau Loa beach to be specific, not far from Forever Fall. It’s already killed three hunstman, so I’d like to believe that you two could get rid of it no problem, but…”

Ozpin hesitated.

“I suppose I’d like an explanation as to how two ten year olds could defeated such a ruthless and dangerous Grimm with only a wooden hammer and a small dagger.”

Nora didn’t think she could be embarrassed more as her and Ren walked back to the elevator in a dreadful silence, her cheeks still burning at how she explained the situation to the likely confused Headmaster. She told him that the Grimm takes the appearance of the person you love most to try and trick you, seduce you into drowning. The Grimm appears only near bodies of water but is extremely rare. Ozpin’s face showed no change. It was obvious he knew all that already.

Then it came.

The embarrassed insisting from both of the Beacon students that they loved each other but they didn’t love love each other. Of course not. Nonsense. Unthinkable.

They were all they had as children and so the Grimm couldn’t trick them, couldn’t convince them that any illusion was real, when they could see each other clear as day. A bonk of the head with a wooden hammer and a stab in the heart with a crude dagger was all that was needed to kill a Grimm whose strongest defense was a mind game. That was how they got noticed by the woman who would, from that day on, train them to be huntsmen, to get into Beacon Academy, and help the helpless.

They were childhood friends. That was it. They grew up together. Anything else was…was…

The elevator opened with a sheathing slide and Nora cursed under her breath the mistletoe that hung from the roof of the contraption. Must it mock her? Must it tempt her to grab her friend, her friend, by his green collar and press her lips into his.

No, she had more impulse control than that. He would think she was crazy. Nora’s heart fluttered. Gods, she wanted to. The elevator moved downwards.

She kept glancing with small twitches of her eyes at the mistletoe, then Ren, then the mistletoe. Did he know it was there? Her eyes fell on Ren, Was he thinking about it too? He showed little emotion.

Damn.

He started to look over and Nora panicked, returning her gaze to the closed doors of the elevator.

But he wasn’t looking at her, as much as she could ascertain from the corner of her eye. He was looking at the mistletoe.

“It isn’t hung,” Ren said.

“Hm,” Nora said, trying to be nonchalant.

Crap. He knew it was there. He knew it was there. He knew it was there.

“It’s growing from the ceiling,” Ren clarified…observing?...studying the mistletoe?

“Maybe it was the semblance of that one upperclassmen,” Nora suggested, not believing she was underneath a mistletoe with her crush discussing how it got there. “She can make plant grows wherever she wants. Perhaps it was accident while she was…”

Making out with her boyfriend. They both knew it. Their PDA in the Beacon hallways was disgusting. But the phrase “making out” and the word “boyrfriend” was far too much for Nora to handle without bursting into sparks.

“In the…” Nora tried to finish. “Elevator.”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Ren stepped out and headed towards the JNPR dorm room to get ready for their upcoming mission. As Nora reluctantly said goodbye to the mistletoe, she swore to herself that one day, Nora Valkyrie would have the courage to kiss Lie Ren.

[ibijau]

Jin Rusong Lives pt 13 / On AO3

Nie Huaisang investigates

“What do you mean he was taken?” Nie Huaisang snarled, tightening his grip on his disciple’s collar.

“I don't know, I was just on duty at the gate!" the man said. "They arrived and said to warn you right away while they get checked by Nie Zhilan, I don’t know what happened! They just told me he’s gone, and Jin Yixin too.”

Nie Huaisang pushed the man out of the way and ran toward the infirmary. He thought he heard Lan Xichen call his name, but ignored it, filled with terror over Jin Rusong’s fate.

He should never have allowed the child to leave the Unclean Realm, not even under surveillance, not even to a place so close. Jin Guangyao had left too many enemies behind them, and most of those didn’t have Nie Huaisang’s fondness for his son. Why should they? Jin Guangyao had ordered entire sects killed, people had lost sons, daughters, grandchildren, it was only natural they'd want the same to happen to their enemy's child. Nie Huaisang was the last person with a right to blame others for their dreams of revenge, and yet in this case, he could not allow it. 

Jin Rusong was family, just as surely as his brother, or his sect, or even Lan Xichen. They were all his and he would set the world on fire if anything happened to that child.

On the way to the infirmary, Nie Huaisang spotted Nie Funyu on the training ground. His first disciple looked surprised at first, then concerned when Nie Huaisang barked that lessons for the day were cancelled. He was a smart man though, and when his sect leader ordered that the distress signal Wen Ning had left them be used immediately, Nie Funyu asked no question and ran to obey.

There were four men in the infirmary when Nie Huaisang got there, as well as Nie Zhilan who had a severe look on her face. The first thing that came to Nie Huaisang’s mind when he saw those men was that they were not, and by far, the strongest cultivators to be found in the Unclean Realm. They were good, friendly people, and as large as most Nie disciples were, but their skill was nothing spectacular. Of course, it was Nie Huaisang’s own fault if Jin Yixin hadn’t picked anyone more capable to come with her and her student. If he hadn’t been so distracted, he’d have told her exactly who to take with her instead of leaving that to her own judgement. How could she have known who to trust, when she'd mixed so little with others?

Out of those four men, Qian Zhixian was the one in best shape, though he still had a number of bruises, and appeared to have trouble with one elbow. The others were more seriously injured, with one at least having a bleeding gash on his forehead, and another whose leg might have been broken. Qian Zhixian gave an awkward, one handed bow to his sect leader, and dared not meet Nie Huaisang’s eyes.

“Zongzhu, we have failed you.”

“You have. What happened?”

All four men winced at his tone, but Qian Zhixian started explaining. Everything had gone well at first, they’d reached that little field without trouble, and Jin Yixin had started her lesson. At one point, she had asked the four Nie disciples to walk a little further away, so she could explain certain things that pertained to the Jin sect’s particular way of cultivating. They’d done so without question, respecting the need for secrecy in these things, and had spread out in the field so they could continue keeping an eye on every direction.

As far as they could tell, all four of them had been attacked at the same time, though they were not quite sure who, or what, had attacked them, their opponents shrouded in dark mist to hide their identity. The fight had been too hard for them, and they all went down with shameful speed, losing consciousness for a while. Qian Zhixian had been the first to wake up again, since he hadn’t been hit quite as hard, and he’d quickly woken up his companions as well.

“We’d have sent a signal,” Qian Zhixian said when Nie Huaisang’s glare intensified, “but whoever ambushed us took them from us. So we came back as fast as we could, and gave the alert.”

“What about Jin Yixin? Where was she while you were fighting?”

“We don’t know. Since she was gone too, we think maybe she tried to protect the little boy, and whoever took him had to take her too.”

“Hm. When Nie Zhilan is done healing you, report to Nie Funyu for punishment,” Nie Huaisang ordered. “I will not be disappointed again. Did you look around at all for any clues before returning here?”

“We thought it was more important to give the alarm, zongzhu.”

Nie Huaisang cursed. If he’d been there, he would have sent one man to raise the alarm, and asked the others to search their surroundings, in case whoever took Jin Rusong had left some traces of their identity. Not that he thought those four were the sort who would have noticed anything. Good, kind men, but hardly sharp. If he’d been there, if he hadn’t stupidly trusted others…

“I’ll deal with you four later,” Nie Huaisang decided. “If you remember anything of importance, send someone to warn me. I’m going to inspect that field myself.”

Without another look at his disciples, he stormed out of the infirmary.

That was why he’d worked alone all these years. There were good people in his sect, loyal and strong and most of them kind, but they just weren’t cut out for the sort of world that Jin Guangyao had created, the world they were still dealing with. Everyone around him was just too honest, and stupidly assumed that others were as well. Honesty was all nice and well, but Nie Huaisang couldn’t count on people who didn’t even think to…

“Huaisang!” Lan Xichen called, running up to him just as he was about to reach the main gate. He was breathless and pale, as if the news had undone what several weeks of rest had restored of his health.

“He’s disappeared,” Nie Huaisang coldly said when Lan Xichen had reached him. “Jin Yixin too. I’m going to see if I find any clues.”

Lan Xichen startled, but nodded.

“I’m coming too.”

“In your state?” Nie Huaisang sneered. “What good will you be? It’s my fault if this happened, I’ll deal with it. Go rest, I can do this on my own.”

Lan Xichen grew paler yet, but when Nie Huaisang tried to move, Lan Xichen caught him by the wrist with surprising strength for a man looking so exhausted.

“I’m coming too. If you’re responsible, then so am I. If you’re going to look for him, so am I.”

“That’s not…”

“Don’t push me away again,” Lan Xichen pleaded, tightening his grip. “You don’t have to do it alone this time.”

Years of habit screamed in Nie Huaisang’s mind, telling him not to rely on others, not to get anyone involved in his business, least of all Lan Xichen whose honesty and determination to do things properly could only lead to disaster.

But Lan Xichen was right there, just as worried about what had happened to Jin Rusong, eager to help get their little boy back. And he was theirs now, at least for the time being. Their child, in danger.

Of course Nie Huaisang couldn’t do that alone.

“Then let’s go,” Nie Huaisang said, freeing his wrist so he could hold Lan Xichen’s hand and give him support as they left the Unclean Realm. 

-

Just as Nie Huaisang remembered, the field mentioned by Jin Yixin was quite close to the Unclean Realm, and visible from its walls. The attack might have been noticed if patrols had been more frequent, which told him he’d need to do something about that.

In Nie Mingjue’s days, the walls would have been guarded constantly, in all directions. In Nie Mingjue’s days, something like this could never have happened. 

“There are signs of struggle here,” Wen Ning noted quietly. “Not very strong ones, but it's there anyway, look..”

He had joined them as they were walking toward the field, explaining that he’d sent Lan Sizhui to warn Jin Rulan there was a problem as soon as they’d seen the signal. Hopefully, both boys would be there by morning.

It would not be pleasant to explain to Jin Rulan what had happened, nor what Nie Huaisang was starting to suspect about the situation. But he wouldn't throw accusations until he was sure of himself. The last thing they needed after such a mess was a diplomatic incident.

“There are only those weak signs,” Nie Huaisang remarked, coming closer to Wen Ning to look again. “Jin Rusong, no doubt. Whatever happened, he did not wish to go. But as for Jin Yixin…”

There was no sign of serious fighting in the spot where Jin Yixin and Jin Rusong would have stood when the attack occurred. Aside from the grass being slightly flattened in two places, leaving indents too small to have come from anyone but Jin Rusong, nothing was amiss. Odd, when she'd more than proven she was a very strong fighter.

“They might have knocked her unconscious right away,” Lan Xichen suggested, sitting on a rock, the walk to the field having been a little too much for him.

Nie Huaisang threw him a look. Lan Xichen grimaced, and shook his head.

“I also find it unlikely,” he admitted. “Unless they neutralised her in such a manner that she couldn't fight them off at all, and yet didn't fall either… But if she wasn't attacked, then it means she allowed all this to happen, and either ran away on her own or left with the kidnappers. Why would she do that? Didn’t you say that Jin Rulan vouched for her?”

“People’s trust can be misplaced,” Nie Huaisang retorted bitterly. “And I didn’t get to know her well enough to make an opinion regarding her personality. She made no effort to mix with us, and I was too preoccupied by other matters to go against her wishes. I should have seen something was strange! I should have guessed, there must have been signs…”

With some effort, Lan Xichen rose from his improvised seat and went to join the other two.

“I shouldn’t have let them come here today,” Nie Huaisang said while Lan Xichen took his hand. “I should have been more careful. To make a mistake like that…”

“It’s probably not that bad,” Wen Ning said. “They could have killed him, but they just kidnapped him. Whoever took him might just want to use him as a bargaining chip against you or Jin Rulan.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you think,” Nie Huaisang snapped.

“It should be. A hostage can be freed, a corpse can’t be saved,” Wen Ning pointed out. Then, remembering his own situation, he sheepishly added: “Not usually, anyway.”

Nie Huaisang felt Lan Xichen shiver, while he thought he might faint, clutching too hard at each other's hand, both thinking of the last time Jin Rusong had gone missing. 

It had only been a very short while back then, and he'd been in Jinlin Tai with his family, all of his father's sect, as well as some prestigious guests. Nie Huaisang remembered that nobody had been particularly worried when they realised they hadn't seen the little boy in a while and started looking for him. He couldn't have gone very far, they'd all thought, and with so many people present, he'd be spotted soon. 

They'd been right. They'd found his body very quickly, and very near. Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen had been close by when Qin Su had screamed, and they'd seen that little boy they loved so much, lifeless on the floor of a small room near the hall where they'd been having a banquet. 

They'd all been drinking and laughing, while he died alone. 

Nie Huaisang could not go through that again. It would kill him if it happened again, and under his watch this time. 

"It's getting dark, you two won't be able to do much," Wen Ning remarked. "Go back inside, get some rest. I'll continue looking around in case they left some traces while escaping." 

It was the sensible thing to do, but Nie Huaisang had half a mind to keep looking as well. It just didn't feel right to merely go sleep, not when poor Jin Rusong was among strangers and likely terrified. 

If he had been alone, Nie Huaisang would have continued looking too. But Lan Xichen was there as well, shaken by the shock of that incident, still not fully recovered from his too harsh seclusion. If Nie Huaisang did not care about himself, he worried about Lan Xichen's well-being, and he knew the other man would refuse to return to the Unclean Realm alone. 

That either of them could sleep seemed unlikely, but if they managed to rest they would be of more use, should morning bring any news. 

-

After threats from Nie Zhilan, Lan Xichen reluctantly took some medicine to help him catch some sleep. Nie Zhilan was furious at him for exerting himself beyond what she'd allowed, and equally angry at Nie Huaisang for not preventing it. As Lan Xichen drifted to sleep, in Nie Huaisang’s bed rather than his own so he could be reached quicker if something happened, Nie Zhilan threatened to force feed her sect leader that same medicine as punishment, only dropping the matter when he made it clear he was in no mood for a playful argument. Nie Huaisang even managed to obtain a different medicine to wake Lan Xichen up, in case the first one had not naturally worn off by the time Jin Rulan and Lan Sizhui arrived. 

In the end, it was not necessary. Shortly after Lan Xichen woke up on his own, the two young men were directed to Nie Huaisang's private quarters. 

"You were supposed to look after him!" Jin Rulan exploded as he rushed inside the room. "And now your disciples tell me Rusong's been kidnapped?" 

Coming in after him, Lan Sizhui looked calmer, but equally unhappy. He frowned at the sight of Lan Xichen still laying in Nie Huaisang’s bed, and that hint of judgment, combined with the exhaustion of a sleepless night, and the guilt of failure, got the better of Nie Huaisang. 

"I was supposed to look after him, and Jin zongzhu was supposed to send a trustworthy teacher!" he snapped. "Every sign indicates that Jin Yixin helped his kidnappers, and is probably hiding with them right now." 

"She'd never do that!" Jin Rusong retorted. "Jin Yixin is a well respected elder! Uncle Jiang and me checked her background carefully before selecting her! She's always dedicated herself to teaching, never meddled with politics if she could avoid it. And she had a very good relationship with Qin Su, so she wouldn't hurt her son."

"You'd be surprised what people would do to their friends." 

"They weren't just friends! Jin Yixin and Qin Su are cousins, so she's family, she could never hurt Rusong." 

"I think Jin Guangyao proved well enough that family… wait, cousins ?"

Arms crossed on his chest, Jin Rulan nodded firmly while Nie Huaisang stared, too tired to make sense of that new revelation.

"Something close to that anyway,” Jin Rulan explain. “I think she might actually be Qin Cangye's cousin? But they're related anyway. I'd forgotten about it when we thought of asking her, but she told us she'd be happy to help her family, so obviously she can't have…" 

"Jin Rulan, you're an idiot," Nie Huaisang cut him. "And I'm an imbecile. Qin Cangye! Of course!" 

Lan Xichen slowly sat up on the bed, still groggy from the medicine he’d taken but looking agitated by the news.

"Did anyone warn him about Rusong?" he slurred. 

"I didn't think it concerned him," Jin Rulan said. "Rusong isn't his real grandson, is he? Uncle Jiang agreed, too." 

"You were raised in Lanling, so I'll excuse you for being stupid about family," Nie Huaisang said, starting to pace the room. "But your uncle should have known better, and me as well. Qin Cangye is a proud man, and he’s refused to believe what was revealed about his wife. Of course he’d do something if he learned Rusong is alive!”

Nie Huaisang stopped his pacing, and cursed. That was another reason he’d worked alone all these years. He was too sentimental. Having people he loved close-by made him distracted and stupid. If Jin Rusong hadn’t been living with him, Nie Huaisang would have been less emotional in the instance of a disappearance, and might have guessed right away that the Qin sect could be involved. If Lan Xichen hadn’t been there, he wouldn’t have been so careless. Emotions made him weaker, and impulsive to the point of stupidity.

“Qin Cangye is an honest man,” Lan Xichen softly pointed out. “He rarely visited Jinlin Tai because he had a dislike of Jin Guangyao, but I think he was very fond of his grandson. If he has Rusong, at least we know he’s safe.”

“Qin Cangye is a decent enough man, but we can’t be sure he’s the one who orchestrated this,” Nie Huaisang retorted. “His sons might be less than enthusiastic at the news that Jin Rusong is alive. They'd have preferred to see him dead rather than have a living proof of their mother's shame. And if his grandfather insists on treating him as family, then he’ll get a share of inheritance someday. After such a miracle, he might even get preferential treatment over Qin Cangye’s other grandchildren, just because he had the good luck to survive. The Qin sect can be just as cut-throat as Lanling Jin when there’s money involved.”

