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#in exchange for having made her sore the previous night from screaming his name
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On the Edge of a Ramp
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Pairing: Sean x Fem! reader
Description: Sean is beaten on the skatepark by this new girl in town and, when he sees himself paired up with her for a school paper, they quickly grow to each other between sharp responses and pettiness.
Warning: swearings.
Word count: 3,426
A/N: This is such a vanilla enemies to lovers 😅🙈 I just can’t see Sean as someone who would hold a grudge against someone so intensely or even for so long. Have fun!
Requested by anonymous: can you make a sean diaz x reader enemies to lovers?
It wasn’t that Sean hated Y/N, or even disliked her. He just… wasn’t amused by her. Of course he had a reason for it, even if it wasn’t the most justified one: she was his rival at the skatepark. He always thought it was a childish, foolish reason to not like her, but it was what it was, and that fact that he didn’t want to feel that way wasn’t strong enough.
Lyla would always, but always bug him about it, to a whole new level that he thought it wasn’t possible for Lyla to be more annoying than his little brother Daniel.
The first day that she went to the skatepark, Lyla went back home with him.
“How was the skatepark?” Asked both Daniel and Sean’s father, Esteban. Unfortunately, Sean wasn’t fast enough on the answer.
“Sean’s got a new girlfriend,” Lyla teased as she rushed Daniel’s hair.
“What?!” Daniel screamed, but Esteban had only a small smile on his face.
“You?” He asked. “A new girlfriend?” If Sean doesn’t knew his father he’d say the old man was sounding a little ironic.
“No way this butthead got a girlfriend!” Daniel exclaimed.
“Daniel. Language,” it was all Esteban said to the little Diaz, who mumbled an excuse that he didn’t really mean.
“Lyla’s just messing around, this girl actually sucks,” Sean threw his backpack and skateboard on the corner and went to sit heavily on the couch, sighing. He missed the look that both Lyla and Esteban exchanged.
“Care to join us for dinner, Lyla?” Esteban asked.
“What’s on the menu?”
“Tonight is pizza night,” Sean said from the couch.
“Then I’ll stay,” the girl stated, sitting next to Sean. “How’s your knee?” She asked in a low tone.
“It’s fine, it was just a scratch. It didn’t even bleed.”
“That girl kicked the hell out of your butt.”
“Thanks for the reminder, it wasn’t like I already forgot that.”
“So…”
“So what?” Sean never got angry at Lyla before, but she was testing his nerves.
“Whatcha gonna do about it?”
“I planned on just sit on the couch and eat some pizza.”
“No payback?”
“No payback.”
But of course this wasn’t true. Sean did want some payback, he just had no idea of what it could be. 
*
Apparently, everyone at school knew about what happened the previous day at the skatepark. “How come is everyone gossiping about it? It’s not even a big deal,” Sean complained between teeth.
“Well, it wasn’t a big deal to you,” Lyla said, air quoting. “But to everyone, this sounds like the new girl, who no one knows a thing about, just kicked your ass.”
Sean clicked his tongue in annoyance. “High school sucks, dude.”
“Do you know what really sucks?” Lyla asked. She had that glimmer in her eyes that Sean knew pretty well, but he’d always fall for the bait.
“What?”
“Having a whining bestie. See ya!” Lyla took off as the ringbell shouted.
“Saved by the bell…” Sean muttered to himself as he opened his locker and got his book for the right class.
*
Sean sneaked away at the end of school so he wouldn’t bump into Lyla or any of his peers - it was a difficult task, to sneak away from Lyla, but Sean assumed that she was too busy being all over the new girl, just like everyone else was.
He knew Lyla thought she was cool, even if she insisted on saying the opposite: “I think you’re cooler.” Yeah, right, the boy thought to himself.
Sean intended on practicing in the garage, since his father wasn’t working on anything in there and Daniel was going to his friend’s house to play some new game. He wasn’t going to give up just because some new girl basically shamed him at the park, and he still wasn’t sure what to do to give her a comeback, but one thing he was certain: he had to get better with his board.
He was easily defeated on what they bet, and sure enough that girl would defeat anyone from his school, but a boy could hope, right?
*
One week had passed smoothly by. Sean kept training away from curious eyes; Lyla and the rest of the school seemed to forget about his loss - except Daniel, who kept bugging him about who the girl was -, and the school was still all over the new girl. Sean didn’t bother to remember her name, until the unexpected happened.
“Diaz, you’ll pair up with the new student, Y/L/N.”
Sean thought that being hit by his worst nightmare would make him scream but, instead, he only melted on his chair, slowly sliding down and hitting his forehead on his desk, completely defeated like a pancake that went wrong.
“C’mon, don’t make a scene out of it,” he heard a girl say in front of him. Once he straightened himself, he saw it was Y/N. He would make Lyla pay for not making this class with him. “The teacher’s taking us to the library,” she said, looking as she expected him to get up as it was some sort of command.
As a defiance, Sean looked her straight in the eyes and counted until sixty. Just to be petty. He noticed she didn’t look away.
“Okay. Let’s go,” he said after a full minute, grabbing his backpack and his book. Sean was never one for being challenging - he was actually pretty chill -, so this act of him took all of his courage and now he felt trembling on his legs. He was so sure that, if he continued to act like that, she’d probably ended up hating him.
Good, he found himself thinking. I don’t need her to like me.
“I like the end tables,” she said after you two entered the library.
“Whatever,” Sean answered, even though he sat at the table that she picked. What a great way to show some dominance, Diaz, he complained to himself, opening his book on what he thought was the right page and, fist on his cheek, started reading.
Or at least he tried to.
Sean couldn’t focus on the fact that he was paired up with her in this school paper, of all people. He couldn’t stop wondering if people were going to gossip all over again.
“I wanted to say that your book is upside down, it’d be funnier, but it’s only on the wrong page. Actually, on the wrong topic,” she said, sounding like a know it all. Sean felt his cheeks heating up and looked for the right topic, peeking at her book. After a few tries, he found it.
“On the wrong topic,” he mocked her and her coast accent.
“I can hear you, you know?”
“I was hoping so.”
“You really do sound like a loser.”
And that was it for Sean. He closed his book, shutting it with more strength than necessary, took his things and stormed out of the library. “Who does she think she is?” He complained out loud in the empty corridors. As he went to his locker, he thanked the whole universe that he brought his skateboard to school today. It was easy to sneak out, even though it wasn’t his last class of the day.
Sean let his skateboard guide him, but of course he ended up being in nowhere less than the skatepark. He trained and trained; sliding, carving, flipping, anything easy that he could improve to be faster, more agile.
But it wasn’t enough, not until he knew the same tricks as Y/N did, or even more, and way better.
But why was he dwelling on such things? Just because he lost a stupid bet? To an unknown person? Of course that now she wasn’t that unknown anymore, but still, it shouldn’t matter. It would matter and really hurt his ego if she was a better artist than him, which would make him be legitimately disappointed with himself.
It actually bugged him a little that he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
“I knew you’d be here,” Lyla said behind him. “But I thought you’d be, you know, doodling and stuff,” she threw her arm around his shoulder, squeezing it. “Let it go, man. No one even remembers what happened anymore.”
Sean pouted, looking sideways.
“No pouting at your best friend - only drawing me! C’mon, draw me like one of your french girls.”
Lyla took her own skateboard and, flipping, started skating around the park. Sean sat on his board and started doodling Lyla as she tried to noseslide. More people filled the park, but Sean kept his eyes on his best friend, not losing sight of her. He doodled Lyla on various positions now - be sliding, flipping or failing to grind. He even got the luck to draw her falling.
“Not your best work, Diaz!” She shouted as she realized what he was drawing.
Spending time with Lyla did really lift up his mood, and he hugged her as they parted ways.
Opening the front door of his house, Sean already knew what was coming his way. His father wasn’t looking so amicable.
“You got anything to say, mijo?” Esteban had his arms crossed in front of his chest and a serious look on his face.
Sean only sighed. “No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left school, but I was just…”
“What? What were you just that made you leave school when you shouldn’t?”
“I was angry, okay?” Sean dropped his backpack and skateboard, crossing his arms too. “Y/N just pissed the shit out of me…”
“Language, boy.”
“And I can’t stand her, okay? She said that I sound like a loser, which I probably do, but who is she to say these things? It fucking sucks that I have to do this damn paper with her…”
“Tone it down, Sean,” his father warned.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I just don’t like her. I don’t want to do this paper with her. She thinks she’s so… much better than me, I don’t know, just because she won the bet at the park.”
“Weren’t those things supposed to be fun? Bet at the skatepark, do some tricks with that thing that you carry around,” Esteban gestured to the skateboard. “It’s all part of the fun, mijo. Don’t be a sore loser.”
“I’m not a sore loser. It was shameful to lose for a girl that no one knew, and next thing I knew she’s this new student, and everyone kept talking about it more. And she was standing there, receiving all the glory for just a stupid bet. Like if she was the queen of the world.”
Esteban patted Sean on the back and hugged his son.
“You know what you’re going to do? You’re gonna forget all about that, finish this paper with this girl, and move on. The Diaz don’t hold a grudge against anyone. Just sound like you don’t care and you’ll be fine, mijo.”
“I’ll try,” Sean sighed. “She’s terrible, y’know?”
“You already told me, I know,” Esteban smiled, a smile that Sean still couldn’t quite tell what it meant. “Go to your room and do your homework. And do not, in any circumstances, repeat what happened today.”
*
Sean didn’t want to speak with Y/N, but someone had to take the first step so they could finish their paper.
But of course that, as always, he got behind of himself and Y/N was the one to take the first step.
“What you think of trying to finish the paper after school? At the library?” She was standing in front of his locker. Was she waiting there for him? And if so, for how long?
“Excuse me,” he only said, in front of her.
“The paper, Diaz. Did you already forget?”
“I meant the locker, you’re blocking the way,” Sean tried to sound neutral, but he was a bit sharp.
“Oh.”
He noticed that she sounded ashamed, but she stepped aside. He opened his locker, grabbed his books and, without looking at her, he said: “Sure, library after class. See ya there,” and left.
Once again Sean felt trembling on his legs, like if that attitude consumed everything that made him who he was and contradicted it. He had to sound like he didn’t care, but was that the right attitude? How could he be chill and careless at the same time? You got this, Diaz, he kept thinking to himself. Soon enough she won’t be able to get you on your nerves anymore.
*
Y/N was sitting in front of him, and he dared to say that she simply looked… weird. Like if she was holding a fart that she knew she couldn’t release, like Daniel did in the dinner table.
“Are you okay?” Sean asked, and immediately regretted. He didn’t care if she was okay or not, or at least he wanted to look like he didn’t care.
“I’m fine,” she answered way too quickly.
Sean wanted to say that she looked all things but fine. Instead, he found himself doing the unpredictable.
“Your book’s on the wrong topic,” he said as he looked down at his own book, just peeking at her at the top of his eyelids.
He saw her expression turning alarmed as she looked down at her book, then she looked confused, brows furrowing.
“Gotcha,” Sean said with a smirk before she could say or protest anything.
“Touché,” she said, looking rather shy, which was an unexpected trait for her. “I guess I deserved that.”
“Yeah, you did.”
“We’re even?”
Sean didn’t respond, not because he wanted to be petty - again -, but only because he didn’t know the answer. Were they even? He did want to forget all of that stupid rivalry, but he didn’t feel like they’d turn out to be good friends. She was too sassy, too loud, too…
Sean looked away as a stripe of sunlight came through the window, enlightening a lock of her hair.
“I guess this is a no.”
Was the hint of disappointment that crossed her words? Sean couldn’t say. Minutes have passed in silence before any of them said anything.
“Have you done your part?” Sean asked in a careful tone.
“Not yet,” she murmured. 
“Lemme know when you finish,” Sean said and pulled his sketchbook from his backpack.
He started doodling carelessly, being wrapped up in his own bubble when he started working on his sketchbook. Everything around him turned off - he couldn’t hear what people spoke, only a sound here and there, if he wanted to really pay some attention. It was just him and his journal, his go-to pal.
“You’re really good at this.”
The sudden voice startled Sean, making his hand go all the way through the page, making an ugly scribble. “Damnit,” he cursed, to no one in particular.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Y/N said. “You’re gonna hate me more now, won’t you?”
“What?” Sean blinked, processing her words. “Hate you? I don’t hate you,” he tried to erase the scribble without erasing much of the drawing itself.
“I thought you did, because, you know… I was such a show off at the park the other day, and because of what I said yesterday. Now I fucked up your drawing. I just don’t know when to shut the fuck up.”
“You really don’t,” Sean said, alien to his surroundings and to Y/N herself. It came to him that he probably hurt her with his comment, and even though she did hurt him yesterday, he didn’t want to hurt her back. His father wouldn’t approve of this. “But it doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing…” he stuttered on his own words.
“I see what you’re doing, there’s no need. Thanks anyway.”
“It just sucks, you know?” Sean spat, not caring for the fact that he told himself he would never bring that subject up. “Being picked up at school because of some random person at the skatepark. And then you were here, being all show off, and people started making fun, just because I lost at something that I know I’m not really good at. I’m not serious about skateboarding. I just wanna hangout with my friends and have some fun. You also didn’t help at all to keep the situation light.”
Sean’s face was buried in his sketchbook as he brushed up some lines. He realized the wolf in his drawing wore the same shorts that Y/N did when she was skating. He erased them and drew something new.
“I’m sorry,” he heard her saying. “I wanted to say that the whole day, but it’s not an easy thing for me.”
“Apologizing?”
She only nodded.
“Okay, but under only one condition,” Sean said, still not looking at her.
“Whatever you want,” she seemed eager. Sean bit his lips before saying.
“You gotta teach me that trick. That’s really awesome, and I can’t pull it off by myself.”
She smiled, and Sean would never, in a thousand years, imagine that such a smile would get him strucked. The sunlight in her hair was long gone, but she still looked bright.
“Diaz, you have the honor to be my first pupil,” she said, all smiles and brightness. Something in his stomach twisted.
*
It was the middle of the week, so the skatepark wasn’t packed with people going back and forth on their boards, which was a good thing for Sean, he supposed - he’d hate it if any of his peers saw him learning anything like that in public.
Y/N was trying to teach him an underflip, but Sean wasn’t concentrating enough.
She’s so close, he kept thinking.
“Dude, are you listening to me?” She complained. Sean only nodded. “Okay, then at least get your feet right. Here,” she pointed with her right foot. Sean stepped there. “And here,” he also stepped there. “Remember to keep your feet out of the way so your board has room to flip. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Try again.”
Sean tried, once again, unsuccessfully. “I keep landing primo, this sucks,” he complained.
“It’s fine, I landed a lot like that in the beginning. It’s all part of the process.”
“I don’t think I’ll get it today.”
“Keep your hopes up, Diaz.”
“You think I’m kicking the board up from below right?”
“You’re doing everything right, you just need to practice more, especially your landing. You can practice landing with one foot, if that’s the problem.”
“I think I rather take a break.”
“Or that works too.”
The two of them sat on the edge of the ramp. Sean noticed that her pinkie was far too close to his own - just a few millimeters and they’d be touching. He took a deep breath and looked away.
“Washington has this weird air, but I like it here.”
“How was California?”
“Sunny and warm,” she smiled at him, and Sean felt again that same pinch. “Hey, I’m sorry I was such an asshole.”
“I already forgave you, cut it out.”
“I mean it,” then she grabbed his hand, and the world stopped, and all Sean could see was Y/N.
“You’re forgiven, you know that,” his voice didn’t sound his own voice at all. His voice was hoarse.
She was gazing at him, and if eyes could burn, Sean would’ve already turned into a pile of ashes. He decided it was okay for him to get closer to her, his knee touching hers. The tip of her index finger drew circles on his palm.
“This is weird, isn’t it?” She asked, looking down at her own feet.
It was supposed to be weird, Sean thought, but it wasn’t, not really. He only nodded negatively and mumbled a no. Y/N intertwined her fingers with his and they sat together like this on the edge of the ramp, looking down at all the people skating, jumping and sliding around.
“This is kinda unpredicted.”
“All the unpredicted things have happened the moment you showed up,” Sean said, sounding confident.
“Is it now?” She giggled, and the sound of her giggles made Sean want to look at her, the sun resting on her face, and he wondered if it was warm, or how soft her skin would be.
Sean kept taking in all of her facial features until she broke the moment. “Don’t ruin it, Diaz.”
“Of course not,” he said, cupping her chin with his thumb and index finger, pulling her face up so she could look at him. “I won’t ruin it unless you tell me to.”
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mageofseven · 4 years
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Part 2 of this ask! It is the Undateables' version of this post.
Enjoy~
~
Diavolo:
MC was, surprisingly enough, attacked outside the Demon Lord's castle.
Diavolo had invited them over to have tea and tell him more about the Human realm and their experiences. The two did this every now and then.
The human was stalked the entire way though and when the minor demon realized where they were headed, they panicked and decided to attack them before they made it through the gates.
Lord Diavolo was in his office, trying to do his paperwork as he waited for them, but was bored. He just happened to look out his window and see his exchange student getting attack outside his home.
The demon was brave, he'd give him that. Sadly, he was also a fool and needed to die.
Diavolo rushed out to MC's aid and just his presence alone was enough to stop the attacker.
MC passed out right as the prince started dismembering the lower demon.
The human later woke up in a guest bed in the castle. All of their previous deep cuts from getting mauled by the lesser demon were gone, as were most of her bruises. However, they also felt exhausted and extremely sore all over.
It took her a minute to realize that the prince was sleeping at the foot of her bed. He sat in a chair and was leaned forward so his arms and head were against the bed.
He... he saved them and now stayed by their side as they slept? Why?
The man suddenly yawned and stretched his arms. He turned his head and noticed the human was awake.
"Ah, I'm glad you're alright." He gave them his usual grin for a moment before letting it fall in favor of a more serious look. "I'm sorry for the actions of my citizen, but he has been taken care of."
"Oh... it's fine." MC mumbled. "But... wasn't I hurt?"
He smiled again. "I had Barbatos heal you up. We didn't have many human-safe options, but we had a potion in stock that boosted your body's ability to heal itself, but it took a lot of energy from you. I'm afraid you've been out for about a day and a half."
Ends up calling Barbatos in for some food for MC and the prince changes the subject in favor of asking questions about their life in the Human realm, the reason they came all this way to begin with.
Despite the attack and being sore, MC still enjoyed her time with Diavolo, as usual
And honestly, they were touched that he seemed to care for them.
Yes, he's the prince and has to make sure his exchange students are safe, but if that was all it was, they wouldn't have woken up to the man at the foot of their bed, seeming as if he had waited awhile for them.
Lord Diavolo was a good man. A good friend.
Barbatos:
The butler was out shopping for some specific ingredients he needed for Lord Diavolo's dinner.
Didn't expect to bump into MC or find them in such a predicament, but didn't hesitate to step to step in.
Without giving any reaction at all, the man walked up behind the attacking demon and snapped his neck.
"Sorry for the intrusion, but I believe you were in the need of assistance." He told the human, reaching out a hand to help them up. "Are you alright?"
"B-Barbatos?" The human's gaze seemed empty. "I can't see anything..."
The demon frowned, now noticing the burn marks around their eyes. Looks like they were hit with the minor demon's poison shot.
"It'll be fine now." He gently wrapped an arm around them and helped the bruised human up before stepping back and simply taking their hand. "I shall take you back to castle to heal you."
And so he did. MC kept a tight hold of the butler's hand, scared of the emptiness and little patches of light that was now left of their sight.
At the castle, Barb guided them to a couch in one of the parlor rooms and dismissed himself to go retrieve the medicine. MC waited patiently, albeit uneasily, and couldn't help but sigh in relief when they heard the door open.
"Please lay your head back and close your eyes."
The human hesitated, but did as they were told.
Suddenly, they felt some kind of paste be wiped over their eye lids. The human gasped and bit their lip.
"Forgive me, I know the cream burns." He explained. "Please just give it a moment--"
The human reached out and, after a few misses, grabbed onto the demon's hand. He raised an eyebrow.
"I see. Very well, squeeze my hand if you need to."
As the paste was absorbed through their eye lids, it detoxified the eyeballs beneath, causing a strange pink steam to come from their face. The human let a few whimpers slip and squeezed the butler's hand till the burning had stopped and the steam had disappeared.
"You may open your eyes now; slowly please."
The human carefully open their eyes, which were now watery and red, but could see the world around them once more.
Barbato handed them a handkerchief.
"Thank you..." The human said softly before wiping their eyes.
"No need for such thanks." He smiled at them before rising. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll have to update my lord about this incident. Please wait, as I assume he'll want to speak with you and apologize on behalf of his people."
Like you'd expect, Barbatos was calm throughout the entire process. He made taking care of the blinded human seem effortless.
What MC wasn't aware of, however, was how his heart sank when he saw them get attack or how his eyes widen just a bit when he found out they were blinded.
He couldn't allow himself to actually show his concern because he had to keep his professional facade up
However... he was grateful that it all ended well.
Solomon:
The three of them had gone to a party together: Solomon, Asmo, and MC.
The three of them did this occasionally, enough so that the sorcerer knew Asmo didn't keep an eye on MC as well his older brother had stressed that he should.
In order to keep the nights relatively drama-free, the sorcerer silently took up babysitting duty with the other human.
Solomon still drank and talked with the demons around him, but he always made sure he knew where MC was at all times.
At one point, however, the sorcerer realized he hadn't checked up on the other human in a while.
He scans the room the room for them, only to barely catch them stumbling up the stairs with another demon.
Okay, that was enough. He excused himself from the succubus who had started chatting him up and went up the stairs to check on MC.
The demon was trying to drag them into a room while they kicked and tried fighting them.
Solomon snapped his fingers. Suddenly, the demon's ass was on fire. Screaming, the lower demon ran off, likely trying to find a solution to his new predicament.
The sorcerer kneeled down on the floor, where MC had found themselves after being thrown forward by the burning demon.
"Are you alright?"
The human, a bit teary eyed but somewhat calmer than he suspected, nodded. He frowned when he noticed bruises on their arm from the lowly demon's grip.
"I believe this has been enough for one night." He gave them a light smile. "I'll take you home."
Solomon helped his friend up and sent a quick text to Asmo, explaining their current departure, before guiding the other human down the stairs and teleporting them to House of Lamentation.
The sorcerer wasn't a fan of MC joining them at parties anymore, but never tried stopping them. Instead, he kept an even closer eye on them to the point where the other human often complained it was a bit creepy. He'd smile and apologize, but keep his eyes on them anyway.
There will not be a second incident. Not with him there.
Simeon (with Luke):
The two were coming back from shopping for baking ingredients since MC was coming over to Purgatory Hall to bake with Luke.
On their way back, about half a block from their dorm, was when they found the human, being held up by their neck by a lesser demon.
Luke screamed their name as Simeon ran up, transformed into his full angel form and radiating holy light.
The demon, screeching as the light burned him, dropped MC and ran.
The human passed out just in time to see both angels' faces above them.
When they woke up about an hour later, they were laying on the couch in Purgatory Hall, all bruises gone from their body.
"You're okay!" The little angel sprung up from where he sat on the floor while he waited for them to awake.
Hearing his words, Simeon came in from the other room and smiled at the human.
"Thank goodness. You really gave Luke a scare."
"Hey! You were scared too!"
The older angel just gave a small laugh.
"Regardless, it's nice that you are awake now."
The three talked and the angels found out that MC left early to visit them, but was attacked during the walk. It was basically what Simeon had expected.
The older angel had also healed them of their wounds as soon as he carried them inside the dorm, explaining the lack of marks on the human's body.
Since the human was still a bit sore from the attack however, Simeon decided it was best to take a raincheck on the baking; he gave Lucifer a call, updating him about the incident, and ten minutes later, Mammon was at the door, ready to walk MC home.
The incident really worried the two angels; they really started to wonder if MC staying at House of Lamentation was the best thing.
Luke insisted that the two of them could protect MC better than the Brothers.
Simeon didn't really speak his opinion on the matter to the boy, but told him that the human's living arrangements likely wouldn't change, even if the two spoke up about it.
Instead, the older angel kept an eye on MC while they were with him and Luke and when they had to part, he made sure they were leaving with one of the brothers or that they stayed till one came for them.
Honestly, Simeon felt that was all he could do for them to prevent it from happening again.
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agwitow · 3 years
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(Inspired by this prompt, and a quasi sequel to my laundress fic...)
There were vague rumours about the Duke --mostly mutterings from the elderly in town-- though the few times he had visited Fallholt, he had seemed to be a quiet but kind lord. Younger than expected, given the elders mutterings, though most assumed whatever dark rumours were half-remembered had been about the Duke's father or grandfather.
Those who worked at the Duke's castle had little more information about him. He mostly kept to himself, only interacting with a few elderly servants who had to have started working for his grandparents. Rarely did he even entertain other nobles.
Some said he was nursing a broken heart. That the one he'd intended to make his Duchess had left one day, without so much as a farewell. But no one had any recollections of such a person. Perhaps, like the other odd rumours, it was a story about a previous Duke. Perhaps it was just a fanciful tale invented by bored maids wanting to cast the Duke as some sort of tragic prince.
Whatever the truth, the invitations received by each family were met with a mix of excitement, confusion, and more than a little bit of suspicion.
His Grace, Lord Robyn de Nikoi, Duke of Fallholt, requests the presence of one person from each household for an evening of celebration and entertainment.
Those accepting, must be above the age of majority, and should be in good health.
The seal at the bottom of the letter depicted a stag with brambles wreathed around its neck. This, too, added to the confusion since the Duke's flag was a black rose against a field of green and yellow.
Some chose not to attend, even going so far as to offer their invitations to those houses where they couldn't settle on who would go. In the end, almost 150 people attended the Duke's celebration.
Distant though the castle was, lights and faint strains of music lingered long into the night. So long that no one was too surprised that none of the attendees had returned by morning.
By that evening though, with still no sign of their loved ones, the townsfolk began to whisper the old rumours to each other. Those who worked at the castle were questioned as soon as they returned to their homes that night.
Yes, there had been a grand party with much food and drink. No, they hadn't seen any of the missing townsfolk. No, there hadn't been anything strange about the post-party mess they'd had to clean. Yes, they would look around the castle the next day for some sign or clue about what might have happened.
The entire next day was full of worry and tension, as everyone waited for their loved ones to return, or for some answers from the castle servants.
At long last, the servants returned, though they had little enough to report.
There was still no sign of the missing people, but there was also no sign of the Duke. The elderly steward had seemed unconcerned when questioned, though he'd had no answers either.
The townsfolk decided enough was enough. They would march to the castle at first light and demand answers. Were their loved ones still alive? Where were they? Why were they being kept away?
Though it wasn't ever discussed, each person who volunteered to go on that march made sure to find a weapon and ready it for the morning. Just in case the worst had come to pass.
Whether word of the impending mob had reached the Duke, or if it was simply a coincidence, the missing townsfolk slipped back into town in the pre-dawn haze. Screams and shouts of joy, surprise, and fear rang in the new day as the townsfolk found their missing loved ones sleeping in their beds as if nothing had been amiss.
There was much rejoicing, though by midday it had died back into confusion.
The missing men, women, and people had very little memory beyond enjoying rich food and drink. They hadn't even realized that they'd been gone for more than a single evening.
Worse, still, was that not everyone who'd gone had returned. Eight people never came home.
When asked, the returned ones couldn't say what had happened, or where they might be, but each knew that those eight would never return.
This only fed the reinvigorated rumours about the Duke.
Slowly, life settled back into its old routine.
So what if, on occasion, one of those who'd gone would stop and stare off into the distance with a frown? Or be unable to sleep for days at a time? Was it really so strange that they were changed somehow?
Not until the blacksmith pulled a white-hot iron from the forge with her bare hands, did anyone say anything about the changes.
How the baker's son had broken a solid oak table while kneading bread. Or how one of the clerks had eyes which glowed a soft amber I'm the dark. How a cleric's skin had become rough and cold, like stone. Or a tailor's skin glittered like scales whenever wet.
Suddenly, the changes were the only thing everyone could talk about.
Some thought it a sign of evil magic and wanted to drive those affected out of town, before the corruption could spread.
Others worried that their loved ones had never actually returned and these people who looked and sounded and acted like them were little more than constructs.
A few wondered just how far the changes went.
But everyone agreed it was the Duke's fault.
He had done something to them. Something they hadn't asked for, or agreed to. Something beyond their control.
None were more angry than those affected.
They decided the Duke owed them answers, and a few volunteered to go to the castle and get them. One way or another.
The next day, the blacksmith, baker's son, a trapper whose touch could burn, and the stone-skinned cleric returned to the castle.
The elderly steward met them at the gates. "His Grace has been expecting you. Follow me, please."
They exchanged looks, but followed along to a small audience room. An oval table with twelve chairs took up much of the space, and tapestries depicting a variety of forest scenes covered most of the walls.
The Duke was already seated at the head of the table, with a banner on the wall behind his chair displaying the stag-and-brambles. In colour, and with carefully embroidered detail, it became clear that each thorn on the bramble wreath had drawn blood.
"I was beginning to wonder if any of you would ever come back," he said. "It would have been better if you'd come sooner, but we will make do. Ask your questions."
This was certainly not what any of them had expected, and it took a moment before the cleric asked, "What did you do to us?"
"Straight to the complicated ones, I see." He gave them a small smile before gesturing for them to take a seat. "Allow me to tell you a story about a young girl and a magic pond."
The baker's son frowned. "You mean the old fairy tale where she wishes to be a princess and the pond summons a fairy prince who kidnaps her?"
"Is that the version being told now? Fascinating how it changes over the years. Yes. That story. Though my version is... rather different from what you know."
"We didn't come here for bedtime stories," the trapper grumbled.
"Humour me, please. It will all make sense after."
When there were no other objections, the Duke began his tale.
"Once upon a time, there was a young girl. The daughter of a minor lord with no money and no land. She traveled from one place to another with her father, who was forever looking for a way to rise in wealth and status.
"Though there was no money for a dowry, the lord made a deal with a Duke. In exchange for his daughter, he would be given a bit of land to oversee. The Duke was old and cruel, and none of his previous wives had provided him with an heir. Most were rescued by family when his temper left bruises that couldn't be hidden. The others had died.
"A father who cared more for status than his daughter's wellbeing was the type of inlaw who suited the Duke best. So a date was set and the girl --a young woman, by this point-- was sent to the Duke's castle.
