#And celebrating raucously together today | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

northern-passage · 2 years

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i’ve written a little hunter/lea pov swap, taking place a few years after their assignment together, sometime before keld, in a weird place between jealousy and resentment.

content warnings for: heavy alcohol use, sexual content, emetophobia, (mild) body horror

—

The job went well.

You probably shouldn’t feel quite so surprised - or relieved - at your success, but when you heard the word vampire you were bracing for the worst of it. But… it went well. And now you’re celebrating, the locals paying for your food and drinks, and covering the price of your rooms for the night.

You stare down at your drink, slowly rotating the glass in your hands. You’re pretty sore, though overall your injuries are relatively minor - you got a few nasty scratches on your side, but nothing you can’t handle.

You and Lea have just finished a rather large meal, a comfortable silence falling between the two of you, Lea leaned back in the booth across from you and people watching as the townsfolk celebrate raucously in the parlor. It’s been a while since you’ve had a good, hearty meal like that, and you feel quite content, even despite the occasional drunk coming over and bumping into your table, needling you for details and trying to look into your hood.

It’s tolerable. You’d prefer this over being stoned and chased out of town - with small towns like this, it’s always one extreme or the other. You’ll take the annoying drunks over the stones any day.

Lea clears their throat then, and you raise an eyebrow at them expectantly as they lean forward and press their elbows to the table.

“You alright if I head up?” they ask, glancing sideways as they do.

You raise your eyebrow even higher.

“Yeah. ‘S fine,” you say slowly, crossing your arms over your chest. You’re surprised it took them this long to ask.

They give you a tight smile, resting their palms on the table.

“You going to stay down here?”

You nod.

“You’ll be alright by yourself?” they press.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, your voice harder this time.

They purse their lips, before nodding.

“Good work, today,” Lea starts, and you roll your eyes, earning yourself an indignant scoff from them. “I mean it.” They pat their hand against the table a few times, glancing sideways again.

“Just go, Lea,” you say with a sigh.

“Yeah. Don’t stay up too late,” they say, and now you scoff at them, but they dart out of the booth before you can make a smart retort.

You watch them cut across the parlor, heading for the bar, straight to the woman they’ve been making eyes at all night.

You watch them for a few moments as they exchange some words, narrowing your eyes from inside your hood. You reach for your glass and take a long drink.

The woman had been clinging to Lea earlier in the evening, but was at least courteous enough to let you alone while you ate. You had spoken with her when you first arrived in town - she seems to have been the one delegated by the town to be your point of contact, and she set you up at the inn here and helped you gather information at the start of the job.

Her and Lea had hit it off rather handsomely. Much to your annoyance.

You sink down into the booth, your face twitching at the thought. You can’t help but steal another glance over at them, just as Lea starts to lead her up the stairs. You glare at them from inside your hood - until Lea glances back down, your eyes meeting for a brief moment before you quickly look away.

You hastily take another drink, finishing off your glass and setting it down on the table harder than necessary.

You knew when you got two separate rooms here that it was going to end this way. It’s a luxury you can rarely afford, and Lea takes advantage of it when they can. You don’t blame Lea - they have their needs. You have yours. For you, it’s something you can only relieve back at the stronghold. No one here would touch you.

You glance back up the stairs again, but Lea and the woman are gone.

You stay in the booth for a while longer, nursing a few more glasses, but eventually the stares get to be a bit too much. Without Lea here, no one seems to have the nerve to approach you - so instead they just stare. You know these people are harmless - Lea would never have left you alone if otherwise - but that doesn’t lessen your irritation. Your high spirits from earlier have all but evaporated, leaving you with a sour taste in your mouth, and you push yourself out of the booth, swaying a bit on your feet as you shove your way towards the stairs.

You grasp at the banister and drag yourself up, blinking as you lean against the railing. How many drinks did you have…

You grunt as you reach the top of the stairs, stumbling across the terrace and down the dark hall towards your room. You fumble with your keys, taking a few sloppy attempts before you manage to unlock the door and stagger inside. You slam the door closed behind you, before throwing yourself down onto the bed. You stay unmoving like that, burying your face in the pillows until the room stops spinning so much.

Eventually you roll onto your back, slowly forcing yourself to sit up. You pull off your boots, kicking them across the room as you tug off your cloak and throw it to the floor. You run your hands over your face, rubbing at your eyes and taking a deep breath.

You pull at your shirt then, tentatively pressing a hand to the bandages wrapped around your torso. Lea had patched you up themself - no healers in this town, and you’ll always trust Lea over any random surgeon. You had both been in a bit of a panic when you got back earlier, unsure of the extent of your injuries, though you had insisted you were fine. Understandably, Lea didn’t believe you. You got bit in the arm, too, but you managed to get the creature off of you before it could really latch on. It was a younger vampire, and it was alone - thank the gods - and while you had a rough start, the two of you took care of it rather efficiently.

You pull up your shirt again, wincing as you touch the dark stains seeping through the white bandages, tracing the outline of each jagged claw mark with your finger.

You glance over at the bloody rags on the corner table, at Lea’s little medical bag still open and scattered all over the place. You imagine Lea there again, cursing at you as they scrambled to stitch you up, both of you breathless and jumpy from adrenaline. You close your eyes, pressing your hand to your side, feeling the wet heat from beneath the bandages, and you imagine Lea’s hands on you, the bite of the needle as they started the sutures. Their hand grabbing at your hip, holding you steady, the way they had crouched on the floor beside you, on their knees and blinking up at you when it was all done, your blood on their hands.

You imagine Lea in their room with that woman.

You inhale sharply, opening your eyes and scowling down at your hand, gripping your side, fresh blood bright red as it pools under the bandages. Your jaw clenches, and you shake your head, but you can’t get the image out of your mind - on the floor, on their knees in front of you - in front of someone else. The image blurs.

The room is spinning again, but you ignore that, your hand going back to your side, your eyes fluttering closed again. It’s not your hand - it’s Lea’s hand, warm and bloody and steady as they hold you open, their fingers curling at the edge, their dark eyes flashing as they press into you, hot pain crawling along the sutures and radiating up your arm, forcing you to slump back onto the bed. Their hands digging into you as the needle pierces your skin, pulling the pieces back together around their fingers, stitching carefully around their touch, their hands tightening inside you as they lean forward to kiss your stomach.

You blink up at the ceiling, swallowing hard, shame and embarrassment making you hesitate before you slide your hand from the bloody bandages and reach lower. You’re breathing hard, from the pain or from the imagined Lea between your legs, you can’t be sure. Probably both.

You fumble to undo your belt, slipping your hand beneath your waistband, and the room is spinning faster, your other hand grabbing at a fistful of blankets and sheets. You see them looking up at you, and you imagine them with their hair down, imagine the feeling of it brushing against your stomach, your thighs, their hands on your hips.

Your hand quickens, your hips bucking without Lea’s hands actually there to hold you in place, your body trembling under their imagined touch. You bite your lip, muffling your pathetic sounds, but it’s not enough to stop their name from escaping you, a breathless whisper - and you have to stop, pulling your hand back, a sudden revulsion overwhelming you, their name ringing in your ears, a guilty confession in the empty room.

You sit up quickly, too quickly, grimacing at the pain in your side, and your vision swims - you’re barely able to make it to the washbasin across the room in time before you vomit. You lean over the porcelain, your legs shaking, and you lay your arms around the edge of the basin, pressing your face into your elbow, your breath harsh against the bile burning in your throat.

“Fuck,” is all you can say.

After a few moments you lift your head to glare at yourself in the mirror, your lip curling in disgust.

You can blame it on the alcohol. You drank too much, that’s all. That’s all. Maybe you’ll even get lucky, and the alcohol won’t let you remember this in the morning.

—

The job went well.

Lea is pleased - and relieved. It was a bit touch and go at the start, but the vampire didn’t stand a chance; it was young and inexperienced, and it was out here all alone. Vampires don’t survive on their own.

Lea shifts in their seat, leaning back and peering around the parlor. It’s loud in here, and full of people eating and dancing and celebrating - small towns like this always like to celebrate. Give them any reason and they’ll drink and eat until morning. Lea is grateful for it, mainly because the celebratory mood leads to generosity - the townsfolk offered to pay for their drinks, and their meal, and their rooms, at least for tonight. Can’t say no to that.

Lea reaches for their drink, finishing the glass before eyeing their partner across the booth. Empty plates and a few other empty glasses are piled up in the center of the table between them, and Lea watches them as they stare down into their own drink, slowly turning it in their hands. They seem content, at least.

They’re always hard to read, with that fucking hood on.

Their injuries don’t seem to be bothering them, anyways. It was all Lea could do, without a healer in this town. It’s not the first time they’ve had to stitch them up. It won’t be the last. Lea flexes their hands under the table, fidgeting with their ring.

They turn away then, before they get caught staring.

Lea glances over the parlor again, amused by a few nearby drunks - before catching the eye of the woman from earlier. Her name is Sabe - Lea knows this, though they pretended not to, for some reason. Pretended to forget, in front of the hunter. That woman. She’s been the point of contact here, setting them up at the inn when they first arrived, as well as answering a lot of Lea’s questions and helping them gather information from the other townsfolk at the start of the job.

She seems rather keen on Lea.

Sabe smiles, leaning against the bar, tilting her head, long dark hair falling around her shoulders as she laughs at something Lea can’t hear.

Lea considers her for a moment, before smiling back.

They sit up a bit in the booth then, before stealing another look across the table again.

Lea is certain the hunter already suspects - nevermind their brusque attitude towards the woman, the two have done this song and dance many times before. But it’s never easier. Never less embarrassing. In fact, it gets harder every time. Lea hesitates more and more. But... It’s different for the hunter - at the stronghold, there’s always someone passing through they can slip away with, and there’s no one there to ask questions or judge them for it. Lea can’t do that. Or maybe they just won’t.

At least this way, the hunter is the only one passing judgment. Lea already knows what they think of them.

And yet… And yet.

Lea glances across the room at Sabe again, still at the bar, still waiting expectantly. Lea knows they’ll regret not going over there, as pathetic as it sounds. They glance back over at the hunter. Lea knows they’ll regret going over there, too - as pathetic as it sounds.

Lea clears their throat then, pressing their elbows to the table, leaning towards their partner.

They look up from their glass and just raise an eyebrow at them.

“You alright if I head up?” Lea says carefully. A question. Or is it an offer? Lea’s not sure, either - they always ask, in some roundabout way. As if the hunter would ever tell them no. Sometimes Lea wishes they would. They have to look away for a moment, glancing sideways, resisting the urge to fidget with their ring. When they don’t respond right away, Lea forces themself to look back.

Their eyebrow rises even higher, and Lea can see their mouth twitch - a smirk, or a scowl, Lea can’t tell.

“Yeah. ‘S fine,” they say slowly, crossing their arms and ducking into their hood.

Lea glances sideways again, a shameful heat creeping over them.

“You going to stay down here?”

The hunter just nods.

“You’ll be alright by yourself?” Lea can’t help but ask. But that’s not really what they’re asking, not in their roundabout way.

“I’ll be fine,” the hunter snaps, giving Lea their answer.

They purse their lips, twisting their ring around their thumb, before nodding. It’s not the answer they wanted.

“Good work, today,” Lea starts then, because they have to say something else. They have to. Any excuse to stay at the table with them a little while longer. To give the hunter another chance to give them the right answer.

But the hunter just rolls their eyes at them.

Lea scoffs, tapping restlessly against the table, glancing across the room. Sabe is still waiting. Would the hunter wait for them, too?

“I mean it,” Lea presses. Desperate.

“Just go, Lea,” the hunter sighs then, and Lea relents.

“Yeah. Don’t stay up too late,” Lea stupidly blurts, before bolting out of the booth, unable to stand it for another second longer.

Lea lets out a string of swears as they make their way across the parlor - what the fuck was that?

“Gods damn you,” they curse, resisting the urge to look back at the table. “You idiot. Gods damn you.”

They shake their head and collect themself for a moment, running a hand over their hair and taking a deep breath as they step up to the bar.

“Lea!” Sabe slides up next to them, smiling warmly, thankfully oblivious to any of their irritation.

“Hey, Sabe,” Lea says, leaning towards her to be heard over the din of the bar. Sabe is quite delighted by the closeness, reaching out to put a hand on Lea’s arm, blinking up at them expectantly. The touch soothes some of Lea’s nerves, brings them back into the room. Distracts them, from the golden eyes burning at their back.

“Sabe…” Lea trails off a moment, their jaw clenching despite themself. They lean even closer, pressing their lips to her ear.

“Sabe, let’s go upstairs,” they say, and it gets the reaction they hoped for - her hand tightening around their arm, her face flushing pink as she turns her head, licking her lips as she leans into them.

“You’re not even going to ask me to dance, Handler Chen?” she says then, mock indignation wavering as she fails to suppress her little nervous smile. Cute.

“Is that what you want?” Lea says, tilting their head at her, returning her smile with their own. Lea’s not exactly in a dancing mood - and there’s no point in acting like this is anything more than what it is.

“No…” she says softly, glancing sideways, blushing even deeper now, her hand still on Lea’s arm.

“Will they…” she starts suddenly, and it’s like a slap to the face, Lea going rigid against the bar as Sabe stares past them, across the parlor. “Will they be alright, all alone?”

“They’ll be fine,” Lea says brusquely. Sabe does notice that. Lea clears their throat, shaking their head. “They’re alright. They rather like all the attention,” Lea adds dryly.

That gets a laugh out of Sabe, and Lea laughs a little too, glancing down at their hands.

“Okay,” Sabe says after a few moments. “I want to go upstairs.”

She reaches for their hand then, and Lea lets her take it, lets her lead them a few steps from the bar before they lead her to the stairs.

Her hand is warm and soft and clammy, her steps quiet behind them as they ascend the stairs, single file, reaching the terrace and Lea hesitates, even as Sabe walks by, a gentle pull on their arm as she says their name. Lea glances down into the parlor, finding those familiar golden eyes watching them. They look away just as quick, hiding in that godsdamn fucking hood.

Lea turns away, catching up with Sabe, and they’ve hardly passed into the dim tavern corridor before they take her face in their hands and kiss her, pressing her against the door as she slips her hands beneath their shirt. The taste, the touch - it’s enough to forget the familiar golden eyes. For a little while.

#intricate rituals and all that #the cw makes it sound more intense than it is i think but i don't want to blindside anyone #i always like doing these with lea cus they're the one with the most going on in their head at all times #and it's interesting to see especially with the hunter how they're perceived versus what they're thinking and trying to say #honestly this doesn't even have to only be for romantic hunter/lea i imagine this is something that could have happened #at least once as two lonely people stuck together... maybe the jealousy/desire passed for some but not for others #lea chen #the hunter #nsft #snippets

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loorain · 6 months

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Sims 4 Fontenot Legacy - A Nice Surprise

The day before Sigrid and Robin's wedding, all is peaceful as Sigrid gets an opportunity to sleep in just a little. That is, until there's a knock on the door.