“I’m right here!” Jin Ling complained.

Nie Huaisang turned to glare at him.

“You are, and I’m furious at you! You should have told me Jin Yixin was related to the Qin!”

“I didn’t think it mattered.”

“You didn’t think at all!” Nie Huaisang exploded. “You didn’t think when you decided to heal Jin Rusong and revive him! You didn’t think when you let him wake up among strangers, without a single familiar face to comfort him! You didn’t think when you sent him here, and you certainly didn’t think when you trusted that woman! And now Rusong could be in danger, he could come to great harm, he could die again, and I… I can’t… If I have to bury him again…”

A loud sob wracked through his body, leaving him breathless. He could still see Jin Rusong, lifeless and forced to die alone, still see his tomb so small and plain for having died too young. He’d burned incense for that child, and paper toys as well so he wouldn't get bored in the afterlife. He’d pitied Jin Guangyao when he’d thought it impossible to ever do that again, before hating him with renewed passion when he’d thought the man had killed his son. He’d missed Jin Rusong, and if he had to start missing him again…

Nie Huaisang hadn’t even realised that he’d fallen to his knees, not until Lan Xichen came to sit next to him and pulled him in his arms, holding him too tight.

“Nothing will happen to him this time,” Lan Xichen said while Nie Huaisang sobbed against his shoulder. “We’re going to make sure he’s safe, all of us. Do you hear me?” 

Nie Huaisang managed to nod, his tears already calming thanks to Lan Xichen’s soothing presence.

“You and Jin zongzhu are going to Laoling,” Lan Xichen continued. “If I were better, I’d go too, but there’s too much risk that I’ll be unwell and create more problems. So I’ll stay here, and help Nie Funyu if some news reach us, or if Wen Qiongling finds something.”

He paused, and looked at the two young men standing near them.

“Sizhui, how tired are you?”

“I can fly with them to Laoling, zongzhu,” Lan Sizhui immediately replied.

“And if I ask you to go to Yunmeng?” Lan Xichen asked. “I understand that Jiang Wanyin considers himself involved in the wellbeing of Jin Rusong, so he should be told what has happened. If nothing else, his reputation might scare the kidnappers into returning him to us. Everyone knows it is unwise to cross Sandu Shengshou, and he's sure to make a racket once he's aware of this.”

Lan Sizhui sighed at that request, clearly tired by his overnight trip to Lanling, but still nodded and bowed to his sect leader. Calming down at last, Nie Huaisang felt some pity for the young man, and some amount of doubt as well.

"I can send one of my disciples," he offered. “I'm sure I can find a fast flyer.”

"Is there anyone you trust enough for such a mission?" Lan Xichen countered. "Aside from Nie Funyu, who will need to hold the fort while you're gone?" 

"No, I suppose not." 

"I trust Lan Sizhui, and Jiang zongzhu knows him and will listen to him. Can that be enough for you?" 

It wasn't, not quite. Lan Xichen's trust had been misplaced before. But that Lan Sizhui boy was also dear to Lan Wangji, who wouldn't have wasted his affection on someone who wasn't righteous. 

Besides, Nie Huaisang didn't think that Jiang Cheng could be all that helpful, so ultimately it didn't really matter. 

"Fine, send him to Yunmeng," Nie Huaisang agreed, feeling guilty that he wasn't more trusting. But if Lan Xichen noticed his lack of enthusiasm, he said nothing, apparently satisfied that Nie Huaisang would allow this at all. 

With this course of action decided, things moved fast. Nie Funyu was informed of everything, while a light collation was served to everyone. As soon as they were done eating, Jin Rulan and Nie Huaisang left together in direction of Laoling, only taking a pair of Nie disciples with them in case it came to a fight. 

It felt like a longer flight than it was. Nobody would speak, Jin Rulan because he was tired, Nie Huaisang because even something this simple required great focus on his part. 

For once, his low cultivation was on his side. If he'd been able to fly his sabre more easily, Nie Huaisang's thoughts would have drifted to dark memories and pointless worries. Even like that, unwanted images of Jin Rusong's corpse, of the child alone and terrified, still plagued him and threatened to break his concentration more than once. 

When at last they approached the home of Laoling Qin, Nie Huaisang suggested that they try to fly over the sect's dwellings to see if they spotted anything unusual. It was a breach of decorum to spy that way, but Nie Huaisang had learned to be polite only when it suited him, and Jin Rulan was easily convinced. In spite of the errors the young man had made in this whole affair, Nie Huaisang found himself thinking that he liked Jin Rulan, if only because they both loved Jin Rusong. 

When they flew over Laoling Qin, Nie Huaisang did not expect to see much. It would have been foolish to kidnap Jin Rusong and let him wander around for all to see. If it had been him doing this, he'd have taken the little boy somewhere secluded, at least for a few days. If it had been him... And yet when Jin Rulan cried out and pointed down at a tiny shape far below them, Nie Huaisang nearly fainted when he too noticed a small dark green shape among all those wearing Qin colours. 

Without thinking, Nie Huaisang angled his sabre down, descending toward the inner courtyard of that house at greater speed than was wise for such a weak flyer. He only barely managed to avoid crashing and stumbled off his sabre without grace, while Jin Rulan landed just behind him with far more control. 

Around them, a number of Qin disciples, after recovering from the surprise of that intrusion, drew their swords, ready for a fight. Nie Huaisang paid them no mind, all his attention on three figures ahead of him. One was a man well into his seventies, though excellent cultivation made him look barely any older than Nie Huaisang, who looked more annoyed than surprised or angry at this invasion. Next to Qin Cangye stood Jin Yixin, who had changed out of the Jin robes she'd worn during her stay in the Unclean Realm, now favouring Qin colours. And half hidden behind her legs was Jin Rusong, an expression of terror on his face. 

Seeing the little boy so scared, Nie Huaisang acted without thinking. He took one step toward the child, determined to scoop him up in his arms and take him home. But seeing him approach, Jin Rusong clung harder to Jin Yixin's legs, and screamed. 

“Don’t!” Jin Rusong cried out. “I don’t want to see you! You’re bad, uncle Nie! You’re bad and you killed mommy and daddy!”

[solomonish]

Love is Just a Feeling I Do Not Need (Lucifer x Reader)

Even if this dream isn’t yours, just keep dreaming it.

based off of this song.

ao3 link: here!

Ah, don't you know all this shit is annoying me It's not my act and it's driving me crazy That gaze you're giving me, that voice and that face I see Ah, don't you know? I hate them so-o-o

Though Lucifer was normally a fan of reliability and structure, this was a routine he wouldn’t mind going on without.

Every Thursday, sometime between the hours of 5 and 6 o’clock, you and Mammon would find yourselves shuffling nervously in front of his desk, shoulders hunched in anticipation for the verbal lashing you were about to receive. Most often than not, he’d direct his frustration towards Mammon, saving the gentler reprimands for you. It isn’t that he intended to go easy on you - if anything, he truly thought you could do with a little more firm punishment - but you normally got roped into Mammon’s schemes in the middle of trying to stop them. It was a noble, yet foolish, effort, and forcing yourself through the same vicious cycle seemed punishment enough for your naivety.

If ever there was a chance at levelling with you, Lucifer would hope you’d agree that receiving such a punishment was him was a blessing in disguise. He never lacked in the discipline department, but compared to the types of demons out there that weren’t bound by honor or loyalty and would love to take a bite out of you, his lectures were hardly anything to complain about. Though you’d furrow your brows or glower at him every now and then, it was your sweetness that got you into your messes and it was what allowed those transgressions to pass. He could tell that, as burdensome as you clearly thought he was in these moments, you never intended to interrupt his work or irk him beyond repair.

However, even the sweetest of fruits could rot if left on the table for long enough, and you were no different.

Lucifer had hoped that you might be a good influence on Mammon, or at least teach him a little bit of responsibility, but it seemed the influencing was happening the other way around. You got braver with your challenging looks and quips of defiance, only pushing the boundaries further the longer you were in the devildom. Perhaps, in his effort to allow you to ruminate on your actions yourself, he had spoiled you, for you were certainly acting far out of the bounds of what was appropriate for your situation. Not only did you seem to find your consistent troublemaking a persistent problem that needed fixing, but you also thought that, in a house filled with some of the most powerful demons in the realm, you found it a wise decision to directly challenge him, the oldest, the one most capable of hurting you. Lucifer wasn’t known for his tendency to hold back his anger or his punishments, and exchange students didn’t exactly have the privilege of diplomatic immunity.

Even worse, when he told you as much, all you had to say for yourself was, "You know, you don't have to put on this authoritative act for every little thing just to earn my respect."

Even worse for you, you had a lopsided smile that you couldn't repress, one full of arrogance and challenging him directly. He clenched tighter onto his desk, not quite sending spindling fractures through the wood but hearing it creak in protest all the same. Almost immediately, that cocky grin slipped off your face and you murmured an apology, lowering your head in submission in the hopes he would only continue his lecture and not add on to the punishment.

If the work slotted into his day had been any less, he would have come up with some sort of punishment for you. Your sudden cowardice was not enough to force his pride to keel. But his workload was already too immense to be dealing with a human’s daring - stupid - display of defiance, so he waved you off shortly after and stewed over his reports.

Lucifer didn’t miss the way you practically scurried out of his office, nor could he block out the harsh whispers outside his door as Mammon fussed over you. For a brief moment, he figured that he should call you back, give you a fitting punishment for your continued antics and save the future version of himself from these headaches. However, he knew that it’d only breed harsher animosity within you, and you would only work harder to annoy him. At the mere thought, his headache returned, and he focused on the paper on the desk in his attempt to block out the pain.

Whether it was due to your tendency to attract danger or his own tendency to micromanage once given a job (and dedicated to his task to assist in the exchange program he was), Lucifer found himself keeping an eye on you whenever he could. Oftentimes, he was out of your range, working in his office or assisting Diavolo wherever he may be in the expansive school. Even during class, when he wasn’t pulled aside to help Diavolo, he was in some of the most advanced classes in the school, all far above your level as a human thrown into an unfamiliar realm. That was one of the reasons he assigned you as Mammon’s responsibility - even though he did know, deep down, that his brother would rise to the occasion, he was also the only brother in a few of the lower level classes you had. That was a thought he didn’t dare linger on for too long, lest he feel another flare of anger build up.

Still, there were moments when he passed you in the hall, or beckoned you to follow him into his office to smooth over some administrative details regarding your exchange student status in the Devildom. Each time you turned your back, he found himself watching you leave, as if his gaze alone was enough to send you safely on your own. Nobody caught him staring - and if they did, they had the wisdom to pretend they didn’t. Yet you were human in every aspect of the word, tactless, weak and unwise, and when you caught his gaze - which he hated to admit had happened, and hated even more to count exactly how many times it happened - you smiled at him kindly. Those times, you weren’t planning anything or hoping to annoy him. You were merely treating him like a friend, giving him a silent greeting when you knew he wouldn’t make his way over to you to meet you properly.

Treating him like a friend...treating him with as much familiarity as you did his brothers? The thought insulted him. If you weren’t afraid of him, he would have to amend that quickly. Until he could see the respect in your gaze, and until he could be certain you feared him how he wanted you to, he loathed that stupid grin on your face as much it made his stomach churn.

It isn't fate or a miracle that brought us here Expecting nothing, it all remains so unclear Since I don't mind if you aren't really the best I'm sure that we'll be fine Come and hold me tight

Weeks and months did nothing to quell your troublesome nature. If anything, the more familiar you found yourself with your surroundings, the more you tried to bend the rules until they broke. Lucifer was aware of all of your antics - at least, he certainly hoped there weren’t any he was missing, because then he’d wonder if your feeble human body could handle all of that activity. Still, Lucifer was a man who knew how to pick his battles, no matter what his behavior with his brothers may say. More often than not, he warned against the stupid ideas he could see brewing in your mind, figuring that if there was no stopping you he could at least instill you with the proper sense of caution.

If he sat too long on the thought of how much trouble you really did cause, the only thought in his mind screamed the audacity! What kind of entitlement did you think you had? How could one human decide this realm was theirs to meddle with?

It was infuriating how much you managed to get wrapped up in, despite your inexperience. Perhaps it was that inexperience that had you scrambling about the Devildom like a new, untrained puppy that insisted on chewing everybody’s shoes? (This is why Lucifer never allowed pets, he realized. If his brothers couldn’t control a creature they could communicate with, how could they control an animal?) Maybe you assumed that being under the care of the seven demon lords meant you had some sort of immunity to the consequences of your antics. But being under their care did not mean they cared for you, and it was time that you realized just how lucky it was that you managed to survive this long.

Brash as it may sound, you weren’t anything special. At best, you were extraordinarily lucky (or unlucky, depending on how you enjoyed the exchange program); one human chosen out of billions. You had no standing here, not one of chosen status, no power or understanding of the magic that ruled the world around them.

It did work in your favor, if only a little bit. At least this way, Lucifer had no expectations of you coming in, so your disruptive behavior was no more disappointing than was to be expected. He had no image of you in his mind, nothing for you to contradict. It’s not as if you really cared what he thought, but it sure saved him the bother of reconciling his mental image with the unfortunate reality you were. Of course, that also meant that he didn’t always know what kind of trouble you were about to stir up, just that you would definitely stir up some trouble.

It isn’t until he hears a loud crash and your voice among the startled yelps that he realizes how much time he took from his reports to reflect on you.

Or rather….on your behavior.

Love is just a feeling I do not need I can't handle it so I'll go on tirelessly Close your eyes and feel me breathe down your neck Even if this dream isn't yours, just keep dreaming it

Yes, this was the best solution.

He noticed the way your shoulder tensed when you heard his footsteps. Have you learned the sound of his footsteps already? How cute.

You were sitting at a table in the library with Satan standing not too far away. Lucifer remembered Mammon begging someone to be your escort home so he could take care of some business with the witches, and after some arguing and a firm interruption by yours truly, Satan was tasked with bringing you home safely. Of course, he had to stop in the school library first - some human wasn’t going to force him to change his plans. You had the wisdom to take out an assignment to work on, clearly one of the easier ones that wouldn’t be too disturbed if you stopped in the middle when Satan was prepared to leave.

Lucifer didn’t plan on stopping in the library, but Diavolo was stuck in a separate meeting and he happened to be walking by, so why shouldn’t he check on the human in his charge?

He approached you with quiet, even steps, enjoying the way you went stiff as soon as he was near enough to start speaking to you. You looked to be expecting that, though, and he just couldn’t have that. No, instead he stepped directly behind your chair, placing one hand on the back of it so his gloved knuckles barely brushed against your shoulder. Bending at the waist, he leaned down so his chin almost touched your other shoulder, his breath ghosting your ear as he peered down at the paper in front of you.

“I see you’re taking your duties here in the Devildom seriously for once,” He started, his voice almost a deep purr. “Diavolo will be pleased to hear this report.”

You were fighting a shiver at the sound of his voice alone. He knew that you knew that he could feel the way you held back your shiver. That probably pleased him more than if you had actually done it.

“U-uh, yeah,” You stammered, fiddling with your pencil. “I’m just...trying to get some work done.”

He hummed, looking over your answers and taking his sweet time doing so. The longer he remained leaning by your side, the more he could hear your breath shallowing. Even if he was in charge of your safety, that didn’t mean he couldn’t still have a little bit of fun with the human that had a penchant for having too much fun with him.

Before you could swat him away, he quickly straightened himself out and patted your shoulder. Satan had returned by that point, just rounding the corner of a bookshelf and narrowing his eyes the moment he saw Lucifer. A second later, his eyes drifted down to you and he furrowed his eyebrows - clearly, Lucifer had affected you much more than he could see, and the thought made him preen himself on the inside.

“I trust you’ll keep up the good work. Keep an eye on them, Satan.”

His cold demeanor was back, and neither of you had anything to say about it. How joyful things turned out to be.

Much to your chagrin, Lucifer was a fast learner, and he took to flustering you just enough to keep you sedated when he felt you’d cause trouble. At first, all it took was a little invasion of your personal space, a targeted breath or a pat on the shoulder, all things you could easily brush off as just him trying to communicate a point the way humans do. After a while, you built up a feeble tolerance that he could send toppling down again by switching those pats to gentle strokes. He might be getting friendly with you, but you never made any attempt to push him away.

He didn’t have any ulterior motives. He could justify himself by saying this was the only way to keep you under control. Lucifer may not have been the avatar of lust, but he was never one to be shown up by his brothers. Seduction was an art form he had mastered long ago, and even if he wasn’t purposely intending to bed you, he was a maestro at using his skills to affect you. Besides, the faces you made and the way you flustered yourself when he was even in the same room as you was enough to encourage him to keep going.

It didn’t matter that, after a while, Mammon had convinced you to get back into his schemes. It didn’t matter that when Lucifer asked you sly questions about finishing your work, you had some response about needing to have time to make his life even harder.

There was no harm in trying to keep you charmed, was there? Not when you seemed to be enjoying it so.

It's no use to just regret all night long So instead of mourning why don't you take me along? Just admit that I'm the best, can't you see? Love me till I hurt oh baby, come dance the night away with me

This was a song and dance the two of you learned the steps to quickly, one that went on for much longer than it had any right to. This was a fact you realized when it, quite literally, culminated in a dance.