"Her life was not pleasant, in the weeks leading up to the wedding, and her only solace was in exploring the untamed woods around the castle. Whether through luck, fate, or mischief, she found a hidden pond deep within the forest.
"Things might have gone very differently if she hadn't seen the Duke before he saw her.
"She hid and watched as he stripped his clothes off and waded into the pool. Red, angry looking sores covered much of his flesh, and they spread further as the water touched them.
"The Duke called out, demanding fair trade.
"'Fair trade?' a fae said with a laugh, appearing at the other end of the pond. 'You have traded virility for strength, the life of one of your wives for money and power, and now think to bargain for your virility back without giving up your strength. That is no fair trade.'
"'I will not be weak. Name another price,' he demanded.
"The fae shook its head. 'You must trade something of equal, or greater value, to receive my gifts.'
"'The life of my next bride,' the Duke offered. 'Or my best hunting hound.'
"'I will not be fooled by you again. You place no value on the lives of your wives, and you are no hunter. Both a wife and a hound are no more than accessories to you. Neither is a fair trade.'
"The Duke raged and screamed, but his anger had no effect.
"When his tirade ended, the fae yawned. 'How many more times do you think you can enter my waters with ill-intent in your heart? Soon you will have little flesh untouched by the mark of your greed.'
"The Duke didn't bother to answer. He simply climbed out and put his clothes back on. Though the sores would have hurt a lot, the young woman had no sympathy for him.
"Once he was gone, the fae called for her. She crept out and stood at the edge of the pool.
"'Hello, young one,' they said. 'There is much you wish for. Would you care to make a deal?'
"She shook her head.
"'Come now. Surely there is something you wouldn't mind giving up in exchange to be free of the Duke? Even if he doesn't spill your blood as payment, he will kill you in some other way.'
"She shook her head again. 'I will not trade away my future or memories simply to be free of my present.'
"The fae nodded. 'Perhaps a different sort of deal would suit you then? And before you shake your head at me, let me show you what the future holds.'
"They swept their hand through the water and as the ripples spread, images formed depicting war, chaos, and death. In many, the Duke laughed as the ground turned dark with the blood of innocents.
"'What trickery is this?' she asked.
"The fae sighed, sounding tired. 'No trickery. This is the most likely future, as things stand right now. While the squabbles of mortals would not normally concern me, the consequences of this... it will drain the magic from the land.'
"'What does that have to do with me?'
"'I need a champion. Someone who can change the course of things.'
"'Why me?'
"The fae sighed again, this time in frustration. 'I am bound to this forest, and this pond. I can not leave, and the Duke has made sure most people avoid the forest. You are the first person, other than the Duke, I have spoke to in more than a decade.'
"'And what would being your champion mean?' she asked, still wary.
"The fae grinned. 'A bit of skill, a dash of luck, and a vow to protect the magic of the forest.'
"'Where is the trick? The part that makes the hero regret such a hasty bargain in all the stories.'
"They shrugged. 'Not much of a trick. If you fail to keep the magic strong, your life is forfeit. Though I suspect if that happens, you will be dead already.'
"Perhaps it was arrogance, or desperation to avoid marrying the Duke, but the young woman agreed. And true to their word, the fae provided skill and luck. Enough to rescue a kidnapped princess. Enough to stop an assassin. Enough to replace the Duke."
As the Duke's words faded into silence, the four townspeople frowned.
The cleric shook his head. "The first Duke of Fallholt was given this land after rescuing the Emperor's daughter and uncovering a plot against him by several of his nobles --one of whom had been the Duke ruling these lands before."
"Yes."
"But you're claiming it was a young woman who did those things."
The Duke scratched his chin. "Shortly after rescuing the princess, I realized that despite being born a 'girl,' I was not actually one. People were more willing to believe it was a young man doing all the heroics anyway."
"Wait. What? No. That doesn't make sense," the blacksmith said. "You can't have done any of those things. They happened over a hundred years ago."
The Duke laughed, sharp teeth flashing for a moment. "Yes, they did. And perhaps ten years after them, I met a peculiar laundress who offered my a unique gift."
The trapper's fists clenched, tiny flames licking across their knuckles. "What does all that have to do with us?"
The Duke sighed. "The war Vyrnaed saw was only delayed by my actions. It is still coming. And this time I cannot prevent it from starting. But, with help, I can keep these lands safe."
"What did you do to us?" the cleric repeated.
"I took you to see Vyrnaed. They showed each of you what the future holds and offered a choice. Be slaughtered as the war rolls over us, or be changed so that we can defend our homes." He grimaced and glanced down. "I had expected them to grant you all skills and luck, like they did for me, but... I suppose they thought it fitting that I should lead non-humans, since I haven't been one in a very long time."
The baker's son shook his head vehemently. "No. We should remember it, if what you're saying is true. We remember nothing. And what of the eight who didn't return home? What did you do to them?"
The Duke shrugged helplessly. "As powerful as Vyrnaed is, there is a limit to how much they can do in a night. In order to have enough power to affect all of you a trade had to be made."
"You traded our memories of the evening." The blacksmith's voice was cold and flat.
"No," the Duke said gently. "Each of you agreed. It was your trade to make."
"And the others?"
"I had specified in good health... they did not survive the change."
The four townsfolk stared. It was too fantastical. But they couldn't deny that none of them were quite human anymore.
The cleric broke the silence. "When is this war supposedly coming?"
"If Vyrnaed is right, we have a fortnight."
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nothisis-ridiculous · 3 years
Text
Take Me Home Now: Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten: Another Mother's Breakin'
Set after the events of ME3.
A rewrite. Ao3.
FemShepxKaidan
"Jane."
The recruit let the knocking go on for a third round, slowly shaking herself from the rickety cot. While these digs were nothing as fancy as the bunk back at the mall, the privacy was a paradise. Blank, dull, metal-lined walls were a price she was willing to pay over the colorful and plant-lined walls of the barracks. The humming noise of life rebuilding, no she belonged in the silence.
"Jane." This time her name was a statement, backed by a hint of threat.
"Just a moment," she groaned, rubbing the crust from the inner corners of her eyes, pushing sore muscles upright and forcing a shirt over her head but allowing it to fall at its own pace. Her pupils narrowed at the sudden influx of light filling her half of the crate, "morning?"
Helen looked her up and down, that damned frown a returning friend, "you should put a comb through that hair."
"For fuck's sa-"
The woman made a sudden jerk, but it stopped with a simple raising of her arm, brushing aside a fallen lash, "language, dear."
"Sorry," Jane's eyebrows narrowed, had she forgotten she was not a child, "why are you here?"
"Because we are going out."
"Don't I have three more days?" Jane returned.
The older woman in a rare admittance of defeat sighed, offering back a raised eyebrow, "you're well aware that was a ruse."
"I knew it!" she didn't.
"Yes, let's be proud that you are stubborn as they warned," Helen retorted with a hint of a smirk, "but you should be ready. I'm not going to let you slide and get breakfast, either!"
Yes, this encampment was a military installment, but it gave no reason to ready herself with the rest of the soldiers. Since Rahna had given up on her she did little to get out of her bunk. So far, her secret remained, but pushing it by becoming a regular around camp seemed too big of a risk. Evelyn gave her some reason to get out, but the kid quickly found friends. Within days she was no longer needed, though the shit still visited at least once a day that prodded her into some form of semblance. The lack of duties cemented her decision to remain secluded, bidding her time with the running videos in her head.
"So why me?" Jane pressed once they cleared the base by a few thousand meters, pulling the ration bar from her mouth.
The woman's dark eyes turned cross, "and don't you waste those rations."
"You'll never want them again after fresh produce," Jane murmured, swallowing down the bland brick of nutrition in three bites.
"The second reason for coming out here," Helen handed over a pistol, "fresh meat and pest removal."
"You know, someplace on Illium would sell Varren skewers as a delicacy," Jane overlooked the pistol with a grin, "man, could that krogan grill up a mean varren skewer."
"The pistol is back up; you should use biotics. No stunts," she warned without heed of her companion's previous comment.
"I'm a paragon of caution," Jane mumbled in response, deciding then it was best to follow after the woman in silence. Pausing only as her leader stopped.
"No stunts," a finger waggled at her, "that kid and her grandfather want you back, and I intend to see that through, despite your best attempts."
Jane giggled, "the LT would love that one."
"Dismiss it all you like, whinge that someone cares about your sorry hide," the woman spat, "you're being selfish. Everyone is hurting if you haven't noticed."
Jane's face drew blank, "while it's true, doesn't it feel better to be pissed off? To be angry that everything is changed? Fuck everyone else. I'm hurting." She looked over the horizon, directly into the blue beam that connected to the Citadel. It seemed so tiny from here, so insignificant.
Helen's gaze followed Jane's gaze, "trying to remember how much worse it could be rarely helps."
"I like to make myself feel better by telling myself that I'm angering out of grief; it's one of the stages, right? But what is there after it? I don't want to let it go and accept my world is gone," Jane's voice mellowed to a whisper, "acceptance is terrifying. It means you have to move forward."
They shared a silent moment together, connecting with a brief touch—neither alone as they thought.
"Who did you lose?"
"My heart."
"Who did you lose?"
"...my heart."
Horizon- Horizon was an awkward fumbling in the dark. An overhanded display The Illusive Man decided to lord over her. He knew her strings and just how to pluck them to make her dance to his tune. Pulling Kaidan into the entire mess with the Collectors was a threat. But as messy and powerless as the knowledge of what the Illusive Man would take from her was the undercurrent of hope. It was foolish to be caught up in the giddy excitement of returned love, But Kaidan loved her. The first confession and bitter tug on her heart. She should have told him then.
Mars- Mars was just as awkward. Running, sliding, and dodging bullets after months of being cooped up in a small apartment awaiting trial. Sideways glances, and a Major who wouldn't stop dogging her every step. He questioned, prodded, and accused her of terrible things. Granted, she well deserved it. He was so close, so in sync as if the years were mere minutes... yet the distance between them was a canyon wide. But the Major loved her, even if it was once upon a time. A lighthearted exchange broke some of the tension, but she still should have told him then.
The Citadel- "What's up" had to be the lamest greeting after an armed standoff. Not a clasping hug, not a gentle smile, instead she vocalized her worry that he was angry. She hadn't taken the shot at Udina, and she had made Kaidan make that impossible decision. To trust her word, to trust an ex-terrorist. It was too much to ask of anyone- but now she was someone he was in love with. Not a past tense, a was, but a current thing. Still, she fumbled, asking him to let her have it and killing any hope of a romantic reunion. Her stolen glances at his backside caught in the act gave him a sheepish glance away and not the confession he was owed.
The Citadel Pt. II- After a shamelessly little amount of convincing, she had found herself in a dress. It was supposed to be simple- a snack on the Citadel. But she had hoped for more, the flirting, the longing stares, compliments, and a little bit of girlish enthusiasm from Kaidan she dared to think they had a chance. It was the first 'I love you' the extra 'I always have' sending her heart fluttering into erratics that she fought to control, lest she make a scene. The graze of his tender lips against her palm relinquished any grasp she had left on that errant heart, the thundering of the heartbeat clouding her brain. The jealousy the rest of her skin felt for her palm stealing another confession.
2181 Despoina- Kaidan would always rue his attraction to adventurous women. Not the woman, but the spark that drove him there. She was always at risk; her daily amount of adventure qualified as a heroic event for most other citizens of the galaxy. For her, it was a normal Tuesday night. But still, he worried, and still, he continued to love her for the constant stress she brought him. Loved her recklessness because it was as much part of her as her freckles. In the wordless hours of the night, his grip always tighter after a harrowing encounter, she was silent.
The Normandy- Neither of them wanted a quick drink. It was a little silly, after all these years, after all his confessions, to still feel insecure about inviting Kaidan up to her cabin. Instead of being direct, he invented the excuse of a short drink to see her. To comfort each other- when they both knew they needed it. Everything felt so final, the end a ticking bomb, an end to the short time they had together. She found strength in him, a safety in knowing she had someone that would catch her. He loved her openly and proudly. He loved her without needing the words returned.
London- It was unreal, after three years finally approaching the finish line. Loss and love in equal measure. Now, it was time for her to go it alone. It was unnatural, and she fought against the notion. She didn't want to be alone- not at the end. Not after this blissful glimpse into the way love had brightened every facet of her being. Kaidan would gladly face a bitter end with her, going arm in arm to meet Garrus at the bar. But it was a fucked kind of love that pushed her to make him leave. The same love that screamed at him to get the hell off the Normandy, the love that now albeit gently pleaded with him to live. It wasn't a roar or a cry of victory but a rumble- a tender declaration. Kaidan knew, even if it took him repeating his love a thousand times over. Six was a good number, short. The heart knew it was needed.
"So refresh my memory," Jane questioned in a whisper, trying not to draw the entire den of Varren upon them at once, "just how many we are planning on bringing back?"
"Are you that keen on vaporizing them all?"
"I certainly can."
"Wouldn't that defeat one of our goals?"
"Well, I don't think you accounted for the transportation of a Varren," Jane noted, looking behind them at the lack of vessel to transport said game.
Jane was ignored with a huff, the woman peering around a blockade, "I want that one."
Jane took a look, the brown striped specimen had to top the list of heaviest varren she had seen, "seriously?"
"Yes. Jane."
"Aye, Aye, Ma'am."
There wasn't time for a seething look or the smarmy reply that would have followed. The creature floated, air-bound as if the weight of the animal defied gravity. It kicked at the air, unable to stop itself from moving toward the barrier that blocked the scent of view of its hunters. Jane yanked her hand forward, dragging against the invisible weight. It felt good, if not for the shred of panic that she might lose time again. The tell-tale sign of blood was not forthcoming.
The blast of sound ricocheting through the plaza quickly overcame any remaining fear.
"Whatever you do, do not approach these things," the recruit barked, yanking the older woman into the corner spot, "they will overwhelm you if they get close."
"Aye, Aye, Ma'am."
The pack burst from all corners, running full boar in the direction of their fallen packmate. Several running members fell in the chaos, while a line of biotic energy sent the group careening into nearby walls and structures. For what inexperience was worth, Helen held up well, keeping up trained focus on the beasts. The old lady had precision aim, wasting hardly a clip during the charge. Jane didn't have to pick up much slack. Now, if there were a third member, everything would be peachy.
The square was silent for a count of three before a single varren cried out loudly.
The alpha was on scene.
While she had not promised to keep from committing to a hair-brained stunt, biotic shockwaves and lifts were boring. A teenage biotic could perform these moves without a sweat, a N7 needed a challenge. She needed the thrill. Blue waves coalesced and pulsed around her form, the familiar vibration against her skin pleasurable. A fluid vault over the barrier propelling her charge into the lone Varren, sending it toppling from the blow. Jane dove for it, pummeling it with blasts of biotic energy until her knuckles bled.
This was no longer a stunt but a method of release.
"Seems those biotics are back online," Helen murmured, wiping something from her eyes.
Jane cocked her head, "where'd you learn to shoot?"
"That? Oh. I thought they'd go out like a coyote."
The blonde smirked, dismounting the alpha's corpse, wiping her fists against a clean portion of the animal's hide. Nothing from Tuchanka went down quietly.
Helen stood over her prize, after a long minute she looked at Jane expectantly, "aren't you going to grab that?"
"Your trophy, your struggle," Jane folded her arms in return, a sly grin crossing her face, "besides, by the way we snuck out of that base, I don't need any more blame for this... what would you call this, stunt?"
"We did not sneak-" but the woman's face betrayed her guilt.
"Yeah, it's normal procedure to hop a barricade at the precise moment the guard changed," Jane knew a thing or two about sneaking out. She'd even stolen a ship twice.
Helen didn't have to struggle with the corpse long before Jane took pity on the woman; she had an unfair advantage anyway. Genetic enhancements, bone grafting, and a little biotic lifting. Unfortunately, she would still be sore when they got back to base.
"Why the need to sneak out anyway? I'm sure you could have roped anyone into helping you," Jane was under no illusion that the woman had any particular like for her, if anything, the woman looked at her with increasing scrutiny.
"None of them would dare."
"Oh?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
Jane understood the sentiment completely.
9 notes · View notes
themadauthorshatter · 3 years
Text
I don't know how long it's been, but fuck it, I'm making another part!
If you haven't read the previous parts you can fine them here:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4 and revision
Part 5
Quick recap, just in case: even after his attempt to keep everyone out of danger, Henry still catches up to Charles. Not all is lost, though, because he gets the okay, and two days to reach The Wall, where he must confront a woman from Terrence's past, at the former Toppat leader's instruction.
OKAY! With that out of the way, BACK TO THE STORY!!!
Charles wastes no time driving to the rendezvous point to get to The Wall, after he phoned a friend for help. His friend has a helicopter on standby(which Charles will not be driving, for obvious reasons), so all Charles needs to do is get there, which he does.
At some point during this drive, frustrated with the circumstances and just wanting things to be normal again, Charles screams and shouts to get it out, almost crashing because he wasn't watching the road.
For almost a day and a night, running on nothing but water, stress, and ADD pills, Charles drives to an abandoned airport, where his friend is waiting.
Who's this friend that he called? Well, Matteo Gurtchev, who greets him warmly when he arrives.
"Charles, there you are! I was wondering what was taking you!" Matteo says as he hugs Charles.
"Glad to see you, too, but we need to go. Right now!" Charles replies quickly as he stumble-runs to the helicopter- he's been driving for nearly two days.
Matteo nods and helps him in, telling the pilot to get going.
"So what is your plan here? Why did you call me after so long?" Matteo asks as they sit down, across from each other and Charles lying on his side.
"You know how the Toppats are in space?"
Matteo nods.
"They're looking for the sapphire and think I know where it is. I mean, I DO know, but I don't know know, you know?"
Depsite the confusion, Charles is tired, so guve him some slack, Matteo nods again.
"And you're coming to The Wall, why?"
"Hadiya Wrenley. Does that name sound familiar?"
Matteo gets up and sits next to Charles, helping him up. "Yeah, it's familiar. Hadiya's been an inmate for almost 29 years. Why?"
"I need to talk to her. As soon as we get to The Wall."
"Of course. Now get some sleep."
Charles does not turn down that offer and falls asleep just about instantly.
WITH HENRY!
Henry holds up his end of the bargain and is on the move as the third day arrives.
He checks the base, to make sure Charles didn't just stay there, before heading back out to look for him. This time, however, there's no tapping his phone or tracking him.
Henry, from his place in the cafeteria, stares out the window as he thinks about where else Charles could be.
"Wow, some plan for looking for your favorite toy."
Henry wheels around and groans at Terrence, who smirks and waves at him from against the wall.
"What's wrong? Can't say 'hi' to your old man?"
'What are you doing here?' Henry signs. 'And how did you even get on here?'
"Next time, make sure whoever's manning the beam is actually paying attention."
Henry rolls his eyes and takes a seat, gesturing Terrence to sit across from him, which he does.
'What are you up to this time?'
Terrence shrugs and offers his son a sly grin. "Just bored. Wanted some entertainment."
Henry glares at him, but Terrence only continues grinning.
"Get out," Henry growls. "Or I'll lock you in the brig."
Terrence sighs and stands before walking toward the door, but stops.
"Oh, and by the way, remember to visit your mother every now and again."
Henry gives Terrence a very confused look before Terrence tips his head and leaves.
BACK TO CHARLES!
The ride to The Wall is long and Charles sleeps the whole time, at least until they land and Matteo wakes him up.
"We're here."
Charles, sore from the drive, holds up a hand, which Matteo takes to help him up.
Charles sits and stands up with a hiss.
"Do you need anything before we go in?"
Charles shakes his head. "No. I just need to talk to Hadiya before Henry gets here."
"Don't worry about that," Matteo replies with a chuckle as they walk inside. "Unless he wants to get arrested, he won't come back here."
Charles nods and sighs as they met a couple Wall guards and take an elevator to Dmitri's office, the guards all talking to each other and about Charles in German/Russian, Matteo telling them to knock it off, if they don't want to get reported to the warden.
One of them reminds him, still in German/Russian, "He's not the warden, remember?"
When Matteo scowls, Charles looks between them and asks what they're saying.
Turns out Dmitri got into trouble after Ellie and Henry escaped. A LOT of trouble.
Speaking of Dmitri, we meet him in his office, Grigori at his side, as Matteo knocks on the door and says they have a visitor.
Charles pops a couple ADD pills into his mouth and walks in when Grigori tells them to.
Matteo pats Charles on the shoulder, wishes him luck, and holds the door open for his friend.
Both a silent Dmitri and Grigori are surprised and happy to see the Pilot, given everything that's happened.
Well, Grigori voices this, at least, and actually gives Charles one of those Dad hugs, where there's back pats and rubs, but Charles, who's a little uncomfortable, asks if he can talk with them.
He can, and Grigori lets him sit down.
Charles asks why Dmitri is so quiet, and Grigori admits that Ellie hits hard for a girl, hard enough for three dentists to break the bank.
Speaking of which, Grigori asks if Charles is at The Wall for a position that was offered to him, one that pays more than merely flying a helicopter.
He's not. He's here to meet an inmate, but has something to ask:
"What do you know about Henry? And how'd you arrest him in the first place?"
Grigori hums and leans back in his chair as Dmitri glares at Charles. "You've seen how he works alone, да?"
Charles nods and notices Dmitri writing something, which he shows.
'As you know, he's lucky. Luckier than anyone we've encountered before. We caught him during a heist at just the right moment and arrested him. Little did we know, he and another inmate worked together to escape.'
Charles nods again. "Maybe next time have two guards to keep an eye on new inmates instead of one?"
Dmitri scowls and writes another note, one in all capital letters and underlined:
'THERE WON'T BE A NEXT TIME.'
"Anyway," Charles sighs, "I need to talk to someone."
Grigori and Dmitri exchange and glance before the warden nods.
"да. Who?"
"Hadiya Wrenley."
SPEAKING OF HER, WE CUT RIGHT TO HER!
Where Terrence is barely recognizable from his time in the CCC(if you want a full description, read the Toppat!Charles series), Hadiya is recognizable, just a little aged from her time in The Wall. She has strands of silver in her dark hair and is aging with time, but doesn't look a day over maybe 35, maybe 40.
There's a knock on her door and she's informed of her visitor before Charles walks in, saying hi to her, full name and all, to try and ease the tension.
"Who are you?" She asks sharply.
"Sorry," Charles replies. "I'm Charles. I'm with the government."
"If you're here to take me home, please don't bother. I've made up my mind, and I'm not leaving."
"You don't have to. I just want to know what you know about Henry Stickmin."
Hadiya only turns her head and gives Charles a very confused look.
"His dad's Terrence Sua-"
At the sound of that name, Hadiya gasps and pits a hand on Charles's mouth.
"Don't say his name," she yelps. "That man is the Devil himself, and I'll be DAMNED, if he comes here!"
Charles only stares as she steps back and sits on her bed.
"I'm sorry, what does that mean?"
Hadiya shakes her head. "You've notived it, right? He... does stuff and other stuff happens. He sneezes, a car crashes. He opens his mouth to talk, ten people start beating each other senseless. He... He TAKES something, more things go missing or get destroyed."
Charles pulls up a chair and takes a seat. "Sounds a lot like Henry."
"I'm sorry, but who's Henry?"
"The new leader of the Toppat Clan. Terrence keeps calling him his son, but..."
Although Charles trails off, Hadiya sighs.
"Do you want to know the truth?"
Charles nods.
"He only told me to join because he was 'nothing without me.' I didn't have much to offer, but he saw something I didn't. When I tried to help on heists, he locked me in our room. If I tried having his back in meetings, he cut me off. When I tried to give him an heir, he lost his mind.
"Do you know how vicious someone has to be to threaten a child?
To be so full of themself, that they can't even see what life there is right in front of them? He took one look at him, just one, and ordered him to be thrown overboard."
Charles watches Hadiya admit to all of this as she tears up, feeling his stomach drop as he pieces together what she's saying with what he kniws, and realizes why both Henry and Terrence are so dangerous.
"Have... Have you ever heard of the Center of/for Chaos Containment?"
Hadiya shrugs and nods. "Sort of."
"They deal with anything related to chaos, which is just weird, but wherever Henry is, they show up. It happened at the bank he robbed, on one of his heists, and before he and the Toppats escaped to space."
Hadiya points and sits up. "That happened with Terrence! Everywhere he went, there were those CCC guys!"
Charles lets himself grin at that piece of good news, but his smile drops as a new question arises.
Too bad there's a loud BOOM that shakes the entire complex.
Charles locks his eyes on the ground and mutters a swear under his breath; he should've been more careful with his hiding spot.
Hadiya takes one glance outside and turns on Charles, absolutely pissed off beyond all reason.
"YOU BROUGHT THEM HERE!?"
Charles holds his hands up as Hadiya grabs at him. "It-It was just a deal. I thought I had more time-"
There's another BOOM in the complex, and Charles quickly apologizes to and thanks Hadiya before telling her to stay in her cell as he runs out.
OUTSIDE THE WALL!
Henry and Ellie sprint around the yard and take a seat near the fence as inmates run amok; those two drill pods of Toppats really sent them all scurrying and there's a chance Charles is amidst the fray.
Despite all the chaos, Ellie sighs.
"Man, this brings back memories, doesn't it?"
Henry nods and sighs as well. 'Wonder if anyone will escape this time, too?'
"Heads up," Ellie semi-barks as she looks out in the yard.
Sure, he's wearing the Wall inmate uniform, but it looks baggy as hell, especially at his pants, there's a hunch between his neck and his back, he has a hand on his right side, and he's trying to hide his face a little too much.
Wonder who that is?
Henry and Ellie smirk at each other and race agter him, Ellie commanding Right, Reginald, amd anyone close by that Charles is in the yard and is leaving The Wall, heading possibly towards the woods.
SPEAKING OF CHARLES!
He sprints towards the Wall entrance and yells to the guards he's with the government and would very much like to leave because he's injured amd unarmed; he lost his gun while the inamtes were running rampant.
They don't believe him until he shows his ID, then he gets to leave.
Even though he sees Right flying toward him and Ellie and Henry on a motorcycle.
Charles wastes no time running into the woods and weaving through the trees to avoid being seen and/or shot.
It mostly works, but it really doesn't help that he's not in the best 'running' shape at the moment, so he has to dive under a log and hide when the motorcycles and Right pass by and then stop and start walking through the woods with flashlights.
"You're sure you saw him here?" Ellie asks as Right takes the lead.
"Yeah. 'E didn't get far."
"Alright. Split up, then. Divide and conquer."
Charles watches them stalk past him, the Toppats using flashlights to try and find him.
When he's pretty sure they're gone, he crawls out from his hiding place and starts sneaking back towards the complex.
Only to spot the group turn their flashlights in his direction and make him hide behind a tree. They miss him again and Charles tries sneaking off once more, keeping an eye on where he's going and where they are.
He freezes when he feels a gun against his back.
"Going somewhere?"
Charles, unarmed and outnumbered, sighs and holds up his hands.
From behind him, Henry smirks, lowers his gun, and starts circling around Charles. "I told you I'd find you, didn't I? You really should've listened."
"So what now?" Charles asks sharply, not at all in the mood for Henry being a smug prick. "You torture me until I tell you where the sapphire is or until I die?"
"Until you die?" Henry echoes.
The two are silent, even as the group finds them.
As Charles sees them, Henry grabs his collar and turns and pushes him into a tree, sort of pinning him as he leans into his ear.
"Why would I ever want that?" Henry asks with a smirk as he toys with Charles's hair, where it's closer to the nape of his neck.
It makes Charles's stomach drop and he gets more than a little creeped out at the realization that if Henry was that hellbent in getting the sapphire, he would've bombed the base and looked for it himself.
Lost in this thought, it gives Henry the opportunity to knock Charles back into the tree by his head, which makes him see stars and start to lose consciousness as he drops to the ground.
Just before he's down for the count, Charles glares up at Henry, who lowers to one knee to see what he has to say.
"You... sick bastard."
"Maybe, but look at the one who's winning here."
Charles knocks out and Henry slings him over his shoulder; with effort, of course, Charles maybe younger and shorter, but he's fit from almost a life time of military work, so that's 100% muscle Henry's picking up.
"Let's go," Henry commands. "He's going to tell us everything."
They all agree and head out toward the 'beam point,' though Henry smirks amd widely smiles that he just got what he REALLY wanted, and will be getting the sapphire, possibly very soon.
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shikamarubae · 4 years
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War of the heart. pt2
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Pairing:  Kakashi x reader, Itachi x reader
Summary: Getting used to the idea that you have been kidnapped is not easy, much less when you are not able to decipher the intentions of your kidnappers
Warnings: Some violence 
A/N:  English isn´t my first languge, please keep that in mind, i hope you like it. The parts in italics are memories/dreams with memories.
Tags: @flowersgirl02​ , @affection-rabbit​ ,  @dumb-dork​
Part 1  Part 3 
The man in front of you seemed calm, nothing indicated that he intended to hurt you and his eyes had returned to normal. You looked at yourself, your torso was covered with bandages from chest to navel, your head was still dizzy, surely from the poison so you felt an inappropriate serenity.
-Are you going to kill me? -You asked calmly, drawing his attention to you as he seemed to have been distracted by something.
-You seem very calm to think that I'm going to kill you.
-It isn´t something that worries me-you shrugged but you quickly regretted it, pain covered your whole body
-You can´t do that yet.
-Are you going to tell me why I'm here or are you just going to stand there looking at me?
Itachi smiled and you were surprised, backing off a little at the gesture that seemed so warm and human-It seems that you still have the same bad character.
-We only did three missions together, it's not like you know me.
-I remember Hatake Kakashi  complained about your bad character.
Those words bothered you, because they made you remember that Kakashi had not come back for you and made you remember one of the reasons why Kakashi had no romantic interest in you, because he didn´t like that part of you, he didn´t like the part that got mad without control, answered wrong and did not measure the situation or the feelings of others, you bit your lip and looked at your hand, trying not to think about your feelings when the situation you were in was not normal and Itachi had evaded the question of why you were there.
-If you are planning to somehow make me help you to capture my cousin ... you have made a big mistake.
Itachi crossed his arms, he was closer to you, this time on the side of the bed and his eyes were back to their red tone. "Are you in position to say that?" His monotonous tone of voice and his serious expression again.