Sigrid: Who could that be?

Sigrid: Anya! What are you doing here?

Anya: Well hello to you too!

Sigrid chuckles, pulling her into a hug.

Sigrid: Well, hi. Can't blame me for being shocked to see you, especially this early in the morning.

Anya: I have a good reason for it.

Sigrid: Which is...?

Anya: Well, as it's one day before your big day, I'm going to take you out to celebrate!

Sigrid: Celebrate? I mean, isn't a wedding celebration enough?

Anya: Weddings celebrate the couple and the joining of family. This celebration is for you.

Sigrid: Me? Gee Anya, I don't know about-

Anya: Now before you turn me down, I want you to take this.

Anya pulls out a gift, handing it to Sigrid.

Sigrid: Wha- Anya, what is this?

Anya: A new dress, paired with a couple more special accessories. Now I want you to get dressed, do your makeup, make yourself look absolutely stunning, and then come with me. Robin's already in on the surprise and will take care of the girls, so don't worry about them. Today is all about you.

Sigrid: I... wow... thank you. I'm not used to all of this. Guess I can't back out now.

Anya: That's right! Come on, it'll be fun, just trust me, kay?

Sigrid: Okay, I trust you.

Anya: Well hurry inside and get ready!

Sigrid gets ready and is whisked away by Anya to an undisclosed location. When she arrives, Sigrid witnesses an entire space fully decorated, gifts piled up, and a delicious spread of food. She's amazed to see all of this, to say the least.

Sigrid: Oh my- what is all of this?

Before Sigrid can get an answer to that, sims begin piling into the space, family from all sides here to celebrate. Sigrid can only take in all the festivities for a moment, in awe to see such a collection of family here, both old and new faces.

In all the excitement, Sigrid hadn't even noticed that Sabrina and Scarlett had also arrived, both wearing matching colors to her sash. She first spots Sabrina, who's chatting with Anya as if all of this is just a casual thing.

Sigrid: Okay, don't act like this is normal! Did you guys plan all of this?

Sabrina chuckles, turning to look at Sigrid.

Sabrina: Well Anya was the mastermind behind all of this, but we all pitched in.

Anya: I know you didn't really want all of the raucousness of a bachelorette party, but you've been through a lot to get to this moment, so I figured what better way to celebrate you than bring all the ladies in the family together to celebrate sisterhood with a bridal shower. Well, ladies plus Sabrina.

Sabrina side-eyes Anya playfully, acknowledging the validating comment while also seeing it for the good-natured jest it is.

Sabrina: Har-har, I can be a lady when needed.

Anya: And thank goodness for that, because we need you right now!

Sigrid laughs at the two cousins' banter, her heart swelling.

Sigrid: You guys are amazing. This is amazing.

Sabrina: Well enjoy it because you deserve it! Now go say hi to all your guests!

Anya: Yeah, go have fun girly!

Sigrid nods and happily heads off to greet her guests, some of whom she is meeting for the first time as they officially welcome her into the family. It's a tad overwhelming, but equally wonderful to be surrounded by so much love. Thankfully, there are familiar faces that help make things easier.

Matilda: Well well! So my big blockhead brother still managed to convince you to marry him.

Sigrid laughs.

Sigrid: Great to see you, Matilda. Love the new look!

Matilda: Well I had to upgrade my wardrobe. Just wait until you see my outfit for tomorrow. I'll try not to upstage you, but no promises.

Sigrid: I wouldn't expect anything less! How's your mom and brothers?

Matilda: Ugh, don't get me started. Let's just say I'm glad my teen years are almost over. I'm ready for my own space. No snotty boys allowed.

Sigrid: I understand, but try to cherish the moments as well. They'll be the distant past before you know it.

Matilda: Yeah, I know. Just glad to have some feminine energy join the family. It's nice to have a sister.

Sigrid: Well we have a lifetime to spend hanging out together if you'd like. Hanging around you might help keep me young!

Matilda: Trust me, dealing with my nieces and brother, you're going to need it. We'll take care of each other.

Sigrid: Thanks, sis.

Speaking of sisters, Sigrid spots and greets Yolanda with a big hug.

Sigrid: Yolanda! You made it!

Yolanda: Wouldn't miss it for the world! The girls are around here somewhere too. Figured it'd be nice for them to get out of the house and meet some other ladies. You look wonderful, by the way.

Sigrid: Thanks, all Anya's doing. I'll have to find the girls after this. Miss the boys too. How are they doing?

Yolanda's face sours at just the thought.

Yolanda: Ugh, it's just getting harder. Sergio communicates less and less and won't let Kirk see his brother much these days. He's starting to spiral mentally and it's so frustrating because it feels like I'm failing him, but what can I do when his father is being such a pain? Caring for three kids is hard enough, but trying to co-parent with Virginia's ex? He's insufferable at times.

Sigrid: Hmm, you know, Sergio is Anya's ex as well. Maybe she can help you. If nothing else, she can give you some context and additional information to help deal with him. Maybe with time, things will improve.

Yolanda: I hope so. I'll have to talk to her... oh, what am I doing? This is your day! Don't let me bring the mood down, go and enjoy your last day as an unmarried woman! We're all excited for the big day tomorrow!

Sigrid and Yolanda aren't the only ones who end up having a deep conversation that day, however.

Scarlett: Anya went all out on this place, didn't she? What a lovely idea for Sigrid.

Sabrina: Yeah, I think Sigrid likes this a lot, even if she wasn't expecting it or even thought she really wanted it. And I mean, it's always nice to have something to celebrate. An impending wedding is the perfect excuse.

Scarlett: Speaking of weddings... how are you and Beau doing?

Sabrina can't help but laugh at their mother's attempt at being subtle.

Sabrina: Mom, you can just just say it. You wanna know if Beau and I are getting to that point in our relationship or not.

Scarlett: Well...?

Sabrina: Well... At Laks and Tabatha's wedding, Tabatha said she saw me and Beau getting married next in our friend group. I can see why. Beau is a great partner. He's attentive, understanding, and communicative. Juno loves him, too. I know he's more than willing to officially be Juno's stepdad.

Scarlett: I'm hearing a lot about other's perception of him, and very little about yours. How are you feeling in this relationship?

Sabrina: I love Beau. I was just saying all this to give perspective to my thought process at that moment when Tabatha brought it up. It got me thinking... maybe she's right. Maybe we should just do it.

Scarlett: I wished you'd say it a little more romantic-like rather than say you should "just do it".

Sabrina: Mom, I didn't mean-

Scarlett: Marriage is a big deal. It's not for everyone. It wasn't for me. That doesn't mean it's not for you, but you need to be absolutely sure. You want my opinion? I think Beau's the best guy you've ever been involved with. He's stuck with you through a lot of crap. I know for a fact he loves you with his entire heart. The only thing stopping him from getting on one knee this very moment is you. He respects that you need to take things slow. He's never going to force you into anything you don't want to do, and that includes marrying him. He already sees Juno as his, even with Marquise involved. But, my opinion doesn't really matter, so I'll ask this one more time: how are you feeling in this relationship?

Sabrina takes in Scarlett's words, their demeanor softening as they think about their boyfriend and all he's been to them. A small smile forms on their face.

Sabrina: I... wanna propose to Beau. He's been going on my timeline for so long, it feels right to display my love for him. And you know me, I've never been traditional. I'm sure Beau would propose if I let him know that's the next step I want, but I think it's better the other way around in this context.

Scarlett grins at her child, hearing sure words come out of their mouth for the first time in this conversation. Sabrina suddenly feels nervous and shy, realizing the earnest expression on their mother's face.

Sabrina: I-I mean, it'll probably still be a while before I do it, you know? I mean, there's so much else going on, with the wedding and upcoming birthdays, and Marquise texted me recently saying we'll need to have a chat, I don't know what about, maybe the arrangement for the summer or-

Scarlett: Sabrina, breathe. I'm not telling you to propose tomorrow. You could propose 50 years from now and I'd be perfectly fine with that. I'm just saying, no matter what you have my blessing. Okay?

Sabrina: Yeah... okay. Thanks, Mom.

Scarlett: Anything for you, hun.

In the end, Sigrid's bridal shower was filled with love, good advice, and good memories. With the wedding tomorrow, Sigrid didn't realize just how much she needed the fellowship of her family, both old and new. Now she feels more ready than ever to marry Robin and seal her future forever.

#sims 4 fontenot legacy #sims 4 legacy challenge #sims 4 legacy #sims 4 modded #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 #ts4 simblr

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sassyshoulderangel319 · 5 years

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New Year’s Day

So... I’ve been playing waaay too much Mr. Love Queen’s Choice/Love and Producer (whatever you wanna call it) aaaaand... this happened. Yeah. Enjoy! It’s 4,651 words so... enjoy.

I woke up confused. Where was I? How did I get here? A stray thought that drifted through my brain wondered why I was even in a bed. When I pressed that one further, all my memory supplied was a rather confused, “Sofa???”

I slapped my forehead with the heel of my hand.

I was in Victor’s father’s villa. I’d been stranded at the airport due to bad weather and Victor had found me and picked me up. Which was kind of him—if a bit random.

I appeared to be in a guest room. It was sparsely furnished with a bed, bedside table, and dresser. The paint and quilt were all neutral colors. My suitcase was in front of the dresser. So that’s where the servant guy took it last night, I thought distractedly.

I caught a glimpse of a note on the bedside table. Leaning over, I picked it up. To celebrate New Year’s, how about we go shopping! Come find me when you’re awake! ~Aunt Grace

Victor’s aunt wanted to take me shopping?

At that moment, I got a call from Victor. I answered groggily, mind still foggy from sleep. He accused me of sleeping in late on New Year’s Day despite staying up late the night before—and the fact that it was only 8:30AM. In no way, shape, or form “sleeping in.”

He didn’t fool me when he said the breakfast in the kitchen for me was just the product of him “cooking a little extra” as he said. It made me smile. There were moments—like last night on the sofa—where he showed he could be incredibly kind. And maybe he did actually kind of care about me.

I mean, he did bring me home to his family. They had the wrong impression about our relationship but they were so nice and I was just awkward and embarrassed enough that I didn’t want to correct them for fear of being rude.

After hanging up, I climbed out of bed and quickly changed into a new set of clothes. I guessed Victor had carried me to this room. He’d tucked me in wearing the clothes that I’d fallen asleep on the sofa in. Which, I supposed, was respectful of him. Not that I particularly expected or wanted him to change me into my pajamas or just leave me in bed in my underwear.

Once I was dressed with my hair brushed and pulled back in a slightly messy bun, I left the guest room. My toothbrush and travel tube of toothpaste were loosely clutched in my left hand.

I’m not sure how long I wandered the halls of the villa with no clue where I was or how to get to the kitchen.

“There you are!” a voice exclaimed from behind me. I turned. Aunt Grace. “Lost, darling?”

I felt my ears heat up. “A little,” I admitted. “Victor said he cooked a little extra and left it for me for breakfast in the kitchen. But failed to mention how to get to the kitchen from where I woke up.”

Aunt Grace chuckled, already leading me back the way I came. She clucked her tongue. “That boy,” she muttered in amusement. I wondered vaguely just how mortified Victor would be at hearing his aunt refer to him as a boy at his age. If I wasn’t mistaken he was about two years shy of thirty. “You know, I’ve never seen him behave the way he does with you.”

What, cold and bullying? I thought. I didn’t dare say that out loud. His father knew he was a bully, but did Aunt Grace? “What do you mean?” I asked instead.

Aunt Grace smiled. “He’s much softer and gentler with you. He tries to hide it under a certain brusque formality but I know him better than that. He looks at you like you’re the world. The moon casting its light on new-fallen snow. Sunset over the ocean. It’s the same way his father looked at his mother when she was still with us.”

My whole face was burning, the heat traveling down my neck and squeezing around my heart. “Uh…” was all I could say. How on Earth was I supposed to respond to that?

But Aunt Grace just chuckled again. We’d reached the kitchen. “Don’t worry, dear. I won’t tell him I said so to you.”

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“Oh! Looks like there’s just enough breakfast here for you. Why don’t you go ahead and eat while I arrange for us to go shopping?”

“Sure,” I said. My voice was a little squeaky. Aunt Grace handed me the food Victor made and whisked out of the kitchen. She was a graceful woman—her name was fitting. She’d definitely aged well.

I ate distractedly, taking in the expensive kitchen with curious eyes. I wasn’t the most talented cook in the world but I enjoyed it. So looking at the world-class kitchen made me slightly envious. I bet that extractor fan never busted and flooded the villa with steam the way mine did my apartment…

Once I finished eating I brushed my teeth in the kitchen sink and went to find my shoes. Had I left them by the door last night when we came in? They were particularly sodden… my coat had been dusted with snow too…

“Good morning, young lady,” Victor’s father greeted.

“Good morning, sir,” I replied with a yelp at being startled. “Happy New Year.”

He beamed warmly at me. “And to you as well,” he said. “I trust you slept well?”

“Extremely. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. It was Victor who tucked you in.” He was still smiling.

As I suspected. “How kind of him.”

“Yeah… his mother taught him well.”

If that was the case, the business world must have taught him to be a bully. “Everything I’ve heard about her sounds like she was a wonderful woman. I am truly sorry for your loss. My father passed away recently so I know some of what it’s like to lose someone you love.”

“Thank you, my dear.” He noticed I’d been trying to subtly look around. “Have you lost something?”

“Uh… I can’t remember where I left my shoes.”

“Oh I’m sure the housekeeper put them in the mud room.”

“The what?”

“The mud room. The room set aside to house dirty shoes and wet coats.”

“Oh.” I thought of my tiny apartment back in Loveland—it wasn’t big enough to have a whole extra room for keeping muck out of the rest of the apartment. I just took off my shoes on a towel at the door and hung my coat on the rack next to it to keep the water and mud and dirt in one place.

“Is there any reason you need them? You’re not leaving us already, are you?”

“No, no! Ms. Grace is taking me shopping.”

That made Victor’s father laugh heartily. “Ah. I should have known. Well. I hope you ladies have fun and enjoy yourselves. Victor will be home by dinner so I hope you two return in time for us all to eat together.”

“Me too. I’d like that. You’ve all been very gracious to me.”

“Come. Let’s find your shoes.”

*****

I was playing the piano when the front door opened with a flurry of snow and then clicked shut. I glanced over my shoulder to see Victor handing a snow-dappled coat and scarf to a servant and toeing out of his shoes. Quickly I turned back to the keyboard in front of me like I saw nothing. As far as I’d seen, he hadn’t caught me looking. For once.

Aunt Grace and his father were lounging on the sofa behind me, playing the part of the appreciative audience perfectly.

“Victor, darling, come sit down and rest a moment before dinner,” Aunt Grace invited. I ignored them and kept playing. Though, my fingers hitched and messed up a chord slightly from the distraction. I played a little louder so I wouldn’t hear his response.

“I trust you ladies had a fun shopping trip,” he said.