Lucifer considered himself a master of tact, figuring that he could settle your tomfoolery once and for all with a rather serious talking to. Maybe, since this time you conversation would happen in public with the prince as a witness, you might listen and take some of his words to heart. Or, in the worst case scenario, at least he could be sure to keep your attention for long enough to get a meaningful message across.

Getting you alone was easy enough. Though you were surrounded by some of his brothers, it seemed Mammon was the only other one interested in separating you from the group and was stumbling over himself in his efforts to make it happen. Besides, even with the way you disregarded every warning he gave you, at least you learned that Lucifer only ever asks as a formality. So, he found himself leading you by the hand to the middle of the floor, placing a hand on your waist as casually as one can and mimicking the way the others moved around you.

“What is it you’re plotting with Asmo?” In order to keep the conversation between the two of you, he leaned down slightly to mutter in your ear - not close enough to raise any suspicions, but close enough that you could certainly feel just how much he had you in his grasp. Moments ago, he had already made you aware of his intentions, so the shocked expression on your face really had no right to be there. Still, he couldn’t say he didn’t find a sort of pleasure in the way he could practically hear your blood rush through your veins as you tried to keep up your facade of control. Unfortunately for the both of you, you were as easy to see through as you were frustrating.

“Let me make one thing clear,” He practically hissed, enjoying the way you shivered. “I respect my brothers’ freedom to do as they wish. However, if I ever sense that you’ve become a threat to Diavolo or us, then I will show you absolutely no mercy. Understood?”

Lucifer made sure to snake his arm around your back, holding you against him and gripping your hand with as much strength as he could without truly hurting you. He had effectively caged you in, making sure that you knew there was no escape from the way he knew things needed to be done. And you really needed to stop poking your nose into their business.

“I-I want to be good friends with all of you, Lucifer,” You answered, giving a pathetic tug to the hand in his grasp. Without responding, Lucifer narrowed his eyes at you and relaxed his grip slightly. Somehow, you proved yourself to be a bigger fool than he originally thought.

“Well, that is not what I want.”

He watched your face fall at that, and there was the strangest coil in his stomach at that reaction. What, had you genuinely thought you could just waltz into the Devildom and call the Demon Lords your pals? What would you even have to gain from that?

Before he could admonish you further, Solomon appeared from the crowd, offering you a smile that was so casual it could only be practiced. For just a moment, his eyes flickered to your waist, where Lucifer’s grip was still strong - Lucifer didn’t dare loosen up, lest Solomon think he had any shame in being “caught.”

When Solomon asked to steal you away, Lucifer obliged, sending you off with what could only be described as a warning glance. You seemed relieved to be in the hold of somebody else, and Lucifer couldn’t blame you. At least you seemed to have some common sense about you. Still, he couldn’t deny the way the coil in his stomach only got tighter.

He figured it was just a result of both human exchange students being massive headaches and did his best to brush it away.

Ah, don't you know all this shit is annoying me You're in my world now, away from reality As long as I can toy with you for just a moment Then I don't mind, if you aren't really mine

Perhaps Lucifer was a fool for thinking if he left you alone you wouldn’t fester.

You had managed to be so, so much worse than he ever expected you to be. It wasn’t enough to simply meddle in the affairs of the brothers so readily available to you - no, five demons were not enough to sate your endless need for trouble. So, in the few months you had been in the Devildom, you decided to somehow find the one brother he needed to keep hidden from you and, in the process of going against explicit orders, set Belphegor free and get yourself killed. For a moment, seeing your lifeless body in Mammon’s arms, Lucifer wasn’t sure what had thrown him off: seeing his brother free and knowing the punishment that was charging towards him fast enough that he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop it, or the mountain of paperwork that would surely come from this turn of events. Mammon’s desperate denial echoing through the entrance of their manor wasn’t exactly helping, either.

But then you did the only thing you did better than causing endless migraine for Lucifer: you fixed your mistakes and started building something better from them.

After you revealed yourself and let the brothers know that you were still alive - while also somehow airing everybody’s dirty laundry at once, something he made a note to talk to you about - he watched as somehow, slowly, his brothers looked at each other with the same appreciation they used to in the Celestial Realm, lurking just beneath the surface. Sure, there was still plenty of progress to be made, but he finally saw a fracture in the insurmountable mountain he had been facing for thousands of years - and it was all because of you.

With the churning feeling the thought brought him, he started to understand how love and hate were thought of as two sides of the same coin.

Leviathan could be found peeking out of his room slightly more often, gravitating to the room you were in with a handheld device and offering to show you what he was playing. Satan took his books out, too, sitting in the same room as you and occasionally casting what he thought were sneaky glances your way. Asmodeus insisted on spending more time with you in his own way, trying to hide the way he held your face in his hands a little longer than necessary by saying he was assessing the state of your skin. Beel seemed more open around you, occasionally dropping snacks in your lap without needing to be asked, giving you a look that seemed to both ask if you were alright and assure you that he was when you met eyes. Even Belphegor had warmed up to you, trying to sandwich himself in between you and anybody close to you or pulling you away to quieter spaces where he could nap in your presence. Lucifer watched as the unease gradually melted away from your expression with each attempt he made to get you alone, until you seemed to feel safe with him.

As usual, Mammon stayed by your side, especially in the days after your...incident. There were many times when you would sit on a couch in the common room, only for Mammon to come flying in moments later and sit so close to you he was practically on your lap. Lucifer bit his warnings for him to be careful back at least half of the time, deciding that this puppy-dog behavior at least seemed to be keeping the two of you out of trouble.

Trouble…

It only took your untimely death and a harsh reminder of just how close you had managed to get to his brothers to force him into realizing that trouble was all he ever thought you of. Lucifer couldn’t quite decipher why that left such a sour taste in his mouth. Perhaps it was the fact that since the incident with Belphegor, he had barely seen you. Honestly, he only saw you a fraction of the day compared to the amount of times he needed to usher you into his office to set you straight beforehand. As embarrassed as he was to be suffering through such...withdrawal, a long day of stress from his brothers had him summoning for you before dinner.

You only opened the door enough to squeeze yourself through, sneaking in as if he were a sleeping lion you shouldn’t dare to wake. He watched as you slowly made your way in front of his desk, fiddling with your fingers the way you did when you were nervous. Strange. As far as he knew, you hadn’t done anything wrong. He hoped that if you did, you had the wisdom to keep your mouth shut.

“You wanted to see me?” You asked in a small voice. Lucifer held you in a steady gaze, glad that Mammon decided not to follow you this time. He’d have known how much of an act this was from the get go and scold him for ‘making the move on his human.’

“Yes.” Lucifer took his sweet time shuffling through the papers on his desk, watching you through his peripheral vision. He could feel your stress levels rising as you waited for an unknown blow, watching as you subconsciously fidgeted the longer he let the silence go on. When he decided that he had teased you enough, he leaned back in his chair and said, “I merely wanted to see how our exchange student was doing.”

“H-huh?!” You asked. Indignation flashed on your face in the most wonderful display before quickly being taken over by your practiced calm facade. “O-oh, I’m fine, thanks.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Just fine?”

“Well….yeah. I’m good.”

Clearly, you weren’t one for conversation right now. With a sigh, he leaned back and thumbed through the papers on his desk again before pulling one out of the stack and placing it in front of him. Furrowing his eyebrows, he reached in his drawer and pulled out a small stack held together with a paperclip and dropped that one on top of the single sheet, holding back a smirk at the way you flinched.

“Good. Then I suppose we can get started on this paperwork about the whole accident.”

“What?!”

“Well, we still have to file an accidental death report. Or perhaps we should fill out an injury notice…? Ah, nevermind. It seems you’re up for both.”

He allowed you to turn on your heel and leave without another word. After staring at the now-empty space for a moment, he put the stack of absentee notices back in his drawer and continued on with his work.

It isn't jealousy or hate that made me act like that I'm not like her, so there's no need to get mad I know my way around this heat that we feel So don't worry, just enjoy Don't give me that look, boy!

You ran your hand down the side of your face, trying in futility to wipe the sleepiness from your mind. Sitting in the dimly lit office, you listened as Lucifer droned on about your test grade. The lecture had turned into a study session, which you appreciated, but it quickly turned back into a lecture after one too many mistakes on your part. You could see the irritation clear on his face, yet he was speaking to you as if you had just been caught plotting something treasonous against Diavolo.

You tried to huff quietly, but Lucifer’s sharp ears heard you. The stony glare he held you in woke you up instantly. “Oh, is this too boring? Perhaps that explains your performance.”

Already having been caught, you sighed. “No, Mammon has just been keeping me up lately.” It was too late in the night to think about how you accidentally ratted him out.

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed so you could only see the red seemingly glowing with the rage he was hardly holding back. Stopping the pacing he had taken up an hour ago, he turned towards you and took long strides to stand in front of the desk until he was beside his chair. You kept your sleepy gaze locked on his eyes, a silent challenge for him to back down. What would he do to the precious, fragile little human while they’re half asleep?

With a sigh, Lucifer closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, his own way of breaking the stare-off without really admitting defeat. “I should have known he had something to do with this.”

“Hey…” If Lucifer ended up punishing Mammon for your own slip-up with your grades, you’d be feeling guilty about it for weeks. “It wasn’t really his fault. I should know by now how much studying I need to do…”

“Hmph. Since this leads back to him, I suppose I have no choice. The two of you are banned from seeing each other until I can come up with a fitting punishment and study regimen to set you both straight.”

“What?” You stood up from your chair, not changing how he literally looked down on you but feeling as if you looked more imposing. “You can’t just do that!”

“I will do what I must to keep you on track, as is my responsibility.”

“You cannot forbid me from talking to your brothers. Besides, isn’t he supposed to be my guardian?”

“You have more pacts, should the need arise. If he insists on hoarding your time as he has, then-”

“Oh, is that what this is about? I didn’t expect you to be so jealous about it.” You scoffed. “Now you’re really being a Mammon.”

“Do not compare me to him in that way ever again!” He barked at you, slamming a hand down on the desk with a loud bang! That shut you up quickly, and you watched Lucifer warily in case he lost control of himself. For a brief moment, the human glamour surrounding him faded and you saw a flicker of his wings, feathers splayed out and bristled in his anger. “This study session has gotten away from us. You may turn in for the night.”

Despite his mighty anger, the time you spent with him and your inherent recklessness left you unable to cower. The longer you stayed in a stand-off, the more pointed your expression got until you were giving him the most doubtful expression he had ever seen on your face. “You know, I wouldn’t mind spending these nights with you if they didn’t always end with you yelling at me.”

As if on cue, the D.D.D. you left on the desk lit up, allowing Lucifer a glimpse of the many messages and calls left by none other than the second brother. Fighting back a grimace, he watched you snatch it up and collect your books in a hurry. Some of the papers crinkled as you shoved them into your bag, but he didn’t wince - he did play a part in your haste, after all.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out who you were going to vent to in a few minutes. Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to care, though, not when he had the distinct feeling he had ruined his chances at a goal he wasn’t aware he was trying to meet.

Love is just a feeling I do not need I can't take it so untie it as much as you please Close your eyes and stop your breath if you dare Even if this dream isn't yours, just keep dreaming it

He hadn’t intentionally softened up on you, yet he found that he took those words to heart.

After the incident in his office, you told him that you thought you’d study better on your own and improved your grade with your next test. In the weeks leading up to it, Lucifer could hardly get you to stop for him, only seeing you at dinner and when he would text you about urgent transfer student business. Even after he got word of your improved marks, he still had trouble getting to you for long enough to offer a proper congratulations. You really did prove yourself to be a ton of effort time and time again.

It wasn’t until you started to seek him out that he was able to properly communicate with you again.

You found him in the kitchen when he had dinner duty, on a rare night when he didn’t need to bribe someone to pick it up for him. He could feel your presence even with his back turned, aware of the way you leaned against the doorframe and crossed your arms. He finished chopping the ingredients on the cutting board in front of him before looking over his shoulder at you curiously.

“Need a hand?” You asked. Something in your voice was different - more confident. Lucifer could hear the challenge in it, even if the details still hadn’t made themselves known.

He gestured to the small pile of dishes in the sink, not about to turn your company away. You nodded and started to run the water, letting silence settle between you. Finding himself watching you for a few beats too long, Lucifer cleared his throat and turned his attention back to his chopped vegetables. He noticed that the second half were chopped a little more unevenly than the other pieces, and he quickly pushed them into the pan.

Clearly, you had taken a page from his book and decided to leave him in wait, biding your time before finally hitting him with your carefully chosen words. Unlike you normally were, he wasn’t on the edge of his seat, sweating in anticipation - but the longer the silence wore on, he found his patience wearing thin. Even if this performance of yours was amusing, he still found himself aggravated by just how far you thought you could push your luck.

Finally, you decided to speak up. “Have I been avoiding you these past few weeks?”

Lucifer didn’t let himself falter in stirring the pot on the stove. “I believe that’s a question only you know the answer to.”

“Hm. Well, I haven’t been meaning to.”

“Based on our last meeting, that much has been hard to tell.”

“Do you really think I’m so petty?” You turned the water on to rinse the bowl in your hands, forcing him to wait until responding.

“With so many strong personalities now bound to you in pacts, it’s hard to tell how their influence will manifest.”

You gave him a bitter laugh, shoving your hands in the water until your palms flattened out on the bottom of the sink. The warm water felt hotter on the skin on your forearms that hadn’t been able to build a tolerance to it. Even if your intent was not to start a petty argument, his intentions clearly didn’t align with yours.

“No, I think I have to solid a grasp on myself to let them do that to me.”

He said nothing, but you could hear his confident footsteps as he approached you. His gaze met yours in a silent challenge as he slid the cutting board in the water, unconsciously allowing himself to gravitate towards you. When he got too close for you, you grabbed a spatulat from the bottom of the sink and gently pressed the flat end against his chest to push him away. Lucifer glanced at his shirt, clearly miffed at the damp stripe across his chest.

“You know, Lucifer, if you want a pact with me, you just have to ask.”

For a moment, the expression on Lucifer’s face was too convoluted for you to make sense of. He certainly didn’t look caught off guard, but he also wasn’t as furious as you thought he’d be. With his eyebrows furrowed together and his gaze searching yours, you couldn’t figure out where his shock and confusion ended and his anger began. You cursed him and how he always seemed to have a grasp on what he let you know through his expressions alone.

Lucifer stood there, hoping that the confusion on your face wasn’t covering something else that would force you away from him. He couldn’t understand how you always managed to pierce through him and see directly into his mind. As he was coming to understand it, he did want a pact with you. Certainly not because he saw how close those brothers of his were to you now, though - he was not the avatar of envy, and he had nothing to be envious of, especially in regards to them - but the thought of his mark on your skin, the thought of you belonging to him in such a way was undeniably appealing.

However, every interaction with you didn’t seem to push him in the direction of ever obtaining such a relationship with you.

Quickly gathering his wits, he only scoffed and went back to his post on the other side of the kitchen. You turned towards your job, too. This time, he wasn’t the only one ruminating in stubborn silence.

I don't feel no guilt, oh, is that so wrong? Ah, instead of asking why don't you take me along? Just admit that I'm the best, now you see Love me till I hurt oh baby, come over here and set me free

Asmodeus: You won’t believe what I just found out about the succubus I was telling you about yesterday! Satan: Have you gotten to the seventeenth chapter yet? It really is the turning point, in my opinion. Leviathan: ok thx Lucifer, YOU S*CK!: Heh, yeah, that’ll be perfect. Mammon: Oi, are you even paying attention to me?!?

With a sigh, you turned your D.D.D. off without responding to the messages and tucked it back in your bag.You were already on your way to the House of Lamentation. The brothers could (and would) bother you the moment you walked through the door.

“I’ve sighed like that many times,” Lucifer said beside you, looking down at you with a polite half smile. “My brothers are hounding you again, no doubt.”

“Yeah...they’re quite...affectionate.”

“That is a word you could use,” He agreed. “Though sometimes, not the most accurate.”

You chuckled them, purposely averting your gaze. Part of Lucifer wanted to direct your attention back to him so he could watch the pretty blush that painted your cheeks as you laughed, but he kept his hands to his sides. It was so difficult anymore to know what you were thinking. The closer he got to you, the more he learned to find comfort in your presence, the more he found the pesky feeling of hope cloud his judgement and his crystal-clear vision. How could he be sure that, now that the two of you were finally on good terms, you weren’t comfortable with the relationship? It had been so long since Lucifer had to forge an entirely new relationship, and he had the world’s most troublesome (or second most troublesome, considering your competition) human to work with. Though he was never one to question his own judgement, he still couldn’t help but tsk at the sheer absurdity of the task.

“This is probably the most peaceful walk home I’ve had in a while. It’s astonishing how easy they make getting caught up in trouble on the way seem.”

“Is that why the other day you seemed so shocked when we told you the walk was only a few minutes?”

You chuckled again. “Yeah. All the detours make it seem longer.”

“Perhaps one of these days, I should take you on a detour of my own then?” When you stopped walking, he turned back to give you a sly smile. “I’m not one to be bested by my brothers, you know.”

“Wow, ruthless,” You began walking again and fiddled with your backpack strap nervously. “Maybe I should be the one to plan it, though. I’m not entirely convinced your version of a detour wouldn’t involve more paperwork.”

“Shall I be looking forward to this date, then?” Lucifer could feel the embarrassment radiating off of you. He loved to make you this flustered, so he could realign his sights while you were too preoccupied to hide behind anything. And you just so happened to be unbearably cute with your face turning red. The way you muttered ‘yes’ and dashed up the steps to the house had him preening.