-Of course, I can always bite my tongue and swallow it -you said smiling cynically
-I like that-A new voice joined the room, a big and blue man, he didn't even look human, entered the room and walked to Itachi, he put his hands on the bed and leaned forward, instinctively you moved away from him as much as the bed allowed and you looked at him with a grimace and then looked at Itachi- She doesn't look like the Jinchuuriki at all. Are you sure they are family?
A serious look is all he got and the fish-like man smiled showing teeth that seemed less and less human and left the room, you followed him with your eyes  until he disappeared and then you turned your attention to Itachi- Why Does he look like a fish? - You asked quietly and again you got a smile from the Uchiha, something that seemed just as strange but warm as the previous one.
-To be honest, I don't know, he was like that when I met him.
Those were the last words you exchanged before he disappeared and you lay back on the little bed, just being sitting instead of lying down had tired you, so you quickly fell asleep again.
The mission had not been particularly dangerous but if it had been exhausting, you hardly felt your feet and Kakashi did not seem to want to stop to rest.
-Kakashi-your voice sounded like a childish complain.
-hm? -was all you got and he turned to look at you, just by seeing one of his eyes he knew he was raising an eyebrow.
-Can we stop to rest? we've been on the road for two days straight
-Okay-his eye formed a smile and his hand rested on your head-but I thought you had more stamina
In response you formed a pout and rested your forehead on his chest, his arms wrapped around you, you separated a little to look at him and then look at the sky after him -It is a very beautiful night-you observed, seeing all the stars crowding after the gray-haired man and then you directed your gaze back to him, who was watching you intently, you smiled pleased with that intimate moment and how easy it was to fill your heart with joy, you left a little kiss on his lips, on the mask and walked away to prepare the area for the night.
Kakashi lowered his mask and hugged you under the blanket you shared, leaving a kiss on your head and you huddled even more in it, closing your eyes, you felt so good every time you were with him, relaxed, calm, safe. You felt his fingers caress your face, go through your eyelids, cheeks and lips- (YN) -your name came out in a sigh- Sometimes you can be so sweet, I wish you were like that all the time.
You woke up confused until you remembered where you were, this time you were completely alone, you looked around and there was a glass of water next to you, you drank it and carefully got out of bed, finding your legs barehad you been stripped naked? you felt your blood boil, even if you had no strength someone was going to take a punch for that.
Just with your underwear and the bandage that covered your torso you walked around the room, until you found a white haori folded at one side, without really thinking about it, you put it on and left the room.
There was not even a door, an old cloth used as a curtain was what indicated the entrance and exit of that room, nor was there any type of surveillance, it was clear that they were confident you would not be able to escape. In a way it offended you, but it was normal, with your injuries you couldn´t do anything against them and you didn´t know how many people were there, if there were only Itachi and the man who looked like a fish, in some carelessness you could sneak away but if there were more people, you would have it more difficult.
You were convinced that they had taken all this into account and that was why they had left you there carefree.
You felt damp on the ground, even though you didn´t see well because everything was plunged into great darkness you could guess that it was like a  cave, you walked guided by a small thread of light, until the thread became an opening, It wasn't strong and bright light like daylight, it was dim and cold, like the night.
The opening through which the light entered was not very large, but enough for a person to pass if they bent down, enduring the pain you came out, finding you with a balcony of rock and emptiness. The exit led to a precipice, at first glance it seemed that you had no option to escape, if you were in normal conditions, you could do something crazy and escape from there but with your sore and injured body it was impossible, you had suffered to walk and get there, indescribable pain ran through your entire torso every time you took a step.
Resigned, you sat on the edge, contemplating the immense and lush forest that made its way under your feet, the wind blew hard, resounding whistles all over the place and raising the smell of wet grass that had left the passing of the rain, the wind wasn't especially cold, it was chaotic, heralding a new storm.
Those were your favorite smells and sensations, you closed your eyes taking a deep breath and enjoying that moment, you didn't know what the future held for you, so you couldn't miss moments like that.
"Woman, are you trying to escape already?" The voice startled you, you didn´t recognize it, it did not belong to Itachi or to the man who looked like a fish, you turned carefully and met an unknown man, a chill ran up and down you and for the first time since you were there you felt fear, you didn´t feel threatened in the presence of Itachi, nor in the presence of the blue guy, only confused and uncomfortable, but with that man you felt that at any moment he would kill you, without any reason.
-No- you replied, getting up carefully and facing him, being fully aware that you were cornered between the man of strange green eyes without life and the void.
-You should be chained, if not, it could happen that someone found you escaping and killed you-A hand appeared quickly on your neck, pressing hard, the grip was so strong that you did not know what would happen first, suffocating or breaking your neck. You dug your nails into his arm, ripping his flesh and skin with all your strenght, leaving several wounds that would have made any normal person pull away or at least loosen his grip, but of course that guy was not normal.
The pressure didn´t decrease, your eyes were full of tears and you saw everything blurred, you couldn´t open your mouth to scream or catch air, were you going to die like that? It was pathetic, that's what you thought until another hand appeared on the arm of the man.
-Kakuzu-You recognized Itachi's voice-release her.
The grip held for a few more seconds as the men stared at each other, among all the chaos formed in your mind and the blurred vision, you saw Itachi's eyes turn red and then, the man named Kakuzu dropped you and left.
Leaning on your knees and hands on the floor, you coughed and tried to breathe, you felt a hand on your back, it was a soft touch, almost without pressure that went from top to bottom. "Is he trying to calm me down?"
You turned to meet Itachi's serious gaze-Were you trying to escape?
You denied still unable to speak and with your hands still on the ground, you could not move, your whole body hurt.
The man got up and walked away from you, walked towards the small entrance but you did not move from the site-W..wait-you murmured with a weak voice-I can't move. 
In the blink of an eye you were on his arms being carried back to the room, his touch was nice, he was warm and comfortable, you were angry, you had never been weak, you never needed to be saved, it was the first time in your life that you were completely powerless in a situation, two wounds and a little poison had left you defenseless to the point of having to depend on your kidnapper to stay alive, in one word, you felt pathetic.
-Don't hurt yourself-he said as he carefully settled you on the bed and before you could manifest how absurd you considered him to say that, he took your hands and opened them, making you see your own palms. Not only did you have blood from scratching Kakuzu, you had dug your nails into your own palms while Itachi led you to the room, the result of rage and helplessness. You took your hands away from him and hid them under the sheet, but not everything ended there, his index finger went through your lower lip carefully, causing surprise and a tickle in your stomach, he showed you the finger and there was blood, how strong had you been biting your lips? You looked the other way, waiting for him to leave but he didn't move.
-Don't get out of here alone, Kisame and I are not the only ones who use this base and there are some members who don´t understand your usefulness so they will not hesitate to kill you.
-It's normal, I don't understand it either  -You said almost spitting in his face-tell me, why i´m here?
-Not yet, but you're not going to die for now.
-Of course, that is very reassuring, thank you very much but I have already told you, if you want to use me to harm Naruto, I will kill myself before it happens.
-That won't be necessary, rest and when the time comes i will let you know.
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11. The Lovecats a.k.a an irresistible offer, a guy in proper clothes and a dangerous ginger
In the previous chapters: Effie gives a few pictures taken by her to Krisha who promises to show them to Kelly Curtis but Effie rushes away in the middle of the conversation to avert a date crisis between Judy and Jeff . After Mike’s awkward one-night-stand and the embarrassing intermezzo between Judy and Stone in the shower (that might have been seen by someone else too), the bunch is gathering at breakfast time in a bistro near the motel. Their exchange gets interrupted by Eric who has bad news for them.
 „Guys, we have a problem.”
Ugh… if I was a road manager and the band I’m managing had a show tonight and the lead singer had lost his voice due to his uncontrolled yelling, maybe I’d call it a problem. But I’m a lead singer of a band that is supposed to play a show tonight who lost his voice due to his uncontrolled yelling so I just call it an as fucked-up dumpster fire as possible.
I can barely understand the reactions since everyone in the bunch is desperately shouting at us.
“Has Karrie disappeared?”
“Did Suns defeat Sonics? I knew it!”
“Is the Twelfth Amendment coming into effect again?”
“We’re out of weed?”
Yeah, preferences.
“Hey, everyone, calm the fuck down!” Eric tries to talk them down. “It’s about the show tonight. We… we probably have to cancel it.”
“What? Why? No way!” the cacophony goes on and it only stops when Eric shuts them up with a loud whistle using his fingers.
“Should I explain calm or fuck or down?” he asks annoyed. “The thing is… Ed has lost his voice. He’s not even able to speak.”
“But… how?” Stone stares at us with clueless face. Such a smart guy and such a stupid question.
“He obviously forgot it in a public restroom and by the time he went back, it was already gone. Jesus.” Judy rolls her eyes playing with her fork. Thanks Judy, that’s what I was thinking about, now that you’ve translated it into Sarcasm, Stone might understand too.
“Actually, he accidentally flushed it down the toilet. In case you need to know the exact details to process it, Stoney.” Beth supports her with an audacious grin.
“No problem, we send Jeff down in the canal, I’m sure he’ll find it.”
“I’m able to deal with any shit except yours, Stone.” Jeff retorts, getting a snort from Judy as a reward.
“If I was you, I wouldn’t be so proud of that…”
“Seriously, what happened?” Mike cuts the forming exchange off.
“He was complaining about having a sore throat already yesterday evening too… he was working on a few lyrics but he felt tired and fell asleep relatively early and by this morning… nothing, he can only whisper, I’m afraid…”
“NO!!!” Judy interrupts her and blushes in a second since suddenly, all eyes are fixed on her. “I mean he mustn’t whisper, that’s the worst he can do.”
He? Hey, I lost my voice, not my hearing or my mind.
“It kills vocal cords, which can even lead to neck pains, I’m speaking from experience.”
“Really?” Eric frowns in disbelief.
“He has probably laryngitis. I mean, I’m not sure, he should see an otorhinolaryngologist for an exact diagnose but it’s very likely. It’s mostly viral or bacterial but extreme overburdening doesn’t help either… and extreme overburdening is a pretty euphemistic description for what you’re doing every night, sorry Ed but someone has to finally say it.” she addresses me but my only answer is a helpless shrug. I’m sure I do something wrong but I was procrastinating to face my limits until now and… here’s the result.
“And now she’s already a doctor too. And she completed the medical program in one single night, remarkable.”
“Shut up Stone.” Eric interjects not taking his eyes off of Judy.
“And how long is the regeneration period?” Beth asks, digging her face into my shoulder, which makes me reach for her neck instinctively. She rubs her cheek against my back like a lazy cat as she’s enjoying the improvised massage.
“Well, he shouldn’t speak for a few days but singing is another case, maybe one month…” My hand stops.
“What?” Beth screams right into my ear as her head perks up. Okay, so much for my hearing.
“It depends but usually after a laryngitis, you win back your singing voice note by note, beginning from the nether region.”
“Whoa, Camden, you’re getting naughtier and naughtier…”
“Spirits sometimes help…”
“That’s what I’m telling you all the time!” Mike hits the table with his fist.
“… but it’s only symptomatic treatment, if it’s bacterial, antibiotics are the ultimate solution. And… although I definitely do not support anything that kills throat but I know that singers often get a Calcium shot if they have to perform when having voice problems. So... that would maybe help shorten the silence phase.” Judy explains unwillingly.
“So… let’s summarize what you’re suggesting: we bring Ed to an expert, convince the doctor to give him a Calcium shot and swear he won’t sing for a month… and we cancel the show tonight… and then... we’ll see?” Eric looks at Judy for reassurance.
“Kind of… but I have serious doubts if he can let any note out this week. But are you sure the show must be canceled? I mean, what if someone else sang? Stone? You like singing, don’t you?”
Judy, you have a huge luck that I’m not able to ask publicly why you know about that.
“Jesus, no, I’m not a singer.”
“Aren’t you?” she provokes him raising one eyebrow.
“Nah. Plus, I can’t sing while I’m playing the guitar, I’ve already tried it but every time I try sing, I fuck the riffs up.”
“And he cusses every time he talks. He’d be lynched by the crowd in like ten seconds.” Jeff adds. “Anyway, I’m the other one who sings the backup vocals, maybe I…”
“NO WAY!” everybody protests in unison.
“Okay, okay, it was just an idea…”
“A very bad idea. We would end up playing odes about Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, geez…”
Actually, why would it be that bad? He’s like a childhood hero to me. Plus, Stone wouldn’t be a better choice either, our crowd isn’t prepared for a rock cover of The Lumberjack Song.
“No, we have no other choice.”
“Maybe…”
“I SAID NO WHISPERING!” Judy nips my attempt to join the conversation in the bud. I reach in the chest pocket of my shirt because I think this is the right moment to use my latest invention. Beth immediately gets it and jumps in the middle.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, I’m Beth Liebling, your favorite hostess and when I say favorite, I mean it.” she emphasizes the ongoing pun about the meaning of her last name with exaggerated winks. “Many of us have certainly experienced sore throat when swallowing or coughing is extremely painful and speaking seems to be impossible. The lack of communication makes us feel isolated and if we’re surrounded with sarcastic people, unsolved conflicts may result in anger issues.”
“I’m not angry at all, everything’s fine.” Stone smirks.
“But as always, we offer you a solution to tackle these difficulties and to present this incredible product, I ask my handsome partner, Edward for some help.” she pulls me next to herself by the sleeve of my shirt. I put on my dumbest smile and wait for the cue.
“Interaction cards!” she announces with pretended enthusiasm and glances at me. I lift the deck in my hand to eye level and show it around, still with the tooth-flashing fake smile.
“They make possible to maintain basic communication with the simplest messages.”
I present the first two cards with the words “yes” and “no”.
“Give me the “no”, I’ll buy it.” Stone grabs for it. I should have known.
“They also make us capable of expressing our current feelings.”
I spread out the next cards saying “shit”, “damn”, “fuck” and “I love you”.
“Aww. Give me that one!” Mike reaches out for the latter.
“Some of them declare basic axioms…” I wave with the “Pete Townshend is god” card. “No one? No problem, we’ve still got great stuff for our customers: the combined interaction cards!”
I flip through the deck and pick the “Fuck you Bush/republicans/Nazis/racists/homophobic assholes!” card.
“That’s cute, so heartfelt!” Eric presses his hand against his chest and takes it from me with the other one. I keep searching and giggle in advance when I finally pick the “Fuck you Stone!” card.
“Mine!” Judy and Jeff both almost fall out of the booth and then exchange a grin. Although Jeff was the faster, he places the card onto his palm and kneels down in front of her.
“In token of my appreciation, milady…” he offers it to the girl. To my biggest surprise, her first embarrassment evaporates quickly and she plays along.
“I’m always going to wear it over my heart.” she puts it into the chest pocket of her dungaree dress.
“How cheesy.” Stone comments dropping a piece of Emmentaler from his cheese plate into his mouth.
I nudge Beth to show her the card I made for her when she wasn’t looking. When she reads the “I love you, Beth” text on it, she slowly steps to me, laces her arms around my neck and pulls me into a relaxing, soft kiss. I capture her in a bear hug, letting her bury her head into my chest so that I can kiss the top of it and feel the familiar smell of the shampoo she’s used since I met her…
“Booo, the hostess is fucking the stage prop, disgusting…”
“Look, she’s licking the germs out of his mouth, ew…”
I try to ignore the childish remarks of Mike and Stone, luckily, Eric steers the conversation back to more professional questions.
“I guess I have to make a few phone calls, starting with the club, the guys who bought the ticket should receive refund… and I try to get a doctor for Ed, maybe we should try it in Charlotte, I don’t think we could find a specialist here…” he starts thinking loud, getting lost in the current, messy “to do” list he’s keeping in his pocket.
“„Sssooo… since the show has been canceled, I guess we have tons of time for the guitar lesson you asked for.” Jeff changes the topic with a huge grin, without the slightest intention of hiding his joy. And with the definite intention of using every occasion to spend more time alone with her.
“Guitar lesson? From Jeff?” Stone scoffs. “You know he didn’t become a bassist by chance, don’t you?”
“I must admit Stone’s right. There’s a particular reason for it… This bony asshole can’t hold a bass. We tried it, I swear but he ended up with his face in the concrete. If you take a closer look, you can notice that his Les Paul is only a cardboard replica too. He just pretends to play it, actually, it is Scully who plays his parts behind the amps.”
Judy bursts out in a heartfelt laughter, finally, Jeff has figured out that the way to her heart leads through well-played jokes. Possibly at Stone’s expense.
“I guess we could hang out together even tonight…” Jeff recommends with a cautious squint. That’s it, strike the iron while it’s hot…
“Tonight? But what about the show???”
“What show, Stone? We’ve just decided to cancel it…”
“But the supporting act is Tribe After Tribe! You love them, you’ve wanted to see them playing live since Tom Petty gave you their record! I definitely go and watch them!” Stone pouts like a child whose parents are about to call off the family visit to Disneyland.
“Shit… I mean, that’s true, they’re amazing… maybe you could come too…?”
“Nah, I don’t think so, I could finally sleep through the whole night… but we don’t have to do the soundcheck today, we could have the first lesson instead.”
“Hey Camden, you have a lot to learn, no one said you can skip today’s work!”
“I start with turning your volume down…” Judy retorts and turns immediately back to Jeff. “So, what do you say?”
“Sure… I mean, maybe you end up teaching me. But sooner or later, I have to figure out what I’m doing so…”
They both stand up, and as they are walking towards the exit, they keep talking, leaving the sour-faced Stone behind. I can only guess the reason of the change in her behavior… Jeff Ament, you’d better not mess up your chance.
***
„Granny, stop turning your head all the time! I can also hear you when you’re looking straight ahead. Otherwise I mess up your hair!”
“Effie darling, I’m an old woman, I don’t want to be pretty, I just want shorter hair so that I can comb it easier after hair wash.” she answers, of course she can’t help moving her head this time either.
“Granny! What did I just say? Okay, I accept that you don’t care about your look but I don’t lend my name to anything. Plus, if you keep squirming, I might even cut you. Or myself. Geez, I don’t know what happened to your hair after it had turned grey, it’s like barbed wire, maybe I should try it with a machete…” I mutter as I try to straighten her strands with a comb before I start cutting.
“I’ve told you, you can do anything with it, my body is a rusty, old machine, I can’t lean forward in the bath tub or brush it for hours. You could even shave it, I don’t care.”
“Do you really want to enjoy the Seattle rain on your bald scalp? I doubt it. Did you know that dripping ice cold water on the shaved head of prisoners was a popular way of torment in the Middle Ages? And I don’t think Mr. Taylor would like it either.” I refer to her old neighbor with a sly smile.
“Come on, Effie. Peter and I are both basically fossils.” she waves with an embarrassed, short laughter. We’ve been teasing her with him for years but she always reacts with denial, she belongs to the generation of which members think attraction over a certain age is something inappropriate. Or can’t even exist. And if it still does, it’s better to pretend it doesn’t.
“Single fossils!” I point out.
“I know it’s a very fashionable word nowadays but we are both widows, my dear. That’s completely different.” she insists playing with her wedding ring that embraces her ring finger still perfectly. I could stare at her hands for hours, her elegant fingers with strong, even, oval nails, whereas the backs of her hands and her palms are soft and always warm, Mom is convinced that’s the reason why she can prepare the most delicious homemade pastries in the world. The thin, fine, spiderweb-like wrinkles on them are telling the story of a complicated life, every single day adds a newer chapter to it…
“That doesn’t mean you have to live like a recluse, I don’t know why you’re fighting even against the idea.”
“We’ve just put dear Clara in the grave and…”
“Granny, Mrs. Taylor died like… eight years ago???” I whine clipping together a few strands of her.
“To me, it feels like it had happened yesterday.”
“Because with aging, the perception of time is changing completely. It’s scientifically proven. Mr. Taylor is handsome and kind and however much you try to ignore it, he likes you.”
“Sweetie, the head of girls in your age is full of romantic imaginations but…”
“Don’t even try to project it back on me! He trims the hedge in your front yard and peeps from behind the curtain all the time, just to show up by chance whenever you step out of the house! He basically tears the shopping bags out of your hands every time you arrive home from the grocery store!” I confront her with the facts and begin to trim her hair in the meantime.
“Because he’s a gentleman! Our generation was taught how to be polite!” she explains intensely making me grab her head with both hands and turn it back in the right direction.
“Are you trying to say my generation is rude? Anyway, Mr. Taylor is a retired TV mechanic! He could repair that piece of shit old box you’re not willing to replace whenever it gets fucked up.” I play my ultimate argument knowing she has a soft spot for her favorite series. She was mourning after the last episode of Dallas for weeks.
“Effie, you know I don’t like dirty words! Please!”
“Sorry. He could repair that useless device you’re not willing to replace every time it gets fucked up.” I giggle.
“Effie!”
“Granny, just think into it: you shouldn’t make us record the missed episodes and come over if you want to watch them… you don’t like video cassettes anyway and you said you could never learn how to work a video player…” I purr into her ears trying to sound hypnotical.
“It’s rather you who should have a suitor! You’re such a pretty, young, smart girl, I can’t believe you don’t have a boyfriend.”
Oh no. She turned the tables on me. Clever.
“First of all, being single is not a shame, I won’t expire if I don’t get married before I turn 25. I’m just… not interested in anyone right now.”
And by the way, if you’re not studying, not working, and your so-called friends have forgotten about your existence for the reasons above and gave up inviting you at parties and social events, you don’t even have any possible love interest around. Not that I blame them, my high school classmates are scattered everywhere in the country and after I suspended my studies, I kind of slowly drifted away from the college buddies. We hung out a few times after it but I lost track of everything, I understood fewer and fewer inside jokes, I’m not allowed to drink alcohol, which was obviously no fun to them… damn, I can’t even get rid of my waste products without outside help. So at this point, it’s not that easy to meet guys at all. Let alone normal guys who aren’t slackers, heroin addicts and don’t have commitment issues. I mean, bad guys seem to be exciting until you have one. And I’ve had a few one, I always buy their stupid shit and I’m sick of them. Victor is my only friend who still cares and lets me know about must-see shows at RCKNDY but he’s a friend, we’ve never thought about each other with any hint of romantic feelings at that’s okay. To be honest, I don’t even want to be in a relationship only for the sake of it but I miss that little tingle in the chest and the stomach, at least a teeny-tiny, innocent crush wouldn’t hurt…
“I’m sure you have admirers, just no one meets your expectations, maybe you set the bar too high… Ouch!” she lets out a short scream since I manage to pull her hair involuntarily. The “picky girl” card again… this time, I’m not willing to begin a debate with her about that, I’ve done that several times and she just waved me off every single time.
“I think we should rather discuss Judy’s love life, it’s her who‘s surrounded by handsome boys right now.” I change the subject of the conversation, I know I’m mean and if Judy was here, she’d certainly kill me… but she’s not and the end justifies the means.
“I still can’t imagine her in the company of those men.”
Those men. Granny refuses to call the band members anything else. Okay, on sunny days, she refers to them as “those young men”… but Seattle isn’t famous for the frequency of sunny days, as we know.
“They are nice guys, she likes them. And as far as I know, they like her too…” I rather resist the urge to mention Stone’s aversion to her. “Moreover, I heard through the grapevine that one of them liked her more than the others…”
“A suitor? Sweetie, please bring my bag here, now that you’re mentioning that, I want to ask you something.”
I obey, and walk to the armchair to grab it. Like it was so easy.
“Jesus, Granny, are you keeping bricks in your handbag??? It’s a lethal weapon, if you beat someone in the head with it, you can be put in jail…” I shake my head as I put it on her lap.
“Come on, it’s not that heavy. There are a few things in it a woman can need anytime… “ she starts rummaging in the bag and as I peak into it, I can spot a Swiss Army penknife and a small bottle of tear gas spray. I rather don't ask anything. “I know you’ve shown me pictures of those men, magazine articles, posters but you know I forget everything… So I bought something up-to-date so that you can tell me what I have to know about them, especially if it concerns my granddaughter…” she pulls something colorful out of the mess.
“Steel Hammer magazine? Haha, I can’t believe it! You just went to a kiosk and asked for the latest issue of a metal magazine???” I laugh walking back behind her to pick up the threads again.
“Well… I couldn’t remember the band’s name, I just told to the salesman that my grandchild was working with one of the famous rock bands from our town and I wanted to learn more about them. He just laughed and told me this issue was full of Seattle rock bands and I could certainly find in it what I was looking for.” she flips through the pages. “So tell me again the names of those men, please.” she lifts the magazine and I giggle as I look over her head at it.
“Oh, that’s Alice in Chains, they are also popular but… I don’t think you would approve if Judy worked for them.”
“Why? They do drugs, right? I don’t even want to hear more about that.” Thank God. I don’t think I could tell her much about them without causing her a heart attack. “But they must be them!” she puts a picture in front my nose again.
“You’re getting warmer… but… still not hot. That’s Soundgarden, they are good friends with the guys, they’re even meeting them in a few weeks in Texas, I guess they’re playing a couple of shows together. But they are nice guys too, you don’t have to worry. No drugs, no sex. I mean no sex with strangers. Or other bands’ crew members.” I add before she’d make me run background checks and look into their police records.
“And these men?”
“Whoohoo, you’re hot! That’s them, Pearl Jam!”
“They have nice hair! Actually, all these musicians do. And their eyes are clear, I like that. They seem to be honest young men.” Young men. Maybe if I tell enough nice things about them, she’ll even call them “boys”, or even “guys”. ”Who is who?”
“Eddie, Jeff, Stone, Dave and Mike.” I list pointing at each name on its owner.
“And which of them is courting our Judy?” she inquires excitedly.
“I wouldn’t call it courting yet, all I know he’s already asked her out once but I’m still investigating the details, you know how secretive she can be. Anyway, it’s the bassist, Jeff. The second one from left.” I glance over her head again while I collect another strand with the comb and straighten it to see its length.
“He’s very athletic, he looks healthy, that’s good. A strong man. But those earrings and bracelets… does he always wear them?”
I can hear the frown in her voice.
“I guess so. But that doesn’t make him a bad person, body piercings are very fashionable nowadays. Anyway, he’s a Montanan guy, he’s also an artist, he paints I guess. And you see right, he’s a talented athlete, he plays basketball too and he’s an avid skateboarder. It’s not dangerous!” I add quickly since I’m not sure if skateboarding is old enough to be on Granny’s list of approved spare times activities
“His clothing style is weird, though. His chest is almost bare, he couldn’t be cold but then why was he wearing that hat?”
“Hehe, no one knows, he’s just into hats, that’s his trademark.” I shrug.
“I can’t believe Judy likes him. But that serious one with those sad eyes might be her type.”
“Who?” I wrinkle my forehead since I can’t really pair the description with any of them.
“Him. He dresses normally, that’s a nice shirt, no earrings or other weird jewelry. Does he have a tattoo?”
I glance back at the magazine only to see she’s pointing at Stone.
“Hahaha, oh my gosh, no, as far as I know he doesn’t, but if you ask me, he could even be as spotted as a panther, Judy can’t stand him.”
“But he seems to be a nice boy…”
BOY??? Stone?
“Okay, I admit, he looks good and the crew likes him and he’s super talented but he’s an asshole to Judy.”
“Effie!”
“He is! At first he ignored her and then he started acting like a douchebag and…”
“Effie, dear, you know how boys behave in school… they sometimes literally torture the girl they like… maybe he is just immature.”
“No, Granny, this is…”
Luckily, the stupid debate gets interrupted by the ringing of the phone and I jog to pick it up, maybe it’s Judy…
“Hello, Camdens…”
“Hey, Krisha’s here.”
“Oh… hi…”
“So you haven’t been abducted by aliens. You basically ran away from the office last time without any explanation and I’ve been waiting for your call since then… are you okay?”
“I am… I just… didn’t want to seem too desperate or impatient… I mean, managers are busy people, I thought it’d take some time until Kelly gets to watch my pictures…”
To be honest, I was convinced they’d ditch me with some polite lie like “Nice photos but we are looking for something else” or “We are going to call you later”… so I was just procrastinating facing the truth.
“I tied him to his chair and didn’t set him free, I have my methods… which means, I’ve got news for you.” she announces secretively.
“Effie, sweetie… my hair is still wet, would you give me a towel?”
“Just a second, Granny! Look, I’m busy now but could we meet later somewhere in the city?”
“You mean today?”
“Yes… ah, shit, I have an appointment at the hairdresser’s, but maybe after it…”
“I’m flexible, just tell me the place and the date…”
“Okay, it’s…”
***
When I pull down at the address she gave me on the phone, she’s already waiting for me in front of the building. As I lean over the passenger seat to open the door for her, my eyes are involuntarily drawn to the window decorated with kitschy hearts behind her.
“Love Is In The Hair? Seriously???” I frown. “I’d never let my hair be touched by anyone who’s able to make up such a terrible pun.”
“Oh, don’t be influenced by that, the owner is a hopeless, sentimental old woman but the girls working there are real pros!” she shakes her head as she gets in and buckles herself up. “Meg’s got golden hands, she’s the only one who can keep this haystack under control.” she points at her good smelling, fluffy, blonde strands. “I mean, several people have attempted but she’s the only one who’s succeeded without turning me into Dolly Parton.”
“Well, that’s definitely wouldn’t be a fortunate outcome.” I crack up. “But you got a nice perm, truly.”
“Oh, that’s my hair in its natural state. I had only a haircut, that’s all.”
“I can’t believe that! Aw, I’m so envious, I mean look at this mouse tail…” I flick my thin ponytail with one hand, keeping the other one on the steering wheel. “Unfortunately, my hair can’t recover from what I did to it in the ‘80s…”
“Ouch, well, those were tough times... I’m sure Meg could recommend something… you should give her a try!”
“Maybe… I don’t know, somehow I have a strong aversion to beauty salons, that chicken yard vibe freaks me out.”
“Me too! But this place is not like that at all, that’s the other reason why I became their regular client. Meg studied psychology, she always feels without asking if I want to talk or just listen to her or I just want both of us to… you know, just shut up. She usually has good advice for every situation but not in a pushy way… she rather makes you realize what’s the right thing to do… or just points out if you’re about to make a terrible mistake without explicitly saying it.” she chuckles. “I don’t know, it’s like a sixth sense thing, she’s gifted.”
“So she’s a beauty wizard and a guru in one person.” I summarize.
“Haha, exactly. She’s simply a cool chick but for some reason, she has such a bad luck with guys, I don’t know the exact details, only that a problematic guitarist broke her heart.”
“Ha, that invasive species has kinda conquered this town…” I mutter knowingly.