Aunt Grace laughed—loudly and raucously. Like she was indulging in a private joke Victor wasn’t part of. “Oh indeed we did. Sweetheart—” Her hand landed on my shoulder. I tried not to stop playing but the contact startled me and I faltered. “—you should wear the blouse you bought today for dinner!”

“Oh. Um. Alright,” I said awkwardly.

“But do keep playing until it’s time to eat,” Victor’s father put in. “You play so beautifully.”

I backed up a few measures and continued to play. “Okay.”

*****

Earlier…

*****

I glanced at Aunt Grace as we wandered the mall. “So… is Victor… a perfectionist?”

Aunt Grace laughed heartily. “Oh, darling, ‘perfectionism’ is too kind a word for my nephew’s behavior.” She patted my shoulder. “His mother taught him to do his work as perfect as possible the first time so he’d have more time to do other things afterward. It’s how he got his company so successful in such a short time. He was only twenty when he founded LFG.”

Right. I’d done that math. “Well he certainly took that advice to heart.”

“Oh, my dear, I hope he’s not too hard on you.”

I paused, choosing my next words carefully. “He pushes me to do my best and reach my ‘full potential’,” I decided on. “Although, sometimes I think our definitions of ‘full potential’ are different.” I watched Aunt Grace examine beautiful crystal knick-knacks I was too clumsy to own with a keen eye as she listened to me

She laughed—softly this time. “Yes I imagine they are,” she said. “You know, you’re the first girl he’s brought home. He’s never brought anyone home—except his assistant when there’s ‘too much work to do’ and he simply ‘can’t take a break, Aunt Grace’.” She said her emphasized words in a rather dramatic impression of Victor’s deep voice. I wanted to feel too professional in my relationship with her nephew to laugh but… she had him down so perfectly that I couldn't help it.

“Sounds just like him,” I remarked.

“Well. I have known him rather longer than you,” she teased.

“Indeed,” I agreed without hesitation. “By the way, those pictures you showed me of when he was young—I’m surprised how much he hasn’t changed. He was quite a handsome boy.”

“Oh yes. He got the best of both his parents, the lucky child. Mother’s captivating eyes, father’s hair and jaw.” She clicked her tongue again. “Lucky duck, that one.”

I nodded, completely incapable of disagreeing with her because I didn’t.

But she wasn’t quite done. “Although, he had a softer face as a child. His cheekbones weren’t as pronounced and his jaw was rounder when he was a boy. Still. We all knew he’d grow into a handsome man.” She picked up a flowing blouse from a rack and held it up to my torso. “Oh, my dear, you must try this on! It would look so fetching on you!”

I took the hanger from her automatically. “Okay…”

She handed me two more of the same blouse in different colors. One maroon and the other navy. The first was a gentle sky blue.

“Can I ask you another question?” I asked.

“You may.”

“Victor… it seems like he can do anything and everything. Cook, swim, ballroom dance, ride horses, manage a massive business… is there anything he can’t do?” I picked at a fingernail.

“He doesn’t play the piano. His mother was an accomplished pianist but he never took to it the way he did cooking or dancing or riding horses. There are several things he can’t do but that’s the most noteworthy one.” She gave me a gentle smile. “Do you play?”

I nodded. “I do. I’ve played the piano since I was a little girl.”

She clucked her tongue happily this time. “Well then! You should play when we get back! Since poor Victor lost his mother that beautiful instrument has been neglected in the corner. Oh, my brother keeps it tuned and polished but no one plays it anymore. It’s been dreadfully quiet.”

I nodded again. “Okay. I’ll play.”

*****

Currently...

*****

“Yeah, shopping was fun,” I agreed quietly, still playing.

“You know, it’s lovely to hear this room full of music again,” Victor’s father remarked casually from somewhere behind me.

“Indeed,” Victor said, just loud enough for me to hear. I heard the sofa cushions give as someone stood. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

I heard Victor leave. My ability to complete the song improved significantly without his eyes on the back of my neck, judging and scrutinizing every chord and note. The tense muscles in my back relaxed. Why did he have such a power over me? I knew he was technically my boss and that gave him power, but I shouldn’t have been so nervous. He was just a man, after all.

A ridiculously handsome, smart, cold, sharp, sassy man whose eyes could trap me with a single look and whose voice made me dizzy if I listened too hard.

I completed the piece with a long build up the scale and then a single final chord ringing into the silence. I smiled. Still got it. I hadn’t played in a while because of how busy I was with work all the time and how many times my neighbors complained about me playing too loud—I tended to defer to the cello to be quieter—but I could still do it.

Victor’s father and Aunt Grace clapped. I stood and gave them an embarrassed bow.

They froze mid-clap. I blinked.

Victor reappeared at the door between the living room and kitchen. I opened my mouth to ask why he’d decided to stop time now of all times, but he cut me off. Which wasn’t surprising. “I just want you to know that my father hasn’t smiled that big since my mother died,” he said.

“Oh. I, uh…” I began, but fizzled out.

He crossed the room and set his hands on my shoulders, forcing me to pay attention to him. Which I was doing anyway because he’d captured me with that look of his. “You brought music back into this house—the kind of which you can’t just hire a musician to bring. Music that stems from love and pure enjoyment,” he continued. There was a brief pause. “You may be an idiot sometimes, but you made my father smile in a way I haven’t seen in ten years. And I thank you for that.” He leaned down, planted a kiss on my forehead, and whisked out of the room long enough to restart time without him just appearing in the middle of the living room.

That being said, he reappeared in the doorway seconds later. “Let’s eat, shall we?” He leaned against the doorframe on one shoulder—be still my frantically beating heart—and waved behind him toward the kitchen.

“Yes! Of course!” Aunt Grace agreed. She set her hand on my arm. “Why don’t you go get changed for dinner, darling? My husband’s on his way. We won’t start without you.”

“Oh. Uh. Right. Okay,” I said. I smiled at everyone and made my way out of the room, back to my guest room. I changed into the flowing sky blue blouse I’d bought, along with the white slacks I’d brought from Loveland to wear to one of the meetings I was on a business trip in the area for in the first place, and fixed my bun so it wasn’t as messy.

Once I made sure I was presentable, I went back downstairs.

Victor’s Uncle Morgan was a boisterous man. It hadn’t taken me long to change and fix my hair, but he’d arrived while I was gone and greeted me with excessive enthusiasm upon my return.

Apparently someone had told him about me. Whether it was Victor, his father, or his aunt, I wasn’t entirely sure.

“So this is the lovely lady I’ve heard so much about!” He scooped up my hand and kissed my knuckles while I tried not to blush from embarrassment and awkwardness. “A most welcome pleasure to meet you, young lady.” He glanced over his shoulder at Victor. “Honestly, I don’t know why you haven’t brought her around sooner.”

And there went the misunderstanding that Victor and I were dating again.

Were Victor’s ears turning red? Or was I just projecting my own heated skin onto him?

“Maybe to avoid making her uncomfortable, like this?” Victor suggested.

Morgan turned back to me. “My apologies, young lady. I didn’t mean any harm.”

“I know you didn’t,” I said. I cleared my throat. “Shall we eat?”

“Yes. Please.” Victor jumped on the chance to change the subject and move along. I followed his family into the dining room and sat in the chair Victor pulled out for me.

Victor had always struck me as a head-of-the-table guy. But with his father and uncle in the room, dare I say outranking him, he sat along one of the long sides of the table next to me, after pulling out my seat for me and helping me tuck it in. Aunt Grace beamed. “What a gentleman,” she offered.

My face was definitely the color of a ripe strawberry at this point.

Uncle Morgan, Aunt Grace, and Victor’s father exchanged pleasantries. While they did, Victor leaned over to me. “That blouse looks… rather good on you. Its color complements your complexion.”

Did he seriously just—? He did! He complimented me!

Holy cow. Wow.

I smiled gently at him, trying not to attract the attention of his family. “Thank you,” I said quietly. “That’s very kind of you to say.”

The food was brought in and the five of us tucked in. I’d been taught proper table etiquette, but had never figured I’d actually need it and had forgotten most of it. Was I allowed to hold my fork in my right hand or did it have to stay in my left so I could use the knife with my right? I really didn’t want to give Victor another excuse to bully me and call me an idiot for not remembering table manners that I almost never needed to use. I bit my lip for a brief moment.

C’mon kiddo, like this, I heard my dad’s voice in my memory saying as he guided me on how to use the knife and fork together. Fork down, okay?

Okay.

“Everything alright?” Aunt Grace asked, noticing my hesitation.

“Everything is great. Just… taking it all in,” I said. Smooth, I thought sarcastically. I doubt that lie fooled anyone at the table. “I, uh, never cook pretty food and it all looks so beautiful.” I hoped that would smooth it over.

“What do you mean?” Victor asked in a tone that sounded like he was complaining.

I took a deep breath. “These dishes just look like works of art. When I cook I don’t bother much with presentation if it’s just for me,” I explained. “Even when I am giving something to someone I prefer taste over everything.”

I sensed Victor was about to insult me—the twitch of his left brow heralded a snide remark that probably involved something along the lines of the fact that my cooking still probably tasted terrible—but he was cut off. “Hey, taste is the most important part of food, so I don’t blame you,” Uncle Morgan remarked. Slightly vindicated, I picked up my fork in my left hand, facing the bend in the tines down toward the plate, and started to cut with the knife in my right hand.

“Thank you,” I said sincerely.

Victor “Hmph”ed and continued eating.

“So, what do you cook?” Victor’s father asked curiously.

“My favorite thing to make is pudding. I tasted this delicious pudding when I was a child and have never been able to replicate it,” I replied. “Every pudding I’ve made is in search of that one flavor. I actually had some at this interesting restaurant called Souvenir in Loveland that tasted almost just like it, but didn’t manage to ask the boss for the recipe.”

“Mm. Shame,” Victor’s father commented.

“Yeah…”

I still suspected Victor was the boss of Souvenir but figured family dinner on New Year’s Day wasn’t the best time to bring it up and ask him.

Honestly I wondered if I would ever feel brave enough to ask him.

Probably not.

“So, Victor,” Uncle Morgan began. “Tell me more about you two.” He waved his thankfully-empty fork between the two of us. “Where’d you meet?”

“Work,” Victor said. “LFG invests in her production company.”

That was… surprisingly diplomatic, considering our meeting involved me yelling for a chance over the crowd. Maybe he just didn’t want to tell the whole story. That was more likely. His family already had the wrong impression about our relationship and he didn’t want to feed that.

Maybe he figured the way we met sounded too much like the start to an adorable romantic relationship like those old chick-flicks I watched when I was feeling down on myself.

Probably.

Uncle Morgan gave me an approving look. “Ohhh. Producer, huh?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I took over the company after my father passed away once I got my degree.”

“And what’s your degree in?”

“Literature. But being a producer is really my passion.”

“You must be good—to have LFG as your investor,” Aunt Grace put in.

I smiled. “We work hard,” I said, not exactly answering the question but cutting Victor off from any snarky comment he had on the tip of his tongue. “And we really enjoy what we do. Happy employees make the work easier.”

“Aw. What a good boss,” Aunt Grace said.

My ears warmed up and I wished I’d taken my bun out so I could cover them. “Thank you,” I said quietly.

“Her company is working on monopolizing Loveland TV within the next couple years,” Victor said.

I nodded in his direction. “All his idea,” I said in a tone like I was graciously giving him credit instead of blaming him.

Uncle Morgan and Victor’s father both chortled. Uncle Morgan wagged his fork at Victor. “Now, now, Victor,” he chided playfully. “Competition is healthy! Monopolization is bad for the market and consumers don’t like it. Unhappy consumers make unhappy business.”

At least someone voiced the opinion I’d always had on monopolizing Loveland TV to him. Heaven knew I wasn’t brave enough. There were times when Victor was remarkably kind and approachable. Talking about business was not one of them.

Victor “Hmph”ed again and changed the subject to business. Finance. A subject I knew very little about and was content to sit in silence and eat the delicious food while listening intently to see what I could learn. I always learned a lot from Victor when he talked work—even if he was a condescending jerk about it sometimes. He wasn’t intentionally trying to teach me this time but I was determined to learn anyway.

To be polite I tried to look at whomever was talking, and since Victor seemed to be hogging most of the conversation I ended up watching him a lot. I wondered if he’d accuse me of staring later.

Probably.

Heck, he probably had a bulleted list in his head of everything he’d been cut off from saying that he’d surely deliver to me later.

That would be… fun.

*****

After dinner, I was persuaded to play another piece on the piano since Uncle Morgan didn’t get the chance to hear me play before dinner. But after that I managed to claim exhaustion after the shopping excursion and went up to my guest room. There was an en suite bathroom attached that I hadn’t noticed so I took a shower and then changed into my pajamas. I brushed my hair and then my teeth and wrapped up in my dressing gown, grateful I’d thought to bring it. I scrolled through my phone, replying to well-wishers from work and life.

There came a knock on the door. “My aunt and uncle are leaving for the night, if you’d like to say goodbye,” Victor’s relatively indifferent voice intoned.

I dropped my phone on my bed. “I’m, uh, in my pajamas,” I remarked.

“They won’t mind.”

I shrugged. “Okay. Be right down.”

I waited a few moments in hopes that Victor left—heaven knew he didn’t make noise when he walked so how would I know if he’d gone or not?—before emerging from my guest room.

Thankfully, Victor had in fact gone already.

Which was good because I didn’t want his first time seeing me in my pajamas to be a moment alone when he could needle me about my style or whatever. He’d find something to criticize. He always did. To his credit, his criticisms usually helped me improve but I liked my pajamas and I didn’t care about his opinion on how I chose to sleep comfortably.

When I got to the front door, Aunt Grace and Uncle Morgan were making their farewells to Victor and his father. When they caught sight of me, Aunt Grace let go of her husband to take my hand and wrap an arm around my shoulders. “Don’t let this be the last time we meet, alright?”

I thought back to Victor’s call this morning, inviting me to come home with him the next time he visited. “I hope not,” I said. “I’d love to see you again.” I smiled at her.

She gestured to Victor. “And don’t let him be too hard on you, okay?”

“Aunt Grace,” Victor complained quietly with a roll of his eyes.

She shot him a look. “I’m serious, Victor. She’s a good girl and she makes you happy.”

I took a deep breath and considered opening my mouth to finally shout into the snow that WE’RE NOT DATING, OKAY?! But I managed to just chuckle quietly—if a bit awkwardly. Victor noticed I’d gone stiff and managed to extract me from his aunt.

“Next time I come home I’ll bring her with me and she can tell you all about it,” he promised, one arm slightly protectively resting around my shoulders.

I got another kiss on the hand from his uncle. “You two staying long?”

“Till the eighth,” Victor said.

“Well, then, we’ll be sure to come around for another visit. We don’t see you often enough, Victor,” Aunt Grace put in.

“Goodnight,” Victor said, slightly forcefully, as his aunt and uncle went out the door.