Love is just a feeling I do not need I can't handle it so I'll go on tirelessly Close your eyes and feel me breathe down your neck Even if this dream isn't yours just keep dreaming it

Bit by bit, Lucifer found himself finally, finally getting closer to you without any unpleasant endings. (Well, save for the ones where one of his brothers interrupted and dragged you away, but the two of you shared a fondness for their shenanigans that made it difficult to stay mad at them.)

Or, well...staying mad at them was difficult for you/.

Lucifer wasn’t upset with his brothers, but there was a certain frustration bubbling up beneath the surface that he had to wrestle down every time he had a moment to wonder about their actions. He couldn’t blame them for wanting to spend time with you - after all, he himself was trying to make himself time in your schedule. Not only that, but the ever-approaching end of the semester was looming over them, and everyone could feel the desperate attempts to get one last bid for your affections in before you left. The whole situation was rather distracting, his far-wandering thoughts only adding to the time he spent hunched over his desk instead of out with you.

Lucifer was not a man to waste time bemoaning facts that he could not change. That did not mean he was immune from all feelings of doubt or irritation. He might have been able to concentrate if there wasn’t such a pesky thought creeping up on him the second he let his mind stray from his papers. Still, he couldn’t help the ugly sensation of being caught in a competition where he might actually be losing.

Though he had faith in your tenacity - that and your boldness were truly qualities to marvel at - Lucifer did wonder just how much you valued availability. He thought that the two of you had come to a silent agreement - that you thought alike, that you felt alike - but as much as he knew what happened beyond the door to his office, you remained the enigma.

It would be so easy if he could just get you to admit that he was the one you thought of above all the others. The desire for such a simple statement, he hid with faux aggravation at your refusal to admit such a simple task. As much as he tried to convince himself that you were hanging out with the others as a replacement for him, he knew just how much and how uniquely you valued the others.

He didn’t need to use force to get what he wanted, but he was slightly accustomed to nothing standing strong in the presence of his power. You, however, never bowed, and it grated at him how much he wanted to rightfully earn that place in your heart and how difficult it was to just get you to say it.

His thoughts distracted him from his papers, his papers distracted him from his thoughts. They all distracted him from you, aside from when he wondered if you were thinking something similar about him.

Are you really asking why you're alone? Turned your back on me and I get why you don't want more Come back, hold me, dear, love me till I scream

Your departure was approaching, and Lucifer found himself alone.

His moments not spent on work or cleaning up after his brothers were normally spent with you. Unless, of course, those moments happened in the early hours of the morning and he should be dead on his pillow.

Perhaps if he found himself graced with your presence, he wouldn’t have slept anyway. It wasn’t sleep he was chasing, after all, but you. You were the one he was vying for, even if his pursuit felt less romantic and more like running after a wild goose. No good things came easy, he told himself. He didn’t need easy.

But your longing glances were getting harder to pull away from, and the days until you left were already in the single digits. It was hard enough to steal you away for a moment, let alone enough time to lay his intentions bare and finally get what you both wanted.

He hated the thought that he had let you take the lead in the relationship in a roundabout sense, so he preoccupied himself with anger over having to do all the hard work himself.

He could list off all the reasons you would return to him, the obvious choice, for hours if asked, and even then only put a dent in the miles of options. The fact that he even considered justifying himself to anyone felt foreign, but he let his mind settle on the thought anyway. Still, it didn’t go unnoticed how you didn’t try to leave the sides of his other brothers, how nobody bothered to knock on his door anymore, too preoccupied with you. He missed you already, and he hadn’t even seen you off yet.

Lucifer knew that you’d come to him eventually. He didn’t doubt you, and he certainly didn’t doubt himself. But you had a habit of making him wait and wonder.

He was just about tired of waiting, he was tired of wondering, and he didn’t know if he could take another dream that only left him more confused than he was when he fell asleep.

Don't you ever wake up baby, keep on dreaming our dream

[razieltwelve]

Leap (Final Rose)

“You do realise that you should probably have grabbed a parachute before jumping out of the transport.”

Yang smirked at Averia. “I figured I’d let you handle the landing.”

The pink-haired girl sighed. “Really?”

Yang did her best impression of Fang’s smirk. “Saviour bullshit, go!”

“...” Averia scowled. “I should let you hit the ground.”

“As if you would.” Yang grinned. “You like me too much.” She shifted in the air and extended her arms toward Averia. “So... help a girl out?”

Averia’s eye twitched. “You’re lucky that Ruby would be sad if you died.” She wrapped her arms around Yang. “I’ll handle the landing. I don’t feel like flying.”

“Aww...”

X     X     X

The team from Beacon Junior Academy was not having a fun day. A relatively easy weeding mission that should have involved fighting only the weakest of Grimm had rapidly gone to absolute hell. Now, they were holed up in a settlement with a horde of angry Grimm outside. They’d called in for reinforcements, but they’d been told that there weren’t any qualified hunter teams in their immediate vicinity. Instead, they’d be getting two students from the Senior Academy to help them out.

Just two? They knew the people at the Senior Academy were good, but there were a lot of Grimm out there.

And then two people just fell out of the sky.

One of them landed in incredibly cool fashion while carrying the other bridal style. Straightening, the pink-haired girl set the blonde on her feet.

“Heh.” The blonde smirked. “Nothing like hitting the ground at full speed and coming off with nothing more than a scratch.”

“Try not to make a habit of it unless I’m around,” the other girl replied. She glanced toward the Junior Academy students, green eyes taking their measure in an instant. “You must be the students. Report.”

There was something distinctly professor-like in her tone of the voice, and the leader of the students, Rouge snapped to attention. “Multiple Grimm outside the settlement walls, ma’am. We’re estimating at least a hundred with at least one A tier amongst them and multiple B tiers.”

“I see.” The pink-haired girl was wearing a suit, of all things, but she wore it so naturally that Rouge couldn’t help but admire the cut and style of the garment. “And your team?”

“We’re running on empty, ma’am.” It felt odd yet fitting to address the older student as ma’am. “But we can still fight.”

“I see.” The other girl nodded. “I want you and your team to take up defensive positions on the wall. Yang and I will go over the wall. Kill any that get past us.”

“You’re just going to go over the wall?” Rouge asked.

“Yes. We could fight a defensive battle, but going over the wall and killing them all is the simplest way to deal with the problem.”

“Relax, kiddo,” Yang added. “I know we’re students at the Senior Academy, but you’re looking at two of the best. Pinky over there is number one in our year.”

It was then that Rouge put the pieces together. Pink hair, number one ranking, and the ability to fall out of the sky and not die? That had to be Averia Yun-Farron. And Yang? That had to be Yang Xiao Long. Her teammates must have drawn the same conclusions because they were all staring in a combination of shock and admiration. The number one and number five from the Third Year of the Senior Academy were both here? Awesome.

“Right!” Rouge cried. “We’ll get any that you miss!”

X     X     X

If there was one thing that Yang enjoyed, it was punching Grimm. Of course, she also enjoyed kicking Grimm, stomping on Grimm, pulverising Grimm, and, well, anything that involved killing Grimm was pretty good in her book. 

A Beowolf leapt at her, and she ducked under its claws before caving its chest in with a punch. She allowed an older Beowolf to land a strike, so her Semblance could absorb the damage. With her increased strength, she turned the older Beowolf into a bloody smear before shattering the armoured plates of an Elder Beowolf with her gauntlets and then pulverising its torso with a right cross. A kick hurled another Beowolf back, its head ripped almost clean off, before a hammer fist crushed the skull of yet another opponent.

Showing off was one thing, but the best way to deal with this many Grimm was to just get things done the simple way. Small fry like these could only win by overwhelming her, so as long as she dealt with them quickly and efficiently, they weren’t really all that dangerous.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Averia doing her best impression of a killer robot. It was almost comical watching the other girl just decapitate anything that came within reach. One head was joined by another and another and another until they were just piling up on the ground.

“Someone’s feeling lazy,” Yang shouted as she jumped over a Grimm and then smashed its spine to pieces as it skidded past her.

“Efficient is the word you’re looking for.” Averia calmly decapitated another Grimm and then turned to kick the head at an oncoming opponent. As it staggered, she removed its head as well. “And you should be happy I’m not just killing them all myself.”

“How kind of you.” Yang was well aware that Averia could have simply killed all of the Grimm the instant they arrived, but this was a chance to get some practice in, as well as a good learning opportunity for the younger students observing them. Too many of the youngsters got into trouble by trying to be too flashy against the Grimm. Her dad had always told her to keep the flashy stuff confined to sparring. Against Grimm it was always best to keep it simple and efficient. The only safe Grimm was a dead Grimm.

Averia glanced ahead. The B tier Grimm had all been slain. The only real threat remaining was the A Tier alpha elder Beowolf. “Do you want to deal with that one?”

Yang took a moment to size the alpha up. It was at least twice as large as the elder Beowolves who had been twice as large as the normal ones. And it was A tier as well. Hmmm... “Sure. I’ll get it.”

As the alpha bellowed and charged, Yang rushed forward to meet it. They met in a storm of blows. It was fast, far faster than anything its size should be. It was smart too, using its superior reach to keep her at bay while only ever exposing the most heavily armoured parts of its body. Moreover, it had clearly been watching her fight since it was firing the occasional bony spike at her to keep her from closing the distance.

Yang, though, wasn't the same fighter she’d been when she first entered Beacon Senior Academy. She was in her third year now, only a year and a half away from graduating. She’d learned more than she ever thought possible, and her skills and power had grown in leaps and bounds. Two years ago, she wouldn’t have dreamed of fighting a foe like this alone. Now? This thing was already dead. It just didn’t know it yet.

She waited for the alpha to shoot another spike before she slapped the projectile out of the air. The sudden shock was absorbed by her Semblance, and she waited for the spike to fall back toward her before punching it and firing her gauntlet at the same time.

The spike rocketed back toward the alpha, and the Grimm barely managed to dodge. Yang used that split-second to close the gap. She ducked under the Grimm’s claws and then heaved an uppercut into its belly. The blow wasn’t enough to do any real damage, but there was enough force in it to knock the Grimm off balance. That was all Yang needed.

She lunged forward and drove one fist into the Grimm’s right leg. Her Aura surged and her Semblance flexed. The blow shattered the Grimm’s leg, and it toppled onto its side. Yang spun away from the Grimm’s retaliatory strike and leapt up onto its chest. She slammed two punches into the armoured plates that covered its chest, and the sharp, angry retort of her gauntlets was accompanied by the crack of breaking bone. 

The Grimm bucked and tried to throw her off, but Yang jumped into the air. Her Aura swirled around her, a golden mantle of power, and she landed fist first on the Grimm’s exposed chest. The shockwave of the blow cratered the ground beneath the Grimm and shook the area. Enhanced by her Aura, the shotgun slugs from her gauntlets turned the Grimm’s back into one giant exit wound.

The monster groaned, and Yang darted off its chest and grabbed it by the jaw. Bigger Grimm like this could often keep fighting despite taking wounds that would have killed lesser Grimm several times over. She punched it square in the jaw, and half its skull evaporated from the attack. She hit it one more time just to be sure and then flipped clear of its collapsing body.

“Heh.” Yang smirked. “That has to be at least a nine out of ten, right?”

“Hardly.” Averia grinned. “You could have killed it at least three seconds faster if you’d severed its head instead of punching it in the jaw.”

“Spoilsport.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

Just Yang and Averia doing what they do best. As third years, they do get the occasional solo or pair mission, which is what they were doing when the call came in. It’s also not unusual for a bit of mix and matching between teams to occur if a mission calls for it.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

I also write original fiction, which you can find on Amazon here or on Audible here.

[hardygalwrites]

FanFiction.Net Link

(image source)

Game/Anime: Persona 4

Characters: Yu Narukami/Persona 4 Protagonist and Ryotaro Dojima

Synopsis: As long as the case dragged on, Dojima knew he always needed to be prepared for the possibility of another body showing up. But nothing could have prepared him for this...

Yu Narukami’s body is discovered hanging from the electrical wires at the edge of the shopping district.

Note: Originally written for Whumptober of 2020 - Day 1: Let’s Hang Out Sometime | Hanging

TW for depictions of grief and TEMPORARY character death

—

It was with a sick feeling of resignation that Dojima received the report that a body had been discovered hanging from the electrical wires at the outskirts of the shopping district. With how little progress he had been making in the serial killing case, it’s as though some part of him had been waiting for another body to show up, to remind him of how useless his efforts were proving to be.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” Dojima murmured.

Flicking his phone shut, Dojima robotically went about getting out of bed. He ended up skipping the coffee and was in his car, driving towards the scene, within five minutes. It wasn’t until he pulled up outside the slowly forming crowd of early morning civilians that he wondered if he should have made sure that Nanako would be safe on her way to school today.

Well, Yu always accompanied her partway while on his own school route. That boy really was a blessing that Dojima did not deserve. Nanako would be fine, as always. They both would.

Dojima quickly nudged his way through the crowd. It looked like Adachi was already there, surprisingly enough, conversing confidentially with a few officers. Since when had that man been so on top of things?

“Hey!” Dojima called as he approached.

The whole group immediately turned towards him, each of them looking rather alarmed.

“Have we identified the body yet?” he asked, already pulling out a cigarette in preparation for when he stepped away from all of this.

“Dojima…!”

Adachi rushed to meet him, looking strangely panicked. As he prepared to ask what the hell Adachi’s problem was, Dojima looked up at the body.

The cigarette fell from his mouth.

Dojima felt something inside him crack. Denial rushed to fill it, screaming that this could not possibly be real, that he must be seeing things. But there was no denying it.

That was Yu’s body hanging up there.

That was his nephew tangled up in the electrical wires.

That was his sister’s child, the boy he had promised to look after, the boy he had grown to love like his own son–

“What... the hell…?”

“Dojima,” Adachi said nervously, hands raised to turn the older detective away. “You shouldn’t be here–”

Dojima shoved him aside and rushed forward.

“Ow! Wait! Dojima!”

Adachi’s protests barely even registered in Dojima’s ears. He could not tear his eyes away from the sight of his nephew hanging above him, limp, unmoving. The officers that Adachi had been speaking to earlier hurried to intercept him, finally forcing Dojima to turn his gaze downward.

“What the hell happened?” Dojima demanded dangerously.

“Sir,” one of the officers started, “I don’t think–”

“I asked what the hell happened?!” Dojima snapped.

Adachi caught up to him, grabbing at his shoulder. “Dojima, wait…!”

“‘Wait’?! That’s my nephew up there!”

“I know! That’s the problem!” Adachi retorted as he struggled to pull Dojima away. “Listen, we know just as much as you do, but you have to step back…!”

“I will not step back, that’s my nephew!”

Throughout his time as a detective, Dojima had occasionally needed to hold back grieving friends or family members as their loved one was either retrieved or, under far more tragic circumstances, processed. It was an unpleasant task, often filled with screaming and tears, but it was a part of the job.

And then Chisato died, and Dojima understood - the lack of rationale, the grief, the desperation driving these people to their loved one’s side, as though somehow, by some crazy miracle, that could make everything better.

Dojima had felt it then and he felt it now as he fought against his partner’s hold. “Dammit, Adachi, let go!”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t!” Adachi shouted.

The officers present also began their attempts to hold him back. “Detective Dojima, please…!”

Dojima looked up again. He could make out Yu’s face now. The eyes were closed, facial features slack. It almost looked like the kid was sleeping. Dojima stopped fighting against Adachi and the officers. He could feel something inside him crack a little bit more.

Oh, god. What was he going to tell his sister…? What was he going to tell Nanako?

Dojima lowered his head.

Then, a shallow gasp, followed by a series of hoarse coughs. A few people in the crowd, now well formed outside the police perimeter, screamed and cried out. Dojima, along with Adachi and the officers, looked up in shock.

“Oh my god,” one of the officers gasped. “He’s alive!”

“He’s alive!” someone else echoed. “Someone get the fire department, we need to get him down now !”

Dojima could only stare. Just moments ago he had been struggling to believe that his nephew was really dead. Now, he could hardly believe his eyes as he watched that same nephew shake and cough before slowly opening his own eyes. The soft grey gaze was glazed and unfocused, and he appeared to be having trouble breathing, but there was no doubt.

Yu was alive .

“Holy shit …!” Adachi exclaimed. He began to tug at Dojima’s shoulder again, though less urgently than he had before. “Dojima, come on, we should probably step back–”

Yu groaned and started to stir in his precarious position. Dojima’s eyes widened.

“Yu, stop!” he shouted. To his relief, Yu did stop for a moment, looking no more aware of his surroundings but at least no longer moving.

“Listen to me,” Dojima continued urgently, choosing to ignore just how vulnerable he sounded. “You have to stay still, all right? We’ll get you down as soon as possible, but you have to stay still!”

He had no clue if any of his words were actually reaching the kid. Yu had stopped moving, but his eyes remained unfocused, and it looked like his breathing had picked up slightly. The breaths came out hoarse and halting. Dojima’s mind rushed with all the worst possibilities, and he turned to grab Adachi by the jacket.

“Has an ambulance been called?” he demanded.

“Y-Yes…!” Adachi confirmed. “They’ll be here soon, along with the fire department.”

The crowd was really starting to get riled up. No one was attempting to bypass the perimeter, thank god - they really did not have the manpower to hold back everyone - but they were all definitely excited. People talked to each other and shouted questions at the guarding officers. Those with photo capable cells were putting their equipment to use, and everyone was focused on the student who seemed to have just come back to life.