“Speaking of that, do you know anything about Judy and Jeff? I ran away last time since I felt a disaster coming… she wasn’t even aware she’d been asked out… and since then, we’ve barely talked and she ignored the question when I came up with that…”
“Ugh, to be honest, I don’t know, I talked to Eric about work stuff, we’re busily preparing that free open-air show in May…” I stop since I’m not sure if I should go on. “Of course I talked to Stone as well…” I finally decide to do so but I pretend to be distracted by the traffic in the junction to have an excuse for not finishing the sentence.
“I bet he trashed my sister again, didn’t he?” she unfortunately jumps on the topic without hesitation.
“No… not really… I mean, he’s disapproving about anything romantic between them for sure but not because of Judy as a person… he just doesn’t think it’s a healthy thing right now. But he was obscure, I didn’t even understand what he was trying to say, he was babbling something about deflowering and cabal… he’s showing off his vocabulary all the time, even if it makes no sense. Especially when he’s high, maybe that was the case.”
“Deflowering? You mean my sister?” she scoffs and I can’t do anything but shrug since Stoney was truly vague, almost secretive. “The dude’s got obviously a screw loose.” she underlines the statement by circling with her index finger at the temple. “Anyway, why are you turning in that direction, aren’t we going to the management office?”
“I never claimed we’re going there.” I watch the road with a mysterious smile. “Actually, I realized after having called you that I had an errand to run so I thought you could accompany me…”
“By accompanying you mean kidnapping me and holding me hostage in your car?”
“Maybe. Open the glove compartment, I put there something for you.”
“Now you’re scaring me, is it a gun? Whoa.” she startles since after she obeys me, tons of tapes fall onto her lap.
“Ah, I get it. You’re holding me hostage and make me listen to shitty music, what are these? Tapes of Wham! tribute bands or what?” she asks checking the cases.
“Okay, you just gave me a great idea. The tapes weren’t intended for you, they are demos of bands monkeying PJ, we receive a buttload of them every week. Needless to say they all suck, could you do me a favor by listening to them for me? Kelly insists on me checking all of them, I don’t know why, though, we usually send them a polite refusal… but he thinks they deserve a chance. 99 % percent of them are indistinct yelling to worn-out riffs. What about my constitutional rights?”
“Haha, are you serious? I mean, I don’t really have any proper excuse, I have plenty of time and unfortunately, fucked-up kidneys don’t clog ears but…”
“Just kidding, I meant the folded sheets, maybe they are buried deep, just dig for them.”
“Okay, got it” she groans basically putting her head in the glovebox. “What’s that? Mr. Hugh Mility… Mr. Juan Badapple… Jim Rockford... Dr. Hugh Jeego… Guy Jantic… what the hell is this?”
“Well, since the guys are getting huge, fans are lurking at the hotels, they make up impossible lies to get their room numbers, a few of them even tried to bribe the receptionists… so it became obvious they should use codenames…”
“And who is who?”
“You missed the point, should I maybe explain the concept of codenames? What if you start stalking or harassing them?” I tease her and maybe I’m hallucinating but I’d swear I see an amused smile forming in the corner of her mouth. “Anyway, joke aside, they are pretty obvious, just think a little.”
“Wait, the list goes on… these must be the crew members… Elle Koholic, okay, this must be Carrie. Oh my god, I found my sister’s one.” she slaps herself in the forehead.
“Yeah, no offense but she’s got a one-track mind… anyway, we’ve arrived.” I announce steering the car right to the empty site next to the building.
“Are you willing to finally reveal where we are?” she asks stuffing the tapes back into their place.
“Curiosity killed the cat. Okay, I hope not, Stone would kill me.” I laugh at my own joke, fishing out the shopping bag from the backseat. “Come.”
“I don’t understand a word.” she pouts indignantly while we’re entering the building and climbing the stairs in the semi-darkness.
“I enlighten you very soon, I promise, just follow me.” I turn back to her and we fell silent until we reach our destination. “Here.” I point theatrically at the door.
“What’s this? Are you gonna buy drugs here? Or is this sort of a den of gamblers? Or…”
“Jesus, I thought you’re the adventurous one…” I roll my eyes. “Anyway, you mentioned the species of problematic guitarists… where we’re standing is the cave of a specimen from one of the subspecies.”
“…which iiiis…”
“One of the most complex inhabitant of Earth’s fauna: the rhythm guitarist!” I raise my index finger. “It’s very widespread at bars and concert venues, the male ones are inseparable from their favorite delicacy that is beer. The male living here is famous for his trademark, sarcastic remarks that are not without jokes about nether regions. During his mating season – that includes every single day of the year –, he tries to catch the attention of female specimens with the excessive flipping of his magnificent mane and his repetitive, distinctive laughter. He often leaves the location of mating right after the act, his volatile nature…”
“Wait, are you trying to say…” she cuts me off, getting tired of my improvised presentation.
“Yess.”
“No shit!”
“Yes shit. We’re at Stone’s apartment. Okay, it actually belongs to his sister but she moved in with her boyfriend last year. And Stoney got a gentle reminder from his parents that he should finally leave the family nest.”
“Hey, then maybe me and Judy are super uncool since we live with our mom too…” she frowns offended.
“It’s all about the context, first of all: he turned down Chris Cornell when he asked him to be his roommate. I repeat, Chris Cornell.” I explain, as I begin to fumble with the keys.
“What a fool!”
“I mean, I kind of understand him to a point, his parents are the dearest people I know but turning down such an offer when you’re over 20? Time went by and I think his parents just got fed of him tearing the strings at their attic all the time and coming home in the middle of the night every single day. Even if they have always been totally supportive of him, they didn’t freak out even when he announced he didn’t want to go to college… he started working as an espresso guy in a small bakery at Pioneer Square, he was the worst, by the way, I mean I almost puked of the coffee he made… He quitted that job when Mother Love Bone got signed to PolyGram and… you know what happened later. So he kind of stuck at home, indebted.”
We enter the apartment in the meantime and I take a few steps in the living room to turn on the standard lamp.
“But then, not much before the tour started, his sister let him her place over, he’s a low-key guy so…” I shrug. “Now that they became basically rock stars, he’s planning to buy a small house… his dad is an attorney-at-law with acquaintances at real estate firms, that helps a lot.”
“We had to sold our house when… a few years ago.” she sighs. I don’t ask, I guess it has to do something with her father, Karrie mentioned he’d died a few years ago. “This is a pretty nice place, I thought it was messier. No piles of beer cans, no smell of rotten food…” she remarks walking around the living room.
“Despite your impressions, he’s not a caveman, he always jokes referring to himself as an emancipated guy meaning he can and is willing to do all kind of housework. He can be pretty oblivious, though, which sometimes affects the result…” I giggle and open the windows to let in some fresh air. “His brain works in a weird way, he loses everything, all the time and forgets where he put his personal belongings and therefore never finds them again… whereas he’s pretty good at remembering riffs and melodies.”
“So this place is like a black hole. Anyway, why are we here? Wait, are we going to pull pranks on him? Let’s stick pins in the armchairs, smear tooth paste on the door handles and hide dog poop under the doormat…” she suggests with stars in her eyes. Okay, I have to do something against this hatred campaign before these wicked women cast a lethal spell on him.
“As I mentioned, I have a mission. First of all, I have to keep those poor things alive…” I point in the corner.
“Wow, a private jungle!” she exclaims surprised. “Philodendron, ficus and mother-in-law’s tongue! If someone had told me Stone liked indoor plants, I wouldn’t have believed it.”
“Actually, he sometimes forgets about their existence too. But they are real survivors, they even made it despite his girlfriend’s interesting watering methods… by the way, he even gave them names: Phil Collins, Biggus Diccus and Robert Plant, I guess I don’t have to explain…” I go on with the guided tour while I go in the kitchen to fill the coffee jug with water.
“At least the guy has a good taste in music.” she shouts. She must have found his record collection and the stereo system, I guess if something, this can soften Effie up.
“Yes, he’s surprisingly omnivorous as for musical genres…” I call back although my voice sounds muffled, since I had to basically crawl into the cupboard at the bottom for the bag of the pet food. “He’s pretty much influenced by everything he hears on the radio. Ouch!!!” I manage to bang my head when I straighten up too early.
“Are you okay?”
“I am… just a household accident…”
I walk back to the bedroom with the small bowl full of dry food only to find her staring amazed at the large star chart on the wall.
“Wow. My sister would love this.” she keeps examining it with dropped jaw, only her lips are moving.
“Well, I’ve always known they have much more in common than they think.” I grin.
“Judy had a pretty long phase when she wanted to be an astronomer… I mean, basically her in her whole childhood. She later found out physics and science weren’t really her thing but she’s still obsessed with space exploration and science fictions…”
“As you can see, Stone isn’t that beer-drinking, douchebag barfly type…” I spread my arms to point out that the walls are almost covered with bookshelves.
“Yeah, as far as I can see, he’s pretty much an intellectual asshole.” she narrows her eyes.
“AND NOW… let’s jump to the second part of my mission.” I kneel down and lift the bedspread. “Your Majesty, your subjects are only waiting for you to begin the audience.” After a few seconds of silence, two reddish paws reach out from under the bed, soon followed by a pink nose. Their owner makes sure there’s nothing dangerous in the room in full alert mode, before she crawls out slowly and rubs her snout against my hand reached out.
“Oh my god! A cat! Was she here during the whole time?” Effie screams surprised, sits down cross legged and invites her to herself making smacking sounds. “Hey sweetie… you’re very shy, aren’t you? Come here…come…”
“Effie, let me introduce you Red. Red, this is Effie. Be cautious… she can behave quite wild, especially with women…”
Despite my fears, she slowly moves towards Effie and sniffs her fingertips. After a few seconds of tense hesitation, she lets herself be caressed with that typical vigilance of cats like she was sending the message “I’m here but if you make a wrong move, you die”.
“What a beautiful fur… and those green eyes…” the girl runs her finger along the red-white spotted back. “She seems to like me…” the girl chuckles.
“One more proof that Stone’s theory was right.”
“What kind of theory?”
“Well… he adopted her not much after the forming of the band… she was just a tiny, fluffy kitten but from the very first moment, she’s acted very weird with the girls around Stone. And I don’t mean girls in general, I’m talking about his female visitors, if you know what I mean… she’s been very hostile to girls he’s dated, she’s basically driven away all the chicks he’s got hooked up with… She’s literally jealous of his love interests.”
“Interesting, I’d rather think Stone is a dog person…”
“He is, his family has always had dogs… but with Red… it was love at first sight. I’ve never seen him being as affectionate to actual girls as to Red. Even his voice softens when he’s talking to or about her… so long story short, Stone was joking that they must have been lovers in a previous life and she had been some red-haired girl who’d stolen his heart.”
“And does she like girls who hate him because they mean no competition for her?” Effie wonders as she follows the cat with her eyes who’s now approaching her bowl and gets lost in the deliciously looking pieces of meat. “It’d be an interesting experiment to introduce her to Judy.”
“Definitely, she’s never met a real female enemy of him. Maybe because girls usually like him…” I shrug.
“And is this poor thing the whole day alone?”
“Ugh, it’s a complicated story. When the guys started touring, the Gossards adopted her. Again. But they have to get rid of her, because they all are allergic to cat fur, it wasn’t that disturbing when Stone was at home too and she basically lived in the attic with him and he was the only one really taking care of her… but when he was away and they had do it for him, they quickly had to look for someone else… and then, she got to Regan, our common old friend. They got on very well with each other but then Regan and his girlfriend adopted a dog and to say they weren’t compatible is an understatement. And then…” I took a big breath “…then came the Amber phase. I don’t know if I’ve already mentioned her, she’s his girlfriend.”
“Ouch.” she hisses. “That must have been tough.”
“It was. Due to the beforementioned circumstances, their relationship was everything but smooth… she never adopted her, she just came over to feed her and all but Red was trying very hard to make her life a living hell. She attacked her, scratched her arms, hooked her nails in her tights and ruined her nicest clothes…” I list and I can’t help smiling as I recall their clashes.
“I can’t believe this cutie pie did things like that. It sounds terrible but… hey, are you laughing???”
“It was a dis… a disaster…” I’m already choking of laughter since in the meantime, Red’s innocent face makes me remember the funniest part of the story. “Once she even… oh no, I can’t…” I try to calm down and put on straight face. “Once this little bitch…” Red turns her head towards me like she felt addressed “yes, I’m talking about you… so this little bastard peed in Amber’s heels.”
“Oh no! Cat pee is the worst, it’s a one-way ticket to the dumpster. I mean only if you don’t set everything that got in contact with it on fire.”
“Well, that happened to the heels in question too. But frankly, I don’t blame Red, I myself have played with the idea of doing the same a few times too.” I shrug and have Effie in stitches.
“So you hate her too…”
“I don’t, she’s not a bad person… but she can be so annoying, man… when you have to admire the umpteenth fashion photo of her posing in different clothes, it’s very difficult to seem to be interested.”
“Uhm… speaking of photos… you said you got news for me… I didn’t want to be too greedy, I mean I really like hanging out with you and I’m not doing it only because I want your help and…” she jabbers blushing.
“Hey, easy. The news are that Kelly loved your photos. And Susan Silver too. And they have a great idea…”
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chimswae · 3 years
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BTS Caretaker CH28
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Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?
- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC)
- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au
- Word Count: 5,170
- Author Note: A little revelation of their relationship and Seul past. And idk why i wrote this way, but yeah it is what it is lol :< 
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Chapter 28
Taehyung’s outburst earlier this week lasted for few days until Namjoon had enough of it. That night before the Home Festa, he gathered everyone in the practice room to have a real talk. Yoongi and Taehyung had practically ignored each other existence since the incident. None of them showed any interest to make up after the small fight that they had.
Unlike, Jimin and Jungkook, they didn’t prolong the fight with Taehyung since they respected his view and worries. Even though his behaviour towards Seul was unacceptable. Taehyung was looking out for the members. They understood him though they were weirded out by his sudden change. Apart from Jin and Hoseok, Taehyung is the friendliest one among them and to witness him spouting mean things to Seul was a little out of character.
Namjoon pulled himself upright and faced everyone with a deep sigh. Everyone was in dazed, too preoccupied with their own thought. Everything must be resolved tonight or else Armys might notice the tension in the air.
Hesitated, the leader cleared his throat and broke the eerie silence between them “Can we talk about what happen that night? We have been keeping it low until.. I had enough. Both of you, care to explain what happen back then? Tae, why are you venting your anger on Seul? We could talk it out instead of yelling at the poor girl..” every nerve in his tense body screamed for relief, he finally said it out.
They heard Yoongi scoffed maintaining his hard gaze on the floor. He never agreed on how Taehyung vented his anger without solid reason on Seul as if her feelings didn’t matter in this. If he were to find someone to blame, Yoongi is ready to hear anything came from Taehyung. Her tears pained him.
Others remained silent, some were shifting uncomfortable in their seats wanting to escape from this room. The youngest one looked miserable realizing this useless fight started because of him and Jimin. They were partially at fault too. Another thing was that, he couldn’t reach Seul for few days now. She ignored every text and call that he made.  
Apart from the silent treatment, Seul tended her job as if nothing happens however she avoided meeting any of them. It simply means, she had rescheduled her work back to her normal work hours. There was no more breakfast for them early in the morning. Seul had stopped coming after her night shift. They didn’t blame her for that, anyone would be acting that way after all. She felt responsible and guilty over everything even though she did nothing but to look after the boys only to get yelled without consulting her. This was another level of absurdity.
Annoyed, Jin snapped “Kim Taehyung, answer him. What the hell is wrong with you?” the younger guy took a deep breath looking like a lost lamb.
“I don’t like the idea of our members falling for the same girl. It is too disturbing even though they agreed to play it fair, with Yoongi hyung in the picture. Don’t you think this is getting serious than before?” his face contorted in confusion and anger.
Jungkook and Jimin exchanged a serious look before keeping their gaze fixated on Yoongi “Yoongi hyung likes Seul?” Jimin murmured in tones of disbelief. They were trying to reconfirm the older guy’s unspeakable affection towards Seul back then. It finally cleared all the doubts in them.
Yoongi likes Seul.
“I am not surprised” said Hoseok, sighing softly.
Jungkook looked at Yoongi again with a disbelief look “Is it true?”  he questioned slowly. Yoongi drew a sharp breath, gathering his guts to meet the maknae’s eager eyes “I am sorry Guk. I thought it can be stopped. Fuck… it is complicated” he combed his hand through his hair expelling his worries.
“O…kay…” he slouched in his seat, relieved and disappointed. Disappointed that he didn’t realize it sooner, until Taehyung needed to outline it out for him. If he could talk this thing with Yoongi, they could come up with something without endangering the whole group.
Or.. he could stop himself from liking Seul.
His feelings only complicate things.
“I thought you like Seul too Tae?” Namjoon inquired drawing everyone’s attention to the star of the night. Taehyung’s looked pale digesting the leader bias question who seemed to be attacking him. He went on, “I remember you talked about a lady from the photo that you captured. You printed it out and framed the photo. Don’t you like her too?” Yoongi snapped his head sending wary glance at his way.
Taehyung stammered “I…I don’t-That was a small crush that I have for her until I learned about Jungkook and Jimin feelings for Seul. Things will get complicated if I make a move on her” he expelled a long sigh.
“You are denying your feelings for her, so you come up with those nonsense that you said to her that night, just to ease yourself?” Yoongi snarled lowly keeping his gaze on the flustered guy.
His eyes twitched in frustration “ I am stating the fact. For now, it is all rainbows and sunshine, you are in love. What if one day she has to make a choice? What are you going to do about that huh? Are you really okay with her choosing one of you over another? Her action will divide us and set us against each other. What happen to the promises that we made back then? We never let ridiculous things like this affect our work and friendship… Yoongi..hyung..we have never gotten into any serious fight since we first debuted. I thought our relationship is making a progress” tears were in his eyes, but he tried to look brave.
To be reminded by all the memories that they shared together, there was no doubt Taehyung made a point there. Yoongi and Taehyung were not the bestest friend in the group, nowadays they had resolved those issues and became closer than ever. Fans showed their love towards the couple and they even came up with a couple name for them, Taegi.
The silly Taegi.
The loveable Taegi.
The blooming love between Taegi.
Taegi was the beginning of a new relationship. It was magical.
Yoongi’s fist curled up into a ball, he felt his body tense digesting every word came from Taehyung without leaving any behind. It came to his realization; Taehyung ultimate fear was to see everyone turning their back against each other.
Namjoon leaned his back against the mirror, watching the two adults mending their almost broken friendship. Everyone seemed intrigued to see the things unfold in front of them. This was the perfect time to vent out everything.
Yoongi forced the words out from his mouth “I am sorry Tae.. I am not aware of your worries, but I choose to be ignorant instead. That’s very inconsiderate of me to do that. About my feelings for Seul, I- that was a mistake. I know Jimin and Jungkook have made it clear about their feelings.. I am sorry for that…for liking her” he glanced at both of them with an apologetic look.
“It is just…Her tears pained me. When you made Seul cries, I couldn’t stop myself from thrashing you. I should not have let my feelings cloud my judgement. I am so fucked up” he continued, followed by a low grunt.
They fell into silence. The rest of the members looked at one another, amazed. This thing with Yoongi had never been this serious. Occasionally, Yoongi would tell them what he felt but just enough to leave them in vain. Yoongi is not the type of person whom expressed his feelings openly especially with the members.
This was by far the deepest things that he ever shared with them.
It rendered them breathless.
“We can’t make you hate her hyung. It is your feelings” Taehyung paused few seconds before he took the courage to say it aloud “I am concerned of our future. We have come this far, and this relationship issue bound to happen anyways. I didn’t expect it would end up this way, with half of the members in the group liking the same girl. The thought of losing all of you over this.. it petrified me” Taehyung blinked his tears away, rubbing his sore eyes in hope to hide it from others.
Jimin slid his arm around his best friend shoulder “Tae..I am sorry to make you worry of such thing. I know you are worried of us.. I am sorry for falling in love carelessly. That is not my intention to hurt the group, Seul and you in process” Jungkook fiddled with his fingers, looking a little shaky.
Smiling weakly, he squished Jimin’s hand meeting his deep gaze “It is not your fault, I am overreacting. I keep it to myself…instead of letting it out” Jungkook on the other hand feeling overwhelmed by the whole thing. He did not know how to react to everything that his hyungs had said and up until now, he sucked in showing his emotion.
“Jung are you alright?” Jin touched his back, scrutinizing his solemn expression.
As soon as all eyes on him, he burst into tears panicking everyone in the room. The sobs were stifled at first as he attempted to hide his grief, then overcome by the wave of his emotions and he ended up crying for real. “Kookie… Jungkook why are you crying?” Jimin went to his side, pulling the younger boy into a tight embrace.
Taehyung and Yoongi’s faces loses colour knowing this talk happened tonight was due to their absurd feud. If it weren’t for the incident that night, they would not have this talk and the maknae wouldn’t be crying. Jungkook clutched onto Jimin’s back, burying face in his shoulder “Okay calm down, take your time...” Jin eyes shot open, looking alarmed in his seat.
It took Jungkook a while to stop crying completely, and each of the members were already on their feet pacing back and forth in the cold room. Did Jungkook finally have enough of this drama and pressure around him? Jungkook wouldn’t shed his tears easily unless it was their concert.  When Jimin first caught Jungkook cried his heart out in their dorm a year ago, the older guy thought he was fooling around. He made fun of him until he realized Jungkook was crying for real. To his utter astonishment, the tears were genuine, and he found out Jungkook was missing his family.
Aged 14, Jungkook left his home to chase his dreams. This young man had to live in a hard way, ditching his teenage life to be part of Bangtan Sonyeondan. The members had raised him together. From an introvert and shy boy, Jungkook grew as a fine man with good manners.
He was indeed a golden maknae to them.
The members cherished the youngest member with all their heart.
“Hyungs, this is all because of me. I thought if I make friend with someone which is not in our circle will make me feel more human. I never thought of our career as a joke, in fact I love to be here, I love everyone, I love us… But for some reason I feel empty. Despite everything that I have all these years, it is never enough for me. I am craving for something, something that makes me feel real. Not BTS Jungkook but the real Jeon Jungkook. Until I meet Seul. It is all started with a mere admiration. I’m curious of her life. She looks happy and free. At first, Seul is my muse. I admired her from afar. I got greedy and decided to make a move on her, we became friends. I let myself fell into her deeper, I let her into my heart” he confessed.
Namjoon shoved his phone in his pocket taking the maknae’s words seriously. Jungkook continued not long after “I understand if you feel I am such a disappointment to the group. I.. got distracted by the unpromising future that I may have with Seul. I shouldn’t have done that, I am sorry…hyung.. ” he whispered, hanging his head low.
“Shut that mouth of yours. You called yourself a disappointment again, I will chop your tongue” Yoongi crossed his arms, glaring furiously. He hated it when one of the members downgrading themselves. They were not supposed to feel that way. It was wrong.
Jin gritted his teeth together mouthing Yoongi to be nice but only to be ignored by the grumpy guy. Why is he like this? Jin screamed mentally, annoyed by Yoongi demeanour.
“You are not a disappointment to your group Jungkook” a familiar voice rose from the other side of the room garnered the boys’ attention. They blinked in confusion as they realized the owner of the voice stood frozen at the entrance with a deep frown evident on her forehead.
“Seul..?” Jungkook flinched at the sight in front of him.
Namjoon walked up to Seul, taking her hand in his, leading the way to the centre of the room “I told her to come. We can’t solve this without her. Taehyung owed her an apology after all. For calling her a bitch” he stressed the last word sternly, causing the younger guy shifted uncomfortably.
“I know all of you have been playing this blame games and probably tired, to hear this thing again. If you want to find someone to blame, then it is me. I am nobody in your life. Your friendship is precious, don’t let me taint it. I come into your life and cause misunderstanding. If I didn’t lead any of you on, this wouldn’t happen. I am sorry” Seul scanned their faces one by one and as her gaze landed on Taehyung, he tore his eyes from meeting hers.
Taehyung felt utterly disappointed of himself, for hurting Seul without thinking straight.
Seul exhaled deeply as she took the cue to continue “I enjoyed your company, each one of you. I have never been so happy in life until I met you guys. Thank you for that. Your music gives me strength. I.. don’t want to ruin your friendship. I don’t want to be in the middle of this mess. Let’s get back to square one. Pretend like we never know each other. Pretend that your caretaker is my mother. It will give you time to forget me. I believe you will get over the fact that I used to be your caretaker” her lower lips quivered, holding back the tears in her eyes.
Jimin shook his head “Seul-ah..I don’t-“ Seul spoke before he could finish. “Don’t worry, I will still work as your caretaker until my mom gets better. I will not neglect my duties. I will still cook for you” her voice broke in the end letting her emotion took over her mind.
“Just…we should..stop meeting each other like this” she closed her eyes as her tears rolled down hitting the ground.
Yoongi let out a disapproval groan “Are you suggesting us to forget you? To act as if you have never existed? Aren’t you being selfish? What about me? What about Jungkook and Jimin? So our feelings don’t matter here? What about others who see you as a friend and a sister?” brimming with tears, Yoongi looked hurt.
“Yoongi, If we stay this way..I cant make a choice. I can’t choose. I can’t hurt any of you” she said desperately. Her broken dams once again pained Yoongi. He hated to see those tears on her face.
Jungkook uttered stubbornly “We didn’t ask you to choose. Stay with us just like this. Don’t leave us” he looked away, feeling defeated.
“Jungkook.. Taehyung was right. We can’t stay like this forever. When the time comes, what will happen to all of us? I don’t want to risk this. Since everything is still new, let’s put it a stop. We just have to restart everything and pretend it never happen” Seul rubbed her arms expelling a heavy sigh in process.
This time around Jimin arose from his seat, lurching towards Seul causing the latter to take a cautious step backwards “Put it a stop? Are you toying with our feelings? Do you think this is a joke? Does it look like we are fooling around when we confess to you? Are you really just a bitch just like Taehyung claimed you to be?” Seul felt a pang in her heart. Her heart hardened swiftly.
“PARK JIMIN” he heard his hyungs protest behind him showing their disapproval with the choice of his words. The latter did not care of his surrounding, he wanted to set this thing straight. First, he had to make sure this girl knew she’s taking such a stupid decision.
Seul everted her gaze and stared blankly on the cold ground. She collected her thought refusing the memory of her father attacking her sane again. Why was thing happening to her every time she’s with them?
“Ji Seul, answer me. Are you really just bitching around?” Jimin grabbed her arms to gain her attention yet she stood still without uttering anything. She sucked in a breath and dipper her head, almost afraid he could read her uncertainty.
Seul tried to put a little space between them, but his arms were like band of ions. Jimin’s questions stirred up bitter memories in her. She tried hard to resist the memory from coming out, yet she failed.
 7 years ago
15 years old Ji Seul skidded home happily after getting her result. She was over the moon to show her excellent report card to her mother. Despite a rough year she had to face at home, she was able to make it out alive. She wouldn’t let it affect her studies.
Few months ago, she discovered the truth about her mother secret pregnancy. It turned out that her mother had been lying about her pregnancy from everyone. Mrs Hwang slept with his husband’s best friend and because of the mistakes that she committed, Seul happened. Mrs Hwang was afraid to reveal the truth since she’s already engaged to his husband that time, she didn’t want to ruin the future that they planned to build together. If she were to reveal the truth, Seul had to grow up without a father.
Her world falls apart. She had no one to tell leaving her with no choice but to lie for the baby inside her growing belly.
Hence, she told no one about it not even the man who’s responsible for her pregnancy.
The lies went on for years until that day his husband found out about the secret pregnancy from Seul’s birth certificate. For an odd reason, his name was not indicated clearly on the birth certificate making him question about Seul’s real father. Mrs Hwang might be lying to her husband about the baby, however she wouldn’t change the fact that Seul is someone else daughter.
One day, she meant to unravel the truth.
She didn’t have any intention to keep it from Seul forever. She was rather unlucky that her husband had to discover the truth this way. Ji’s household was a real mess after the revelation of a child born out of wedlock. Her father stopped coming home for a while. He quit his jobs and ruined their life. Mr Ji started to gamble, trashing his life for alcohol. He changed from a loving father to a hot-tempered man. He would only come back home when he has no money to gamble.
Mrs Hwang endured the pain from the beating and sometimes, the older man would vent it out on innocent Seul. She came to aid her mother every time her father flew into rage. It ended up pretty badly, as long as she’s able to protect her mother from his wrath, she was fine with it.
Twisting the doorknob with a gleeful smile, her step died upon seeing two grown up men sitting casually in the living room. The smells from the expensive cigars burnt her lungs. She didn’t like it at all.
One of the men was her evil father and she studied the stranger face beside him, he looked like he’s in early 40’s and he was dressed nicely in his black tux. The man looked filthy rich and dangerous. Seul bowed politely as a courtesy, when she about to leave, her father tugged her wrist putting her steps at halt.
“Where are you going?” he said dryly.
Seul sighed “My room? I want to find mother” his grip on her wrist tightened, fearing Seul.
“I want you to meet my friend. This is Mr Kwon. And, this is the girl that I have been talking about, Seul. She is 15 and fresh. Don’t worry, I am letting you to take her as your bitch as long as you pay me handsomely. I don’t need this bitch in my life anyway” his disgusting low voice making Seul sick in the stomach. She shuddered in fear as she struggled to escape from his strong grasp.
The man put down his cigar stub on the empty plate, scanning Seul’s body from head to toes. A sly smirk played across his face as he reached out to caress her cheeks “Pretty. The thought of owning this girl excites me. How much?” his eyes never left Seul as he continued to undress her with his eyes.
She cried helplessly begging to be released but her father showed no sympathy on her. He loathed her to the core. If by getting rid of Seul would satisfy him, that’s what he about to do.
“How much you are willing to pay for this bitch?” Seul winced in pain when she attempted to pull her hand from him. Closing her eyes tight, she prayed that everything was only a bad dream.
Bitch, I am just a bitch to him. She broke down.
“Enough for me to own her to myself”
“Don’t worry once I get the money. She is yours”
 Her breath hitched at the memory, Seul clasped onto something for support and that something happened to be Jimin’s arms. Jimin looked at her worriedly “Seul-ah…Are you alright?” her body shook vigorously, holding onto her breath. She felt a painful knot in his stomach and throat.
She knew exactly what’s coming to her. Panic attack.
“Seul-ya!” Jin called out, running to their side watching her body limping weakly against Jimin.
