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tangledinink · 1 year

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Chapter Twelve of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is up!!! It's the moment you've all waited for-- the reveal. :000 They boys discover some things about themselves (things they once knew) and visit an unfamiliar place (a place that was once familiar.) Read it on ao3 or below the cut!

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The group’s shocked silence lasted for two, maybe three seconds before it quickly morphed into chaos.

“That’s him! That’s the goat!” Mikey shrieked, pointing wildly. “That’s the goat who has Dad!”

“Leo! Call 911!” Raph commanded. Leo scoffed loudly.

“No way! I wanna kick this guy’s ass. Make Donnie do it.”

“What?! No fair! I’ve called 911 the last six times! It’s someone else’s turn!”

“You have not! I called 911 last time!” April protested.

“That one doesn’t count!”

“Well someone’s gotta--”

“Enough!” Goatman snarled, absolutely bristling, waving his arm sharply. The air around them suddenly felt colder and stiller, and Leo shuddered, gritting his teeth as his posture stiffened. “I am not here to listen to your silly arguments. I am here to bring you home, so you can finally fulfill your purpose.”

Leo gave a short snort of laughter. “Hm, yeah, tempting, but our Daddy actually taught us not to go with creepy sheep strangers, even if they offer us free candy, soooo…”

“What?! Candy? No! I’m talking about your purpose! The reason you were created-- to eliminate the human threat! Come with me, and I can unlock your full potential!”

“How many divine purposes have we got again? ‘Cause I’m starting to lose track,” Mikey complained. Leo rolled his eyes.

“Eliminate the human threat? Yeah, uh, maybe you haven't been paying attention, but in case you haven’t noticed, we’re literally humans.”

The yokai paused for a moment. His face twisted, and he hunched his shoulders back before he gave a forced laugh. “Humans?” He echoed. “Humans?! Surely you aren’t fooled by those silly trinkets! You can’t possibly, actually believe…”

“Oh my god. This guy is, like, for real crazy,” April observed, raising her brows.

“No, you are fools!” He hissed in return. “Humans?! These ridiculous forms are completely fabricated! These are not your true selves! You are experiments! You are soldiers! You’re mutated turtles-- my greatest creations! The creations of Baron Draxum!”

“Baron Draxum? Okay, well, we’ll deal with him when he gets here… Oh… Oh-ho-ho wait! You’re doing that, like, sinister talking-about-yourself-in-third person thing, aren’t you! Oh my god, that’s rich!” Leo snorted.

“Hey! Only Raph can use the third-person!”

“I’m sorry, did he say turtles?” Mikey questioned.

“Oh my fucking god…” Leo laughed, clutching his stomach. “Turtles? I’m sorry, we’re mutant turtles?”

“This guy can’t be serious,” Raph muttered.

“Uh, yeah, I’m pretty sure we would have noticed by now if we were reptiles,” Donnie scoffed, one hand on his hip. “Let alone subjects of some kind of biochemical experiments. Which I am intimately familiar with, by the way. Do you have any idea how many community gardens I’ve been banned from?”

“This can’t…” The yokai shook his head, a hand on his brow. “How could you be tricked by such simple magic? I will show you if I have to.”

“Oh, I’d love to see that,” Donnie muttered.

“Come with me--”

“You are out of your damn mind if you think we’re goin’ anywhere with you!” Raph cut in.

“Maybe if you prove that turtle hypothesis thing you have going on, we can discuss it from there,” Donnie laughed, one brow quirked, sounding caught somewhere between exasperated and amused. Honestly, this whole thing was a little bit fucking hilarious. It was also fucking horrible and scary because their dad was missing and a magic criminal had them cornered in an alley, but like. Seriously. Mutant turtles? You can’t make this stuff up, dude.

Draxum sighed very deeply, scowling at their group.

“Very well,” he said, and he snapped his fingers.

Things became unfunny very, very quickly.

If the air had become cold earlier, now it became startlingly hot, just for a moment, the alley rising up at least five degrees, and Leo heard this choked, startled gasp that he immediately recognized as his twin brother. At the same time, a blinding, almost familiar flash of white light overtook the alley, and Leo hissed, flinching away.

When he looked back, he was horrified to find that where his brother had been standing just a moment ago there was instead some sort of green, scaled creature, their eyes slitted and their skin leathery and bumped, and he thought, what the hell happened to my brother? And after a moment of silence, all of them staring in dazed shock, the reptile flailed, floundered, held its own hands up to its face as if to examine them, and promptly began screaming.

And Leo recognized his own brother's screams, so instead he was thinking: what the hell happened to my brother?!

“What did you do?!” Leo shrieked. Behind him, Mikey screamed, too, and he could hear April spluttering out an impressive string of curse words. He just barely resisted the urge to race over to Donnie’s side, to check if he was okay, (he’s not okay, he knows he’s not okay,) to try to help him, to fix it, because he couldn’t just turn his back on the enemy in front of them-- couldn’t ignore the very obvious threat.

“I simply removed the cloaking enchantment as he requested,” Draxum responded calmly. He even looked amused, almost, the very corners of his lips turning up.

“You what!? What the hell are you-- fix it!!! Turn him back!!!” Leo demanded, his voice rising with the very edges of panic, his pulse climbing ever-steadily higher the longer he listened to his siblings scream.

The other sighed deeply, tilting their head to the side. “Do you still not understand? Fine, then. I’ll show you as well.”

Snap.

Leo wouldn’t describe the experience as painful, but it really wasn’t pleasant, either. He swore he could feel his skin being stripped away and reforming; it was like his skeleton itself was being rearranged, his entire body becoming fluid for just a split second before solidifying again in new places, new patterns, new spaces. An unfamiliar weight pulled at his shoulders, forcing his spine to bend, and his hands and feet fell in a way that now felt unnatural to him. His skin seemed to lay over his muscles differently now.

He was vaguely aware of Mikey screaming somewhere behind him a second time, echoing Donatello’s continued wails.

“Guys?” April bit out, her voice high and frightened.

What the hell happened to him?

“What-- what did you do?” Leo repeated himself, his eyes wide, straining, because his vision was ever-so-slightly different than it had been a few seconds ago and he didn’t know how to adjust. He swore to god he was frozen in place. He wasn’t sure when he had ended up on his knees, but he was shaking so hard, he supposed he wasn’t surprised.

What the fuck happened to his body?

“Now are you convinced?” The yokai pressed. “Now, we will be going to my lab whether you want to or not. We can either do this the easy way or the hard way. I would highly recommend the easy way,” he hummed, giving a sharp sweep of his arms. Wind tugged at his back and Leo had just barely the presence of mind to glance behind him, his eyes widening in horror to see this huge expanse of black opening up behind him.

Mikey-- (Mikey? They were small, they were wearing Mikey’s clothes, it must be Mikey--) yelped loudly, the inky cloud yanking him from his feet. April jumped, attempting to grab her baby brother, though she only succeeded in falling into him-- both of them swallowed up into the portal. Raph gave a strangled howl of protest, diving right after them, and Donnie was sucked up as well, disappearing from Leo’s sight. His heart thudded wildly in his ears. He could feel the magick yanking at him, trying to pull him in as well.

But Leo had always been the fastest.

Every shred of him was screaming to follow, to chase after his family, to go with his sister and brothers, but he tensed his muscles, his stance widening and holding firm as he set his sights back on the yokai towering before him. A tiny voice in his head whispered in his ears that following wouldn’t help--

No, he had to move forward. This guy was the one hurting them.

Get him.

Leo wasn’t sure if he had leapt forward or if he simply was there. Everything was moving too quickly for even him to follow, the blinding white of panic and rage eating hungrily at the edges of his vision, threatening to overtake him. Either way, he lunged, a cry of protective fury wringing itself from his chest.

"Stay away from my brothers," he snarled, his own throat staggering painfully with the force with which he screamed out his warning, his hands flying forward to grab the yokai by his throat, slamming into him at full speed. He felt the alien velvet fuzz of Draxum’s skin beneath the tear of his fingernails (claws) even as the pair of them were flung from their feet. Gravity was stolen from them both, the portal behind them reaching out to consume them.

Everything went black. For just a second, tumbling through nothingness, floating through the sizzling rush of magick itself, Leo couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t hear anything, all he could feel was the body of the yokai against him, struggling against his grip, attempting to throw him away.

And then this bright, searing lavender light came singing through the world. It didn’t reflect or bounce; nothing was lit up by it. Leo still could not see himself, could not even find the outline of his own hands or fingers. But this brilliant, complex pattern of the palest, gentlest pastel purple lit up bright before him, swirling and twisting in foreign shapes, and Leo just barely recognized that the ribbon of runes they formed echoed the shape of the yokai he had just grabbed.

The body he was clinging to went limp.

The next second, the wind was knocked out of him as they made impact with stone, light coming streaming back into his universe. Leo found himself landing in a heap in their new location, the portal disappearing behind them. Oddly, however, the crash landing didn’t hurt near as much as he would have expected it to.

“Leo!” He heard Raph cry. Leo groaned, still dazed, looking around blearily. Where the hell were they? He glanced over at the yokai who he had yanked through the portal with them, only to find them in an awkward slump just a few paces away, completely limp and seemingly unconscious.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Raph demanded, moving quickly to his side. Mikey was already all bundled up in his arms, shaking like a leaf and absolutely clinging to him for dear life like he was going to fall apart if he let go. And Leo couldn’t even blame him if he did. Mikey had always been the smallest of them, and Raph always the biggest, but Leo thought dimly that the size difference between them now was fucking bananas.

Jesus christ. Raph was fucking huge. And… spiky. Was he a goddamn dinosaur? What the fuck.

“I-- yeah-- I-- I think the goatman got knocked out--” He stammered, still reeling slightly, trying to collect himself, to gather himself, adrenaline still rushing through his veins like it was a racetrack.

Somewhere in the background, Donnie fucking screamed, and Leo immediately forgot about everything else, his head whipping around.

“Donnie!” He cried, on his feet in a second, rushing over to his brother’s side. He had no idea where they were, not having yet taken stock of the location. He was only dimly aware that they were someplace cold and dark, with stone and concrete above, below, and around them. Donnie had pressed himself up against one of the walls, his entire body rigid and his head bent forward, his arms fluttering wildly beside his head in such a way that Leo recognized he was fighting not to hit himself. Good job, Dee. The screaming continued, but every wail that wrenched its way out of Donnie’s mouth was short and grinding, repeating itself over and over like an alarm. It was fucking terrifying. Not for him, but for Donnie, because he could tell that they were completely, totally not in control. Just panicking.

“Hey. Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m right here, Don. It’s alright. It’s okay, you’re safe, I’m right here, hermano,” he tried to soothe, forcing his voice down, calm, steady. He knew better than to touch Donnie, but he would reach over just long enough to tap a button on the side of his headphones that he knew would flip the device into white noise mode. Donnie jerked slightly in response, and the screaming stopped, at least, but he didn’t relax. His arms still fluttered and flapped anxiously, and he shifted just enough to begin rocking back and forth, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so hard that Leo was afraid he was going to hurt himself. His chest absolutely shook with the panicked, shuddering breaths he was taking, hyperventilating so hard that his entire body trembled in response.

“Come on, Donnie, it’s alright. It’s okay. We’re safe, Mikey and Raph and April are safe, we’re gonna be okay, but you’ve gotta breathe, dude. Can you try it with me? Like this? We’ve gotta calm down a little bit--” Leo pressed on because this was not his first rodeo. He wasn’t quite as adept at handling these things as their dad was, and at this point, Donnie was pretty good at avoiding meltdowns and panic attacks, armed with tools and tricks and years of therapy, but sometimes they were unavoidable and Leo had always known how to calm them down, always been able to step up and help, the same way Donnie could for him--

But Donnie wasn’t calming down. Donnie wouldn’t even look up at him. Rather, Donnie scrunched up harder, curled his lips, and fucking hissed at him.

And, okay, look, it wasn’t the first time Donnie had hissed at them. Donnie used to love to hiss at people when they were little kids, though nowadays he was more likely to express annoyance with declarations such as “groan” or “scoff” or “eye-roll.” But he didn’t hiss like this.

He sounded fucking feral. Even more than that, he sounded fucking terrified. He looked like a goddamn cornered animal, his eyes blown out and huge, the scaly skin that now made up his form stretched tight over shivering muscles and his lips drawn back over sharp, pointed teeth. And Leo looked down at his own clawed, three-fingered hand and came to a horrible realization.

He couldn’t help because Donnie couldn’t recognize him. They were panicking because they were in this crazy, fucked up body that wasn’t theirs, and Leo was in a fucked up body that wasn’t his, and looking at him was just a reminder of everything wrong. He was just scaring them more. His being here was just making things worse, and Leo’s throat tied itself in a knot, swelling up as the backs of his eyes pinched with the thought.

“April,” he called, his voice cracking slightly as he desperately turned to look for his sister. She wasn’t far off, watching from a short distance with obvious worry, and she blinked in surprise at the sound of her name.

“Help me.”

---

If Leo was being completely honest, he hadn’t even realized that Donnie wasn’t still nearby. The two of them typically stuck together like glue whenever they were at school. Leo would usually lead the way, and Donnie would trail after, with Leo doing most of the talking and socializing for both of them. And once Donnie got sick of whatever they were doing, he would simply drag Leo off to sit and read or work on some project or puzzle for a while, and Leo would oblige and keep him company. Donnie was always close by, and Leo wasn’t even aware that this wasn’t currently the case, too absorbed in his latest arts and crafts project, until he heard a telltale, high-pitched whine from across the room.

He was on his feet in seconds, abandoning the activity and his classmates to scuttle off in search of his twin brother. Luckily, he wasn’t too hard to find. Both because he was pretty loud, and also because their substitute teacher was crouched down next to him. She was nice enough, Leo thought, but not quite as cool as Miss Mitchelle was, and he wasn’t sure if Donnie liked her at all. It definitely didn’t seem like he liked her too much right now with how he was all balled up, and Leo wasted no time at all in planting himself physically between the two.

Donnie immediately gravitated towards his brother and Leo moved a bit closer in turn, giving Miss Substitute (he didn’t remember her name,) a very displeased look.

“He doesn’t like whatever you’re doing,” he declared firmly.

Miss Substitute’s expression twitched and faltered for a moment before it settled back into something patient and pleasant, though Leo still didn’t quite trust it. “Leo,” she said, “I was just trying to talk with your brother--”

“I can talk to him,” Leo assured immediately, not bothering to listen to the remainder of her sentence because he couldn’t imagine it would be all that important or interesting. He turned to face Donnie instead. “It’s okay. I can always understand him, ‘cause we have a secret twin language. We made it up. Only we can speak it,” he declared proudly, crouching down to lean in towards his brother, his arms wrapped around his knees.

Donnie was still whining a bit, curled up into a ball and shoved halfway inside of a cubby, his arms crossed protectively over his head as he rocked. And yeah, he was obviously upset, though Leo wasn’t completely sure why yet. As such, he got to work, conversing with his twin in the previously mentioned secret twin language.

… And.

Okay.

So.

They didn’t actually have a secret twin language.

But it was close enough! It wasn’t a language, per se, ‘cause it didn’t have words, just noises and chirps and trills and squeaks and babbles. But he still always got the gist of what Donnie was saying, and Donnie would get the gist of what he was saying, too, so it worked. Sooner or later, he could pretty much always get an understanding of what Donnie was meaning based on the inflection or tone of his noises, as well as calm the other down enough so that Leo could coax a couple of signs out of him, so Leo figured it was close enough to language.

Plus, the ‘language’ itself always seemed to kind of settle Donnie down when he was upset like this. Once Leo started humming and squeaking at him, Donnie gradually started to answer with his own chirps and clicks, and, little by little, Leo watched their twin’s body untense and unwind. Leo grinned, moving to sit properly by him, and Donnie moved closer, edging just a bit out of his hiding spot so he could shove himself up against Leo’s side instead, resting his head against his shoulder and settling in there, an indignant scowl still on his face.

Leo grinned, puffing out his chest a bit as he shot Miss Substitute a look. See? He told her so. He and Donnie always understood each other, no matter what, and he could always fix it when Donnie wasn’t feeling good! He was basically the best brother in the entire world. Confident that he understood the problem, he turned back to face Miss Substitute.

“He said you’re not doing the schedule right, and we’re supposed to do math right now,” he announced, crossing his arms over his chest. And he hadn’t even noticed, but Donnie was right, they did usually do math lessons during this part of the day-- not arts and crafts. “And also, he doesn’t like the paper fish we’re doing ‘cause the glue feels bad. So we gotta find something else to do,” he insisted. “‘Cause otherwise Donnie and I aren’t playing.”

Donnie nodded a tiny bit from behind him, and Leo beamed with pride. Understanding Donnie and calming him down wasn’t even that hard. He didn’t get why adults besides Dad had such a hard time with it sometimes. You really just had to listen to him.

---

It took a while for April to calm Donnie back down, (or at least get him as calm as they possibly could be in such circumstances,) but she managed after a bit, his panicked breaths eventually dying down into something a bit more even and steady. Thank god. Mikey thought dimly to himself that he had never seen Donnie freak out so bad, but... he supposed he couldn't really blame him.

He frowned a bit, looking down at his own, unfamiliar hands, and he curled up a bit more, his tail tucking in (oh my god, he had a tail,) as he clung to Raph's plastron (oh my god, Raph had a plastron.) And though it still held comfort, the fold of his biggest brother's arms, bundled up close and held there, this place that he had known his whole life... it suddenly felt foreign, too. Everything was hard and jagged and cold. And even worse-- it was unfamiliar.

He kept staring at his own hands because he couldn't stop himself, and it made his stomach wobble. He wondered bleakly what his own face looked like because he had no idea. He wouldn't even recognize himself in the mirror.

Now that Donnie had finally settled a bit, though he was still curled up and pressed just against April's side, just barely not touching but still squeezed up small against her, Leo finally got up to his feet-- only to immediately lose his balance, falling over onto his back with a loud clunk.

"Leo!" Raph's eyes widened, his muscles immediately bunching up, ready to jump up and go grab his brother. Mikey could tell that he was just barely resisting the urge to scoop up all three of them and bundle them up in his arms and just hang onto them for a while. He had been sitting here long enough for Mikey to notice how fast his heart was beating. Mikey’s was keeping pace. Leo kind of flailed for a second before he managed to redirect the momentum to roll over onto his side, getting himself back onto his hands and knees. A wry, strangled laugh forced its way out of him.

"Alright. Well. Pro tip: center of gravity is weird now," he remarked dryly, his voice strained. "But the good news is falling doesn't even hurt anymore! So that’s great!"

It didn't get a laugh out of anyone. After a moment of hesitation, Mikey slowly wriggled his way from Raph's grip, making his way over to Leo's side. He didn't dare try to walk after watching Leo's attempt, noting that it seemed to be more difficult now without the rush of adrenaline to aid them, so he instead stayed in a crouch, sort of half-hopping-half-crawling over. Raph followed shortly after in a similar manner.

"Can I see?" He questioned softly, and when Leo didn't deny him, he leaned over slightly, moving his hoodie (which was now a very awkward fit,) out of the way enough so that he could examine the edges of his brother's new shell.

(Oh my god. His brother's shell. What kind of a sentence was that? What kind of weird, fucked up make-believe world were they suddenly in? Leo was his brother. He didn't have a shell. He had cool brown skin. He had bouncy blonde curls that Mikey had helped him bleach and dye a red streak in. He had vitiligo 'stripes' over his eyes. He had a bad habit of cycling through boyfriends and insomnia and a shockingly large vocabulary... but he didn't have a shell. He didn't have scales or stripes or claws or a tail.)

He looked anyway, running the tips of his fingers over the top of it, following the curve. He couldn't quite tell if he was feeling the texture of the shell, or just the texture of his own fingers, which were different than they had been; covered in scales, the skin thicker and rougher than it had been before. Bending his joints felt odd, and he couldn't help himself from doing it over and over, as if that might help him get used to it faster.

Every part of his brother’s shell was this cool, ocean blue, just edging on teal in some places, and Mikey thought to himself that, in the very least, it matched his life color perfectly.

He swallowed hard and resisted the tears that were building up in his eyes. He didn’t want to cry right now. He didn’t even know what he was crying about. Because he was scared? Because he was overwhelmed? He wasn’t very good at not crying, but he forced it down, his hands trembling a bit with the effort of it.

"Does it look the same as mine?" He heard himself asking, his eyes flickering over to meet Leo's (which were now not something he recognized, looking more animal than person, though they still retained the same, familiar almond shape. The color, however, he realized, was slightly different. Leo's eyes were brown. All of their eyes were brown, so dark that they were almost black, but now, instead, Leo's eyes were mismatched; one of them dark blue, like water in a cove, like the sea at night, and the other dark red, like ink with blood, like black cherries.)

"I dunno," Leo laughed, though his voice was still shaking. "I don't know what mine looks like."

"They're... kinda the same…" Raph observed from nearby, leaning over slightly to examine them both. His voice sounded kind of hollow, like he wasn’t really there. Sort of far-off. "I mean. The parts I can see. Mikey, yours is more... orangey. And bumpier," he said. "And yours is spotty. Leo's is kinda... stripey."

"Yours is huge," Leo observed with a chuckle, glancing over at their biggest brother, who was always the tallest and largest by a wide margin, but now absolutely dwarfed the rest of them. "And... spiky. You're all spiky. And… and fucking huge, dude. You look like you have fucking paws. And your mouth is all..." He laughed again, scrubbing anxiously at his face with his hands. "You look like a fucking snapping turtle."

Mikey paused a bit at that, glancing over at the other.

Donnie must have said or signed something that the rest of them didn’t catch, because April spoke up next, clearly addressing him. "Uhm, no, yours is... uh. It's kind of flat? And..." There was a pause. "Oh, oh my god, it's, like, squishy!" She squealed, everyone else in the room jumping in response, before she tamped down the noise, biting her lip and getting a handle on her reaction. "Sorry! Sorry, I just. I just wasn't expecting that texture, that's all! It doesn't... feel like what I thought a shell would feel like, I guess."

"Are we different kinds of... turtles?" Mikey questioned, tilting his head to the side. He wanted to laugh at himself when he said turtles. I mean, seriously, turtles? Of all the creatures in the world, turtles? Why were they turtles?

"I guess we must be," Leo sighed, resting his chin on his knee. "We obviously look different."

Mikey frowned, and he thought that his lips might be trembling if he had proper lips anymore, but he wasn't sure if he did or if they could tremble or what that would feel like if they did. Okay, fine. Now there were a few tears.

"Does that mean we're not brothers?"

A beat of silence followed.

"We're not," Donnie said, and quite frankly, Mikey was surprised to hear him speaking. Small miracles? Kinda…?

"Yeah, we are. Don't be crazy," Raph immediately refuted, his brows (er... brows? Place where brows once were?) furrowing together, and Mikey was desperately relieved to see that the space in between still wrinkled into a crease the same way they always did. "Of course we're brothers."

"Evidently, we're not even the same species," Donnie hissed out bitterly, drawing himself up even closer, even smaller, into a little ball. "It's literally impossible."

"Come on, Dee--"

"We're not even human!" Donnie snapped, hunching up his shoulders. "We're not even people!"

"Hey, look, come on you guys," April tried to soothe, holding up her hands as if to calm the group. "It doesn't matter if you're turtles! It doesn't matter to me. I love you guys no matter what--"

"Oh, wow, what a comfort!" Donnie scoffed, and April bristled.

"Okay, look, I am trying to be helpful! I know that this fucking sucks but you do not need to take out your nasty attitude on me!"

Leo suddenly laughed-- loudly, painfully-- tilting his head back and letting his shoulders slump so he could stare up at the ceiling. "Oh my god. Jesus christ. We're not people," he bit out in between his barely restrained hysterics, squeezing his eyes shut. "We're freaks, dude!"

"Leo, c'mon."

"We're not even people!!!" He repeated. "Fuck. We never even had a chance, and we didn't even know it!... Oh my god, we’re such morons!!! Hahaha-- welp! This is it! Pack it in, boys, it’s all over!"

"Leo, chill. What are you even talkin’ about?"

"Did you know I was gonna go on T?" He questioned, turning around sharply, suddenly, to face Raph. "Me and Dad were talking about it. For, like, a while now. And I was gonna start T, finally. Do you know how much I wanted to do that? Do you know how long I've been waiting to get to do that?"

Raph frowned. "Leo... This doesn't mean--"

"How the fuck is that going to work now!?" He interrupted. "How is anything gonna work now? We're fucking! REPTILES! Raph!!!"

"I KNOW THAT!" Now Raph was yelling, too, and Mikey flinched a bit, hiccuping softly as he drew himself down, retreating slightly, halfway into his shell (oh my god, he can do that now?) "You think you're the only one who was lookin' forward to stuff? I was--" He cut himself off, breathing in deep and then letting it out slow, his jaw tensed.

"Look. I know this... sucks. But it's not gonna help to just throw in the towel right now and mourn shit that we don't even know is gone yet, alright? We'll... figure it out," he said. "We don’t even know what’s goin’ on, so let’s just… let's just try to figure it out first. Okay?"

Leo frowned. He looked down and to the side, tightening his hands into fists, but he didn't have any rebuttal. After a moment, he took a deep breath, pulling himself up to his feet for a second time. He tottered for a moment, his arms windmilling until he found his balance and this time he stayed on his feet. He looked around the room for a moment before his eyes fell on the limp form of Baron Draxum, still crumpled in a heap some odd paces away.

"What do we do with that guy?"

All of their eyes snapped over, as though they had all just remembered that he was there in the first place.

"Did you knock him out, dude?!" Raph questioned, his eyes widening slightly.

"No! I mean. I don't think so. Not exactly," Leo said. "It's, like-- he grabbed me and some sort of mystic-magic-whatever thing happened. He lit up with a bunch of symbols and he just... went down. I dunno what happened."

"Well," Raph said, sighing deeply before he pulled himself to his feet as well, doing a similar rock and wobble to Leo before he figured out the new balance he had to strike, correcting his own footing. His long tail swung back and forth behind him, assumedly on instinct, to help. "We dunno how long he's gonna stay down, so we oughta find a way out of here and put some distance between us and him ASAP. We already know where Dad is, anyway."

"Maybe we can figure out where we are," Donnie mumbled bleakly, pulling himself to his feet as well. He seemed to struggle much less than his brothers did, and Mikey noted that his back rounded less than theirs. April got up as well, sticking close to his side, but perhaps hovering a bit less now.

Mikey watched as his family rose up, one by one, finding their feet again. And something in his chest unwound and loosened again. A breath he hadn't realized he had been holding came tumbling out of him.

He didn't know his own face anymore. And he didn't recognize his brothers when he looked at them.

But they were still them. Already, Mikey was completely sure of it. And the change, while still terrifying, felt just a tiny bit less devastating.

He hadn’t lost them yet.

Bracing himself for the coming challenge, he rose up to his feet as well. The unfamiliar weight on his back was more than he had expected and attempted to drag him down, and he stumbled slightly, nearly toppling over onto his back the same way Leo had the first time-- but Raph grabbed his wrist before he could, pulling him forward and correcting him, and Mikey was relieved to find his center of gravity once more. Usually, he would complain about his big brother stepping in, preferring to do things on his own rather than being 'babied' by his older family members, but...

Right now, it was actually okay.

"Okay. Let's do this."

(They took about three steps before Raph yelped and tripped over his own tail.)

---

Though they had tied up the so-called "Baron Draxum" with whatever rope and other scrap they could find in this place, (the longer they were here, the more Donnie began to suspect it was a lab of some kind,) none of them were very confident that it would be able to hold him for very long, if at all, and so they all got to work trying to figure out an exit. But to call this place 'maze-like' was a bit of an understatement.

"This is the worst landmark ever," April hissed in frustration as they turned a corner, only to once again be met with a hog-tied yokai, face-down on the concrete. "We keep going in circles!"

"Okay, look," Donnie sighed. "I know we don't want to linger here any more than we have to, but let's look around a bit and see if there's anything useful lying around to get us out of here. Clearly just walking out isn't getting us anywhere."

There was a chorus of grunts and mumbles of agreement from the rest of his family, and the group slowly fanned out, beginning their search. It was dark here, wherever they were. The ground beneath his feet was cold, with him and his brothers having already ditched and stowed their sneakers and boots after realizing how awkward and painful it was to walk in them with their new wide, two-toed feet.

The space was wide and almost circular, with various tunnels branching off at different levels, all leading away to who-knew-where. Several desks and tables were scattered about the space, each surface covered in everything from charts to pipettes to oddly-shaped jars filled with oddly-colored substances. Donnie just barely resisted the urge to sit down and start working, or to begin snatching and pocketing things as he found them. Instead, he took a liberal amount of photographs of everything they found on his phone.

His impulse control could only get him so far, however, and his eyes narrowed as they fell across a small, purpley-pink gem that lay on the desk, suspended within a small glass case. This certainly looked interesting... Geology wasn't really a passion of his, but something about this just seemed... intriguing. He couldn't quite place it...

Surely no one would miss this, right? It was small! It would be silly not to take it, quite frankly, and he slipped it into his pocket as quietly as he could when he was sure no one else was looking.

Now, if only he could find some blueprints of the tunnels... But that would be too easy, wouldn't it?

"So," Mikey said after a minute or so of them searching, and Donnie sighed internally. Of course, they couldn't expect him to stay quiet for that long. "If Raph is a snapping turtle, and me and Leo are turtle-turtles, then what kind of a turtle is Donnie?"

Donnie rolled his eyes, scowling. "Okay, well, first of all, do we really have to discuss this?" He hissed, immediately bristling. "I’d highly prefer we not address the proverbial elephant in the room, thank you! Second of all, 'turtle-turtle' is not a species."

"Yeah, but, like, we have turtle shells!" Mikey explained. "But April said yours is squishy. So what does that make you?"

Donnie sighed deeply. Talking about this made his skin itch.

"A softshell turtle, I suppose."

"A softshell?" Leo questioned, raising a brow. "That's a thing?"

"Yes."

"How do you know that off the top of your head?" Raph questioned.

"Some of us actually paid attention during biology classes," he responded dryly. And having a near-photographic memory did, admittedly, help as well…

"Whoa!" Mikey absolutely beamed. "That's so cool! Now we just gotta figure out what kind of turtles me and Leo are!"

"Well, I'd look it up if we had any service. And also if it was even close to being an appropriate time for us to waste our efforts on something like that," Donnie said with a roll of his eyes. He knew that Mikey was just distracting himself, finding a silver lining so he didn’t break down, but Donnie didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to think about how much of their entire lives was completely fabricated, about how--

He snorted, suddenly doubling over with laughter.

"What?" April questioned, raising a brow.

"I just-- I just realized!" Donnie laughed. "Our... our moms must be turtles! Fucking turtles!"

There was a beat of silence as this sunk in before Raph gave a similar reaction. "Damn! I guess you're right, huh?"

"Do you have any idea how much time I wasted in therapy talking about this?" Donnie squeaked out through giggles. "I spent so much time with Mossy talking about our mom and how she didn't want us or whatever the fuck and about the stuff she did to Dad and how I couldn't remember her, and she-- she was never even real! None of that ever even happened! She was just a fucking turtle, wasn't she!? We don’t even have a real mom!"

"Whoa! Mind... blown. I didn't even think about that..." Mikey gaped, his eyes wide. "This whole time I just assumed that our mom was probably the hotel lady..."

"Yeah, me too," Leo agreed.

Donnie blinked.

"You what?"

"Well, you know, that woman that Dad was datin’ right before he disappeared," Raph said. "And she runs the Grand Nexus Hotel, right? All the articles I ever read always mentioned her."

Donnie's eyes twitched. "You thought she was our mother?" He questioned.

"Well, that's who Dad was datin’ last! And for a long time, too. It'd make sense, wouldn't it?" Raph defended.

"Yeah. You didn't think that?" Leo said.

"NO! Why would I think that?!" Donnie was laughing again.

Leo huffed in offense, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry, do you know something we don't?"

"Apparently!" Donnie exclaimed. "Guys, you've seen pictures of her, right?!"

"Well, yeah?" Mikey tilted his head to the side.

"She's pale as fuck!"

"So?"

"And our Dad is Japanese!"

"And? Donnie, what's your point?"

"We're black!"

"... Ooooohhhhh," all three of his brothers said, nearly in unison, after Donnie's argument finally sunk in.

"Oh my god," Donnie laughed, covering his face with his hands, scrubbing tears from his eyes. "You're all so fucking dumb..."

"I guess our mom would have had to be black. I mean. We got the Japanese half from Dad, but... I never really thought about where the other half came from..." Raph admitted, his mouth still slightly agape like he was still rolling the thought about in his head.

"Wait a minute," April said, her hands on her hips. "I mean, yeah, all that makes sense, but if you guys have secretly been turtles this whole time, then why are you black?"

"Dude, are all turtles black?" Mikey questioned, his eyes widening.

"I cannot discuss this any further. I'll get a migraine and furthermore cease to function, as I am, and I cannot stress this enough, just barely suppressing the gravity of this whole situation right now," Donnie sighed, gesturing to himself as he turned back to the desk in front of him. "Did anyone find anything yet?"

"Not yet," April sighed, shuffling through some papers. "What even is all this junk?"

"I'm not sure. Some sort of research, it seems like..." Donnie mused, sort of thumbing through a book as he spoke, reading key phrases and chunks of text as quickly as he could and making mental notes so he could refer back to it later. He was more than happy to have something else to focus on, though this would admittedly be a lot easier with human hands. "But I'm still not sure where--"

Shhhh shhhh.

Donnie paused mid-sentence, his brows furrowed. He hadn't noticed that sound before now. He tilted his head a bit to the side, turning in its direction, trying to zero in.

"... Donnie?"

"What's that noise?" He questioned aloud, though his voice was barely above a whisper.

Shhhh shhhhh.

He knew that noise. He recognized it. Where had he heard it before?

Shhhh shhhhh.

... Water, he realized with a start. The noise was running water. Of course. How had he never realized this before?...

That's what he was hearing. That's what he had heard.

"Dee? You good?"

"Guys," he said, turning just enough to glance over in their direction. His face suddenly felt like glass. It was odd. "I think... I think we're in the sewer," he said. "... And I think we've been here before...?"

Before anyone could say anything further, a new noise filled up the space.

Skrrrtttccchhhhh.

---

"What was that?!" Mikey shrieked, immediately leaping behind his biggest brother to hide. Leo and Donnie were instantly gravitating to each other as well, falling into stance on instinct as they stood back to back, each covering the other.

"It sounds like something scratching," April said thoughtfully, and true to her word, the same skritching noise clawed its way through the air a moment later, echoing slightly against the walls. "I think it's coming from over here!"

"April!" Raph hissed off a protest as she took off, heading in the direction of the sound. "We don't know what that is!"

"We will if we go look!" She chirped in reply. I mean, come on, what was the benefit of hiding over here instead of investigating? Weren't they curious either way? Besides, they were stuck here regardless-- maybe they'd find something helpful.

The noise continued as April searched, peering around corners and down tunnels, until, finally, she found her prize. Tucked inside one of the off-shoot tunnels, one of the many dead-ends that seemed to surround this space, was a proverbial treasure trove. A variety of odds and ends filled the space; various amulets and scrolls and chests and even weapons were leaned up against the wall or stacked up on the ground. In fact, a lot of weapons were in here. Was this some kind of a weird armory? Or a trophy room? What kind of sewer has a trophy room?

But most interestingly, she found the source of the noise. Inside a small, dimly lit orb, looking as though it were made of some sort of glass, or perhaps even light, was one of the oddest creatures April had ever seen, clawing sadly at the surface of its prison. It had ears like a chihuahua, pointed and too big for its head, with tufts of fur poofing out from inside, but huge eyes like some kind of a cat. Pointed tusks stuck from its mouth like a boar, but soft, downy yellow-and-blue fur covered its entire, squirrel-like body, complete with a fluffy, wriggly tail.

"AW, you guyyssss!" She called out. "Come look! It's cute!"

"April!" The guys were right behind her, with Raph leading the charge. "You can't just run off like-- jumpin' jack flash! What the heck is that thing?!"

"I dunno!" April said with a shrug, immediately making her way into the room, scooping up the orb so she could examine it, looking for a way to open it up. The little critter inside pattered about excitedly, its claws clicking against the smooth surface. "Help me figure out how to get him outta here."

"Are you sure about that?" Leo questioned. "No offense, but we have nooo idea what that thing is! Maybe it's, I dunno, locked up for a reason?"