“Night!” I called with a wave while Victor, his father, and I stood at the front door to see them off safely. The snow had slowed somewhat so at least they had a better chance of making it on the road without incident.

“Goodnight!” Aunt Grace and Uncle Morgan called back as they got in their car.

Once the front door was shut, Victor’s arm around my shoulders tightened. “Now. Bedtime,” he said.

For once I didn’t protest about him treating me like a kid or an idiot because I was actually exhausted and agreed with him. I nodded and let him half-pull me back to my guest room. He ran one hand down my damp hair.

“Get some sleep,” he said. His voice was quiet but still had that tone of ordering me around that it usually had.

“You too.”

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”

He planted a soft kiss in my hair and retreated down the corridor. I slunk into my room and fell against the door to shut it.

Then I promptly collapsed on the bed and squealed into the remarkably soft pillow. AAAHHH! He kissed me again! Oh my WORD!

Despite usually being stiff, cold, and indifferent, Victor didn’t hate me after all!

#Mr. Love Queen's Choice #MLQC #MLQC Victor #MLQC FanFiction #MLQC Imagine #Mr. Love Queen's Choice Imagine #Mr. Love Queen's Choice FanFiction #my writing #Mr Love Queen's Choice #Mr Love Queen's Choice Imagine #Mr Love Queen's Choice FanFiction

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs “Ethanol”

Hope you guys enjoy, feel free to send me messages, comments, critiques, ideas, and prompts :)

“So, do you guys mind telling me where we’re going?”

Sitting in the back seat of the human vehicle, snug inside his test tube he watched as Captain Vir’s three brothers exchanged grins turning down another long-dark roadway as the last rays of the setting sun sunk behind the mountains.

Today had been cold, very cold, but sunny. The distant star had lit the snow on fire making it nearly impossible to look at as it sparked and winked from out the window. Krill still couldn’t fathom how human survived on such a hostile planet, but to each his own he supposed.

They pulled up another roadway, “Little brother, it has come to our attention that we have committed an egregious oversight of brotherly protocol.”

Vir tapped his fingers against his arm impatiently, “And, what is that?”

They turned up another street lit on either side by glittering storefronts and a single glowing neon sign.

Vir glanced out the window and groaned, “No guys, seriously.”

The car pulled into a parking lot, “Yes seriously, come on, last time you were home for an extended period of time, you weren’t old enough to drink.”

Thomas, the second youngest brother, elbowed him playfully in the ribs, “And, I hear ladies drink free on Saturdays.”

Vir moaned and dropped his head against the seat in front of him.

Jeremy turned around, “Come on little bro, don’t tell me you’re still afraid of girls.”

Vir crossed his arms angrily, “I am not AFRAID of girls. I just…..”

“Just what? Come on Adam, have you ever even kissed a girl?”

He crossed his arms, “You know in all the commotion of, I don’t know, being famous I completely forgot.”

They eyed him from the front seat, “How about guys because we can…”

Vir glowered from his spot in the back seat, “I want to make out with another guy as much as I want to make out with you, and I would rather eat off my other foot than kiss you.”

Krill watched confusedly from the back seat. He didn’t know what a lot of these words meant. Drinking clearly meant something more than its usual meaning, and he wasn’t particularly familiar with making out or kissing. No one had bothered to explain that to him. Though the indication that human females might be here made him curious. As far as he knew, humans didn’t have a mating season, so he wasn’t exactly sure how the two groups met each other.

Jeremy popped open his door flooding the car with light, and with protesting Vir was dragged from the car with Krill in tow. “If mom finds out what we are doing, than we are so dead.”

David frowned at him, “You’re not going to go n’ tattle on us, are you.”

Vir locked his lips angrily shut and followed his brothers into the warm- stuffy and mildly cramped room. The volume was raised to a dull roar as music played in the background, and humans laughed raucously. Vir set down the container and let Krill out. Krill kept at the man’s feet as they moved across to the bar through a sea of bodies.

All around humans held drinks. They were louder and even more aggressive than usual.

Was their coordination off?

The oldest brother Jeremy leaned himself up against the bar. Vir followed with a grimace sliding in next to his brother and helping Krill to stand on a stool. By now they had attracted the attention of most of the bar, and the room suddenly went silent. “Hey, Adam.” An older man waved at them from across the room. Vir grimaced and gave a small wave. The man turned to the rest of the bar, “Well don’t just stand there goggle-eyed, clap for the man. Not every day you get to thank a man for his service in a space war.”

The bar erupted in sudden cheers, and Vir grimaced even harder a tinge of red sneaking into his neck. Krill examined the humans close by picking out the females. One of them smiled at Vir from down the bar. The red on his neck rocketed up into his face, and he turned away hurriedly.

“Captain? What is this place?”

Instead of the Captain, Jeremy answered, “This my fine four-legged friend, is an establishment of debauchery and good times.” The bar tender had moved across to where they were standing.

“Four Flaming Dr. Peppers please.”

Vir rolled his eyes, “Come on Jeremy. Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“Yes, while we’re sober.”

The bartender eyed them, “You’re not going to try to drink it WHILE it’s on fire are you?”

Jeremy frowned, “it’s like you think I’m stupid or something.”

The man shook his head alright. He came back with his tools and krill watched mesmerized as the man filed tiny glasses with various liquids and then a larger glass about halfway. He didn’t expect what happened next as he began lighting the surface of the small glasses on fire. He jumped back a bit nearly falling off the bar stool but Vir steadied him. The female humans were still watching from the side and Vir seemed to be trying very hard to ignore them.

By the time the drinks were ready the man seemed desperate for a distraction. Together the brothers lifted the flaming shots into the air as a toast, extinguishing the flame and dropping them into the larger cups before downing the contents in a single go. Krill looked on in shock and horror.

Why did humans always have to light things on fire? It seemed excessive and very unnecessary.

They dropped the glasses back onto the counter with the older brother ordering another round of drinks.

“How do you light in on fire?” Krill wondered, only to learn that the drinks contained ethanol, which was actually a type of poison that could cause severe change in mental status in humans as the body desperately tried to rid itself of the poison. Symptoms were supposed to include confusion, reduction in motor function, blackouts, upset stomach, and a lack of reasoning sills.

The humans were drinking poison to celebrate?

As the night grew darker, this only became more and more clear. The four human brothers slowly grew louder, more rowdy and less coordinated. Krill was nearly knocked off his stool on more than one occasion. As the shortest, Thomas was the first to exhibit slurred speech, flirting hopelessly with the group of humans down the bar. They laughed at him, and allowed for his antics, but he was much too drunk for them to interact with him.

An already animated person, Vir grew even more animated with reduced brain function. By then he had a small group of people gathered around him as he old stories of his exploits in space. Krill was pretty sure most of it was heavily exaggerated, as he didn’t recall any twenty foot tall alien pirates that had attempted to take their ship. However, inebriation didn’t make him any better with the female humans, and as soon as one sidled close, he nearly fell off his chair, and made some lame excuse about needing to pee before stumbling away towards the bathroom.

Krill kept his spot on his stool. The bartender leaned against the counter next to him and in that curious way that humans had, he offered krill a drink, and asked him where he was from. Krill declined the drink, but the human seemed to have all his senses intact.

In fact many of the humans came up to talk with krill. It was a terrifying and fascinating experience. All the filters and locks a human kept on themselves was completely gone under the influence of alcohol. They said the stupidest things and asked the dumbest of questions.

The night was going mostly fine, until one of the humans approached. He was large, and he was sloshed, and he was mad. He started by immediately jabbing a finger at krill “Alien scum.” He slurred, “Go back to space where you belong. We don’t want you here, illegal.”

Krill pressed himself back against the bar, “I…. I don’t.”

The man ignored him and stalked closer jabbing a finger at him, “Earth should never’ve joined the gala’tic ‘lliance. Alien filth.”

He spit towards krill who barely dodged out of the way.

And suddenly Vir was there standing between the two of them, “Back off.” He growled fighting against the slur in his own voice. Krill backed onto the bar, and the bar tender hesitantly moved towards them.

The man jabbed a finger into Vir’s chest, “This is your fault. You brought those alien ****S here.”

Vir slapped the man’s hand aside, “Don’t touch me.” He growled

The man sneered at him, and jabbed his finger towards him harder, “And what are you going to do, gimpy.” He glanced around him towards krill, “I’m comin’ fer you next.”

And then Vir clocked him in the jaw.

Krill yelped, and was swing behind the bar by the bartender as the room erupted into chaos. Vir was only able to land the one good punch before things went right to hell.

One of the man’s other friends must have noticed, and came to help his friend. The drunken brawl escalated as Vir was thrown to the floor with a hard sock to the cheek, and his brothers came to his aid. Screaming and yelling defined the room as Krill hid behind the bar watching as the room became the whirling blades of a meat grinder.

The bartender had a phone in his hands seconds later, and before they knew it, the room was bathed in blue and red flashing lights.

No less than four uniformed humans came marching into the room. Krill was stunned and in admiration as the fearless humans broke up the brawling pairs on by one throwing them onto the floor, using energy cuffs and shackles. One man was forced into a spinal block paralyzing him to the floor as he yelled profanities at the uniformed peacekeepers.

Vir, Jeremy, Thomas and David were the last to be extracted from their fight. Vir looked very close to passing out with a black eye. One of the other brothers had bleeding knuckles, and all of them were very very drunk.

Angry yelling ensued as the officers tried to figure out who had attacked first.

A quick look at the security camera showed that while Vir had thrown the first punch, the other man had made aggressive contact beforehand. Krill and the bartender put in their two cents as the four brothers sat on the floor with the rest of the crowd, cuffed in energy restraints. The man who had made the aggressive move was still yelling, and that may have helped to make him appear more the aggressor.

“Sorry…. Officer.” Vir slurred, “I…. “Shake his head, “Are we going to jail?”

The lead officer paused, ‘No, not today, but only because you haven’t given us any additional trouble, however, I AM going to do something potentially worse than that.”

The brothers looked worried and confused.

From his pocket, the officer withdrew his cellphone and dialed a number. He had to wait a good few minutes before, “Hello, Mr. Vir….”

The brothers immediately began protesting begging the cop to take them to jail. Krill was fascinated from where he stood by the bar.

“Yes, I have your boys here….. yeah, involved in a drunken bar fight…. Yeah it know its 12:30. You can take them, or I can….. I just thought you might want to deal with them yourself…. Yeah…. Yeah…. No, they’ll be waiting for you.”

By then the brothers had gone very, very silent heads hanging low as they waited. The rest of the drunken group was uncovered and sent off home before a car door slammed shut outside. The brothers cringed down as Mr. Vir stormed inside wearing a winter coat, blue striped pajamas, and a pair of his work boots. Dark purple bags sagged under his eyes as he marched up to his progeny.

Krill scooted behind the bar filled with sudden fear upon seeing the look in the man’s eyes. Even more afraid than he had been during the fight.

“You ABSOLUTE MORONS waking your mother and I up in the middle of the night for your shenanigans You absolutely DISGRACEFUL useless bag of ingrates.” This continued for a long while individually laying into them before finishing with Vir, “And you,” is voice grew quiet, “I thought you knew better, after all you’ve done, after what you represent, and here you are. Sitting on a bar floor drunk…. Your mother and I are.” He paused, “Very disappointed.”

The room was dead silent. Krill had no real desire to come out at that moment. It’s one thing to have a human attack you or yell at you or even each other.

But the most painful thing a human can do to you, or each other, is to express their disappointment.

#humans are space orcs #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #humans are space australians #Earth is space Ausralia

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squish-sims · 4 years

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“What a wonderful ceremony and reception Connie, Congratulations.”

The party was winding down, close family members remaining as the reception had turned to eating from the catering table, and dancing on the dance floor together, talking with one another and celebrating the new couple. Jesminder sat at the side of the dance floor, not entirely able to dance as raucously as her younger peers, before turning to Connie.

“Thankyou Mother. It really was beautiful, we’re very proud of Gracie and Thomas. It’s wonderful to be here with them on this special day.”

“I want to send a gift to the happy couple, is it possible that I could write a check or cover the costs of one of the elements of the ceremony? She is my only granddaughter, and I want to give her something special today.”

#gameplay: lafontaine #lafontaine: g3 #the sims 4 #the sims 4 gameplay #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #simblr #maxis match #connie bheeda #jesminder bheeda

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ben-barnes-is-my-husband · 5 years

Text

Complete Chapter 3

of the Wildling and Her Kneeler.

Sansa was waiting for him, just as she said she would be. Jon told his guards to stay back, and he and Ghost strode forward and met her at the bottom of the hill again. Her direwolf growled softly, and Ghost growled in return, but neither moved from their masters side.

"Good day, Sansa," he greeted her.

"What did your Northern Lords say?" she asked.

He chuckled. "I'm well, thank you. And you?"

She frowned. "King Jon--"

"Just call me Jon," he said. "The Night's Watch is sending a man with information to speak with us directly about the White Walkers. The Lord Commander has confirmed what you told us."

She nodded slowly. "But your Northern Lords don't believe it still."

"They'll take some convincing, but I believe you. I believe Edd."

"Edd - the Lord Commander?"

"Aye."

She threw him a withering look. "You only believe me because you believe him. You thought I was making up stories to get land. I don't want your lands, King Jon. The Free Folk want freedom as we always have. We've no use for castles and lords. We just want to live and be safe."

"And from one leader to another, I understand what it means to want to protect your people. How many would be able to fight when the White Walkers come?"

"A thousand. Not the children of course. But we are a group of warriors, even the women." She held her head high, clearly proud.

"I can see that you are a warrior," he murmured, looking her over appreciatively. He could see her trousers again today, and the leather she wore with buckles and straps hugging the material to her body. She had a knife strapped to her leg.

He looked up at her, his blood stirred. "We'll have to work out the details," he said huskily. "See what repairs need to be done at Dreadfort."

"Dreadfort? Is that what that monstrosity is called?”

“Aye.”

“Are you offering your services for making repairs, King Jon?" asked with a smirk.

"Jon," he reminded her. "Just Jon. You despise kneelers and titles, remember?"

"Ah, but I know you have use of them."

"I don't," he said. Before she could question him about that, he asked, "When would you like to ride out to Dreadfort?"

"Should we not wait until everyone is in agreement that we can stay there?"

"You'll stay," he said. "I'll do them this courtesy, but you'll stay."

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Just like that?"

He met her gaze and held it. “Just like that.”

“Are there conditions?”

“Perhaps,” he said with a slow predatory smile. “I suppose you’ll just have to meet me tomorrow at Dreadfort so I can let you know what they are.”

Her brow arched, but she oddly looked amused and unsurprised. “Fine then. Same time as yesterday…Jon.”

And then she headed up the hill and Jon wished they were going to Dreadfort today instead of tomorrow, just so he could spend a little more time with her.

************

“Well?” Ygritte, Sansa’s “sister” asked her when she returned to camp. Her people, made their way closer, wanting to know what their ultimate fate was going to be.