The image of breathless Seul brought on a surge of guilt in Jimin. “Seul.. Seul.. what happen?” body shaking with strain, his eye slocked on her face. “Goddamit, do something!” everyone spooked out did not know what to do until Hoseok stepped in with a deep frown.
Jimin held onto Seul’s body closed to him as the girl was practically clinging onto his shirt tightly, breathing heavily “Panic attack. It is panic attack. I had this once after BBMAS” his voice rose one octave convincing the member to trust his judgement.
“Okay, panic attack” Namjoon knelt beside Jimin, studying her expression. “What should we do Hoseok?” his eyes widened to hear her rapid breathing. Her eyes watered, blinking rapidly with hope to restore herself from this. She couldn’t do it. Not that she loses hope of herself, but the pain engulfed her heart making things harder for her to think all the good things and stay calm.
He blurted out “She said, if we hold our breath, it could stop your panic attack” Yoongi grew frustrated over Hoseok’s vague direction. “How the fuck we do that? She looked like she’s about to pass out” he glowered.
Jungkook bit his nails anxiously, scared if anything happened to the girl in Jimin’s embrace. He wouldn’t forgive himself if she got hurt. Everyone in this room would be held responsible.
“Well… she kinda kiss me to stop my panic attack” he hesitated to tell them about the moment he had with Seul. “What!” the members said in unison looking dumfounded. He hid himself behind Jin’s broad shoulder and cleared his throat to ease the awkwardness “Since I couldn’t do it by my own, she… took the matter in his own hand. This is no time fight, someone kiss her!” he exclaimed.
Once again panic took over the room, they had no idea what to do. Seul closed her eyes once again, clutching onto Jimin’s arm. She forced out the happy memory that she had with her friends and mother, yet it only to add more pain to her already bleeding heart.
“Someone do something!” Namjoon tapped his feet nervously.
Jungkook, Jimin and Yoongi exchanged a meaningful glance as if pushing each other to make the move but they didn’t realize the clock was ticking. Displeased with the trios’ hesitation, Jin grunted lowly and collected Seul in his large hands.
It garnered the trios’ attention towards the eldest member, the look that they had on their face was a mixture of disapproval and fear. Seul felt the warmth around her, but she was too tired to open her eyes.
“Seul..focus.. Steady your breathing” Jin whispered softly, the girl recoiled under his touch as he leaned in. His nose bumped into hers, then a second later their lips met. She felt a slight tremor from course through her as he felt Jin sucking her soul away rendering her breathless. It really worked on her as she was caught of guard by the kiss.
Every part of her body felt both alert and relaxed. Jin’s soft yet plump lips against her felt so wrong yet so right. His kiss mesmerized her, stopping time and clouding logic. The remaining members stood there watching Jin did his thing with a mixed feeling. Part of them wanted to smack Jin and pulled him off her, yet they had no idea if the kiss actually worked. They couldn’t risk this.
How long is he going to lock her lip with his. Yoongi rubbed his back head in frustration. He could have done it instead of making the older guy doing the job. Goodness, if and only Jungkook and Jimin weren’t so adamant about respecting each other feelings.
Jin pulled away, leaving her breathless “It works” he stroked his thumb over her moist lips.
Seul blushed madly upon realizing the whole situation. Jimin smacked Jin’s hand away making the older guy to release Seul’s face. “Seul-ah, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have said that thing again. Shit, I was frustrated and angry. I am sorry” she gasped softly when Jimin embraced her tightly. It was a little too tightly actually.
“Ji- Jim-..Jimin can’t breathe” she coughed a little as the clumsy guy released her examining her body, lifting her arms and cupping her cheeks. “Oh god, I am sorry Seul.. did I hurt you anywhere?” she chuckled softly.
Seul sighed “I am alright Jims. Don’t worry”
Jungkook glanced at her in bafflement, probably was still shock after Jin’s bold move few minutes ago. He had to hold the urge to pull his hyung’s hair one by one. The revenge would come soon, Kim Seokjin.
Yoongi let out a sigh of relief, as he handed the plain water to her “Drink. You need to cleanse your mouth from Kim Seokjin’s dirty breath” he rolled his eyes earning a loud smack against his back by the one and only Kim Seokjin.
“Yah! Min Yoongi are you insulting me!”
Seul cringed at the loud voice, quickly took the drink from Yoongi “Thank you..” she softly muttered.
 Everyone scattered in the room after the confrontation taking a small break since they didn’t want to overwhelm Seul. She was sitting at the corner cross legged watching the boys having their private talk with each other. On her right side, Jungkook, Jimin and Yoongi were immersed in their conversation. She wondered if she was the main topic since they kept on stealing a glance at her way. Whilst, Namjoon and Hoseok were making fun of Jin trying to be heroic, saving her ass a moment ago.  
Gosh, that was embarrassing. She really hated herself from allowing such things happened to her again.
Her eyes darted off across the room looking for Taehyung. To her disappointment he was nowhere to be seen, she grew frustrated over it. Seul wanted to see him to wash off this guilt inside her. That was the only way to not let herself live in this unbearable pain.
“Are you looking for me?” Taehyung low mumbled could only be heard by her as he settled down beside her. Seul played with her fingers searching for inspiration to spark the conversation with Taehyung. She valued her friendship with him but when it slowly shattered this way, it hurt her in so many ways. She wondered why it really affect her.
Taehyung had to take a deep breath before he could even speak. His fingers unconsciously linked with hers “I felt pretty terrible for causing this and putting you in an uncomfortable situation. I know it is not your fault that those three men falling head over heels for you. I am being too harsh on you. Forgive me Seul?” she linked their fingers together.
“You don’t have to apologize. I am sorry for being selfish” she expelled a sigh of relief because Taehyung finally opened up to her. “I know you are uncomfortable with this whole thing, I have think of this thoroughly. Just like I said I will pre-“Taehyung hushed her by pressing his long slender fingers against her lips.
She was taken aback by his gentle move “Don’t..Take back your words. Don’t leave. If you leave now, it will only hurt us. We don’t want you to leave us. I know we are taking such risk by letting you in, but we cant afford to lose you. We will manage this Seul-ah. In the future, whatever happens we know…we are confident with our friendship. Let the time be the judge. Lets just enjoy the present and live our life as it is” he traced her jawline, to her cheeks.
“Taehyung…I..” she was touched by his kind words. His gentleness, his strong gaze and his deep voice, it was alluring him.
“Trust me. Trust us. We are BTS. We have gone through bunch of shits together, it only makes us stronger. Stay with us, make us feel more human. Only you can do that, Seul” he caressed his cheeks and quickly wiped the small tears which started to roll down again wetting her cheeks.
The members were firstly engrossed in their own things were watching two of them closely. They could finally breath a clear air now that Taehyung and Seul had reconciled. There were a lot of things happening in one day. With Yoongi and Jungkook unusual side that they’d never seen before, Seul’s making an appearance at the company helped to unravel everything.
They looked forward to this blossoming relationship with Seul.
The present sounded interesting to live from now on.
This work belongs to  Chimswae © 2020. All Rights Reserved
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chaoswillfallrpg · 3 years
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GEORGINE FARIBAULT is THIRTY YEARS OLD and the OWNER of FAIR FARIBAULT’S in KNOCKTURN ALLEY. She looks remarkably like IMOGEN POOTS and considers herself aligned with THE DEATH EATERS. She is currently OPEN.
→ OVERVIEW:
tw: death, blood, murder, violence
A fair haired beauty who is not as dainty as she appears, Georgine Fraibault was born in Paris to famed vampire MARIUS FARIBAULT and his wife LEA BADEAUX. The fourth child of Marius to be born into his line of the Faribault family, three had come before Georgine but only her older sister CLARICE was still surviving. Born a half-vampire, death had followed the Faribault family the most recent casuality being her own mother Lea. Her broken hearted father had selected a half-veela for his final wife hoping he could resisit her scent as she carried his child, but much to his dismay Lea met her end as his previous wives had. From old money, Georgine’s father owned a theatre in Paris popular with the magical community which kept their family in wealth though the Faribault family had money in their vaults to last them without it. Georgine and her sister Clarice had wanted for nothing. Growing up the pair were inseparable, though their distinct personalities were very different. Georgine was spoiled and image obsessed. She enjoyed all eyes to be on her at all times leaving little spotlight left for her older sister who felt more comfertable in the shadows like their father rather than the stage. 
Whatever Georgine was given was never quite enough for her. All of her handpainted pot dolls from all over France or the beautiful singbirds she kept in golden cages in their ballroom could never satisfy her insatiable wants. Marius loved them both so much he did whatever he could to keep them happy, though he could only manage Georgine’s worst moods to a point before he snapped back at her and bared his fangs in anger. Georgine’s moods would only worsen as the magic from her mother’s blood developed in her veins, causing her pot dolls to explode and her sister’s dresses to be torn into tatters with the flick of her wrist and the squint of an eye if she was angry. When the blood moon rose and her thirst consumed her whole Georgine became a firghtful thing, attacking anything in sight until her father could rein her in. Unlike Clarice who she found detsted the inner demon inside of her who thirsted for blood, Georgine embraced the darkness within her. She longed to become one with it and one day lead her family should her father ever decide to part from this world. Her mother was long dead and although she was curious about the world she came from her father and her sister was where her heart lied. 
Georgine begged and screamed for her father to turn her before she was sent away to school so she wouldn’t have to leave him but he refused. Though Marius wished he could freeze his daughters in time as beautiful children forever he knew there were worse things than having his children age beyond him. To one day have the mind of a woman trapped in the body of the child was a fate he would not condem them to. Georgine and her sister had already began to study magic before being offered their respective letters to study at select schools. Georgine attended Beaxbaton’s Academy of Magic in France. Clarice went to Hogwarts like her mother had in Scotland. Commanding her new school as she had her life at home, Georgine established herself amongst her peers with a more discreet level of power than what she had exercised at home. People weren’t sure why they were more willing to dance to Georgine’s tune until she proudly announced she was ¼ veela, a fact which went down with the majority of her year like a lead balloon and provided her with evermore attention from various witches, wizards and sorcerers who found themselves captivated by her. One such wizard was RAPHAEL FRANCOIS who would follow around every beck and call of the young witch. 
Everyone could see the relationship was one sided except for Raphael. Georgine simply enjoyed having someone around who could open doors for her and it would take someone very special to make her change her mind on the matter. After graduating from Beaxbatons she returned back to Paris, working in her father’s productions as a ballet dancer, having been trained for a number of years prior. She enjoyed putting her training to practise in front of adoring fans and having affairs with numerous ballerinas. But Georgine wanted more. She wnated the life her father had one day promised to offer them, but he wasn’t ready to ‘damn her soul’ and once again turned her away. Running off to London she sought the company of Clarice who had refused their father’s dark gift instead making a name for herself in The British Ministry of Magic and moving in with her wizard boyfriend RICHARD ELLINGTON to live a normal life away from the death and destruction that followed their family name. When Georgine met Richard she felt her world had glaze over. Georgine loved her sister, but her desire for Richard outweighed any loyalty she had for her. One night, during a Ministry function Georgine took her shot, pulling Richard into an alcove and kissing him passionately in the darkness. He did nothing to stop her, he hadn’t even objected. 
It was two years later before Clarice came back to their shared apartment one day and found her then fiancé and her only sister in bed together, scrambling at the sheets and trying to come up with an explanation to give Clarice as she stood in the doorway. Her sister cut her off there and then. Georgine wanted Clarice in her life but her older sister wouldn’t forgive her. Clarice hated her and any exchange they shared thereafter was hostile and cold. Sore from the treatment of her sister, her father finally agreed to grant Georgine her wish. Now finally thirty he hoped that in death should could make something more of her life than leaving a string of broken hearts in her wake. The venom burned into her skin, the virus killing any mortal part of her that was left, taking her magic and changing her forever. When Georgine opened her eyes her pulse, her veela powers and her magic was gone. She was finally a cretaure of the night and more beautiful than any who had come before her. Buying The Coffin Shop in Knockturn Alley, Georgine used the shop as the front for an undergound business, opening The Grave Affair as an underground vampire themed bar where she and Richard spent her evenings dancing until they dropped. It was she watched people flock to them both, the vampire and the half-veela she concieved her buisness idea. 
In the space above the shop the created Fair Faribault’s, an escort agency that employed the use of magical creatures the wizarding world had deemed desirable. At first it was just her and Richard, but as she made connections she added more names. CELESTIA CLARKE and LAURENT DANE signed on the dotting line making her more money than she could have ever dreamed. Selling The Grave Afffair to ANDRESSA and CHRISTANIO PARKINSON for a hefty fee she began to focus on growing her buisness, signing famed vampire DAHLIA BLACKWOOD and boosting their agency tenfold. But Georgine was always looking for the next boost for power and found it through none other than Christiano. A follower of a mysterious dark wizard, their group promised a better place for magical creatures and a chance for Georgine to have her rightful place in society as vampire royalty. Signing her name away in the hopes it would lead to better things Georgine is begining to doubt her choice. As The Death Eaters ask more to be invloved in her buisness and use her employees in dangerous ways to extort information out of key goverment officals, Georgine is begining to think she has bitten off more than she can chew. 
→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:
Blood Status → Vampire (former Half-Blood Witch & ¼ Veela)
Pronouns → She/Her
Identification → Cis Female 
Sexual Orientation → Bisexual
Relationship Status → In a Relationship with Richard Ellington
Previous Education → Beauxbatons Academy of Magic 
Societies → N/A
Family → Marius Faribault (father), Clarice Faribault (half-sister/adversary, Marcus Faribault (cousin)
Connections  → Richard Ellington (boyfriend/employee), Andressa Parkinson (business associate), Christiano Parkinson (business associate), Dahlia Blackwood (best friend/employee), Celestia Clarke (close friend/employee), Laurent Dane (close friend/employee), Raphael Francois (close friend), Laurel Linwood (employee), Constance Song (employee), Sebastian Fontaine (employee), Coraline Heather (employee)
Future Information → N/A
GEORGINE FARIBAULT IS A LEVEL 7 VAMPIRE.
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Eragon Movie Recap Part 6: Crash Course
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There are lessons to be learned.
Welcome back to the Eragon Movie Recap! It’s been a while since our last update, and while we’ve all grown as people in the meantime, there’s one thing we can say for certain: movie Eragon sure hasn’t. If this is your first time reading, I recommend that you start with Part 1 and work your way through the tag. If this isn’t your first time reading, welcome back! Regardless, it’s good to have you on board.
We pick up where Part 5 left off. There was a fight. Eragon did one (1) magic, causing him to lose consciousness. Saphira dropped in to help. Brom’s attempts to manage the team are getting mixed results. The team’s a disaster, sure, but it might just be enough.
We begin with a quick montage of Arya’s struggles since her first encounter with Durza. It does not look like she’s had a fun time. By this point, the repetition of this information is starting to add up into its own flavour of unpleasant. And wouldn’t you know it! This was another one of Eragon’s dreams the whole time.
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Eragon wakes up, more than a little sore from the big flashy move he pulled at the end of the fight in Daret. Seeing as he and Brom are sitting on top of a hill in the middle of the day, Eragon guesses that he’s missed a few key developments. He asks Brom for the details.
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Brom says that Eragon performed some magic. And by instinct, no less! Apparently this is a rare thing, even among Dragon Riders. During this whole exchange, Brom exudes some peculiar emotions - I think he’s proud, and maybe even impressed! “Flawless work 10/10” was not book Brom’s reaction to the awful strategy of “make problem go boom”, which tends to leave loose ends.
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So Brom’s reaction might be a little weird. So what? it’s not nearly as weird as Eragon’s. Eragon’s face is filled with some bizarre kind of smug fascination, as though he just discovered a real-life cheat code and can’t wait to start wreaking havoc.
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When Eragon asks after Saphira, Brom continues his disconcerting infodump by complimenting the strength of Eragon’s bond with his dragon. Eragon gets all excited as he asks if his magic killed the Urgals that ambushed them the previous night. Brom confirms this in the same tone before immediately shifting gears, changing course to the metropolis of mixed messages.
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Having finally disembarked from Eragon’s hype train, Brom launches into a quick overview of magic. He gives Eragon a warning. Explains the dangers. Begins a proper lesson. He explains magic’s connection to the ancient elven language, and gives a brief vocabulary lesson, resulting in a peculiar selection of words - primarily describing things that Eragon found in arm’s reach and felt compelled to ask about. Brom also vaguely references the concepts of true names and energy costs, which was a pleasant surprise, before immediately glossing over them in favour of introducing dragon-o-vision, which is treated as important for some reason.
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Since the events in Daret wrecked their old plan, Brom has gone ahead and made some changes. Saphira arrives to help him explain: Eragon should cover much of the distance by flying. Eragon expresses some hesitation at this - after all, the one time he tried was a pretty solid failure - but Saphira’s admission that it was also her fault is all it takes to get him rearing to go.
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With Eragon seated securely in the shiny new saddle (they do mention that Brom acquired it, which it’s good to know they thought about), Saphira approaches the edge of a nearby cliff. Eragon manages to get in a cocky one-liner before seeing the distance between the clifftop and the ground far, far below. He screams as Saphira jumps off. But after a few seconds of not dying, Eragon gets a handle on things and starts to enjoy the flight. He has to lean to help Saphira steer, and while airborne shenanigans do ensue, they are much less extreme than the ones that happened during the flight over Carvahall. All the while, Brom follows the pair on horseback, laughing. He shouts advice at them as they fly by.
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Saphira tries showing off, and Eragon repeatedly comes close to falling. While discussing various Dragon Features, Saphira tells Eragon that, apparently, Real Dragon Riders™ can “fight from everywhere, even from the tail”. How is this helpful? We don’t get to know. Eragon tries to give tail riding a go, but concludes that he isn’t ready. Rare wisdom from him. Interestingly, the tail riding may have been foreshadowed by some of the shenaniganry during the flight above Carvahall, though this might be giving the writers too much credit.
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Eragon instead settles for activating dragon-o-vision, as described by Brom. The movie communicates its activation partly by showing the world through a dragon-o-vision lens, and partly by showing Eragon with weird - and arguably unsettling - visual effects on his eyes. Eragon thinks it’s cool, and Saphira one-ups the experience by activating the zoom-and-enhance feature.
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Looking around, Eragon and Saphira spot Brom through the trees, conveniently highlighted in red. Also highlighted in red are the Ra’zac, which are quickly closing in on him. For me, this raises a few questions. Why are the Ra’zac highlighted in Saphira’s vision? If they were tracked automatically, why has she not noticed them before? If tracking is automatic in general, why are these three figures the only things highlighted at all? If tracking is manual, how did she start highlighting them if she didn’t know they were there? If she retained tracking from a previous encounter, then she should have already seen them. Maybe they were indirectly highlighted by Brom, who was already being tracked. Or maybe the much-lauded dragon-o-vision isn’t so reliable. The exact workings of this bizarre spy display are not terrifically important, but it bothers me that any in-universe explanation for this weird convenience is left unclear. Then again, maybe the in-universe explanation is “because dragons”.
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On the ground, the Ra’zac abandon the element of surprise in favour of doing a spooky parkour demo. Maybe they’re trying to intimidate Brom? Intimidated or otherwise, Brom sees them and immediately recognizes the situation for what it is: an ambush. He commands Eragon to keep out of the conflict, but Eragon and Saphira are already on their way, and they won’t be persuaded to stop.
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As Eragon and Saphira descend into the forest, the Ra’zac jump out to attack, catching them off-guard. I don’t know how the Ra’zac managed this, seeing as they should still have been tracked by Saphira’s dragon-o-vision. As for Saphira herself, she meets her most threatening adversary yet: trees. Not even the really solid old ones, just… average trees.
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Eragon, meanwhile, is facing his own adversary. One of the Ra’zac has him pinned to the ground, but it proves to be no match for our new master of magic. Eragon summons a tree branch to do his bidding (using a word he learned less than five minutes ago) and the Ra’zac gets absolutely wrecked. By a tree. Eragon’s attacker is dead now, because of a tree. I think we may have discovered the most dangerous entities in this entire story!
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With only one Ra’zac left, Eragon moves to check on Saphira. She’s in a bit of a tough spot on the forest floor, but she’s regained some perception and gives Eragon enough warning to evade a sudden attack from the final Ra’zac. But just as their fight is about to begin, a newcomer enters the scene. It’s Brom! Using that weirdly-coloured sword he brought from his house in Carvahall, he shows off some impressive sword skills. After a brief scuffle, Brom stands triumphant over the defeated Ra’zac, watching his opponent disintegrate into a torrent of bugs at his feet.
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With the conflict over, Eragon stares at Brom, seeing him in a new light. Some gears are turning in his head, but he doesn’t say anything as Brom’s sword gleams in the sunlight.
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Before we move on, let’s take a moment to notice that the Ra’zac are dead now. This is not what happened in the book.Their presence later on in the books is key to the story. But they’re both dead now, so they can’t be there. I suppose they could be replaced - Durza summoned them out of thin air, after all, or maybe it was dead leaves, or maybe it was a massive swarm of insects. It doesn’t really matter. What does matter is that they’re replaceable. The Ra’zac were especially significant in the book because they, personally, caused so much grief through their own actions. Not Galby, not long-distance Durza. It was the Ra’zac. But now, they might as well have no will of their own. Even if Roran does return to Carvahall, even if he does get chased back out by a pair of Ra’zac, they will not be the creatures that killed his father. They will not be the ones that destroyed his farm. They will not be the ones who threatened his cousin for so long. Even if that specific pair is brought back, that ship has sailed. If re-summoning does bring back the same creatures, then their defeat has no meaning. They are no longer vanquishable foes. But regardless of what the future holds, this scene reduces the Ra’zac to generic, faceless monsters. Any chance they had at being actual characters - at least in the story this movie is telling - is long gone.
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Some time passes, and Brom and Eragon tend to Saphira’s wounds. Those trees got her good! Brom is thoroughly displeased with Eragon and Saphira’s disregard for personal safety. Saphira’s attempt to play it cool only sets him off further, but Eragon takes the opportunity to throw Brom’s own philosophy back at him: “better to ask forgiveness than permission”. Would you look at that! It did come back!
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When the first aid ends, Eragon corners Brom to pursue a suspicion that I assume is what he was thinking about after Brom’s sword fight. Quoting their previously-established no-lie policy, Eragon slices one of Brom’s hand-wrap fingerless-glove things. This reveals his palm, and wouldn’t you know it! Brom was a Dragon Rider the whole time!
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Strangely, the mark on Brom’s palm is the same shape as Eragon’s, even though Eragon’s is shaped like the stylized “e” from the movie’s title. The movie is named after him, so this almost makes sense for his mark, but not so much for Brom’s. Sensible or otherwise, I digress. Realizing that the jig is up, Brom sets into a weird sort of sentimental mood, and clarifies that his riderhood is a thing of the past. When asked, Brom informs the party, without ceremony, that his dragon is long dead. He launches into a story about the man who killed her - a Rider named Morzan.
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Brom describes the details - the weirdly-coloured sword he wielded earlier is the very blade that killed his dragon years before. Its name is Zar’roc, and it belonged to Morzan. After his dragon’s death, Brom tracked Morzan down, killed him with his own blade, and watched as Morzan’s dragon perished with him. No more Rider, no more Dragon. That’s a rule now, remember? Once his work was done, Brom moved to Carvahall and kept his head down. Interestingly, I think that’s the first time this movie has referred to Carvahall by name. It’s possible that I missed an earlier use of the name, but in case I didn’t, I would like to point out that we are more than halfway through this movie’s runtime.
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This story is told entirely through Brom’s words. Sure, he makes some gestures for illustration, and sure, there’s a bit of background music, but I don’t think that’s the best this film could have done with this tale’s delivery. This would have been a prime opportunity for a flashback montage similar to the one in the prologue. But even if we keep the visuals as they are, adding a soundscape to illustrate the events Brom describes would add so much to the scene. I think it would have been really neat, and would draw the viewer in, keeping them on their toes. But even without that, I have to respect Jeremy Irons’s delivery of the text. As always, his storytelling carries the scene. At this point, maybe scene is the wrong word - we could just call it an infodump. Either way, good job, dude!
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Through this whole movie, the discussion of the relationship and power dynamic between Dragons and their Riders has been a little strange. The way people talk about Dragons, it’s easy to think that they are prioritized over their Riders. But during Brom’s story, he mentions how his Dragon sacrificed her life to save his, and everyone seems to agree with Saphira’s remark of “better we than our Riders”. And I suppose that’s true in this movie, since the Rider’s death causes the Dragon to die anyway. But I can’t help but wonder if they would still see things that way if the Dragon/Rider mutual death pact didn’t exist.
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Brom tells Eragon and Saphira that he always felt deep shame for killing Morzan’s dragon - the last one, not counting Galby’s - and ending an era. This suggests that he believes that an era that only has evil Dragon/Rider teams is preferable over an era with no Dragon/Rider teams at all, which doesn’t seem quite right. But now we learn why Brom has chosen to be so tolerant of Eragon’s poor decisions: since Eragon and Saphira are here, there’s a new Dragon/Rider team on the scene! The dark times are over - Brom can finally let go of his guilt.
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That’s it for Part 6! This part covered about 10 minutes of screentime. We got some peculiar developments in the story this time. Several almost-deaths. Even so, it felt a little light on eventfulness. But Part 7 does not have that problem at all. I’m looking forward to it, and I hope you are too! Thank you all for reading, and I would like to apologize for the unplanned hiatus. Real life - you know how it is.
Remember to tune in next week when we visit such questions as “what are the exact specifications of dragon-o-vision?”, “where did all the Ra’zac’s bugs go?”, and “will the trees be the real winners of this war?”. See you then!
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fantasymouse · 5 years
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Our Ordinary Life - 2
Word count: 6k
Tags: ot7 x reader | monster!au | fluff | mature themes
Summary:  When a hapless human named y/n is inducted as a “volunteer” into the government exchange program, her world is turned upside down. 
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The sun beamed brightly outside, clear skies and calm wind. It seemed to be a perfect day to do some laundry. After folding the damp clothes from the washing machine and putting it in a laundry basket, you headed upstairs and out to the balcony. Opening the glass door leading to the open space you saw Jungkook hanging clothes. A drying rack standing in the middle. The large naga hummed happily to himself as he easily hung up the soggy clothes from a green basket beside his black tail. “You’re in a good mood. What happened?” you curiously asked when you stood beside him, placing the blue basket on the ground. He turned to you with a dreamy smile “Oh, princess. You’re so shameless!” he exclaimed before hitting your shoulder playfully.
Unfortunately, he underestimated his strength and his playful nudge was more like a heavy hit on your shoulder blade. “Ow!” you whined while rubbing the now sore area. Of course, Jungkook didn’t notice your painful expression as he hugged the towel he was holding. A small blush covered his cheeks, the black scales on his jaw getting a pinkish tint. He sported a coy smile as he answered “of course I’m in a good mood. You were so sweet yesterday” he looked into the distance, remembering how you’d jumped in front of him and knocked out the man that had been incredibly rude to him.
“I won’t let anyone hurt Jungkook~” he giggled like a love-struck schoolgirl as he repeated what you had said to him last night. You glared at him mumbling “I don’t sound like that.” Jungkook ignored your statement and continued swaying back and forth on his tail. Happily dreaming of how cute you looked yesterday.  After hanging up the towel in hands, he slithered his way back inside. Before leaving the balcony he turned to look at you “if you’re ever in trouble, I’ll protect you” after promising this he went inside. You couldn’t help laughing at him, unable to look away from his retreating figure, you didn’t notice the looming shadow that suddenly emerged above you. Until that something grabbed you by the shoulders, you screamed in confusion when whatever had clutched you, lifted you from the balcony with ease. Hearing your scream, Jungkook quickly returned to the balcony “princess!” he shouted as he watched in shock at the creature that was clutching your shoulders. Brown feathers swirled through the wind as they fell from the winged beast.
A demihuman with talons for feet and wings instead of arms stood on the railing, his talons clutching your shoulders tightly. “Hey! Princess!” Jungkook called after you when the winged creature took off and flew away with your now unconscious body.
Slowly you opened your eyes, grunting in pain as a piercing headache made itself known. You found yourself hanging in a tall tree. You recognized the area as a park from your neighborhood. Your breath hitched as the creature that had kidnapped you, was hovering in front of you. His features were young and soft, leading you to believe that he was in his late teens or early twenties. He had big, russet-colored eyes. With ash brown, messy hair that gave you the strangest urge to run your fingers through his soft looking locks. He was wearing beige shorts and a black tank top. His arms were substituted with falcon-like wings, the wingspan reached approximately 4 meters, when he realized that you were staring at him, he asked: “are you awake?” Confused about the current situation, you couldn’t think to ask anything other than who he was. He smiled with childish innocence and answered “Jimin! I’m Jimin Park. Jimin the harpy.” Still puzzled you adjusted your grip on the branch holding you up as you asked “what? Jimin who?” he flew closer to you with a large smile, responding with what sounded like a question of his own “Harpy the Jimin. No, wait. Parky the Jimin? Jarmi?” His wing folded, a small bat-like digit on the ‘palm’ of his wing allowed him to scratch his chin, while he contemplated what his name was. “Jimi Jimin Jimin? Jimin Jinim Jim?” His mannerisms seemed so childlike you didn’t think he actually meant you any harm. Giving up on learning his name you said “anyway, where’s your host family? You’re not supposed to be alone” He flapped his large wings again and landed on a branch beside you. His talons dug into the wood as he gracefully balanced himself. Jimin smiled excitedly and exclaimed, “that’s why I brought you here!”
You stared, astounded, at him “you kidnapped me for that?” Jimin didn’t answer your question. His attention now on an ice cream truck parked nearby. Jimin's eyes lit up at the brightly colored truck, a small family standing to buy some of the frozen goods “huh? What’s that? Is it food?!” annoyed that he blatantly ignored you, you yelled, “listen to me!” Before you knew it, Jimin flew skyward and easily grabbed your shoulders again. He plucked you from the branch and placed you on the ground. After joining you on the ground, he linked his wing with your arm and dragged you towards the ice cream truck. Barely giving you enough time to catch your balance as you stumbled after him. Jimin managed to take three steps before he suddenly stopped. He turned to look at your linked arms and then at you with a blank stare. Jimin pulled his wing away from you “huh? Who are you?” shocked at what was happening you nearly collapsed. You realized just how much of a birdbrain this guy was.