"What? C'mon, guys, we've gotta help!" Mikey protested, turning on them with big, pleading eyes. Nice, April thought, with Mikey on her side she had basically already won. Suck it, middle children. "Plus, he was locked up by Draxum. So he can't be bad!"

"Yeah! Ever heard ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend?’" April added in.

"I'm not convinced," Donnie said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I mean, has anyone else noticed that pretty much everything else in this room is a weapon of some kind? Isn't that maybe a bit telling?"

"Aw, come on, Dee. Look at this face!" April insisted, holding up the orb to the others. The creature, to their credit, played their part, pulling an absolutely pitiful face which Mikey immediately echoed, turning to his brothers with watery eyes.

Checkmate.

"Okay, okay, fine. Look, there's gotta be something in here that can help us bust him out..." Leo muttered, beginning to pick his way through the contents of the room with Raph, Donnie, and Mikey following suit shortly after.

"Here, what about these?" Leo said after a moment, turning to face them with a pair of twin katanas in hand. "Think I could slice that bad boy open with these guys?"

April scoffed, clutching the orb close to her chest. "Uhm, and this guy in half, maybe!" She protested. "Can we try something a little less deadly, please?"

"Aw, come on! These are cool," Leo protested, grinning as he twirled them in his hands with a metallic shwing.

"You just like them because you always win at any swordsmanship event at tournaments," Donnie remarked dryly, grabbing a long wooden staff to hold in his hands, testing the weight of it. "... That being said, should we maybe grab some of these just in case?"

"Whaddya mean?" Raph glanced over at the other.

"Well, we haven't even made it to the Hidden City yet, and we've already been attacked once," Donnie reasoned, placing a hand on his hip and frowning. "So it wouldn't exactly be a bad idea to have some weapons on hand in case of an emergency." He spun the bo staff in his hands appraisingly a few times. "I mean, obviously this is a bit underwhelming, but I'm sure I could make some improvements once we got back home..."

"Sounds like a good plan to me! Look at all the stuff they’ve got!” Mikey cheered, immediately diving in, beginning to sort through all the various options they had in the room. He chuckled darkly, swinging a pair of nun-chucks in his hands. “These’ll do…”

“Yo, guys!” Raph called, waving to get his brothers’ attention before pointing to the very far corner of the room. “If we’re gonna take stuff, why don’t we take the glowy ones?”

There was, in fact, a weapons rack filled with floating, vaguely glowing weapons, tucked away in the shadows, which only made the glow all that much more tempting. They were simply begging to be taken.

Mikey and Leo, almost in unison, gasped, their faces absolutely lighting up as they raced over to join Raph. “Ooh, dibs on the sword!” Leo cheered, immediately snatching up the odachi and repeatedly striking poses.

“Hot soup! Check me out!” Mikey snatched up a bright orange kusari-fundo, absolutely beaming ear-to-ear. Raph was nearly drooling as he laid his claim on a pair of tonfas, beaming as he gave a few experimental swings.

“They’re perfect! No one’ll mess with us now!”

“What about you, Donnie?” April questioned, tilting her head back to glance at the remaining brother. “Don’t you want a glowy weapon?”

“And add yet another unknown, uncontrolled variable to our current situation? I’m good,” Donnie scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’ve trained with a regular, wooden bo staff. I’ll fight with a wooden bo staff, thank you very much. You all have fun with your likely-radioactive weaponry,” he said, waving them off.

“Here, April, I got something for you, too,” Mikey chirped excitedly, scampering over to present his find to her. “Ta-da!!! Baseball bat!”

It wasn’t a baseball bat-- it was a club. But close enough! April gasped in delight. “It’s perfect!” She enthused, immediately snatching it up, rolling it around in her hands and tapping it against the side of her shoe a few times. Ooh, and the weight was perfect, too. “And I think it can help us get little guy out of this ball thingie, too! Leo, come hold it still for me!”

"Aw man, why do I gotta hold it?" Leo muttered in complaint but did as he was told regardless, kneeling down to hold the orb steady, taking care in the placement of his hands to minimize the chances of broken fingers.

"Alright," April said, backing up a bit, her tongue sticking out from between her lips with focus. "This won't hurt a bit..."

She swung the club back, taking care to temper her strength, and brought it down on the little ball prison with a satisfying crunch.

"Did it work?" Mikey gasped, his eyes wide as he leaned over. The orb was not shattered nor laying in pieces; but the side of it had caved in considerably, a spiderweb of cracks blossoming from it, and a second later, it simply dissolved as if it had never been there in the first place. The creature that had previously been trapped inside cracked one eye open, having squeezed itself into the very back of its cage, flinching at the oncoming impact, gave an absolute trill of excitement, darting about in celebration.

"There we go!" April said, grinning wide, her hands planted on her hips. "See, told ya I'd get you outta there! That's better, right?"

The little yellow beast threw itself into her lap, wriggling with joy and nuzzling at her with an enthusiastic wag of its tail. "Okay, okay! You're welcome!" April laughed, giggling as she allowed the creature to clamber about in her arms, allowing it time to bounce about before it finally began to settle again.

"Any chance you know how to get out of here, little guy?"

---

Raph looked up from his phone and his tea at the sound of mail plopping down on the table, glancing over to examine the letters his father had just tossed over in his direction.

"For you," Dad remarked, sorting through the remaining mail from the day.

"For me?" Raph echoed, his brows rising up. "Who the heck is sending me mail?" Curiosity took hold immediately, and he abandoned the wrestling video he had been watching previously in favor of tearing open the letters on the table.

He was surprised to find college brochures inside. His father, however, did not seem all that surprised at all, even adding a couple more to the pile.

"It seems you are in high demand," Dad teased, smiling the tiniest bit. "I have received a few emails as well from recruiters recently."

Raph paused for a moment, rolling this idea about in his brain, trying to figure out what it meant and what it tasted like before he forced a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"Guess they haven't seen my grades yet," he joked weakly. Dad hummed softly, pulling up a chair so he could sit down next to his eldest son.

"Nonsense," he scoffed. "Your grades are fine, Raphael. You've simply tricked yourself into thinking they're not by comparing yourself to others," he added, giving the other a knowing look. "And besides that, this is hardly the only thing that matters. I have told you many times that grades aren't everything. My grades in high school were terrible!" He remarked with a laugh. "And your career in sports is very impressive."

"I guess," Raph said, wrinkling his nose up a bit as he leaned over the table. Easy for him to say. He had a hard time wrapping his head around the idea of colleges being interested in him when his three younger brothers were right here in the same damn house! Had they really meant to send these to Hamato Raphael?

Dad's hand moved to rub little circles into his back, and he nudged his son's teacup a bit. Raph agreeably took a sip, allowing the warm liquid to trickle down through his chest.

"I know you have not always enjoyed schoolwork, Raphael," Dad finally spoke again. "But you are not stupid. You may very well have the most common sense of any of my children!" He chuckled. "And you have many talents besides that. You are a remarkable athlete, and I know I do not have to drag you over to the trophy wall to prove this to you, but I will if I have to. You are only sixteen and you are already the captain of multiple sports teams... not just anyone could handle that! It is difficult to lead a team. But you have always handled this with grace. And teaching children! That is a talent in and of itself. That is no easy task. Trust me, I know," he said, smiling slightly. "But you are doing so well with your new job. And I am very proud of you."

Raphael glanced over at his father, for just a moment, hesitating like he wanted to say something, but then biting it back.

"You don't have to go to college if you don't want to," Dad added. "If you decide that is not the path for you, that is fine. I won't be upset or disappointed. I did not go to college, either! But I would hate for you to not even consider it just because you don't think you're good enough for it," he pressed. "I know you've always said you intend to pursue a career in sports of some kind, but this is very much an avenue to achieve that if you'd like. Many professional athletes get their start through college sports, you know. And I can already name half a dozen universities off the top of my head who would be thrilled to have you on their team in a couple of years!"

He sighed softly.

"But you do not have to decide right now, my son. There is still plenty of time for you to consider all of your options."

Raph glanced over at his father, shifting a bit in his seat, before looking to the side.

"Uh. I dunno, Pops. I mean. I'm not good at tests and all that junk. I mean. College football could be good 'n all, but, uh..."

He hesitated a second, sort of scratching the side of his jaw, hesitating a bit. "I dunno. Maybe I could... I mean. We could look at it, at least. I was kind of wonderin’ about, uh. I dunno… Just, lately, I was thinkin' about... studyin' early childhood education, maybe?..."

[ next ]

#sorrywhatnowau #sorrywhatnowau fic #rottmnt #rottmnt fanfic #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt au #rottmnt human au #tmnt

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bteezxyewriter12 · 2 years

Text

Drunken Night

Pairing- Jin x Named Reader

Word count- 2.3k

Includes- drunk sex (consensual), missionary, cock riding, multiple orgasms, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxxmine

@yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana

@tannie13 @borntowalkaway @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝 BTS Masterlist

📝Jin Masterlist

Part 2

Jin POV

We stand in the liquor section of the supermarket, trying to decide if we want regular vodka or one of the flavor ones

She already got her tequila

I want to try whiskey so I got a bottle of that

"Mango", she says

"What no!", I shake my head

"Yes. I like mango"

"But mango really? Why not lime?"

"Boring", she sings

"I just have good taste while yours is sub par"

"Fuck off Jin. I'm getting the mango one" she scowls

"Fine then I'm getting the regular one"

"Fine!", she rolls her eyes

Sometimes she drives me crazy

No scratch that, she's been driving me crazy since we met a few years ago through Namjoon

She laughed at one of my jokes and I immediately liked her

We got to be really good friends, hanging out anytime I had time

And after coming back from tour, I have a few days off and I called her

She was gonna go out to a club with her friends but she changed her plans because she knows I'm not great with crowds and people I don't know

I felt bad she changed her plans, so I told her we could get some drinks and watch a movie

She agreed and here we are arguing over vodka

We both grab the bottle we want and head to the cash register

The cashier rings up the bottles and I pull out my card, paying for it

"Kim, Seokjin, no!"

"Oh c'mon Jo", I snort, "It's just some alcohol. That I'm going to drink too. It's not a big deal"

She scowls, "Fine but don't do that again"

I roll my eyes, "Ok Jo"

She sticks her tongue out at me and I just laugh, "Very mature Jo"

"Yes I am. Now let's go"

I grab the bags before she can, with her giving me a glare

I smile sweetly at her and we leave the store, heading for her apartment

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

"Ugh", I groan, making a face

"Ugh what?", she groans

"This tastes hhh...hhhh..horrible", I slur, leaning back on the couch

We both had a few shots of each liquor and we're drunk

We just broke out the mango vodka and I had a sip

Nasty

"You... you...don't...uh... like like like...mmm...mangoes?", she slurs

"Yesh I uh um do. But not with vvvv...vodka. Gross"

She starts laughing hysterically and I don't know why

"Not funny", I frown which just makes her laugh more

"Is this the same as how you like bbbbb...bananas but but but not things that taste like bbbb...bananas?", she babbles

She looks at me confused

What is she talking about?

She said so many words about bananas and I heard her say I don't like them?

She knows I do

"I llll...like ban...ban...bananas", I frown more

"Ok", she shrugs

"I don't llll... ah...like things that that that I'm um taste like bbb...bananas"

"I say that!", she yells, "Right? Right Jinnie? I said said tttt... that?"

Did she?

I don't remember

I shrug, I don't know

She huffs at me then takes my shot glass and down the rest of my vodka

"Hey! That. Is...uh.. mine!", I yell

She drank my vodka

Without asking

Not nice

"Yyy..you....you said you no...", she trails off, stuttering, "No like"

"But...but...but"

It's so hard to think of words

My brain thinks them but my mouth isn't saying them right

"But it still mine!", I whine

"More?" she asks and I nod

She holds my glass trying to pour more into it but she keeps missing

"Jinnie, help!", she whines

"Uh ok"

My hands are wobbling and my vision is shifting just as I try to pour the vodka

And I get it all over her hand that's holding the glass

Shit

"Jinnie! My hand!", she protests

"Ssss....sorry"

She just takes the bottle and drink from it

"Hey! That's.....yuck", I mutter

She hands the bottle to me and I drink from it too

"Ugh!", I say, tasting the nasty flavor and swallowing it

"You..you said you want more", she says confused

"No no no more. Gross", I declare

"Then gimmie", she says reaching for it

"No", I shake my head, leaning back and holding the bottle out of her reach

She's gonna smell like mango and it's gonna make me throw up

"No more this. You have have have mmmm...mango breath"

She looks at me shocked, "You too"

"No"

"Yes"

"No"

"Gimmie", she shouts lunging for the bottle

But she misses and lands on top of me

"Ow", I complain, her elbow hitting me in the stomach

She glares at me like I did something wrong, her face so close to mine

"Then give me!"

"No!", I snap

We glare at each other for a few seconds before she moves closer

Her lips crash into mine in a kiss

How did this happen?

How am I kissing her right now?

I don't know but kissing her feels good

She pulls back looking at me confused as I feel

But I want it again

"More", I ask

She moves so fast, her mouth on mine, her arms around my neck, hands in my hair

I drop the bottle, hearing a crash as it hits the floor

I don't care

Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her to me tightly

I slide my tongue in her mouth and hers touches mine, feeling so good

Feeling her on top of me and kissing her makes me hard

Fucking hell I want her

I haven't had sex in awhile and I'm so horny

I pull away for a second, "Want you", I say, then go back to kissing her

"Want you too", she says, then kissing me again

She wants me too

Thank God because I need her right now

I sit up making her sit up too

Grabbing her shirt, I lift it over her head quickly

Reaching around her I try to undo her bra but I can't get it

Fuck it

Using both hands I pull, ripping the back of it, the fabric tearing in my hands

Grabbing the front of it, I tear it off her, then stare at her body

"Holy shit. Fuck", I breathe looking at her

My drunk brain registers that her body is fucking perfect

And so hot

I just want to touch her so I run my hands up her body, slowly

"Fuck Jin", she moans, grabbing my shirt, pulling it off

Her mouth drops staring at me

"Fuck Jin. Yyy..your body...uh.. fucking sexy. You're make me...so uh so... fucking horny"

"Good", I growl, pushing her back against the couch

Immediately hooking my fingers under the waistline of her pants and panties, I pull them down

I get off the couch and get everything off her

Then I take my pants and boxers off, getting back on the couch

Opening her legs, I suck in a breath

"Oh my my uh my fucking ggg...god", I moan staring at how wet she is

I just got harder

"Now Jin!", she yells, reaching out and touching my cock, "Want you now!"

Fuck yes

Leaning over her, I kiss her lips and bury my cock inside her

Oh god she feels fucking amaizng

"Fuck yes", she yells, holding onto my upper arms tightly

I start moving fast and hard listening to her moan and scream

"Jin oh my god Jin", she yells, "Fuck so good Jinnie. So fffff...fucking big and so fucking hhhhh.....hard"

Oh god she's turning me on so much

"You gggg...good. So tight. So wet", I groan

"Harder Jin. Fffff....fuck me harder", she demands

I nod, opening her legs more, slamming hard into her

"Yes Jin fuck!"

I feel her getting tighter on me, making everything feel so much better

"Jin, Jin, JIN!", she screams, squeezing my arms so tightly as she cums on me

"Holy shit!", I gasp

Oh my god it feels incredible

I fucking love it

I'm not going to be able to get enough of it

Bending her leg, I lean on it and holding her other leg open, I thrust harder into her, going in deeper

She screams loudly, her body shaking and moving up the couch

I want to hear her scream more, so I pound back into the same place

"Fucking hell Jin. There! Right there there there Jinnie!"

Hitting that spot again, I tease her, "There Jo? You want uh there?"

She nods her head rapidly

"What going to happen if I keep...keep....keep fucking you there?"

It's hard to think of words but I want to know the answer

"I'm gonna...fuck.... I'll cum on your...your ..uh...your cock", she shouts

"Promise?", I ask, getting excited

I want to feel her cum again

I fucking love it

"Yes!", she moans

"You sure? I'm going to mad if you don't ... don't...cum on me", I slur

Fuck it so hard to talk between being drunk and the massive pleasure I'm feeling

"I will. I pppp...promise. Jinnie!"

"Good uh girl", I answer, snapping my hips and burying myself in that spot in her over and over

It doesn't take long before she screams again, her pussy throbbing on my cock so fucking hard as she orgasms

"Seokjin! Oh my god, Seokjin!"

Fuck, I never loved hearing my name as much as I do right now

When she finishes she pushes me back

"What?", I ask confused

"Shh", she says kissing me and pushing me on my back, "Wanna ride uh ride you. Want too?"

There's nothing I want more than that

I nod quickly

She kisses me hard again, going on top of me

She sits up, getting me inside her and sliding down my shaft

"Fuck!", I moan as I watch her shake on top of me

From getting me in

Fucking amazing

She grabs onto the back of couch, leaning back and grabbing my thigh tightly, holding on

Fuck the pain feels so fucking good

She starts moving, bouncing hard and fast on my cock

Pleasure blasts my body as I watch her ride me so fucking well

My eyes are glued to her breasts which are bouncing hard from how hard she's fucking me

"Fuck Jin. You're fucking cock. Is uh fucking amazing. You feel so ..sss....so good. I love you cock inside mmmmm....me"

I whimper listening to her

Fucking hell, she loves me inside her

I love being in her

But the pleasure is so intense I can't speak

She get so tight on me making me gasp

"Sss...shit. Ddd don't let go", I moan

"No? Bbbbb..baby likes my pussy this ttttt.....tight on his cock? Feels good?", she teases

"Yes. Yes. Fffff...feels so good", I pant, breathing hard

"Does baby boy want mmmm...me to cum on his bbb..big hard cock?"

"Yes fuck please please please. Yes!"

She smirks, riding me harder, slamming herself down on me

"Fuck Jin", she moans, as I feel her get closer

"Want watch Jinnie?", she asks

Yes

Yes I do

I nod

She moves her hand from my leg, burying it in my hair and moving my head down from looking up at her

"Watch my pussy cum on your cock Jinnie", she orders

My eyes immediately move to her pussy fucking me

"Fuck", I whisper

My cock is fucking soaked with her cream as I watch her her slide up and down

Her legs start shaking and she screams my name coming

I watch her soak my cock with her cum, every time she slides up

"Fucking hell", I whisper

She lets go of my hair, grabbing onto my leg again as she keeps slamming down on me

I snap my hips up when she comes down, going in a lot deeper

"Fuck", we both yell at the same time

She's so tight, making every move we make feel out of this world

Sliding my hands on her hips, I hold on to her tightly

God the way she fucking moves is driving me crazy

It's like she's making sure I'm feeling so much pleasure

I fucking like that

"Good Jinnie?"

"The..bbb...best"

She smiles down at me, "Good. I want my Jinnie to ffff.....feel so gggggg....good too"

"I do Jo. You making sure I uh I.... I do", I moan

"Want my Jinnie to cum"

Fuck I want to cum too

"Yeah princess?"

She nods

"Wwwww....here do you want me to cum?"

"III....inside"

Oh god yes

I slam up into her, trying to make her cum first

"Oh fuck Jin!"

After a few more slams, she screams loudly, her body shaking on top of me as she cums

Her hand is digging into the couch while the one on my leg is gripping me hard

"Seokjin!"

She comes down again and I cum hard inside her, pleasure taking over

"Joanne, oh shit", I yell

"Jinnie, Jinnie, fuck Jinnie", she screams

And I stare in complete shock as she cums again, shaking and sweating so much

Holy shit!

Did she cum from me coming?

Is that possible?

No girl has ever orgasmed from me coming

Only her

That's fucking insane

I lay back on the couch, breathing hard as we finish

She's still on top of me, her head back against the couch back cushions

I watch her chest moving hard up and down as she breaths heavily

Reaching up for her, I move her on top of me, her head on my chest

"I can hear your heart Jinnie. It's beating so fast", she says softly

"You made it that way Jo", I laugh

She giggles too and it's so fucking cute

I play with her hair as we lay on her couch

After a few minutes I hear her breathing evenly

She fell asleep

On me

I can't get up now, I don't want to wake her up

I'll just stay for a little longer before I leave to go home

Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her to me, closing my eyes

66 notes · View notes

zodiakuroo · 3 years

Text

Un(holy) Trinity

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader x Shigaraki

Content: 18+ dubcon/noncon, threesome, manhandling, rough sex, corruption, degradation, humiliation, breathplay, stepcest, breeding, blasphemy and sacrilege, elements of mindbreak and god complex (?)

Word count: 4.1k

Notes: my first threesome and idk how to feel about it but here it is! If it’s bad I can blame it on the fact that I just had my wisdom teeth extracted and am currently in a world of pain :) also i’m on bedrest and incredibly bored so if anyone has requests or thirsts or just wants to chat... yeah

also if this banner is shit i’m sorry i rushed and made it on my phone cause i just rly wanted to to post

This is part 2 to my other fic Love Thy Brother which you can read here

Now the serpent was more cunning than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said to the woman, “Has God indeed said, ‘You shall not eat of every tree of the garden’?” - Genesis 3:1

Twelve days.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity to your step-brother, no less.

The night that it happened, you lay awake in your bed dreading the aftermath of the horrific incident. How could you face him again? How could you face your family? How could you face God?

You were too cowardly to face the rest of your household. The Todoroki family welcomed you into their home only for you betray them by sleeping with Touya. Ever since you were little, your mother would say she had a sort of sixth sense that meant God would always tell her when you’d been up to mischief. It sounds silly but there was no explanation for how she would always catch out in lie or know things that you never told her. You feared she would take one look at you and know the sin you committed. And so you chose to make yourself scarce, taking extra shifts at work and choosing to study at the campus library rather than at home. Your siblings seemed to notice how busy you suddenly were, often remarking how they missed you around the house. That just made you feel more ashamed.

As for God, you felt like you needed to do whatever necessary to prove your faith. You wanted Him to know the extent of your shame and remorse. You were weak in spirit, making you an easy target for someone as devious as Touya. You prayed and begged for forgiveness until your knees hurt but no matter what you did, the guilt was inescapable. You realized it was because, irrespective of the regret and remorse you felt, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed what happened. You liked the way Dabi made you feel and you hated yourself for it. But no matter how much you liked it, something like that could never happen again. As penance, you banned yourself from bringing your hands anywhere near your groin. After all that temptation is what brought you to this point in the first place. But the thread of your self-control is thin and withered so at night when you’re certain everyone is asleep, you’re humping your pillow like an animal and biting down on your lip trying to keep from moaning his name. At least you weren’t touching right?

Dabi, by some God-given miracle, made himself scarce as well. It wasn’t uncommon for the noirette to disappear for days at a time doing heaven knows what only to arrive back at home like nothing happened; so no one really questioned his absence. Perhaps he felt the same way you did and was avoiding facing you and the other Todorokis.

Yeah right.

Shame? Todoroki Touya doesn’t know the meaning of the word.

In any case, you had become used to a Dabi-less house and so lulled into a false sense of safety, slowly but surely reverting back to normal. That’s why as you make your way downstairs, prepared to go to your church, the sound of gunfire and explosions from the living room doesn’t alarm you. Probably Natsuo or Shouto playing one of their video games, you thought. But when you get to the bottom of the stairs you’re met with unmistakable dark locks. Not just him. The back of another person’s head, one with pale blue, shoulder length hair. Before you can stop yourself, you let out a gasp. Neither of them react, seemingly too focused on their game. You don’t waste any time feeling relieved, choosing instead to make a silent escape.

You could only dream of being so lucky.

“Oi!” Your step-brother calls without turning around. He hasn’t seen you, you think. If you move quickly you can still get out of this. “I know you heard me, brat. Get over here before I drag you over here.” He still doesn’t bother to turn around but the sharpness in his tone lets you know that you’d be smart to listen. You take a second to steel your nerves and make your way over to the couch, trying your best to look as intimidating as possible. You scowl at both men but they are so engrossed in their video game, they don’t even acknowledge that you’re standing right there. “Aren’t you gonna say hi? We have company.”

We?

The company in question is Shigaraki Tomura. He’s been to the house before although he’s never even so much as glanced in your direction, too busy with his phone or playing games with Dabi. Despite your hard expression you can only manage a meek “Hello Shigaraki.”

He responds by finally looking at you, with a sleazy grin, a pair of crimson eyes, surrounded by creases meet your own. “Sup.”

Beer cans litter the coffee table, one of them being turned into a makeshift ashtray while both have smouldering cigarettes perched between their lips. “You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.”

“You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.” Dabi mocks you with a nasal voice.

You simply roll your eyes, not interested in continuing this interaction any further. “Whatever. I’m leaving now.” You state with as much firmness as you can muster. You spin on your heels but are kept in place by long, slender digits wrapped around your wrist.

“Where are you off to anyways?” The game paused, both boys now looking at you.

Out of habit, you answer truthfully. “Bible study.”

Shigaraki and Dabi burst into raucous laughter.

You should have lied.

“Nah you’re gonna hang out with me and Shigaraki for a bit.”

“Dabi, I have to leave.”

“You don’t have to do anything except what I tell you and I’m telling you to sit.”

Before you can protest you’re being hauled on to the couch, squeezed between the two of them.

“Nice necklace.” Tomura snorts, hand reaching out to grab at your crucifix but you swat it away. His gaze is unnerving. It makes you wonder if- no. He promised he wouldn’t.

Just like that, their game is resumed, as if you were never there. A few rounds pass, no words exchanged between either of them, only curses muttered under their breath. “Dabi, can I please go. I’m bored.”

Wrong choice of words.

“You hear that Tomura? The princess is bored.” His fingers are still moving rapidly over his controller.

“Really now? Come on then Todoroki, let’s show her a good time. I’ve seen how she likes to have fun.”

His comment on your necklace suddenly makes sense, but you still can’t believe it. “You didn’t…” you whip your head back to look at Dabi.

”Sorry doll, you made your Nii-san so proud, I just had to show you off.” Dabi smiles shamelessly, lighting himself another cigarette.

“You’re fucking sick Touya.” Tomura says, however his tone is not one of disgust but rather of admiration.

“You promised...” Your voice breaks. You’re humiliated beyond belief.

Both of them laugh at you again, discarding their controllers. “Told you, it’s adorable how stupid she is.” Dabi remarks to his friend, as if you’re not sitting right next to them.

You try to force your way off the couch but get pulled into Dabi’s lap, one of his arms hooking around both of yours, securing them behind your back. You squirm in his arms but he stills you with a hard slap on your inner thigh. “Be good okay? Don’t embarrass me.” He nuzzles into your neck.

Shigaraki flips up your dress exposing your white lace panties. He runs his thumb up and down your clothed slit, he fabric slowly becoming even more transparent. One severe jerk to the top of your dress and the straps are torn clean off, revealing the matching bra. “Yo, Touya. I thought she was a good girl.”

Dabi peers over your shoulder to get look. “Who’s all this for babe? You screwing the preacher or something? Or were you hoping I’d do something like this?” He tugs down your bra until your breasts are spilling over the top of it.

“Dabi…” Your choke on your plea when he sinks his teeth into your neck. He bites down so hard you’re positive he’s left a mark.

“Who?”

“T-Touya-nii.” You whimper.

“Better.”

Your destroyed dress is discarded somewhere across the room and you find yourself on your hands and knees with Shigaraki kneeling on the couch in front of you and Dabi behind you.

“Go easy on her alright Tomura. It’s her first time sucking cock.” He chuckles.

Your eyes go wide. “Wait...” you mewl but neither pay you any mind.

“And you.” Dabi yanks a fistful of your hair. “No teeth. No puke. Or I’ll let my boy ream your little ass as punishment.”

“Yeah. What he said.” Shigaraki mutters, pulling his semi out of his sweatpants, rubbing his tip against your lips. His is not as scary as your step-brother’s but him staring down at you like this, makes him seem every bit as intimidating.

Pre-cum dribbles from the swollen tip. You’re not entirely sure you want that in your mouth but you’re also not sure if you have a choice so you open up hesitantly.

Dabi’s right. It is your first time doing something like this. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do but as it turns out you don’t have to do much, not with the way Shigaraki starts thrusting his quickly hardening member into your mouth.

“Move your tongue slut.” The man in front of you grunts. You do your best despite the heavy intrusion to obey his command, moving from side to side, swirling around the head when he pulls out of your mouth. He looks down at you with cruel vermillion eyes, panting as he strokes himself in front of you, spreading your saliva across his shaft before sliding deep into your mouth again.

Behind you, Dabi spreads apart your cheeks, squeezing the flesh in his calloused hands. “Remember what I said. Be good and I’ll give you a reward.” He pulls your panties to the side and lets out a whistle at the sight of your dripping slit. “She’s enjoying it. Make her take it deeper.”

You can’t possibly fathom how much deeper he can go when his head is already nudging at your tonsils. You try to swallow the saliva building up in your mouth, making your cheeks hollow out around Shigaraki’s shaft. Seems like that was the right thing to do as his hand flies to the back of your head. “Shit. Shit. So good.”

Dabi’s breath wafts over your pussy. He spreads your lips apart and you feel his hot tongue lick up the juices leaking from your hole. You squeal around Tomura’s dick. You want to pull off but his spindly fingers hold your head in place.

“Told you angel. Good little sisters get rewards.” With that he takes your clit between his lips and suckles on it gently while one of his fingers circles your entrance. Knuckle by knuckle he slides into you, making you keen. You arch your back trying to shift your hips backwards against his hand, silently urging him to find that special spot he showed you last time. He establishes a loose rhythm. Hot wet muscle and cold metal of his piercing circles the sensitive bundle of nerves, before applying suction while his fingers work you open.

The sensation is overwhelming, a form of heavenly torture and your thighs quiver barely able to hold you up while you use your last bit of mental strength to focus on suppressing your gags. That mental strength all but evaporates when the digits inside you graze that rough patch embedded in your walls. It’s so pleasurable your reflex is to run from his fingers. Luckily for Shigaraki, that means you move forward, taking him further into your mouth.

“This where you want me? This your spot, angel?” Dabi taunts you. Shigaraki holds you in place while two of your step-brother’s fingers drill your cunt, hitting that spot over and over again. Garbled moans and cries leave your mouth and reverberate around Tomura’s cock, proving to be too much for him ultimately.

“Shit Stop!” Don’t wanna come yet.” He pulls out your mouth so that a string of your drool drips down to your breasts.

“God! Touya-nii!” You sputter out.

“Still with the God shit?” He uses your hair to force you to look at him, neck twisted at an awkward, uncomfortable angle. “God ever make you feel this good?” His fingers thrust into you harder. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire.

“Ngghh-N-no –oh! Oh!” is your incoherent answer.

Dabi forces you back down, shoving you face first into the cushions. “See? Fuck him. Give up on god. Give up on everyone except your big brother cause no one else can make you feel this good.”

You’re so pathetic. The way you’re rocking yourself in unison with the motions of his hands. The way your tongue hangs out of your mouth, impeding any sort of intelligible verbal response. The way you’re mindlessly nodding along to whatever filth is coming out of Dabi’s mouth.

“C’mon Touya. Turn her around. Wanna try out that sweet pussy you’ve been bragging about.” You’re reminded that you aren’t alone. No, your brother’s best friend is right there to witness exactly how pathetic you are.

“Yeah in a minute. I’m still having my fun.” Dabi answers, face pressed against your mons before working you with his mouth once again.

“Man! Come on!” Tomura whines.

“I said in a minute. Not my fault you can’t last.”

It’s amazing how they can bicker like this right now, as if you aren’t on your hands and knees for them, gummy walls still pulsing around his fingers. However, it’s not long before Dabi’s focus is back on you taking you to the brink of orgasm. He slows his fingers, keeping you balanced on that razor thin edge. “Should I make you cum angel?” His voice is dripping with fake concern. “Dunno… what’s in it for me?”

“Anything! Touya-nii please!”

“Anything? You gonna obey me? Do whatever I say like a good little angel? You gonna worship me?” You can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he’s mocking you.

Probably the latter. And you deserve it too.

Your faith was the thing you deemed more important than anything and anyone else but Dabi, all too easily, convinced you to disregard that. Made you lose all sense and give into lust by showing you mindblowing pleasure, only magnified by your awareness of how deeply sinful this all was. That’s the extent of the power he has over you. The story of Adam and Eve is one you know forwards and backwards and yet you were so easily tempted forbidden fruit and left completely corrupted. Yeah, he’s definitely mocking you.

“Any- fuck- anything” You’re wiggling your ass, goading Dabi into finishing you off

“Cum in my mouth. Angel, give it to me” That’s the final straw. You explode around his fingers. Despite your walls, clamping around him, he manages to piston into you, hitting that squishy spot with astounding accuracy. His unyielding stimulation makes it feel as though the high won’t end. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Eventually, it does end though, his fingers drag out against the pull of your swollen pussy. He licks you clean making sure he gets every last drop of your cum, both inside and out, on his tongue. The ball of his piercing catches onto your rim making you yelp. He soothes the sting with gentle laps of his tongue.

“Tastes so sweet angel. So sweet knowing I’m the only one to ever fuck this pretty pussy.” He snickers before adding “So far.”

“Yeah, can I fuck her now?” Tomura was turned on before but seeing the way you fell apart at the hands of your brother? His minimal patience has run out. All he can think of now is being inside you.

“You heard him babe. Turn around.” He spanks your ass. You try to turn around but thanks to your shaky legs you nearly fall off the couch. Dabi catches you before that happens and he dutifully sets you up on all fours, held up by quivering limbs. You hear heavy breathing from behind you as Shigaraki taps his head against your puffy clit while you twitch in place.

“She wants this so bad. Had no idea your Christian little sister was such a whore.” Shigaraki mutters. He holds you still as he buries himself in you, breathing becoming more erratic with every inch until his hip bones are digging into your soft flesh. He’s so deep. You feel so full. You squeeze shut your eyelids, savouring the stretch.

Calloused fingers press into your jaw, making your eyes shoot open. “Pretty angel, did you forget about me?” Dabi looms over you, making a show of spitting in his palm and using it to stroke himself. He slips his thumb into your mouth, pad pressing down on the plush pillow of your tongue. “Gonna stuff you nice ‘n full angel.” All you can do is blink up at him with teary eyes, pupils blown wide with desire.

Shigaraki begins thrusting into you, hips moving at a brutal pace. Dabi isn’t far behind him, replacing his thumb with his cock and you don’t waste time waiting for him to tell you what to do. You close your lips around his shaft, engulfing him in the wet heat of your mouth.

Unlike his friend, Dabi starts off slow. His piercings drag across your tongue and you taste metal and the salt of his pre-cum. It takes some time for you to get used to taking him in your mouth, the jewellery an added obstacle.

You feel so full.

Shigaraki is bottoming out with every thrust, it’s so lewd the way it makes you squelch around him. Dabi’s shaft is rubbing your throat raw and still, you make an effort to take him deeper. He keeps one hand on the back of your head while he fucks you mouth.

He looks so ethereal, so euphoric, letting out little moans and whispered expletives. The sounds he makes are divine, so heavily contrasted by everything you know about him. It leaves you star struck. He recognizes the adoration in your eyes and responds in kind with a cocky smirk. He remembers how you looked at him when you first met. Disdain and judgment. Now you look at him like he’s your only salvation.

It’s sad actually. How you’re so desperate for someone to tell you how to live. And what a sweet, adoring little follower you are. Wasted on religion if you ask him. So soft and pliant, perfect for your big brother to mould and corrupt into his personal fuckangel.

“Angel, Nii-san’s gonna fill you up. And you’re gonna take it yeah?”

Your whole life you aspired to this holy standard of perfection in the hopes of escaping eternal damnation. But you’re beyond absolution now.

“All of it down your throat.”

It’s okay though.

If heaven doesn’t feel like this, you’re not sure it’s worth all the effort to get there.

He holds your necklace behind you like a leash, twisting it around his fingers. Between the way he’s basically strangling you and the way your swallowing muscles contract around his cock means that you’re not getting much air into your lungs. Your head is spinning, from being both oxygen deprived and cock drunk.

“Your God doesn’t want you anymore.” The clasp snaps and he dangles the charm in front of your face. The mould of Christ nailed to the cross taunts you. What was once a symbol of divine love and God’s boundless forgiveness and sacrifice is just a reminder of how far you’ve fallen into depravity, creaming around Shigaraki’s cock as he ruins your cunt while your Nii-san claims your throat “You’re filthy.” Touya sneers at you as he holds himself in your throat, watching you cry and choke around him. “Dirty fuckin angel.” He grunts as he floods your mouth with the taste of his cum. It’s not exactly pleasant but you try to swallow it all down. There’s just so much. That means he’s pleased with you right? You want him to be pleased. Good girls get rewards he said

“It’s okay.” He muses as he pulls out of your mouth. “You have me. I’m better than God and I Iove you when you’re nasty like this.” He empathizes his point by dragging his wet, softening cock across your face. “Nii-sans perfect little angel.”