The area was buzzing with noise, but Dojima still managed to catch the groan that had him looking back up quickly. He cursed.

Yu’s breathing had not just picked up because he was struggling to intake oxygen, no, it was clear the kid was getting agitated. He began to stir again, legs and arm shifting in the tangle of electrical wires.

“Yu, stop!” Dojima shouted again.

There was no clear response this time. The crowd continued to buzz, and Dojima could hear the rapidly approaching sirens. Yu clenched his eyes shut with a gutteral whine, just as both the ambulance and fire department rolled in.

“Yu, listen to me!” Dojima called. “We’re getting you down! Just stay still!”

Adachi finally pulled him back, and this time, Dojima didn’t fight him.

The fire department worked quickly, sending up the ladder and one of their men to retrieve the student caught in the wires. Despite Dojima’s words, Yu still appeared deeply distressed, flinching when the fireman attempted to steady him. Dojima clenched his fists.

Dammit… Why Yu, of all people…?

The fireman was patient, speaking calmly and steadily to the agitated teen. Whatever he said must have gotten through at least a little, as Yu calmed down just enough to allow the man to pull him from the electrical wires. Dojima wondered how his nephew could be so tall and yet look so small as he was brought back down over the fireman’s shoulder.

Yu was quickly handed off to the ambulance crew, and Dojima rushed to his side.

“Yu…!”

God, he looked fine. Just like the first two victims, there wasn’t a mark on him. He was still wearing the same after-school clothes Dojima had seen him leave the house in yesterday morning. But the quick and shallow breathing, the way his eyes, more focused but still just as dazed, darted between the surrounding medical personnel like a hunted animal…

“Yu,” Dojima said again, the name coming out breathless.

Yu immediately turned his gaze towards him. “...Uncle…?” he whispered hoarsely.

“I’m here.” It was all Dojima could do not to laugh, or maybe even cry in relief. “Don’t worry, we got you.”

The grey haired teen did not appear to respond at first. He lifted his hand off the stretcher and grabbed blindly until his fingers snagged the sleeve of Dojima’s coat. It was like Dojima could actually see a light return to the kid’s eyes. A strange, cracked sound left Yu’s lips, and he tightened his grip on Dojima’s sleeve.

“Yu?” Dojima said in concern.

The one spoken to just closed his eyes, letting out that same cracked sound. It took Dojima a moment to realize that Yu was laughing, a weak but desperately happy, or perhaps desperately relieved sound that made his body tremble.

“Sir…?” one of the medical personnel spoke up hesitantly.

The laughter petered off, and Yu opened his eyes with a small smile. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Just kinda tired, is all…”

Dojima could not help but notice the tears pricking at the corners of the kid’s eyes.

“Detective Dojima…” The same medic looked at Dojima expectantly.

“He’s my nephew,” Dojima explained. “I’m coming with him.”

The medic nodded, and she and her partner began the process of loading the stretcher into the ambulance. Yu’s hand fell away from Dojima’s coat as he was wheeled away, and as soon as they were both in the ambulance, Dojima leant down to grip the fallen hand in his own.

“I got you,” Dojima murmured.

Yu looked up at him, a bit of surprise showing through the weariness. He smiled again, and Dojima felt his nephew return the grip. “Thank you…”

[ranger-jedi-knight]

This Unusual Love: Dexter’s Turn

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23365357/chapters/55982161

Ok, so this is salt cause I’m bitter bout Apple. So ya, characters MAY be OOC but whatevs. Also, so in this, me n my friend were talkin bout this fic I’d write n we’d thought it’d be fun if Raven actually had brown hair like her father. So ye, Raven has brown hair(but with small purple high lights). Finally, this was inspired by virgil-is-a-cutie and thyladyanput on Tumblr talking about different salt ideas. I hope you enjoy it!!

All Raven wanted to do was decorate the float for Thronecoming.

But NO!

Apple just had to come up to her and try once more. She kept saying everyone was at risk if she didn’t sign. How her Happily Ever After was in RISK. It didn’t help that every time Dexter thought about talking to Raven he’d get glared at by Apple. Hell, even Daring was chill with Dexter talking to who he wanted.

Though Raven had to admit it looked like he only did that since he was seriously questioning his destiny with how Apple was acting. Not that she could blame him. With every day that passed since the failure of Legacy Day, she’s gotten worse about it. Everyone could see how different Apple was. She kept going on about how unfair it was. How she needed Raven to sign to become the new Evil Queen to poison her. How she just wants her Happily Ever After.

And they could see how she kept harassing Raven.

“How can you be so selfish, Raven!? If you don’t sign the Book of Legends, everything is ruined! No one gets their Happily Ever After!” Apple yelled and all the students present watched the fight warily. They didn’t know what to do. Dexter wanted to go to Raven but Daring was holding him back, wary that something may happen to him if he went over there.

“Selfish!? Is it really that selfish to NOT want to be evil!? To not want to be put into the mirror realm with the Evil Queen!? I DON’T want to be like my mother! Why can’t you understand that!?” Raven shouted back turning to walk to the lake they were near. “Oh wait, I know. You’re too selfish thinking about your own Happily Ever After to care about anyone else.”

With that, Raven stalked over to the lake and went up to a small outcropping and sat down. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs and watched the lake. It was clear, allowing everyone to watch the Neverland Mermaids and their children swim around. They glanced up at her quite a few times as they swam. Once they stayed looking at her she looked around and found Apple standing behind her. Hiding among the trees, Raven could just barely make out her sorta friend Blondie. “What do you want? I just want to be alone,” she asked standing up slowly to face Apple.

“I’m not done talking to you, Raven. You need to sign the Book of Legends. You’re destined to become the next Evil Queen. It’s just a matter of time. You know it,” Apple said cooly and Raven didn’t like the look in Apple’s eyes.

“Apple, how could you say that? You’re Snow’s daughter,” Raven said and Apple tilted her head with a sneer.

“It’s true though. Faybelle thinks only of herself. She’s the daughter of the Evil Fairy. She’s following her nature. You will too. But apparently, you need to make it difficult. Why can’t you just sign the damn book? Why can’t you let me have my Happily Ever After!?” Apple demanded stepping closer to Raven who looked at her shocked and scared.

“You don’t need an Evil Queen or a damn book to give you your Happily Ever After, Apple! Why do you want to follow that anyways!? Briar would never see any of us again. She’d sleep for 100 years with her family and staff. She’d have to make new friends. Marry a man she doesn’t even know. Do you truly want that for your friend!?” Raven demanded and Apple looked shocked at that.

“She’d get her Happily Ever After. I don’t see the problem with it,” she answered back coldly and Raven gasped.

“That’s a horrible thing to say. The other Royal’s even understand Briar’s worry about it. How could you not!?”

“How can you keep thinking about yourself!? Principal Grimm has said that terrible things can happen to everyone if you don’t sign the Book of Legends!” Apple shouted angrily before pushing Raven harshly. Raven gasped as she stumbled back towards the edge. She could only scream as her foot missed the edge and she fell down into the water below. Nearby shouts could be heard and Apple turned to watch as they ran to the edge’s of the lake and watched as the mermaids pulled a struggling Raven down.

“Raven!” Dexter shouted giving his glasses to Cedar before jumping into the water after her. Daring and Darling were quick to follow, knowing he’d need help getting Raven away from the deadly mermaids. Blondie snarled at Apple, glad she was doing the live stream. She heard rustling and Apple could only pale when she saw Milton and Giles behind her.

“You are in deep trouble, Miss White,” Milton said tersely.

“She’s not breathing!” Dexter shouted and Giles ran down while making sure they can get Raven to the hospital.

“I can’t even look at you, Apple. I don’t even know who you are anymore,” Blondie whispered before walking down to the others. She could only watch numbly as Giles took over CPR for Darling. Raven coughed out the water harshly but her eyes didn’t open. Soon, Raven was in the hospital with the Charming siblings, Giles, Blondie, and her parents the Good King and Evil Queen. Mira was seething when the doctor told them the news. Her husband did what he could to calm her, but nothing was working well.

Blondie went into the hall and held up her tablet to start the live stream to tell everyone when Dexter left the room in tears with his siblings walking him outside. Blondie only sighed when she held the tablet up and started the live stream. “Hello everyone. Blondie Locks reporting outside Raven Queen’s hospital room. The doctor has just informed us that Raven is in a coma. He nor his coworkers know if or when Raven will wake up. If you don’t know, earlier today, Apple White viciously attacked Raven Queen by pushing her into the Neverland Mermaid’s lake when she decided not to sign the Book of Legends. With permission from her parents and the hospital, I’ll be setting up a continuous live stream of Raven’s recovery. I’ll keep everyone up to date on any updates about Raven’s health,” Blondie said before ending the live stream and walking into the room once more to hear Raven’s parents arguing on a mirror pad. When she got closer she saw that it was Apple’s mom, Snow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~(⋟_⋞)~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks.

It’s been two weeks.

Dexter could hardly believe it.

Two weeks and the doctors still don’t know how to wake Raven. The school has been abuzz with gossiping. Apple was exspelled from school and Daring told her he wanted nothing to do with her. People couldn’t believe Apple did that to sweet Raven.

They started calling her Evil White.

Evil White.

It fit her.

She changed.

Dexter could barely handle being in the same room as people talking about her. He stayed in Raven’s room primarily, accompanied by Daring or Darling, along with Maddie or Cerise. The others came by occasionally to give their well wishes.

But the most shocking thing?

Snow let Mira out of the mirror dimension.

Once Mira was out, she quickly took care of the book, making sure no one had to follow their destiny for their Happily Ever After. If they wanted it, they’d get it now. Except for Apple.

She wouldn’t get her Happily Ever After. No one wanted to be around her after what she did. After making sure she wouldn’t get her Happily Ever After, Mira willingly went back into the mirror dimension but made sure everyone knew that if she got out, she’ll be going after Apple.

Just thinking about it had Dexter sneering.

He shook his head free of all those thoughts and simply help Raven’s hand in both of his. Their combined hands rested against his chin as he looked at Raven sadly. He startled when Daring put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Want any water, Dex?” he asked and Dexter didn’t answer at first.

He shook his head after a bit but then hesitantly started nodding it. “Actually, some water sounds good,” he replied and Daring gave his shoulder a pat before leaving to get them both some water. Dexter just looked at Raven’s face briefly before looking at their hands. “I’m so sorry, Raven. You didn’t deserve this. You just wanted to be able to be yourself, to make your own choices. But Apple wouldn’t let you. I-I should have intervened. If I had, maybe-just maybe you wouldn’t be here. You’d be safe hanging with your best friends,” he said quietly and finally looked at Raven’s peaceful face once more. “You shouldn’t have to put anyone else’s happiness before your own,” he whispered so quietly that it was hard for he himself to hear. He then moved his hands closer to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to Raven’s fingers before setting her hand down onto her bed.

As he got up to head out, those beautiful purple eyes he adored opened. “D-dex?” Raven asked hoarsely and Dexter could only look shocked.

“Raven? You’re awake?” he asked softly shocked. Raven just looked shocked as she nodded slowly. They heard a clatter and turned to see Daring standing in the doorway shocked, two plastic cups on the ground with water all over.

“Doctor! Raven’s awake!” he yelled out and a doctor came running in with a nurse. It was safe to say that everyone was shocked to learn that Dexter’s kiss woke Raven up. Dexter was blushing when he explained what happened and held Raven’s hand. They shared a smile as the doctor did a check up and Daring sat down next to Dexter.

Ok so here it is!! I hope you enjoyed it!! And remember, the next two chaps are the same as this one just for different ships. Until next time!!!! -Love Willa<3<3<3

[fangslikedaggers]

❝ he was a collection of hard lines and tailored edges – sharp jaw, lean build, wool coat snug across his shoulders. ❞ 

huh, who’s DAVID CORENSWET? no, you’re mistaken, that’s actually ALAIN LESTOAT. he is a TWENTY FOUR year old PART-VAMPIRE wizard who is an UNSPEAKABLE. he is known for being RETICENT, MERCURIAL, ALOOF, EVASIVE, and DECADENT but also CHIVALROUS, ADROIT, PRAGMATIC, DEBONAIR, and INTUITIVE, so that must be why he always reminds me of the song THAT’S OKAY BY THE HUSH SOUND and THREE PIECE SUITS, LONE MATTRESS IN AN EMPTY APARTMENT, CODED NOTEBOOKS, INK-STAINED HANDS, BLACK COFFEE GONE COLD, UNSENT POSTCARDS, OLD TABACCO PIPE, SOFT DIMPLED GRINS, PERFECTLY COIFFED HAIR, ÉDITH PIAF RECORDS ON LOW, and RED LEATHER GLOVES. i hear he is aligned with NO ONE, so be sure to keep an eye on him. 

GENERAL

FULL NAME: Alain Danet Lestoat NICKNAME(S): some people call him ‘Drac’ for some reason, but he prefers to simply be called Alain AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 24, 09/19/2005 (will update graphic soon) OCCUPATION: Unspeakable, works in the Death Chamber most days GENDER: Cis Man PRONOUNS: He/Him HOMETOWN: Eguisheim, Haut-Rhin, France CURRENT RESIDENCE: London, England ALMA MATTER: Beauxbatons BLOOD STATUS: Part-Vampire (1/4th) / Halfblood

BIOGRAPHY

If you’ve ever had a chocolate frog, then there’s a great chance you’ve heard the name Lestoat. Among the many trading cards you can find in the packaged confection there is one for an Amarillo Lestoat, a vampire born at the same time that America declared its Independence, immortalized on enchanted cardstock. Amarillo’s rise to fame came with a single piece of literature which the vampire had published during his two hundred and one years. A Vampire’s Monologue, a mind numbingly boring read that offered the vampire a way to disable his victims so he could feed off them without trouble. It’s a story that has followed his grandson Alain throughout his twenty six years -- a fact that isn’t exactly welcome to the 1/4 Part-Vampire. 

Alain Danet Lestoat was born on a cold and murky September day in the commune of Eguisheim in Haut-Rhin to Marguerite Babineaux, a pureblooded witch whose family was one of the most prominent pureblood families in France during the 20th century, and her Part-Vampire husband Alexander Lestoat; the unexpectedly conceived son of the bore himself. Amarillo had no intention of fathering halfbreed offspring, but was surprised only ten years prior to his death to find out he’d impregnated a young witch he’d used his book on during a trip to Madrid, thus beginning the equally magical and vampiric lineage of the writer. Sometimes Alain wishes the man had managed to keep to this plan. From the moment he opened his eyes to the world he was instantly met with hardships and difficult hurdles to overcome. 

From his father’s side Alain had inherited a severe allergy to garlic, an acute aversion to direct sunlight, canines that were far too long and awkward for braces, and, of course, a slight penchant for the taste of blood. For her part, Marguerite had managed to pass down dark, thick curls and dimpled smiles, but that was not enough to quell the sort of fear that one got whenever he flashed a toothy grin at them. In Eguisheim, among the non-magical denizens, it was important for the Lestoats to stay incognito. Wixen could hide easily among the non-magical, ashen complexed and fanged Vampires could hardly do the same. As such, his childhood was rather isolated and sheltered. He spent most of his days roaming the rather large manor house they had acquired on the edge of town, reading the vast collection of books his two-centuries-old grandfather had left in his father’s possession, consuming knowledge about the world outside he could seldom take part in. 

It wouldn’t be until he’d received his invitation to study at his mother’s alma matter that he would get to see the outside world. With its sprawling gardens, never-melting ice sculptures and enchanting fountains, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic felt more like it belonged among Perrault’s stories than in the real world, and yet it was very real. Equal parts excited and horrifyingly nervous, Alain travelled to the secluded chateau to begin his education. His only hope was that among the magical folk of France he would be able to be more readily accepted. He was only a fourth vampire after all -- he was more like the other wixen around him, how could they abhor him? Disappointment would soon become a constant acquaintance for him. All it had taken was one excitedly large toothy grin to a fellow first year within the first minutes of the welcome feast and Alain’s reputation had been set. Leech. Bloodsucker. Monster. All desperately unfair labels since, as he constantly reminded others, he was more wizard than vampire, but it hadn’t mattered. Having knives for teeth was enough to cause anyone to instantly write him off as a danger and liability. 

After a particularly disastrous first year, including a rather humiliating question-and-answer session during a DADA class, he had sworn he would turn his back on the wizarding world and never come back. I’ll run away into the words, become the Bête in an enchanted castle and make friends out of the utensils I’ll steal from maman’s cupboard. It hadn’t been until Alexander intervened, having gone through a rough schooling experience himself, that Alain would be comfortable with returning to the academy. You’ll just have to prove to them they’re wrong by showing what kind of person you are. It was with this advice that Alain would come back year after year, despite the harassment from his classmates, in order to study. He had resolved to be the best wizard he could. He studied hard -- an easy feat since he was rarely invited along to field trips or outings with his classmates -- excelled at his academics and managed to be top of his class. Despite the naysayers, he’d graduated from Beauxbatons with top honors, and plenty of prestigious internships and job proposals to choose from. Tired of the isolation of both his small commune and the secluded chateau, he had taken what he felt was the most lucrative option -- an internship with the Bureaux des Mystéres in the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France. 