You bought both of you ice cream and guided him to a bench. Hoping to get some information about his host family. Jimin held his vanilla ice cone with both of his wings since he didn’t have hands he struggled a little with holding on to it “I’m not allowed to go out until I memorize the Interspecies Ceremony” Jimin explained. “You mean ‘Interspecies Exchange Bill’” you corrected him. He offhandedly remarked “it’s too difficult for me to remember, though. So when the terminator wasn’t looking...” while he was playing around with the cone you half-heartedly corrected him again “you mean ‘coordinator’” he continued talking ignoring your remarks “I ran away!” Shocked at what you were hearing, you exclaimed, “that can’t be good!” Jimin offered you an untroubled smile, while gleefully reassuring “don’t worry! I’ve run away a few times, but I didn’t get in trouble” a frown appeared on his joyous face when he remembered something.
“But they said next time I ran away, they’d abort me. What does that mean?” struggling to keep up with his bad memory, you once again corrected him. “I think you mean they’d ‘deport’ you! You’re in huge trouble!” His face visibly paled as he repeated “trouble…” at that moment he dropped his ice cream. It almost seemed to fall in slow motion, before splashing across the ground in a cold puddle. He cried out “I hadn’t even had a single bite yet!” he sank to his knees while crying, “it’s so hard to hold!” With hands like that, it’s no wonder. You felt bad for him and looked at your own ice cream. Sighing, you offered it to him “do you want this, then?” his whining stopped immediately. Jimin turned towards you, an excited smile on his plump lips. “Okay. Thank you!” He put his mouth around the ice cream and started licking it. Unintentionally making loud slurping noises as he sucked on the icy treat. “Um, could you hold it yourself?” you suggested when you noticed how other people in the park stared at the scene. He looked up at you with big, innocent eyes, “I might drop it again” Jimin muttered, with the ice cream still in his mouth. It had started melting slightly and dribbled down his chin.
Jimin moaned happily as he continued eating the ice cream “it’s so good!” A small blush appeared on your cheeks when slowly, you realized that him, kneeling in front of you while moaning.... looked kinda like… “What are they doing?” someone whispered, but still loud enough for you to hear, everyone was looking at the scene unfolding surely thinking that you were participating in something less than innocent. “She’s a pervert,” someone else remarked. A mother even covered the eyes of her child as she chastised “don’t look” and sped away from the scene. Flustered, you quickly pulled the ice cream away from him “t-time’s up! No more ice cream!” in your haste to pull away from him, some of the ice cream splattered onto his cheeks and chin. Making him look wickedly sinful, as the white treat vaguely resembled something else. He whined “I’m all sticky” Jimin looked down at himself and coughed. Once again, your mind was thrown into panic. “You need to clean up! There’s a faucet over there!” you pointed towards your destination, turning back to make sure he had followed you. Your heart nearly stopped “what are you doing?!” you exclaimed, as he threw off all of his clothes and jumped into a nearby fountain. He looked at you over his shoulder and smiled like he wasn’t standing butt-naked in a public fountain. Casually he answered “bathing!”
Struggling to construct a proper sentence you stammered “n-no, I mean your clothes!” Jimin cheekily turned around and stretched his wings “don’t you know you’re supposed to bathe naked?” you were speechless as the birdbrain made fun of you. Your patience was running thin, “just get out of there!” you shouted, Jimin ignored you and tossed himself into the water, peacefully floating on the surface while happily exclaiming “this feels great! It’s so nice that you have baths in the city” multiple women around the park were staring, with burning faces at the handsome and very naked guy, minding his own business in the fountain. Not that you could blame them, he was undoubtedly attractive. You ground your teeth and growled “this guy is clueless about human society. Even as a bird, you can only be so airheaded!” you were starting to sweat, from the stress this guy was giving you. Suddenly, three sharp talons grabbed your shirt and pulled you into the fountain. Gleefully Jimin exclaimed “don’t just stand there! Play with me!” his foot remained on your shoulder, keeping you submerged. You managed to get your head above the shallow water, and yelled “stop! Keep me out of this!”
Suddenly, a familiar voice bellowed “I found you!” turning your head towards the sound, you saw Jungkook. Relieved to see him, you hollered “Jungkook! How did you know where I-” his expression made you tongue-tied. His mouth was fixed in a permanent snarl, showing his sharp fangs. His hands were clenched and shoulders stiff. His expression of someone who was out for blood “you bird brat! You kidnapped my princess, and now this?” He hissed angrily, Jungkook glared at your current position, between the legs of a very naked male. His tail coiled and started thrashing around with anger as he looked at you. Jungkook made his way to the fountain, roaring “I’m the only one who can steal my princess and elope with her!” you took notice of how he was standing slightly higher on his tail, appearing bigger. Although, this didn’t seem to frighten Jimin who stood his ground “What?! You wanna fight?!” they snarled ferociously at each other, neither noticing you being trapped between them “wait, what are you two-” You weren’t fast enough to defuse the situation and Jungkook struck first. His tail coiled around the naked torso of Jimin and threw him into the air. “You bird brat! I’ll make chicken soup out of you” Jungkook growled, while unintentionally squishing you beneath his tail. Jungkook was too preoccupied with Jimin to notice. “What did you say?! What was that about chicken!” Jimin swiped his large talons at Jungkook, ripping his shirt to pieces. Once again you were caught in the crossfire and got cut on the shoulder.
You stumbled back, grunting “you’re putting on quite a show, having a fight here…” They stopped their battle and you all turned to see how many people were staring at the spectacle you were causing. To your surprise, no one was paying any attention. Everyone stood huddled, with their backs turned to the fountain. “No one’s looking?” You directed your gaze to where the group of people was looking and saw a small girl, with wild, red curls. She was stuck in a tree. “Don’t move! Someone call the police!” a woman screamed, fearing that the girl would fall and get severely hurt. “Get a ladder truck!” a man yelled as they huddled closer around the tree in hopes of finding some way to get her down. The young girl had climbed up the tree to get her kite but had realized just how high up she was and became paralyzed with fear. She was crying for her mother while shakingly clinging to the branch supporting her weight. “She can’t get down?” Jimin and Jungkook immediately forgot about their fight and moved towards the child. “Put some clothes on!” you mumbled, making Jimin realize that he was still standing in his birthday suit. He quickly put his clothes on. “Is she okay?” you wondered out loud, while you looked at the small child. How did she even manage to get up that high?
Jimin turned to you with a determined smile.  “Don’t worry. Leave it to me! I’ll peck her until she falls” he stated and then took off, running and flapping his strong wings “don’t do that!” you yelled after him. Just as he jumped to take off the ground, he unimpressively fell flat on his face. Jimin looked at his soggy feathers and moaned “I can’t fly because my wings are wet…” Jungkook exclaimed with confidence “leave this to me! Nagas are good at climbing trees” he swiftly slithered towards the tree and wrapped his long, black tail around it, easily climbing it. Much like actual snakes climb. As Jungkook crawled towards the top he mumbled to himself “okay. I’ll save that girl and impress my princess” unexpectedly there were an incredible amount of leaves, completely obscuring his view. Where was the girl again? “Ouch! They’re sticking to me!” he complained when the branches cut his skin.
The young girl had closed her eyes, still whimpering for her mother. When she heard the rustling leaves in front of her, she opened her eyes. She screamed when glowing, amber eyes peered back at her from the foliage. Jungkook hissed “found you” unintentionally scaring the girl senseless. Causing her to lose her grip on the branch. Shocked that the girl fell, Jungkook thrust his tail forward but barely grazed her fingertips, as she fell out of his reach and closer to the pavement. Everyone around the tree gasped when the girl fell. Without thinking twice you jumped to catch the girl. You tried shielding her fall with your own body when suddenly you were enveloped by soft, mahogany feathers. “My wings are too heavy!” Jimin groaned as he protected both of you. He landed with a sharp grunt, successfully managing to secure the safety of you and the child from getting hurt. You sat up and stared down at Jimin as you straddled him. “you saved me?” He nodded in response, too winded to answer you. Gratefully, you praised “good job, Jimin. That was cool” his eyes lit up at your approval and a red tint dusted his cheeks. The mother came running to her child while thanking Jimin for catching her.
You moved to stand beside Jungkook who was pouting at not being recognized for his efforts “I tried, too...” he mumbled. You smiled sympathetically and brushed the leaves still stuck in his hair away. “It’s okay. I know.” A police officer came up behind you both, looking around puzzled. “Oh? I heard a child was stuck in a tree…” Jungkook scoffed “too late.” Jimin carefully walked up to your side, looking at the officer with a proud grin “This one got her down safely,” you said while patting Jimin’s back. “Really? Thanks for your help” the officer seemed surprised but was grateful nonetheless and saluted him. Jimin beamed at the praise and saluted the officer back “thank you!” The officer then looked at Jungkook and back to Jimin. “By the way, you’re non-human exchange students, right? Where are your host families?” they both turned to you, Jungkook responding “I have my princess…” before looking to Jimin. “Are you going to abort me now?” Jimin asked, looking perplexed. Quickly you corrected him “I told you, it’s ‘deport’! You’re going to be kicked out of the country” he turned pale and whimpered “what?!” Jimin clung to your arm as the officer suspiciously glanced between the three of you.
Seeing how scared Jimin was, it made your heart feel like stone. Without thinking of the consequences, you boldly stated “I’m his host family. They’re both staying with me” Jungkook was amazed by your kindness, he gazed at you with affection. “Okay then, let me see your papers, please” all three of you winced. Realizing that Jungkook’s papers were still at home and you didn’t actually have any for Jimin. The officer’s glare hardened considerably. He questioned your nervous reactions “are your papers….” the officer was interrupted by a familiar voice announcing “they’re right here.” Beside you stood Namjoon, with a small passport-like paper, with Jimin’s picture on it.
You all returned home, where you sat and admired Namjoon. “That was amazing. How did you get papers for him on such short notice?” he took a sip from the coffee you’d offered and smirked, replying “I already had them” followed by a wink. “huh, why?” you questioned while glancing to Jimin who was sitting on the armchair, carefully holding a cup of cocoa with his wings. Jungkook stood slightly behind him, chuckling at the harpy’s cuteness. Namjoon continued explaining “I couldn’t find anyone who’d host a repeat runaway. So on my way to force-” he awkwardly cleared his throat “I mean, ask you to take care of him, he ran away” your eyes widened when you connected the dots. “You’re the coordinator Jimin ran away from? Wait. You mean-” Namjoon turned to Jimin, completely ignoring you “so on that note, Jimin, this is your new home” Jimin excitedly leaned forward in his seat as he exclaimed “really?!” while Jungkook loudly exclaimed “what?!” in disbelief.
Namjoon turned to you, sending another wink while saying “y/n’s technically the master of this house, so make sure you listen to her” Jimin kicked his avian legs back and forth while promising to be good. Jungkook frowned at the new addition to the house. You stepped forward asking “wait. Can they both stay at the same time?” Namjoon shrugged. “Why not?” You sighed heavily and placed down your own coffee cup “Namjoon, you really are careless aren’t you.” he peered over the edge of his coffee mug, once again ignoring your comments, instead opting to address Jimin once more. “Jimin, don’t run away again” Jimin quickly shuffled towards you, embracing you with his large wings “it’s okay. I don’t understand complicated stuff, but I did learn one thing. I just need to stick with Master from now on, right? Take care of me, Master!” he was smiling so brightly his eyes had become crescents.
“Hey, Master, let’s take a bath! Let’s pick up where we left off! Come on, come on, come on!” Jungkook watched, still somewhat dumbfounded, while Jimin pulled you towards the bathroom “don’t pull, and actually…” you looked to Jungkook, silently searching for his permission. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings. His sour expression turned to a soft smile “why not? Princess, keep Jimin company” you mumbled okay, letting Jimin lead you towards the bath. Very surprised that he wasn’t making a big fuss out of it. Namjoon pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and said “Jungkook, you’re taking this surprisingly well. I thought you’d object.” Jungkook closed his eyes, ignoring the feeling of jealousy bubbling in his stomach. “I-It’s no big deal. I’m a little upset a nuisance has found its way into the love nest I share with my princess… But Jimin’s a child. Also, he’s a child. And most of all, he’s a child. An adult like me can handle him” Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest haughtily. Namjoon raised his hand to get Jungkook’s attention “oh, my. Jimin is older than you, actually.” this fact struck Jungkook like lightning, his cool and calm composure completely thrown out the window.
Namjoon dipped his head with a knowing smirk “harpies evolved to have smaller bodies so they could fly, so they’re often older than they look” Jungkook had stopped listening, he was already storming towards the bathroom. He kicked in the door, startling both you and Jimin as he practically roared “princess, never mind! I’ll keep him company!” After you had been kicked out of the bathroom and they were sitting in the bath. Jungkook was harshly scrubbing Jimin’s hair while snarling “listen. Princess is my princess. Lay a finger on her, and you’ll pay” Jimin glared at Jungkook responding “I don’t have fingers” making Jungkook growl “that’s not what I meant. If you do anything to my princess, you’ll pay.” Meanwhile, you were sitting completely stunned in the hallway as you considered if you could even survive to live with two demihumans.
Surprisingly, you woke up early. It was still relatively dark out and you took this moment to relish in the quiet and calm. Silently you made your way down the hall and peeked into the boys’ bedroom. Thankfully both guys were in deep slumber. their soft snores making you giggle as you looked at their position. Throughout the night, Jungkook had slithered his tail around Jimin’s body and was blissfully cuddling the other male. Jimin sported a somewhat pained expression when Jungkook cuddled closer. From past experience, you could empathize with the poor harpy, but then again you couldn’t deny being very thankful that Jungkook had found a new cuddle buddy to unconsciously strangle. It had been a few days since Jimin moved into your humble abode and you were very happy that both of them were getting along. Careful not to make any noise, you closed their door and headed to the kitchen. A heavy feeling of exhaustion hit you the second you opened the fridge. As you had suspected and feared, it was completely empty. If you thought feeding Jungkook before was troublesome, adding Jimin to the mix certainly didn’t help. You decided to get fully dressed and wrote a small note to the boys, explaining that you had gone to get groceries. You pinned it to the table, making sure they could find it and headed out.
By now the sun was up and the cold breeze combined with the morning sun was a pleasant feeling. Thankfully you didn’t live far from the store and was able to walk there within ten minutes. You noted that there stood a small sign, warning customers of frequent purse snatchings in the area. Too tired to pay it any mind you continued shopping. When you finished buying groceries, you stood with two completely filled bags and groaned “I can’t believe I’m going shopping first thing in the morning. Both Jungkook and Jimin eat a lot” you couldn’t help sighing loudly while you questioned if your budget could handle this for much longer. Your tired mind didn’t have time to register the thundering sound of hooves rushing towards you before it was too late. You just barely managed to turn your head in time to witness a massive body running straight toward you. The force was so powerful that you were propelled to the ground, your groceries flying all over the sidewalk as well. 
An unfamiliar voice spoke intensely “I can’t believe we actually met. It must be fate!” Fully awake at this point you stared in disbelief at the centaur towering above you. His lower horse body covered by a black stable sheet and his upper human torso wearing a plain, button-up shirt. His dark brown hair revealed large equine ears that stood attentively. “My name is Hoseok Jung. I’m a member of the dignified centaur race. Are you the one destined to become my master?” Once he finished his introduction, Hoseok finally noticed that you were sitting on the ground looking like your soul had left you.
“Hoseok? He’s allowed out on his own by a special exception. Centaurs have a tradition of finding their own masters.” Namjoon’s tired voice explained through the phone, “masters?” you questioned very confusedly about this entire situation. “It probably means his host family. While he’s here, his host family will be…” you couldn’t hear the last part of Namjoon’s sentence as he stopped talking to let out a loud yawn. “Namjoon?” you could faintly hear the rustling of his sheets as he most likely turned around on his bed. He exhaustedly mumbled “sorry, but today’s my day off. Could you take care of him? Goodnight” despite your quick refusal Namjoon ended the call. “He’s so careless.” Hoseok offered to help carry the bags which you gladly accepted. “Why are you running around this early, anyway? You could have caused a traffic accident! I nearly died” Hoseok stammered as he tried explaining himself, while also apologizing for running into you. Meanwhile, a woman walked past the two of you, hardly able to keep her eyes off the spectacle you and Hoseok were causing.
“Well, because…” Hoseok was interrupted when the woman screamed at a man driving on a red scooter, who grabbed her bag while yelling like a madman. “Move it, move it, move it!” he roared at you as he showed no sign of turning, Hoseok swiftly grabbed your elbow and shouted, “watch out!” Hoseok held you to him while he glared at the thief driving off. “Damn you. Committing crimes?” Hoseok growled, you feebly tried stepping away from Hoseok. He was hugging you so tightly that nearly couldn’t breathe. Startled at your close proximity he jumped away from you. A dark blush covered his cheeks and nose as he apologized. You glared at the scooter stating “that’s the guy who’s been snatching purses around here lately!” Hoseok’s face contorted into a similar scowl as your own. He pulled out a sword from the holster strapped to his waist. “What? As a proud member of the centaur race, I cannot ignore this. I swear on my blade that I will capture him!” After a second he put the sword back in its holster and grumbled “but according to the Interspecies Exchange Bill, I cannot touch him. That’s why I’ve been looking for a master to fight alongside me.” shocked that he even had a sword you wondered if he wasn’t already violating the Weapons Control Law? Hoseok suddenly grabbed your wrist, regaining your attention.
With a determined look in his eyes, Hoseok said “It can’t be helped, however. It matters not if you aren’t my master. Come with me.” He started pulling you, his long strides too quick for you to follow. “Okay, okay I get it! I’ll ride you” You managed to get your wrist free and went to jump onto his back, the second you touched his back, Hoseok yelped and kicked his hind leg out. Narrowly missing your head. You heaved in shock, astonished that Hoseok might actually have killed you just then. But, your fury of nearly dying dwindled once you saw his face. It was completely flushed as he wore a scandalized expression “what are you doing? I’m not a horse! If you’re not my master, then cease your rude behavior.” He scolded crossing his arms in disbelief as he took a step away from you. “How am I supposed to go with you, then?” You exclaimed.
Before you knew it. You were hanging off his side. Desperately hugging his waist while Hoseok sprinted at full speed to catch up with the thief. “Stop right there! Otherwise, you’ll taste the weight of your crimes on the edge of my blade!” Hoseok confidently shouted once he spotted the thief. A light blush persisted while he glanced down at you and grumbled “touch me inappropriately, and I’ll throw you off, got it?” his warning flew somewhat over your head since you were currently in a mild state of panic to not fall off. “Slow down!” you yelped in fear. Unfortunately, the thief only sped up on his motorcycle not giving a second glance back. “You won’t escape!” Hoseok yelled and started racing in full gallop. As you chased the thief down, he rounded a sharp corner, the thief managed to easily drift through it. You, on the other hand, was struggling like hell not to fall off of Hoseok, who showed no hint of slowing down either.
“I’m falling! I’m falling!” you screamed, terror fueling your limbs to move on their own in order to get a better grip on Hoseok’s body. “Stop flailing, you fool!” Hoseok yelled angrily. Ahead of you, the thief drove over a pile of water jugs causing them to fall directly towards you and Hoseok. With ease, he pulled out his sword and sliced through them. Unfortunately, this meant that the water absolutely drenched both of you. Your white t-shirt quickly became see-through, although you hardly had time to notice as you desperately tried to stay on Hoseok and not fly off. “Too easy. Is that the best you can do?” Hoseok yelled mockingly at the thief ahead. By this point, you had been jostled so much that you were practically sitting on Hoseok’s back. Of course, Hoseok noticed this as well, he also noticed the state of your now completely see-through shirt. Giving him a full view of your struggling bra, fighting with all it’s might, to keep your boobs in place as they bounced violently with every step Hoseok took. A heavy blush quickly flushed Hoseok’s face, trying to focus on running. They reached an intersection, the thief, without fear, drove across a small platform allowing him to jump the steel fence onto another road. “See you later, horse boy!” he hollered while cackling like a madman, he thought he was finally getting away from you both. “How insolent. Is that all you’ve got?” the harsh yet determined glare on Hoseok’s face gave away exactly what he intended to do. “Wait, you’re not gonna-”
Without warning, Hoseok turned to dodge cars and jumped with all his might. You screamed in terror when you both flew through the air. Hoseok landed right behind the thief, swiftly running up beside him, causing the thief to swerve. “You won’t escape” Hoseok growled, placing his sword by the thief’s throat. “Hey, you. I need you to-” Just as Hoseok was asking you to do something, you finally managed to get a good grip on him. You pressed your legs tightly to the rib cage of his horse body. Which effectively seated you on his back. “I thought I was going to die” you exhaled with panic still evident in your voice. The sensation of having someone ride on his back caused Hoseok to cry out. Mortified, Hoseok nearly screamed, “What do you think you’re doing, idiot?!” Hoseok suddenly started kicking with his hind legs, making you lose balance once again. “If you keep kicking, I’ll-” Your words cut off, as you clung to Hoseok, hugging his broad chest as tight as possible. Your boobs unintentionally rubbing against his back. Once Hoseok realized what that warm, soft feeling on his shoulder blades was, he outright moaned. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? Damn you… Not only are you riding me, but now you’re doing something so shameful? You’ll pay for this later!” Once again you didn’t really pay any heed to his words, busy screaming your lungs out from nearly falling off of him again. As if it wasn’t enough, you accidentally ripped a few buttons off his shirt. Making you practically grope his, smooth chest. The thief thoroughly distracted by what was unfolding before him didn’t notice the large pile of boxes of paint and drove headfirst into them. The loud clatter of the metal cans snapping you out of your panicked state just long enough to notice that Hoseok was running full speed towards a large metal gate. “Hoseok, Watch out!” you screamed too late because he was completely frozen, in his flustered state. Unable to react in time.
When Hoseok crashed, he literally dented the entire gate. Making it warp to the shape of his large body. You, on the other hand, flew to the skies. Landing on a bunch of old cardboard boxes, that somewhat softened the blow. “Damn you… I’ll stain my blade with your blood” Hoseok threatened, but when he reached to grab his sword, he found nothing. Hoseok glared harshly, when the thief stood before him, clutching his sword. The thief was completely covered in various colors of paint. “D-Damn you, horse boy… I’ll slice you apart!” He screamed in blind fury while raising the sword, ready to strike down at Hoseok. Without hesitation, you ran to stand in front of Hoseok, your small body shielding him from any harm. The sword sliced through your shirt as if it was wet paper. And this was how you died…
“Or so I thought, but I’m fine. It’s a fake sword, huh?” you told Namjoon over the phone. You sat securely on the couch, at home, wrapped up in bandages. Even though the sword was fake, the blunt hit of it had bruised you. It also hurt, a lot. “He can’t walk around with a real one. Trying to catch that thief was a crazy thing to do.” Namjoon scolded you. “It’s not like I wanted to do it. Hoseok wanted to chase after the scooter, so…” Namjoon interrupted you, sounding uncharacteristically concerned. “Scooter? You didn’t ride him, did you? One of the centaur commandments is, only the one chosen as your lifelong master may ride you.” A heavy feeling of dread suddenly settled on your shoulders while the severity of your actions became clear. “From his perspective, it’s a lot like marriage. If you forced him to let you ride him, then… That would be like rape. AH! My pasta!” Namjoon ended the call. Your entire body was shaking with regret and shame, you turned your head to find Hoseok standing by the doorway. With so much force you nearly tumbled over, you slammed your knees to the floor and bowed your head as far as it could go. 
“I’m sorry, Hoseok! I had no idea it was so important! I didn’t mean any harm… Hoseok?” not hearing a response you carefully lifted your head. He was sitting right in front of you, and internally you questioned how he walked so silently. You expected fury, anger. What you didn’t expect, was the soft look of devotion. “Instead of Hoseok, I want you to call me Hobi. That’s what my close friends call me.” Extremely confused as to what was currently happening, you tilted your head to the side. “I’m the one to blame. I got you caught up in that fight with my selfish sense of justice. On top of that, I hurt you...” Not wanting to burden him any further, you reassured “no, it’s not like I tried to refuse. You don’t need to be so considerate.” Hoseok abruptly took your hand in his and placed it over his heart. “Nonsense! Can’t you feel how my heart is pounding? I can sense my destiny! You really were impressive back there… I truly have met the one destined to be my master.” Hoseok’s blush deepened considerably while he elaborated “since I arrived in this country… No, Since I was born, that was the first time anyone’s sacrificed themselves to protect me.”
With a renewed determination, Hoseok looked deep into your eyes and declared “therefore, I, Hoseok Jung, acknowledge you as my master and swear lifelong loyalty to you. Master, will you accept my loyalty?” by now, a warm blush had found its way onto your own cheeks, you stared at the centaur in front of you with wide eyes, hardly believing what you were hearing. “H-Hobi...” A loud bang to your side alerted you that you were no longer alone. Jimin and Jungkook had entered the living room. Jimin looked utterly confused, while Jungkook looked more than offended “Princess, did you get another boyfriend?” Jimin mimicked the angry tone except his mind was not on Hoseok “master, I’m hungry!” Hoseok flushed at being caught during such a vulnerable moment. But steadily returned Jungkook’s glare “Princess? Who are these guys? This is improper, Master!” Jungkook instantly dismissed Hoseok’s presence the second he noticed the bandages covering your shoulder and upper torso. “Princess, how did you hurt yourself?” Jungkook’s voice was etched with concern.
Jimin ran up and tugged on your arm “is dinner ready?” he whined cutely. Not wanting to be in the middle of a fight, you hastily served them all some food. At the dinner table, Hoseok was the first to speak “listen up. Now that I’m here, things will be different. My master comes first.” His voice was stern, as he glared daggers at the two other males. Jungkook responded with annoyance “I always put my princess first.” which Jimin hastily agreed on. Meanwhile, you were sulking in the kitchen, mentally crying out for help with the housework.
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eliniei · 5 years
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Those Hard Days - Chapter 39
Summary: Rae’s brother always made sure she was tough as nails. But when her father flips her world upside down, will she find that there’s a limit on how strong she can be?
Warnings: Rape/Non-con (non-graphic, fade-to-black), child abuse, underage drinking, underage smoking, drug use, violence, major character death
A/N: I...I’m sorry about this.
AO3: here Fanfiction.net: here
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Chapter 39 - Shot
They weren’t the first at the lot, but Rae was the first of her outfit to show. The Shepard and Brumly boys integrated with each other, and she sat on the hood of an abandoned car as she waited. When the sun had gone down, a familiar face tackled her to the ground.
“Rae!” Carrie screamed, a huge, toothy smile on her face. Her blonde friend sat up and helped her up from the dirt. “Tim said he was gonna bring ya! I didn’t believe him, but here ya are!” She looked Carrie up and down, dressed similarly to herself, long hair pulled back. The other girl crushed her in a hug.
“Jesus, Carrie,” Rae groaned. “Have you been workin’ out or somethin’?”
“Oh, sorry,” she giggled and let go. “Tim’s been continuin’ the training Dally gave us. Guess I grew some muscle, huh?” They both took a seat back on the car, leaning into each other, whispering quietly between them. Tim joined them after a while. There was a rumble in the distance.
"Sounds like a storm," he observed and took a deep breath. “Smells like it, too.”
"They're here," one of the other boys called, and pointed to the line of boys approaching in the darkness. Rae couldn't help but smile as she slid off the hood. Tim left them to go greet the newly arrived Curtis outfit. She leaned down to Carrie’s ear.
“Do you know if Dally’ll be here?”
“I doubt it,” she answered, her voice low. “When we went to the hospital, he said he hated missin’ it, but he’s so volatile, right? Who knows.”
Rae watched as Sodapop pushed past his oldest brother and Tim, eyes shining in the light of the bonfire. He was the first one to notice she was there. When he confirmed it was, in fact, her, he hopped over the rubber tire sitting in the overgrown grass and latched on to her, almost as tightly as Carrie had. 
 "How’ve ya been, kiddo?" he asked as she wrapped her arms around his back. God, had she missed him. Missed them all.
"It’s been hell without you guys," she answered as he released her and held her at arm's length, looking her up and down.
“You’re so thin,” Steve interjected, walking up next to his best friend, followed by Two-Bit on Soda’s other side. “Are they not feedin’ you over there or somethin’?”
“We’ll talk about that later, okay?” 
“Is it okay that you’re here?” 
“Prob’ly not, Keith, but I’m here nonetheless.”
Before anything else could be said, she was lifted and enveloped by Darry Curtis and his large muscles. 
“It’s good to see ya, kid,” he whispered into her hair. “You’ve been sorely missed.” He dropped her back to the ground and looked down at her, sternly. “But you’d better be careful.”
"I know. But I had to be here for this. For Johnny." She took another look around. Ponyboy fidgeted beside his big brother at the sound of their injured friend’s name. “You okay, Pone? You look pale.”
He looked up from his sweatshirt zipper but, before he could answer, there were a series of loud horns blaring from down the street. The Socs were arriving. The greasers started forming up. Carrie came up next to her, cracking her knuckles. Rae looked at her and both nodded at each other. She heard Darry and Ponyboy mumbling further down.
"You stay close to me, kid," the oldest Curtis brother ordered the youngest. Lightning flashed in their eyes, followed by an earth-shaking growl of thunder. She looked up at the sky for a moment before focusing on what was happening ahead of her. 
Darry approached an older boy in a letterman jacket- the leader the Socs had brought with them. They exchanged some words, but all she could focus on was her brother’s voice filtering in from behind the greaser line.
"You know a rumble ain't a rumble without me!" Before she could turn her head and look at Dally, the first punch was thrown and the rain started to beat down on them. She watched as Ponyboy went down, hard as a rock, but as she went to help him, she was tackled by someone else. 
When she’d gotten back up and balanced, the rain was so thick, Rae could barely see two feet in front of her, but was able to clothesline a Soc coming right for her. He dropped into the mud  on his back and she kicked him in the face. 
 "Nice try," she smirked, watching the rain wash away the blood running from his nose. “How’s it feel to be beaten by a girl?” 
She was too slow, though, when she heard movement behind her. She was pushed off the kid under her by a hard punch to the cheek, and fell backwards. The wet earth seeped into her pants. 
"Slick, grease," the Soc said as he leaned down to pick her up by the shirt. He lifted her off the ground and his hand pulled back to punch her in the face, but someone else bulldozed him. She fell back into the mud. Rae turned her head to see her brother, but he hadn't noticed that he’d just saved her. 