It’s so pitiful how the small praise makes your heart bloom and makes your hole flutter.

You’re coughing up Touya’s cum while your body shakes with Shigaraki’s thrusts.

“What about me hm? I’m fucking you. What? You don’t like it?” Tomura’s going harder now, determined to get his fair share of your attention.

“Shig-Shigaraki – shit. Slow down!”

You’re ignored by both of them once again. If anything, Shigaraki starts fucking you harder

.”Yo’ dustpot. You better pull out. That hole still belongs to me.”

The warning falls on deaf ears, Tomura is too far gone. “So warm, she’s squeezin’ me. Fuck. Fuck.’’ No thoughts, just your tight cunt.

“Gonna do whatever I tell you?” Dabi’s talking to you now, cerulean eyes boring into yours.

You nod still staring at him with absolute devotion.

“Touya-nii’s will be done? Huh? Has a nice ring to it.”

When you don’t respond he grabs you by your cheeks forming an open mouthed pout. “Say it.”

“Touya-nii’shhh will be done.” The words come out distorted but he’s satisfied

“Oh yeah? Then be good angel slut and come on his cock for me.”

You’re pushed over the edge, coming for the second time. Your walls clamp down around him as you sob out both their names in the form of incoherent babbling. It hits you as hard as the first one. You’re so caught up in your high you barely register the vice grip on your hips, the frantic humping against your ass. “Tight. Fuckin tight! Gotta breed! Breed this fucking hole.”

His hot, sticky cum floods your walls with, your throbbing cunt milking him for everything he’s got. He ruts against you a couple more times before removing himself completely.

You hear the familiar click of a camera. He’s sorry (not really) but the sight of your fucked out hole leaking globs of your cream and his cum was too hot for Shigaraki to not add to his spankbank.

“Thanks for that little sis.” Dabi is resting on the couch, head thrown back smoking a cigarette.

“Yeah thanks sweetness.” Both men, tuck themselves back into their pants

Everything feels so surreal. You cautiously move you hand between your thighs. Feeling your sore abused cunt in an attempt to grasp the reality of what happened.

Wait a minute.

It’s too much, that too sticky to be just your arousal down there. The more you squeeze, contracting your pelvic floor, the more it seems to seep out of you.

“You… You came inside.” You murmur as your eyes well up with tears. Whatever daze you were in seems to be broken by this revelation. Instead it’s replaced by fear of what the consequences of this might be.

Dabi smacks his friend upside the head. “You fuckin’ dumbass. I told you not to.”

Judging by his grin, Shigaraki doesn’t register the insult. He’s too busy basking in the afterglow. “Aw, don’t cry babe. You were gripping me so tight, I thought you wanted it. ‘S’okay, your Nii-san will get you a plan B”

“Fuck no. That’s your jizz inside her.” He scowls, eyes focused on the cum that’s leaking out of your spent pussy.

“C’mon Dabi don’t be like that. I’m broke right now.” Shigaraki pleads.

Touya huffs and rolls his eyes. “You can get yourself a morning after pill right? Tomura will pay you back.”

“Yeah babe. I promise.” He gives you a dopey smile.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s lying. Yeah, you know better now. You just nod as you pull up your panties, cringing at the sticky, wet sensation against your cunt.

“Me and Tomura are heading out. Make sure you clean all this up before anyone gets home.”

“B-but Touya-nii-“ you snivel.

“No buts. Clean up or you won’t be sitting comfy for a week. Are we clear?”

“Yes Touya-nii.” You reply defeated.

“And do it properly. Fuyumi has 3 brothers, she knows what a cumstain looks like and I don’t wanna have to do any explaining to her.”

You only nod, trying (and failing) to blink away tears.

Dabi rewards you with a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Best little sister in the world.” And he leaves you with that.

1K notes · View notes

luxaofhesperides · 3 years

Text

stealing clothes

college au ft. domestic joongdok. i am so predictable.

also on ao3.

Kim Dokja is extremely lucky to have Yoo Joonghyuk as his roommate. Not just because Yoo Joonghyuk is the campus heartthrob and Kim Dokja is the one who gets to see him everyday, and not because Yoo Joonghyuk is the perfect house husband, cleaning and cooking because he banned Kim Dokja from doing both.

While both those things are nice, the best part about having Yoo Joonghyuk as his roommate is stealing his shirts.

Not to do anything weird! They’re just… comfortable.

He even got permission! For the first few, at least.

It all starts because Yoo Joonghyuk was going to throw out perfectly good shirts that have been worn and washed enough to become soft, the type of softness that even the most high quality shirts can’t capture. They weren’t dirty, or torn, just old. So Kim Dokja protests this and tries to get Yoo Joonghyuk to keep them, only for him to scowl and throw the shirts at him.

“You keep them then,” he said, then left. And Kim Dokja did.

He’s well aware that wearing his hot roommate’s shirts might be (is) weird, so he only wears them on long nights when he needs some extra comfort to get him through his last assignments, or when Yoo Joonghyuk isn’t home. He never wears them when Yoo Joonghyuk might see. He’d rather die.

And because his wonderful roommate is out for the night, no doubt at a party celebrating his latest gaming tournament win, Kim Dokja is settled in for a long night of reading, curled up on the couch in one of Yoo Joonghyuk’s old shirts. It’s long enough to reach down past his thighs, so he doesn’t bother wearing pants, and a blanket over his shoulders helps with the chill his exposed collarbones bring.

The apartment is quiet, most people out or sleeping, and the latest update of his favorite web novel is a long one. And should he get hungry, there’s dinner in the fridge, courtesy of Yoo Joonghyuk who is very determined to get Kim Dokja eating more regularly.

It’s been too long since he was able to be so relaxed and comfortable. No urgent deadlines, no projects to stress about, no tests in the near future hanging over his head like a guillotine.

He’s so comfortable that halfway through the chapter he’s reading, Kim Dokja begins nodding off. The living room is gradually getting darker as the sun begins to set, and he sees no reason why he shouldn’t take a nap; his sleep schedule is fucked anyways, a little rest won’t hurt him at all.

The sound of the door opening rouses him.

Distantly, Kim Dokja hears a lock click and a heavy sigh, but half-awake, he can’t be sure if it’s real or part of a dream.

He opens sleep-heavy eyes to a dark living room; he must have been sleeping for a few hours, long enough for the sun to fully set and the moon to shine brightly. His entire body feels heavy and slow.

Slowly, Kim Dokja sits up, the blanket falling off his shoulders to pool around his hips. He stretches his arms up above his head, arching his spine a bit, drawing out the stretch as he shakes off the last of his nap.

Behind him, someone chokes.

Startled, Kim Dokja drops his arms and turns to see Yoo Joonghyuk standing in front of the hallway, staring at him with wide eyes. He’s… shirtless. Kim Dokja quickly looks away.

“When did you get back?” he asks, trying to break the strange tension that suddenly fills the apartment.

Yoo Joonghyuk is silent for a few moments before Kim Dokja hears him step closer. “Just a few minutes ago. I thought you were asleep.”

“I was. Is it late?”

The light turns on suddenly and Kim Dokja winces, blinking to clear the spots from his vision.

“It’s only nine.”

Huh. He wasn’t asleep for too long then. He feels the couch dip and looks up to see Yoo Joonghyuk sitting right next to him instead of anywhere else on their rather large couch. He’s staring at Kim Dokja’s chest, which makes him shift uncomfortably.

He glances down to see what has Yoo Joonghyuk’s attention. There’s no stains or anything…

Then his heart stops for a solid minute. He’s wearing Yoo Joonghyuk’s shirt. And Yoo Joonghyuk knows it’s his old shirt because it’s way too big for Kim Dokja!

Please don’t bring it up, Kim Dokja mentally begs, trying to send the plea into Yoo Joonghyuk’s head.

“Isn’t that one of my old shirts?” he asks. Telepathy has failed. Kim Dokja changes to Plan B which is Fake His Death And Start A New Life.

“Uh. Yeah. You gave it to me,” Kim Dokja answers, hoping Yoo Joonghyuk won’t think he’s weird and kick him out. He’s not willing to give up the best roommate he’s ever had! He just can’t go back to living with the worst people in existence, who treat him horribly and steal his things. He just can’t.

“I’ve never seen you wear them,” Yoo Joonghyuk says instead of demanding that Kim Dokja move out.

“I don’t wear them often.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes dart farther down. “You’re also not wearing pants.”

Kim Dokja pulls the blanket over his legs and tries to pretend Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t just say that. “Well, you’re not wearing a shirt! You’re only wearing…” he trails off, finally letting himself look at Yoo Joonghyuk. Those sweatpants look familiar. They look just like the ones he thought he lost months ago. “...Isn’t that mine?”

“...Our laundry must have gotten mixed up.”

That’s a lie. Yoo Joonghyuk is not one to mix up their laundry. They’ve never accidentally taken each other’s clothes.

Kim Dokja smiles and Yoo Joonghyuk looks away, his ears turning red. “Joonghyuk-ah,” he says sweetly in a way that Yoo Joonghyuk knows is a threat.

“I don’t see why I can’t have some of your clothes if you have mine.”

“My clothes don’t fit you! And besides, isn’t it strange for us to be sharing clothes?”

“No. You should wear my clothes more often. You look good in them.”

Kim Dokja has no response to that. He freezes, then ducks his head, trying to hide his quickly warming cheeks.

Yoo Joonghyuk, the bastard that he is, doesn’t let Kim Dokja hide. He wraps an arm around Kim Dokja’s waist and pulls him closer, hard enough to send him falling against his side. “Stop being so shy and wear my shirts while I’m around.”

“Shut up. Aren’t you supposed to be at a party?”

“I got bored and left early. I prefer being here with you.”

“Don’t think sweet talking is going to make me forget about you stealing my sweatpants.”

“Oh?” Yoo Joonghyuk runs a large hand down Kim Dokja’s spine, making him shiver. “What should I do then?”

“Nothing!” Kim Dokja hits his chest, but makes no moves to put any space between them. He is not going to be thinking about why. “Anyways, aren’t you tired? You should go to sleep since you spent hours at that tournament. Congratulations on another win, by the way.”

Smiling, Yoo Joonghyuk leans closer, forcing Kim Dokja to bend back a bit, putting more of his weight on Yoo Joonghyuk’s arm. “You were watching?”

“I always watch when you compete. What’s the point of having a popular gamer for a roommate if I can’t brag about him?”

Without another word, Yoo Joonghyuk collapses on top of him, crushing him against the couch.

“Hey!” Kim Dokja flails, then smacks Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulder. “What’s that for!”

“You’re right, I am tired.”

“Then go to bed!”

Yoo Joonghyuk tightens his grip on Kim Dokja’s waist, then nuzzles into his neck. The feeling of his hair brushing against his neck makes Kim Dokja shiver, not quite tickling him but just enough to have the sensation send sparks down his spine.

He sighs softly, and feeling it against his skin brings a deep blush to Kim Dokja’s cheeks. “I’d prefer to stay here for the night,” Yoo Joonghyuk says. Kim Dokja grumbles about being squished beneath the heavy weight of his body, but ultimately decides to indulge himself and stay.

They stay like that, sleeping on the couch, all through the night. They both wake with stiff necks in the morning, but Kim Dokja doesn’t mind at all when it lets him stay in Yoo Joonghyuk’s embrace a little longer.

Things change after that.

Kim Dokja wouldn’t call them friends, per se. Not before That Night. Roommates, yes. Acquaintances who get along well, yes. Friends? No.

But now, he’s not too sure what to call their relationship. They live together so they have to spend some time together, but school keeps them both busy and Kim Dokja often spends his time at the library with Han Sooyoung and Yoo Sangah while Yoo Joonghyuk streams and goes to tournaments.

It’s more accurate to say they exist in the same space, than to say that they spend time together.

They get along well enough, which is why they’ve renewed their lease together for another year, but somehow, after That Night Yoo Joonghyuk is suddenly… sticky.

He’s constantly making food for them. More so than before. He asks for Kim Dokja’s preferences instead of just silently handing him a plate?

Kim Dokja stares at the box of pasta in his hands. He doesn’t understand why he’s grocery shopping with Yoo Joonghyuk, but he’s gone with it for too long and can’t ask any questions now.

“Did you want pasta?” Yoo Joonghyuk asks, appearing behind him without warning. Kim Dokja jumps a little, then glares at him, annoyed by how amused he looks.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I can just buy instant noodles.”

Scowling, Yoo Joonghyuk grabs the box of pasta from his hands and adds it to the cart. “Absolutely not. I’ll make noodles for you later.”

“You can make noodles from scratch?”

“It’s not hard.”

Kim Dokja would marry Yoo Joonghyuk right that very second if asked. He also doesn’t understand why Yoo Joonghyuk is suddenly spoiling him, but he’s not going to question a good thing. He’s going to get as much as he can out of this, because who knows when it will end?

So he bumps his hip against Yoo Joonghyuk’s with a smile as they walk down the aisle, and asks, “Can we get ice cream?”

Yoo Joonghyuk does not answer for a long minute, then glances at Kim Dokja’s hopeful expression and sighs. “Fine.”

He really is getting spoiled.

Kim Dokja fully intends to use this knowledge for evil.

Another thing that’s changed: clothes.

Since Kim Dokja didn’t complain enough about his sweatpants being stolen before he fell asleep, Yoo Joonghyuk decided he could just take Kim Dokja’s most comfortable sweatpants and wear them whenever he wants. So what if he looks really good! They’re still Kim Dokja’s and he will hold this grudge for as long as he needs to.

He intends to steal more of Yoo Joonghyuk’s shirts as revenge, except he doesn’t need to steal anything. Because Yoo Joonghyuk just leaves his shirts in Kim Dokja’s room. So he wears them and tries not to get flustered when Yoo Joonghyuk stares at him each time he walks out of his room wearing something Yoo Joonghyuk left him.

It’s a losing battle.

On the bright side, he no longer has to hide it. It’s still embarrassing, but he’s getting more and more used to lounging in the living room in Yoo Joonghyuk’s shirts.

The hungry look Yoo Joonghyuk gives him is also nice to see.

Kim Dokja may be the king of denial, but even he can’t lie to himself with how obvious Yoo Joonghyuk is being. Nor can he pretend that he isn’t doing this for that exact reason, or spending more time at the apartment to be with him.

They’re both pushing in little ways, but it’s not enough for him to be willing to push their relationship out of the cloud of ambiguity its currently in.

Before he knows it, half his closet is Yoo Joonghyuk’s clothes, and he has to go to Yoo Joonghyuk’s room to grab a pair of sweatpants to study in because all of them got stolen. The rude bastard really has no shame.

“Why don’t we just keep our clothes in the same room?” Yoo Joonghyuk suggests after Kim Dokja complains to him about this.

“Whose room?”

“Mine. Just take all your things into my room. I’ll make space for you.”

And so Kim Dokja suddenly finds himself sharing a room with Yoo Joonghyuk. And then sharing a bed. And then waking up with him to his absurdly early alarm.

They’re not dating, and he says as much to Han Sooyoung when talking about this; she just rolls her eyes and calls him and idiot for not realizing what’s going on.

She has absolutely no room to talk, being in a friends-with-benefits relationship with Yoo Sangah instead of just asking her out on a date like normal people would.

They’re not dating, but Kim Dokja leans into him when they watch a movie together after rejecting a party invite. They’re not dating, but Yoo Joonghyuk kisses his cheek each morning before he gets up to make breakfast. They’re not dating, but Kim Dokja will settle into Yoo Joonghyuk’s lap while wearing nothing but one of his shirts to finish a reading for one of his classes.

They’re not dating, but he certainly wants to.

However, Kim Dokja would sooner pass away then actually talk about his feelings, so he bottles it up, greedily hoards all the affection he gets from Yoo Joonghyuk, and hopes he makes his move soon because Kim Dokja is starting to get impatient.

In the meantime, he’ll steal another shirt and pretend he didn’t do it on purpose just to get Yoo Joonghyuk to look at him.

#orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #joongdok #orv fic #kim dokja #yoo joonghyuk #my writing

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hillnerd · 3 years

Text

Waking up- Chapter 6 - Touch

AO3 FFN Beginning of story | Previous Chapter word count 9064

Here is the second part of chapter 5- I split them because it was going LONG. So it's still Hermione's POV. Previously in ‘Waking Up’:

Hermione gets ready for going out to a club & is anxious

She got ready w/ Fleur, Ginny, Angelina - Bonds w/ Fleur

Ron's not up for club either, but he does not reveal why

The entire group consists of the Weasley siblings (minus Percy), Lee, Angelina, Hermione, harry

It's a jolly good time despite ptsd acting up for Hermione- Until it's NOT a good time, and George grabs a mic and is threatening people with his wand.

Chapter warnings: cursing, intense emotions, drunkenness', fighting, reference to a dead character, somewhat explicit sex scene

CHAPTER 6- TOUCH

Panic seared through every nerve in her body. Ron was willfully standing in front of a sparking wand, and no one could do a thing to stop it - not legally anyway.

Ron stared the wand down, saying something she couldn’t hear from across the crowded bar, and the mic couldn’t pick up. She clawed her way out from the corner booth, waking Harry in the process, but by the time she’d crawled out from behind the table George’s wand arm had slowly fallen to his side.

“Fine... Fucking fine…” George’s voice echoed across the bar. “You’re all a bunch of useless arseholes.”

With that, George handed over the mic, escorted away with a bunch of people applauding as the music resumed. Ron, Angelina and Lee followed as the bouncer manhandled George then bodily dropped him off in a chair next to Ginny.

“When the tab is paid, get his arse out of here,” the bouncer growled at Ron before pointing a meaty finger at George. “He’s fucking banned.”

George handed over a wad of cash to Lee, who went to pay the tab.

All eyes turned to George.

“What?” He had a grin on his face, but his tone was sharp and eyes dead. “Did I say something that wasn’t true?”

“You said a lot, alright,” Angelina muttered. “You’re lucky Ron convinced them not to call Muggle law enforcement on you.”

George shot Ron a vicious scowl, but didn’t say anything. Ron had a carefully blank look on his face.

Lee returned from the bar, the bouncer behind him.

“Time we get going.”

They began their journey back to the hotel, pairing off, with the more sober partners keeping the more inebriated of their group from walking into traffic. Harry was ridiculously unsteady on his feet. Ginny couldn’t keep him upright and he nearly tripped over a passerby. Ron took over for Ginny, and Harry was very maudlin in his drunkenness.

“You’re my best friend,” he pronounced to Ron. “In the whole world, you know that?”

“Yep, thanks Harry.”

“You’re special. I know you sometimes don’t think you are, but you are. That locket didn’t know a thing.”

Hermione nearly tripped over, hearing the locket mentioned. She wasn’t sure what Harry meant, though. How could the locket have known anything? It was just an evil locket that drained people’s happiness and made them angry. It hadn’t shown any signs of sentience. Neither had the cup.

“Shut up, Harry” warned Ron, giving Harry a jostle.

“And sorry I love your sister. I couldn’t help it!”

She supposed the mention of the locket was just as nonsensical as everything else Harry was saying. She pulled Ron’s jacket that went nearly to her knees closer around herself, trying to ignore the ringing in her ears.

Ginny gave a laugh at Harry’s antics. She had drunk significantly more than Hermione, but somehow she wasn’t unsteady on her feet at all. Despite her amusement over Harry, Ginny’s eyes kept darting to George.

“Maybe we could dart into that corner shop, they’ll have booze,” George said, making a beeline that was curtailed by Ron leaving Harry at a lamppost and standing in his way.

“Let’s just get back to your hotel.”

“Fuck off, Ron! No one asked you!”

George had enough to drink to make him mean, and enough to nearly trip into the gutter. Ron caught him before he fell.

George bodily shrugged him off.

Hermione kept attempting to catch eyes with Ron, but he was too busy determinedly watching George and keeping Harry from walking into drainpipes.

They finally reached George’s hotel. He keyed them into his room then immediately sat on the bed, arms crossed as he glared out the window.

Ron deposited the unsteady Harry at the table, and Hermione happily took the other seat, her headache now piercing.

“I want to get out of here,” said Ginny as she leaned against a wall.

“Anyone sober enough to Apparate?” asked Angelina.

“I’m sober. I can side-along each of you where you need to go” said Ron, though he looked a bit peaky. “Then I can come back to stay with George.”

“I can stay here a bit longer to hang with George,” Lee said, a genial smile on his face that ignored the series of blanches after his comment. Not even the most drunk of them was under the impression he was staying just to hang out instead of monitor.

“I can stay too,” volunteered Angelina.

Ron shook his head. “You don’t have to. I know you both have work tomorrow.”

“That’s kind of you, Ron,” Angelina answered for them.

“Oh yeah, Ronnie the fucking hero” George groused, a mean look on his face.

“Damn, George,” said Lee with a shake of his head.

“I don’t need tending, and I don’t need you lot talking about me like I’m not here! I’m fine!”

“Look,” Ron began. “We both know—”

“Just what is it we both know?” asked George, rising from his bed.

“That you’re being an arsehole,” Ginny supplied, and no one corrected her.

“Well sorry I’m not all fun and fucking rainbows, everyone!” spat George, throwing his hands in the air.

“No one’s asking for that!” Ron protested. “We just don’t want you pissed and getting in trouble.” “Oh give it a fucking rest,” George snapped, poking Ron in the chest. Tents and rain and friends fighting filled Hermione’s mind. Her wand. She needed her wand! Hermione rifled through her beaded bag trying to find it.

“I’m tired of having you in my face all the time! I’ve never wanted you around before, so why the fuck would you think I want you around now? It’s like you enjoy being an annoying arsehole.”

“Oh yeah. I’m here for the enjoyment of it,” Ron said with a snort. “I get to keep my drunk older brother from getting arrested, keep him from eating shit in the gutter, and get treated like shit for it. A perfect evening, really.”

“I never asked for your help! I don’t want it!”

“Well someone has to pick up the pieces when you keep fucking up.”

“For fuck’s sake, get out of my room!” George bellowed, looking perilously close to punching Ron.

“No! I’m not letting you fuck up again!” Ron yelled back, red in the face. “After everything, it doesn’t matter if you’re an arse, family’s—”

Hermione’s hands shook as she scraped through the contents of her bag, unable to find her wand in the cavernous space. Useless. She was useless.

“Fuck off!” George seethed, looking like a cornered animal.

“No! After everything, family’s all we have and we have to be there for one another!”

“Like you were for Fred when he got fucking crushed to death?” George jeered. An explosion of protestations burst forth, but he ignored them all, eyes glinting in a mix of anger and anguish. He let out a horrible rough sound that bordered between laughter and crying.

Hermione desperately scrabbled in her bag, fingers grazing everything but her damned wand!

“Why couldn’t that wall have fallen a few feet to the left and taken you out instead of Fred?”

There was a crash and Harry’s chair was on the floor he had stood up so abruptly.

“Don’t you talk to him like that!’ Harry cried out, moving toward George, his wand pulled. Angelina and Lee quickly got in his way, as Ron stood still, and his expression shuddered.

Something like regret flickered across George’s face. He took a step towards his brother, but gave a yell as an orange curse hit him and he stumbled back into the bathroom.

All faces turned to the source of the spell. There stood Ginny, cold fury burning in her eyes. She gave another wave of her wand that slammed the door shut.

“Ginny, you can’t do magic outside of school yet!” Hermione squealed, fingers finally grasping her wand, though far too late to be of any help.

“Worth it,” replied Ginny. Hermione couldn’t very well disagree. She’d never thought she could dislike George Weasley so much. “Let’s get out of here. I can’t stand to look at him.”

Ron gave a sigh, and leaned his head against the bathroom door frame. “I guess I need to get you all home, then I’ll come back and— ”

“No, I’ll stay here.” Angelina put a staying hand up. “He’s been a right bastard to you and you don’t have to put up with it.”

“But—”

“We’ve got him,” said Lee, putting a hand on Ron’s shoulder. Ron opened his mouth as if to argue, then gave a sigh.

“And you’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything?”

They nodded.

“Then… Then I’ll get everyone home.”

One by one Ron apparated Harry, Ginny and Hermione home - he was too tired to apparate multiple people at a time reliably. They silently walked from their apparition point to the Burrow’s living room.

Ron busied himself pouring glasses of water for them, while the rest of them watched. Harry looked baleful, but was unable to say anything and Ginny was silently crying. This left Hermione, and she felt woefully underqualified to even begin to breach the hurt Ron had faced. The one solace was that Harry and Ginny seemed equally unable to come up with comforting words to say to Ron.

Ron saved Harry and Ginny the trouble by dismissing them to bed. Harry tottled over to Ron and gave him a long-lasting hug mumbling something about him being Harry’s brother. Ginny gave him a hug about the middle as well, before helping the still wobbly Harry up the stairs to bed.

Ron let out a sigh and collapsed on the couch.

“Next time I’m tempted to go out, remind me of tonight,” he muttered, throwing an arm across his face. “Especially if there’s George and drinking involved…”

His breathing shook the tiniest bit.

She’d never been very good at emotions. Her own would take over and she’d let her temper turn her into a veritable harpy. Other people’s emotions were just as difficult for her to handle. She worked so hard to learn to say the right thing, find what could soothe others, to apply logic and repeat the process. It never seemed to work, though. She couldn’t think of anyone she’d successfully talked down or comforted in her life. Not really…

She settled beside him and put her head on his chest.

“I know you’re upset…” she began. Acknowledging feelings was usually a good place to begin. That’s the sort of thing Ron might say, right? “But you have to know George didn’t mean any of that.”

He ruefully shook his head. “He did… It’s fine, though. Nothing I didn’t know.”

“He was just trying to get rid of you by being cruel. He was drunk and being spiteful,” she said with certainty.

“Doesn’t mean he was lying.”

“You handled this all really well, you know.”

“Huh?” he asked, removing his arm from over his eyes.

“You deescalated things really well, watched after us, and kept your calm… It was rather impressive.”

“Yeah, well I’ve had my fair share of dealing with dramatic wizards and witches,” he said with a hint of a smile, giving her a bit of a nudge.

“Oh we’ve never been that bad!” she said with a laugh.

He cocked his head at her. “The birds.”

“Well… Well, you were being a right arse,” she said, poking him in the middle.

“See? I’m quite used to the drama,” he said with a chuckle, draping his arm around her.

She bit her lip. “I wasn’t that bad was I?”

“You were pretty terrible,” he said with a laugh. “But that’s alright. I like how fierce and crazy you are.”

“Crazy?!”

“Oh sorry, I mean how calm and undramatic you are.” He schooled his face into mock solemnity.

“You’re terrible,” she huffed.

“Yeah, but you love it,” he said, shooting her that boyish grin of his. It was her favorite feature of his. Well, that and his blue eyes. And his bright hair. And his freckles. And his wide shoulders. And his long legs. And his big hands. And his arse.

With that thought, she sat up and put a hand to his face and his eyebrows shot up into his fringe.

“I can’t help it, but I really do,” she said, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the nose. “You know… Harry pointed out that you fancy me.”

“He’s a terrible drunk.”

“I told him I quite fancy you as well.”

“I would hope so, seeing as you’re my girlfriend.” His arm hugged her close to his side. “And even if he’s a terrible drunk, he’s right. I do fancy you. Rather hard not to, what with you being all brilliant and beautiful.”

Her eyes fell to his lips. This wasn’t the ideal place to kiss, in his family’s living room where anyone could walk in on them… but he’d called her beautiful and he was being so perfect. She didn’t want him to think about George again either.

She maneuvered herself until she was on top of him, knees on either side of his hips. One of his hands wove through her curls, the other doing a little trail down her side, a gesture that was growing more and more familiar each time they snogged. A hot neediness fed her movements. She moaned and leaned into him when she was stopped. His hands cupped her cheeks and slowly moved her face away from his.

“We’re in the living room,” he murmured.

“It’s late - so late that no one will know. Just snog me!” she whispered.

“Are you still sauced?” he laughed.

“Do I have to be ‘sauced’ to want to kiss you with a tiny bit of tongue?”

“Well I’d hope not, but any sober person should know this house always has someone up and in our business…”

“I’m sober now,” she told him frankly, feeling the slightest tinges of a hangover, but otherwise feeling very much herself. She gave a sigh and extricated herself from him. “You have a point about the lack of privacy, but I’ll have you know it’s highly unfair to call me beautiful and not allow me to snog you a bit.”

“Oh is that all it takes?” He had a pleased grin on his face.

“Well it’s definitely not your stellar personality,” she said with a teasing smile of her own.

“Of course not. It’s my gentlemanly ways.”

He bowed very low and she gave a much-too-loud laugh as he took her hand. He leaned down, blue eyes gleaming into hers, then gave her knuckle a lick.

“You’re disgusting!”

“You wanted a tiny bit of tongue, so I gave you tongue!” he grinned, before dimming the lights and leading her up the stairs.

They stopped in front of Ginny’s bedroom and touched foreheads.

“I know tonight was… was difficult,” she said in a low voice, “but when it wasn’t… I really did have a good time with you.”

He shifted his head and kissed her forehead.

“I did too,” he murmured, giving her a soft smile. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she whispered, putting her hand on the handle to turn it when it slipped in her grasp. She tried again, but it wouldn’t budge. “She must have forgotten and locked it...”

She gave a light knock on the door, and Ginny didn’t answer. There was nothing but silence.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding…”

“What?” Hermione asked, trying the door again.

Ron did a few spells and gave a huff.

“Harry’s in there,” he said, disgusted.

“What? No… They wouldn’t… Would they?”

“I’d bet fifty galleons Harry’s in that bloody room.”

“Oh…” she replied, putting her fingers to her pursed lips. “I suppose I’ll stay in Percy’s room then?”

“Nah, you can come to bed with me.”

He walked towards the stairs before coming to a stop.

“Okay…” he said, turning on his heels, a panicked look on his face. “I didn’t mean to assume— You definitely don’t need to—”

“Yes!” she whispered back.

Ron looked only mildly less panicked at her answer.

“Yes like you’re agreeing you don’t need to come with, or yes like—”

“Yes, like I’ll stay with you.”

A thrill ran through her as they smiled at one another, the bit of moonlight shining through the window illuminating them. As they went up the stairs together excitement flooded her thoughts of sharing a room overnight with Ron. She’d shared the tent with him, but they’d never truly been alone all night, and they definitely hadn’t been under the scrutiny of Mr and Mrs Weasley.

She’d never been one for rule breaking. Well, that wasn’t quite true. Okay, she had to admit she broke rules rather regularly. She might have broken about a thousand rules in the last year alone, but that was different— it was for a just cause that would help everyone. In this case it was purely breaking rules for her own happiness. The rush of it made her feel the same peace she’d had at the club.

The moment they got to Ron’s room and saw Harry’s empty camp bed she approached Ron to kiss him. Only a meter away, he let out a large yawn before going to his drawers.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her an oversized orange shirt. It had the Cannons logo on it and was soft to the touch from so many wearings. She’d seen him wear it probably a thousand times. It was rather sweet that he’d thought of pajamas for her, but disappointment began to well in her. She wasn’t sure what she’d hoped for, but something closer to their activities at the shed was what she’d imagined. “Do you need some shorts or something for the bottoms?”

“No, I think your shirt will do,” she said as she held it up and realized it went halfway down her legs.

“Right,” he said with a grin, “Well, I can step out while you change.”

“You can stay here,” she said. She felt a fluttering in her stomach as his eyes shot back to hers.

“Oh, erm… Alright,” he said, his pink tongue darting out to lick his lips. “Right! Yeah…”

He turned about, head pointed up towards the low ceiling.

She let out a nervous giggle and changed out of her dress into the dress-length shirt. She did a silencing charm on the room, for good measure.

“You can turn around now.”

He turned around and looked at her with a soft smile.

“Nice to see you supporting the Cannons!” His eyes fasted on the logo with a growing grin before his eyes went wide and met hers. She looked down and realized it was very apparent she wasn’t wearing a bra in the thin shirt. He went back to his drawers and found a pair of pajama trousers for himself.

“Do you need me to turn around for you to change?” she asked.

“Up to you, really,” he said with a shrug, beginning to unbutton his shirt. She chose to watch him from the bed, enjoying how a tinge of red blossomed across his cheeks and ears. As he finally got to his belt and jeans he turned himself around.

She liked watching him like this. She’d never had the chance to unabashedly watch him before. They’d changed clothes on the run, but it had always been practical fast movements. She liked looking at his shoulders that were rather wide despite his thinness, and the glorious spattering of freckles that were most concentrated across his shoulders. He pulled the pajama trousers up over his plaid boxers then did a cute little hop to arrange himself. She liked the taper of his waist, and wanted to see if it was as enticing from the front. Watching him made her forget to breathe; forget to do much of anything.

She wasn’t sure when she’d stood from the bed, but her feet made a beeline to him. As soon as he turned she surged forth, that same neediness from the sofa fueling her movements. She jumped straight up into his arms making him let out a deep ‘oompf!’ She worried for a moment that she might have hurt him, jumping on him as she did, but reassurance came as he sighed into their kiss. They moved against each other in the middle of the room, the lamp casting shadows across the orange room creating the effect it was on fire.

It was a bit of a messy snog, but she didn’t care as he pulled her into a hard embrace. His tongue traced the inside of her mouth, and she slid both of her hands into his hair, enjoying the feel of his soft strands running through her fingers. They continued to kiss as their feet stumbled back until Ron’s legs hit the bed and the two fell to it with a laugh. The spell she’d done on the bed to widen the bed earlier that day had held up, giving them plenty of room to twine around one another and kiss. She reminded herself to reinforce the hastily done spell later, otherwise they might end up with one of them on the floor— but she decided it was better to put it off and not interrupt a perfect series of kisses.

Since she was about thirteen she’d wondered what kissing Ron Weasley would be like. Her earliest fantasies were delicate and chaste like she’d seen in movies. Later they became more heated and sensuous, but she’d had so little experience with kissing she wasn’t sure what she preferred their kisses to be, really, as long as it was with Ron.

Their first kiss had seared through her as he lifted her up off the ground. The second time he’d been tender and unhurried. She’d stopped counting their kisses, but each time it was perfect, whatever surprise he brought her way.

Now that they were on the bed his lips were soft. He’d started slow, lazily exploring her as if savoring each moment, his kiss a gentle caress that reeled her in, peppering in a tiny nibble here or there.

“Wait,” he murmured sitting up. “You’re sure you’re sober?”

“Yes,” she answered. Her fingers grazed down him, savoring the lean muscles, how very smooth his skin was until the lines she drew reached an errant scar he’d earned over the years. One of his hands began to trail up her hip, just managing to skim underneath the overly large shirt. The pad of his thumb was drawing slow circles that just tickled the bottom of her ribs.

Soft, hungry kisses were travelling down her neck. She moaned as he met the juncture between her shoulder and neck. Through half closed eyes she watched the lamplight make his hair spark with amber and copper and gold. Her fingers played with his hair as that thumb of his kept its path up her shirt, and she felt a molten heat forming within her at the sensation.

Then the hand travelled low again, fingers just skimming the side of her hips and then the elastic of her pants. She let out a sigh and adjusted her hips towards him.

“You can touch me,” she breathed.

He let out a low moan. His long fingers ghosted over her pants until one gave a hesitant stroke over the warmth between her legs. One finger became two as he stroked against her, and arousal began to pool for her in a way she’d never felt before. It was such a small amount of friction, but it made her head spin.

Ron was touching her. She always revered the little touches they shared— his hand on her hip, his forehead touching hers, his hand around her wrist— but this was something wholly new.

The fingers moving against her, combined with his lips sucking on neck, made the heat deliciously build. As he curled his fingers she found the need to pull him in closer. It wasn’t enough! She wanted to feel him on her, not through a wet scrap of fabric.

She let her hands travel from his silky hair down to the elastic of her pants and began to push them down.

He stopped and looked into her eyes with a questioning look. She nodded and he hooked his fingers on them and trailed them down her legs before discarding them.

He gave an appreciative hiss before smiling up at her.

“Fuck me, you’re pretty,” he said under his breath. Her cheeks burned, but not as much as the heat growing inside her as his hands trailed their way back to her. His fingers traced up her legs, just barely pressing their way into her flesh, before resting directly between her legs. He seemed to be looking at her with fascination, and the idea of him looking at her down there suddenly made her nervous. She gently guided his head up to her so they could kiss while his hand continued to explore. She gave a gasp as he managed to find her clit.