It wasn’t a particularly glamorous position -- he mostly helped file nonsensical reports. He wasn’t allowed anywhere near the actual Chambers within, but he’d caught on quickly enough to know that some really interesting and important stuff happened in there. Why else didn’t anyone talk about it? When he was able to, he applied to become an Unspeakable trainee and before long he was finally setting foot inside those elusive rooms and learning their secrets. He could be trusted to keep them; he was never one to socialize anyway. Who was he going to tell? The only person who was ever privy to his intimate thoughts was his little sister Amélie, and she was still too little to have discussions about his job. Quickly, he’d come to find the secretive and confidential world within those chambers were far more comforting than the vast world outside. His hunger for knowledge about the things he was studying had lead him to submit an application for another Ministry of Magic across the channel. It was said that in the UK they had made more headway with the types of things that were being studied within their own Department of Mysteries, and Alain was desperate to understand everything. When he’d gotten a response back from their Department head eagerly welcoming him to the team, he left first thing and didn’t once look back. France had already taught him enough, it was time to find something more on other shores. 

He’s been in the UK for only a year and a half now, and most of the time he’s spent sitting before a stone arch and shroud, listening to voices calling to him. The Death Chamber. There was something kind of funny about a vampire studying death, but Alain doesn’t care. Each day more mysteries open up to him, keeping him from sleeping and eating as his mind reels with everything. He’s been so occupied with his highly secretive work that he hadn’t noticed the climate changing around him. As a foreigner he understood the past conflicts in England in a textual sense. The Wizarding Wars and the Death Eaters were footnotes in his textbooks, a foreign problem to learn from. They weren’t close to home or part of his own history, so he hadn’t given them much thought. When a string of high prolific deaths began taking place they were sad, no doubt, but not warning bells of something dark to come. As such, he hasn’t taken a side. Per his letters home, he insists that should things become grim in England then he will secure a portkey back to France and resume his post in the Ministére, but Alain figures that whatever is happening will eventually de-escalate. Hadn’t they stopped a rise in dark wizardry in this country a matter of decades prior? 

ok so basically: alain is an introverted part-vampire who migrated to london about a year and half prior to start of game to work at the department of mysteries in the ministry. he started his career as an unspeakable in france’s ministry but is eager to learn more than he thinks was capable back in his homeland. 

BULLYING AND SLIGHT NON CON TW. generally he’s kind of introverted and keeps to himself; this is because he was harassed and bullied a lot as a beauxbatons student for being “halfbreed”. he’s 1/4 vampire and the grandson of a famous vampire writer, a legacy he really hates. in particular he hates that he’s 1. labelled as a monster by ignorant people (he lives off regular food, thank you very much) but also 2. if people know about his grandfather, then they know he wrote a boring af book and in a shady way to get people to submit to him for feeding. kinda feels non-consensual ya know?? 

PHOBIA MENTION TW as both a vampire and a frenchman, he dresses impeccably, so he’s usually seen around in long trench coats and thin tailored suits. he wears red leather gloves as both a fashion statement and also because he is a bit of a germaphobe. he won’t divulge details but this has to do with a vicious prank that was done to him when he was a student. he was kinda carrie’d if ya feel me. 

despite an air of decadence and debonair, he’s kind of poor (rip) and lives in a dingy little shoebox flat where he sleeps on a barren mattress and eats instant ramen and boxed wine for dinner. most of his money goes towards his closet or to his family back home, who doesn’t really need it but he loves spoiling his little sister so he would rather fund her life than his own. claims he’s making enough to live elegantly so they don’t realize he’s a l i a r. 

look he’s gonna be a bit of a hard egg to crack but i promise once he is cracked he’s charming and sweet and a loyal good friend so pls don’t give up on his interactions if he’s aloof and distant ;-; give the boy a chance. 

idk i’ll probably add to this as I think of stuff; it’s 3 am lmao

MISC

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Heteromantic LANGUAGES: English, French, Spanish, Some German FAMILY: Alexander Amarillo Lestoat (father, b. 1967 in Madrid, Spain), Marguerite Celeste Lestoat neé Babineaux (mother, b. 1981 in Mulhouse, France), Amélie Marguerite Lestoat (sister, b. 2011 in Eguisheim, Haut-Rhin, France), Amarillo Lestoat † (grandfather, b. 1776 in Philadelphia, America, died 1977 in Madrid, Spain; vampire and author of a vampire’s monologue)  PETS: Barn Owl named Archimedes and Black Kneazle named Persephone FACE CLAIM: David Corenswet ZODIAC SIGN: Virgo MBTI: TBD PINTEREST: (x)

WANTED CONNECTIONS

tbh i have nothing in mind so just hmu if you have ideas. if not, we will brain storm :) 

bonus: 

alain danet lestoat, beauxbatons first year c. 2017. ignore that wonky ass eye i’m too lazy to fix it

[nataliesnews]

Riots, demonstration in Kikar Zion, siren 12.5.2021

Netanyahu is no fool….he is very very clever and many of us had a suspicion of what he was leading up to. I would not be surprised if he calls a state of emergency and continues with his vicious policy of not caring for the county but doing his best to keep himself, his mentally ill wife and son out of jail. Sara Netanyahu once said she did not care if the country burned…and they have succeeded in bringing us to that pass. The first picture is a quote of hers from 2002…… “We will go overseas and the country can burn” and the second a cartoon saying “I said we would leave for overseas and then the country can burn….NOT BEFORE”

    This is a horrible morning. I am trying to put my thoughts into place. The whole country is burning. Tel Aviv. Suddenly after all the years of the south suffering and as they say, they were invisible it has become serious. I doubt that in Jerusalem there will be many more rockets. Maybe because of the holy places, Christian and Moslem, maybe because of the large Palestinian community. I feel guilty as I sit here quietly writing.

 Netanyahu has done a good job of seeing the Israel on fire. Closing the steps at the Damascus gate …so obvious it would lead to troubles. He knew that he only had to give a small push and with his friend the minister of police everything would develop as it suited him. The news media has also been given its instructions and except for Ha’aretz no other paper mentions what is happening on the other side. Today a comment was passed which many people probably did not hear or take in. That the army would target high rise buildings……in which many families live. The army gave messages for people to evacuate……where were they supposed to go and how many of them actually got the message as we have taken care to destroy much of their communication.

 Sunday I did not feel well and it was a furnace outside. Since the episode where I had memory loss and then straight after that had a cold ….many people here dafke in summer are also sick with colds….I feel a lack of desire to do anything.  So  I only went to the shiva for Cecelia in the evening.  My Spanish teacher. I doubt I will go on trying to learn Spanish. I feel as if something has gone out of me. I had a special relationship with her and she was also my friend. I cannot imagine another teacher or a group. And at the shiva it seems that many of her other students felt the same. And every day I hear from someone else who had studied with her.

 Monday I went out with Tag Maier to distribute flowers in the Old City to Palestinians. It was a difficult today because seldom do Ramadan and Jerusalem Day coincide.

 But this is no united city. So divided, Right and left, Palestians, Jews, Hareidi Jews, …united? And yesterday the schism was even clearer. The religious youth took over the city and their arrogance was unbearable. Some of our members gave flowers to them and when I asked one why she had done so, she said she had many interesting exchanges with some of them who did not even know what we were doing or why. But I saw some of them throwing the  flowers into the rubbish bins. No Palestinian refused us and accepted with a smile.

 In the evening I went to my Arabic lesson. I get a lift with Gershon and Edna Baskin and we had just sat down when we heard  a siren. It was faint at first and we looked at one another in bewilderment. Then we heard three loud bangs and realized it was serious. I wondered what was happening in Nofim. I wondered how all these people here, many of whom are less mobile and quick than I am even on the sticks would get down to a shelter. Later I saw the post that one should look for a safe place in your flat as there is very little time between the siren and the fall. So that question is where. My bedroom ….the glass door is next to the bed. The lounge….the windows again. The bathroom….the mirror and the tiles. The corridor is maybe the safest but there are all the painting and photographs in glass. I think the best place for me is next to my door and to put a blanket over myself. I am just sorry for the really old and incapacitated with their carers.  We spent the lesson learning all the words necessary for such an occasion. We came home to a quiet night and then all hell broke through.  Later: My cleaning lady said I should go and sit on the steps between one floor and another.

 Coming back there was an amusing incident. As I got out of the car I saw two girls putting coke tins next to the rubbish and I told them to give them to me. I explained to them what it was for and then the one girl said to me, “Are you from Balfour? Were you at Sheik Jarrar.” And again I know you have all been writing to me to stay home but when two teenagers tell me that they look up to me and for them it is important to see me at these places what can I say? Truly I don’t think I am in any danger. I keep to the sides or anything going on and I doubt that even our violent police would attack an old woman. But whom I am scared of is groups like Lahava or those yesterday on the march of the religious. I feel the hatred around us as I did last night with people calling us haters of Israel and traitors and bitches who fuck Arabs.

 Yesterday I went to the doctor as the time has come to deal with a hearing problem I have and then to the DCO which was very quiet. There is a young soldier there who has been very sympathetic towards us and is now being transferred. He brought his replacement out and this I do not put in my report. Nadav says that when he leave the army he will join Breaking the Silence. He said that his replacement is a good fellow so we are hoping that we will have the same relationship with him.

  I came home and then went to a play. “The Comedians.” It was very funny but I laughed looking at the audience as it was so appropriate for many of us. From a play by Neil Simon about two once famous comedians who are  now uber bottled. When I went out I asked three people to tell the organizer of the transport that I would not be joining them. Later she phoned in anger to ask why I was not on the bus!!! It was so appropriate. I had sat down to phone a friend and when I got up to leave the theatre which was by then pretty deserted I saw a really old lady with her carer sitting outside looking desperate. It turned out that the theatre had ordered a taxi for them and another couple had jumped in and taken it. Being the celebration of Id Il Fitir there were few Arab taxis and they are  a large part of the taxis in Jerusalem.  In the end I stayed with them until I managed to stop a taxi and put them on the way home. I gave them the number of Gett taxi which is more reliable.

 I walked down to the city and stopped at Balfour where some of the stalwarts were sitting. The demonstration at Kikar Zion started off with few people but soon grew. There was no talk of a march but then people did start walking down the main street and also on the tracks of the light train. I did not think that that was a good idea and walked along with them but on the pavement. The police arrived but did nothing. Then we came to Kikar Zion, to the square,  where we gathered and in no way were we disturbing pedestrians, the train or anything else. Then the police decided to attack. I think because where we were walking before there were passers by and wanted it to be where they had us to themselves. First of all they started pushing people back but then we saw that they had brought in the dogs and what dogs. Their trainers could hardly control them and the dogs also started fighting amongst themselves. You can understand how dangerous they were. They were real killers.  I have no photographs as everything was very volatile there and I did not want to put my sticks down. They also tried to sic them on to some people. Then they came with the horses….enormous . You have no idea. My question is why when we were obstructing traffic did they do nothing but attack us when we were not bothering anyone else.

 In the meantime Lahava and the other young fascists had started screaming at us…the police kept us separated but when the police managed to drive us off they left them celebrating in the square.

 I always stand to the back at such times but Eitemar who has stood with us at our demonstrations at Nofim refused to leave me and when one of the policemen seemed to be heading straight for us called to him and said that he was standing with me. He is one of those who is very watchful for me but I tell them to go and do their own thing as I do not want to be a drag on anyone. Last night I yelled at them and said that for 81 years I had been looking out for myself and I could still do so. But when the shunk came we were all away.

 Natalie

       .

[urmckidding]

╰ °✧ that’s MARLENE MCKINNON and SHE seems to look a lot like NANA KOMATSU. according to ministry files, the PUREBLOOD used to attend HOGWARTS and be in GRYFFINDOR. now, they’re TWENTY and is A RADIO BROADCASTER. red wine stains on white linen ; bloody lips pulled into a defiant grin ; plunging into cold water ; the twist of your gut before you make a stupid decision ( still laughing despite the fear ) ; loud and unapologetic laughter echoing out ; a soldier — scared but marching on nonetheless ; a bonfire roaring to life, wood hissing and sparks flying are the best way to describe them. it doesn’t say in their file, but word around the street is that they’re a ORDER MEMBER.

hullo  ,  it’s  ME  ,  bri  (  she/her  ,  23  ,  est  tz  )!!  this  is  my  trash  daughter  ,  marlene  ,  but  don’t  tell  her  i  said  that  because  she  will  bully  me.  any  who  ,  you  can  find  more  about  miss  mckinnon  under  the  cut  including  wanted  connections  (  at  the  way  bottom  so  feel  free  to  skip  the  about  bit  if  it’s  too  long  )!  and  feel  free  to  check  out  her  ABOUT  PAGE  &  PINTEREST.   

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒

FULL NAME:  marlene  isadora  mckinnon

AKA:  marlie  ,  len  ,  mckinnon

AGE:  twenty  years  old

BIRTHDAY:  

GENDER  & PRONOUNS:  cis  woman

PRONOUNS:  she/her

SEXUALITY:  biromantic  bisexual 

BLOOD STATUS:  pureblood 

FORMER HOUSE:  gryffindor

OCCUPATION:  radio  host  ,  order  of  the  phoenix  member

marlene’s  radio  show  is  anonymous  and  she  mainly  uses  it  to  shit  talk  the  deatheater  movement  and  share  stories  about  the  order  of  the  phoenix  and  their  allies.  it’s  fairly  similar  to  the  potterwatch  radio  show  that  lee  jordan  runs  during  the  seventh  book.  of  course  ,  since  this  is  marlene  she’ll  also  put  on  some  music  during  the  breaks.       

FACECLAIM:  nana  komatsu 

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑

POSITIVE TRAITS:  humorous  ,  protective  ,  spirited  ,  passionate  ,  loyal  ,  courageous  ,  persistent  ,  independent  ,  playful  

NEGATIVE TRAITS:  bullheaded  ,  impulsive  ,  impatient  ,  self  destructive  ,  arrogant  ,  attention  seeking  ,  argumentative    

DEMEANOR:  marlene  can  come  off  one  of  two  ways  :  friendly  and  playful  or  cruel  and  spiteful.  she  is  a  person  set  in  her  ways  ,  that  means  she  probably  has  already  decided  how  she  feels  about  a  person  either  before  or  in  the  first  couple  minutes  of  meeting  them.  to  her  friends  and  family  ,  marlene  is  a  spitfire  with  a  penchant  for  adventure  and  trouble.  she  likes  to  make  her  loved  ones  laugh  and  have  fun  and  is  incredibly  protective  of  them.  however  to  those  she’s  not  so  crazy  about  ,  she’s  a  spitfire  in  a  less  fun  way.  she’s  hard  to  win  over  if  a  person  has  already  felt  her  judgement  but  it’s  possible  ...  maybe  ...  who  knows.      

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓  (  trigger  warning  :  the  death  of  a family  member -  i  will  tag  the  paragraph  it’s  in.  )

the  mckinnon  brood  resides  in  SCOTLAND  ,  her  father’s  family  having  settled  there  for  quite  some  time  while  her  mother’s  side  has  never  left  japan  —  save  for  her  mother  of  course.  they  are  a  large  crew  even  when  only  counting  marlene’s  immediate  family.  she  has  four  siblings  ,  all  older.  it  had  been  a  contentious  subject  whether  to  send  the  kids  to  hogwarts  or  mahoutokoro  in  japan.  her  father  won  the  fight  eventually  and  the  mckinnons  went  on  to  scatter  themselves  throughout  gryffindor  and  ravenclaw.        

as  a  note  ,  the  mckinnons  have  not  mingled  with  many  of  the  other  zealous  pureblood  families  for  a  long  while  now  having  marked  themselves  as  blood  traitors  generations  ago.  they’re  a  rough  and  tumble  kind  of  group  who  don’t  care  for  haughty  parties  or  the  politics  of  it  all. 

marlene  has  always  been  a  whirlwind  of  spirit  and  trouble.  she  was  infamous  for  the  pranks  she  played  on  the  family’s  tutors  and  her  disappearing  acts  ,  though  her  parents  could  hardly  blame  her  with  the  kind  of  examples  they  set  ;  both  aurors  who  threw  themselves  into  trouble  even  when  the  odds  were  against  them.  marlene  grew  up  hearing  stories  about  their  misadventures  ,  all  tied  up  in  a  nice  little  bow  as  if  her  parents  weren’t  risking  their  lives  as  the  war  worsened.  but  it  was  not  them  that  marlene  wanted  to  be  like.  no  ,  she  completely  adored  and  idolized  her  grandmother.   

KIRA  MCKINNON  was  a  staple  in  the  mckinnon  household  ,  floating  in  and  out  as  if  it  was  her  own  home.  she  doted  on  marlene  as  her  youngest  granddaughter.  she  would  often  steal  her  grandchildren  away  to  different  adventures  in  town  or  the  lands  surrounding  the  mckinnon  manor.  marlene  always  looked  forward  to  her  grandmother’s  visits.  

even  when  marlene  was  whisked  off  to  hogwarts  ,  she  and  her  grandmother  exchanged  letters  —  probably  the  one  thing  that  marlene  would  let  her  friends  tease  her  about  solely  because  she  didn’t  care.  

marlene  was  sorted  into  gryffindor  ,  like  her  father  and  older  brother.  she  made  herself  comfortable  quickly  and  garnered  a  reputation  as  a  fairly  opinionated  and  sharp  witch.  she  liked  the  flashy  spells  and  never  cared  for  the  classes  where  she  was  required  to  sit  still  —  “  what  a  bore.  ”  she  would  often  say  during  history  of  magic  and  potions  classes.  

she  had  grown  up  playing  quidditch  with  her  family  and  tried  out  as  soon  as  she  was  able  to  ,  earning  a  proper  spot  on  the  house  team  in  her  third  year  (  either  beater  or  chaser  ,  whichever  position  works  with  the  other  gryffindor  headcanons!  ).  

most  notoriously  ,  marlene  had  trouble  picking  her  fights  wisely.  she  has  always  been  the  type  of  person  to  act  first  and  think  later  ,  which  during  her  time   at  hogwarts  got  her  into  an  awful  amount  of  trouble  —  fights  on  the  pitch  ,  in  the  corridors  ,  sometimes  even  in  classes.  it  was  difficult  for  her  to  stand  down  when  she  had  a  problem  with  someone  ...  

this  passion  became  more  and  more  focused  around  equality  efforts  for  muggles  and  muggleborns.  that  conversation  was  had  frequently  at  the  mckinnon  house  and  it  was  clear  who  her  family  stood  with  :  the  order.  however  ,  marlene’s  passion  for  it  was  based  in  the  seeds  her  family  planted.  i  think  that  if  the  mckinnons  sided  with  the  death  eaters  ,  marlene  would  have  fought  just  as  passionately  for  that  ...  at  least  until  around  the  time  the  rp  takes  place  because  this  is  when  she  begins  to  form  her  own  opinions. 