“Dally!” she yelled for him, trying to get his attention. “Dally!” But, he didn’t hear. Between the rain and the yelling, he couldn’t hear her calling for him. She went to stand up and make her way over to him, but suddenly, a Soc ran past her. And another. She paused to watch them retreat.
"Well, that was fast," she mumbled and gingerly touched her cheekbone. She pulled her hand away when her face felt wet and wiped her muddy hands on her already soiled jeans. Someone behind her roughly grabbed her arm and pulled her after him. She looked up to see Steve.
"Time to get outta here before the fuzz get here," he said. Rae nodded. When they passed Tim, he nodded his understanding and she went to catch up with her gang, peering around the lot for her brother. He’d disappeared.
"Where’s Dally gone now?” she asked, frustrated. Two-Bit patted her on the back. 
"He’ll show his face sooner or later," he answered her. She sighed, but nodded.
"Hey, Pony's gone too," Darry said, looking around at each of them.
“I’m sure he’ll catch up. Maybe they went to tell Johnny the news,” Soda offered, and they all trudged their tired bodies back to the Curtis house. 
A few minutes later, Rae stood in front of the freezer, filling a dishrag full of ice. She twisted it off and pressed it to her face, then walked back into the living room. The boys were tending to their own injuries. Two-Bit turned on the television for some background noise, then sat on the floor, leaning against the wall.
"It makes you look different," Soda said to his best friend, who was running his tongue over his newly broken tooth. 
Things went quiet for a while, everyone mentally recovering. The boys started relaxing, settling in to watch some late-night TV. 
But not Rae. She couldn’t sit still. The uneasy, bad feeling that had been sitting in the pit of her stomach for a month was becoming overwhelming. She had constant chills running down her spine, and her stomach wouldn’t calm. She sat criss-cross on the floor, leaning against the coffee table, foot constantly tapping the wood under her. The bad feeling that had been slowly getting worse over the last month was at its peak.
"Ponyboy!" Soda exclaimed as the screen door creaked open. Rae sat up straight and turned to see him. He looked terrible. Bruises everywhere and a split lip. A trail of tears ran down his face amid the blood and dirt. 
But no Dally. 
“Pony?” Darry asked, standing from his armchair, sensing the wrongness in the air.
His next words made everyone in the room freeze.
"Johnny's dead.” He paused and swallowed. “I don't know, he just died. Told me to ‘stay gold.’” Another pause.
J-Johnny..? Her mouth dropped open. When...when had she seen him last? What...what had been the last thing she’d said to him? 
 “Dally's gone. He couldn't take it. He's gonna blow." The entire room went completely silent except for the TV in the background.
"We-we have to find him," Rae said, her voice shaky. She went to stand up, but the phone rang, loudly, and she jumped from the sound. Steve picked it up.
"Hello?" He waited for a few seconds. "No, it's Steve." Another pause. "Yeah, sure." He held the phone out to Darry, his eyes suddenly haunted. The older boy took the phone and held it up to his ear.
"Dally?" he asked. "We know." Rae could hear some muffled noise coming from the receiver. “Of course. We got R-” He hung up the phone with a sigh and turned to his friends. "That was Dally. He's in trouble. We gotta hide him.” He looked her square in the eyes, knowingly. “He hung up before I could tell him. He doesn’t know.”
“Where?”
“The park.”
Rae was the first one out the door, running ahead while the other boys were still pulling their shoes on. She took off down the street, closely followed by the rest of her gang. When they reached the park, they found Dally standing on top of the hill, cops surrounding him. There was a gun in his hand. And suddenly she knew why she’d had a bad feeling for so long.
 “You’re never gonna get me alive!” her brother taunted the cops, aiming a heater at them.
“It’s not loaded!” Ponyboy yelled. The others followed suit, but she slowed to a stop, a loud ringing overtaking her head.
"No…," she whispered to herself, watching him closely, willing him to turn his head. "Look at me. Please, look at me." But he didn't. And she knew he wouldn’t. He had no idea she was there. 
And then, the gunshots rang out.
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generouskoalaobject · 5 years
Text
A Bow (part 1)
This is for the 2018 Secret Santa Jikook fic exchange organised by @jikook-love: A story for @jiminslattae who gave a lovely prompt that had me go sparkly eyed and actually daring to try this! Thank you! I hope you enjoy and have lovely holidays! (I’m not finished yet because life’s priorities but I solemnly swear that more will come! >0<)
Thinking back, they had gotten off to a bad start already.
When entering college, Jungkook had made friends with Taehyung, who in turn had introduced him to his four best friends, “and Yoongi”.  They had welcomed him with open arms, Jin greeting him with the words “Have you eaten yet?” and subsequently pushing a chicken drumstick into his hand (instant friendship). He had gotten off to a good start with all of them.
Except with Jimin.
Taehyung had walked Jungkook into the kitchen to get him a drink after introducing him to Jin, Namjoon and Hoseok. There he had met Yoongi and Jimin, quickly introducing himself and then helping himself to a beer with lime (because anything else just tasted yucky, if you asked him). Yoongi had just raised his glass of what was probably whiskey in a greeting. Jimin, meanwhile, stared at Jungkook in delighted fascination, a far too full glass of wine in his hands. Watching Jungkook grabbing his lime beer, Jimin cooed. Cooed. As if he was a baby. Jungkook was appalled. The worst thing was, when Jimin realised how much Jungkook despised his cooing, he started to go out of his way to do it any chance he got that evening and every time they met after that. And he only doubled his efforts when Jungkook asked him to stop.
But he had been ready to give Jimin a chance for the sake of Taehyung, when his friend had asked him to get together with everyone and have a fun evening.
“I promise, it will be fun. We’ll play some board games, watch a movie, eat pizza. You’ll get along just fine.”
They hadn’t. But only because Jimin was an asshole (if you asked Jungkook) and Jungkook was a really sore loser (if you asked everybody else). Once Jimin noticed Jungkook’s competitive streak, it only went downhill, Jimin deriving a sick pleasure out of making it as hard as possible for Jungkook to win at any of the games, leaving Jungkook ready to leave the party early if his plan to kill Jimin by pouring an absurd amount of tabasco all over his pizza was to fail. It failed. He had been carrying a deep grudge towards the other boy ever since. The most aggravating thing was that Jimin did not seem to care much that Jungkook had taken a dislike in him. And so, the both of them antagonising each other every chance they got became part of their routine, both of them only toning it down a bit when the group asked them to, which really just meant that they tried to be less obvious when their friends were around. Jungkook’s grudge certainly didn’t grow less because of it.
--------
Over the months Jungkook’s murder plans had only gotten more intricate, as had Jimin’s taunts. Still, Jungkook did not want to miss a chance to hang out with his friends, “and Jimin”, when Namjoon invited him over to his parent’s house. And so he found himself playing a drunk game of truth or dare in the living room of Namjoon’s parents’ house with the six other boys.
“Truth.” Namjoon chose.
“What would you do if you were a girl for a day?“
“Touch myself.” Namjoon said deadpan, making Hoseok immediately burst out in a fit of laughter and Yoongi groan in exasperation.
Namjoon just shrugged “Duh. Don’t tell me you were expecting something noble like ‘revolutionise periods’. Maybe I’d attempt that if I got a second day.”
“Got it, first day masturbation, second day bloody business.” Jin giggled, earning him a deathly stare from Yoongi, leading Jimin to burst out in giggles, triggering Jin to do the same, inciting the whole group to join them. Except Yoongi who just continued to sip his whiskey while judging them.
“Let’s go with a dare.” Jin decided next. Jimin’s eyes lit up and he quickly leaned over and whispered an idea into Taehyung’s ear, Jin immediately growing nervous. Taehyung’s snorted, nodding.
“Go to the bathroom, take off your underwear and put it on your head and wear it on your head for the rest of the game.” Jimin announced, earning him a stinky eye from Jin. Jin returned with a pair of boxers with an alpaca print on his head from the bathroom a few moments later, shaking an angry crooked finger at Jimin.
“Just wait until it’s your turn, Park Jimin.”, he threatened while his boxers swished around angrily, making it really hard to take him serious.
“Truth.” Yoongi said.
Jimin immediately burst out with a gleeful glint in his eyes. “Have you ever made out with someone here?“ he asked, earning him exasperated groans from all the boys, Jin’s underwear angrily flopping above his head.
“Yes.” Yoongi calmly answered, shooting Jimin a deigning look, turning the groans into surprised gasps and a confused squabble of “Who?” “When?” “Was there tongue?” “Ew, we don’t want to know that, Namjoon.” and underwear now flopping excitedly from left to right. But Yoongi simply shrugged and huffed “You only get one question, genies. Next.” A disappointed huff could be heard but they moved on.
“I can’t choose truth. You all have way too much shit on me.” Jimin mused with an embarrassed grin on his face. “So dare.”
“Interesting.” Jin enunciated, clicking his fingers together in an imitation of an evil mastermind, the impression being completely destroyed by the underwear still on his head.
“Namjoon, don’t you have a little sister?” Jimin’s nervousness immediately increased visibly.
“Yes, hyung.”, Namjoon obediently answered, playing along innocently.
“I really like her fashion sense.”
Jimin immediately began pleading “Hyung, noooo. Don’t!” trying to claw at Jin, who was expertly ignoring him. Namjoon innocently hummed in agreement.
Jin thought aloud, theatrically tapping his chin, “You know how much Jimin is into fashion. I think he would love to try out a crop top.”
“No hyung, don’t make me wear women’s clothes.”
“In fact, I heard him say in his sleep the other night that he would also like to wear one of her chokers.”
“Noooo.”
“And lipstick.”  
Jimin started screaming.
“What a coincidence, hyung. All of these items are in my sister’s possession.” Namjoon mused in fake wonder.
Moments later Jimin stepped out of Namjoon’s sister’s room, his previous glee now replaced by embarrassment, a very tight fitting crop top that was revealing surprisingly defined abs and light red lipstick on his lips. Jungkook would have lied if he denied making a double take, yet annoyance quickly took over, because somehow, even in this outfit that was supposed to be degrading, Jimin managed to look good, the choker giving him an androgynous air that caused several surprised shouts of “whoop” in the group. Jimin sat down again with a pout on his face and Jungkook quickly averted his eyes when Jimin caught him looking, breathing out in relief when Jimin did not take the chance to taunt him this time. Next was Hoseok who was already bouncing with excitement.
“I’m so nervous.”, Hobi squealed. “Shall I pick truth? Or a dare? Aaah.”
“How about truth, hyung?” Jimin suggested lazily. Hoseok stared at him and turned visibly white, shouting “dare” without breaking eye contact, making Jimin chuckle.
“Put you arm in the pile of leaves that Namjoon’s parents have been collecting this autumn and leave it there for 2 minutes. To the elbow.” Jungkook suggested.
Hobi began screaming as if he was outside already. “I hate you, Jeon Jungkook!”
When they had convinced Hoseok that he did not need to take a shower after coming back inside because there really was no spider crawling over him, it was Taehyung’s turn.
“I choose dare.” He said calmly.
Jungkook grinned, quickly shooting out, “Let us look through your phone for two minutes.”
He had always wondered how many pictures of his nostrils Taehyung had.
Taehyung’s eyes widened in panic. “I-I don’t have my phone with me.”
“I saw you using it three minutes ago.” Jimin piped in.
“That wasn’t mine.”
But Jungkook had already lunged at Taehyung and wrestled his phone from his back pocket. Using Taehyung’s thumb to unlock the phone, the six other boys pooled around his phone in interest, while Taehyung covered his face in his hands, lying down as if he had already received his death sentence.
Yoongi checked the time while Jungkook quickly opened Taehyung’s gallery. The first folder he saw was named “cute dogs”. Not interested, although “435 pictures of dogs you find cute?!”. “Family”, “If I were a rich man” (879 pictures of Gucci items), “uni bros <3” (“Only 120 pictures of us, but nearly 1000 of Gucci items, do you even love us.” Jimin scolded.) and then the folder Jungkook had hoped for: “The closest view of my brain I can get”, 327 pictures.
Jungkook clicked on it, cackling when he was greeted by a bunch of nostril selfies, with varying degrees of focus, sometimes clearly showing some nose hair, sometimes focusing on pores, sometimes only showing Taehyung’s eyes sharply. A giggle went through the group.
“Even your nostrils get more space on your phone than us, really?!” Jimin complained.
Namjoon was shaking his head, “I would really like to take a look at your brain, too, bro, but not like this.”
“This wouldn’t have happened if you had gone with my Secret Santa suggestion of paying for an MRT scan of his brain last year.” Jin sniffed. Jungkook selected several of the nostril pictures and sent them to his phone. Then he finally exited the folder and continued scrolling down, stopping at a folder simply called “<3”. He had just clicked on it, when Yoongi grabbed the phone out of his hands with surprising speed, locking it again.
“Time’s up.”
Jungkook could have sworn the first object in that folder was a gif of Yoongi himself using a filter, but Yoongi had been too quick to grab the phone to see more. Jungkook watched carefully and confused while Yoongi returned the phone to Taehyung, who seemed a bit less lifeless now that his phone had returned. They returned to their places seats and Jungkook quickly forgot about the folder again when Yoongi pointed at him.
“It’s your turn now, kiddo.”
„Dare!“ he shouted excitedly. To his surprise, Yoongi jumped up and with a determined energy quickly walked over to Taehyung, who had been on the verge of saying something.
Taehyung and Hoseok snickered upon hearing Yoongi’s suggestion, Jungkook half dreading and half anticipating the dare they were going to give him. He certainly didn’t want anyone to know that he was wearing Iron Man underwear today. And he certainly did not want to know how great his potential as a cross-dresser would be.
“Kiss Jimin for five minutes.” Yoongi announced. Jungkook felt his stomach drop.
“Excuse me, haven’t I been violated enough already?” Jimin remarked.
“Not with how you have been playing tonight, Jimin, let’s be honest.”, Namjoon shrugged.
“Will you do it, Jungkook?” Yoongi calmly asked, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Or will you face the dire consequences if you don’t?”
Jungkook swallowed. “Of course I’ll do it.” Except he felt like now would be a good time for the ground to open up. Still, he got up and walked over to Jimin, his eyes darting towards the wall décor that suddenly seemed like the most interesting thing in the room. He came to stand in front of Jimin, feeling his pulse beat in his throat.
“You too chicken to kiss a guy, Jeon?“ Jimin teased, pursing his light red lips.
„No…“. He was. His voice was shaking slightly with nerves. He wished it wouldn’t, it wasn’t a big deal, right? Before Jimin could sneer, he took a breath of courage and surged forward, taking Jimin’s face in his hands and planting his lips on Jimin’s. Yet a spike of nerves immediately made him recoil back when their lips touched, his eyes scanning Jimin’s face, still holding it, who was looking at him slightly flabbergasted, with his cheeks squished together and his lips consequently pouting a bit, reminding Jungkook of a bird emoji on this phone.
“I said 5 minutes, guys. Keep going.” Yoongi clapped shooing away imaginary birds.
“And we wanna see tongue.” Namjoon intercepted, causing Hobi to shake his head. “We really don’t, Namjoon”.
Jungkook really did not know how to go about this. Should he kiss him normally? Should he try to make this as bad as possible? But he didn’t need Jimin teasing him about his kissing skills for the rest of university. Pressing his lips together he decided to ignore his nerves for the next five minutes and how aware he was that Jimin’s stomach was not covered by anything and just do it.
Jimin chose exactly this moment to speak. “See? Chicken.” pulling his face into a grimace.
“Shut up.” Jungkook countered, surging forward again, seeing Jimin’s eyes widening in surprise for a second, before he closed his own eyes in an attempt to not let his nerves get the best of him, his lips meeting Jimin’s again and staying there this time. Jungkook would not have expected a guy’s lips to feel as soft. He heard Jimin draw in a surprised breath when he started moving his lips against Jimin’s. But after a moment he began reciprocating the kiss. This wasn’t as bad as expected, Jungkook thought, he could survive this. If it wasn’t for his hyungs watching them. They seemed to lose interest soon though, conversation picking up again, bags of crisps being opened, so he relaxed a bit. Jimin’s hands came to settle at his waist, making Jungkook’s stomach tingle in a weird way. And then he felt Jimin’s tongue moving against his upper lip and Jungkook’s heart rate spiked, causing him to pull back slightly but Jimin’s lips followed him, being on his again in seconds. Jungkook’s face was starting to feel hot and he felt very aware of every place Jimin was touching him. The urge to push Jimin away and to nip at his lower lip filled Jungkook at the same time. Confused, his hands came to rest on Jimin’s shoulders instead. Another wave of that weird tingly feeling surged through Jungkook when Jimin’s thumbs started rubbing circles into his sides, but at the same time he felt himself relax a bit more, drawing in a  deep breath as he felt his nervousness slowly dissipate. As if on their own free will, one of his hands wandered along Jimin’s neck towards his ear. Jungkook swore he heard a slight squeak from Jimin. Interesting. Curious then, he decided to give in to his urge and nipped at Jimin’s lower lip. A sharp intake of breath and Jimin pulled away at the same time that Yoongi announced that the five minutes were over and something about proving his point. Jungkook looked at Jimin, whose eyes widened slightly, his face looking just as flushed as Jungkook’s felt. The red lipstick had spread around Jimin’s lips and before Jungkook could register anything else, Jimin’s hands left his hips and Jimin pulled back, his hand coming up to swipe at his lips.
“You look like the Joker.” He mumbled towards Jungkook, before turning away to find a mirror. Jungkook wiped his lips as well, a light red stain coming off on his hand.
“Here, let me help you with that.” Hobi came up to him and handed him a wet tissue, helping him clean the bits he missed. “Are you ok?” he asked lowly so none of the others could hear.
“Sure.” Jungkook answered automatically. Why wouldn’t he be? He shrugged and sat down again after throwing away the tissue. He saw Jimin returning from the bathroom, any sight of the lipstick gone from his face now. Jungkook quickly averted his eyes, biting his lips while he grabbed himself a bag of crisps. For the rest of the night he told himself that the tingle in his lips came from the wet tissue.
-------
(to be continued because I’m a bad Santa lol)
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beestung2025-blog · 6 years
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Throw Me Down
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‘That bitch,’ Tom Riddle seethed, seated at his desk in the private Slytherin Head Boy dormitory. And to his misfortune, as the Head Girl wasn’t Slytherin, the newest ‘guest’ of Slytherin House was put in the private room that should have been empty. He was supposed to have the entire dorm floor to himself.
But no, the frizzy haired know-it-all refugee from the continent made the pampered pureblood princesses feel unsafe after her first night waking up screaming from nightmares, wand drawn to fight some imagined adversary. Tom knew was shell shock was, and that the girl was clearly suffering from some form of it. Several of the smaller children at Wool’s Orphanage, where he had lived since infancy, developed it after the firebombing in London. That was another sore spot for Tom, the lack of help and assistance from anyone in the Wizarding World when London nearly fell to the Krauts, and the city mostly destroyed by bombing. No, Tom couldn’t possibly be allowed to stay safe in the Highlands of Scotland, supplied with nutritious foods that simply weren’t available on the muggle rations. Albus fucking Dumbledore ensured Tom Marvolo Riddle would rot at that damn orphanage.
Tom continued playing with his quill, the leather bound journal that his Grandmother Riddle had gave him when he was accepted to Hogwarts open on his desk. Not that anyone knew of the arrangement his paternal grandmother had with Wool’s Orphanage. Mary Riddle had found Tom’s mother Merope purely by chance while volunteering with one of the London Hospitals, and when Merope died from internal hemorrhaging, Mary arranged for Tom to be sent to Wool’s Orphanage. Despite her pleas, her husband and son refused to even see the abomination, as they called the infant Tom and his mother. After that point, Mary Riddle concealed from the her family what she did in London. They thought her to still be volunteering at the hospital, when in reality she spent her two days a week, Wednesdays and Sundays caring for Tom as a baby, tutoring the boy as he grew up, and taking him to church every Sunday. She wasn’t a particularly warm woman, Mary Riddle, but she had a sense of duty and liked her strange and quiet grandson that looked just like his father, despite the air of strangeness that obviously came from Merope’s family. When young Tom informed her of his acceptance to Hogwarts, Mary returned the next visit with the leather bound journal stamped with his name in gold leaf. It was one of the few times she showed true tenderness with him, finally understanding why he had been such a strange child with disturbing reports from the matron of the orphanage. Mary Riddle had tucked some money into the journal, an agreement between her and her husband. She could no longer see the child, but she could give him money for his education. It was the last time Tom has seen his grandmother until he killed the Riddles the previous summer.
Tom leaned back in his chair, hand ruffling his perfectly coiffed hair. The hum of the journal below and the ring on his finger calmed him, being together with the blackest magic he used to fly from death, his horcruxes. He had the idea of Vol-de-mort during the London Blitz, imagining that if he could only find the right magic, he could just fly from the death that rained from the skies the entire winter holiday he was forced to be away from Hogwarts and in the heart of the firebombing while they reinforced the warding of the school. He turned 14 that winter, and in less than 2 years, he’d found the magic he needed to protect himself from the senseless, gory, and violent deaths the muggles were so fond of inflicting on each other. Magic was much more elegant as a solution. He slightly conflicted about having killed his Grandmother Riddle, when his stupid muggle father bragged how she’d been the one to ensure he had any money at all as if it were up to him, Tom Riddle Sr, he would have ignored the abomination. However, Tom had no idea how to perform necromancy and couldn’t raise her. He was displeased she felt that money was more important than having family, or what it would be like for him when she simply stopped coming, and how the other orphans bullied him for it. Tom continued on with his mission, using the ring he’d stolen from his insane maternal uncle to create his second horcrux from the murder of his father and using his cooling corpse for the ritual.
But that girl! Tom pulled at his hair before growling in frustration. He had no idea why she enjoyed having odd philosophical conversations that inevitably would leave him lingering over the old, scarred memories of his past. It’s like the bitch was a Legilimens, prying his secrets out of his head-- except Tom knew that his occlumency walls protecting his mind had not been breached. Strange, strange bitch. He wanted her gone, back to whatever European pissant country she crawled out of with her near perfect OWL scores and getting Slughorn to agree to sponsor her refugee status! Everywhere he turned, she was there. With her nervous brown eyes that seems to move too quickly and never retain eye contact, she was constantly taking the opposite stance of whatever he said, be it in class or in the Slytherin Common room. Their own little sitting area at the landing where the doors to their private dormitories was the only place she even gave the hint of being vulnerable, as they both knew she was at night. Hermione Granger had woken up the whole of Slytherin House her first night and cursed two of her dormmates that tried to wake her.
So now the bitch was encroaching on his hard earned solitude. He did have the private Head Boy suite, for which he was grateful. He hated sharing, especially with the cruel boys at the orphanage that never let go of the fact he had a family that didn’t want him. The bigoted pureblood boys at Hogwarts were so easy to bend to his will with magic, but he still had to share until this year. Well, until this bint came along. At least he set one thing straight when he had been forced to escort her and her things to the empty Head Girl Suite, next to his own: Silencing charms were to be used at all times.
“It will be safer for everyone” Slughorn told him greasily, trying to explain to Tom the necessity. “You can stop her from accidentally hurting someone-- you understand what this … uh.. Condition… is that she has”
“You mean shell shock, Professor? It is well documented in the muggle world. I’m surprised wizards haven’t caught on to the effects of trauma on the brain, be it magical or muggle.” Tom sniffed, trying not to sneer at the stupidity. Of course it was bloody shell shock; she claimed her family was killed and she had been fleeing the fighting for months. Given the state she was in, it was clear she suffered from battle trauma and had been malnourished for months. Granted a few potions from the matron in the hospital wing and the girl was back to whatever was her normal health.
Hermione Granger was skinny, but had a decent shape when she ditched the black school robes over the rest of her uniform. Smallish breasts, wide hips… Tom rather liked her hips, but it was her ass that was divine. She either had no propriety or was very loose with how often she simply bent over, displaying that divine ass, to the entirety of the male population. There were already several betting pools as to her sexual experience, and when/who will get the chance to fool around with her first. Tom had observed this again during their last heated exchange in front of their suites. Hermione fucking Granger was doggedly prattling on about creature rights and witches’ rights and well, to be honest Tom stopped listening, enjoying the rosy color on her cheeks from her passionate discourse, and the magic that gathered and sparked in her unmanageable hair. Even her golden skin seem to glow with her angered magic as she realized Tom wasn’t listening.
“You bloody prat! You just don’t care about other living souls do you? How much of a soul do you even have?” Hermione hissed angrily, wrenching open her door and slamming it shut behind her. It seemed that simply letting her go on with her chatter tuning her out and evaluating her body was the way to irritate her the quickest. He’d never met a girl who was so uncomfortable with flirting or her own prowess. She was a very powerful witch, he could feel it when they spared in Defense Against the Dark Arts (again, because it was ‘safest’ as he was the top of the year and in all the classes. No longer did he get to duel the teacher, now he dueled the refugee to supposedly keep her in check, but the witch had more control than anyone gave her credit for and actively held back on her spells. It was frustrating because he couldn’t understand why or why he even cared.)
That comment about souls though… that is what sent him into his room for the peace and solitude with his horcruxes. No one knows about them. How could they? The only witnesses are dead.
Tom’s head snapped up-- was that a noise? That frustrating bint better not have forgotten the silencing spells he demanded she use every night. He felt it was silly for refusing Dreamless Sleep due to the addictiveness, but forgetting the silencing spells after refusing Dreamless Sleep was against his rules. Nobody was ever quite the same after crossing him, Tom smirked.
There it was again, the noise. But it was still quiet-- not in the way that it sounds when silencing spells start to fail however. It wasn’t muffled screaming..
‘Was that a moan?’ Tom thought wildly, smirking to himself. He was quite familiar with those types of sighs and moans, though the girls he used never remembered it afterwards. Tom got up from his desk, moving to the otherside that was flush with the wall, pressing his ear to the wall, wondering who would be winning the betting pools. He ran the pools with a Hufflepuff as a catspaw, so he’d be getting galleons no matter who won. Tom did find it amusing that he himself had the best odds by a long shot for getting into her knickers. A breathy moan caught his attention again and he focused on trying to figure out who was in there and how the hell she could have gotten someone in past him. Her quick, rapid breaths sounded so close; Tom had to wonder where the Head Girl’s suite might share a wall with his own.
“Ohhhh… gods…” Hermione’s voice groaned before letting out a high pitched whine, punctuated with her breaths. Tom couldn’t help it, feeling himself getting hard with her performance and imagining her ass in front of him. He adjusted his trousers and pressed closer to the wall.
“Oh oh please.. oh pleasee” She repeated her mantra like her life depended on it, the begging turning Tom on further. He always felt magnificent when someone begged him, but he never considered having a girl beg him in bed. Normally Tom just hit them with a silencio and got to his business. He didn’t want to deal with the clinging and petting he saw other students getting up to; like he’d let anyone touch his body as if they owned it. He could see in the minds of the pathetic girls how much they wanted him, to show him off like a status symbol to their friends, to have Head Boy Tom Riddle, Brightest Wizard of the Century, in their bed, regardless of boyfriends or betrothals. It disgusted him.
“Fuck… I… fuck!” Hermione’s voice screamed, surprising Tom out of his reverie. Like the flip of a switch, he was annoyed. The bint never put up silencing charms and was clearly a hussy who couldn’t keep her legs closed. The second thought annoying Tom for how much it irritated him. He shoved off from the wall and angrily stalked out of his suite and slammed his fist on the door, announcing “Head Boy” before using the spell he was given in case Hermione was having an episode and Tom needed to get into her suite. There were panicked rummaging sounds from the bedroom that Tom strode towards, an ugly sneer maring his beautiful face. He wrenched the door open, to find a very naked Hermione struggling to put on a robe she’d gotten tangled in her hurry.
“RIDDLE!” Hermione shrieked, attempting to cover herself and turning around not realizing it was her bare ass that now screamed for his attention. Apparently she’d been pleasuring herself, a thought which fuzzily beat itself around his head as he stared at her ass, struggling to refocus and marshal himself.
“WOULD YOU STOP LOOKING YOU CREEP!” Hermione screamed at him, finally getting the robe untangled and covering herself. Tom merely smirked and leaned against the door frame, as if he simply belonged there in her room.
“What are you even doing in here, how did you even get it? You didn’t even give me the chance to properly get the door!” Hermione glared at him, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at him. Tom remained smirking, enjoying the irritation that made her flushed, post orgasmic skin glow the brighter.
“Well? Are you going to answer me you pervert?” Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise when Tom moved quicker than she thought possible, grabbing her hair and exposing her throat, his wand digging into her neck.
“Wh-wh-what are you doing, Riddle?” She asked fearfully, her anger slipping away as terror filled her. She stupidly assumed she’d be safe at Hogwarts until she could support herself and disappear into the past. She just needed her NEWTs and the Ministry insisted she take the 7th year at Hogwarts when she came claiming refugee status from Italy. In reality, she’d performed a highly illegal ritual with the sand from a time turner, unable to live in a world in which both sides lost and leaving her utterly alone. Some forged paperwork, and there she was, ward of Professor Slughorn and sorted into Slytherin. Somehow, for some reason she wasn’t quite sure of, Tom Riddle aka Voldemort was threatening her while she was unarmed and practically naked. Yet as she stared up into his fathomless dark eyes, her pulse quickened and she could feel the tell tale ache within her that something about this turned her on. The most surprising part was she wasn’t alone, somehow incredibly he was aroused. How the hell? Hermione knew she was nothing much to look at; she’d heard all of her life how undesirable she was. Her terror became tinged with lust, a heady combination the Head Boy induced in her. Then as suddenly as he’d caught her to threaten her, his fist tightened as he smirked. Tom stowed his want in his pocket, never letting go of her hair in his other hand, gently tracing the lines of her neck.
“Miss Granger, what a slut you are.” Tom answered her smoothly, bending his head down to breathe in the scent of her hair. Hermione jerked but couldn’t free herself.
“I am no such thing . This is my room. Get out.” Hermione tried to respond coldly, but Riddle was distracting her with his overwhelming presence and hands on her and how much her old friends would hate her for her weakness. Her weakness in which she had to relieve some of the stress and she couldn’t help it when her thoughts turned to him as she came. She felt like a filthy traitor to them, but he didn’t need to know that.
“You forgot your silencing charms, Miss Granger. It is my duty to ensure no harm comes to you. You know Slughorn asked me to, it was when we first met.” Tom looked at her, taking in the heat that was creeping into her eyes, mixing delightfully with the terror he induced. Was she… did she like this? Did girls enjoy this?