Yrgitte, her bright red hair pulled back from her face at the sides and left to hang loose and a bit unkempt down her back, slipped an arrow into its sheath at her back and planted her hands on her hips. “What did the kneeler say?”

“He’s going to let us stay at Dreadfort,” Sansa replied. “That’s what the castle and it’s lands are called.”

“That sounds a wee bit scary,” Tormund, a big hulking Wildling also with bright red hair, said. “All the women are free to stay with me in my room for protection!” He laughed raucously and there were a few laughs that rippled through the group.

“Come, sister,” Ygritte said. “Tell everyone your news.”

Sansa nodded as she made her way to a boulder that Tormund and Ygritte had to help her onto. She found her footing, made sure she was stable, and smiled down at her people.

“I come with good news!” she said, voice raised to make sure they could all hear her. “We will be able to stay at the castle!”

A mixed response followed - some cheered, others remained silent.

“What will he make us do as payment?” Val, the best spearwife next to Ygritte asked as she came forward. Her blonde hair was braided back from her face and her blue eyes were sharp and wary.

“We fight when the time comes,” Sansa replied. Though I have a feeling he might ask more from me.

Val’s mouth turned down; she looked wary. She and Ygritte shared a look.

“And what about the Northern bastards?” someone Sansa couldn’t see shouted.

“They’ll abide by what their King says,” Sansa returned.

“Do you really believe that?” Someone else shouted.

“What would you have me do then?” Sansa demanded. “We came to this agreement--”

“Not all of us!” a voice rasped from the middle of the crowd.

“Let your leader speak!” Ygritte shouted, narrowing her eyes at the crowd. Several shifted away from her.

Sansa nodded at her in thanks. “This was what the majority of us wanted to do,” she continued to the crowd. “What we planned. Do you prefer to face the White Walkers here in the woods when they march?”

Silence fell.

“We have much to fear from lords and kings, too!” Orell, in the front told her, loud enough for people to hear.

“You’ll have much more to fear if you don’t shut your mouth,” Tormund warned him.

“It’s all right, Tormund,” Sansa said. “He’s afraid.” She looked out at the sea of faces. The people her father had trained her to lead should something happen to him.

Something had.

White Walkers had killed him and the men he’d been with while on a scouting mission. Sansa had been the first to see her father’s body, his legs and his torso in two different places. That day, Sansa had fought her first White Walker, and she vowed that she would not let them best her or her people.

“We are fierce!” she told the crowd. “We are strong! Are we not?”

A half-hearted whoop went through the crowd.

“We have much more to fear from those creatures who took my father from us. A bunch of kneelers are no match for what’s coming, for what we’ve seen and what some of us have fought. All of us together can handle a bunch of cunts in fancy castles!”

Now they cheered in agreement and Sansa knew she had them.

“We will fight!” she shouted. “And we will win!”

Now they whooped whole-heartedly and Sansa smiled. “And we will band together as a people as we always have!”

Another cheer.

“Let’s celebrate!” Tormund shouted and that garnered a loud raucous cheer that left Sansa smiling.

Tormund helped her down from the rock and he smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at his sides. “You do your father proud,” he told her.

She smiled. “Thank you, Tormund.”

“You get the first drink,” he said and tugged on her hand to march her through the crowd.

Sansa would happily take that drink, and many more, in celebration. For the first time since she’d seen the gruesome sight of her father’s remains almost three moons ago now, she felt hope.

xxxxxxxxxxx

The following afternoon, Jon eagerly dismounted his horse when he saw Sansa appear through the castle gates. He started forward, his soldiers following behind him along with Lord Royce and Lady Mormont. He’d told them his plan to meet with Sansa at Dreadfort so she could see the castle, and told them if they wanted to take her measure, they could accompany him. They’d agreed to do so.

Jon stopped his stride when he saw Sansa had brought her own people with her: two women and a rather large man with wild red hair and even wilder blue eyes. Jon could tell when a man was sizing him up, and this man was. Jon stared back, letting him know that he was not afraid.

The man said something to Sansa and she looked at him sharply while the two women with her laughed. Sansa and the other two women made a striking group, all beautiful in their own way, but it was Sansa who commanded his attention.

When they were a few feet away, she stopped. The giant man was at her right. The two women at her left. “King Jon,” she said.

“Sansa,” he said and nodded his head. “Welcome to Dreadfort.”

Her gaze flickered to Lord Royce and Lady Mormont. “You’ve brought company.”

“I have. Sansa, this is Lord Royce and Lady Mormont.”

“A lord and a lady,” Sansa murmured.

“How old is the little lady anyway?” the giant man asked. “Is she a ruler of her own lands?”

“Aye, I am,” Lady Mormont said with a glare of warning.

“Fuck me, they get them young, don’t they?” the giant man muttered.

Jon might have laughed under other circumstances. But he knew how well that would go over with Lord Royce and Lady Mormont so he wisely kept his mouth shut. Besides, he was wondering exactly what this man was to Sansa. He watched her discreetly nudge him and he grinned at her, which caused her to smile.

“We’d like to thank you for this opportunity to meet with you,” Sansa said, her head held high.

She was good at this, Jon observed. This was why she was in charge and not the giant next to her.

“I’d like to introduce you to my family...of sorts,” she said and gestured to the giant. “Tormund.” She gestured to the women. “Val is next to me, and Ygritte is next to her.”

“My but he’s a pretty King,” Ygritte said boldly, staring at Jon.

Jon did a double take; he hadn’t been expecting that. He cleared his throat. “Perhaps we could take this inside and see what we may be working with.”

Everyone agreed and Jon led the way. He looked over his shoulder at Sansa, still flanked by Tormund, Val, and Ygritte, and wondered if he would be able to get her alone at all that day.

Being outside Dreadfort had been hard enough, but being the castle where the Bolton’s had turned on them all and slew Robb right in front of him was harder.

He could still see Robb sliding to the floor, a sword through his heart. Those bastards had thought to stage a sneak attack, but they hadn’t counted on Jon’s mistrust of the Bolton’s and him insisting on bringing soldiers with them. What could have been a complete massacre had ended with Roose Bolton and his son Ramsay dead, and those who hadn’t been killed, fleeing for their lives.

Jon had made sure to track every single traitor down and kill them slowly. Painfully.

Just as he had Joffrey Lannister for killing his father and his mother.

Shaking himself out of the memories, he turned away from the spot in the great hall where Robb had been murdered and looked around, assessing the place with a critical eye. “It will need some work to be habitable.”

“If we agree to let you stay,” Lord Royce said, eyeing Tormund.

Sansa arched a brow. “I’m sure you have questions,” she said. She glanced at Lady Mormont. “Both of you. About White Walkers.”

“Aye,” Lady Mormont said. “Many.”

Jon, meanwhile, was trying to push down the memories of the slaughter this room saw. It was hard. Just when he thought he had moved on…

“Let’s move into the library,” he said quickly, and rushed ahead, leaving no chance for argument. Not that he expected to get one. He was the King after all, and that came with some perks.

He led them down the hall and into an equally larger room that didn’t have much in the way of books, but was at least a bit warmer than the hall had been, and had some comfortable looking chairs.

“Let’s sit,” he said and sat first, as was customary, near the fireplace that held no fire.

They all followed suit, adjusting chairs that had more or less already been set up around the fire.

“Well, Lord Royce and Lady Mormont,” Sansa began. “What would you like to know?”

#jonsa #jon x sansa #pt 5 of wip

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endlessflame · 5 years

Text

St. Patrick’s Day in Birchport (Flynn x MC)

Summary: Kerri, Flynn, and Kate celebrate St. Patrick’s Day.

Rating: T

Tags: @cora-nova @mfackenthal @brightpinkpeppercorn

"Over here!" Kerri waved as she saw Kate walk into Shipwreck Sally's.

Kate hurried over to Kerri and Flynn's table. "Time to party!" She eyed their mugs of green beer. "Hey, you started without me!"

"We live closer, so we got here sooner. And we're in a bar on St. Patrick's Day. You expect us to sit here and not drink? It's tradition!" Kerri picked up her beer and took a sip. "Besides, it's not like we drank all the alcohol in the place. There's plenty behind the bar."

"Be right back!" Kate turned away and headed to the bar to order a drink.

Kerri looked to Flynn. "Did Kate ever tell you about the St. Patrick's Day party we threw freshman year?"

"No, but I can imagine. Two Irish redheads? How could you not party?" "It was in our dorm room. We made balloon shamrocks and hung them on the walls, and of course got lots of alcohol. Good thing we had fake IDs. We put green food coloring in the vodka. We also had whiskey, Baileys, and some other stuff. Our room was packed. Kate was pinching anyone who didn't wear green."

"I can picture that." Flynn turned towards Kate as she approached. "Two drinks?"

"I couldn't decide between green beer and Irish coffee," Kate explained. "So I got both."

"Damn, now I'm craving one." Kerri stood up. "You want one, Flynn?"

"No, I prefer my whiskey straight."

"Suit yourself." Despite the crowd, she managed to get the bartender's attention. When she returned to the table, she set her drink down and passed a glass of whiskey over to Flynn. "You didn't say you didn't want this."

"You're a bad influence." Flynn chuckled as he took the drink.

"And you love it." Kerri placed her hand on Flynn's thigh and stroked it gently, slowly moving downward.

Flynn grinned at her. "Oh, yeah."

Kerri turned to Kate. "Those pictures of Rachel that you posted on FaceSpace were so cute!"

"Thanks. I couldn't resist dressing her up for St. Patrick's Day."

"Did you see my article in the Birchport Banner today?"

"Yeah, I liked it! The only Birchport history anyone ever hears about has to do with the Sterlings. It was nice to learn more about the Irish who lived here."

"I thought it was important to tell the stories of the working-class people. St. Patrick's Day seemed like the perfect time to write about the Irish immigrants who settled here."

The three of them chatted and drank for a while. Then Flynn reached down and picked up his guitar case. "Time to play." He and Kerri stood up.

"You'll be great!" Kate told them.

They set up, and then Flynn spoke into the microphone. "Hello, and happy St. Patrick's Day! I'm Flynn O'Malley, and this is Kerri Fitzpatrick. Tonight we'll be singing some traditional Irish songs for you."

In Dublin's fair city Where the girls are so pretty I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone As she wheeled her wheelbarrow Through the streets broad and narrow Crying "cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh"

Flynn and Kerri traded verses on some songs. Other times, one would sing lead and the other would harmonize.

Oh, as I went home on Monday night As drunk as drunk could be I saw a horse outside the door Where my old horse should be Well, I called me wife and I said to her "Will you kindly tell to me Who owns that horse outside the door Where my old horse should be?" Ay, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool Still you cannot see That's a lovely sow that my mother sent to me Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more But a saddle on a sow, sure, I never saw before

They sung all the verses of "Seven Drunken Nights," including the last two raunchy ones. The patrons in the bar cheered raucously. Kate climbed up on the bar and started dancing.

After their set, Kate ordered Irish Flag shots for the three of them. They raised their glasses and clinked them together. "Sláinte!"

#flynn x mc #flynn o’malley #kate o’malley #veil of secrets #playchoices fanfic

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raendown · 6 years

Link

Day 3 of @madatobiweek and today’s prompt hidden relationship was inspired by this wonderful art by @dimancheetoile. Bet you forgot I wanted to write something for it, eh?

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 3535 Summary: Shattered by those they trusted, Madara and Tobirama bring the jagged pieces of themselves together in the practice of kintsugi. What once was broken is brought back to life with an unexpected appeal.

Edit: lol when you forget to go back and actually add the information

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

But Broken Live On

It was hard to say which surprised him more: finding out that his partner of six months had been cheating on him for two or finding Madara half-drunk in the same bar he had chosen to drink his own worries away in. After standing in the rain for five minutes because the shock of seeing his partner fucking another man had rendered him immobile and forced him to watch for that long, dealing with a drunken and possibly volatile Madara seemed like a great time in comparison.

And what did he have to lose, really?

Tobirama ignored the bartender’s pitying look when he ordered two bottles of sake and no cups, only tossed a few notes on the counter and swiped his poison of choice, toting them over to where his worst enemy sat slumped halfway down his seat. When he slid in across the booth Madara blinked at him foggily.

“Yeah,” Tobirama agreed with the other man’s vacant expression. “It’s been that sort of day.”

Halfway in to his first bottle his noticed that the other patrons in the bar were giving them a wide berth, likely more afraid of the violence they were capable of rather than the trouble they were likely to cause. Anyone with eyes could see that neither of them were in the mood for more than drowning their respective woes. Still, he was grateful for the privacy it afforded them both; despite sitting only a tabletop apart, the lack of interaction made it feel as though he were perfectly alone.

Eventually, once he’d gotten about a third of the way in to the second bottle, Madara stirred and seemed to finally register that there was someone sitting across from him. His dark eyes squinted blearily in an attempt to steady his vision but when he figured out it was only Tobirama he did nothing but slump further down and wave his hand sloppily for another bottle of whatever he was drinking. When the bartender arrived to drop it off Tobirama caught his arm and quietly asked for two more bottles.

“Are you certain that’s a good idea, Senju-sama?” the man asked nervously. Tobirama glowered.

“Just for that you can bring three and I’ll thank you to shove your opinions up your own ass.”

He scoffed as the man scuttled off. Across the table, Madara let out a rumbling belch.

“Coward,” he commented shortly.

“All men are cowards.” Tobirama swigged down the last of his first round of sake, wiping his lips on the back of his hand. “Dirty cowards who can’t say shit to your face but they sure can fuck around when your back is turned.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Madara conceded.

After watching his companion drain his own bottle Tobirama gave him an assessing look. “You drink like this a lot?” It certainly would explain why he was so grumpy all the time if he was constantly dealing with hangovers. Madara shook his head no, disproving his half-baked theory before it was fully formed.

“Special occasion,” the man grunted. Tobirama had never heard anyone put so much venom in to two simple words. Nor had he ever been so intrigued.

“Go on then, what are we celebrating?”

“The cowardice of men and the fucking around they do behind our backs.”

“Right. Right.”

Neither of them spoke as their drinks arrived on a tray, served to them with a tight expression. Tobirama stared the bartender down until the man turned and walked away with his spine held stiffly upright, his body language caught halfway between offended and terrified. Civilians were fun to rile up, even if he had too much decorum when sober to lower himself to such petty activities.

Alone again, both of them picked up whichever alcohol happened to be closest to hand, paying little attention to who ordered what, and raised their bottles to clink them together in the most depressing toast Tobirama had ever seen. Once they had both drank deeply and he had discovered that Madara preferred whiskey as his alcohol of choice, he mirrored his companions pose with a heavy slump.

“I’m sure you’ll be ecstatic to know that you are now only my second least favorite person in the world. Never thought I would hate anyone more than I hate you but life’s funny like that, I guess. Except I’m not laughing.”

“You’ve never laughed in your life,” Madara pointed out, following his observation with a muted hiccup.

Lowering his chin, Tobirama looking his companion dead in the eye and flatly drawled, “Ha. Ha. Ha.”