He held himself above her with one hand as the other brushed inside her, teasing wetness from her and making her feel light-headed. She guided his hand back up her shirt, to feel his hand graze her breast.

She wanted more of him. She wanted him against her. In a daring move, she hooked her feet behind his hips and crashed his hips into hers.

He let out a startled yell before the bed gave a large lurch and Ron’s left hand that had been bracing him above her went clear through the mattress, sending him rolling off her and crashing to the ground.

The bed gave another shutter, and the bed, which Hermione had spelled to a queen size mattress, gave a spasm before shrinking to its normal twin size.

“Sorry! I should have reinforced that spell! I’m sorry!” she cried out, sitting up to check on Ron. He let out a series of ‘fuck fuck fuck’s under his breath as he slowly got to a crawling position, though not putting much weight on the left hand that had gone through the bed.

“Are you okay?” she asked, putting a hand to his back.

His whole back tensed and he scrunched his eyes closed.

“Ron?” she asked, rubbing his back a bit. “You okay?”

“Don’t,” he said, jerking away and giving a shake of his head.

He gave a hiss as he slowly rotated his left arm and flexed his hand. His shoulders were drawn so high they almost touched his ears before they slumped.

“Is your wrist hurt?”

“Huh?” he dazedly asked, blinking a few times and sitting up. “‘M okay.”

She nodded before grabbing her wand from the nightstand.

“Let me see your wrist.”

He held it to his chest. “Why?”

She gave a roll of her eyes. “To fix it, of course.”

He gave a flex of his hand before sitting up on his feet and slowly extending his wrist to her.

She took hold of it and gingerly weighed it back and forth. “So you landed on it?”

“I guess,” he said unhelpfully.

He held his breath as she held up her wand and did an ‘Episkey’ charm on it.

“Better?” she asked, knowing she’d done it perfectly.

He flexed his wrist and gave her a tight smile. “Yeah, I imagine that did it.”

She felt a flicker of doubt. “It’s better, isn’t it?”

“Course it is. You always do spells perfectly,” he said with a roll of his eyes. She began to frown. He hadn’t answered the question. “Hermione, I’m fine. I just feel a bit off after falling face first onto my manky floor. Who knows what filth I might have landed in. At least it wasn’t Harry’s old pants or something.”

She gave a laugh.

“You should come back to bed.”

“It’ll be a tight fit,” he said, eyeing the small twin.

“Oh yes… Wait! Bring Harry’s camp bed over. I think the spell will last better if we’re merely transforming two beds into one, instead of extending one.”

He grabbed the bed, and removed all the sheets. With a few flicks of her wand she was again in a large queen bed. She realized she was still nude underneath his large shirt, and the lingering arousal hadn’t fully been chased away by his fall.

“Where were we?” she said, rather seductively she thought, which both impressed and surprised her. She’d never been very good at anything remotely close to sexiness, but she’d managed a rather saucy husky tone.

He gave a bit of a gulp and turned off the lamp before joining her in the bed. As her eyes adjusted, the moonlight illuminated them well enough to just be able to make out his features.

She began to kiss him again, trying to rekindle the fire they’d had a moment ago, but he felt stiff and unresponsive.

“Is your wrist still hurting?” she whispered.

“No, I’m fine,” he said, taking a breath before their kiss resumed. He began trailing kisses down her neck and skimming her sides as before, and she tried to feel that same fire. His hands were touching her in the same places, but there was a forced quality to every move and every kiss. Their bodies no longer coaxed and set pace with one another.

His fingers went back to between her legs and poked at all the wrong angles. It felt like he was trying to pick a lock with a pair of chicken drumsticks. He’d always had very short nails, so she was surprised when they seemed to be poking her instead of the pads of his fingers.

Then he stopped kissing her altogether and went lower until his head was even with her pelvis.

She wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of him looking down there. She’d barely ever looked down there, but didn’t imagine this could be a very flattering angle. At least it was dark in the room now?

He poked and prodded and she felt thoroughly turned off when one digit poked far too hard to the side of her labia.

“Erm… Maybe a little higher?” she asked, hoping he’d go back to her clit.

She gave a jolt as his nails showed up again. That was even worse! And how was that even possible when they were so short?

She accidentally let out a huff and he gave a sigh.

“This isn’t doing anything for you, is it?”

“It was…” The silence carried on, and she found herself entirely without words.

“It was rubbish,” he supplied.

“No?” she squeaked, biting her lip. He gave a withering look up through his eyebrows. “I’m sorry! It was really good earlier, though!”

He gave a snort. “Yeah I could tell it wasn’t going well when you weren’t as wet anymore…”

She pressed her face into the crook of her elbow to hide her eyes. It had seemed sexy at the time, but him actually saying out loud that she was ‘wet’ was absolutely mortifying.

“It really isn’t a problem,” she mumbled.

“Yeah it is,” he said, laying beside her, elbow on her pillow. He slowly turned her face towards his, blue eyes boring into hers. His eyebrows lifted and a small smile twitched, but not enough to bring out his dimple. “Let’s start again.”

“I don’t know…” she said, not sure she wanted to have him poke at her like that again.

“Let’s try again. If you want me to stop at any point I will.”

She looked into his eyes and saw a glint of determination in them she’d seen before. He made that face when he made the right move in chess, when he was about to save a goal, and when he was about to pull off a powerful spell. When he looked like that, nothing much could go wrong.

She gave a nod. It seemed too absurd to be shy, but she felt it burn through her as his hand cupped her cheek and brought her in for a languorous kiss.

A chasm of intimacy burst open as his lips burned against hers. As she surrendered to his kisses, she became increasingly conscious of his body, hot and hard against hers. His fingers slowly slid down the narrow of her waist, then edged behind and found her bare backside. He moaned into their kiss as he massaged it, almost as if testing the globe in his hand. Whatever awkwardness that had descended on them was gone, and her body molded to his.

With every kiss she felt marked as his, and she grasped his hair again. Only moonlight lit him, but she imagined the riotous color of his hair sunning her as she basked in his attention.

He stroked her between her legs again, this time finding a rhythm that made her hips jolt to meet him. The oversized shirt had ridden up past her breasts, uncomfortably bunching until she impatiently tore the shirt off over her head. He let out a rough groan and his hands and mouth stopped.

He pulled back a bit and stared at her nakedness.

She had the overwhelming impulse to reach for the sheet and cover herself, but resisted it. She held her breath as he silently stared, expression annoyingly enigmatic.

“W-well?” she let out, nerves making her voice pitch up. She was skinny, but still managed to have a bit of a tummy, and her breasts weren’t all that much to talk about, and her hips were too wide, and—

“Hermione,” he breathes out her name. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

She turned her head away. She wasn’t. Then his mouth was on hers again, and hands were exploring her breasts. His kisses trailed to the crook of her neck, to her clavicle then finally down her chest.

“Christ, you’re perfect. Fuck…” he said, almost to himself as he leaned down and took one of her nipples into his mouth, the other hand squeezing and kneading her breast.

He backed away to look at her again. The way he beheld her, she could almost believe she was beautiful and perfect. He had nothing but adoration in his eyes as his lips fell to her body. He trailed down her, as fingers grazed a hot trail, and made desire pool in her.

He went further down and her legs fell open to him. His fingers explored her, but this time they easily found a path that made her moan. He set a rhythm, and experimented with angles. She glanced down to see he was avidly watching her face, like he would a chess board. Eyes on her, he leaned forward.

It began with a tentative lick while a pair of knuckles just grazed her in the right spot. He continued to do this and she threw her head back in a gasp. Then his lips dipped between her legs and began to suck at her clit. She let out a long whimper as he continued to alternate between lapping at her and sucking at her like she was a final meal. Heat and slickness built in her, making her tilt her hips into him, punctuating her gasps with jerks of her hips.

She was on the edge of falling, when he found the perfect rhythm and stayed there. Quick susurrations on her clit, and his fingers just barely grazing inside her, teasing and nearly fucking into her, made the coil inside her finally spring.

A heady ‘don’t stop!’ barely made it out of her lips before she let out a sound like a sob as she came. She felt the spasm of it rip through her, and she clutched the pillow around her as her hips stuttered and followed his mouth, continuing to twist as his fingers slowed down.

She panted and shook her head as her thighs wobbled and finally relaxed, dropping her hips further into the mattress.

“Oh God…” she whimpered. “Fuck… Oh god…”

Her mind had never been more of a void. She was utterly shattered. There was nothing but sensation, still floating in aftershocks.

“You alright?” came a hoarse voice from between her legs.

She let out a rough laugh, then managed to open an eye from between her curls.

“I’m… I just…” she gasped and shuddered a bit.

“Better?” he asked, knowing perfectly well that he’d done amazing.

“Yeah, I imagine that did it,” she panted, mirroring his words from earlier. “I think we ought to thank Harry in the morning.”

“Do you really need to bring up that specky git right now?” he moaned, kissing the inside of her thigh.

“Well, if it weren’t for him taking up Ginny’s room, I wouldn’t have gotten to experience… That!” she said with a shaky gesture.

“Took a bit, but I think I did alright in the end,” he said, a tired grin on his face as he wiped his mouth.

“More than alright!” she proclaimed. She looked further down the bed and saw he was still hard. She was so flushed and buzzing she wasn’t sure she had the ability to blush. “If you want, I can try to return the favor?”

Ron blanched and shifted his hips.

“It’ll go away on its own,” he said with another kiss to her thigh. She didn’t bother masking her confusion. Didn’t teenage boys always want to ‘get off’? Was he so disgusted from going down on her that he didn’t want her touching him?

As if reading her thoughts, he continued. “It’s late and I want to be able to dream about that look on your face when you came. Fuck me, that was the hottest thing ever.”

He kissed her stomach right below her belly button then finally, wobblingly, crawled further up her body before collapsing beside her and kissing her. “I’ll definitely take a rain check though.”

“You sure?”

“I’m knackered. Dreams of me making Hermione Granger cum are all I need,” he hummed as he nuzzled up behind her. “I could get used to this.”

“So could I!” she said with a laugh. “I should clean up.”

“Nooo, just stay a little longer,” he whined, wrapping an arm around her middle and bringing the blankets onto them. Minutes passed. She wiggled in place as his breathing slowed.

“Just need to grab my wand.”

“Hmnnn,” he grunted into her side as she pulled her wand from the side table and did a quick clean up. She Accioed her shirt over, but had no way of putting it on without moving Ron.

“Ron?” she whispered. A small snore erupted in her ear and she sighed.

Dressing in the morning wasn’t the worst thing. Plus, she was draped in Ron, cozied up more intimately than she’d ever imagined she could be. His whole body radiated a comforting warmth, and in that one moment she felt more safe and contented than she had in years. Suddenly words she’d been achingly trying to keep at bay began to bubble up to the surface.

“Ron?”

He continued to snore.

In the safety of the darkness, in his arms, and without having to worry about his reaction, she whispered, “I love you.”

She only got snores in return, but there was a sort of relief in having said it out loud. Any tension left in her body dissipated, and he felt so nice spooned up against her that she felt her eyes drift close for just a moment.

* * *

She woke to the sound of apparition and a, “Ron, your mum is— oh shit! Sorry! Shit!”

Dazedly she shook her head at Harry’s cursing then, horrified, remembered her state of undress. Ron hadn’t forgotten and quickly yanked the quilt up to her nose.

“Shut it, Harry! Do you want Mum to hear you?” Ron hissed.

“Right, sorry!” he said, turning around with his back to them. He stood in only his boxers, hands clutching his clothes from the night before. “Erm… So, your Mum was waking everyone since it’s a bit late, and I fell asleep in Ginny’s room, and your Mum didn’t catch me, but I wanted to let you know in case… Well, in case of this, I guess.”

As he explained, a currant-faced Hermione yanked the Cannons shirt on and looked for her pants.

“And the best way to warn us was to Apparate directly in here to the foot of my bed?” Ron exclaimed, before reaching down to the foot of the bed and handing Hermione her pants.

“Yeah, well I am a mite bit hungover…”

“I’d tell you where some hangover potion is, but I don’t think you deserve it,” Ron replied, giving Hermione a peck on the cheek. “Alright we’re all decent now.”

“I’m really sorry!” said Harry, rubbing at his head. At first it looked like a tick of embarrassment, but he looked haggard enough that a hangover seemed the bigger culprit. “Er, where’s my bed?”

“It’ll be in the chicken coop if you do that again,” answered Ron.

Hermione finally gathered enough wits to grab her dress and say “I’ll meet you later,” and Apparated as silently as she could to Ginny’s room.

“There you are!” Ginny said, pulling on a pair of jeans. “Mum’s trying to get everyone up since it’s so late, and she almost put together where everyone stayed. Did Harry warn you?”

“If by warn me, you mean Apparate into the room and catch me completely starkers, then yes, he did an admirable job!”

“He did what?” Ginny roared with laughter. “Well I’m glad someone had a good time last night!”

“Didn’t you?”

“I mostly kept Harry from getting sick down the side of my bed. Though he did say he loved me, which was quite nice,” she said, a love-sick smile on her face.

Oh.

Hermione still hadn’t heard anything like that from Ron. He hadn’t even wanted her to touch him.

“I can’t believe he Apparated in there,” Ginny continued. “I told him to do it outside the door! We heard Mum bustling about and he was rather panicked at the idea of her being mad with him.”

Hermione nodded.

“So… Starkers?”

“Ginnyyy,” Hermione moaned and hid her face behind her hair.

“You know what? I don’t want to know,” said Ginny, running a brush through her long red hair. “Actually I do, but I think you’ve been through enough embarrassment for one morning. I’m going to go play some Quidditch, if Harry can get his act together. Want to come?”

Avoiding the house seemed a pleasant application of her time, but a quick glance to her book bag shuttered any thought of having a lark. She’d had her fun the night before, though she hadn’t earned it. She’d had enough avoiding. She needed to make plans for her parents.

* * *

It was arduous and barely fruitful, but at least she could say she’d put some thought into it, creating a schedule of places to visit over the next week to gather all the information she might need and who to glean it from. When she looked at the clock it was well past one in the afternoon.

At the Burrow it was unusual to go so late in the day and not be disturbed. She also hadn’t seen Ron since the fiasco that morning. The embarrassment seemed a perfect punishment for being so self indulgent. It was hard to believe she’d let herself fall asleep nude in his bed. She’d been so relaxed and…

“Oh!” Hermione gasped.

She hadn’t remembered to put up her silencing spell. Had she needed it? Had she woken up in the night? Perhaps there was a way to subtly ferret the information from Ron. Maybe she could bring it up at lunch. It was a bit late for it, but people always poked their head in when a meal was being served, so it must not have happened yet.

Despite having much more to do, she had to admit she needed food, or at least some strong tea, if she was to continue.

She went down the stairs to find the kitchen in uncharacteristic disarray. Bowls, trays and cutting boards littered every surface, but at the dining table was a very delicious looking feast of jacket potatoes with every sort of topping one could imagine all arranged in little ramekins.

“I bet there’ll be something to eat,” she heard Ginny’s voice carrying in from outside. She and a windblown Harry came in through the garden door. Her hair hung in an enviable curtain of beachy waves Hermione could never manage without bottles of Sleekeazy's.

“This looks a treat, doesn’t it?” said Ginny, going to sit at the table. “Well, let’s get Mum and Ron here so we can dig in!”

Just then Ron came down the stairs wearing one of Mrs Weasley’s patterned aprons that was dwarfed by his tall frame.

“Did you cook this?” Harry asked, looking impressed.

“Yeah… Mum’s been in her bedroom again,” he replied.

They all knew that meant she was distressed and had holed herself in her bedroom. Those had been coming with fewer and fewer days between them, and Hermione had to wonder what had caused it this morning.

“Why’d you go to such trouble? We have stuff for sandwiches,” Ginny asked, mood forcibly upbeat.

“I was hoping to tempt Mum out of her bedroom.” Ron sat out napkins and cutlery, slapping the metalware onto the table with more force than was necessary.

Harry and Hermione’s eyes met.

“We might want to clean off the kitchen counters, then,” said Ginny with a grin. “Looks a bit like a mad potion maker's laboratory.”

“You clean ‘em off, then, I’m famished.”

“I can clean them off,” Hermione volunteered, hoping to cut the tension, and Harry joined her in the effort, saying, “I’ll help.”

“The food’s all ready now— just leave it!” Ron protested.

“It’ll only take a moment,” said Hermione.

“Plus you didn’t make the mess, Ron did,” Ginny unhelpfully added.

“Oh fine!” growled Ron, and with a swish of his wand the items on the counter rushed their way to the sink with a great clatter, the metal cooking sheets causing a crash that reverberated around the room making everyone jump, and give small yells in succession. “There! Happy? It’s in the sink! Now will you all sit?”

“Merlin, Ron! Did you have to be so loud with it?” Ginny hollered, getting from her seat to get the rest of the dishes by hand. “What's gotten into you?”

“I just want people to eat the bleeding food! It took forever to make and it’s like herding a bramble of gnomes getting you lot to sit down and eat it all at once. No wonder Mum was always upset with us!” Ron groused. “I’m going to get her from upstairs, and when I get back, you lot better be seated at the table and piling up your potatoes!”

He stormed up the stairs, rattling the framed photos on the walls.

“You know, I always thought if one of us was to turn into Mum it’d be me, but I think Ron’s got it cornered. Did you see him, hands on his hip just like her!” Ginny snorted, miming Ron’s akimbo stance, and Hermione gave a reluctant laugh in turn.

As much as his dark mood made her worry, she did enjoy watching Ron doing little domestic things around the house. There was something rather charming seeing the overgrown young man in a flowery apron in a tither about everyone sitting down to eat.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he takes up knitting soon. What do you think, Harry?”

Ginny looked beyond Hermione and her face fell. Hermione turned to see Harry was sitting stock-still, wand tightly gripped in his hand. Hermione instinctively grabbed her wand. A shiver spread up the back of her head.

“You okay?” Ginny asked.

“Trays were loud, that’s all.” Harry’s eyes weren’t trained on any of them and he gave a stiff sort of shrug.

“Harry…” Ginny began, coming near him, but Harry shook his head.

“M’going outside,” he muttered before bolting out the door.

“Where’s he going?” Ron asked as he emerged from the stairs, looking cross.

“Your banging about with the trays set him off,” Ginny spat, going for the door.

Ron cursed before running ahead of her to the door.

“I’m the one who messed up, I’ll fix it,” he said, taking off his apron. “You two eat up. And Mum was asleep still, so I left her to it. Put some food aside for her and Harry with a warming charm, would you?”

He didn’t wait for a response before going out the door. Ginny silently gathered together full plates for Harry and her mother, getting a third one for Ron, though he hadn’t asked her to.

“I— I can’t do the warming charm… Still sixteen... Hermione would you?”

Hermione dutifully did so, making sure not to look as Ginny wiped at her eyes and gave a sniff. The redhead went to the sink and started furiously scrubbing at some trays.

“Shouldn’t we eat?”

“What’s the point?” Ginny sniped, slamming a dirty set of tongs into the sink. “Ron wants us to all sit down and eat like things are normal, but they aren’t and I don’t know when they will be. Mum’s only up for a few hours at a time, Ron’s the one making food, Harry’s going off from loud noises, and George…” Ginny shook her head. “I just want… I thought after everything we could find some happiness, but it’s just impossible.”

“You did find some happiness earlier, though, didn’t you? Playing Quidditch a bit with Harry?” said Hermione, feeling every inch a fraud trying to buoy anyone's spirits.

Ginny blushed a bit as she began scrubbing a pan. “We didn’t exactly get to the Quidditch part…”

Hermione nodded.

“I suppose that’s all we can do right now, little pieces of happiness like that.”

The two girls cleaned the kitchen in silence until it gleamed. They dutifully ate their lunches, looking to the door every few minutes for the boys to return. Hermione was able to get away with eating very little thanks to Ginny’s distraction, and managed to vanish the contents of her plate before Harry and Ron returned, both looking rather pale, but Harry no longer had a vacant stare on his face. Ginny quickly got him a plate and the two sat to eat their meal while Ron took a plate up to his mother’s room. Hermione waited for him to come back to the table to eat his own meal. He didn’t.

After twenty or so minutes she went up the stairs to find him outside his parent’s bedroom. He sat on the steps to the fifth landing, head on his knees and arms wrapped around his legs. The meal still sat outside his mother’s door, untouched. Hermione made sure to step on every squeaky board to alert him to her presence before sitting down beside him.

“Was your Mum still asleep?”

Ron shook his head before sitting up and rubbing his hands over his face.

“She’s crying and I can’t get her to stop…”

She desperately wanted to know what prompted his mother’s backslide, but didn’t want to push him. Pushing Harry had been disastrous the other day, and she hadn’t the energy to face it from Ron as well. Ron wasn’t like Harry, though. He didn’t bottle things up the same way, and she knew he’d open up and tell her without her having to harangue him for answers.

“George got arrested for breaking his parole,” he said in a low voice, eyes not meeting hers.

“What?! What parole?”

“Night before last he Apparated right on top of the London Tower Bridge. I was up when Kingsley called, so me and Dad went to get George from the Ministry. He got parole. Last night he broke it by pointing his wand in public and someone saw and reported him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

"I wasn’t going to tell anyone. George gets enough looks, doesn’t he? He’s been such a mess, and Dad and I thought it’d be best Mum knew when things were all settled, but Kingsley Flooed the house to check on George about an hour ago, and well…”

“What a terrible way to find out.”

“Mum’s been holed up in her bedroom since. Harry took Ginny for a fly, so neither of ‘em know yet... I just thought maybe some food and tea would work to coax Mum out, but of course it didn’t.”

“Where’s George now?”

“With Bill, I think. Bill took it on this time.” Ron just shook his head. He stared down at his hand and gave a loud swear.

“Is that the time?” he launched off the steps, barreling past Hermione.

“Where are you going?”

“To finish this fucking buggering pissing piece of shit day!”

She scurried after him, but ended up a floor behind him as his long legs skipped steps with ease. She could hear his mutters all the way down the stairs.

“Need to get some wellies, clean the kitchen…”

“Ginny and I saw to the kitchen” she called after him, hoping to slow him down.

“Oh, fuck me! The paperwork!” he moaned as he reached the last flight of stairs and Apparated with a loud crack. A few seconds later she heard another crack outside the house.

She went to the window and saw Ron sprinting away, paper in one hand, wellies in another, not bothering to look back or give a hint of an explanation.

For a terrible instant she was back next to that riverbank in Wales, rain pummeling her as she begged Ron not to leave her.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Little pieces of happiness… She supposed she’d have to live on the little pieces of happiness from the night before, because there weren’t any to be found today.

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

Next chapter is Ron's POV again. Thanks for reading! If you like this and want to see more please review! :)

I've been terrible at responding, but please know I read them and EVENTUALLY I respond to everyone. :P

BIG THANKS TO @abradystrix FOR BETA-ING!

#fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #romione #fanfic #ron weasley #hermione granger #waking up #chapter 6 #my writing

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batsandbugs · 3 years

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Help (I Need Somebody) Help

AN:Hey everyone! Hope you’re doing well, here’s chapter two of my wrong number daminette AU. I had a lot of fun with this, enjoy!

Chapter 2

Damian held back an unimpressed sigh when two goons rushed him. Their stances were off balance, and he could smell the stench of alcohol wafting off of them. A low sweep to their legs had both tumbling to the ground. If he had a dime for every lowbrow thug who thought they had a chance at beating him, he’d be richer than his father twice over.

It wasn’t his fault the brain lacking buffoons hadn’t figured out they had a snowball’s chance in hell to beat him in the seven years he lived here. Damian certainly wasn’t going to be the one to tell them different now. He needed some sort of stress relief after Alfred banned swearing in the house.

He flipped another grunt over his shoulders, an audible crack of a broken bone soon followed.

His mask hid a glint of amusement that was surely gleaming in his eyes, but he kept his face an annoyed scowl. The last thing he needed was word getting back to his father for finding pleasure in the suffering of others. Even if the whole reason they were out tonight, punching up a contingent of near brain-dead loons, was to stop a sex trafficking ring. It was times like this where he seriously considered the validity of his father’s no-killing rule; surely some scum wouldn’t be missed.

He whipped around to punch another man, nearly a foot taller than him and thrice as wide, across the face. Blood spurted from the thug’s nose as the behemoth fell to the ground. Good. Damian jumped back and flipped himself over to roundhouse kick another goon. Another satisfying crack, and the last of them had finally fallen to his superior skills.

Easy.

He waited for the warm glow of satisfaction after a fight well fought, but all he received was the familiar rush of adrenaline and the delicious burn of his muscles tensing for another go.

Unfortunately, all too easy.

Damian didn’t sigh, he was too disciplined for that, but the low-level grumbling in his mind, and the displeased sneer were all too indicative of his problem.

He was utterly unchallenged.

It wasn’t that he enjoyed getting beat to hell and back. He wasn’t a masochist (although, the same could not be said for the rest of his family, if anyone asked him (which, of course, they didn’t)). It was just… after three years with the Titans, constantly stretching to prove himself, pushing his abilities to keep up with those endowed with advantages he simply didn’t have, Gotham felt… lacking in comparison.

And with the Titans all but formally disbanded, Gotham was all he had.

Well… that wasn’t entirely true. He could follow Cyborg and Blue Beetle and join the Justice League. He had enough blackmail material on all the core members needed to vote him in if his father protested. It would be a welcome change; higher level threats and off world missions, if only there wasn’t the pesky problem of dealing with other heroes.

He would be the first to admit that in his younger teenage years his anti-socialness was a bit… problematic, but he’d grown past that. Socializing with the Titans had been difficult at first, but by the end he could say he was more than an acquaintance with them – even if he wouldn’t go so far as to call all of them friends. But even if he had gotten used to them, it still took three years. At least in Gotham his potential partners were all known quantities. Even if he disliked half of them on his good days.

“Robin, do you read?” called his father on the comms. He shook away his distracting maudlin thoughts.

He raised a hand to his comm. “All clear southside Batman, making my way to the roof.”

“Negative, Hood is already there. Red Robin needs help releasing the captives – cops will be here in fifteen.”

Damian bit back an irritated sigh. “I’ll be of more use-”

“Robin, that’s an order.”

The words wrapped around him, restricting in their resoluteness. He glared down at the unconscious thug and gave a swift kick to the side resulting in an incoherent groan. Gritting his teeth, he muttered, “Yes, Batman.”

His comm feed dropped off.

The resulting string of swear words he uttered in Arabic would have cost him two hundred dollars in the swear jar. Damian just didn’t give enough of a fuck to bring himself to care.

-0o0-

Damian didn’t slam his bedroom door shut, but it was a close thing.

Between avoiding his father, deflecting the inane chatter of his siblings, and dealing with the GCPD, all of whom were either corrupt, uncaring, or ridiculously overworked, he had been ready stab someone, repeatedly, consequences be damned.

And that discounted dealing with the inconsolable sobbing women they rescued from the shipping containers. The sight of dozens of girls packed together like cargo, most of them his age, if not younger, would be enough to throw even the most experienced off their game.

Damian lived through some truly horrid things growing up in the League. He killed a grown man before he lost his first baby tooth. Suffered through endless hours of training with painful consequences upon any sign of failure. He had been beaten, starved, tortured, and pushed to the extremes of what a child could endure, but the utter horror and disgust he was faced with tonight, well…

At least the suffering he’d endured had a point.

Rubbing a towel through his still damp hair, he collapsed on top of his bed with an exhausted groan. The shower did little in relaxing his tensed muscles, his bed a welcome retreat after being on his feet for hours. Reaching out blindly he grabbed his phone off his bedside table. Going to bed would be the better choice, but it was Saturday, so he didn’t really give a damn.

His phone flicked on and he was taken aback by the notification awaiting him.

40 unread messages

He raised an eyebrow. That was odd. Not completely impossible, but odd. He did have acquaintances who would text him, Jon and Garfield came to mind, but it would be one or two messages at the most. Maybe a missed call if it was something extremely important.

He unlocked his phone.

Tapping on his messaging app, he saw that the messages all came from an unknown number.

That raised even more concerns, considering anyone who had this number were people he should already have programed into his contacts.

This put Damian’s suspicions on high alert.

Cautiously tapping on the text stream, he began reading.

- As long as you’re not an evil villain running around in a purple suit or a bitchy Italian transfer student I figure you won’t care about what I have to say

- I haven’t slept in two days. My brain is buzzing. And between my insomnia and four years of repressed anger generated by existing in the same city as an emotional terrorist who uses magical butterflies to turn distressed people into monsters, I might come off a bit incoherent

Before Damian could stop it, a small laugh of amusement passed his lips. This person was either really high, or entirely serious.

His finger hovered over the delete button. This had nothing to do with him. The person admitted they were texting a random number to blow off steam. He should just let it go and get some sleep.

But despite the long drive home, the debriefing, and a shower, the adrenaline hadn’t left his system yet. And the sight of those women in the container wasn’t going to leave his brain for a while. Sleep wouldn’t be coming for a long time yet. Whoever this was, sounded, if not entirely sane, at least somewhat amusing.

Looking back on it, Damian didn’t know what the influencing factor that made him read further. It could have been amusement, or curiosity. It could have been sleep deprivation. It could have been the promise of distraction. It could all of those or none of those, or any combination thereof.

Or it could have been luck.

Pulling up the knitted blanket from the end of his bed, he settled in against his covers, and began to read.

Permanent Tag List

@theunquiet-dead @loveswifi @fusser90 @animegirlweeb @ihavehomeworkbutistillhere @your-resident-chicken-nugget

Story Tag List

@maskedpainter @ambrosiabcp03 @mystery-5-5 @faunrasthewinterelf @greatcatblaze @shifty-lesbian-retro-goblin @dorkus-minimus @nickristus-dreamer @beautiful-disasters-sunshine @justafanwarrior @lunathealphafemale @dood-space @sdg-art-film-stories @tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff @dawnwave16 @mewwitch

#damian x marinette #maridami #maribat #damimari #mlb crossover #ml x dc #marinette dupain-cheng x damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng x damian wayne #moodboard #damientte #fanfic

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cherryonigiri · 4 years

Photo

Moment I: Crash Landing (NOT) On You

Son of Zeus!Bokuto x Child of Demeter!Reader || PJO x Haikyuu AU

Summary: Bokuto swears it’s all Akaashi’s turtledove’s fault. If it didn’t decide to fly over Cabin Four, he wouldn’t be in this mess, fearing death (or at least serious injury) by celestial bronze gardening tool. (Featuring Kuroo, Son of Hermes, still the provocation master).

wc: 2.1k || genre(s): humor, fluff || masterlist: turtledoves & daisies

A/N: this is the first fic I’ve written in a while, so I’d appreciate any feedback/comments. Also can i just say that I’m absolutely infatuated with Son of Zeus!Bokuto 🥺

“Bokuto-san, be carefu!l” Akaashi worriedly watches as his white-haired friend streaks through the sky. Bokuto has his hands outstretched, golden eyes wholeheartedly focused on the turtledove fluttering in the air in front of him. Zipping closer, he swipes at it again, trying in vain to capture the bird as it darts away from his grasp.

His fingertips brush the feathers, only for it once again dodge his hand. “Dammit.” Bokuto scowls as he continues to loop around the dove. As much as he loves flying, the sun is starting to hurt his eyes as he struggles to capture Akaashi’s turtledove. He knows Akaashi loves the bird, but by the gods, did it have a “free spirit” and then some. To be fair, Akaashi had befriended it during a quest, so it’s probably all magicked up or something. Which would explain why it was impossible for him to catch the stupid thing despite being a literal son of the skies.

Apparently the turtledove just wants to make his day harder because suddenly it dives downwards towards Camp Half-Blood, darting past the lava-belching climbing wall as it makes it’s way towards the fields. Bokuto gives chase, plunging after the damn bird, pouring on the speed as he tries to catch up to the (he’s now 95% sure it’s) magic avian. He can see his outstretched hand getting closer and closer towards the bird and he is finally able to just get his arms around it when suddenly he hears someone shouting his name.

“Bokuto-san!” Akaashi cries out from a distance, watching in horror as his friend continues to speed towards the ground

“LOOK OUT!” a foreign voice shouts as several other campers scream. Twisting midair, Bokuto does his best to shield the bird from the impact as he plows through the soil, uprooting the rows of wheat, and—

Oh shit. He can see the golden stalks slowly floating down from the air. Please, please, please tell me I didn’t land where I think I landed. There’s a giant divot in the soil where he must have skidded to a stop. His head is aching, and he’s definitely scraped up, but otherwise he’s fine. Bokuto has never gotten seriously hurt from a fall before (courtesy of being a son of Zeus, he guesses). He’s a little banged up, and he’ll definitely be sporting a few bruises, but nothing a bit of ambrosia can’t fix. Groaning, he sits up, and gets a better look around him. There are several campers staring at him in shock, and an increasing number are beginning to look pretty pissed. In the distance, he can see emerald vines agitatedly waving in the air. There’s only one place within the entire camp where you could find moving plants, and oh my gods he is so screwed— Yup, he definitely landed smack dab in the middle of Cabin Four’s fields.

Gods he is in so much trouble- Demeter’s children are fiercely protective of the magical plants in their gardens, fields of wheat included. Grown from mysterious seeds gifted to them by their mother, the crops behind their cabin always seem to yield fruit regardless of the season and can regrow harvests overnight. (Bokuto can confirm this because he once spent an entire evening staring at a watermelon as it developed from bud to full fruit before the sun rose.) Cold dread settles in his stomach once he remembers that the plants only retain their regenerative abilities so long as they remain rooted in the soil of Camp Half-Blood. And he can tell with a glance that the piles of wheat surrounding him are most definitely not rooted in anything. Ah, that’s probably why more than half of Cabin Four looks like they wouldn’t mind tying him up and throwing him into the sacrificial flame before dinner.

Hearing footsteps behind him, he gulps as he stands, turning around to face a pissed off Cabin Four camper. “What the hell did you do to my plants Bokuto?” you scream at him. Bokuto is well known—his shockingly bright hair is recognizable anywhere, and he’s also a son of one of the Big Three, so it’s no surprise you know his name. Tilting his head, he tries to match your face to a name. Maybe you’re a new camper? A glance at the cord around your neck, filled with more than a few beads, assures him you’ve been at camp for a while. Damn, it seems like you’re one of the few campers he’d never crossed paths with up until now. Akaashi appears behind you, chest heaving from sprinting towards Bokuto. He makes concerned eye contact with Bokuto, and the owl-haired man nods reassuringly before revealing the turtledove safely tucked behind his arms.

“Um...I was trying to get this back to ‘Kaashi,” he blurts out, shoving the turtledove in your face. You raise an eyebrow before turning towards the bird. You coo at it, whistling and nodding as the bird chirps back at you. They’re one of the campers Konoha’s mentioned before - the ones who can talk to animals he recalls, watching in awe as you converse with the turtledove. You seem to nod before gesturing for Bokuto to release the dove, which he does hesitantly. Surprisingly, it calmly hops from his hand to your arm, chirruping and nuzzling your cheek with its head as you turn around.

Walking towards another section of the garden, you finally stop in front of a cluster of vines. Moving the dove to your shoulder, squat down, coaxing the vines to slowly grow outwards and around your hands. Your gaze becomes focused, and the spring breeze seems to dance around you as the vines intertwine, spiraling to form a beautiful cage. With a snap of your fingers it’s complete, vines retreating from your hands and moving back towards the soil, leaving you with a sphere of intertwining branches that somehow still look alive despite not being attached to a living plant.

With a small shrug, you nudge the bird towards the entrance of the cage, smiling when it happily chirps it’s satisfaction. Turning around, you hand the spherical container to Akaashi. “She didn’t like the metal cage, but as long as you leave the door open she promises to come back by sunset and not cause any trouble, right?” you pause to look at the turtledove out of the corner of your eye, but she quickly coos at you, assuring you that you shouldn’t be seeing any stray turtledoves for the time being. Akaashi quietly nods and thanks you, clutching the cage firmly to his chest.

For a moment, Bokuto breathes a sigh of relief - it seems like his days of turtledove chasing are over. That quickly changes as you whip around and stomp back towards him, seemingly with the wrath of Hades in your eyes. With one flick of your wrist he finds himself quite literally rooted in place with the surviving wheat stalks and surrounding grass tightening around his limbs. You pull something out of your pocket and oh gods is that a celestial bronze shovel?!

“You!” You’re glaring at him, pointing your shovel at his chest. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to get those magical wheat seedlings growing right?”