FAMILY  MEMBER  DEATH  TRIGGER  WARNING  BEGINS  ...  though  marlene  was  obvious  in  where  she  stood  in  the  war  ,  it  never  became  real  to  her  until  her  seventh  year.  she  had  nursed  a  quiet  fear  for  what  waited  for  her  outside  of  hogwarts’s  walls  until  she  received  news  of  her  grandmother’s  death.  kira  mckinnon  had  garnered  her  own  reputation  throughout  her  career.  she  was  no  one  to  scoff  at  as  a  looming  figure  in  the  efforts  to  catch  war  criminals.  however  when  she  retired  those  she  had  helped  imprison  didn’t  forget  what  she  had  done.  she  had  been  on  the  death  eaters’  hit  list  for  quite  some  time  and  they  finally  crossed  her  off  —  marking  the  beginning  of  the  mckinnon  family’s  demise.  marlene  refused  to  leave  school  and  took  her  grief  out  on  students  who  she  suspected  stood  with  voldemort.  it  nearly  got  her  expelled.  but  her  grandmother’s  death  left  her  with  a  nearly  paralyzing  need  to  fight.  TRIGGER  WARNING  ENDS.    

upon  graduation  ,  marlene  —  seventeen  and  burning  with  purpose  —  signed  up  to  join  the  order.  her  family  welcomed  her  ,  though  her  parents  had  reservations  about  their  youngest  and  most  reckless  joining  up.  they  tried  to  keep  her  off  missions  as  long  as  possible  and  so  marlene  went  elsewhere  to  try  to  help. 

she  began  her  radio  show  ,  title  TBD  ,  when  she  was  nineteen.  it  requires  a  special  tune  in  in  order  to  hear  and  is  riddled  with  passcodes  and  code  names  but  she  mainly  reports  on  news  and  stories  ,  including  her  own  passionate  rhetoric.  she  operates  it  out  of  a  wizarding  network  who  she  hosts  a  show  for  during  some  weekdays  but  at  night  she  uses  the  instruments  to  hold  her  own  show.  of  course  there  is  music  during  breaks  because  marlene  needs  to  jam.  

since  she’s  joined  the  order  she’s  actually  been  included  on  missions  and  meetings.  all  she  can  see  is  the  fight  right  now  ,  but  in  that  reckless  and  young  perspective  where  she  can  only  see  it  ending  well  for  her  and  her  friends.  because  of  that  she  tends  to  act  fearless  and  downright  stupid  ,  glossing  over  her  fears  and  worries  with  humor  and  general  avoidance.  

TLDR;  marlene  is  a  chaotic  dumbass  who  runs  a  secret  radio  show  under  the  guise  of  an  actual  radio  host  for  a  wizarding  network.  she’s  a  dedicated  order  member  who  will  absolutely  throw  herself  in  harm’s  way  because  ...  she’s  a  chaotic  dumbass.     

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

RIDE  OR  DIE’S  —  these  are  the  people  marlene  would  go  to  battle  for.  she  is  a  fiercely  protective  friend  and  would  rather  herself  get  hurt  than  those  she  cares  for.  these  are  also  the  people  she  would  actually  confide  in  too.  she  very  rarely  shares  what’s  going  on  in  her  brain  except  for  when  it  involves  these  people.  on  the  flip  side  ,  if  no  one’s  in  peril  ,  marlene  is  that  friend  who  always  pushes  her  limits  a  little  too  much.  she  wants  everyone  to  enjoy  themselves  but  it  won’t  stop  her  if  they  decide  not  to  partake.  she’s  a  bad  influence  point  blank.      

HOOK UPS  &  FLINGS  —  marlene  is  straight  up  afraid  of  serious  relationships.  she  sees  her  parents  and  their  parents  and  relationships  like  theirs  seem  so  out  of  reach.  i  wouldn’t  say  she’s  a  serial  one  night  stander  but  she  has  definitely  left  some  broken  off  flings  in  her  wake  because  of  this.  any  gender  ,  anyone.

LOVE  INTEREST  —  me:  *says  marlene  is  afraid  of  serious  relationships*  also  me:  *puts  love  interest  under  wanted  connections*  exCUSE  ME  if  i’m  a  sucker  for  a  guarded  person  falling  in  love  oK.  anyway  this  could  really  be  any  dynamic  but  personally  i  am  a  sucker  for  a  past  hook  up  catching  feels  but  marlene  doesn’t  return  the  sentiment  unTIL  LATER  or  enemies  to  friends  to  lovers  or  literally  anything  ,  it  does  not  take  much  to  please  me.  again  ,  open  to  anyone.  

RIVALS  &  ENEMIES  —  marlene  is  an  absolute  rage  machine  and  has  probably  started  fights  with  a  lot  of  people.  with  that  said  ,  her  favorite  people  to  hate  are  death  eaters  or  their  sympathizers.  other  than  that  ,  rivals  or  enemies  could  be  a  former  school/quidditch  competitor  to  someone  who  looked  at  her  funny  once.  

MENTOR  —  hello  i  am  a  sucker  for  the  mentor  -  student  dynamic  and  if  anyone  wants  to  knock  some  sense  into  marlene  ,  please  do  not  hesitate  to  do  it.  she’s  young  and  stupid  and  naive  about  the  war  efforts  ,  she  doesn’t  have  an  accurate  view  of  the  world  ,  a  place  she  thinks  is  neatly  divided  into  black  and  white.  your  character  can  tell  her  she’s  not  all  good  and  she  can  be  a  pain  in  your  character’s  ass!!  a  win  -  win  honestly. 

LITERALLY  ANYTHING  —  i  ,,  Love  to  plot  and  am  so  down  to  brainstorm  new  fun  things  with  y’all!!  

[remnantsrp]

Name: Luxury Lawson Age: 28 years old Pronouns: She/her Hometown: Las Vegas, Nevada Occupation before the Infection: Engineer Role within the Caravan: Mechanics/General Repair Team FC: Zazie Beetz

Biography:

Before the Infection.

When people first hear her name, most often joke that it sounds like a stripper’s name. She never minded because it was true to some extent, seeing as it came from a stripper – her mother. She had lost count of how many times she’d heard her mother’s voice saying she was the only luxury her mom could afford.

Left to her own devices, she had to learn how to talk and walk faster than most children. Luxury hardly noticed though. She always had plenty of energy and seemed to be three steps ahead of everyone else. With a parent who never planned to have kids but wound up with one anyway, Xury grew up in a house with little boundaries and often little resources. But as the saying goes, necessity is the mother of invention. She became well-versed in stretching whatever meager means they had, recycling, repurposing, and even rebuilding them to fit their needs.

At any given time, she had no less than 8 moms looking after her in the dressing room of the club where her mom worked. Technically children weren’t allowed on the premises but the owner turned a blind eye because her mom was the headliner, drawing the biggest crowds. And Luxury was useful. Fixing costumes, fixing the busted sound system, fixing the rickety old cash register behind the bar. If it was broken, Luxury would find a way to fix it.  And even if it wasn’t broken, she’d still find an excuse to tinker with it, her inquisitive nature fueled her need to learn about the way the things work. She even taught herself how to work the lighting system and helped program the dancers’ routines. Neither of her guardians saw fit to rein her in, instead encouraging her inventive spirit and urging her to follow her passions and take advantage of her environment, whatever it may be.

When she was 14, the club owner got into some tax trouble and lost the club to the bank. Fortunately, the ladies were able to pool their money and buy the club for themselves. With newfound job security and an influx of income, her mom pushed her out of the club and into her schoolwork. Though Luxury wasn’t a buy-the-book student, she did excel in the sciences. More concerned with the answers than the questions and with the solutions than the problems, Xury climbed her way to the national level of the science fair and even secured herself a scholarship to Cal Tech.

With a doctorate in mechanical engineering degree tucked under her belt, Luxury returned to her old stomping grounds in Vegas to put her skills to use. She started a research and development firm focused on sustainability and renewable energy. All of her tinkering finally paid off and she was well on her way to fixing what she thought was wrong in the world.

The Outbreak.

But the world was quick to prove her wrong. So wrong.

Bath salts. That’s what it was a few years ago when the news reported a man eating someone’s face down in Florida, right? It had to be drugs. That’s what she rationalized when she heard the first weird story on the news.

And that’s why she thought nothing of checking out a potential new office space one afternoon. Luxury and her mother went to meet up with the real estate agent but soon found the neighborhood wasn’t the only thing that was up-and-coming. People were milling about the sidewalk, carrying shopping bags and pushing strollers, dining on restaurant patios and posing for selfies one minute and running and screaming the next. Exposed and too far from their car, Luxury and her mom hid in a nearby dumpster, waiting out the screams and violence in the streets. It took 2 days before they felt safe enough to venture out of their hiding spot and about 2 seconds before they were in the car and on the road.

Finding the Caravan.

The first time Xury saw a live person other than her mom, they were shining a light in her face. She didn’t remember the accident, just the aftermath. She remembered falling asleep and then she was upside down, dangling from her seatbelt with her mother’s voice in her ear calling her name as hands pulled her out of the over-turned car. It wasn’t until she was being looked over by one of the caravan’s medics that she learned what happened. The medic apologized for her loss and offered to give her a ride.

Luxury was thankful a few of the scout’s had heard the car crash and had the grace to help her out. But part of her wished they had just left her there with her mother. It had always been the two of them against the world, and now it was just the world against her. All her life, she’d been fixing things, but the death of her mother wasn’t one them. So, she threw her energy into things that could, sticking with the mechanics in the caravan. Though she wasn’t a pro at fixing cars, she was a quick study and was grateful to have something to occupy her mind. But electronics was her bread and butter. Before long, Xury established herself as the go-to person for salving lost causes and giving them new life. Recycling. Repurposing. Rebuilding. She was even able to rig up a rudimentary alarm system around the perimeter of camp. This is what she was good at. This is what she could fix.

positive personality traits: innovative, curious, resourceful, analytical

negative personality traits: proud, defensive, dismissive, independent

played by Kendall, She/her

[athina-blaine]

Martin turns in his final to Professor Sims, just in time.

Chapters: 1/1 [Complete]

Words: 883

Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship, Alternate Universe - College/University

~

Jon checked his watch.

3:59.36 PM.

Saving his document, he got up from his desk and made for the door. Three students have yet to appear with their final essays. He hoped the inevitable apology emails were long and contrite, for their sake.

As he closed the door, something barrelled towards and lodged itself inside the doorway. A hand with a stack of papers shot out.

“I’m here, I’m here, I have it, I’m not late!”

Ah. There he was. Lips twitching, Jon maintained his grip on the door.

“Mr. Blackwood, it’s four o’clock. I was very clear the essays needed to be turned in before—”

“No, no, you said once the door was closed.” Martin squeezed his head into the office. “I’ll get the email out if I have to.”

Well. Jon supposed he could appreciate that level of dedication to pedantry. With a sigh, he opened the door fully and Martin stumbled in, out of breath, taking it upon himself to collapse onto the couch.

“Where on Earth have you been?” Jon asked as he grabbed his pitcher of water and poured it into a glass, holding it out. Martin took it and drained it in three large gulps.

“It was Dr. Williams,” he said as he wiped his mouth. Jon crinkled his nose.

“Was it the Meriwether Lewis rant again?”

“Oh, no. I can actually tune that one out these days. His girlfriend dumped him.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Yeah. And he went ahead and bought a breeding pair of marmoset monkeys since he had no ‘rotten woman’ to stop him from doing it now. Turns out, though, marmoset monkeys are kind of a pain in the arse.”

“Is that what he’s been doing with all those bananas?”

“Hell if I know. Also, I’m pretty sure what he’s doing is illegal. God. Do I need to report him to animal control now?” Martin rolled his head back onto the couch. “Why does this keep happening to me?”

Martin did possess an unusual penchant for eliciting atypical emotional responses from his professors. Dr. Chase had invited him to the baby shower of her granddaughter. Professor Miller had left him in his will his private collection of poetry books.

And Jon, well.

“I suppose you just have that sort of face.”

Martin held out his paper. “Well, here it is, anyway. Bloody bastard kept me for nearly an hour. I looked up and it was already five to four.”

“Did you sprint here all the way from the Gen Ed building?”

“I’m not sure. It’s all kind of a blur after the bit with monkey mating rituals.”

Jon tsked, taking the paper and flipping through it. “That was hardly necessary. I wouldn't have rejected your paper for something as silly being kept up by Williams for a few minutes, Martin.”

“It’s the principle of the thing. I had it ready.” He lifted his eyebrows. “Jon.”

Dammit.

Jon trained his eyes to Martin’s paper, not acknowledging the slipup.

“So,” Martin stretched out his legs, eyes on his fidgeting fingers, “you know what this all means, right? Me turning in the final?”

Jon did, but it would be much more amusing if he instead he said, “Mmm, I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Oh, come on. Are you really going to make me say it?”

Jon was going to make him say it. Martin rolled his eyes, said, “You’re a bastard,” and stood, approaching where Jon leaned against the desk.

“After this, I’m going to go to the West End and get some coffee.” He cleared his throat. “Since you’re not my professor anymore, I can’t imagine anyone having a problem with it if you, um, happened to be there. At the same time. With me.”

His face had darkened a deep red, as if a coffee shop date was some salacious affair. This adorable little man. Jon found it within himself to have mercy on him.

“No. I suppose not.” He dropped the essay on the stack with the others. “Technically, I’m still your professor until you submit my performance evaluation. You did do that, right?”

“Yep. Submitted it in this morning. ‘10 out of 10, would make out with under the desk during office hours again’.”

Jon shushed him and pinched his side. “Do you really want to have this whole thing blown now?”

“Oh, yes, sorry, I forgot that you left your door open— oh, wait.”

That cheek of his was going to get him in serious trouble someday. But Jon took both of Martin’s hands in his, stroking the length of his knuckles. “Well, as you are no longer my student, I suppose I have no further reservations of making things official.”

“Good.”

Martin pressed his mouth over Jon’s, clumsy and overeager, smothering Jon’s startled huff. Well. The door was closed, after all. Jon made a low sound, rumbling deep in his chest, and easing into the touch, luxuriating in Martin’s strong grip on his arm.

He pulled away some moments later, eyes half-lidded. “There is still the issue of actually grading your final—”

“Oh, just give me a B- and call it a day.” He snuck in one more kiss and tugged Jon’s arm. “Come on, before they run out of blueberry muffins.”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

Jon closed his laptop.

[deannesen]

Storm Before The Calm

This love between us gives me power. Po-wer, po-wer, po-wer!

The muted song played on a tiny screen hidden under a desk. Sakura's fingers hit the buttons on her Versa handheld in a rapid fire. Her instincts matched every button to every beat. She could her the chime of each synchronized note in her head. Meanwhile, her ears pricked up on the words Ms Limon spouted out.

"That's the end of this chapter, The Fourth Spirit Burst. That will be all today. Remember to take care as you head home."

Sakura hit the last note, relieved another school day was over. Her body was wrecked with boredom and fatigue. She watched her classmates flow out of the classroom as she stuffed her Versa between the books in her schoolbag. Their chatter was white noise to her ears. She paid no attention to it. She only heard her own thoughts running down a list of what to do once she got home. New episodes of game shows, another comic update, and a whole new area to explore in her favourite RPG. Her best friend Angie stretched beside her.

"All the notes I had to take for you," she whined. "You owe me, Sakura."

"No way, it's totally fair."

Her fingers dog-eared a page out of the manga resting on her lap before slipping it back into her bag. She zipped it closed and sat back with Angie. "You were gone last week and I had to take your notes. It was awful."

"I was sick that time!"

Angie's cheeks flamed. Her exaggerated pout and furrowed eyebrows made her laugh. It reminded her of a furious chipmunk.

"I remember. I'm sure your flu made it hard to play Dancing Rave 6000."

The tiny girl opened her mouth to defend, but it closed back in defeat. Sakura knew her too well. She held back a snort and Angie hit her shoulder.

"Biiiiitch."

"Dumbass."

They laughed in unison. Sakura then helped her pack up so they could go back together. Cramming books into Angie's tiny pink satchel was a two person task. Angie arranged her books and papers neatly against each other. She waved a stack of notes in front of her face before slipping it into the bag.

"Look, Ms Limon went on and on about this unit. You'd think it happened to her yesterday with all things she said."