“Oh much better.”

“Hn.”

“So I know what ruined my life. What’s got your panties in a twist?”

“Excuse you but I do not wear panties.” Tobirama frowned, trailing of for a moment. “And if I did I would look fantastic in them. Not the point. I don’t wear panties. I mean Jurou asked me to once but fuck him.”

“Here here!” Madara chugged back a few mouthfuls. “Why are we fucking him?”

Tobirama threw both hands in to the air wildly, just barely missing one of the sake bottles. “Because he’s fucking other men! Six months! Down the fucking drain! I gave him everything he ever asked of me and what do I get for it? Nothing. I get fucked around.”

In his anger he almost didn’t notice the unsteady yet contemplative look he was getting,

“You get cheated on too?” Madara asked, his voice strangely quiet. Tobirama snapped his head around, pausing to press the heel of his hand against his forehead when the motion caused the room to spin around him and sent a wave of nausea crawling down his throat. When he regained his bearings he dropped the hand.

“Too?” was all he managed to say. Madara grunted.

“At least all you wasted was six months and not two damn years.”

Scrunching up his nose, Tobirama grunted back. “Didn’t even know you were dating anyone, to be honest.”

“Yeah well, same to you. Who would date your stupid cold face?”

“Well I thought Jurou but look how that one panned out for me.” It was no wonder he never took his brother up on all those offers to talk when he felt down. Rehashing it now really wasn’t helping him feel any better. Clearly he was not the talk therapy type.

Madara shifted in his seat, a flash of guilt there and gone from his face in the same moment. “I get that.”

“What about you, huh? Two years. That’s…that’s really shitty, Uchiha.”

“Shitty doesn’t even begin to describe it. I mean, I’m not saying I was perfect to him or nothin’. But he never complained so how was I supposed to know he wasn’t happy? Then I go out to the shed to grab…and he’s…shit.” Unable to make himself say it, Madara shook his head violently, trying to cast the images out by sheer force of will.

“We should do something about it.” Generally not a man much given to crimes of passion, revenge served hot sounded much better to him after – Tobirama had no idea how much sake he had consumed by this point.

“Yes! We should! We should fuck around on them!”

Tobirama let his head fall back so he could bark out a laugh. “It wouldn’t accomplish much,” he pointed out. “But damn if that doesn’t sound like it would make me feel a hell of a lot better. Get what you give or however that saying goes.”

Struggling to right himself on his sticky booth seat, Madara leaned forward across the table, hair spilling over the scuffed wood like swirling pools of ink. “We should – we should go fuck. In one of their beds. That’d fucking show ‘em we don’t care. That they don’t matter! We don’t need them, right?” His eyes were full of shadows and fire and Tobirama smothered the last shreds of sobriety and good sense with a wicked grin.

“Right,” he breathed.

How they got out of the bar, he didn’t know. It was almost like he had accidentally used his hiraishin without knowing as one minute they were standing on shaky knees and holding on to the table to steady themselves, then the next they were stumbling down a half lit street somewhere, laughing raucously as they used each other for support. He couldn’t remember if they paid for the rest of their drinks or not but such a small detail felt so far away when he was much too busy admiring the flush of intoxication on Madara’s cheeks.

Where they were or where they were going felt supremely unimportant and Tobirama wondered for a moment if he had ever been so free of worry before in all his life. Suddenly he had a new appreciation for why Hashirama liked to get drunk in the gambling dens so often. If this was what it felt like to lose his head to alcohol then he wondered why more people didn’t do this every day.

Surely the morning headaches couldn’t be anywhere near as bad as the rumors made them out to be. Hashirama had always been a shameless exaggerator.

Eventually they stumbled inside a house whose wards nearly fried him alive before Madara disarmed them at the last minute, snickering and describing in awful detail the gruesome death he had only barely avoided. Tobirama listened, fascinated.

“I don’t think I’d like that,” he decided after a very serious moment of consideration.

“Yeah, you’d look even dumber with your head fried off,” Madara agreed.

They fumbled through the door together, hands fisted in each other’s clothing as both of them tried to pull themselves upright using the other’s shirt. Laughter slowly faded away in to silence, the sound of it gradually swallowed up in the dark emptiness of the home, and Tobirama only realized he was up against a wall when Madara pressed in closer to him and there was no room to back up.

When his swaying vision found Madara’s face, there was a heat in his eyes and a grin on his mouth – and Tobirama had never found him so attractive.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

“Maybe.” Pushing up on to his toes so that their eyes were level, Madara bit his lip and did his best to pretend his fingers weren’t tracing the shapes underneath Tobirama’s skin tight shirt. “Didn’t we come here to fuck? Around? I mean we can fuck and fuck them around I, uh, think. Yeah?”

“Same thing,” Tobirama managed to spit out before lurching across the last couple of inches before them and crashing their mouths together. Embarrassingly, he mostly missed. On the other hand it didn’t seem like his companion cared very much. After correcting for his bad aim, Madara kissed him back with more passion than Tobirama had been on the receiving end of in his last three relationships combined, drawing a satisfied groan from his throat in response.

Their feet stumbled as Madara pulled them away from the wall, guiding the way blindly through the house, but both of them refused to separate. It felt amazing to experience passion again, to feel wanted and desired after the shock of realizing that they weren’t enough for the others who were meant to be loyal to them. Alcohol left their bodies both numb and hyper aware and that was enough to distract from the vague looming thought of what consequences might await them after tonight, leaving them free to indulge in the rush of what was happening in the here and now.

Eventually they made it deeper in to the house and managed to tumble down on top of a bed. Not even Madara seemed completely sure that this was indeed his own bed but it mattered little to either of them as he threw a leg over to straddle Tobirama’s thighs, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“I want – I want to ride you.”

Tobirama grunted, more than okay with that but lacking the faculties to express his agreement. Instead he reached up to pull Madara down in to another kiss while his other hand began to tug at someone’s obi; his or Madara’s he had no idea. They struggled together to remove their clothing, giggling together as well when Madara’s shirt got stuck in his hair and when Tobirama couldn’t reach to remove his pants with another body sitting across his hips.

Amusement was forgotten as soon as they were naked, however. Hands immediately began to wander, tracing muscles and stroking skin, clumsy in their inebriation but the floating sensation of the drink only increasing their excitement. Madara whined when Tobirama’s fingers found his entrance, bucking in to the touch. In return Tobirama pressed more firmly against him even as his other hand lifted away to search under the pillow and on top of the night stand.

“Damn it,” he cursed. “Where the hell-? Lube. Need – ah!” A shudder wracked his body and cut off his words, distracted by the teeth Madara had just clamped in to the tendons of his neck.

“Under the pillow.”

“S’not there.”

“Inside the – the pillowcase.”

“Ugh. Difficult.”

As soon as Tobirama found the little tube he’d been sure would be close at hand, he wasted little time in popping off the cap and distributing a small amount, reaching around to press his fingers back to the spot they had just been prodding. A sloppy grin of triumph lit his features when Madara whined again and pressed back, gasping when two of his fingers slid in together.

“No slow,” Madara growled. “Need – ahhh.”

“Need to shut up and lemme work is what you need.” Tobirama did his best to ignore the flush on his cheeks. For some reason it felt incredibly important that Madara not know how much he was enjoying himself at the moment and yet he was determined to make this good for the older man.

It was obvious he was doing well at that endeavor, too. Madara squirmed and bucked, his hips writhing constantly as he fucked himself open on two, then three of Tobirama’s fingers. Each time he found the angle for those fingers to brush up against his prostate he gave off sharp cries of ecstasy and shuddered until he lost the angle and had to search for it all over again. Tobirama encouraged him with unsteady caresses of his free hand even as his mouth mumbled a continuous stream of nonsensical words, half praising and half teasing the man for his enthusiasm.

Madara either didn’t care or couldn’t hear him past the blood thundering in his own ears as he continued to writhe and pant until finally his cries turned to half-coherent begging.

“I’m – I’m open, I’m fine. Need – just fuck me already! Gods stop, stop, let me ride you damn it!”

Rather than giving any sort of articulate response, the only thing Tobirama could do was gurgle out a sound even he didn’t recognize, removing his fingers hastily to reach down and use a bit of leftover slick to coat himself with. He guided Madara’s hips to where they needed to be and then gently encouraged him to slide down.

Completely unaware of how utterly wrecked his expression was, he didn’t understand why Madara was moaning before he even sank down on the prize he had just been begging for. As soon as he did, however, neither one of them were capable of thinking too much beyond the sensation of a tight grip around a thick cock. If Madara had been sober he would have noticed the pain of not being stretched enough but in his current state he was overwhelmed with nothing but the need for more.

What he did notice was his own lack of coordination and how difficult it was to lift his body up when he could barely feel his own limbs. Resting his elbows on the mattress and raising his forearms, Tobirama helped by giving Madara somewhere to brace himself, their fingers entwined as the older man used his palms to push off of. He must have found a good angle once again because right from the very first time he raised himself up and let gravity bring him back down he was moaning like a cheap whore.

As most drunken sex is, it was sloppy. Tobirama did what he could to rock with the hips riding him perhaps rougher than should have been pleasant. Madara’s throat grew hoarse with more noise than he had likely ever made before during this type of activity. Neither of their movements had any of the usual elegance they exuded yet it still felt incredible. Something about the wildness of their joining, the lack of inhibitions in their every thrust and cry, made the experience more intense than anything either of them could remember.

It didn’t last very long, though. Within barely a handful of minutes Madara was gasping, head thrown back to let his hair spill across Tobirama’s thighs while he babbled at the ceiling.

“Close! Fuck so close! Just like this…just like this…”

“Don’t,” Tobirama groaned underneath him. “Just wait for me you – hnn – you bastard.”

“But–!”

Squeezing their linked fingers, Tobirama closed his eyes tightly as rocked his hips with increasing urgency, chasing the end he could feel dancing just out of reach. He needed something, although it took an embarrassingly long time to realize what.

Madara nearly squealed when Tobirama let the support of his arms fall away, bringing the man crashing down on his chest. Tobirama drew him in to a searing kiss and rocked his hips again, thrusting a hand between them to stroke his partner and that was it. Both of them tumbled over the edge to the broken rhythm of their bodies, voices muffled as they continued to kiss almost violently, biting at lips and sliding their tongues together until finally their hips went still and Madara collapsed helplessly on to the man beneath him.

Chests heaving, limbs trembling, neither of them spoke for a short time while they slowly came down from the high. After a few minutes Tobirama realized that he was absently stroking Madara’s endless waves of hair but didn’t bother to stop now that he’d started. It was soft and felt nice between his fingers and he didn’t see why he should deny himself the pleasure.

Eventually he felt the other man stirring, fingers clutching at his skin, and the reality of why they were here came crashing down on him like a cold slap in the face.

“Feel any better?” he asked quietly, wincing when his companion stiffened in response.

“No.” Madara’s fingers tightened in his side a second time but he said nothing about it. The alcohol mostly numbed the pain anyway. “Did we get back at them?”

“Yeah. Sure did.”

“Then…shouldn’t it feel good? I mean it felt good but…I don’t feel good. My chest doesn’t feel good. Ugh, how do people deal with all of these stupid emotions all the time?”

Madara burrowed himself further in to Tobirama’s sternum, digging his face in to the sweaty skin as though wishing he could crawl inside and hide from the world. Rather than say anything about it, Tobirama simply lay still and continued to pet the man’s hair. How could he possibly say anything when he wished he could do the same?

“What do you think I did wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Tobirama’s heart missed a beat and just like that he could once again feel the cracks that the alcohol had filled in for a time. “Whatever it was, I must have done it too.”

“Yeah well…you’re dumb.”

“And you’re an ass.”

“Thanks.”

Honestly, Tobirama thought that being call dumb just after a round of amazing sex shouldn’t have been so comforting but at the moment he was willing to cling to any bastion of normalcy in the raging sea of confusion that was his emotions at the moment. Neither he nor the man currently falling sideways on to the bed were particularly good at emotions even on the best of days.

“Do you want to sleep?” he asked quietly. Madara hesitated.

“I’m all sticky,” he whined.

That, at least, Tobirama knew how to fix.

On shaky legs he stumbled down the hall until he found a bathroom, wetting a small hand towel and returning to the bedroom to help Madara clean up. After tossing the soiled cloth towards what looked sort of like a hamper to his fuzzy vision, he fell back down on to the bed, instinctively curling himself around the warm body already there. It registered only dimly that this was still Madara but he couldn’t bring himself to care. They were both sad and broken and he felt the oddest sense of comradeship between them for the first time in their lives.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Madara mumbled in to his pillow. Whether he meant for the rest of that night or simply in general, Tobirama wasn’t sure. Either way he agreed.

They fell asleep with satisfied bodies and aching hearts, twisted together and holding fast to each other as their only comfort in a world that had hurt them both.

#rae writes #madatobiweek2018 #madatobi #madara #tobirama #fanfiction #naruto shippuden

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myndopeus · 7 years

Text

you give me something to think about (chapter 3)

ao3 link in bio (bc of tumblr’s shitty external link thing)

Summary: Trini has no plans for the future, no idea of what she’s going to do after she leaves school. All that’s left is to enjoy the last year she has left.

And oh, what a year it will be.

The Slowburn Hogwarts AU that no one asked for.

“… and with that, I think we’ll conclude today’s lesson.”

Trini snaps awake at the sound of rustling parchment and stifled yawns, and she subtly leans back and stretches. She rubs the back of her neck regrettably; she hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but it looks the like all the excitement of the past few days was finally catching up to her. After packing up her things and filing out of the classroom with the rest of the students, she glances around quickly, searching for a certain tall, messy-haired Gryffindor. Not-so-gently pushing her way past a thick knot of people, she sees Zack’s familiar figure in the corner of her eye.

“Taylor! Wait up!” she calls, and several people nearby visibly jump in surprise at hearing her raise her voice. She shoots them a look before managing a dignified stride to where Zack is waiting, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“You know, I think we’re finally getting somewhere with this friendship, Dee-Dee,” Zack jokes. “I’ve heard that getting your friends to come out of their shell is a positive achievement. We should celebrate.”

“Friendship? That’s awfully optimistic of you,” she chuckles wryly.

Zack chuckles as they begin walking down the hall together. “So what brings little Miss Lone Wolf to my particular corner of the castle, eh? I doubt it’s out of appreciation for my dazzling conversation skills.”

“At least you got one part right. Also, call me ‘little’ again, and I’ll switch your feet for your hands.”

“I’m shaking in my boots,” he replies sarcastically, before pausing. “Wait, you don’t actually know a spell for that, do you? Because if you do, I- ”

“Back to the point,” she interrupts, “I… I decided to try out for the quidditch team.” She steels herself, but still isn’t quite prepared for the raucously jubilant sound that erupts from Zack’s mouth.

“OH YEAH! Aw man, this is gonna be awesome, Crazy Girl! We’ll get to have a rematch, except a proper match this time!” He turns to her eagerly. “So, what are you trying out for? Seeker, I presume?”