Bokuto swallows nervously before shaking his head. Your scowl deepens, and now the shovel is definitely pressing into his collarbone and he’s just the slightest bit worried that he might actually meet an untimely demise (via. a highly enhanced gardening tool).

“You’re so lucky we just harvested this field yesterday, otherwise I would have personally gone to Chiron and requested that you be banned from participating in all combat-related activities for a couple of weeks!”

“Hey, hey, hey! Isn’t that a little much? It’s not like I destroyed the whole field or anything,” Bokuto protests. Sue him for being a little competitive, but he enjoys the chance to butt heads with other campers (all in good fun of course).

“It’s not like I destroyed the whole field or anything,” you parrot back at him in a sing-songy voice. “Yeah, and thank the gods for that, otherwise I’d actually whack you with this shovel right now.” On second thought maybe he shouldn’t talk back. Wounds caused by celestial bronze- even tiny scrapes and bruises - sting like a bitch and aren’t as responsive to ambrosia and nectar. He’d rather not deal with a stinging injury for the next couple of days on top of recovering from his untimely crash-landing into your field.

“Woah, woah, woah, y/n.” Bokuto sighs in relief when he hears Kuroo’s voice. The dark haired son of Hermes approaches you, waving his hands placatingly in front of his chest. “I’m sure we all realize that Bokuto probably shouldn’t have dive bombed your field—”

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault bro!” Bokuto hisses at Kuroo.

“Shut up Bo, I’m trying to save your ass right now,” Kuroo whispers back, before going back to smiling sheepishly at you.

“--but I’d also appreciate it if you didn’t knock my best friend out with a celestial bronze object.”

Chuckling, you tuck the shovel back into your pocket. “I wasn’t gonna even touch him,” you retorted, “just wanted to scare him a bit since this is gonna be a pain in the ass to fix-up.” You sigh, looking at the carnage around you. Any plant grown from your mother’s magical seeds was temperamental at first— the first time you’d tried to grow this field of wheat the plants had almost overtaken all the land surrounding the cabins. It took a careful combination of soil preparation, plant magic, plus many hours of watering, shoveling and weeding, to coax them to grow without overrunning the rest of Camp Half-Blood.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, and now that Akaashi’s bird isn’t trying to Shawshank Redemption its way out of a cage every ten minutes, I’m sure you won’t be getting any sudden sons of Zeus falling from the sky anytime soon,” Kuroo jokes.

“Doesn’t mean it’s going to be a walk in the park to get this back together,” you complain. Your eyebrows are pinched together, lips sticking out in a small pout, and for some reason, despite the fact you’re probably still pissed at him, Bokuto can’t help but find your expression slightly endearing.

Noticing the small pink spots that appear on Bokuto’s cheeks, Kuroo follows his friend's gaze. His smirk deepens when he realizes what’s caught the silver-haired man’s attention. Golden eyes glimmering at the opportunity to provoke you just the tiniest bit, Kuroo replies “Would you mind untying Bo? I mean I know you’re into some kinky stuff y/n but I didn’t realize that—”

“Oh my gods, shut up Kuroo!” you growl, cheeks burning with embarrassment. A rushed wave of your hand causes the vines to drop Bokuto unceremoniously onto the ground. Within a second you’re less than an arms’ length away from Kuroo, celestial bronze shovel pinned against his throat. “I will not hesitate to hit you with this if another word about that so much as leaves your mouth Kuroo,” you hiss.

Kuroo gingerly eases the deadly gardening implement away from his neck, backing away with Bokuto in tow. “Don’t worry about it y/n, after all, we did agree it was only a one-time thing,” he responds, laughing when he sees your back stiffen.

“I hope you go rot in Hades, Kuroo Tetsurou!” you huff, as you roll your eyes. “Go drown in the Acheron or something!” you add before stomping back towards your cabin.

“I’ll let you know when Nico or someone else from Cabin Thirteen has an opening in their calendar to take me down for a visit!” Kuroo barks out a laugh when he catches you flipping him off as you walk towards the cabins.

Stretching your hands above your head, the tension seeps out of your shoulders as the sun sets. You can see the lights of the mess hall glowing in the distance, but you’re too exhausted to bother with a big dinner or company from the other cabins tonight. Instead, you stroll back to your bunk in Cabin Four for a well deserved nap. (If you get hungry, you can always raid the cabin pantry later.)

In the distance, a pair of golden, owl-like eyes keep drifting towards your retreating figure, wondering, why, of all things, you have a celestial bronze gardening shovel.

Bonus Facts:

Y/n owns an entire set of garden tools made with celestial bronze. Bokuto discovers this later and is genuinely scared + concerned™

“That” refers to a secret game of truth and dare that happened one night when all the counselors got bored during their weekly meeting. Both Kuroo and y/n have sworn on the River Styx to never reveal any specific details from said truth and dare. To this day y/n wonders how Kuroo has gotten away with using it to tease them despite their oath.

Bokuto has actually met y/n before, but just in passing. They were responsible for setting plant traps before a particular game of capture the flag that allowed y/n’s team to waltz over the flag and win the game within a half hour, all while Bokuto’s team could do nothing but dangle from where they were tangled in plant stems and watch.

#bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu #fukurodani x reader #fukurodani #akaashi keiji #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu scenarios #pjo au #pjo x haikyuu

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bluegarners · 3 years

Text

“Damian takes a pic with a mall santa, chaos ensues”~ anon

For 12 Days of Batfam prompts

“I do not see why traveling here was necessary.”

“Aw, don’t be like that, Dami! We’re going gift shopping!”

“Clearly. However, actually going to this cesspool of idiots is ridiculous. The internet exists for a reason, Richard. It is about time you learned how to use it.”

“That takes all the fun out of it though,” Dick pouts, landing a hand in Damian’s perfectly combed hair. “It’s practically like a tradition at this point. Besides, it’s a lot more fun to actually look at what you’re buying and not just try and guess what it’s like through a screen. What if it wasn’t like you wanted? What then?”

“Returns exist as well,” Damian grumbles, swatting at the hand still latched firmly to his scalp. “If the purchase is void, then a simple return is all that is necessary to begin again.”

“For once,” Tim sighs, cringing a bit at the obnoxious mall-music and over enthusiastic sales people trying to approach him, “I agree with the brat. This is uncomfortable and just… over the top. I know what I’m looking for, and reviews on products help determine if the thing is actually good. There isn’t any reason to be here, Dick.”

“On the contrary, my beloved brothers,” Dick grins, mouth stretching impossibly wide as his eyes land on something in the distance, “There is actually a fantastic reason for us to be here.”

As if deciding on something, Dick nods to himself before quickly turning around and clapping his hands together. “Okay, here’s the plan. We’re already here and it would be a waste to drive back after it took us an hour to get here, so we are staying.”

Cue the simultaneous groans.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Dick reprimands. “Let me finish. You guys can do anything you want. It’s the freakin mall, so it’s got other stuff than just stores. I don’t care what you do, as long as it’s legal. You could even just hang out in the food court, as long as you’re doing something. I need to do a couple things, but I will call you when I’m done and we’ll rendezvous somewhere.”

“You are leaving me here?” Damian asks, surprised. “With Drake of all people?”

Dick leans down to ruffle his hair again, but Damian moves away, a dark scowl edging its way onto his brow. “No, I refuse to be left alone with this imbecile.”

“As if I’d want to babysit you in the first place,” Tim mutters, glaring at the youngest.

Dick smiles pleasantly, a contrast to the way he squeezes both of their shoulders tightly, pulling them closer to him.

“We’re not going to have any problems, right boys?” he asks sweetly, eyes crinkling. “Because it would be a shame if I had to make use of that lovely return policy on all the gifts I had planned this year.”

“Do you take me for a child-”

“Seeing as this is the last week I have left in Gotham, it would be quite the disappointment if I didn’t get to train surf with either of you before I leave again too.”

Damian shuts his mouth quickly, the idea of banning dual patrol before the eldest’s departure more threatening than lost gifts.

“I don’t like train surfing,” Tim says smugly, crossing his arms in victory, “and I don’t like playing babysitter.”

Dick slowly tilts his head towards him, and the strain in his smile is enough to make Tim wither a bit.

“All I’m asking for is maybe an hour of alone time while I get some stuff done. You don’t have to do anything together, you don’t have to go shopping if you’re so adamant on doing it online, and you don’t have to eat. Just please stick together. That’s all. Please, Tim.”

His resolve lasts all of four seconds before it crumples, and Tim looks to the side as he groans out a forlorn, “Fine.”

“Great!” Dick exclaims, an easy smile blooming back onto his face. “I’ll see you guys in an hour.”

And just like that, Dick disappears into the crowd, leaving behind two very disgruntled boys in his steed.

They stand there, refusing to acknowledge one another’s presence, before Tim sighs again and thinks, Well, might as well be a big brother. Holiday spirit and all that jazz.

“Okay,” he starts, half-way turning to face the youngest again, “Is there anything you want to do?”

Damian doesn’t say a word.

“Any stores?”

Silence.

“They, uh, have a movie theater in here. Any movies?”

Damian still refuses to open his mouth.

Well, fuck me, I guess, Tim bemoans, having the inability to think of anything worse to do than spend his Saturday afternoon looking after the gremlin in his charge.

Suddenly, Damian turns on his heel and begins walking away. Tim frowns, chancing a quick glance behind him to see if Dick was secretly watching them and if he could make a break for it, but decides against it at the last second. A happy Dick Grayson was infinitely easier to deal with rather than a disappointed one.

Everyone knew disappointment was worse than anger.

He follows Damian quietly, keeping his distance and sidestepping the insane amount of people and sellers, all looking to get something. Tim doesn’t hate people, per-say. He finds them fascinating at times, but when he’s not looking to be fascinated, he just finds them uncomfortable to be around. Noisy, touchy, and all around obnoxious. There were precious few people Tim could say he liked to be around, and these strangers in the enormous mall were not them.

Damian walked with purpose, easily evading others and taking turns as if he knew where he was going. Perhaps he did, but Tim can’t recall a time where any of them actually frequented the mall often enough to know where things were. At least without looking at a map or asking an employee.

A minute later and Damian vanishes from sight. In a blink, he’s gone from the endless swirl of people and Tim panics slightly. How does someone lose a child so quickly? How is that possible? He was literally right in front of him, Tim had his gaze locked on the green hoodie, but it’s as if the brat was made of air. Poof, gone.

He pauses, turning this way and that in search of the elusive Wayne. It was unfortunate that the brat was shorter than the average 13 year old, if only by half an inch, but now was not the time to goad over heights. Tim is tempted to just text Dick and say he lost Damian, but hearing that in his head, after literally five minutes of being alone, does not sound like a fantastic idea. He can practically predict the lecture that would follow, words of, “Come on, I know you guys don’t get along super well, but he’s your brother,” and “I was gone for all of two seconds- how did he escape so easily?”

Tim groans, a common thing he’s been doing ever since they stepped into the epitome of capitalism, and resigns himself to continuing the search. Oh, he was so going to beat the brat during their next spar. This entire thing was not worth the discounts.

Damian smirks as he watches Drake fiddle around like a fool, searching blindly for him. If Drake had actually been paying attention, he would have seen Damian step into the small candle store to the right, hiding behind an outrageous depiction of Saint Nick practically shoving some holiday scent down his throat.

As it were, though, Drake was a twit with half the brains of a goldfish, and Damian feels a sense of satisfaction wash over him as the older teen walks away in the opposite direction.

He was free and alone. Perfect.

Well, not really.

Damian had agreed to go to the mall in the first place on the condition that it would just be he and Richard. It had sounded somewhat enjoyable, Richard hinting at some sort of surprise, but he was greatly displeased at the sight of another figure waiting for them in the car. Of all the people in the world to choose from. Of all the available and useless ignoramuses out there, Richard just had to ask Drake to come along.

Of course, he immediately protested because he had been promised that it would just be the two of them, but Richard insisted and used that horribly childish face with wide eyes and saddened sulk and giving in, at that point, was the only wise decision Damian could make from then on. In no way did he plan on spending this hour with Drake, awkwardly attempting conversation and suggestions that sounded boring enough to sleep to.

So, his plan of action was simple and executed flawlessly. All he had to do for the next 50 minutes was stay out of sight of both Drake and Richard, and the rest of that time was his to do with as he pleased.

He had already chosen gifts to present later on in the week, there was no need to do extra shopping, so all there really was to do was explore.

Which is exactly what he did for the next forty minutes before he felt his phone begin to vibrate in his back pocket. He pulls it out, squinting at the caller ID of Grayson.

He lets it ring for a few seconds, some part of him thinking the wait as some sort of pay-back for betraying his promise, and answers on the last ring.

“Damian?” Richard says, urgency coloring his voice.

Instantly, Damian is paying more attention. “Yes? What is it?”

“I need you to meet me at the center, it’s important.”

“The center?” Damian mutters, scanning the crowded walkways for a map. “Why? What is happening?”

“I’ll fill you in when you get here, okay? Just get here as fast as possible.”

“Affirmative.”

Richard hangs up first and Damian begins searching for the nearest wall-map. He finds one and tsks when he sees he’s in the far west region of the mall, the center, if he walked like a normal person, taking upwards of about five minutes to reach.

He’d been given no details, nothing except the urgent lilt in Richard’s voice, a dead give away to how nervous he was. Nervous about what though? What could possibly make Nightwing frantic in an area like this? It must be something mildly bad, or at least dangerous for civilians, for Richard to call him. Crowd control possibly.

He hadn’t heard anything other than the usual noise of the populace, so Damian rules out a fire or some maniac shooting. There doesn’t seem to be an urgency in the way the crowd shifts, no clear tell for panic.

His phone vibrates again and Damian immediately answers.

“Where are you?” Richard asks, that same nervousness pitching his voice.

“I am near a clothing store: Urban Outfitters,” he responds, picking up his pace slightly.

“Hurry,” Richard pleads. “You need to be here in two minutes or less or else I might- just hurry, please. When you reach the center, there will be a large Christmas tree off to the right. I’m over there. Find me when you get here.”

“Wait, Richard-” but Damian can’t get anything else in before the older man hangs up again.

The vagueness of the situation begins to worry Damian as well, doing as asked and trying his best to weave in between people and their annoying need to create a stiff, horizontal line wherever they walked. He curses when a little girl holding an absurdly shaped stuffed animal darts out in front of him, oblivious to the obstruction she’s caused.

She trips and falls, slapping into the smooth tile. Damian is tempted to walk around her, unmoved by her pitiable cries for her clumsiness, but when he glances back and sees no one else, no parent or sibling or literally any other bystander willing to help her, he rolls his eyes and turns back around. He holds out a hand and pulls the little girl to her feet, her tears silenced by the strange act of kindness.

“Where are your parents?” he asks gruffly, anxious as the precious seconds tick by.

“Uhhhh….I don’t know.”

I should’ve kept walking, Damian thinks to himself.

Tim is practically giddy with excitement. Dick stands behind him, arms crossed and peering over the heads of countless other parents and children, in search of Damian.

After having wandered around in a vain search for the brat, Tim had finally given in and texted Dick, apology in tow, when Dick had told him to meet him in the center of the mall. There, Tim had spotted the eldest standing in a long line filled with kids no older than eight and tired parents, disheveled and attempting to keep their children’s hair neat.

As soon as he’d tapped on his shoulder, Dick had reared around, the biggest shit-eating grin on his face as he said, “It’s tradition to get a picture with Santa.”

Tim less than fondly recalls his own picture with the infamous mall Santa, the old man smelling of cigarettes and too spicy cologne to mask it. All the bat-kids had taken a photo with the cheap Santa at some point or the other, Tim having been the oldest to do so at fifteen. Dick had taken his when he was ten, and Jason at eleven.

However, once he registers the actual words that had come out of Dick’s mouth, Tim feels something close to euphoria rise in his chest as he now understands it was the brat’s turn to sit on off-brand Santa’s lap and have his picture taken. Oh, would that be a sight to behold. Chaos to be sure. Most likely some screaming as well. A lot of protest and cursing. Maybe even some tears.

A sight to behold.

“I knew you guys wouldn’t stick together,” Dick explains, “So I figured I’d call you over here earlier. Then, I’ll call Damian once we’re close to the front and act like it’s an emergency so he’ll have no choice but to come quickly.”

Tim was impressed. “You know,” he says, eyeing Dick, “You’re a lot more evil than everyone thinks.”

“The term you’re looking for is evil mastermind, Timmy.”

“Uh huh,” Tim jokes, excitement building in his bones as he notices they’re only two spots away from what is destined to be the greatest moment of his life.

“Look! I see him!” Dick exclaims, pointing in the far distance.

Indeed, there was Damian in his green hoodie, half-jogging, half-walking as he headed towards the Christmas tree Dick had directed him to.

“We’re next,” Tim says anxiously, glancing at the teenager dressed as an elf, who was probably wondering why the two of them were standing in a line meant for children.

“It’s fine,” Dick reassures, his own thrill building. “He’ll be here.”

And, as if one cue, because malls are where miracles happen, Damian calls out, “Richard!”

Dick waves him over, compulsion in every movement of his arm. “Hurry, Dami!”

The teenager elf is now guiding them into the “Miracle Circle” and Dick yanks at the sleeve of Damian’s hoodie before he can even register what’s happening. Tim has to keep a hand over his mouth in order to stop himself from snickering at the bewildered look on the youngest’s face, eyes blown wide as he takes in the bright lights and tinsel.

“Richard,” he growl-whispers, “What is this?”

“Tradition,” Dick answers, tugging him closer to the overweight man sitting on the massive throne. “And it’s time you partake in it. I let you get away from it last year because I lost track of time, but not this year. This year, Dami, is where you finally experience,” he leans in closer, nearly whispering, “the joys of a mall Santa.”

“No,” Damian says, aghast as Dick pulls him closer and closer to the center. “No, I refuse. Unhand me this instant.”

He is powerless though against Dick’s firm grasp and excellent navigation skills. Everyone is watching. Everyone is staring.

“Hello there, little one,” mall Santa booms, arms out stretching as he reaches for Damian. “Come sit on Santa’s lap and tell me what you’d like for Christmas.”

“Richard,” Damian pleads, struggling as he eyes the suspicious fake beard, “If you do this, I will never forgive you.”

“I’m sorry, Dami,” Dick amends solemnly, a lie written all over his face. “I have to. It’s tradition.”

Faster than even Damian can react, Dick is sweeping him off his feet and plopping him onto the lap of a complete stranger.

“What’s your name?” mall Santa asks, Damian recoiling at the rank breath.

“Let me go,” he demands.

“Oh ho ho,” mall Santa chuckles, stomach jostling like a gross bowl of jelly. “We haven��t taken our picture yet!”

Mall Santa points a little off to the right, and it is with horror does Damian spot not only Richard, but Drake, Father, and Pennyworth aiming cameras at him.

Drake waves at him, shit-eating grin plastered shamelessly on his face. Richard is cooing through his phone, oo-ing and awe-ing at the scene. Father looks at least a little bit sympathetic, pity spelled out over his face as he watches his youngest son try to free himself from the mall Santa’s surprisingly strong grip. Pennyworth takes one picture, quickly putting away his phone.

Damian is sure that the one picture is enough to spell doom for the rest of his life.

“You know,” mall Santa whispers, nearly suffocating Damian in the vice-like hug he’s trapped in, “Most kids smile when they take pictures with Santa.”

“I am not inclined to smile for a pedophile,” Damian snarls back.

“Well,” mall Santa sighs, voice suddenly less cheery, “I guess that means you’re on the naughty list then, you little shit.”

Damian stills in his struggle, eyes widening as he turns to meet the green eyes of the man who holds him.

“Todd?” he hisses, humiliation rising as the man just chuckles, winking.

“Happy holidays, little boy,” Jason cheers, playing up the act. “If you’re good, Santa might-”

The next morning, the top headline from the Gotham Gazette reads,

Christmas Chaos: Youngest Wayne Punches Santa!

The article gets framed above the tree in their living room, and Damian waits for the day to exact his revenge. Soon. Soon.

#dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #jason todd #bruce wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #dick grayson & damian wayne #dick grayson & tim drake #chaos #fluff #santa #fanfiction #prompt #writing #anon #12 Batfam prompts #batfam #my fic

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angrylizardjacket · 3 years

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dirtbags // 4: Lola

Summary: High school AU. 1985. Winter. Heather’s party is huge; Lola makes new friends, get better acquainted with some underclassmen, and turns out to be far cozier with the hostess than anyone could guess. The next day, Nikki comes to work despite his hangover, while Charlotte and Eileen plan Vince’s murder. Razzle’s just there to have fun.

A/N: 6603 words. For @misscharlottelee and @julymotel , my beloveds, as always. Sorry it's late, it's been a hell of a week. But, here's the kids. I should say that this chapter does include slight, implied internalised homophobia, just as a warning.

judge if you want, we are all going to die. i intend to deserve it.

For the record, Lola isn’t a party-goer by nature, and the fact that she’s been to two in as many months is baffling her. Usually she just goes to see bands, and sometimes hangs out at peoples’ houses, but high school parties specifically alluded her for most of her time in Boston. It’s not that she wasn’t invited, but her mom had been something of a hardass, and the closest she’d ever gotten was when drunk kids made their way to the diner right before closing on a Friday or Saturday.

Her dad’s fully supportive of her going out and partying, which is weird in it’s own right. He writes down their home phone number on a piece of paper, in case Lola can’t remember it when she’s drunk - his words - and tells her to call whenever she needs a lift. Don’t go get into a car with strangers. Drink plenty of water. Be safe. Have fun.

“Dad, you’re being weird,” she’d told him flatly, applying eyeliner to her waterline in the bathroom. Leo, leaning against the door with his arms crossed, was watching her with a fond expression.

“If I was a hardass and banned you from going out, you’d probably still sneak out anyways -” Lola goes to protest, which Leo finds sweet, but he holds a hand up, and she lets him continue, “not that I don’t think you respect me, but I just know what it was like being a teenager; if you got into trouble while sneaking out, you wouldn’t feel like you could call me for help,” he explained, giving pause, “but I always will, you know that, right?” And Lola nods, but goes back to applying eyeliner, knowing her father’s tone of voice too well, anticipating the fact that he was about to dive into a story of his own to help prove his point.

“When I was your age, or maybe a bit younger, fifteen or sixteen, me and some friends snuck out to a bonfire one night that my parents had absolutely forbidden me from going to, and I ended up needing to go to the emergency room from a burn I got on my hand from being an idiot around the fire,” and he raised his left hand, to show the still visible, large scar on his palm, “I was more terrified of what my father would do than of the burn itself so I didn’t try and call him or mum; I walked home from the hospital alone the next morning, and lied about how I got the burn.”

Lola paused, lowering the eyeliner pencil, meeting her father’s gaze in the mirror. Leo’s smile had turned a little sad at the memory; Lola doesn’t hear much about her grandparents, and she wonders if stories like this are the reason why.

“You’re my kid, Keola, I never want you to think you can’t come to me for help, okay?” It’s rare for Leo to use Lola’s full first name, usually reserving it for more poignant and earnest moments, so every comment about how he’s being a sap, or that she already knows, dies on Lola’s tongue.

“Thanks, dad,” she smiles soft, and Leo smiles back, all crows feet and laugh lines, before he tells her that she looks badass, and he steps out of the doorframe, heading back downstairs to the diner.

By the time Lola shows up, it’s just edging past eight-thirty, though the party still seems to be in its early stages. There’s music that can be heard down the street, and fairy lights scattered throughout the garden, though most of the partygoers who had already arrived are still confined to the house. Apart from a gangly, dark-haired boy whose face she knows, but whose name she doesn’t, sitting on the wide, ostentatious front steps, looking up at the stars glittering overhead. There’s a cigarette in a loose grip between two fingers, though the ash has already burnt down half of it without him tapping it off; it’s almost comical, she’s pretty sure he hasn’t even put it to his lips yet.

“You’re wasting that,” Lola points out, and the guy is jolted from his thoughts, the movement sharp enough to have the ash falling from the cigarette and to the ground by his shoes. He looks to the cigarette, which has gone out, and then to Lola, a little helpless, “I could take it off your hands,” she offers, unsure of how to proceed, and he holds the cigarette out, smile blooming on his face.

“I can’t get the hang of it; I’m playing a smoker in this play I’m doing in a month, and I’ve been trying, you know, make it feel natural, never seems to,” his mouth is curved into a bemused smile as he shrugs helplessly, watching Lola tuck the half a cigarette behind her ear. For a moment, his eyes roam his face, like he’s searching for something to recognize, and she can read it all over him when he finds it, his eyes alight with familiarity, “you work at the diner!”

Lola hates how disarming she finds his earnestness. He doesn’t mention her reputation or the rumours around her, which she’s pretty sure he would have heard since she’s eighty-percent sure he goes to her school.

“Lola,” she offers her hand, and he takes it, using it as leverage to get to his feet before he gives it a proper shake.

“Keanu,” he says, matter-of-factly, still grinning, and Lola suddenly knows where she knows him from. The school musical sign-up sheet is on the Art Faculty’s notice board right outside her art classroom, and she’s been staring at his name amongst a small list of others, including Eileen’s, much to Lola’s surprise, while she and the rest of her art class wait to get into their room.

At least she’s pretty sure it’s him; Keanu’s not exactly a common name. The only other time she’d heard it was in one of her dad’s stories, it was the name of one of his childhood friends -

She leaves it be; he groans and stretches, and there’s an idle moment where his shirt rides up, and Lola reminds herself to focus on the person who actually invited her, and to stop getting fleeting feelings for people she barely knows just because they’re pretty. Lola mutters that she needs a drink, and Keanu claps her on the shoulder and agrees, the two of them heading inside.

Heather’s house is in the same part of town as Vince’s, almost an hour’s walk from the diner, but somehow Heather’s is even nicer. Sprawling front lawn, abstract paintings and movie props on little, pristine pedestals inside, Lola feels like she’s lowering the property value just by stepping foot inside. The party was easily both the nicest and most raucous Lola had ever been to, which, granted, wasn’t saying a lot, but their house was wired with speakers, all connected back to the jukebox in the living room, and Heather’s parents had even let her hire coloured lights.

“As long as the cops aren’t called, we can do whatever we want,” was the message passed around the school from Heather herself. Lola’s feels as though that probably won’t bode well for her parents’ elegantly displayed collectables, but whatever, it’s not like it’s Lola’s problem.

Already there’s a decent crowd inside, and Lola loses Keanu amongst them, making a beeline for the kitchen, manoeuvring around the house with easy familiarity. She reaches pushes past several people to get to the fridge, reaching all the way to the back, past a set of tupperware, to the bottle of wine Heather’s mom had stashed there. Lola removes the sticky note telling everyone not to touch it, and uncorks the bottle over the sink, scowling.

It feels like she’s floating through the night, no-one around that she knows just yet, disconnected from everyone else, carrying the bottle of wine by her side, occasionally taking a drink. Moving from room to room, she takes her time people watching, and guessing how long before the various, expensive props and bric-a-brac were being used for things counter to their intended purpose.

In the front room, there’s finally someone she recognises, kind of; the the young redhead, the fruit one- Peach! She’s unsteady on her feet, beautiful and angry, defiantly making her way through a can of cheap beer, and Lola wonders where the rest of her clique is, that sister of hers, Eileen, even Charlotte.

“You okay?” Lola’s never been great at comforting people, but Peach is currently leaning against a wall at a forty-five degree angle after losing her balance, and scowling. She’s drunk. Already. Fuck.

“I’m fine! Freaking- fucking great!” She’s not even looking at Lola properly, glaring out the window she’d narrowly missed falling on. Lola follows her gaze. It’s just passed nine, and Tommy and Charlotte can be seen walking up to the door; they don’t see Peach or Lola, thankfully.

“You - you’re friends with that... that mean, asshole, punk guy, right?” Peach asks, standing upright so suddenly she overbalances again, and Lola has to catch her elbow to keep her from topping. Peach slaps her hand away, but keeps her balance, obviously with a bee in her bonnet about something that Lola couldn’t even begin it fathom.

“Nikki?” Lola clarifies flatly, amused but not wanting it to show. Peach nods solemnly. Lola bites back a laugh, “yes, I’m friends with him, why?”

“Is he coming tonight?” Peach asks, tone almost forcibly coy and casual, raising her can of drink, taking large gulps as Lola says that he mentioned that he should be, and then asks why. Peach goes quiet. Lola had thought it impossible for Peach’s scowl to grow deeper, but it did, as a blush began to creep up her neck.

“You know my sister, right? Eileen?” Peach says, instead, and Lola nods slowly, and she takes a swig of wine, “she’s a year - a single goddamn year - older than me; I’m sixteen, Lola, she said I was too young to go to a party like this.” And yeah, okay, Lola makes a face at that; she was the same age as Tommy, and he’s done objectively worse stuff in front of Eileen and Charlotte with no complaints. The last house party flashes through Lola’s mind, and she grimaces - “exactly, it’s dumb! Charlie had been dating Duff for a year by the time she was my age, and let me tell you, they were proper gross!” Peach sways a little, and Lola reminds her that she has no idea who Duff is; Peach calls him a word that shocks Lola to hear her say it, especially for a girl who had to correct herself from saying freaking to fucking just moments ago.

“Noted,” Lola nods, and takes another drink; she’s almost a third through the bottle.

“I’m not a child, Lola,” Peach says, as seriously as she can muster, and, as if light a lightbulb has gone off above Lola’s head, she realises why Peach was asking after Nikki.

“You’re not,” Lola agrees slowly, and looks around, hoping to spot Charlotte or Tommy around, someone better suited to talking an angry, determined Peach out of something she’d regret.

“Don’t take that tone with me,” Peach huffed, standing to her full height, which unfortunately for Lola, made her taller by a few inches, “you know what, fuck you, Lola -”

“Peach -”

“No, fuck that, I know that tone -”

“Never thought I’d see you out at a place like this, Peach,” there’s a warm familiarity in the voice that joins them, and Peach visibly relaxes. Lola turns, and sees Vince Neil, bleach blonde, decked out in his usual, obnoxious white.

“Fuck off, Vince,” Peach mumbles, turning back to the window in an attempt to hide her sudden blush. Lola raises her eyebrows and looks to Vince, intrigued. The moment his gaze meets Lola’s, Vince turns quietly awkward, and can do little more than offer a shrug.

“Peach?” He tries again, and Peach finishes her drink, tipping her head back, and doesn’t even seem to notice that she’s started to topple back until he catches her, “fuck, Peach.” He says, still holding her.

“You really should fuck off,” Peach says, softer this time, leaning into him, and something pained flashes across Vince’s expression for the barest moment; Peach doesn’t notice in her state, but Lola sees it.

“Eileen been in your ear lately?” Vince asks through gritted teeth. Peach’s scowl back in full force, and she’s righting herself.

“No,” she snaps, an obvious lie, and she pushes past Lola, making her unsteady way to the kitchen, Vince obviously feeling some sort of obligation to her, following quickly in her wake. Thank God. Lola really didn’t want to take care of a girl she barely knows all night.

She’s two thirds of the way through the bottle of wine, feeling good and buzzed, and she’s made polite conversation with the people she knows and the people she doesn’t, the people who know her by reputation, or from the diner, polite to a fault, knowing too much and too little about her all at once.

Tommy’s roped them into a conversation with a few kids from his year that Lola doesn’t recognize any of them, and one, drunk, brunette, stupid, asks her about the rumours, in a crude, roundabout way. Tommy’s hand is firm on Lola’s shoulder, apology in his eyes as he silently pleads with her to not make a scene. Lola kicks his asshole friend in the shin anyways, and spits that he has terrible taste in friends.

Charlotte waves to her, but Lola doesn’t see it in her angry state, storming up the stairs to the second floor. It’s quieter up here, mostly. There’s a group in a side room playing spin the bottle, and people taking advantage of Heather’s parents’ bedroom, and the door to Heather’s room is closed. Lola bangs her closed fist on the nondescript door.

“Who is it?” Heather’s voice, strained, rings out from the other side.

“I’m gonna be sick,” Lola whined through a lie, banging again. There’s scuffling on the other side, Heather hissing for whoever’s with her to go, to get out the window, anything. Lola smirks, “please, all the other bathrooms are -” and she fake gags, right as the door wrenches open to show Heather’s flustered face, hair a mess, scowling.

“What?”

“I’m lying,” Lola whispered, leaning against the doorframe, pushing down all her annoyance at Tommy and his asshole friends, and playing at being coy. Heather huffs an annoyed breath through her nose.

“I know,” she snaps, but lets Lola in anyways, and Lola automatically closes the door behind herself, leaning her back against it, watching Heather try and act casual, heading to her bed, “should I be jealous?” Lola smirks, and Heather shoots her a filthy look. Lola takes a long drink of the wine, and Heather’s expression turns from angry, to simply annoyed.

“Of course, of fucking course, you, the only asshole who actually knew about it-”

“Your mom can buy another one, it’s not like you’re not -”

“Don’t say it,” Heather warns, sitting on the edge of her bed, and Lola’s smile grows sly and amused. Heather’s gaze flicks to the door handle, “lock that.”

“Yes, Princess,” Lola smirks, reaching over with her free hand, making quick work of locking the door.

“Do not,” Heather hisses at the pet name, and Lola pushes off the door, heading towards her, and offers her the bottle. Heather’s lips press into a thin line as the regards the drink she knows is completely illicit for a number of reasons, before taking it, and taking a drink - “fuck, how much of this have you had?”

In answer, Lola takes the bottle back and finishes it off.

“You’re a pig and a thief,” Heather tells her, but Lola’s smile is all teeth.

“And you kicked out someone - a boy, I’m guessing - for this thieving pig,” Lola reminds her, placing the empty bottle carefully on the nightstand of her luxurious double bed. Heather turns scarlet.

“I thought you’d at least wait until eleven to find me,” she deflects, defensive at the truth in Lola’s words, to which Lola herself actually laughs, flopping back onto the bed, arms spread, two fingers hooking into the back waistband of Heather’s flirty, short skirt.

“The fact that I’m here at all is a miracle, Princess -”

“Don’t.”

“And you know you could have told me to throw up in the garden,” Lola points out. A moment of silence follows, she tugs at Heather’s waistband, and Heather follows the unspoken prompt, leaning back onto the bed.

“Boys don’t know what they’re doing,” she says, staring up at the ceiling, arms folded but feet still planted firmly on the floor, and Lola’s eyes go wide, delighted, twisting onto her side to look at Heather’s blushing face.

“I knew you liked me,” Lola teases, grinning sharp.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Heather scoffs, angling her head back to level a glare at Lola, after a beat, she reaches back, fingers nimble and cold but her grip on Lola’s jaw secure. She frowns at Lola’s lips, rubbing her thumb none too gently over the bottom lip, taking off the black lipstick painted there, staining her own thumb in the process.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” Heather prompts, frustrated, tone icy. Lola raises her eyebrows at the blonde's impatience.

“As you command, your highness,” Lola pushes herself up on her elbows, and off the bed, smirking in the face of Heather’s annoyance, before she scrubs at her mouth with the back of her hand, getting rid of the rest of her lipstick.

“I’ll be quick so you can get back to your boytoy,” Lola smirks up at Heather, kneeling between her knees, and in the next moment Heather’s legs clamp painfully tight around her head, bony knees pressing into her temples.

“If you tell fucking anyone I did anything other than get you water while you threw up in my bathroom, I will ruin your fucking life,” she spits, and Lola’s expression contorts into one of furious annoyance as she wrenches her head free, sitting back on her heels.

“As if I’d tell anyone; if you tell anyone, I’ll burn your fucking house down, do not test me on that,” she warns in return, before Heather relaxes and lays back, eyes back on the ceiling, waiting, “fucking pillow princess, I wish you’d get me a glass of water once in a while,” Lola muttered, leaning back in.

“Hey!” Heather objects, looking down, only to see the barely concealed fury smouldering in Lola’s eyes as she looks at Heather through her lashes. Lola orders her to shut up, presses a pointed kiss to her inner thigh, and Heather obeys without any more fuss.

All it took, in the beginning, was for Lola to confront Heather and ask why the fuck she couldn’t keep her eyes to herself during class, fully expecting a fight. It was after school, Lola had followed her into the bathroom after class as the school was emptying. Heather’s lip had curled, derisive, giving Lola a look like she was a bug beneath her shoe.

“You see something you fucking like?” Lola had snarled, ready to square up, chest puffed out, and Heather had rolled her eyes, scoffing about how Lola wasn’t even close to her type, before she’d realised what she’d said.