Sakura thought about it, resting her head on her arm. Her gaze lingered on the view outside the window. Dark clouds clumped in the sky. A rumble threatened her ears. It hadn't rained for weeks, and now it seemed a storm would come. The spirits were undoubtedly in tune with them. Her skin prickled with cold.

"You know what they say, spirit bursts are like rainy days. We might as well prepare for when it will happen again," she mused. "Still...it could be days or centuries for the next one. We just have to wait and see."

Angie blew a raspberry. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. Her eyes stared at the ceiling. "I know that. I won't lie, I think it would be kind of cool to have something shake things up. I'm tired of the same old, day in, day out," she chuckled bitterly. "With our luck, it'll happen once we're old and wrinkly."

"Yeah, I get it," she mused quietly. "Still, we probably shouldn't wish for things we don't really know about."

"Are you kidding? With all the studying we've done, I think we can qualify as spirits."

They shared a giggle at that. Then came the unmistakable sound of hard objects hitting the roof above them. First it was one clunk after another, but it soon devolved into a flurry. A commotion erupted outside.  Angie shot her a frazzled look. Sakura snapped her gaze back to the window. It was raining white.

They grabbed their bags and rushed outside. A stream of students flowed to see what was going on. Sakura saw Yukika's white bob of hair right at the edge of a pillar. She was still, with her hand out to inspect the falling specks. They elbowed their way around and made it to her.

"What the frick-a-dick is happening?" asked Angie. Yukika held her hand out to them. Small icy orbs nestled in her palm.

"Hail."

"Damn," said Sakura. She leaned forward to take a closer look. They were big for such an unexpected onslaught. She poked one of them and her skin hissed at the near-frostbite. She swept them off Yukika’s hand to let them fall to the ground. "Who would have thought. How are we gonna get home?"

Yukika took out an umbrella that was in her bag's pocket. She opened it up and it fluttered open to barely cover one head. She held the umbrella out to check. The hail bounced off upon contact. They looked at her blankly.

"I'll call my dad," said Angie. "Hopefully he pick us up soon."

"Good idea."

They went down the stairs. The sea of students made it hard to keep their balance while moving around. Angie and Sakura managed to squeeze through tiny spaces, however Yukika had a harder time slipping through. The good thing was that she could shove people away very easily. Sakura heard speculations and whispers of why a hailstorm was happening in the middle of April. The anxiety was making it harder to keep steady. She nearly slipped a few times on melted hail that people dropped.

She didn't have the faintest idea. Angie would have said it was a perfectly scientific reason, but the energy in the air told her otherwise. It might have been unstable winter spirits lurking in springtime. Or perhaps cloud spirits holding onto the cold. Why, she couldn't guess.

They managed to make it to the back gate with only dirty stares in return. Sakura leaned against the wall. Her heartbeat thrummed along with the hail. It sounded as if it had slowed after the initial flurry. The hail falling was now smaller than what Yukika showed them. Hopefully it meant that the journey home wouldn't be as much of a spectacle.

Angie tapped away at her phone. She held it up to her ear.

"Hey dad. Can you pick us up? Yeah, it just started raining hail - I know right? Wait, Mr Oman said what? That's so typical of him-"

Sakura tuned Angie out as she started to gossip with her dad. The anxiety in the air made her heart clench. She closed her eyes, leaning against the wall. Thump, thump thump, thump. Yukika put her hand on her shoulder. It was cool to the touch.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

"Yeah," replied Sakura.  A breeze blew past her ear. She caught a whisper of fear. Her forehead warmed up. A malicious smile glinted in her mind. She steeled herself and opened her eyes. Yukika looked troubled. Angie walked towards them, slipping her phone in her pocket.

"He should be here soon. Sound good?"

She nodded. They sat down at a bench to wait, watching the hail slowly cease falling. Sakura did her mathematics homework in the meantime, letting numbers blur her thoughts. Graphite clashed on the thin sheets. She never liked the defined numbers and answers laid out for her. It was so stiffening, so rigid. Her brain was boxed in with the formulas circling inside. The numbers dancing on the paper nearly lulled to her sleep with the cold gale.

What's the total surface area of the dome? Perimeter x height x slant height... wait, no.. dome... circular.... sphere... dome.. not pyramid... dome.... dome...

In a sleepy haze, the equations floated around her consciousness. Her pencil lined down the page again and again, barely keeping her awake. She was only on question number three. She couldn't sleep yet.

Hmm, dome, dome...

Don't.

Dome.....

Don't. Don't.

DON'T GIVE IN. THEY'RE COMING.

"Sakura."

A hand clamped down onto her shoulder. She jolted back awake. Yukika was looking at her. She was standing up with her schoolbag hanging off her elbow. There was an ambiguous look in her eyes. Her foggy mind could hardly register her.

"Come on, let's go home."

She stood up, rubbing her eyes. A yawn stretched her mouth. She rubbed her eyes again. How long had it been? Angie was nowhere to be seen. She looked up at the grey sky. There was no more hail falling, but the cold air was biting her skin.

"I'll take your bag, you're still tired," Yukika decided. She shook her head, but Yukika was already walking ahead of her to the gate. She sighed and followed.

The door of the car awaiting them was wide open. A blast of warm air greeted her as she saddled up next to Angie, who was already preoccupied with texting her virtual boyfriend. Yukika closed the car door and the car lurched off. Her dad smiled at them in the rear view mirror. He passed a lot of his traits onto his daughter, skinny with an oval face and slant eyes.

"Thanks for picking us up, Dad," said Angie without looking up from her phone.

"No problem kiddos," he said. "Scary that a hailstorm happened out of nowhere, are you all alright?"

They all nodded. She leaned back in her seat. It was weird being in the middle, strapping on the seat belt. Yukika looked outside the window. Angie leaned on her shoulder. She looked down at her feet. Her ears picked up on interesting words bouncing off the radio.

Reports say that an increase of spirit disturbances have occurred nationwide. Citizens are advised to check the spirit forecasts and leave weekly offerings to their local shrines. The Spiritual Union of the Nation -

Angie's dad changed the station a few times and settled on one playing a mindless pop song. The words slurred together after she figured it wasn't one she liked. She took out her Versa. She tapped at a notification that popped up.

DEFCON ZERO

The page was a black screen with her sign-in details in pale green text. A slashed white eye stood as a logo above it. She tapped to sign in.

User : TinyThunder / Server : 03 - Creation

When your body is at your weakest, your spirit burns brightest.

Enter combat?

Stage 125. Recommended level : 70. Your level : 55. Proceed?

She looked at her setup of low leveled units. The map was a rough terrain with a gigantic boss. She could make it. Determination pulsed through her fingertips.

Yes.

Hlíf, the unit on the first defense line nearly died at the opening boss strike. She stood her ground, knowing the opening move was greater than its following attacks. The damage gave her enough power to unleash her ultimate move early on.

Unstoppable Shield!

She charged forward, knocking enemies down with her infallible shield. Her remaining strength was focused into running as far as she could. She coughed up blood onto her armor. In her final sprint, she crashed into the boss giant and fired her gun five times. An ally plane picked up her body before she fell.

The second defense line rose to tank the next hits. Blood Moon stood by as a medic, streaming enchanted blood to heal each wound. A mage team descended, breaking down the enemy defenses bit by bit.

Defenders blocked the line. Nimble melee soldiers dodged blows, swinging their weapons despite gashes where their defenses failed. The enemies fired heavy ammunition and cut with mighty swords. In their bloody fight, the defenses were close to falling. Seeing the opportunity, Rasputin rose his hands to the sky and unleashed his powers. Seeing the signal, a firework of skills illuminated the battlefield.

Death Dance.

Rasputin levitated above the ground. Icicles fired from his hands and planted themselves into the heart of the giant. It roared in pain. Every mage in his range felt their powers heighten. They directed their magic towards melting the remaining advancers. One by one, fighters fell, but not without taking several enemies with them. Rasputin encased the enemy in ice and delivered a final blow. It exploded, and he fell to the ground, surrounded by the dead army. The mages ended their assault, breathing heavily.

VICTORY.

She sighed in relief. Her muscles relaxed from being tightened with anxiety. The car was slowing down.

"Hell yeah."

"Nice work," said Angie. She gave her a teasing grin and punched her shoulder. "Wish I had Rasputin. You're lucky."

"Wasn't easy with you staring over my shoulder," she shrugged. The car stopped. She looked out and saw her familiar driveway with her mother's car gone. "Great timing."

Yukika opened the door and got out. The evening air was warm and inviting. Sakura breathed it all in.  She stepped out of the car and waved to Angie's dad. Angie shut the door and waved as well.

"Thanks for the ride, Mr. Allende."

"You're welcome. Take care."

They drove off. Sakura watched the car disappear from the lane, the silver polish glinting in the waning sun. It was nice to have a different ride back home. She turned and saw Yukika staring at her phone. There was a frown on her face.

"Akira messaged me to come home."

She cocked her head to the side curiously.

"Will you be staying the night?"

Yukika tucked her phone into her pocket. She smiled to her. It was unnatural to see Yukika smile with that grimace still in her eyes.

"There's nothing she can do to stop me," she said, steel in her voice.

She believed Yukika's words. She didn't want to ask any more about it. There was always bitterness in her when her mother was involved. She held out her hand to take her schoolbag. Yukika gave it to her, but didn't give her own bag. She walked away, her back straight.

Sakura opened and closed the gate behind her. She arranged her shoes on the shoe rack before jiggling the doorknob and finding it unlocked. The door was opened.

She looked up and sighed as she saw their old babysitter, Cleeve, standing as tall as ever. She smiled down at her. Her warm green eyes were comforting to see. She ushered her in. Everything in the house was spick and span. Even her comfy cushions were angled against the couch. A delicious aroma of cauliflower rice wafted from the kitchen. Her stomach rumbled.

"Sounds like you're hungry. Want an early dinner?" Cleeve offered.

"Don't have to tell me twice," Sakura said, rushing into the kitchen. Her socks almost made her slip on the tile floor. Cleeve caught her in her muscly arms and she chuckled sheepishly. Cleeve had bulked up since the last time they saw each other. "Oh, um, also, what are you doing here?"

Cleeve set the table. She placed down the nicest plates in the house and the shiniest forks and spoons. Sakura pulled out a chair. By the time she sat down, Cleeve had already spooned a hefty serving onto her plate.

"Your mother heard about what happened, so she called me to make sure you guys were okay."

She put down a cold glass of lemonade before sitting down opposite her. She had a small plate of rice and a glass of water. Sakura dug into the food, chewing quickly to speak again. Spices and tastes in her mouth danced as well as she remembered. Cleeve shook her head in amusement.

"She worries too much. News travels fast, huh?"

"That's a mother's job. But where's Yuki?"

"Her dearest mummykins called." Her spoon pointed next door. She forked another bite into her mouth. The rice was rapidly disappearing from her plate.  Cleeve nodded in understanding. She wolfed down the rest of the plate while and washed it down with the lemonade. Cleeve nibbled down at her serving, seemingly thinking of something. "Great as always, Cleeve."

She slid back her chair. Her dishes were loaded into the dishwasher. She grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.  She flicked the channels. There was a new show to catch, Replica. She heard the critics were raving about the young actress Reese Choi. She huffed. Talent was never equally distributed, it seems. She pressed 'record' so she wouldn't miss it.

Sakura rushed up to her bedroom. She shut her door with a satisfying thump. She took off her vest, tie and socks. Her bag was flung to the side. The light  from her window was quickly fading away. She jumped onto her bed. The fluffy mattress embraced her tired body. A bout of sleepiness overcame her. It had been a tiring day. She could afford a nap.

[the-lupine-sojourner]

Sudden Developments, Final Part 3

Dang. Here we are already, huh? The final part of @fleurie3am15inspo‘s 3-part commission. 

I had a lot of fun with this, coming up with the story and filling Fleurie’s prompt. :) 

Hope you guys like it too and if you want your own commission, or to support my writing, please consider getting your own commission. Just refer to This Post Here to get the details on how to get your own commission. I tried to make them affordable for people who want them! 

Part 1: Here! 

Part 2: Here!

Real quick; word count is 1046! Got a little wordy lol but I think it needed to be longer. I just couldn’t whittle it down any more.

Anyway, here we go!

God Bless and Good Day!

~The Lupine Sojourner

Izuku knew he was playing a dangerous game. There was hardly any reason for Shigaraki to trust him or even let him into the League, but...here he was.

“So...Izuku Midoriya…” Tomura murmurs in that creepy voice of his. Izuku made himself look neutral, unaffected, but it was hard. “What brings you here?”

If Izuku hadn’t determined what he’d say beforehand, he’d have panicked and probably said the wrong thing. But he had given what he’d say a lot of thought, and he felt fairly confident it would work. 

“...No one was there to correct those awful things that happened to me nearly every day while I was growing up. Katsuki Bakugo has been bombarding me with hateful, cruel comments and wanton violent acts since we were little kids. I’d hoped someone would stop him or he’d become mature enough to give up what he was doing to me, but the acts and words never stopped.” While all he said was true to an extent, Izuku had seen subtle improvement in Kacchan’s attitude. Whether that was because of the Kamino Ward Incident, Izuku didn’t truly know, but he did know that Kacchan was maturing and so was Izuku. “Even now he’s horrible, and no one checks his actions and words. I grew tired of it and decided to show them that bullies create monsters, that evil can take root anywhere.” That caught Shigaraki’s attention, Izuku could tell. Good. He hated lying about someone he’d known so long, but it seemed to have worked.

“So, you want to make society take more notice and action against bullies. That’s why you reached out to me?” Izuku nods. 

“Yeah. I want to make the world see that kids who are bullied shouldn’t be ignored when they report the problem. Bullying and harassment happen everyday and no one does a thing. I want to fix that, show them the consequences of standing idly by.” Shigaraki smiles. 

“Compelling, but how can I trust you? After all, you defended Bakugo from my colleagues when we tried to recruit him.” Izuku had known this question was coming, swallowing back nerves.

“I hadn’t fully decided to commit to evil. Fighting Muscular made it clear I couldn’t win against you all and the Kamino Ward Incident fully opened my eyes.” 

Shigaraki chuckles, then tilts his head, considering Izuku’s words. “Well then, welcome aboard, Midoriya.” 

=#=#=#=#=

The next hour or so was a waiting game for Izuku.

He bet UA was trying to figure out what he was thinking, and that Aizawa, if anyone, could figure out why he went with the League. He’d texted Toshinori moments before the League showed up so All Might couldn’t stop him. 

Izuku wanted to capture the League by himself to prove himself worthy of All Might’s power and the position of #1 hero eventually. If he could do that, then this would all be worth it. 

He’d earn 1-A’s trust again after probably shattering it by his apparent betrayal. He’d become a Hero and rise to the #1 spot, just like All Might had, but he’d carve his own path. He’d determine his own future. 

=#=#=#=#=

“No offense, but...why us?” Akiyama asks tentatively. Shota tilts his head, eyeing her. 

“Minato, you can create and manipulate mountains. That’s a useful ability to subdue or attack opponents. Also, you can defend against the larger-scale attacks the League can throw at us. Kirishima’s Hardening is a virtually impenetrable defense in closer quarters. Bakugo is the opposite end of the spectrum, his Quirk allowing for large scale attacks to counter the League’s. And, given that he seems to have something to do with Midoriya’s decision, he is coming to try to get through to him.” Bakugo grits his teeth. No need to remind him. This whole incident was a reliving of his worst moments. “Shoto is also here for his attack power.” Shota continues, centering the focus back on the task at hand, “And he could also help Minato in defense if necessary. That’s why you four are coming.” The team nods. They all wanted to get to the bottom of what happened and get Midoriya back. They’d do what it takes. 

There’s suddenly a knock at the door and Toshinori walks in. 

“He’s moved! The signal from the tracker jumped again. This time it’s on the edge of a 100-mile radius of Kamino Ward.” Aizawa grits his teeth. 

“Alright, we have to move quickly before the League move with him again.” The four students nod and follow their teachers. 

“They’re closer to us now but not by much.” Toshinori notes.

“Keep that signal up. We need to know the signal’s precise location at a moment’s notice.” Shota orders.

=#=#=#=#=

Arriving, the team walked quickly toward the source of the signal, wearing civilian clothes to avoid recognition of a possible tip-off of the League. So far it seemed to be working. 

However, the closer they got, the more the signal moved around. It seemed Izuku was staying relatively in the same place, but moving around that area quickly like he was…

like he was fighting.

“Come on! Let’s get moving already!” Bakugo hisses impatiently. He wanted this incident behind him. 

Shota sighs. “We go too quick and we could alert the League and jeopardize Midoriya’s safety. Now be quiet and follow my lead.” On the way to Kamino Ward, Shota had told the kids what Toshinori told him. 

Izuku had texted him about going undercover and that he shouldn’t worry cus Izuku could handle it. 

In reality, that wasn’t entirely true; Izuku seemed to be in a lot of trouble.

They needed to move quickly. Risk be damned.

=#=#=#=#=

Izuku should have known it would end like this. 

He had been out with Dabi, Toga, and Magna for some kind of initiation when he’d slipped up and blown his cover. 

He was now fighting for his life, and it was starting to look like he wouldn’t make it out. Then Aizawa and a handful of his classmates, including Katsuki, were coming around the corner. 

He foolishly assumed the villains were as distracted as he was, turning his head toward the League members. “What are you doing h- -Agh!” 

A knife, propelled by Magna’s Quirk, dug into Izuku’s back, his scream echoing eerily off the walls.