She hesitates, briefly reconsidering what she’s about to do. She wonders if it’s too early in their friendship to ask for such a favor, about whether it would make her look foolish or weak. Reminding herself that Zack was the one who encouraged her to try out in the first place, she takes a deep breath and swallows her pride.

“Well,” she begins, “I don’t exactly know which position would fit me best, so I was actually wondering if you could maybe help me practice in the mornings? Just for a bit, so at least I’ll have an idea before try outs.”

“Sick,” Zack nods enthusiastically. “Say, if we grab another person, we could totally try out some chaser plays! Billy’s pretty good, even though he’s not on the team, maybe you could try and convince him to join us too. We’ll have a proper sesh, it’ll be great.” At that Trini groans, burying her face in her hand.

“I’m starting to regret this already,” she mutters, and Zack’s hand claps heavily down on her shoulder.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Fi-Fi,” he says playfully as he shakes her shoulder. “It’s gonna be awesome.”

She shoves into him with her shoulder, and it’s about as effective as trying to body check a padded brick wall. “Whatever,” she grumbles. “And my name’s not Fi-Fi. It’s Trini.”

“Eyyy, what did I tell you? Our friendship is already beginning to blossom.” He waves at her as he turns down the corner, and she shakes her head in exasperation before heading off on her own.

To her surprise and mild dismay, when she gets to the library, she sees that Jason is at the table, with Billy nowhere in sight. She preoccupies herself by wandering through the stacks pretending to look for a book, while mentally debating whether or not to find another spot. She doesn’t bear Jason any ill will, but the prospect of sitting there without Billy to act as a buffer is uncomfortable.

It’s only when the books start strategically timing themselves to drop on her head that she realizes she’s been walking in circles. With a muted resigned groan, she walks back to her usual spot.

“Hey.” Jason greets her with a nod as she sits down, and she smiles awkwardly in return.

She tries to focus on her essay, but for some reason the silence is almost cringe-worthy, and it’s making it impossible for her to focus. At one point, she looks up and catches Jason glancing at her before he hurriedly turns back to his work. After several agonizing minutes, Trini decides that the tension is unbearable.

“So where’s Billy?” Jason blinks confusedly when she speaks, and she winces internally.

“Oh, Billy’s probably out in the greenhouses or something. He has a lot of personal projects that he likes to work on.”

“Like what?” Trini asks interestedly.

“Something about cross-breeding plants, I think?” Jason shakes his head. “You’d have to ask him yourself. He’s tried explaining them to me, but I honestly don’t understand any of it. It’s amazing, the amount of stuff that guy knows.”

Trini nods, and she notices a slight movement in her peripheral vision. One of the reference books scattered on the table is slowly shuffling its way towards Jason, who doesn’t seem to notice. As it inches closer, she sees it start to open slightly, and she tries to warn him.

“Watch out –”

She’s a second too late, as the book clamps shut on Jason’s fingers. He lets out a yelp and vigorously shakes his arm, flinging the book off. It tumbles off the edge of the table, and Trini instinctively lifts her feet off the ground to protect them.

“Son of a fuck,” Jason hisses, and he looks at Trini when she makes an amused noise. “Really? That’s funny to you?”

“Gryffindor’s golden boy, swearing like a sailor. Such scandal.” She smiles to show that she’s poking fun at him. “And in my defense, I did try to warn you.”

“You could’ve done it sooner,” he grumbles, and she just smirks. “Aw, damn.” She looks at his hand and realizes that it still has a bandage on it that was now spotting red.

Jason holds his hand in the air while shuffling through his papers in search of his wand. It isn’t the most dignified position, and Trini feels like he’s suffered enough at this point.

“Episkey.” She waves her wand, and Jason gives her a grateful look.

He pinches his hand gingerly. “I think that stopped the bleeding, but I’ll probably need to change the bandage anyhow. Thanks.”

She shrugs. “Didn’t want you bleeding all over the table.”

The sound of footsteps floats over, and Trini turns, expecting Billy to start rattling off a story interspersed with apologies. She stops short when she realizes that it’s not him. Instead, it’s Kimberly Hart. The sleeves of her jumper are rolled up, and she’s walking towards them with a book in her hand.

Jason sits up. “Hey Kim,” he says, and Trini holds back a scoff. What a cliché.

Kimberly raises an eyebrow at Jason, the corners of her mouth turning up into a small smile. She waves the book in the air.

“I’m guessing this is yours.”

“Thanks.” He reaches out slowly, carefully taking the book from her. “That thing’s got a pretty mean bite. How did you manage to catch it?”

Kimberly shrugs. “It’s pretty easy. They have a lot of snapping power, but they can’t really open themselves.”

“Kind of like a crocodile.” The words leave Trini’s mouth, and she feels her face flush as the others turn to look at her. She coughs and averts her gaze, feeling mortified.

“Actually, yeah. Exactly like a crocodile.” She’s startled at the acknowledgement and she looks back up, but Kimberly is already walking away.

“I’ll see you later, Jace,” she says over her shoulder, her hair waving through the air slightly as she disappears behind a bookcase. Trini finds herself wondering how Kimberly even found them, if she knew that Jason and Billy used this spot. She wonders whether, if she stays here, she’ll be seeing more of Kimberly Hart in the future.

“…Trini?”

She blinks. “Hm, yeah?”

Jason regards her. “You just had like, a spacey look on your face, is all.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good.”

Jason nods. “Well. That was Kim, she’s a friend.”

“I know who Kimberly Hart is, Jason. And Billy told me everything.”

At that, Jason suddenly becomes more alert, a concerned look on his face. “What do you mean ‘told you everything’?” he asks, a slight edge to his voice.

She tenses, mentally cycling through everything she said to find what might have set him off. “Um, just that you and her used to date a few years ago, but that you’re ‘good friends’ or something.” She throws up air quotes, and Jason relaxes.

“Oh. That. Yeah.”

Well that’s certainly interesting, she thinks. She’s definitely curious about Jason’s reaction, but she also knows better than to go poking into other people’s business, so she doesn’t ask, and simply turns back to her work.

* * *

The following hours are relatively uneventful. After leaving her books in her dorm, she heads down to the Great Hall, a little late for dinner. She catches Billy outside, leaves clinging to his sleeves and some dirt smudged on his face. They don’t have much time to chat, but he cheerfully agrees to meet her and Zack on the pitch in the morning.

After dinner, Trini doesn’t quite feel like her head is in the right space to continue working, so she decides to walk around the castle a bit. She doesn’t have a particular destination in mind; she just enjoys watching the hallways pass, taking in all the little signs of magic that linger in every corner of the castle.

It’s not quite curfew yet, so many of the older students have the same idea as her. She hears snippets of conversations as she walks by, but none of them seem to notice her. She’s perfected the art of blending into the background—less trouble that way.

“… understand why he hangs out with that Cranston kid.”

Trini slows her walk when she hears Billy being mentioned. She surreptitiously inches closer, her curiousity getting the better of her.

“Let’s be honest, Jason is already a prefect and captain of the quidditch team. People love him, he doesn’t need to hang out with that charity case anymore. And I hear he watches their practices, which is so creepy.”

Trini bristles at that. The source of conversation is a Gryffindor boy talking to a Ravenclaw girl, who is nodding in agreement.

“I know what you mean. And he’s honestly so annoying? It’s bad enough that our house has a stereotype of being obsessive; people like him just make it worse. He’s so… weird. It would be better if he could just act normal.”

The tone of disgust in the girl’s tone is what makes Trini decide to confront them. She couldn’t understand how someone could talk about a member of their own house like that.

“How do you define ‘normal’?” she says, catching their attention as she strides towards them. “Is it ‘normal’ to shit-talk people behind their backs? Because I gotta say, if that’s what you think, you’ve got some pretty effed up standards.”

She can practically feel the aura of superiority oozing off of the pair as they regard her. “Have you ever heard of minding your own business?” the girl jabs.

“Only as much as you’ve heard of basic human decency.” That earns her a glare, and the Gryffindor boy steps forward.

“You got a problem with us? Because I’m pretty sure we weren’t talking about you.” He holds himself with more bravado than he actually has, and she rolls her eyes.

“No shit, uh… what’s your name? Actually, I don’t care.” She sees his face twitch, and she smiles on the inside. “And I do have a problem with the way you’re talking about my friend.”

Both of the bullies snort. “Wait,” the girl gasps out. “You’re actually friends with that guy? Yeah, and I’m a crumple-horned snorkack. That guy doesn’t have friends, you don’t have to be noble about it.”

She clenches her fist. “I’m not joking,” she grits out.

“Oh, and I’m sooo scared,” the boy mocks. “So what, you’re gonna stop us?”

“You know what they say: talk shit, get hit.” Her voice is calmer than she expects.

The Gryffindor sneers in her face. “Why do you even care? What is he, your boyfriend? That would be fitting, wouldn’t it, the freak dating another freak.” He turns to his friend and they laugh.

She’s usually not bothered when people try and insult her, but something about that comment makes her stomach twist. Hearing Billy referred to that way makes her jaw clench and her heart start to pound, and she acts before she can think.

The boy is in the middle of opening his mouth when she rears back and sinks her fist into his stomach.

He doubles over with a wheeze, and Trini backs up out of reach. She hears the boy’s friend swear, sees her reach into her robes, and Trini quickly whips out her own wand.

“Langlock!” She points her wand, and the Ravenclaw chokes slightly, grabbing at her throat.

Her gaze turns back to her first target, and he’s clutching his stomach and absolutely seething. He raises his arm, and she instinctively dives towards the floor.

A jet of water shoots past her, hitting the wall with audible force. She hears shrieks and yells as the spray catches some of the bystanders.

She’s rising to her feet when a light flashes and she feels a stinging sensation hit her arm, knocking her down. She waves her arm in the direction of the hex, sending out a Disarming Charm, and she hears a grunt as her spell hits.

Suddenly, a magical shield is conjured, so strong that Trini is pushed back slightly. Shit. She scrambles to her feet, wincing and tenderly holding her swelling arm. Footsteps approach, and they all face the man who stopped their… confrontation.

“You’d better have a good reason for causing this much noise so late into the night.” He glares at them, but the look is made less intimidating by the fragile glasses that are sitting askew on his face. Still, the disappointment that radiates off of him is enough to make Trini avert her eyes and look at the floor instead.

The Ravenclaw girl makes a noise, gesturing to her mouth, and the man waves his wand, dispelling the jinx.

“She started it.” Trini meets the accusing stare boldly, and the other girl looks away. “She literally threw the first punch, we were acting in self defense.”

“Well, I was just reacting to you and your friend over here running your mouths.”

“If you hadn’t been sticking your nose in—”

“That’s enough!” They fall silent as the man sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Would either of you care to elaborate on what exactly you said that provoked Miss Gomez?”

Trini smirks to herself as they suddenly become much more reserved, mumbling vague answers back.

“That’s what I thought. Considering the amount of general disruption, particularly with regards to the hour of night, I’m taking ten house points from each of you.” He pauses. “Also detention. That seems fair.”

They all groan a little, but hush themselves when the man raises an eyebrow. “Sorry, Professor.”

He nods. “Off to the dorms with you. Except you, Miss Gomez,” he says, and Trini freezes. They wait quietly as the other students vacate the area.

Once the hallway is empty, he shakes his head. “Merlin, I have no idea how McGonagall put up with teaching for so many years.” He runs his hand through long, unruly hair, and she catches a glimpse of his forehead, and the legendary mark there.

“So,” Professor Potter continues. “Since neither of those two troublemakers wanted to give me a straight answer, would you care to comment on what just happened?”

She’s glad that Potter was the one who caught them, because at least now she has a chance of explaining herself. “They were saying things about Billy Cranston, and I tried to stop them.”

“I see.” He nods. “And did you really throw the first punch?”

At that, she feels slightly embarrassed. “I didn’t hit him in the face,” she says.

There’s a pause. Then, to her relief, he chuckles.

“Well, I can’t say that I never did things like this when I was in school. Still, as much of a pain as rules can be, they are there for a reason, and there are consequences for being caught breaking them.”

“Yes, sir.” She meets his eyes, and notices the small glint in his eyes.

“Bear in mind that there may or may not be any significance to the wording of ‘being caught’ breaking the rules. And if I may comment? The Bat-Bogey Hex is quite useful for intimidation purposes, if that’s what you’re going for. My wife was quite fond of it in our day.” He chuckles to himself, then winces. “God, I’m getting old, aren’t I. Well, good night, Miss Gomez. Be sure to get that arm looked at before you go to bed, the swelling can be a bitch in the morning.”

She smiles. “Good night, professor.” He walks off, and she stands for a moment in the empty hallway, taking in the silence before heading back to the Hufflepuff common room.

* * *

She fidgets as Zack and Billy stand in front of her, smiling. “So, how are we going to do this?”

“Don’t look at me for ideas, I just came to play quidditch,” Zack says, ruffling his hair and making his bedhead somehow worse.

Luckily, Billy seems to have come up with a semblance of a plan. “I was thinking that, now that you have people to practice with, it’d be good to have you try out all of the positions, since you said you’ve never really played before. I managed to talk Jason into letting us borrow some of the equipment.” He gestures to the large metal chest sitting to the side.

She nods. “In that case, let’s get started, I guess?” They all nod awkwardly for a second before Zack finally moves, launching into the air. The others follow.

They spend a bit of time just flying about to get warmed up. Zack starts practicing his usual tricks, almost causing a three-way pileup in midair at one point. Billy has a much more controlled style of flying, but he’s clearly still having fun. He notices her watching, and Trini almost feels embarrassed for a second, but Billy doesn’t seem to mind.

“Flying feels really nice,” he giggles as he whooshes past, and Trini is taken aback by the sudden warmth that she feels in her chest.

Eventually, they get round to training. Billy starts rattling off dozens of rules, facts, and statistics as he opens the chest, and Trini starts to feel her head spin a little.

“Slow down, my guy,” she chuckles, and Billy stops, grinning sheepishly. “Trust me, I’m super interested, but it is way too early in the morning for me to understand more than three sentences at a time.

“Right, sorry. Um… so let’s just start with the quaffle. Pretty basic stuff, just remember that the ball is enchanted, so it falls slower than you think.”

It turns out that the three of them work quite nicely as a squad, although Trini doesn’t think she can be a Chaser; unfortunately, the quaffle is a tad too large for her hands, so she can’t throw it very far or very accurately. Being a Keeper is an even worse idea, since her attempt at blocking Zack’s shot just ended up sending her through the hoop as well (Billy was concerned, but Zack wouldn’t stop laughing).

Billy is hesitant about bringing out the bludgers without supervision, but Zack just tosses her a bat and winks before letting one out. She’s pleasantly surprised to find that hitting a bludger is quite fun and stress relieving, and she sends it in Zack’s direction as revenge. They manage to get it back under control without anyone getting hurt, but she and Zack feel a littly guilty at Billy’s chastisement.