Neither had known how to proceed in that moment, both terrified of how the other would react, Lola could see the sudden fear in Heather’s eyes at the admission. Very deliberately, Lola had relaxed her posture, looking Heather over with a new appreciation, and Heather had flushed under her gaze.

“I didn’t know it was like that,” Lola had smirked, gaze locking onto Heather’s. The blonde was embarrassed, furious at herself, “well if I ever become your type -” those seven words had changed everything. Immediately, Heather knew exactly what Lola had meant, that she wasn’t a threat in the way she’d feared, and that Lola was like her, in some way, in a way that was safe.

“You’re -?” Heather raised a single, perfect eyebrow at her.

“I don’t advertise it,” Lola said, voice flat, hands in her pockets and shoulders carefully relaxed, “don’t know, you know, who else is... like me.”

“Like you?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it here,” Lola had muttered, gaze flicking to the empty stalls, and Heather had given her a long, evaluative look, before stepping forward, apparently finding something she likes.

Heather’s kind of pinning over a straight girl and none of the rest of the school has any idea she likes anything other than boys, and she’d like to keep it that way. No-one really cares about Lola the way they do about Heather, so they feel safe fooling around together at Heather’s under the guise of ‘studying’; they don’t really even like each other as people, it’s more mutually beneficial than anything else, but it’s kind of nice to have this understanding between them, free to be themselves without fear, even if it’s only for short amounts of time.

Now, at the party, when Lola goes to leave the room after all is said and done, hair checked in the mirror, lipstick reapplied neatly, Heather grabs her arm, quiet but no longer irritate in Lola’s presence, and Lola’s eyes go wide with question, but she too is silent. Heather steels herself, steps up to Lola, and then she’s got her fingers carding through Lola’s hair, and holding tight, and Lola lets herself be maneuverer, her head tipping and Heather’s lips on her neck.

When Heather steps back, there’s the beginning of a hickey blooming on the juncture where Lola’s shoulder meets her throat, aching faintly, pleasantly, and her hands are soft on Heather’s hips, lips twitching into a smirk.

“You could have just said thank you,” Lola snorted, and Heather’s frowning, but it doesn’t seem to be specifically at Lola; she rolls her eyes. Lola presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, quick and chaste, and scrubs at the mark she leaves behind before Heather slaps her hand away and tells her to get out, though there’s no anger behind it.

When Lola opens the door, she puts on a show of being a little more unsteady than she really was, and is surprised to see Nikki leaning against the wall a few feet away, chatting to Tommy, looking so carefully casual. Lola’s pretty sure she hears Nikki sigh something about needing to find a guitarist, but that’s the moment Tommy spots Lola. He tries to apologise for his friends, but Lola shrugs, letting the incident go easily.

And then Nikki’s eyes flick to hers, and he asks if she’s okay, and Tommy seems confused but Lola’s hit with a realization. She pulls back her act and tries not to smile too wide.

“I’m fine now, great actually, it’s sweet of you to care,” its absolutely and completely innocent, but she raises an eyebrow at him, as if asking how he knows that she was unwell. In lieu of response, Nikki stands to his full height, walks to the door, and knocks. Lola and Tommy watch, the former far more confused than the latter.

Heather opens the door wide, not a hair out of place, makeup immaculate and untouched, and tells Nikki to fuck off, swanning past him and down to the rest of her party. Nikki turns on Lola.

“You couldn’t have thrown your guts up in a bush somewhere?” Nikki hissed, frustrated, and Lola does a great job at biting back her laughter, shaking her head and shrugging helplessly.

“We’re you waiting out here that whole time?” Lola asks, and Nikki turns amusingly pink, stalking past her to the stairs, to which both Lola and Tommy followed, with Lola calling out a half-hearted apology, and Nikki telling her to shove it up her ass.

gandhi said 'be the change you want to see in the world.' fuck that. be the trouble you want to see in the world.

“Don’t tell me you’re still mad about last night,” the morning after the party, or was it afternoon - midday after Heather’s party - Lola’s tying her red bandana around her head, hip leaning against the counter out the back by the fryer where Nikki was scowling at an order of fries that was bubbling away.

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, Lola,” Nikki snaps back, looking up at her, still frowning, and Lola’s smile widens, just a little. Nikki sighs, relenting, his voice dropping low, “I’m hungover as fuck, just piss off, can you?” But it doesn’t sound half as cruel as the words themselves imply, and Lola dips to press her cheek to his shoulder in a moment of affectionate familiarity before heading out to start serving customers.

It’s almost one when Charlotte and that English kid, Razzle, walk in, with the tall, pretty ginger, Eileen, sans their usual extras, but they take their spot at their usual booth by the window, talking quietly but animatedly.

“- the nerve on him! Hi, Lola,” Eileen’s practically vibrating with pent up, frustrated energy, greeting Lola with what Eileen probably assumed was a smile, but was still definitely a scowl.

“Everything alright here?” Lola asked, forcing her voice even brighter than she’d usually attempt, and Eileen’s gaze dropped to the menu, going quiet, brooding, while Charlotte sat up a little straighter and smiled, clearly not on such an intense wavelength as her friend.

“Everything’s just great; plotting Vince’s murder, kind of starving, the usual,” she shrugs, and Razzle, by her side, snorts a laugh.

“Good to see you survived the night, Honky Cat,” he adds in lieu of a greeting of his own, and Lola takes a moment to process all the information she’d just been exposed to.

“’course I did, I drank my weight in water between shots,” Lola smirks at Razzle, before her gaze slides to Charlotte, “and that’s very fair; I’d ask what he’s done now, but I think I’ll take care of your order first,” she grins amicably and pulls out her notepad and pen, as the three of them order their usual drinks and lunch preferences.

Lola heads back to the counter, calling out the order to the kitchen, taking another few order to their various destinations, before getting her friends’ drinks together to take them over.

“- home and didn’t even call, Razz, she didn’t even -” Eileen was still ranting by the time Lola deposits their drinks before them. Lola’s pretty sure she saw Razzle and Charlotte deliberately knocking knees beneath the table, but doesn’t think about it too hard. Nor does she dwell on the memory of seeing them at the party last night, of a gaggle of cheerleaders around talking to Razzle, though he just kept trying to talk to Charlotte. Later, she’d definitely seen them on the sofas, talking with Tommy and some of Charlotte’s other friends, leaning in to each other, Razzle’s arm around her shoulders, playing with the whispy ends of her hair. Lola hadn’t thought much of it at the time; she’d made out with Tommy at her first house party in the area, it hadn’t developed past friendship.

It was cute, if it was anything.

“Lola, you were there!” Eileen turned very suddenly, the moment her cup had been placed in front of her, and Lola’s eyebrows shot up, “did you see my sister last night?”

It feels like a trap, because yes, Lola definitely did, but also -

“Yes, why?” Lola asks, slowly, cocking a hip.

“They’re in the middle of a blue,” Razzle said, with a fond smile at Eileen’s carefully neutral expression, while she stirred her drink with intent.

“A fight,” Charlotte translated, “and Peach went to Heather’s last night, and got kind of shitfaced, and Vince took care of her, was really quite sweet, but she stayed with him because his place was closer and Peach refused to call Eileen.”

“She stayed with Vince?” Lola said carefully, trying not to imply she was jumping to conclusions, but Eileen’s stirring ceased in favour of vigorous drinking of the drink, obviously stuck on a similar train of thought.

“She slept on the couch,” Razzle filled in quickly, “was still there when I left, tucked in with a blanket, all above board.”

“And you didn’t know where she was -?” Lola frowns, confused.

“Vince called at three in the morning,” Eileen glowered out the window, voice low and even, “dad was mad until he was grateful; the man’s backbone is made of marshmallow fluff. She was meant to be home at one.”

“But she’s okay?”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Lola,” Eileen had said, giving Lola a look far older and longsuffering than her seventeen years.

“If we brought in Vince’s heart, would your dad batter it up and fry it for Eileen to eat?” Charlotte asked, tone teasing and light, to which Eileen rolled her eyes, but at least it got her to smile, even a little. Even when Lola snorted a laugh and told her ‘absolutely not’.

Later, on their break, Lola and Nikki sit on the roof of the building and share a serve of chips that he’d overcooked, and a cigarette, and Lola asks about Vince. Turns out Nikki doesn’t know much; he hadn’t grown up with the rest of them, had moved to the neighbourhood near the start of high school, and all he really knows is that girls apparently think Vince’s dick developed some sort of Midas touch over Summer.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s always been stupid pretty,” Nikki shoves a chip in his mouth before leaning back on his elbows, “far as I know, but you’ve seen his car, right? That fuck-off, expensive red one that sits in the teacher’s carpark, with the massive scratch in the paint along the left? Yeah that’s his; got it for his birthday last year and he’s been getting tail like nobody’s business ever since.” And Lola tries to process all this information before he’s barrelling right on ahead with, “speaking of; if you’re gonna nail Tommy, can you do it soon and put the poor kid out of his misery?”

“Excuse me?!” Lola had choked on her lungful of smoke, turning red at the suggestion.

“Yeah, poor kid was pretty convinced we were a thing and didn’t want to make a move; kinda stupid, but I dunno, admirable? Noble?” Nikki groaned through his words, laying back against the gravel of the roof, hand out for the cigarette. Lola passed it to him, glad he couldn’t see her vaguely guilty expression, knowing she’d slept with the girl he’d been hitting on the night before.

“Tommy has a thing for anything halfway pretty that’s not related to him, he’d be just as happy to boink any other girl,” Lola points out, and Nikki snorts a laugh in mild agreement, “and the only reason we’re not fucking is because you’re afraid my dad’s gonna rip of your arms like he’s the fucking Wampa from Star Wars.” She punctuates it by eating the last chip, laying out beside Nikki on the gravel, checking her watch. Five minutes before their break ends.

“Leo wouldn’t rip off my arms- I don’t think Leo would rip off my arms!” Nikki counters defensively, but that just has Lola laughing as she corrects -

“Sorry, no, your exact wording was ‘I don’t want your dad to Kali Ma my fucking heart like I’m that little bastard from Indiana Jones’,” Lola does an absolutely atrocious impersonation of Nikki, who’s laughing despite himself, “which you only took back because I told you he wasn’t Indian, and even if he was, it’s kind of a fucked thing to say,” Lola tells him pointedly, shifting onto her side, propping her head up on her hand as she smirked at Nikki.

When Nikki looks at her, green eyes shining in the overcast, afternoon light, there’s something unreadable, teasing and soft all at once, like he’s entertaining an idea he’d considered unthinkable.

“I don’t think I could look Leo in the eye if I banged his daughter,” Nikki’s voice is soft and low, though he’s grinning wide, tone coy, eyes creasing in the corners, and Lola’s gaze flicks to his lips.

“For Leo’s sake, then,” Lola matches his tone, corner of her mouth twitching into a sharp smirk when she finally looks back to his eyes, “and Tommy’s too,” she teases, pushing herself into a sitting position; she can hear it when he presses his head further into the gravel in exasperation, swearing under his breath. When Lola stands and smiles, the picture of innocence, she offers Nikki her hand to help him up; Nikki rolls his eyes, but is still smiling when he accepts.

“Your hair looks dorky like that,” Lola teases as she climbs down the fire escape.

“I know,” Nikki sighs, “but its better than getting hair in everyone’s food; I’m not gonna be the reason your dad fails a health inspection,” Nikki adds, a strange hint of protectiveness in his voice that warms Lola’s heart in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

“Don’t worry, Leo’s never failed a health inspection, he doesn’t intend to start any time soon.”

love is a dream someone else had last night.

Eileen and Razzle see fit to join their ragtag bunch of misfits at lunch the following Monday by the open gate and the science carpark, which Lola had been informed was the teachers’ carpark.

Lola doesn’t care who sits with them, except for the fact that she’d taken the leftover lemon merengue tart from the diner since it was being replaced with an apple crumble, and there was only enough for four. For the past week, Eileen’s been alternating sitting with them and sitting elsewhere, but she hadn’t been here last Monday, so Lola had assumed - anyways, now she’s worried she looks like a bitch, and not for an actual reasonable reason.

“What do you mean you almost got with Heather on Friday?!” Charlotte’s voice was somewhere between a horrified and disbelieving squeak where she was picking at the crust of the piece of tart she was sharing with Eileen. The lemon merengue debacle turned out to not be much of an issue, with Charlotte and Eileen sharing, and Tommy and Lola sharing too. Lola was incredibly focused on picking at a scab through the hole in the knee of her jeans.

“I mean I had my hand in her fucking panties when someone -” Nikki cast a very pointed look to Lola, “knocked on the door threatening to throw up, and I got shoved out a window,” Nikki played up being irritated, despite the fact that he was laying out on his side directly behind Lola, while she was leaning into him.

“You’re my hero,” Eileen told Lola, serious as ever, while Charlotte cackled with delight, and Razzle snickered from where he was touching up the left hand of Tommy’s sharpie-nails.

“You guys are a bunch of assholes,” Nikki huffed, shoving the remained or his own piece of tart into his mouth.

“I brought you food, show some fuckin’ respect,” Lola smirked despite herself, gently elbowing him in the ribs; he flicks her knee in retaliation.

“Absolutely not; you’re a cockblocking traitor and the worst friend I’ve got,” Nikki announced, nose in the air, and Lola leans all her weight back suddenly, tipping Nikki onto his back and laying heavy across his stomach as she demanded he take it back, the two of them getting into a petty squabbling match, shoving at each other while the others could only look on in exasperated amusement.

“I thought Heather had a boyfriend,” Eileen pipes up, to which Charlotte makes a a gentle ‘eh’ noise in the back of her throat.

“She’s getting laid,” Charlotte corrects with half a smirk, and everyone who was paying half attention understand easily. Tommy sighs, but it’s not nearly as dejected as he’s known for whenever the topic of girls he fancies being with other people comes up.

“Whatever, I got to second base with Pam that night, and no-one can take that away from me,” Tommy announces, watching Razzle finish off his pinkie.

“Good for you, man,” Razzle says, with his trademark sincerity. Eileen and Charlotte still can’t believe it happened, but unfortunately both Razzle and Vince had seen with their own two eyes and been able to confirm; Vince may be biased, but Charlotte trusted Razzle.

“Everyone got some fuckin’ action that night except for me,” Nikki whines, finally shoving himself off, “and the fuckin’ Vomit Comet over here,” he jerked his thumb to where Lola was righting herself; Lola flips him off in response.

“I didn’t,” Eileen points out.

“You weren’t there,” Nikki rolls his eyes, “you don’t count.”

Meanwhile Razzle and Charlotte had both gone very quiet, and very pink. However Lola, who had no patience for people trying to hide their somewhere-between-pining-and-sincere feelings from each other and from other people, instead turns her attention to Eileen as she’s sweeping her hair out of her face.

“Have things gotten any better with Peach?” She tried, tone hopeful, and Eileen’s expression barely changed, just the barest crease of a frown upon her forehead, though judging by the way Charlotte’s whole expression soured, things had not, in fact, gotten better.

“Came back on Saturday afternoon all sunny and smiley and mom was thrilled,” Eileen’s deadpan irritation really sold her exasperation at the whole situation, “that she was friends with Vince again, and she hasn’t said a word to me yet.” Eileen takes a deep breath, straightening up from where she’d been slouched without realizing, taking a deep breath, nose in the air as if rising above it all, “which is fine with me, because I have a ton of dialogue to learn and they want us off-book in a month.”

This only sets them off fondly teasing the ever-unflappable Eileen, for her seemingly out of character choice to join the school’s musical, though they were all very proud of the fact that she scored the lead, even Nikki had voiced that he thought it was pretty cool.

When Lola had asked about it, Eileen had made mention that it filled in a lot of free time, that it was something she could add to college applications, and that a friend had convinced her to do it; Keanu -

“I keep hearing that name around,” Lola muses, leaning back in her seat while they were waiting for their French teacher to arrive. Eileen raises her eyebrows, “is that the pretty, dark haired Senior?” Eileen, surprisingly, had flushed scarlet when nodding. Lola hummed thoughtfully, leaning back further until the front legs of her chair lifted from the ground; she hooked her feet around the legs of her desk as she contemplated.

“It’s a musical right?” Lola asked, and Eileen hummed in confirmation, “if you can sing, you know Nikki and Tommy are -”

“I’d rather eat an entire microphone,” Eileen responds flatly, already knowing what Lola was about to suggest before she’d even finished her sentence, and Lola really tries not to laugh, but she knows Eileen well enough by now that that response makes entirely too much sense.

“You make a fair -” and that’s when Lola’s grip on the table slips, her feet sliding quickly up the legs of the desk as she topples backwards, the momentum pulling the desk up with her legs and directly on top of her, winding her. At least it made Eileen laugh, mostly from shock, sure, but Lola counts it as a win.

#motley crue #nikki sixx #tommy lee #vince neil #the dirt #the dirt fanfiction #motley crue fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc #Razzle Dingley #lola&charlotte #charlotte & lola #the pack

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luca-moreno · 3 years

Note

♠

♠: adjusting their jewelry/neck tie/ etc.

“Look, Moreno,” Ethan says, straightening the odd bit of silky material around Luca’s neck. It was some traditional human garb, something from Earth that Ethan Sinclair was particularly fond of. It was pretty, Luca conceded, if you liked that sort of thing. “If you’re going to be stepping out with us, then you have to look the part.”

“I dunno,” Luca squirmed under the attention. He felt exposed where Ethan had rubbed something gooey into his hair and smoothed it back from his face. Okay, so it wasn’t exactly a social outing. It was a mission. They were going to fleece back some credits, and maybe some handy intel on the final few Cerberus holdouts too. It sounded a little sketchy but when Sabre and Huntsman had told him to spruce up and ship out, Luca’s curiosity was too much to let him protest. “Tying a noose around my neck seems kinda like a dumb thing to do.”

Ethan’s hands fell away and Luca breathed out a sigh of relief. “We can find someone else if you’re not up for the job, kid.”

Luca scowled at the phoenix, offended. “What are you talking about? I’m the best person for this job. There’s a reason I’m banned from every single casino on the Citadel.”

Ethan’s eyebrow lifted. “Every single one?”

Luca smirked. “Yep. Even a few on Nos Astra too.”

#ethan sinclair #luca moreno #ok but now i want a covert op where luca works with mase and ethan as their hacker bye

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myherowritings · 5 years

Text

The Language of Flowers

— “Hello may I request a Bakuogu x reader imagine, where […] Bakugou has a huge crush on her. She has a nature quirk and always gives him flowers (which he tuts at but acc loves lol) and one day they’re hanging out and she makes him a daisy chain and then a super cute confession happens? Thank you very much~” by anonymous.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader word count: 3.1k warnings: swearing, cheesy flower symbolism

a/n: AH ANON THIS WAS A SUPER CUTE REQUEST i didn’t add in the kiri’s sister part bc i just couldn’t figure out how but i hope you still enjoy!! ;c

“What flowers did Y/L/N bring you today?”

“Don’t know or care.”

Kaminari snorted and Kirishima laughed disbelievingly from his seat against the foot of the bed. The three were in Bakugou’s room on a Friday night after class, and for the entirety of their walk to the dorms, he wouldn’t stop muttering curse words under his breath with the bouquet of flowers you made for him clutched between his hands.

“Right, you don’t care…” drawled Denki. “Which is why you’re putting the flowers she gave you in a vase right next to your bed?”

“Well, what the fuck else am I supposed to do with them?” he fumed, gently arranging the bundles of lilacs despite the deep scowl etched onto his face.

“I don’t know. Maybe toss them on your desk and call it a day? They’d wither up eventually, but you know Y/L/N could just produce some more to replace them.”

Bakugou glared at his dumbass of a friend. Toss them on his desk? Didn’t he know how cluttered and disorganized that would look? (Or how Katsuki would rather chew through glass than place the flowers you gave him in anything less than a clean vase? Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone…)

“I just put them in a stupid jar I found lying around– It’s not that deep, dumbass,” he scoffed.

Kaminari raised a brow as a cocky little grin formed on his face. “Sure.”

“Hey!” Kirishima popped in before Bakugou could send Sparky flying off the edge of his bed. “No matter the reason, I think it’s cool you keep Y/L/N’s flowers.”

Bakugou narrowed his eyes dubiously.

“You do?” voiced Denki.

He nodded. “It’s kind of manly when you think about it. Bakugou keeping the bouquets and learning the meanings of each flower just for Y/N–”

“I don’t learn their fucking meanings, dumbass!”

“Is that right?” Eijirou asked challengingly. “What do peonies stand for?”

Katsuki made an indignant noise. “Hell if I know.”

Kaminari raised his hand with an excited look. “I know! I know! It represents how much she wants you to smash the living daylights–”

“Watch your fucking mouth!” he hissed, hurling a pencil at him with full force, only for it to be stopped in the nick of time by Shitty Hair’s quirk. Bakugou glowered. “I’ve already told you before peonies symbolize a bashful yet compassionate love. Or can your two and a half brain cells not recall?”

His two friends–if they should even have the privilege of being called that–exchanged glances that made Bakugou want to kick them both out of his dorm room. Who the fuck let them come over in the first place?

A grin spread on Eijirou’s face, showing off his sharp teeth. “So she gave you the peonies to tell you she loves you but is too shy to say so herself?”

Katsuki’s face burned. “No! What the hell–?”

“Or maybe she’s saying she knows you love her but you’re too much of a pussy to say anything?” suggested Denki.

“First of all, fuck you. And that’s not it either, you dumbass!”

“Then what else could it mean?” he asked.

“That she liked peonies?” cried Bakugou incredulously. “Why are you asking me?! How should I know?”

Katsuki kept his fists clenched by his sides, seconds away from completely losing his temper at the two idiots in front of him.

Kirishima raised a brow. “You’re telling me you don’t care at all about the flowers Y/L/N gives you.”

“Yeah, pretty much,” he lied through his teeth. He hated how he felt an uncomfortable pang in his heart as he said those words.

What the fuck was that? he thought, glaring down at his chest.

“Interesting,” Kirishima mused. “So, if I were to unlock your phone, I wouldn’t find tabs of ‘flower symbolism’ open on your browser?”

Kaminari grinned, looking over at the vase of purple flowers. “He probably searched up ‘the meaning of lavender’ and is currently reading through ten different flower blogs.”

Bakugou’s left eye twitched. “Lilacs.”

“What?”

“They’re lilacs you dumbass! Not lavender. Can’t you tell by the color?”

Denki blinked. “No?”

“Tch. Stupid,” he grumbled, rubbing a petal of the flower between his thumb and forefinger.

Lavender represented serenity and calmness– Dumb shit he didn’t care about. But lilacs were a different story.

Lilacs, specifically the light purple ones you gave him, symbolized first love. Love, happiness, passion… All those things reminded him of you. It was a thought so gentle it brought a strange feeling to his stomach, but he couldn’t say he hated it.

Bakugou stiffened. What the fuck was he thinking?

Shaking his head fervently, he forced himself out of his thoughts and turned to his two bumbling friends.

“…what do you think, Bakugou?” he heard Eijirou ask.

He scratched the back of his neck. “Think about what?”

Kirishima glanced at him curiously, noticing the uncharacteristic way Bakugou has been spacing out recently. “I said me, Kaminari, and Sero are going to the comic store tomorrow. You should join us.”

Katsuki internally cursed, knowing what he was about to say would bring along teasing that came with no end.

“I would,” he said carefully, “but I already have plans.”

“Oh, are you going home this weekend?” piped Denki.

“No.”

“Hero training?” asked Eijirou.

“No.”

“Are you banned from leaving campus grounds again–?”

“No!” Bakugou growled, rubbing his temples in slow circles. “For fuck’s safe, you two make my head hurt. I can’t go because I already made plans with someone else.”

Dumbass Number One gave him a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows. “Someone else, huh?”

“And who is this someone else?” the blond-haired Dumbass Number Two questioned.

Kirishima nudged him with his elbow, causing Kaminari to nudge him back until the two were on the verge of wrestling on the floor of Bakugou’s dorm room.

Bakugou could only look back and forth between them and sigh. Dumbasses.

“He obviously means Y/L/N,” Eijirou said in a matter-of-fact tone, giving Katsuki a thumbs up. Katsuki responded with an eye roll. “He just didn’t want to say it because he likes to pretend his enormous crush on her isn’t obvious.”

“I don’t have a crush on Y/L/N,” he protested, folding his arms across his chest defensively.

“Right, and who exactly are you hanging out with tomorrow?” asked Denki.

“Listen– Just because I agreed to hang out with her doesn’t mean I like her!”

Kirishima hummed. “Sure. Have fun on your date tomorrow.”

Katsuki fumed. “It’s not a date!”

“Yeah, but you wish it were.”

With a final twitch of his eye and clenching of his jaw, Bakugou marched over to their seats on his floor, fingers flexing as the sweat that popped off his skin mad a sound so menacing his two idiot friends exchanged nervous glances with a visible swallow.

Laughing nervously, Denki shoved Eijirou in front of him for more time and made a dash towards the door.

“Have fun on your date!” Kirishima called, whacking Kaminari in the back of the head as he ran frantically away from a seething Katsuki.

“Use protection!” Denki warned, tripping over the carpet as he rubbed his sore neck, struggling to scurry away before Bakugou could lay hands on him. “Lots of protection!”

“I’LL MURDER YOU. BOTH OF YOU.”

- - - - -

In the end, Bakugou didn’t murder anyone.

If he had, Aizawa probably wouldn’t have let him leave campus grounds and he would’ve missed his not-date with you. (Not that he cared if he saw you or not. He just figured slaughtering the two idiots wouldn’t be worth a week of cleaning duty.)

“Thanks for coming with me, Bakugou-kun,” you thanked once more, picnic basket swinging in hand as you walked beside him.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s not like I had anything better to do.”

Just stop fucking talking, you asshole, he scolded, wanting to punch himself in the face.

But his words didn’t seem to phase you in the slightest. You were well aware of his blunt, harsh persona and yet you chose to stick around him anyway.

You laughed, brushing off his dismissive remark with a sideways smiles he couldn’t look away from. “Well, I’m glad you had nothing better to do then.”

“Pfft.”

By the time the two of you arrived at the nearby park, the sun was resting lazily atop the clouds, rays shining through as you found a spot in the shade for the picnic blanket. You finished setting up the food before getting comfortable, offering Bakugou a sandwich as he took a seat next to you.

“Thanks,” he said, awkwardly taking a bite as he tried to think of what to say.

“No problem,” you replied, clearing your throat as the silence settled between you. “Did you like the flowers I gave you yesterday? They’re one of my favorites!”

Bakugou snorted. “You say that about every flower.”

“Because every flower deserves to be loved!”

Although he scoffed externally, on the inside he couldn’t help but feel a begrudging flutter at your words. It just wasn’t possible for someone to have such a kind heart– There must’ve been some catch.

“The lilacs were fine. Thanks,” he mumbled under his breath, uprooting a strand of grass as he rested his palms behind him.

He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous. Katsuki had hung around you plenty of times, but something about this moment sent his nerves on edge.

You beamed, a smile so bright it was capable of disarming all his defenses. “I’m happy you liked them! And you knew they were lilacs? I’m impressed. Most people would mistake them for lavender.”

Bakugou thought back to his certified dumb blond friend and scoffed at the memory. “Tch. Only idiots would mistake a pale purple lilac for lavender.”

With a teasing giggle at the somber frown on his face, you nodded. “Right. It definitely didn’t take me months to learn the difference, or anything.” You nudged his shoulder with your own at the sight of his wide-eyed expression. “Maybe you’re just a natural-born flower expert.”

He bristled. “Don’t call me that.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that,” you protested, folding your arms across your chest at his indignant tone. “I think it’s cool. Besides, flowers are amazing!”

“They’re whatever.”

Katsuki shrugged dismissively as he tried to ignore the knowing look on your face.

“Come on, Bakugou-kun. It’s me,” you said, poking his arm with your index finger. (If it were anyone else, he would’ve shoved them off. But since it was you… He sighed.) “You can admit that you like flowers. I won’t judge.”

“Hmph.”

You pouted, lip jutting out in a small frown. “At least tell me what your favorite flower is.”

He thought about it for a while. “I don’t have one.”

“You have to have one!”

“Don’t you have like 50 because you can’t choose just one?!” asked Bakugou incredulously.

“Yes, but… I have one flower that I love slightly more than the rest,” you said conspiratorially, tapping the bottom of your chin.

Crawling over to the edge of the picnic blanket, you held your hands about the fertile soil and sprouted bundles of white-petaled flowers with yellow centers.

“Daisies?” he guessed.

You nodded in excitement. “Yes! See, I told you– Flower expert!”

Katsuki fought the blush off his cheeks. “It’s just common knowledge.”

It most definitely was not because he spent hours researching all the different types of flowers after the first week of you constantly giving them to him.

“Sure.” You grinned. “I love daisies for a lot of reasons, but one of the reasons is because they make the prettiest flower chains.”

His brows furrowed. “Flower chain?”

You turned towards him with a disbelieving look on your face. “You’ve never made a flower chain?”

“Never even heard of it.”

Your eyes looked as if they were about to bulge out of their sockets as your held your hand above your chest. “My… My heart is hurting.”

Bakugou dismissed your over-exaggeration with a tsk, but felt the corners of his lips quirking upwards nonetheless. Glancing down at the cluster of white daisies you had just sprouted, you took one between your thumb and index finger and pinched it at the stem.

“Can I show you how?” you asked with a hopeful expression.

He blinked in surprise but managed a shrug. “I guess.”

“Great!” you cheered. You beckoned him over to the spot beside you as you kneeled against the soft bed of grass. Gently plucking a bundle of flowers you had just sprouted, you handed them to him. “There are lots of different ways to make a daisy chain, but I think the braiding method is the best.”

Bakugou wasn’t sure how the fuck there could’ve been different methods for sticking flowers together, but he nodded despite himself. “You can show me that one then.”

Moving closer next to him, you held three daisies in one hand and showed him how to braid–one strand over the other. As you went down the stem, you slowly added more and more flowers to the chain, twisting as it began to curve into a circle.

“Am I doing this right?” he asked gruffly, looking between your chain and his with a slight frown. His was sparse with some areas looking like they were about to fall apart.

Taking in the condition of his flowers, you stifled a laugh. “Looks fine to me.”

“Hmph.”

After a few minutes of grumbles and complaints, Bakugou slowly got the hang of making the daisy chain. In a way, the repetitive movements were sort of relaxing.

You were seated beside him, so close your thigh was brushing against his and he struggled to remain focused on the task at hand.

“Did you know daisies are actually a mix of two flowers?” you said, drawing his attention even more towards you. “The yellow centers are disc florets and the white petals are ray florets.”

He peered closer at the head of the flower in between his fingers, examining the small floral discs that made up the yellow center.

“That’s why, in flower language, white daisies are known to symbolize true love,” you told him. Katsuki looked over at you to find a small smile on your face as you finished up the last of your daisy chain. “It’s the joining together of two different types of flowers, and they fit perfectly. One wouldn’t be the same without the other.”

Your gaze flitted to his as a flush filled his cheeks at your intimate words, and for once in his life, he was at a complete loss for words.

There was a slight twinkle in your eye as you stared with your lips slightly parted. The tension in the air grew when neither of you wanted to look away first in fear of ruining this moment. The setting of the sun cast gentle shadows of your eyelashes and cheekbones and Katsuki was completely annoyed but how disarming your smile in the sunset was.

Clearing his throat, he glared down at the floor as you bit your lip, toying with the petals of the daisy in your lap.

“Ahem– Um, well…” you trailed off, opening and shutting your mouth as you tried to form your thoughts into a sentence. “I made this for you!”

Fumbling with the daisy chain in your hands, you extended your arms out, offering the flower crown to him with your head bowed. His eyes widened in alarm as you waited for him to take the gift.

“W-What are you doing, baka?! You don’t need to bow!” he cried, an intense blush making its way to his cheeks as you peered up at him through your lashes.

“But I wanted to give this to you.”

“You don’t have to give it like that!”

You huffed, puffing your cheeks out in an embarrassed pout. “Do you not want it?”

“I never said that–! But even if I did, it’s not like it never stopped you before,” Katsuki said defensively, muttering an oath under his breath when he felt even the tips of his ears heat up at your actions.

Fighting the flushed expression off your face, you chewed the inside of your cheek. You withdrew your extended arms, hugging the daisies close to your chest as you absentmindedly stroked a white petal.

“Do you want me to stop?” you blurted, your voice quiet.

He looked taken aback. “What?”

You avoided his questioning stare as you continued, “I like giving you all these flowers because the look on your face for the fraction of a second you let your guard down is something I always want to see–” Katsuki’s palms grew sweaty as he felt his temperature rise to inhuman heights. “But, if it annoys you and you want me to stop… I will.”

Bakugou glared down at his lap, unsure where the hell your thought came from or how the fuck he should reply. He didn’t want you to stop– He thought that much was clear.

“Tch.” He shook his head, mumbling under his breath. “Baka.”

You blinked. “I’m sorry?”

He looked up at you, meeting your confused gaze with his intense one. “If you were annoying me, I would’ve told you. I don’t– I don’t mind you giving me all these…dumb flowers.”

Tilting your head to the side, you asked cautiously, “So you like them?”

The most Katsuki could bring himself to do was shrug, but it was enough for you to understand the true meaning he couldn’t bring himself to admit. Slowly, a grin lit up your face as you nudged his side.

“Well, good. Because they like you, too.”

The smile you gave him made it clear there was something more behind your words as well. He glared, flustered. “We’re talking about the stupid flowers, right?”

“Of course,” you said with an all too innocent nod. “What else could we be talking about?”

The two of you shared a knowing smile before he rolled his eyes, taking the daisy chain in your hands and placing them on his head. It felt weird and awkward, but he figured he could put up with it for you. As you stared at him, a weird expression dawn on your face that made him frown in embarrassment.

“What are you looking at, baka?”

You hid the secretive smirk on your face behind your hands. “You. You look cute in that.”

“Yeah… Whatever,” he scoffed, despite the warmth spread in his chest.

And by the time the not-date came to an end, Katsuki wasn’t sure how the two of you ended up walking back to the dorms, smiling dazedly as you walked hand-in-hand. All he knew was, one day, he wanted to be the one to bring you flowers.

a/n: okay honestly i just want bakugou to fall in love so we can see this tsundere but also soft and sweet side of him ahhh i would die. anyway, this was very cheesy hehe but i hope it made you smile! xx sofia

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dreamnants · 4 years

Text

(I wanted to say thanks for the folks who’ve been taking an interest in my dumb swap AU and helping me develop it more especially with Zuke!

For some reason, I forgot to mention my AU’s name is Chiaroscuro Reflections.

As a small thank you, I decided to sit down and try actually writing something set in the AU. This is my take on what happens after the auditions and leading into the DJSS. There are things I want to improve on, but if I don’t post it, I probably never will.

Hope you enjoy~)

"It was rigged, I tell you!"

"May, I was hoping we could discuss the audition after our meal?"

"But you agree with me, Nadia! It was complete bulldozer! BULLDOZER!" Mayday protested, ignoring the looks their table was getting from the few other customers from how loud Mayday was.

Nadia only sighed as she carefully cut another bite-sized piece of her half finished burger.

"Indeed I do, but..." Nadia waved her knife in Mayday's general direction."I wanted to enjoy a meal not being reminded what transpired an hour ago?"

"Yeah, yeah, but it just...NRGH!" With that, Mayday took a sip of her strawberry milkshake in a vain attempt to quell her frustration. At least it was soothing to her throat from her yelling.

As if knowing Mayday wasn't going to shut up about their disastrous audition result, Nadia shook her head and carefully put down her plastic cutlery to non-verbally show she was paying attention.

"Well, if I must say something to make you feel better, I heavily disagree with Tatiana's opinion about you having no future in show business. You are one of the most passionate artists I've ever met. Sure...I did call you pedestrian at one point, but...I have long changed my opinion on that."

Mayday managed to crack a small smile at that. "Awww, thanks, buddy."

Nadia rolled her eyes playfully as Mayday finished off her milkshake with a loud slurp.

"Come to think of it, have we taken a look at the footage of our audition?" The older woman pursed her lips slightly, a bit of her contained irritation slipping out before it returned to a neutral one. "Even if it is associated with a bitter memory, it still is our first appearance on television."

Mayday perked up in realization."Oh shoot! You're right. I think they might have uploaded it on the internet by now..." Mayday put down the empty cup to pull out her phone. After a few moment of scrolling around, Mayday smiled as she found the footage."And...here it is!"

Mayday lifted her arm with the phone up while Nadia carefully moved the tray to the side so she could lean her upper body to look at the small screen.