“And we already know you’re a pretty good Seeker, so we don’t have to walk you through that,” Zack says.

Rather than feeling a flood of embarrassment at the memory, she just smirks at him. “So you’re not up for a rematch, then. Afraid I’ll beat you?”

His eyes light up, and he’s about to respond when someone calls to them from down the pitch.

“Jason!” Billy practically runs across the pitch, and Trini is once again baffled by how so much good can exist in one person. Billy is chattering animatedly at Jason, who is doing his best to look involved while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. There’s also another figure that Billy waves out to, and Trini sighs when she realizes who it is.

“And we’re sure there’s nothing going on there?” Trini grumbles, and Zack follows her gaze.

“What, you mean Billy and Jason? Or Jason and Kim?”

“The latter, come on. Billy and Jason are Billy and Jason.” She looks back to see Billy talking to Kimberly now, who looks a lot more awake and put together than the rest of them.

Zack ponders them for a second. “I don’t think so? As far as I know, they’re just pretty good friends.”

Trini frowns. “Yeah, I mean, I get that, but she literally keeps turning up. I saw her at your quidditch practice, and then in the library yesterday, and now this. It’s just… weird.”

Zack shrugs. “I mean, I guess it’s just because you’ve been hanging out with Billy, and Billy loves Jason and Kim.”

“Billy is a pure soul.”

“Agreed.”

Billy waves as he and the others approach. “Look guys, Jason and Kim are here!”

Zack shares a high-five with Jason, and Trini gives him a little nod. As her eyes drift, she suddenly makes eye contact with Kimberly, and she involuntarily tenses. To her surprise, Kimberly offers her a polite smile, one that isn’t tinged with disdain or superiority that Trini is used to. Trini feels her ears start to heat up a little, and unsure how to respond, she just looks down, scuffing the grass a little with her toe.

“Do you guys mind if we share the pitch?” Jason asks. “Kim and I want to practice some drills.”

Billy nods, a tiny frown forming on his face. “Sure. I mean, I did have some things I wanted to try out with Trini and Zack that involve using the whole pitch, but like, we can skip those for today, I guess.”

The sun shines on Trini’s face, and she lifts a hand to shade her eyes. She blinks rapidly when she realizes how bright it is out, checking her watch.

“Shit,” she mutters, drawing the attention of everyone else. “I uh, I have an essay that I was gonna finish before class, so I have to head off. I’ll… see you guys later I guess?”

It seems a weird thing to say to a group of people she just met a few days ago, but they all wave her off as she heads back to the castle. Once she’s back in her room, she sort of just stands there for a few minutes wondering whether the whole thing had been an elaborate dream. There was something about that morning that had felt so… surreal. Putting the feeling out of her mind, she sat at her desk and tried to scramble out the last paragraphs of her essay before heading to class.

* * *

As much as she enjoyed the early morning training with Billy and Zack, she’s realizing that decision is slowly taking its toll on her. By the time she finishes her last class of the day, she’s struggling to keep her eyes open. She’s about to head back to her dorm for a nap when she remembers that Professor Potter gave her detention. With a long groan, she sets out towards the castle grounds.

She was told to meet the gamekeeper Hagrid for detention, and she feels mixed emotions. On the one hand, Hagrid was a lovely and gentle old man, and she would rather do menial tasks in the grounds than have to sit in the dungeons for several hours. On the other hand, she had heard many tales of how… unorthodox Hagrid’s detention sessions tend to be.

She sees his huge figure bending over in the gardens as she approaches. He catches sight of her as he straightens up, and he gives her a wave that looks more like he’s signaling an aircraft than a greeting.

“All right there, Trini?” he calls out in a booming voice, and she smiles softly and nods. “Brillian’. Well now, if you’ll jus’ follow me, we’ll go and meet up with the others then.” He grunts as he carefully makes his way out of the garden, and she trails behind him quietly.

“Oof. Looks like my legs ain’t quite what they used to be,” he says in a slightly labored voice as they make their way up an incline. He scratches his graying beard. “Guess I’m getting’ up there in terms of age, eh? There’s some out there, probably think that the groundskeeper should be a little more… spry, as it were. But I’ve spent most of my life carin’ for this castle, and they’re bloody well not goin’ ter kick me out now, are they?”

Trini laughs at that. “I would hope not. Everyone would be sad to see you go,” she says, and Hagrid looks down to give her a bashful smile.

“That’s quite kind of ye, Miss Gomez.”

She relaxes more and more as they walk, taking time to enjoy the sun and the grounds. Hagrid doesn’t expect her to say much in terms of conversation, carrying most it on his own with little stories. Trini is suddenly reminded of Billy, and how similar the two are, and she feels that peculiar sensation in her chest again.

“So ‘arry’s the one who sent ye, I see. Huh, imagine the look on my face the first time some kid showed up claiming a ‘Professor Potter’ sent ‘em. Y’know, I remember the first time this ‘Professor Potter’ showed up outside my hut for detention! He was a wee little thing, back then, and look at ‘im now. All grown into a man, and sendin’ kids off to detention. ‘Course, I don’ see ‘im like that at all. Ta me, he’s still the same little tyke that used ta go running through the castle with that invisibility cloak of ‘is.”

Trini does a double take. “Wait, so it is true? He actually does have one?”

Hagrid winces. “Ah, I shouldn’t ‘ave told ye that. Just keep it between you an’ me, eh?” She laughs, crossing her heart as she promises.

It turns out that there are two other people sharing detention with her, and when she realizes that she knows both of them, she feels slightly relieved, and then suspiciously uncomfortable all over again.

“Trini!” Billy claps his hands when he sees her, and she waves off the emotional whiplash.

“Hey. Surprised to see you here.” She’s responding to Billy, but the message is slightly directed to both of the other students.

“I was experimenting in the potions room in my free time, and I accidentally exploded three cauldrons in a row.” Billy shrugs.

“That’s a story I want to hear later,” she laughs, smiling at him.

There’s a slight pause before she nods at the other girl. “Kimberly,” she mumbles awkwardly.

“Trini.” Once again, Kimberly’s voice surprises her with its softness. She’s also impressed that the other girl even bothered to remember her name.

“Oh great! You all know each other, then.” She jumps slightly, remembering that Hagrid is standing next to her. They all turn to face him.

“So the good news is, you’ll all get a chance to walk about the grounds a bit today! No keeping you locked up in some dingy ol’ classroom. What’s happened is, some of the fifth years, an’ I won’t say any names, decided it would be a good idea to let some of the Blast-Ended Skrewts out the other day, so you three’ll be helping me track ‘em down and get ‘em back in their pen.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Billy make a face, while Kimberly just closes her eyes and heaves a heavy sigh. She realizes that Hagrid is still talking, and she listens.

“Now, trackin’ down these buggers can be a bit dangerous, but yer all old enough to handle it. Feel free to work as a group or by yourselves, although I wouldn’t recommend it, you might run into a load of them an’ then you’d be in trouble. When you find ‘em, just bring ‘em back to my hut an’ I’ll take care of the rest. Good luck!” With that, Hagrid lumbers back up the path, leaving the students behind.

Kimberly is the one to break the silence after Hagrid leaves. “So I think we should probably work toge—aaand he’s gone.” Trini turns and sees that Billy is already heading towards the greenhouses with a rather brisk pace.

“He’s probably just making sure that the skrewts didn’t mess up his herbology experiment,” Trini says.

“That’s fair. So I guess it’s just you and me? Unless you’d rather work alone as well.”

Trini briefly debates doing her own thing, but she’d rather suffer through the awkwardness and not get mauled by a skrewt. “We can work together.”

“Good.”

Trini silently prays that they run into a whole horde so she can get this over with as soon as possible.

* * *

As it turns out, neither of them really know how to find a blast-ended skrewt, besides the obvious signs of burned foliage. After about an hour of anxiety and wandering about, they’ve only managed to find one, and it nearly burned a whole tree down before they managed to flip it over and immobilize it.

“How many more of these do we have to find,” Trini groans as they hand the restrained creature over to Hagrid, who easily cradles it with one hand.

“Oh not that many more, actually. Billy’s gotten three of ‘em already, so its just a few more.”

“Sometimes I wonder how he does it,” Kimberly sighs.

Hagrid chuckles. “He’s got a way with the creatures, a boy after me own heart. If anyone were to replace me, I’d want it to be him, but he’s got big plans ahead of ‘im, that one does.” He offers both of them some water before sending them back out.

“It’s nice to know that appreciation for Billy Cranston is pretty common,” Trini says while they’re carefully combing through some bushes.

The edges of Kimberly’s lips twitch up in a half-smile. “You’d think so, but there are still some assholes out there who think otherwise.”

“Oh believe me, I know.” Kimberly gives her a questioning look. “I’m in here because I kind of got into a fight with some of those assholes. Didn’t get a chance to really have a go at them, but hopefully they won’t forget it anytime soon.”

“Really? I’d ask if it was a fair fight, but I think it’s safe to assume that they had a height advantage,” Kimberly jokes breezily, and Trini scoffs.

“Wow, Hart. Real original.”

They search in silence for a few minutes before Trini asks, “So what are you in for?”

She notices the way Kimberly tenses, and she almost wishes she didn’t ask. She replies after a moment. “I punched a guy’s tooth out.”

“Wow.” Trini blinks. “Totally didn’t take you for the fisticuffs type, but props to you, I guess.”

“Thanks, I guess?”

There’s a sudden rustling, and both of them whirl around, wands at the ready to defend themselves. They’re greeted with the sight of a very frightened Billy holding his hands up.

“It’s just me!”

They all relax, and Trini places a hand over her racing heart. “Thank god, I was wondering what happened to you.”

“Guys, guys. Shh.” Kimberly hushes them, and Trini can hear a faint rustling to their right. She meets Kim’s eyes, and they both nod before creeping forward.

“Wait, what? What are you guys gonna do?” She turns back to Billy, mouthing one second, before turning back to the source of the noise. The movement seems to be confined to a single spot in the bushes, and Trini waits until it stops moving before quickly pointing her wand, whisper-shouting “Flipendo!”

The spell hits, and she waits for the familiar squeal of the blast-ended skrewt, but it never comes. Instead, there’s a buzzing and chattering noise that grows persistently louder.

“Oh dear,” she hears Billy say, and when she turns around he’s already dashing off into the distance.

“Wha-“

“Oh shit!” Kimberly cries out, and she grabs Trini’s arm, taking off into a run and dragging her along. Trini stumbles, turning her head back to look, and her stomach drops when she sees a horde of doxies rising out of the foliage.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chants as she and Kimberly sprint through the grounds, the pixies in hot pursuit. Trini has no idea how to deal with this particular problem, and she realizes that might possibly be genuinely screwed.

“This way!” Kimberly grabs her arm again, pulling her off to the side. She’s breathing heavily now, and her heart is racing, the sound of a multitude of wings spurring her on.

Her eyes widen, and she skids to a stop when she sees that they’ve reached an outcropping that drops off into the lake. She frantically looks around, but the doxies are closing in on them, and there doesn’t seem to be any escape route. “It’s a dead end,” she says.

Kimberly is staring at the approaching swarm, biting her lip in concentration. Then, she turns to Trini. “I’m really sorry.”

Trini frowns. “Sorry about what?” She barely finishes her sentence before Kimberly promptly pulls her close, wrapping her arms around her before throwing them both over the edge.

The scream has barely left her mouth when they hit the water, and her breath is knocked out by the impact. She feels her soaked robes begin to drag her down, Kimberly’s arms are still wrapped tightly around her, and she tries push down the rising panic in her chest. She quickly realizes that she has no air in her lungs, and she tries to swim to the surface, but she’s still pinned to Kimberly, and her chest is beginning to ache. She begins to thrash, and Kimberly lets go of her, but she keeps a tight hold on Trini’s sleeve.

Suddenly, the water around her face shimmers, and she realizes that Kimberly has cast Bubble charms on them both. She takes several desperate breaths, squinting through the water and trying to send her most furious glare. The other girl points up, and they look past the surface of the water. There are several flickering shadows, and they wait for a few minutes until the coast looks clear before surfacing.

Trimberly sputters as the bubbling charm disappates. “What. The. Fuck.” She snarls. “A little warning would have been nice, maybe?”

“Well I’m sorry I didn’t take the time to explain when we were literally about to be eaten by doxies,” Kimberly bites back. Trini just scoffs and starts swimming to the shore (and she might splash Kimberly a little more than necessary).

It’s when they reach the shore that Trini realizes that her beanie got knocked off during their little swim. She sluggishly turns back to the lake, wand out, and then hesitates.

“What is it?”

“I lost my hat in the lake, and I was going to try and get it back, but… I have no idea what else will come out if I try and summon it.”

Kimberly looks out towards the water and shudders. “Yeah, that’s probably not a good idea.”

Trini side-eyes the other girl. “You owe me a new hat.”

She wasn’t sure if she meant it in a bitter way, but Kimberly certainly doesn’t take it like that. Instead, she smirks. “Alright then.”

She’s saved from trying to come up with a response when she hears Billy calling out to them from uphill. He and Hagrid are both waiting when they reach the top.

“Pretty clever thinking, going underwater. Doxies have really bad eyesight, and also they can’t swim,” Billy says as the girls cast drying charms on themselves, their teeth chattering.

“Yeah,” Trini weakly replies. “It would have been more impressive if someone didn’t decide to just throw us off a cliff.”

Kimberly rolls her eyes. “Well we’re all fine now, I don’t see what the problem is.”

“That was a mighty dangerous situation you got yourselves in, there,” Hagrid says, rubbing his beard worriedly. “Good thing Billy and I managed to nab the last of the skrewts while we were looking for you. Come along now, we’ll ‘ave a nice cuppa to warm you up.”

They’re all quite tired, so the walk back to Hagrid’s hut is relatively silent. They stay for tea, which takes longer than Trini expects, due to the cups being about the size of small bowls. After they finish, they say their goodbyes and head back to the castle.

“That was way more trouble than it should have been,” Trini groans as they walk through the main entrance. “And while I’ve always wanted to try swimming in the lake, that was not the way I wanted to go about it.”

“You’re never gonna let this go, are you? Or do I need to remind you who exactly was the one to knock over a doxy nest?”

“Right, as if you weren’t about to do the exact same thing—”

“So I’ll see you guys later then,” Billy interjects. She realizes that they’ve reached the stairs, and that they’re all headed in different directions.

“Right, yeah.” She shakes her head groggily. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Billy. Bye, Hart.”

“Bye, Gomez,” Kimberly says, mimicking her tone. Trini just grumbles under her breath while heading to the Hufflepuff dorms.

She gets some strange looks when she enters the common room, but her expression must have been tired and grumpy enough that no one dared to talk to her. She trudges up the stairs, barely managing to change out of her filthy robes before flopping down on her bed. The exhaustion sinks in, and soon she’s drifting off to sleep.

#trimberly fic #trimberly #kimberly hart #trini kwan #power rangers 2017 #my fic #hp!au #this is so overdue i'm so sorry

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