"Okay, so it was still unfair we got rejected, but man, at least they got some really good shots of us!"

"Indeed."

The good mood between them quickly faded when the shot changed angles to feature them from the front, giving them a good view of behind them. There, the Qwasa meter filled as they performed until the meter stopped at just below full capacity.

Both band mates stared, pausing the video at the blinking red light.

"Wait, what?!"

"That..."

"Nadia! We filled the Qwasa to almost full capacity!"

"Come to think of it, it was strange they did not tell us how well we powered the Qwasa before they gave us their judgement..."

"This was totally rigged! How could they scrap us when we outperformed all the other contestants!?"

"I cannot believe they got away with such...ignorance," The understatement of the words laced in Nadia's usually elegant tone was forced, as if she was trying hard to not let her anger slip."But what point would they have to reject us?"

As if the universe was conspiring against the two, a familiar voice caught their attention.

"People of Vinyl City, this is Tatiana.”

Through the speakers littering the city, the words echoed throughout that both could hear them from inside.”

"In light of the recent abysmal performance of a certain duo that we all had the unfortunate pleasure of having to sit through, I would like to announce that rock music is hereby banned from future Lights Up auditions."

The words cut through Mayday like a knife. She wasn’t sure what Nadia was thinking

"For a better prospect at winning, we suggest that you stick to what works: EDM."

"Remember, we strive through...ORDER. Order leads to progress in Vinyl City."

"That is all, have a pleasant evening."

The ordinary closing words contrasted the magnitude of Tatiana's decree, seeming as Tatiana was closing a traffic report, not banning an entire music genre.

Tatiana had just banned rock from Vinyl City.

As it dawned on Mayday on what exactly this meant in the light of their unanimous rejection, and the anger began to swell once the numb shock wore off, her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of something crumpling, followed by a splashing sound soon accompanied by a cold jolt on her neck. She turned to the source of the noise to discover it came from her band mate crushing the water cup in her hand. The twisted vessel of hollow paper and Nadia's right hand was dripping wet from the contents erupting from her death grip, but Nadia didn't seem to notice or even care she'd splashed water over their table and herself.

Her green eyes were glowing with burning fury that made them glow even in the cheap lighting of the burger joint, her lips twisted into a sneer that bared her teeth. Even though Mayday was not the target of her ire, she wouldn't deny being unnerved by the sight. This wasn't her first time being exposed to Nadia's unbridled anger, but it always caught her off guard when it happened.

As if the floodgates had opened and her true frustration finally exposed through the cracks, the best way to describe such a sight was Nadia simply erupted.

"THOSE....THOSE...PEDESTRIANS!" Yelling in a volume contrasting her usual calm and elegant one, she slammed the fist still gripping the unfortunate victim of her angry clenching on the table, causing the guitarist to jolt up in surprise and the tray to bounce slightly. "They had the gall to reject us under clear bias," Another pound on the table, catching the attention of the establishment. "...and NOW they decide to ban an entire genre of music on a whim based on their belief we played horribly?!" Nadia finally let go of the crushed cup, now twisted horribly into a shape that reminded Mayday of a banana. "They either are blind, deaf, or perhaps both to claim WE offended people with our music! If anything, THEY were the only ones offended by us wanting to play a supposedly outdated genre!"

Finally remembering she was also supposed to be angry, Mayday exploded herself. "I know?! Can you believe it?! We need to do something!"

"What do you propose we do about this then? Because I certainly have some suggestions if you do not!" Her mouth was still in a scowl, her eyes still burning, face contorted with anger barely contained.

"I don't know right now, but I know there's always something you can-"

And for the second time tonight, Mayday's train of thought was promptly interrupted, this time by the lights suddenly flickering before completely shrouding the entire joint in darkness. From a quick look outside from their window, it was the same for the rest of Vinyl City.

"Mayday, do you sometimes wonder if the universe conspires against someone?"

"Maybe."

A minute later, the corner of Mayday's eye caught a sign outside flickering back to life. The NSR logo displaying among the relative darkness still covering the city. In fact, on closer look, the lights on in the darkness were all the NSR store signs.

"This..this can't right..." Mayday heard Nadia's voice, disbelief with a tint of indignation lingering in her words. "Are you saying...that NSR only supplies the backup power to their artists?"

Mayday only stared, a voice in her head screaming in anger. For the audition. The banning of rock. And now the blackout?

"May?"

Jolting to her feet, Mayday grabbed her guitar and slung it over her shoulder as she rushed outside. She vaguely registered Nadia calling out to her, but she wasn't listening, scrambling through the darkened Vinyl City.

The only other noise she eventually registered was the sound of Nadia's footsteps chasing after her.

#no straight roads #nsr #nsr swap au #chiaroscuro reflections

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

TLTNL- EDUCATIONAL DECREE NUMBER TWENTY-FOUR

Harry felt as if it had been ages that he'd taken the book so lightheartedly. His godfather still weighed heavily on his mind, he could not erase the fear that their last argument wasn't going to be the end of things and Harry still worried deeply for the end results of that, but finally something was going right in school! He couldn't wait to learn what all became of that!

Harry was happier the rest of that weekend than he had been all term. He still had some pretty late hours with all his homework, but the sunshine prevailed and they spent it out under the shade of some trees instead which made the work more bearable. Hermione, who of course was up to date on her work,

Sirius chuckled as he told Harry, "you manage to say that with such perfect exasperation."

"It never fails to boggle the mind," Harry grinned.

"Well compared to her third year, I imagine even seventh won't feel as bad as taking all the classes at once," Lily shrugged.

brought knitting needles and more wool to knit themselves while she happily edited their work.

The idea of now actively doing something to resist Umbridge and the Ministry was finally giving Harry the satisfaction he'd been needing.

"Is that all you needed?" James grinned in relief his son was finally starting to sound and clearly feel more normal again. "Didn't the Order help with that?"

"I wasn't actually doing anything of use on that front," Harry shrugged, "knowing someone's out there helping and my actually helping are two very different things for me."

No one argued that point, they all felt the same.

He kept reliving the moment where he realized all those people had been there because they believed him, respected him, their looks when Cho had praised his accomplishments about the Tournament.

"Which bit was your favorite part again?" Sirius smirked, to which Harry ignored him.

That so many people didn't find him a weirdo still left him smiling Monday morning, despite the prospect of all his least favorite classes.

"I still want to see someone hung for that, it truly sounds like yet more torture for you this year," Remus said in disgust.

He and Ron came down the stairs, but were distracted from leaving the common room by a very large sign covering up the normal flyers on the board, including the school rules Filch kept up to date, Quidditch practices, who would trade what Chocolate Cards, lost and found, dates of Hogsmeade visits, and the Weasley's advertisement.

"They're still hanging those up! I thought Hermione would have a cow on them if she saw?" Lily yelped in concern for the twins health.

"This one wasn't nearly so big or as flamboyant," Harry shrugged, "she may not have even noticed it a second time." It was truly depressing that the second Harry had locked in on this new thing, his face had gone right back to that unhappy, sour look he'd carried through most of this book.

Instead in great big unable to miss letters was the notice of Educational Decree Number twenty-four, signed by the High Inquisitor. All organizations, societies, teams, groups, or clubs were hereby banned unless approved by the High Inquisitor. This consisted of a group of more than three people. Any students found in any of the above without permission by the High Inquisitor would be expelled.

Harry looked up, surprised no one had interrupted him during that to state their disgust, and found four stunned stupid faces. James even had his mouth hanging open in shock.

"That is the most ridiculous thing, I have ever heard, in my life," Remus struggled to even get this out.

"Are you kidding me!" Lily screeched in outrage. "You must be absolutely joking. Of all the stupid, I mean she didn't really, no one could have let her-"

"But Quidditch!" James and Sirius broke in with unison disgust.

"Priorities men," Remus scowled at them, "how about, even we couldn't have hung out at school! Group's of three or more, bloody hell, just walking down the corridor is banned in that stupidity!"

"Would you lot focus," Lily snapped. "I can't imagine how this was passed, she is literally just putting up laws now that fit her own need, how on Earth is this being passed! I am absolutely disgusted anyone could be part of this."

"I think you're all missing the big picture," Harry kept scowling at nothing, "which is, how did she know?"

That did catch them off their own problem, as each ran through the list of all who were in the Hog's Head that day.

"Must have been one of the students, none of the other customers care enough to say anything about this." Remus reasoned out.

"Harry did keep noticing that one shifty person," Lily reminded.

"So there was a shifty person, they still wouldn't have a reason to go darting to Umbridge," Sirius brushed off.

"So the best idea is that arsehole Zacharia, everyone else there never showed any problem with this," James decided.

"That friend of Cho's," Lily said uneasily.

Harry's stomach twisted in pain even as his eyes lit on her for some understanding he got from that, but then Sirius dismissed at once, "loyalty to her friend would keep her mouth shut I'm sure, Zacharia didn't have that with Ernie or that other chick," and Harry was no longer sure what he'd been thinking of.

"Great, now that that's decided, I can't wait to hear what the twins do about this," Remus sneered.

"But Quidditch!" James was not going to let that point go. "That means Harry's team has to be reinstated by that toad! I can't go a whole other year without hearing about him in the Championship!"

Lily smacked him upside the head while Harry kept going with much less enthusiasm now. He'd had all of one page to enjoy himself and that had already been taken away.

Harry and Ron read the notice over the heads of a couple of second-years, who began talking to each other in concern about their Gobstones Club.

"Youthful innocence," Remus sighed.

Harry turned with forming fists to Ron as he hissed that she knew.

Ron at once said she can't have, but Harry insisted she still could have been there, or anyone who had been could have ratted to her. He'd thought they'd believed in him...

"Oh Harry they do," Lily promised at once. "I've realized time and again what a beacon of hope you are for your generation, how so many look to you-"

"Usually not in a good way," Harry interrupted with a scowl, clearly refusing any kind of comfort.

James wouldn't give in that easily as he tisked at Harry, "remember what Dumbledore said last year? If you're striving for universal popularity you're going to be waiting forever. You've hardly ever looked past the bad people are saying of you, try for some optimism a good twenty something people are on your side that you know of, not counting the ones I'm sure are still in that school."

Harry thought about this for a moment before he really did smile. Somehow, he just knew, before all this was up he'd realize his parents were right and that was enough for now even if he didn't feel it currently.

Ron at once said it could have been that Zacharias bloke, or that Michael Corner, he'd been shifty.

All of them at least got a small laugh out of Ron's one track mind, but at least he'd said the main suspect first, he wasn't entirely acting like an overprotective brother.

Harry looked around and didn't yet spot Hermione, so decided they should go up to her room to tell her about this. Ron at once took off for the stairs.

"I can't believe it took you this long to get in this one!" James snorted with glee.

"I found that out during my second year, and it was for a much better reason than visiting a friend," Sirius agreed with a wicked grin.

Harry gazed bemusedly at them, realized they weren't going to elaborate, and kept going curiously what the problem with this was.

He didn't make it past the sixth step when the stone beneath him vanished, turning into one long smooth slide, and Ron was left to tumble backwards and land at Harry's feet.

Harry offered him a hand up as he gazed at the new type of passage, mentioning he no longer thought they could go up to the girls dormitories.

"No, that mustn't be it!" Remus made his eyes go as wide as possible. "What on earth gave you that idea!"

Harry just rolled his eyes at the sarcasm while still grinning at the mental image Ron had provided.

Two fourth years came sliding down, giggling at the ride, while Ron turned an affronted look on Harry and demanded why not, Hermione had been in their room.

Hermione managed that moment to come sliding down, already explaining it was an old- fashioned kind of rule,

"That timing," Lily rolled her eyes.

"I'd have been much more impressed if she'd been coming down headfirst," Remus snickered at the thought.

that Hogwarts: A History said the founders thought boys less trustworthy.

"That is entirely insulting," James pouted.

"What about in the Slytherin common room?" Harry asked in surprise. "They don't even have stairs, how do they stop there?"

"Temporary dirt funnel over you," Sirius grinned. "Any time you try to step pass the barrier, a wall of dirt circles you, though girls around you still come and go, it leaves you pinned like that till you turn around and then it opens again for you to leave."

"Same two things happen for the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws," Remus agreed.

"Why am I the only one insulted by this?" James protested of them.

"Because it's a fairly pointless rule considering most couples don't enjoy spending time in their rooms considering all the, err, shared space, so most find other places to...interact." Remus rolled his eyes at him. "You just get mad because when you tried to fly your broom up there an intruder alert went off and McGonagall showed up and nearly cursed you before realizing what you'd done."

"She never did let that one go, gave him a month of detentions and threatened he'd be in her office for life if he ever set off another alarm like that again," Sirius chuckled.

Harry wouldn't let himself be distracted by this as he dragged Hermione over to the notice and waited impatiently for her to reach it. She'd hardly looked back at them when Ron snapped about someone blabbing, but she began protesting at once no one could have done.

Ron told her she was being naïve,

"Ron just said the same thing before Hermione showed up," Lily rolled her eyes.

"But now of course he realizes he's wrong and he's correcting her as well," Sirius shrugged.

but Hermione insisted that if anyone had done so, they'd now be jinxed because of the spell she put on the parchment everyone had signed.

Harry had hardly paused for breath upon realizing this before he startled at the burst of laughter from all sides. He looked around with his own amused smile to see that even his mum was giggling like mad that Hermione had done something so, underhanded, to ensure silence for this group.

"Hermione is a girl of many talents," James calmed down first as he fixed his glasses.

"She really is something when it comes to protecting her own," Lily agreed fondly.

Ron now looked on, impressed as he asked what this jinx was, and Hermione said it would make the person who blabbed regret it, they would have more blemishes on their face than actual face.

The boys lost it all over again, cackling like idiots, and Harry joined in this time to help relieve some of the tension living in him of how sure he was this was going to be happening at some point.

She beckoned them to head down to breakfast, wondering if this had been put up in the other houses yet.

"I can't imagine why they wouldn't be," Remus shook his head at the idea, his grin still stuck in place for Hermione's curse.

The three of them found the twins, Ginny, Dean, and Neville chatting uneasily as they approached, and they all looked to Harry asking what they were going to do about this.

Harry said do it anyways of course.

"I never thought anything otherwise," Sirius smirked.

George beamed and said he wasn't surprised, though Fred looked suspiciously at the two prefects as he asked if everyone would be in?

"They knew what they were getting into before this stupid, I don't even want to call it a law it's so sad it's a thing," Lily scowled.

Hermione said of course at once, while Ron pointed over his shoulder and said the two prefects from Hufflepuff plus some Ravenclaws were headed over here now, and he still couldn't spot anyone spotty.

Hermione turned around in surprise as she hissed that wasn't the point, they couldn't come over here now, it would be too suspicious.

"No it won't," James said in confusion. "People chat with other people from different houses all the time."

"Still not best to have it clear and obvious who's coming up to talk to me right now," Harry shrugged.

Remus was biting his tongue to hold in the sarcastic comment that even the Great Hall was technically now falling under the more than three people in one group rule.

Hermione began waving frantically at them all to go sit down, while Ginny huffed she'd tell her boyfriend while calling him a fool.

"I already sense true love," Lily giggled as she nestled in a bit to James' pleased smile, both parents missing the stricken look Harry seemed to get for no reason because of that.

She hurried off to the Ravenclaw table, while Harry watched Cho chatting uneasily with the same friend. He wondered if that notice would scare her off from future meetings.

"You could still offer her private lessons, those still even fall under-"

Remus smacked Sirius for Harry this time just so Harry could keep going.

They were leaving the Great Hall when Angelina caught up to them, and informed them this new decree also meant the Quidditch team.

"I can't believe you were more concerned over this group you just made up than your Quidditch team!" James was still stuck on that one.

Harry and Ron were just as shocked to realize this as Angelina turned pleading eyes on him not to have any more outbursts with Umbridge or she'd never let them reform their team.

"I'm getting a really bad feeling about this," Sirius said uneasily, already imagining that toad excluding the Gryffindor's from playing ever again just because Harry was on the team! Surely Dumbledore wouldn't really let that happen though!

"She can't stop Quidditch," James said flatly. He didn't look quite as dangerous as when he'd heard about that quill being used on his son, but this was a good second. "There'd be a true revolt, even the other houses would go barmy if she stopped one team because it would ruin the whole year's structure."

"Breathe you two," Remus tried for comfort even as he shifted uneasily in place at the idea of this. "Prongs said it himself, there's no way this is going to last, I'm sure."

"Least someone is," Harry sighed, he couldn't get rid of this pit of nausea telling him he should have enjoyed Quidditch while he still had it.

Harry quickly agreed to this, mostly because Angelina looked ready to burst into tears.

"Is that all it took, for her to start crying to get you to stop," Lily at least grinned for that.

They walked off then towards History of Magic, Ron saying he was positive Umbridge would be here for this lesson.

"Could she even get rid of him?" Remus asked, clearly looking to think on something else before his friends blew a gasket over their topic. "I feel like even if she did fire him he wouldn't even take notice and he'd just keep showing up."

"I actually agree," Lily nodded. "You'd have to designate a new classroom and put a teacher in there, and then Binns would just show up and keep talking to an empty room."

"The worst part is, Umbridge would probably consider him a good teacher if she doesn't fall asleep in the back like everyone else," Remus sighed.

None of the boys laughed like the two had been hoping.

She however was not, and class began as normal, Harry doodling rather than actually taking notes, and it took several hard prods from Hermione before he looked up. She however was not gesturing for him to pay attention in class, but to the window, where Hedwig was.

"What on Earth?" James began in confusion, that had finally caught everyone's attention onto one subject, and it wasn't History of Magic.

"What's Hedwig up to?" Sirius tried to lean over in concern to look at the book. "Either she could have dropped off her reply with breakfast or she should have waited till you were alone."

Harry had no answer, all he knew was the powerful burning protection rising in him as he gazed at the memory of his owl and hurried quickly on.

Harry took a quick look to the teacher, who was droning on as ever, but still kept low as he went to the window and let her in. Instead of holding out her leg as usual, she hopped inside, hooting dully. Harry quickly moved her to his shoulder and went back to his seat, placing her on his lap instead before he saw the true problem, her feathers were ruffled oddly, and a wing was bent out unnaturally.

"Someone attacked Hedwig!" Harry snarled in outrage.

"Oh the poor dear," Lily crooned in concern, "I can't even imagine what."

"I really can't either," Remus shifted uneasily, remembering clearly who that letter was from...nothing could have happened to Sirius right?!

Harry hissed in surprise she was hurt, while Ron leaned over and Hermione put down her quill to look.

"There's a miracle in itself," Sirius said as he jittered uneasily.

Hedwig was shaking slightly on Harry's knees, and when he tried to touch her wing, she puffed up and tried snapping at him for it.

"Bird bones aren't exactly easy to break, despite being hollow," Remus began prattling off as he pictured it in his mind's eye. "It must have taken some very great effort to bend it out of shape, I can imagine Hedwig fought back-"

"Remus," Harry all but begged, shutting him up instantly as Harry kept hastily going.

Harry waited no longer to take to his feet and call to the professor he was not feeling well.

"Honestly Harry, you could have just walked out and he wouldn't have noticed," Lily told him with a straight face, she knew she would have if her pet had shown up injured.

Professor Binns raised his eyes from his notes, looking amazed as always to find people present.

No one could even crack a smile for this display.

Harry was already walking towards the door, his owl stashed behind him as he declared he was going to the hospital wing.

Binns hardly acknowledged his own dismissal of Perkins as he returned to his notes.

"First time in my life someone called me wrong, and I can't even enjoy the moment," Harry muttered sourly, his eyes flickering to his father's owl and away with longing, he wanted to know right now his owl was okay, he couldn't get rid of this terrible premonition something could be very wrong with her.

When he left the room however, he dithered on where to actually go. His first thought would be Hagrid, but failing that, he decided he had no one to ask but Grubbly-Plank.

"That's so sad," Lily groaned as she twisted up some of her hair with worry, "but I'm positive Grubbly-Plank will help her, she's been nothing but decent so far."

Looking through the nearest window, he did not spot her with a class on the grounds, so decided the best place to start looking was the staff room.

That made Sirius question for the first time where the woman was even staying. It's not as if Hogwarts had an abundance of guest rooms set up, though he supposed one would obviously be provided for her, and entirely not the point right now.

When Harry bolted there, he was met with two talking stone gargoyles who tried to discourage him from knocking, though Harry ignored them as he said it was urgent. It was McGonagall who answered the door, taking one flashing look at him and demanding if he'd been given another detention.

"Must love her faith in you," James continued shifting in unease as they all watched Harry read with panic over his poor pet. They were sure she was fine, it more than likely wasn't a critical injury, but it put them all on the edge something like this had happened so randomly.

The gargoyle interrupted to remind it was urgent as snidely as it could.

"That's not helping," Sirius said through gritted teeth.

Harry quickly showed his owl and told who he was looking for, and was relieved to see the woman was in fact inside. She began inspecting Hedwig at once, talking to herself about how a Thestral was capable of doing this, but Hagrid had the ones on grounds well trained not to attack owls so this wasn't likely.

Remus nodded absently, he'd worked all that out silently himself, and had been hoping for some other answer while Harry absently noted his question of those winged horses had just been answered and he hadn't even realized it.

Harry neither knew nor cared what Thestrals were;

"Oh the irony," Sirius couldn't help but mutter.

as Grubbly-Plank asked how far she'd traveled?

Harry just said to London, and by the look on McGonagall's face, it was clear she understood who the recipient was.

"She's never been slow on the uptake," James began fidgeting all the more, now fingers crossed she'd pull Harry aside so the two could go check on Sirius. What on earth had happened here?

Grubbly-Plank noticed nothing as she asked Harry for him to leave Hedwig with her for a few days, she could take care of this.

Harry gave an uneasy thanks, but before Harry left McGonagall gave Harry the letter Hedwig had been carrying this whole time. Harry took it with one last pitiful look at his owl, who was watching reproachfully as he left as if abandoning her.

Harry shifted guiltily, wishing he could have done more for his owl or at least stayed with her. Remus and James tried to draw comfort from the fact that Harry was more worried for Hedwig than Sirius, surely if he thought something had gone wrong with his godfather he'd be even more upset.

McGonagall escorted him to the door where the bell had been rung and students were starting to swarm from both sides. McGonagall just had time to warn the message that channels of communication in and out of Hogwarts were being watched, before he was swept away.

"The worst part is we already guessed as much," Lily said with grim disgust.

Harry made his way to the courtyard to find his friends talking in low mutters. They both at once asked how Hedwig was, and Harry explained where he'd gone and what McGonagall had passed along.

Neither looked surprised, as Hermione began to say this was the first time Hedwig had ever been intercepted, or had she ever been hurt in flight before?

"Not even to wherever the bloody hell Sirius was hiding before, but now at the safest place on earth," Harry snarled in disgust, still shifting restlessly and knowing he was going to feel off until he knew his owl was back to one hundred percent.

Ron asked about the letter then, and Harry opened it to find Sirius' writing and the simple sentence; same time, same place.

Ron hissed in surprise if that meant he was planning another visit tonight?

"Can't imagine what else it would mean," James said dryly to cover up his heart thudding harder every second. If Sirius didn't make an appearance tonight, than he'd know something was wrong. Surely though it was just Hedwig's response being intercepted, and not the fact that someone had attacked her and Sirius while he'd been putting the letter on the owl. Harry would have been told if something like that had happened, right?

Hermione said that part was obvious, and she just hoped no one else had read this.

Harry said it had still been sealed when he'd got it, plus no one could even understand what this meant.

"That bit is impossible at least," Sirius said with conviction, "no one else was around for last time, I'm sure it'll be fine."

Hermione wasn't as convinced, saying it was possible to reseal things with magic, and if anyone had been watching the Floo Network recently...

They all paled as they realized that, but Lily jostled herself back into thinking right. "That falls under Dumbledore's job to keep that monitored for the school on behalf of the Ministry..." but she trailed off right there, as even before this latest stupid decree it had been made clear Dumbledore's powers were quickly being stripped away. What if someone in the Ministry had noted when this had happened? Could it be possible they'd somehow traced it back to Grimmauld place? The amount of magical protection around that house should have made this impossible...but something had happened to Hedwig, and none of them could stop their stream of worries until they got an answer.

The problem was they couldn't warn him of anything without that being intercepted too.

"There must be some other forms of communication," Harry said through gritted teeth, something even more fearful rearing up inside of him at just the hint of the idea he couldn't get into contact with Sirius because of this, and something was going to go terribly wrong because of it.

Sirius and James exchanged a significant look before James said, "well yes there is, but usually those are private and preset up things that you and Sirius just haven't established yet."

Harry looked on at him in confusion, waiting for that to be explained more, and Sirius did just that. "A few items can be enchanted so that you can have conversations one on one, but like Prongs just said, you have to individually set them up and you and I haven't yet."

Harry still felt like they weren't saying something, but pressed on anyways as he just wanted this nasty feeling to go away. He tried to even remember that happy feeling he'd felt only at the beginning of this chapter, and already that felt like a foreign concept.

They trudged off to potions in silence, which didn't last long as the moment the room was in sight they also heard Malfoy speaking clearly for all to hear.

"I was under the impression that was always how he talked," Remus sneered, more than tired of hearing of this little prat near constantly.

Boasting about how Umbridge had signed off right away for the Slytherin team to continue, of course it was all thanks to his father's influence in the Ministry.

"Nothing should ever be a question of influence inside that rat hole!" Lily snapped in disgust.

The Gryffindor's certainly had no chance this way, as the Ministry had been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasley for years.

"I wish they would," Sirius said nastily, "then half the Ministry would quit in protest and the other half would quit because the place couldn't even run anymore, then Fudge would be forced out of office and we could put someone with a brain in place."

"That was extremely elaborate," Harry told him conversationally.

"That's Sirius," James agreed.

Potter was no use of course, it was just a matter of time before St. Mungo's caught him and put him in the ward for the ones with brain damage.

"Considering that room isn't housing the whole of your family, I don't consider them that reliable," James sneered.

Malfoy began making grotesque faces at Harry, who had no time to react as someone forced past his shoulder, Neville.

"Uh oh," Lily sat straight up in concern.

"I hadn't realized Neville was around," James winced in concern.

"This could be..." Sirius trailed off as he couldn't decide how this was going to be. Neville would get a few good licks in, more from shock on Malfoy's part than anything, but now everyone in the area would question why this had affected Neville so bad, clearly something the boy was against as he'd never brought it up himself.

Harry leapt forward to try and stop him, to the stunned faces of everyone around them.

All five of them remained grim faced, the boys for once not even cheering this fight on. Neville deserved whatever he was going to do to Malfoy for that crack, but glory the motivation for it was the most terrible thing any of them could put into words.

Ron quickly joined in restraining their dorm mate, while Neville inarticulately shouted at Malfoy about not funny, Mungo's-

Snape arrived then, at once taking ten points away from the three struggling boys.

Harry only released Neville once Malfoy was inside, apologizing by saying Crabbe and Goyle would have torn him in half.

"Not if you'd backed him up rather than stopping him," Remus said under his breath.

"As you always say Moony, time and place," Sirius gave him the absent reminder, wishing he could go start his own fight with the twisted beings passing as people walking around with the intent to do this to their friends.

Neville said nothing as he stalked inside and set well away from them as class got started.

They were all still shifting uneasily in here for that distressing moment, each wishing they could do something, say anything to make that even remotely better, but words weren't enough.

Snape began class by saying they had a guest today.

Harry looked back around in surprise and was amazed he'd missed the pink amongst the black background, Umbridge was present, clipboard in hand.

James's mouth opened with a little pop, before he exaggeratedly clutched at his throat and began pantomiming distress.

"Honestly, I'm with Prongs," Sirius nodded along while Lily watched him with mild concern for the show. "I've never been more torn who I want to see come on top on this one."

Harry exchanged a look with Ron and Hermione, all of them feeling the same. It was hard to decide who to root for in this moment.

"Why can't I have normal friends who just say something like that, instead of you two idiots?" Remus gave a small smile as Sirius had switched to raising both hands and clearly weighing both sides, and James had only slightly calmed down by now making exaggerated faces every few seconds.

"Oh hush Remus, you know full well you want to go get the camera right now," Lily said with mild indulgence at the display.

"Well I can't tell them that, then they'd think I approve or something," he smirked.

Snape gave this no more attention as the told them all to begin today's work, but Harry was so interested in watching Umbridge shadow Snape Hermione stopped him three consecutive times from adding the wrong ingredient to his potion.

"I knew that conviction of not letting Snape get the better of you wouldn't last long," Sirius sighed.

"You're going to blow that potion up in your face if you don't pay more attention," Lily couldn't help but scold him.

Harry hardly gave her notice as Umbridge began her usual line of questioning, saying that while the class was clearly well handled, perhaps today's potion was too advanced and should be taken off the syllabus.

"I'm confident they'd want everything removed from the syllabus that doesn't involve brain washing," Remus snarked.

Snape gave no response to this as she switched to asking how long he'd been here, to which he curtly replied fourteen years.

"Oh how I long for the days of Slughorn, who'd have thought," Sirius grumbled in disgust.

"I will pay that man whatever it takes to never go into retirement and keep this from happening," James vowed.

Harry was frowning lightly to himself, wondering at that time frame, though surely it couldn't be anything too significant...

Harry was watching his expression, and so looked down in surprise to find his potion had gone from the turquoise it was supposed to be, to orange.

Lily shook her head, now completely giving up on the idea Harry's potion was going anywhere this lesson.

Umbridge and Snape kept his attention though as she asked that Snape had first asked for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post? When he gave a one worded answer, she affirmed he was unsuccessful?

"You know at some point, I almost wish he would be," Sirius groaned. "Then he'd be gone after that year."

Harry gave an odd little laugh of agreement he was sure shouldn't feel as significant as it did.

Snape's lip curled as he stated obviously.

Remus snorted in surprise, and then at once was affronted he'd done any such thing, and covered his face with shame.

"There, there, Moony, we all lapse in sanity sometimes," Sirius grinned as he patted his shoulder with comfort.

"Now what was this about me being dramatic again?" James smirked. "I would never deny when anyone made a good comeback."

"Shut up Prongs," Remus huffed as he scowled at him instead.

Umbridge just made a little note before asking he regularly applied for the job?

Snape gave another yes, clearly growing angrier by the moment.

"It is actually hurting my soul to be enjoying this so much," Sirius was watching the book with an intense feeling even he couldn't quite read. It wasn't quite pleasure, but far more understanding than he'd ever given Snape in his life.

She then asked why Dumbledore denied him the job?

"He's afraid to let him into a classroom with daylight, he might melt," James smirked.

"Wrong myth dear," Lily muttered without explanation to his confused look. She was sitting far back in her seat with her arms crossed. She still couldn't quite bring herself to the level of mocking him like the boys were doing, but for once in their life, they all seemed to be of the same mind when it came to Snape right now.

When Snape did not give a satisfying answer, she decided she'd have to ask the headmaster herself then. She walked off to begin questioning the students, and Snape stalked straight over to Harry, noted the way his potion was frothing, and then vanished it again with no grade for this class while also assigning him the homework of the correct way to brew this potion.

"Merlin's pants, you congratulate the man for one second on doing something right and he turns around and does even more bull loaded nonsense!" Sirius groaned in disgust.

"Snape reached his limit of my liking for him and then shattered it all in the same stretch, I'd be impressed if I wasn't pissed," James huffed in agreement.

Harry glared hatefully at him as he walked away. Snape had already assigned one lesson today, now Harry had two. There goes another sleepless night.

"I found it cathartic to try breaking something, like his nose," Remus said so only Sirius could hear, causing him to at least giggle a bit, but the two kept that one to themselves.

Harry trudged off to lunch glumly, considering skipping Divination so he could spend the time starting that new assignment from Snape.

Hermione disagreed at once for the idea,

"I really can't see how it makes too much of a difference honestly," Lily said grudgingly. "That's a waste of a class, you're prioritizing."

"There are many reasons I fell in love with you dear," James grinned at her, "this is one of them."

Lily just grinned as she waved on her surprised son.

Ron told her she was one to talk, she'd walked out on the class.

Hermione defended she found the subject a waste, but Harry had already missed History of Magic this morning, he couldn't afford to keep skipping all his classes.

"He was doodling during that class, I hardly think he missed out on something riveting," Sirius snorted.

"Hermione is a terrible conscience if she can't even tell you how to sort your day out," Remus sighed.

Harry grudgingly agreed to this logic as he went off, but found he wasn't the only one having a bad day. Trelawney was stamping around the class placing the books down as usual, but was muttering tersely under her breath and did not stop as more students entered. She dropped the book loudly on Harry and Ron's little table, nearly took Seamus' nose off as she thrusted the book at them, and actually pushed Neville off his pouffe as she put the book in his arms.

"I know Monday's are terrible, but this is getting ridiculous for all parties," James said in confusion.

When all eyes watched her with worry, she snapped at them briskly to get a move on, or was she such a substandard teacher they didn't even know how to open a book?

"Ouch," Remus winced, all of them at once understanding what must have happened.

"Is it of some comfort she wasn't outright fired?" Lily sighed, none of them particularly liked her, but that didn't mean they wanted her under Umbridge's thumb either, which seemed to be what had happened.

"Not much," James groaned.

Harry leaned in and whispered to Ron it looked like Trelawney had gotten her inspection results back.

Parvati raised a tentative hand and asked in genuine concern if something was wrong?

Trelawney said in a throbbing voice of course there was nothing wrong! She'd been insulted, accused, but there was nothing wrong!

"As if she doesn't contradict herself enough with her predictions, now she's doing it in real time," Sirius tried for his old mocking tone, but even he didn't hate Trelawney enough to poke fun at this.

The class watched as a few tears spilled from her eyes while Lavender asked who'd insulted her?

"If she really can't piece that together logically than she could at least consult a crystal ball," Lily muttered without any real heat.

Trelawney got some of her old dramatics back as she stated the establishment! Her kind had always been persecuted.

She spent the rest of the class striding about wiping away tears, muttering threats under her breath about how dare they put her on probation and she may well quit from the indignity of it.

"Of all the teachers to go on probation, she wasn't exactly number one on my list," Remus sighed.

"Even she didn't deserve this," Harry grudgingly agreed past all his annoyance at her.

Harry arrived at his final class to find Hermione waiting for them, as Harry told her and Umbridge both had something in common, they both found Trelawney a fraud, and he explained about her probation.

"That was insulting Harry, a fact does not give two people anything in common," Lily said flatly.

Umbridge entered with the usual standard and for all wands to be put away. There was no flurry of movement this time, no one had bothered to take their wand out.

"I'd be worried for their mental health if they had by this point," Sirius snapped, then winced at the careless comment as he imagined Neville's reaction again.

She instructed them which chapter they were to be reading today and finished as always there was no need to talk, coupled with the trio under their breaths.

"No need to think, more like," Remus sneered in disgust.

Harry came back to the common room that night to find Angelina in a state, she hadn't been given her permission for their team.

Harry at once promised he hadn't done anything today-

"You already have though Harry," James sighed. "That first day you asked to go to tryouts told her all she needed to know about the best way to get to you."

Harry looked horror struck he could be the reason his team didn't get set back up, so Lily quickly soothed, "oh I'm sure you're all exaggerating this, Quidditch is a set Hogwarts tradition, even Umbridge can't be stupid enough to think she can go on without letting the team play forever, someone will step in." Even she didn't look very convinced by the end, that woman had already gotten away with far too much.

Angelina assured she knew it wasn't Harry's fault this time, the woman had said she just needed time to consider.

Ron told in a temper she hadn't had to think about anything in regards to the Slytherins, but Angelina just shook her head pitifully as she walked away.

Hermione tried to point out the bright side, at least now he had more time to do Snape's essay.

"That's not the bright side I was looking for," Lily groaned, even she wouldn't put that in the good column.

Harry demanded of her how no Quidditch but extra potions was a good thing?

Still, he had no choice but to begin on his work, proven extra difficult tonight by the amount of noise in the room. Fred and George had apparently perfected their Puking Pastel, and were demonstrating it to a cheering crowd. The twins took turns eating the orange bit, and vomiting spectacularly until they got down the purple pill. Lee was assisting by making the bucket they were vomiting into randomly disappear.

At least the Marauder's looked entertained at this display, while Lily found the whole thing rather sad this was getting such a show. Could watching someone vomit really be so entertaining?

Nothing was helped by Hermione tisking in disgust, and as Harry scratched out the wrong information for the fourth time in frustration, he demanded she go yell at them and get it over with if that's what she wanted.

Hermione was just as frustrated she technically couldn't, as none of this was against the rules.

Ron was watching the show with some surprise, asking how they hadn't got more than three OWLs each? They clearly knew their stuff.

Hermione scoffed they only knew flashy things that were of no real use.

"No real use!" Sirius looked stricken.

"This is the most valuable thing I've ever seen invented, far more useful than a dozen spells I could name that have only one purpose! This is a multipurpose gift!" James agreed.

"Would you lot calm down," Lily rolled her eyes at them. "So they make you vomit, Sirius' socks can do that."

"Not stop on command though," Remus reminded, "think about it Lily, this could even have some real world applications for spies, slipping this into someone's food and they couldn't stop unless you promised them the antidote."

Lily pursed her lips even as her mind did begin spinning past the trouble it caused. Satisfied that everyone at least appreciated these things on some level, Harry did keep going with a small smile in place now.

Ron pointed out one use the twins were already prospering in, they'd made more than twenty-six Galleons tonight alone.

"And there's that," Remus agreed absently.

Finally though the crowd stopped shouting, orders were taken, and the room began to quiet down. Harry still wasn't even halfway through his work though when Ron shouted in surprise at Sirius.

James and Remus finally felt themselves relax since the news of Hedwig's arrival. They wouldn't even admit to themselves how worried they'd been for him about the attack on Harry's owl during this delivery, but clearly he was just fine and it had been some other thing to happen to Hedwig completely unrelated to Harry's godfather.

Harry happily slid from his chair to greet him, Ron and Hermione joining him on the hearth along with Crookshanks, who tried nestling up to the fire.

Lily giggled happily at the idea, eyeing her cat whose tail was just being spotted hanging from the staircase banister.

Sirius grinned as he saw them, asking how things were?

James felt the same grin appear on his face and he wasn't even beside his mate, it was just natural even when he wasn't in on the joke, though he did wonder what Sirius knew and was eager to hear.

Harry grumbled not that good, how the Ministry was forcing them to have Quidditch teams approved-

and secret Defence groups? Sirius inserted.

Harry stared in stunned disbelief at the words before turning wide eyed to his godfather, who at once put his own baffled hands up in surrender. "Don't look at me, even I'm not that good."

"And it takes a lot for him to admit to that," Remus said off hand even as they kept watching the book for this explanation. Maybe Padfoot had showed up after all but not even been seen by Harry just to prove a point, that seemed the kind of thing their friend would likely do.

There was a pause before Harry demanded how he knew about that?

Sirius kept grinning as he said the Hog's Head was a terrible choice.

Hermione defended it was better than the Three Broomsticks, always packed with people-

which would have made them harder to overhear, Sirius pointed out.

"At least some things about you never change," Remus grinned.

Telling Hermione she had a lot to learn.

"And I'm sure he'd be happy to teach you," Lily shook her head for him.

Harry wouldn't be distracted and demanded how he knew, and Sirius explained Mundungus had told them, he'd been the witch under the veil.

Harry's mouth flopped open, outraged that he was still being followed, before he glanced up and saw all of them not trying very hard to stifle giggling at the thought of Mundungus dressing up like this. James pushed the idea further by getting out around a shaking voice, "wonder if that was Sirius' idea for the disguise, and Dung was too afraid to say anything otherwise?"

Harry did crack a grin for that at least, though it didn't at all make him feel better as he still hadn't been told about this, this time not even by Sirius.

Harry was outraged he was still being followed.

That did make the others realize as well Sirius had been fully aware of this and had not passed this information on, but James defended his mate on this one. "Firstly Harry, when exactly was he supposed to tell you this? Maybe Sirius didn't even know you still were until Mundungus showed back up to say what you'd done." His face soured for his own explanation though, as Sirius should get first say in what happened around Harry.

"Besides that, maybe Sirius just assumed you still knew. Followed outside of school, why not while in it too," Remus rolled his eyes at the absurdity of this even while he explained it.

Harry just sighed but decided against butting heads with Sirius over this when it more than likely still wasn't his decision.

Sirius just chuckled it was a good idea if the first thing he was going to do was go out and create illegal defence groups. He in no way looked angry or worried, on the contrary, Harry found pride as he kept gazing at them.

"I swear you are the worst influence on his life," Lily didn't even bother trying for a stern tone as she grinned at him. "Can't you at least pretend to scold him before congratulating this idea."

"I'm not even going to bother to apologize," Sirius kept snickering.

Ron asked why Dung had been hiding, but Sirius explained he'd been banned from the Hog's Head twenty years ago.

Harry had felt some growing unease since he'd read Sirius' letter, so he tried to ignore why for a moment and asked, "what's the story there?"

"Sadly we've only ever heard some garbage from the man himself," Remus sighed.

"We tried to get him to meet us there for an Order meeting one day and he wouldn't go," James pouted, "only said he hadn't been there in ages. When we asked the barman, he told us when he'd been banned but wouldn't say more."

"Maybe he showed up without covering his face and ruined the motif," Lily rolled her eyes at all of their disappointment at not learning something.

"Considering how off that barman is, my best guess is it was something personal though," Sirius grumbled, wishing he did know what had happened.

Then he switched by turning to Ron,

"I still think this Dung in a dress thing warrants far more commentary," James chuckled.

"Keep it to your own head then," Lily rolled her eyes at him.

and said he'd promised to pass along a message.

Ron asked what that could be with clear apprehension.

"I am to," James' face at once tightened in concern of what that woman had to say about this.

Molly had said under no circumstances was he to be involved in any illegal Defence groups, she did not need to hear of him being expelled. There would be plenty of time later for him to learn to defend himself, and he was still too young to be worrying about this.

"Merlin's pants, she sounds like Umbridge!" Remus protested in disgust.

"That's a bit extreme," Lily frowned at him. "She doesn't want to hear of Ron in trouble."

"Why didn't I ask the other three Weasley's to be in attendance for them to hear about this as well?" Sirius rolled his eyes.

"How exactly would you have secretly phrased that?" Harry chuckled, "I'm sure Ron'll just pass it along to them, for all the good it'll do."

Sirius then looked at all three of them and finished he hoped Harry and Hermione followed this advice as well, but she accepted she had no control of this and just had their best interests at heart.

"Would love to have been there for that bit," James huffed, wondering what Sirius had said to remind Molly that's all she could say on the subject.

She'd have made an appearance tonight to say this herself if she hadn't been on guard duty.

Ron asked guarding what, and Sirius just said Order stuff.

That gave them all a moment of interest. This guard duty got more interesting the more they heard about it, though it was still infuriating just hints kept being dropped about it instead of actually being told what it was, especially by Sirius himself.

He then asked Ron to make sure his mother knew he'd at least gotten the message, he didn't think she trusted him to pass it along.

"Honesty I'm a bit impressed you did," Lily snorted.

Then Sirius went back to watching Harry with a grin, who asked with defeat if Sirius was going to ask him to stop?

"As if," they all scoffed at once that's the conclusion anyone could draw. Sirius saying something like that would be akin to him declaring undying love for Snape.

Sirius looked surprised this was his conclusion, he found this a great idea!

"There's my Padfoot," James chuckled.

Harry felt his heart lifting at once as Sirius said he and James would never have lain down and taken orders from Umbridge.

"Not a chance on the Map," James' grin turned wolfish, Sirius at once agreeing while Remus looked a touch offended. He could understand why Sirius wouldn't have said the whole of the Marauders, that would hurt his heart too much to possibly ever say again, but he'd have liked to at least been acknowledged as well during that. Clearly even his name being passed along by Sirius was too much to ask for anymore, and this somehow continued to get more depressing the less he was mentioned.

Harry was still surprised, as all last year Sirius had told him to do was not take risks- but Sirius brushed that off that last year they'd been concerned about Voldemort coming back. Now he was, and Harry needed to do everything in his power to keep himself up on defences, this was a great idea!

"I notice you've yet to ask us how we'll be learning?" Harry smiled at him. "I'd have liked to know what you thought of me teaching the lot of them."

"I'm sure pride, amusement, and a list of other good things," Sirius smiled fondly at Harry who couldn't help but beam.

Hermione asked and if they were expelled?

"I'd thought she'd sorted out her priorities by now?" Remus sighed.

"Then you'll have less homework and more time to practice," Sirius snorted at her oddly.

"This was her idea, why's she suddenly the one bringing this up," James rolled his eyes in agreement.

Harry protested this had been Hermione's idea, but Hermione said she still wanted to hear what Sirius had to say about that.

Sirius just said better kicked out of school knowing than inside without a clue.

"Why do you seem to be the only person thinking like that," Remus agreed with an unfocused gaze, Sirius turned to look curiously at him for the tone and not understanding the put out look still on his face.

Sirius happily switched to asking where this was going to be taking place?

Harry said he'd love some ideas, because they hadn't a clue.

Sirius at once suggested the Shrieking Shack.

"You'd think you'd realize same as Remus did, that's not big enough for almost thirty of them," Lily looked at him in confusion.

"I might not know how many of them there were," Sirius shrugged, "if it had been ten or less it may have worked better."

Hermione didn't think so, saying there was no way they could all sneak down there like they had, one Invisibility Cloak wasn't going to cover it.

"I don't see why that's her problem," James said in confusion. "Sure the cloak helps to sneak onto the grounds, but so long as they don't do it after school hours while taking turns sneaking down there, that wasn't really the issue."

Sirius didn't argue and instead offered a space behind a mirror on the fourth floor, that had always been roomy.

"That one could have been big enough," Sirius pouted, "if it hadn't caved in."

"I'm really coming up with nothing short of a classroom, which is ridiculous when you consider how big that school is but nothing outside of the classrooms hold that many people," James ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

Harry said Fred and George had told him ages ago it had caved in.

Sirius strained to think of something else, but then froze, looked sideways into the brick wall, and suddenly looked alarmed.

Harry's voice spiked in concern at once, James nearly startling out of his seat at such an abrupt change, and Remus leaning in protectively close to Sirius as he watched the book dangerously for what that face could mean. Sirius was at Grimmauld, and Harry was at school, surely nothing could be happening at either end or they would have realized it before now...

Harry anxiously asked what was wrong, but Sirius had already vanished.

James couldn't help jumping out of his seat then, his face stark white with concern as he fought back the impulse to snatch the book away from Harry's stuttering, fear filled voice.

Harry turned puzzled eyes on his friends, trying to ask them what that could have been about, but then Hermione let out a horrified shriek and leapt away, followed by the boys as they spotted a hand groping through the fire, with short stubby fingers covered in ugly old rings.

Lily began swearing violently as her mind raced to realize what, how this had happened!

The three raced off for the stairs, Harry looking back one last time to see Umbridge's hand still snatching at the flames where Sirius' hair had just been, determined to snatch him.

"No, no, no!" Harry shouted in outrage. "How could she! There's no way she could have known you were there, how could she even manage to do that to you! What did she almost do?"

"Pulled him right out of his fireplace into her's," Lily answered through numb lips.

Sirius didn't realize that pressure was Remus' hand curled so tight on his arm, prepared to wrench him out of the way of something any second, until he tried to move towards Harry and reassure him everything was alright, he'd escaped. He looked back at Remus steadily, who had to concentrate to unfurl his hand, before Sirius promised Harry and everyone, "relax, I bolted, she didn't grab me or you'd have realized it. You've never done this before, but you can still sense what's going on at your end as well as the place you're visiting. You can also still feel the Floo Network working around you. I'd have sensed someone else trying to jump in and I bolted, there's no way she could tell where, everything's fine."

No one looked remotely reassured. Too much adrenaline still pumping in them, too close a shave that Sirius was once again trying to blow off. He hardly even looked ruffled, if his eyes were a little wider than usual than that was more mild surprise than anything someone had gotten so close to him.

James was still shaking and too white from fear as he kept a steady eye on his brother, that had been the most fear inducing moment yet and it had happened while he'd been chatting with Harry! What was wrong with this world Sirius couldn't have one actual conversation with his son lately without something happening to someone!?

#The Life that Never Lived #Harry Potter #HP #Fanfiction #reading the books #ootp #The Marauders #Jilly #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

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greensaplinggrace · 4 years

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ok another clack fic cuz cloud whump is the best and there’s never enough, so “please don’t cry” and “don’t ever do that again” from prompt list where cloud is still emotionally inept but zack is always there to help him feel and comfort him🥰🥰

Soooo...this took a very dramatic turn and I’m sorry! I actually have another version of this fic more along the lines of what you asked for in the works, so if you want me to tag you when I post it I can totally do that XD. I’m sorry it took me so long to complete this prompt! Life has been a bitch and I didn’t want to force it, you know?

“Please don’t cry” / “Don’t ever do that again.” (From This Here Prompt List)

*TW for violence and minor emetophobia

-If you want to send in a prompt, the guidelines are HERE and HERE!

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Dusk has settled well over the city when the register rings shut for the final time that night. Sealing away the money he’d just counted should not be as satisfying as it is, but Cloud’s more than eager to end his shift. Eight hours is a misery but ten is exhausting, and every muscle in his body aches with the need for plush sheets and the warmth of his heating pad.

Today is Zack’s day off, which means he’s going to want to take the scenic route as he walks Cloud home, but there’s no way in hell Cloud is walking three miles today. He wants his binder off and his packing out. He doesn’t know why he’d thought packing on a busy Saturday was a good idea, but he’s starting to regret it.

Kicking the cup-holders into place, Cloud checks over the fridge and the oven before finally flicking off the last of the lights. There are some dishes still in the sink, but it’s only a couple of plates and a mug. Not enough to bother with, and hopefully not enough to piss Barret off come morning, though Cloud can never be too sure when it comes to the man.

Sometimes, he feels like Barret is warming up to him. Other times it’s like the man has an “I hate Cloud Strife” tattoo painted across his face. Cloud’s long since stopped trying to impress the guy in favor of actually being himself, and the recent response has been a whole bag of mixed signals. The only consolation is that he seems to hate Zack more. Which is why Zack has been permanently banned from visiting Cloud on morning shifts and instead been delegated to walking him home after closing. An entirely useless endeavor, considering Cloud can take care of himself, but Zack mostly does it to keep him company than out of some strange sense of duty, so he lets it slide.

A loud pounding on the door signals Zack’s arrival, and Cloud only makes another cursory sweep over the kiosk before hanging up his apron and grabbing his things from the back. As soon as he heads for the front door he sees Zack, face pressed to the glass and waving wildly, an eager smile splitting his face in two.

Warmth wells in Cloud's chest at the sight, along with a faint of tinge of exasperation at the other man's antics. He sighs and rolls his eyes enough for Zack to see it through the smudged windows, pushing the door open so hard it has him bouncing off the glass.

“Ow! Hey!” Zack huffs, rubbing at his nose with a pout, and Cloud casts him an unimpressed look.

“Tifa’s going to have your head for messing up her window.” The door shuts behind him with a bang, rattling against a gust of heavy wind, and Cloud burrows into his scarf with a shiver. He fumbles for the key with gloved fingers and uses his other hand to pull the scarf tighter, scowling into the soft fabric when Zack only grins.

“Don’t worry! She won’t ever know it was me.”

“Yes, she will.”

“Wh- how?! Nobody saw me.”

Cloud raises a brow at him before turning to the door, fighting with the lock for a good three seconds before it budges and clicks into place, and when he turns back around it’s to see an expression and complete and utter betrayal on Zack's face.

“You would tell her? About me, your own boyfriend? What happened to bros before hoes?”

“Tifa is my bro.”

“What, so does that mean I’m your hoe?”

Cloud’s lips twitch into a smile, and he hides his blush in the folds of his scarf as he grabs Zack’s hand and powers down the sidewalk. “Let’s go.”

“Yeesh! Calm the death grip, piña colada.”

“Absolutely not, Zack.”

“It’s a cute pet name.”

“It’s not a pet name at all.”

“Well, you’ve vetoed literally every real one in existence. I have to get creative.”

“There’s not a creative bone in your body, soldier.”

Zack tuts, tone suddenly serious in a way that has Cloud feeling guilty for snapping, and slows his walk drastically. He tugs at Cloud’s hand as he does so, and Cloud’s forced to either drop behind or risk losing him. Reluctantly, Cloud falls back. When he reaches Zack’s side, the other man is quick to give him a sideways look of concern. “You’re in a mood. Bad day at work?”

“It’s not a mood,” Cloud hisses, because the tension just won’t leave, heart pounding and ears ringing. Zack’s hand tightens around his for a while, thumb pressing into his palm until he’s gentling.

“I know,” Zack eventually says, “those were the wrong words. I’m sorry.”

Cloud glances away. “‘S fine.”

“Did something happen at work?”

“Just-” Cloud exhales loudly, pulling Zack closer as they turn a corner, “-long day. And a Saturday, so…”

“Your chest hurt?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, then how about we talk about the awesome day I had at my work!” Cloud hums his assent, leaning into Zack all the way as he relaxes into the sound of Zack’s voice. “A vet came in for Collie today, and they were the perfect match. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a dog and a woman fall in love faster in my life. I mean, I’ll be sad to see her go, but she’s still got regular checkups for a bit, so I can spend some time with her for a little while longer. Not to mention Cissnei is an amazing person. I mean, she’s rough around the edges - sure - but who isn’t?”

“I have no idea who that is.”

“Oh! She’s the vet. Just came back from a real bad tour and she needed a trainer with good ethics - that’s me - so she dropped by and almost instantly bonded with Collie. It was so heartwarming. Wait, I’ve got a picture here…She wouldn’t let me take a video but...”

Zack trails off as he searches for his phone, and as much as Cloud loves hearing about Zack’s passions, he takes a relieved breath of fresh air at the break.

It’s quiet out. Cold and biting beneath a clear sky, and Cloud peers up to blink at the lack of stars and natural lighting. A thick glow isolates the moon above him, created by the ever present lights and sounds of the city, and he feels a longing pang for home. He tugs at Zack’s hand and leans even further into him, pressing his face against the warmth of Zack’s coat, and listens to the rising curses with a contented curl of amusement.

Maybe he won’t go straight to bed, after all.

Steps echoing down the abandoned inner roads, they turn another corner and start towards their apartments. He glances up at the other man through his lashes, reluctant to part completely and abandon Zack’s heat. Snuggling would be nice, he decides. Cradled in his boyfriend’s arms as they warm up beneath the covers. Maybe he could even convince Zack to give him a massage.

Cloud hums, opening his mouth to ask if Zack would like to stay the night, but before he can so much as get a word out a bruising grip wraps around his wrist. All thoughts of home are wiped clean from his mind as he’s ripped from Zack’s arm with a startled yelp. He twists and drives his head viciously backwards into his attacker’s nose, only managing to feel a brief sense of satisfaction at the ensuing snap and scream before hard metal collides with his head in an excruciating explosion of pain. He gasps and chokes out a cry, legs buckling as his mind splinters in agony.

“Cloud!” Zack’s voice rings painfully in his ears as his hand is wrenched to the other side of his chest, an arm encircling him and pulling him back into another body.

He flinches at the feeling of a cool metal circle coming to rest against the side of his head, whimpering as he’s shaken violently, head flaring enough to make his stomach lurch. “Zack.” His voice cracks on the word as he blinks stars from his eyes, Zack’s wide blue eyes coming into view before the pure, unadulterated horror of his expression does. Cloud’s stomach lurches again and he heaves, struggling weakly against his captor’s grip.

“Hey!” The gun digs painfully into his skin as the man shakes him again. “Quit your damn struggling before I decide you ain’t worth my time.”

“No! No- don’t-” Zack sounds on the edge of panic, and something somewhere in Cloud’s hazy mind tells him he should comfort the man, but no words can find his lips. “Don’t hurt him, please. What do you want? I’ll give- I’ll give you anything, just-”

“No…”

“I said shut the hell up! You think I’m joking?”

“He’s- he’s out of it, man. Come on. Just tell me what you want. Don’t- don’t shoot him, please. Is it money? I’ve- I don’t have a lot, but- but it’s all yours. All of it.”

Cloud whines out a protest, awareness trickling back slowly. Zack is strapped for cash right now. He wouldn’t survive dumping all of his money.

“Tell your bitch to shut the fuck up!”

“Hey, calm down man, okay? Here- here’s all of it just...” There’s a thump on the ground in front of them, and what ensues in the most excruciating and awkward bend in the history of Cloud’s life as the guy reaches for it, never once taking the gun from his head. Then there's a scoff, and Cloud knows - knows - what he’s going to say before the words even fall from his lips.

“You think this is enough? The hell do you take me for? Give me all of it!”

“That’s all I-”

“Does your boy have anything on him?” The man’s shaking now, voice wavering on the edge of hysteria, and the tremor of his gun has Cloud swallowing tears of fear. “‘Cause if he’s hiding nothin’-!”

“No, he’s fucking broke, just-”

“I saw you walkin’ along all comfortable! Give me your fucking phone and...and that necklace.”

Cloud’s stomach drops with the words, panic rising high and heedy in the back of his throat. The necklace - Angeal’s necklace. No way. No fucking way.

“Um...the- the necklace, right.” It’s weak and strained, Zack biting his lip to hold back tears, and something in Cloud’s heart breaks.

“Don’t. Zack, don’t-” his words are cut off in a cry of pain as the gun comes back down on his head again, and there’s piercing, splitting noise like gunfire that has Cloud jumping, bucking against his captor in pure terror as Zack yells.

“Holy shit. What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“I told him to stay fucking quiet! The next one goes through his head.” The grip tightens around Cloud until he can hardly move anymore, gasping for breath as the tears shake from his eyes. “Now give me the damn necklace. Now!”

“Okay..okay, I’m giving you the necklace.” Zack’s sounding really agitated now. In a different, very dangerous way that says he’s about to do something stupid, and the thump of Cloud's heart against his ribs is more deafening than the gunshot ever could be.

Zack is going to endanger himself. Zack is going to do something. Cloud’s mouth feels gummy but he can’t move and he can’t speak and his head feels like it’s on fire. Through the blur of his tears he sees Zack shift, hand coming up to his neck, and he feels his captor freeze against him.

“What are those?”

“They’re my tags, man. They’re...completely worthless.”

“You were in the army?”

“Special forces.” The hard edge to his tone is enough to chill even Cloud, who’s known Zack for years and who’s seen him smile like the very heart of the universe itself. For his captor, it seems to have an even worse effect. One of high, panicked breaths and the uneasy waiver of his gun.

Cloud sees Zack’s face harden before he charges. Sees him tense and move in the split second the gun is away from his head and it’s like the world comes crashing down around him. “Zack! Don’t-”

His voice breaks as he’s pushed aside, the breath forced from his lungs when he collides with the ground, head searing. A gunshot cracks through the air and there’s a shout, fists against flesh and another shot, this time with a scream, and Cloud tries desperately to push himself up and see what’s happening but the world spins sickeningly and he vomits onto the dirty concrete with a gut wrenching sob.

Then there’s silence. A loud thud that makes Cloud’s veins run cold and his stomach quiver again.

“Cloud.” A hand pushes through his hair, soft and gentle and Zack, and Cloud lets out a sob of relief. He collapses into Zack’s hold, shaking against his knees and encased in his arms, and claws desperately at the fabric of his pants. Burrowing his head into Zack’s thigh, Cloud sucks in a deep breath and exhales with the force of every line of tension wringing his energy dry.

“Zack,” he breathes, “Zack, you’re alive.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m so sorry, Cloud. I should never have let you get hurt like that, I- I- Hey…hey, please don’t cry.”

Cloud shakes his head and chokes out another sob, because God - God - he’d almost lost him. Almost lost Zack. And the tears won’t stop spilling from his eyes even as Zack runs a hand through his hair, up and down his back soothingly. Even as Zack curls around him like he’d never let Cloud go.

“You almost died- you almost-” and then there’s anger, stark and hot as he raises his wet face to glare at his stupid fucking boyfriend, “-don’t ever do that again.”

Zack smiles weakly, wiping at his own eyes with his shoulder, and the glint of his tags - the glint of Angeal’s necklace - makes Cloud’s shoulders seize again as a fresh wave of tears comes. He clenches his eyes to fight it and ducks his head down again, Zack’s words vibrating against his cheek as he speaks.

“I could say the same about you. Fuck, Cloud, I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.”

“I doubt it.”

“No, it’s true. It’s- It’s really, really true.”

Cloud lets that sink in for a second. “Oh.”

Zack cracks out a laugh, forced and loose and relieved all at once, and exhales as his shoulders droop with exhaustion. “Yeah, oh. Never again, Cloud.”

Cloud sighs and closes his eyes, letting the world take him.

“What about damsel in distress?”

Cloud opens his eyes again with the single minded purpose of burning a hole into Zack’s waist. “What do you think?”

“Eh…” Zack smiles nervously and scratches the back of his head. “Too feminine?”

“Too ridiculous.”

“I did just save your life.”

Cloud scoffs and doesn’t say anything for a while. Then, “you’re giving me a massage when we get back home.”

“Sweet Apple Pie, I’ll give you a thousand massages once we get back home. But we aren’t getting home until you’ve been to a hospital.”

“Ugh.” Cloud pulls a face, though for the pet name or the idea of a hospital, he doesn’t know.

Zack takes his response with the usual amount of grace. “You’re going to the hospital if I have to haul your ass there by the seat of your pants,” he huffs, “and I’ll call Tifa to make sure you don’t struggle.”

“We should probably call Tifa anyway.”

Zack sighs lengthily, petting a hand through Cloud’s hair as he tilts his head back to look at the sky, and Cloud relaxes into the touch with a pleased hum. There’s the occasional zing of pain when Zack skirts around the lumps on his head, but the pain fades into a dull background noise over time, as they sit and drift into the quiet of the night.

The ambulance arrives not two minutes later.

#clack #cloud strife #zack fair #ffvii #ff7 #remake #crisis core #fanfiction #whump #zakkura #hurt comfort #cloud strife needs a hug #promptfills #trans cloud strife

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graveyard-tales · 4 years

Text

Road Trip AU

Korra and Bolin are in charge of the snacks. The only reason there are some homemade snacks as well as some healthier options is because Opal had tagged along.

They have gps but it’s on mute because they kept mocking the tone of the voice. They all agree it sounds so damn condescending. They often forget about it, to the point where they almost stop using it completely.

Bolin laid claim to the music. It’s not too bad, he has a little something for everyone, but it’s mostly all upbeat tunes. Sometimes something punk/rock/alternative comes on and they all try to guess if it’s Mako’s influence. He never confirmed and Bolin never says that some of it’s in there just for Opal.

They all sing! Bolin is the loudest of course. Mako is the quietest. He and Opal are the most shy about it but she’s more open to singing louder thanks to Bolin’s praises and Korra’s encouragement.

Most of the expenses are paid for by Asami and Opal. Korra and Bolin don’t really care, they pitch in a bit. Mako kind of hates it, though he doesn’t say anything. He pays for as much as his and Bolin’s share as he can.

Mako and Asami do most of the driving.

Asami can be a little fast but is the best driver of the lot. She grew up building and fixing cars, she learned to drive before she could even get her permit. Of course she is the best.

Mako follows every rule there is, the car doesn’t move until everyone is buckled. But if there is a long stretch of road and no one is around?? Who's to say if the car is moving faster than it should. No matter who is in the passenger seat, he will do that thing where he puts his arm out to stop them if he has to break suddenly.

Korra is the worst! She’s full on turning in her seat to look in the back seat. Mako’s yelling at her to keep her eyes on the road, Bolin clutching his seatbelt and Opal, Asami who saw this coming, already has her hand on the wheel. If no one is on the road with her she sways the car to the music. Korra doesn’t drive often and she likes it that way.

Bolin isn’t as bad but he’s not great either. He has the music going, he’s in the middle of a conversation. One hand is on the wheel, the other is in a bag of snacks. He’s paying just enough attention not to hit the car in front of him. Good thing Opal and Mako are ever vigilant of where he has to turn.

Opal is more of a cautious driver. Checks the mirrors, makes sure everyone is buckled, keeps the volume of the music down. No one would suspect she’s the most prone to road rage. If the horn is being used it’s most likely Opal cursing out the moron who recklessly cut in front of her.

Mako and Korra are banned from riding in front with each other within hours of their trip. “Korra you just made the wrong turn. It’s gonna take thirty minutes, if not a whole hours to get back to the main road.” “Jeez will you relax, consider this a detour into a nice town.” “This town has “last place a group of friends was seen in” written all over it.” “Judgmental much? Where is your sense of adventure!”

They only attempt to drive through the night once. Asami takes her turn, Mako takes his turn, Bolin takes his turn and they spend an hour the next morning trying to figure out where they are and how to get back to the main road.

They only attempt to sleep in the car once. One of the boys was hit in the groin. There was a rancid fart that was obviously a crime against nature. Opal kept blinding people with her pen light she used to read with. Asami kept checking her phone. Bolin kept shifting. Korra tried to get them all to tell ghost stories, Bolin protested greatly. After Mako and Bolin (whom can sleep practically anywhere, even all cramped up) were the only ones to get any real sleep, they all agreed they’d splurge for a hotel room.

Bolin, Opal, Asami and Korra all quietly agreed that they’ll all just squeeze into one room because they didn’t want to make it awkward for Mako. Mako meanwhile is like “this is so much more cost effective.” They generally get those rooms with the two beds and the pullout couch if they can . If they can’t it’s usually Korra, Asami and Opal squished in one bed and the boys in the other. On occasion Korra claims a bed at the Fire Ferret Fortress and crashes with the boys after she makes a blanket fort out of it. Mako has on occasion bunked with Asami and Opal when Bolin and Korra get too rambunctious.

Bolin “Giant ball of yarn!!!!” Mako “We’re not stopping” Bolin, Korra, Opal, Asami chanting “giant yarn ball” until he finally gives in. They’re bored almost immediately only now Mako is keeping them there. If they wanted to see it so badily then he sure as hell going to learn why the stupid thing was even there in the first place.

Bolin gets carsick the most, mostly on winding mountain roads. Asami is close behind, neither of them are used to mountain roads. Mako gets carsick once and no one even knew until the last minute because he was quietly staring out the window until he told them to stop the car and had the door open before it was fully pulled over.

They pull into a rest stop and Korra is leaping out and running to the bathroom. Mako nearly pushes Opal and Asami into the bathroom with her because they need to use the buddy system! Who knows what creeps are lurking about, Korra we talked about this!

Of course It’s Mako who looks away for one second to find Bolin gone. It takes just a panicked second to find him (he’s in his 20’s now Mako, chill). Bolin is talking to a stranger who is standing too close for Mako’s comfort.

Something goes wrong with the car at some point resulting in having to fix it up on the side of the road. Korra wanted to stand outside with Asami but they all agreed they didn’t want to risk the attention two young women could draw so Mako stood out with his best scowl fixed. Mako also knows more about cars than the other three, most of his knowledge is learned from Asami. (Though most of his mechanical knowledge is for his bike.) Someone still pulls over and asks if they needed help. Mako’s the one that tells him no and puts himself between the man and the car/Asami. Bolin is the only one who thinks he seemed nice when they all are back on the road. The girls blame Mako and that’s valid.

C A M P I N G

Korra finally gets her ghost story time. They all learn that Bolin has good reason to hate this because despite Mako’s generally shit story telling skills, he’s great with ghost stories. And just scaring the shit out of his little brother. He leaves to get something from the car only to appear on the other side at the climax of Opal’s story. He’s pelted with marshmallows for it.

Asami swears she hears something that night. Bolin’s too wired from the ghost stories. Their whispers wake up Opal, which ends up waking Korra. They all get hyper alert. Mako’s dead to the world. They all huddle close to each other, putting Mako between them so he doesn't die separated from their cuddle pile.

They almost crash twice.

The first time Bolin and Korra were fucking around in the back seat. Opal got elbowed in the boob and Mako got kicked in the head. Mako was the one driving. Asami was the one that had scolded them this time around. Bolin and Korra kissed the back of Mako’s head and apologized. They did not kiss Opal’s boob.

The second time Bolin was driving and a drunk almost hit them causing Bolin to swerve to the roadside. The drunk had enough sense and conscience to pull over and check on them. Korra and Opal nearly launch themselves out of the car at him. Asami’s trying to comfort Bolin and prevent him from hyperventilating. Mako’s just as livid because they could have been hurt and Bolin’s terrified. But he reigns them in because he realizes they are quickly on the path of being the headline “group of young adults beat a drunk man on the side of the highway”.

If Korra is triggered or just has a bad night it’s really hard for her to stay in the car for long periods. So they take a lot of long breaks that day so she can walk out some of those nerves if she can.

Both Mako and Korra get flare ups, mostly when the weather suddenly shifts.

When her legs are doing bad Korra can hardly walk but it hurts just as bad to keep her legs all scrunched up. So she’s either in the front where she can get the most leg room or she has them stretched across the very back seat or across the lap of whoever is next to her.

Mako’s is a little easier for him to ignore. He can more or less drive with one arm but if it gets too bad it makes it hard for him to concentrate on the road or follow the directions. He still keeps his sling tucked away to help keep it still, but he rarely ever uses it.

Both of them are too stubborn about it and usually don’t bring it up until it’s hurting too bad to ignore.

They drive through a safari park.

Bolin did not heed the window warning and screamed when an ostrich head was suddenly through the window. A truck of hay drove past them and a heard of bison walked up to the road. They got stuck for nearly an hour when a particularly stubborn and lazy Emu parked itself in the middle of the road. They got lucky with the tiger that was laid right near the fence but could barely see the cheetah across her enclosure. They spend the rest of the day in the walk through portion.

They bar crawl in a big city. Mako remains sober, he didn’t really get a choice but he doesn’t mind too much. Asami and Opal don’t get that drunk, Bolin and Korra get smashed. On the way to their hotel, Bolin and Korra try to have a competition on who can lift Mako. They both win much to his disdain and embarrassment. Asami is in her own little world giving Opal a piggy back as they sing to whatever was playing in the last bar. Mako realizes they should have at least done this back home instead of a city they hardly knew. They all agree the next day that it was really dumb.

Bolin and Korra are always trying to wingman Mako. If he so much looks at a girl they’re like “don’t work, I’ve got your back” and he has to desperately try and reel them back. Asami and Opal are much more subtle and successful about it. Mako never keeps any of the numbers.

The only time Mako gets a number on his own is with a guy he didn’t realize was flirting with him until he was given the guy’s number. Cue quiet day for Mako as he reflects on shit he spent the whole time pushing down as a teenager. (Because Mako knows on some level he just spent so long pushing shit down that it’s second nature. And truth be told he had been thinking about it a lot more since Korra and Asami came out and started dating. Holy shit I’m bi??? He doesn’t mean to say it out loud. The girls are actually kind of surprised. Bolin really isn’t.) He doesn’t keep the number.

They absolutely hit up a beach and camp in the sand. Korra found and caught a crab but Bolin had instantly became attached to it. They end up letting it go. Opal and Bolin go hunting for seashells. Bolin adds many to ever growing collection of things. They nearly all get drunk around the bonfire they made.

Korra pokes and tries to get Mako to open up a little about his revelation in the car but he gets embarrassed and shrugs it off. They tell him they’ll don’t think of him any differently, which, duh. Bolin gets them all started on saying how much they love Mako. They do, of course, but they also all say it because they know how embarrassed he gets. His face is absolutely burning and he tries to walk off into the ocean before Bolin drags him back. Mako knew he would.

They most definitely go to the aquarium the next day. They spend nearly the whole day in there.

Bolin just wants to share a romantic kiss with Opal with some serene nature background.

Korra shares this sentiment.

Mako’s tired of having to take pictures of his friends kissing in nature, he just wants to enjoy the waterfall, guys please, no more pictures. Why do you need me to do it? Why can you take the pictures for each other?

Opal takes the most pictures of nature. Bolin takes the most selfies and gathers the most rocks. He’s got nearly a whole bag by the end of their trip.

On their last stretch they hit up an amusement park.

Opal loves the ferris wheel the most. Bolin decidedly does not. He clings to her every time they move and the compartment rocks.

It’s not surprising that Asami enjoys the fastest rollercoaster they have. It is a bit surprising that Mako is right there with her when she tries to drag them back in line for another go.

They all do the bumper cars numerous times.

They all have a competition to see who can win the largest stuffed animal. Mako wins. He gives the absolutely giant Ninja Turtle to Opal because he knows she was trying to win it for Bolin. Bolin gives his little jellyfish keychain to Mako in return. He absolutely attached it to his keys.

They all win as many toys as they can to give to the kids back home.

When they are finally all back home they agree the trip was one they’ll always remember and treasure. They also agree to never do it again and Asami swears she’ll buy the plane ticket herself if they ever decide to go anywhere again.

They do the same thing the very next year.

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