Hermione gulped audibly, knowing what a fuss he’d made about her using silencing charms if she wouldn’t take the Dreamless Sleep potion. Tom traced the movement on her throat.
“Tell me, Hermione… does this excite you?” Tom purred in her ear, enjoying the electric feeling of her emotional magic escaping through her hair against his cheek.
“This is just entirely inappropriate Riddle. You need to leave. I am sorry about forgetting my charms. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Hermione closed her eyes and wished she felt anything but the odd sensation of lust and fear and excitement.
“I don’t think I will.” Tom smirked, flicking up a silencing charm before stowing his wand again and resuming his tracing of her neck and beautiful clavicle. What lovely bones she has .
“This is wrong, Riddle. You don’t even like me.” Hermione tried stepping away only to find her hair yanking her back to where she was, forcing her neck back even further. Tears stung her eyes.
“S-stop, Riddle. You’re hurting me.” Hermione whispered, defeated.
“I could stop. And I could leave. But I don’t think I will, because you like this Miss Granger. I can feel your pulse quicken. Your breath hitches every time I do this,” Tom deftly slid his hand over her throat and her breath did indeed catch. “I can see the lust in your eyes, and the begging-- Tell me, Miss Granger, do you like to beg?”
“No! I don’t! And you need to leave!” Hermione’s voice quavered.
“I heard you begging before. Who were you begging?” Tom’s normal tenor took on a darker, deeper pitch as he pressed himself into the soft witch, chuckling at her jump of surprise as his now terribly hard cock was jutting into her hip. Oh those lovely hips.
“N-no one. There was no one.” Hermione admitted in a small voice, in utter shock at Tom’s behavior. The school was rife with rumors and all of them eventually ended with Tom preferred to focus on his studies to provide for his future wife, as the girls told it at least. Sweet Orphan Tom Riddle wanted to do his best so he could have his own family some day. Hermione nearly gagged when she was told, knowing what the Dark Lord he would turn into. How could she have been so blind? Teenage Tom Riddle was like any boy with hormones. It just wasn’t fair with how tall and handsome he was, the way he instinctively knew how to turn her on in ways she didn’t even know yet.
“Pleasuring yourself then? How wanton, little slut. I do say I prefer it over… other options.” Tom continued what had to have been the most surreal conversation of her life. Her naked body was only separated from Tom Riddle by her thin robe, with his hand gripping her hair, her head bent back to an almost painful position, and his body pressed into her while he gently touched her with those elegant long fingers of his. Her core clenched when she thought of what else he could do to her with those fingers. Tom didn’t miss the flash of her eyes though.
“Yes, I would say you prefer it as well. But why beg when there’s no one listening? Did you forget your silencing spell on purpose? Beg me to help you?” Tom grinned to himself as he finally let his hand slide lower, tracing her lovely defined collar bone to the edge of her robe, where he played dipping one long finger under the collar.
“No! I would never! I didn’t mean to forget!” Hermione struggled again, succeeding in grinding Tom’s erection into her hip and Tom’s hand gripping her robe before slipping inside and around her back pulling her closer to him. His bare hand was on her and she felt like she was on fire; she couldn’t help but squirming. She stopped suddenly when Tom groaned into her hair, his dick seemed impossibly harder and bigger and he’s grabbed her hip with a bruising force.
“Who were you begging, Hermione? I won’t ask again.” Tom growled, his voice gravely with his own arousal.
“It wasn’t supposed to be you.” Hermione answered timidly, closing her eyes and feeling the rush of a hot blush flow through her.
“Not supposed to be me?” Tom asked, amused and enjoying the extensiveness of her blush. He needed to get the robe off of her. He wanted all of her right now.
“I just… it’s what I do to calm down. The PTSD--” Hermione stopped, embarrassed.
“PTSD?” Tom asked, prodding her story along.
“I mean shell shock. Everything’s so stressful. I just wanted to not be stressed for a moment.” Hermione admitted, thoroughly embarrassed.
“I understand some of the ramifications of shell shock, Hermione.” Tom eased his grip on her hip and began rubbing small circles with his thumb. “Other children at the Orphanage have it, from the Blitz. I am very aware of how it can manifest differently.”
“I-- I had no idea you were still there during the bombing, didn’t they evacuate?” Hermione’s gaze met Tom’s, her natural state of logic and how the world should work coloring her words, her embarrassment at her current predicament melting away for a short moment. ‘She should have been a Gryffindor,’ Tom thought.
“No. They did not evacuate. If you need assistance, Hermione…” Tom used his Head Boy voice, the warmth of which was at complete odds with his tight grip in her hair and possessive arm threaded through her robe onto her bare skin that was flushed and inviting under his touch.
“I--No! This is wrong.” Hermione maintained, being still and slamming her eyes shut as she couldn’t turn away. She couldn’t bear to look at his playful smirk or think about how very long it had been since she last enjoyed the pleasures of someone else in her bed.
“Is it? You do know, Hermione, that I know you hold back when casting. You could have easily changed this to a duel. Instead you play the frightened rabbit for me. More’s the pity, I like your fire, witch.” Tom let go of Hermione abruptly, making her stagger a bit.
“Frightened rabbit, Riddle? I don’t even have my wand on me and you know it.” Hermione’s shock turned quickly into righteous anger. She held out a hand to summon it, but Tom beat her to it and accio’d it right off of her nightstand.
“Little rabbit, you don’t need your wand. You should be more careful of who observes you when you think you’re alone” Tom smirked, twirling her wand in his fingers before pocketing it with his own wand. Hermione fumed and her entire person seemed to vibrate with unspent magic.
“Would you like me to help you calm you down now? I can think of a few ways…” Tom grinned before ducking as Hermione sent a knock-back jinx at him.
“So she finally uses her fangs. Good, you’re not entirely useless.” Tom rolled his eyes and stepped towards her again.
“Why, you--” Hermione shrieked before unleashing a torrent of jinxes and curses, some light, some grey and a few that surprised Tom with how dark they were. Clearly her anger was fueling her magic allowing it to flow as easily as if she had her wand. Tom nearly groaned at his mistake. Now he actually had to calm her down before she went on some rampage through the Slytherin dungeons.
“Miss Granger--” Tom began as he drew his wand to defend himself.
“Evil, Stupid, Misogynistic BASTARD!” Hermione yelled as she conjured her signature canaries before having them attack. Tom slashed his wand in the air casting a Finite.
“HERMIONE.” Tom thundered, a black expression coming over his face and terror rooting Hermione in her spot, the power and dominance he was displaying most inconveniently making him look even more handsome with the angelic face, like perhaps Zeus would have looked like in human form. No wonder how he tricked all those maidens.
“I appreciate that you know how to fight back. That was the intent of my comment. You are not useless and you know it, or I wouldn’t be monitoring your shell shock for Slughorn.” Tom ran a hand through his hair, the neat curls in disarray from their duel. Hermione merely narrowed her eyes and pulled her robe closer around her. What was she to say? She had nothing, so she just turned her back to him wishing he would leave. She just couldn’t bear to fight any longer. She’d lost everything, she just wanted a shred of normalcy for a change. But why was she fighting a fight that hadn’t started and she wasn’t going to be a part of again. She wasn’t going to lose everyone again, to Dumbledore or to Voldemort. But this boy? He was just Tom Riddle, she realized.
“I’m sorry for my behavior earlier; I was clearly mistaken.” Tom said, slightly unsure what to do with a silent witch that wasn’t under a spell. Crying he could deal with, but he was rather unnerved by her silence. Hermione cleared her throat and turned back around, robe wide open. Tom’s jaw dropped.
“You were, but I think I’ll take you up on your offer. To calm me down.” Hermione smirked as she put her hands on her hips. Future Dark Lord or not, he was still a teenage boy with hormones. She could have this. She could give herself this. Hermione nearly laughed at how much she’d throw him off, as he gulped audibly.
“Miss Granger, you really should rest. Don’t want to do anything you might regret in the morning.” Tom nodded to her and turned for the door when a light stinging hex caught his shoulder and he growled, rounding on Hermione.
“What was that for?” He ground out, trying to resist the urge to shake the insane witch.
“Oh that was for rescinding your offer. I didn’t appreciate it.” Hermione sniffed dramatically, folding her arms across her still open robe, drawing Tom’s eye no matter how much he was trying not to stare openly at her. Unlike any girl or woman he’d had thus far, Hermione shaved . And it was clear she was turned on by their little interaction. Tom needed a moment to process the information he was trying to absorb but Hermione closed the distance between them. She walked up to him and took him by his green and silver tie, tugging on it gently, and leading him towards her bed.
“I know about the betting pool, you know. I actually influenced some of the odds.” Hermione said conversationally while she undid Tom’s tie as he stared rather bewildered at her and unsure if he took advantage of the situation, it would ruin his relationship with Slughorn-- whom he needed for his connections.
“Did you?” Tom asked meekly, still evaluating the situation.
“Oh yes, I don’t just take anyone to bed.” Hermione smirked as she tugged his tie off and started on his shirt, little silver snake cufflinks holding the french cuffs together.
“So you’re saying I’m special then?” Tom smirked and felt more in his element, repeating a line he gave out when he was looking for an attractive body to settle his needs. He brought his hands to her shoulders, rubbing circles on her collarbone with his thumbs, easing the rest of his hands under her robe.
“Special enough. We haven’t gotten to the main event-- then you’ll need to impress me.” Hermione winked as she placed the cufflinks on her side table and worked on his front placket.
“Are you challenging me, Granger?”
“Absolutely Tom. Though you won’t earn any points calling me ‘Granger’ during sex.” Hermione laughed, and he couldn’t help himself and chuckled as well.
“I see your point, Hermione.” Tom smiled one of his signature flirting smiles that never failed to bring a girl to her knees… except this one.
“Wipe that smirk off your face, Riddle.” Hermione glared, in mock anger.
“Oh? But I thought you wanted this?” Tom withdrew his hands to Hermione’s protests. There was a bit of a knot in her shoulder and he had been doing a great job easing it out. Hermione, hands still on his shirt ripped as hard as she could and with a nonverbal ‘Diffindo’ for good luck, she tore his shirt open, buttons flying.
“Don’t underestimate me Tom.” Hermione said, eyes narrowed.
“Never said I was.” Tom returned, eyebrow raised.
“Good. Now throw me down and fuck me like you mean it.”
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bleedingcoffee42 · 5 years
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Eureka AU- Part 6
The obligatory hospital episode where we throw medical words around like commas and hope nobody questions them.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Roy sat down on the floor of their laundry room where Riza chose to set her military foot looker when she moved in.   It never was unpacked, it just remained here as a piece of furniture they set their clothes bins on.   It was one of the few pieces of décor she brought to this home, one utilitarian wooden box painted in olive drab that stuck out like a sore thumb against all his simplistic pieces.    He didn't realize until now that she really didn't have anything of her own, except for this.  
Sure there were clothes, but who looked to the closet for possessions to define a person?   He felt like he was opening a buried treasure chest, a look at the history of one 1st  Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye prior to her arrival in Eureka.   This predated him, and he hated that he never really opened up the discussion about her past in case she did want to share it.   Instead he felt like he was invading her privacy as he opened the truck to go through it's contents.    
He was limited for time and he didn't want to dwell on it long.  After this was over, he would tell her in great detail about Hughes and ask her if she had anything she wanted to share.   He looked at a neatly folded pile of fatigues and lifted them out to set aside.   Her dress uniform hung in the closet, that she wouldn't dare wrinkle.   Then there was a belt and holster.   Some blankets.   Boots.   A gun cleaning kit and mess kit.   Knives.    And a small safe with a touch pad key code lock.   That he grabbed and immediately entered the code: 0611.
The case opened and there was a gun.  No surprise.   The journal secured to the lid was what he was after so he grabbed it and locked the box back up.   He opened the little book and saw meticulously kept, handwritten records of dates, times, coordinates and operations.   Causalities, notable events.  A record of every military action she had been a part of, starting with a confirmed kill as a cadet on the first page.
He blinked.  She hadn't even graduated yet and they sent her to the field as a sniper? A sniper.  She wasn't just a great marksman, she was one of the elite!   Then the pages of dates and times and numbers, bodies that piled up as she carefully pulled the trigger.   Recorded yardage, recorded shots, wind speed.  Everything bit of data to record this except for the target's name.
She was just a kid.
He had to focus.   This was all something for later.   He quickly flipped through the pages, keeping his eye focused on finding keywords: vaccination or Raven.  Finally he found the entry.   It was a mere six months prior to her coming to Eureka.   An engagement in the desert.   Something about seizing artifacts.   Her special ops team had been given a vaccination to protect them from an ancient virus that was suspected to be in the tomb they were vandalizing.   Well of course it wasn't writing in the ink that way, but he could read between the lines.  He saw the hesitation and the gap in the journal where she debated on what word to use, 'preserving from grave robbers' was written a lot harder than the rest of her sentence.   So he had his answer, the date and time of  her vaccination against a virus that had completely eradicated the people of an entire city-state in ancient times.  An advanced civilization who didn't stand a chance against this plague.
Roy was going to call Ed with the information, but instead chose to take a picture and text it to him.   There was a lot to digest in the entry and he didn't want to be the one to choose what was delivered as data and what wasn't.   He snapped a photo of the page and cropped it so it contained nothing but a description of the event.  The kid would never compromise Riza, he trusted him to use this information wisely, so he sent it.  Watched the confirmation that it was received and read and got back a text in reply.
“I get to be there when you take this fucker down.”
If only Ed knew that the battle was going to be in court, not some showdown in the streets.   It probably went a lot further than Raven, it's not as if some General was sitting in his room at night cooking up vaccinations like Meth.   He had a military contractor create this, he had someone tasked to create and distribute this for him.    Tracing it back to Raven would be next to impossible.   It went through the system like a root that broke through the pipes and was feeding on the sewer water.  
“We made this.”
Roy stared at that text.   Then another one appeared.
“We made the first one.”  
Roy closed his eyes.   Goddammit.  
Xxxxxxxxxxxx
Roy made it back to the infirmary just as Ed arrived with the data he collected.   “So, where are we?”
Ed opened the door to reveal he had his brother Alphonse working on something with Dr. Marcoh.   Mustang went in the room, eyes glued to the dry erase board as the two worked out their thoughts for all to see.   “The original Xerses vaccine was made specifically for Hawkeye's team.”
“So you've checked personnel records?”  Roy asked, knowing the answer already. Riza was the loose end, it was important enough Raven got his hands dirty delivering the murder weapon.
“They're all dead.”  Dr. Knox said from the corner.   “The rest of her team is already gone.  Died in their sleep, shipped home and the plane went down.”
Roy could feel his rage brewing.  
“I made the vaccine.”  Marcoh said.   “I remember it clearly.   They sent me some cloth that was a burial shroud, from a tomb that had been excavated and the air had killed the grave robbers.    The instructions were to produce a vaccination for this antique strain in case the team going in to this vicinity was exposed.”
“There is nothing wrong with that, doctor.”  Roy assured him.   “You did save lives.”
Alphonse Elric stepped back from the board.   “The vaccine itself is not the issue, it's the administration of this recent booster that is.  The booster was made to specifically cause a response, to overwork the system which has an already built up immunity and can target what was injected.  It's a modified virus made to feast on it's weaker self.”
Roy looked at the notes on the board.   A vaccination meant to attack the very specific signature of the previous vaccination.  Something that would be in nobody else's system in the century unless the were given the first Xerses Vaccine.  So now it was attacking the host body itself.  “Well that is way beyond Raven's creative ability and comprehension.  Who the hell made this?”
“If I were a corrupt asshole who stole priceless relics from a war torn country,” Ed said.  “I would say that I had the money to spare to fund a private lab to create something for me.  We forget what it's like to not work here, someone out in a lab dying for funding and freedom would jump at the chance like this.”
“Especially with the spin that it's for the people.”  Alphonse added.
“For the refugees.”  Marcoh chimed in.
“For fucks sake.” Knox snapped and stood up to rush into the room with his patient.   He saw the vitals spike and knew the inevitable was here.  Her body was rejecting the baby to try and increase it's chances for survival.   She was suffering a miscarriage which under normal circumstances would be fine with just careful monitoring, but he was concerned about hemorrhaging in her current condition.  It was time to leave the cure to the researchers, he was here to be a doctor for his patient.
Roy was in the room immediately, following Knox as he tapped on monitors and lifted up the sheet and cursed to himself.   Roy didn't need him to tell him what was happening, he needed him to not say what was happening.   “Can we stop the bleeding?”
Knox looked over at him, eyes pleading with him to not go into detail with what was going on because he wasn't an idiot.   “Go help them find a cure.   There is nothing you can do here.”
Roy wanted to stay, it seemed right, but Knox was correct.   He was needed elsewhere.  So he turned around and went back into the observation room where Marcoh met him with consoling eyes and the Elrics searched his face for answers to their silent question.    They didn't need to know.   “What are the odds that we can attack this virus and not do more harm?”
“It's the only option we have.”  Marcoh said sadly.  “Odds are stacked against us.”
“Fuck the odds.” Ed said.  
“Brother.”  Al said and Ed went over to the board and circled the word Xerses Virsus.  
“We might not know what this mystery scientist made, but I bet we're a thousand times better than that hack!”  Ed said.  “We make our own virus to attack our known variable, Marcoh's Xerses Virus itself.   Then we'll know the worst case scenario of what we're dealing with and take the next step which is to figure out how to destroy what we made.”
“We don't have that kind of time.” Alphonse protested.
“We don't have a choice.”  Ed said.  “And if we run out of time I'll open the gate again and put her somewhere were time stops.”
“What the fuck, brother?”  Al's gasped and everyone looked to Al.  The portal wasn't something they understood at all.  He would dare open it again?  And jeopardize Hawkeye?
“Years off someone's life is better than no life at all.”  Ed snapped. “I'll make that sacrifice.   I'll make it.   She saved us and that's just equivalent exchange as I see it.”
Roy didn't say anything as Ed stormed out and screamed about getting to work.    Al mumbled about 'cheating death' and 'throwing limbs at God' before following his brother out of the room.   Marcoh just picked up his things and nodded before leaving.    Roy stood there and chose to ignore the reference to their Necromancy experiment gone wrong and pick up the tablet Marcoh left for him with the specs on his original Xerses vaccination.  Then he went into the room to be with his wife while they lost their first child.
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The Chaser I Seek
Summary: Muggle-born Anne Wheeler is thrilled when she receives her Head Girl badge in the mail the summer before her final year at Hogwarts, and so is Pureblooded Phillip Carlyle when he discovers he is to be Head Boy. Neither Phillip or Anne knows much about the other, except for what they have learned from afar. Phillip has been watching from the Slytherin side of the stands for years as Anne leads the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team to victory after victory. Anne, on the other hand, has listened to the whispers about the Carlyle family and their obsession with Pureblood lineage, and she knows along with the rest of the school that the Carlyles are instrumental in Voldemort's slowly gaining success.
Neither is prepared to be jarringly thrown together their very first day by a food-fight blown out of proportion.
As both students struggle to balance new responsibilities, they will begin to see new sides to one another-- sides that Phillip has been taught never to look for, and sides that Anne is not ready to explore. But with the wizarding world taking new steps every day towards war, Hogwarts must cling to unity stronger than ever... Especially the two students who are the face of it all.
Word Count: 4,438
Warnings: Language, Fluff
Chapter: 5 of ?
Read it on Wattpad or AO3.
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Song of the Chapter: "Light Me Up" by Ingrid Michaelson
Chapter Five: The Tryouts
Anne had not been expecting to feel the urge to forgive him so quickly.
But after the First Year student, she had been unable to resist it. She had been completely helpless to calm the student down, and then in front of her, Carlyle had opened up to the boy about the fact that he struggled with the same issues. It would have been so easy simply to comfort him as best as he could, but Carlyle took it to another level, despite the fact that she had been there-- and as far as he knew, she would use anything he gave her against him after what he had done. And then he had looked at her and told her that she was not the type of person that anyone wanted to lose.
Anne did not know why her heart had pounded so fiercely, but when he said that, it did. Still, she had stood her ground, and he had made her a promise that she would not receive his pity ever again.
That night, Anne did not go down to dinner. She needed time to think, away from him. Things could go back, she decided to herself... To their 'normal,' whatever it had been before. She did not expect him to go about defending her, fighting her battles for her. That was something she needed to do for herself, and both understood that. She knew he was from a completely different world than her, and she did not intend on pulling him away from it. Yes, it caused a slightly painful ache in her chest, but that hardly mattered. Just because she had her world and he had his did not mean that they could not coexist in the neutral ground that was the Common Room. There, they existed in the same space, and that was enough. If Phillip was going to leave the world of family ties, pure blood, and glittering silver, he was going to have to do it himself.
She would not make any attempt to drag him away when it would mean nothing unless he walked away himself. Besides, why should he leave? They were partners, but nothing more. He had his friends and she had W.D.
Anne sat in the common room by herself in front of the fireplace, curled up in a squishy red armchair that felt absolutely amazing. She had received a lot of homework, and it had taken hours for her to finish a thirty-two-inch essay for Advanced Potions. But now she was done with that, Anne was not ready to set down the quill and go to bed. It was eleven 'o clock, but after this morning, the Head Girl had decided to take on the task of memorizing the names of the First Years. After that morning, it seemed important. They had a massive transition to make, and she wanted to be able to help as much as possible. How, she questioned herself, was she supposed to do this if she did not even know their names?
It was late, and the fire burned lower and lower. The smell of the wood smoke was soothing, too soothing, and the Ravenclaw found herself nodding off repeatedly. She had been making a list, pasting tiny pictures down neatly and then writing the names from the student registry beside them so that she could look over them in class. It was a neat and self-explanatory system, but her mind was completely exhausted. Anne's fingers felt fuzzy and clumsy, and then, before she knew it, Anne was sinking into darkness.
When she opened her eyes, she saw eyes, staring at her.
She was in the center of a room of all black, someplace she did not recognize. Faces with blurred, grotesque features stared at her. Each face looked like it was made of wax that had been disturbed while melted, but the eyes were all the same. They focused on her, staring her down as hands pointed wands in her direction. Anne looked down, but she had no wand-- she had nothing at all. No clothing, no shoes, nothing to separate herself from them and her. It was then that a jet of light escaped one of the wand tips, and she was levitating before them. The faceless mob did not touch her, but they reached out for her with clawed hands holding wands. Sparks escaped one, scorching her skin. A scream left her lips, but no one reacted. More sparks-- on her face, her arms, her chest, her legs. Where they touched, her own skin burned, becoming as waxy and distorted as theirs. She smelled something burning as sparks nestled in her hair, smoldering there despite her screams.
When she looked up, a skull with a serpent in its mouth leered down at her.
"Wheeler, Wheeler!"
Hands gripped her arms, and Anne let out a cry of panic as she struggled to beat them away. Immediately, they released her, and she tumbled to a hard landing on the floor as she struggled to free herself from what she realized was a blanket, trapping in the heat of her body. Anne still smelled smoke as she struggled to extricate herself from folds of fabric, flinging it fiercely across the room. It was the fire, she realized. Something was smoldering in the grate... The scorched remains of what she thought might be an envelope. Yes, she was certain it had been a letter, she could see the green wax of a seal bubbling on the edge of one of the logs, the way her own skin had when met with sparks.
Anne greedily drew in the air with ragged breaths, and before she realized it she was cradling herself in her own arms. She was on the floor, curled up with her knees held to her chest. Something damp dripped onto her robes, and she realized the source of the moisture was her own eyes. She did not bother to brush the tears away, only struggled to close her mouth. She had been screaming silently, and Anne only realized this when she stopped and found her throat raw.
Anne looked up to see who had grabbed her, and her stinging brown eyes met the deep blue pools of Carlyle's.
His face was a mixture of panic and worry, pure and simple. He towered over her, simply looking down at the huddled form of the girl on the floor. Anne's eyes traveled past him, and she realized he had been sitting in the other armchair. On the table beside it was a roll of parchment... her own, she realized. It was the list she had been making of the first years, but it was much longer than it had been when she last remembered doing it. He had continued his work with the same meticulous care she had used.
Anne looked back to him, and she struggled to speak through parched lips. "N...Night-t..." She swallowed over her sore throat before trying again. "Nightmare." She loathed the weak, scratchy tone of her voice right then, but Anne tried to ignore it as she took her hands and buried her face in them. For a moment, she just breathed and wiped the moisture from her cheeks. When she looked up, he was kneeling down before her, appearing hesitant.
"Wheeler," he said quietly. "You're exhausted. Come on, let me help get you to bed." His hand was stretched towards hers, and her throat seemed to close up at the idea.
"N-no, no," she found herself whispering, almost pleading. She loathed herself for it, but she was. "I can't, I don't- It'll happen again." She was shaking, like a leaf almost.
"You don't have to go to your room," he offered quietly, not removing his hand. "Lay down in the chair, and I'll stay here and work on this. If it happens again, I swear that I will wake you."
Anne chewed her lip. "Promise?" she found herself asking.
"Promise."
Slowly, Anne took his hand and used it to pull herself up. Edison had been right... It was smooth against her own hands, which were roughened from the wood of a broomstick. She walked as if in a daze to the chair, where she curled up. A moment later, she felt the warmth of the blanket being thrown at her. Anne let out a muffled groan, turning to adjust it.
"Bloody sadist," she mumbled sleepily. "Don't... You don't need to do the chart."
"You know it," he hummed, amused. "And I'm Head Boy, Wheeler. I'm the only one who doesn't have to do what you say."
She fell asleep to the sound of crackling embers and the rustling of parchment as he unrolled the student registry again.
The next morning, neither said much of anything about the events of the previous night. Carlyle had fallen asleep in the armchair across from Anne, and when she woke, she threw a crumpled piece of parchment his direction to make sure he got up. The pair of them got ready in an easy dance, making tea and coffee and exchanging insults about one another's beverages the way they had a few days prior.
That day was going to be a good one, because it was Quidditch tryouts.
Nothing could dampen Anne's mood-- not the massive amount of Herbology homework they had, the fight between three Fourth Years and a Second Year who held his own surprisingly well, and certainly not the fact that it was raining in icy sheets. As Anne walked out onto the field in her robes, she did not seem to care that the rain was drenching her curls and blue robes. She was on the Quidditch Pitch, and she was going to fly.
Tryouts began with the Chasers. The rain seemed to discourage several, and this was an immediate turn-off for Anne on their parts. They would be playing in the rain, sleet, and fog, so it was imperative that they be able to fly in any conditions. But the exercises made Anne feel alive. They passed a Quaffle, having been separated by Anne into two teams. The game was fierce, fast-paced. If there was one thing Anne loved about the Ravenclaw House, it was the competitive nature of the students. They were fighting, ignoring ties of house and friendship for the time being to work towards one goal. Anne took everything she saw into account, playing alongside them and manipulating the game so that it went the way that she wanted it to. Response time, ability to pass, agility, speed... Everything played a part in her decisions. She would make them now, before everyone else, and they knew it. Anne saw no point in waiting to let her memory taint what her eyes saw.
She selected Coleman, a blonde Sixth Year girl whose talent for quick, neat passes and stealing the Quaffle with light fingers would serve them well. She also chose Fourth Year Acuna who had a knack for catching with startling accuracy, even passes that seemed as though they should be completely impossible. For Beaters, she selected sturdily built Spinghel and the reedy Nichols. Nichols had been on the team the year previous, and her performance that day showed she had not allowed her previous success to make her comfortable. The girl's reedy form was deceptive, for her swing was powerful and accurate enough that she could aim between players on her own team with the Bludgers and not harm anyone. Swenson was a returning player as well, being one of the trustiest Keepers Anne had ever had the fortune to play with. Finally, the last addition to their team was found in Sparks, a skinny Second Year who was a surprise to Anne. But his keen eyes and propensity for sharp turns made him the perfect choice for their team.
The pitch became emptier and emptier as more players left, and those who had chosen slowly began to fill a bench in the back. They were soaked and Anne could tell they were exhausted; they should have been. She had drilled them hard and pitted them against one another. But the satisfaction in their faces made Anne feel warm through the icy rain. They were united by the circumstances of her hard drilling and the freezing rain, and this allowed room for bonding. By the time Gordon was selected, the other members of the team cheered thunderously for the skinny underclassmen. As the rest of the students who had tried out left the field, Anne was able to address the team.
"Congratulations," she called through the roaring wind, offering them a rare but well-earned smile. Anne may not have been a particularly warm or cuddly person, but after the night she had had, this success made her hopeful. "Don't get complacent. We're going to have a hard season, I can tell. The Hufflepuff team is almost all Seventh Years, which is great for next year's team, but not for us. Still, I think we can do it. If they fall into the trap of relaxing where we can't afford it, we will be alright. And I want the trophy this year. No pressure, but I have six trophies under my belt, and I want to leave with seven."
A series of chuckles swept through the team, and Anne knew she had said the right thing. This season would be a fight, but it would be a good one.
"Now, hit the showers. Make sure you warm up your bones and get rest, we can't afford to be getting sick. Get ready. These next few weeks are going to be brutal. They're also going to grow every single one of us."
The team took that as their orders to disperse, and everyone shook hands with one another as they left. Anne could not seem to stop grinning. She was proud, of this team, and she had flown. Rain or not, she loved it.
Anne took a shower to rinse herself of the mud that spattered her in the locker room, but she did not bother with soap. Instead, over the running water, she listened to the interactions of the others. Some were more familiar with one another than others, simply based on age. But everyone seemed to be making an effort, especially to include the much younger Sparks. They did not force anything, Anne could tell. They all knew they would be spending a lot of time together, getting to know one another's rougher edges and more difficult spots. However, the struggles they faced would only be the working of grime through the gears of a well-oiled machine.
Before Anne knew it, they were saying goodbyes, and she was the last one left.
Anne had changed into a pair of leggings and a long-sleeved shirt over a jacket, and as she left the locker rooms, she clutched her broom in her hands. She was approaching the shed, but then Anne's eyes found the Quidditch Pitch one last time. Something clicked, a tugging in her navel that pulled her towards it. The rain was falling in icy sheets, and she knew it would soak her without mercy. But her hair was already wet and loose down her back, and she wanted to be in the middle of it all... The stormy clouds made the Pitch that much her own.
Before she knew it, Anne was dumping the bag that held her wet Quidditch thing in the shelter of the overhang by the broom shed. With her broom clenched in her hand, she ran through the rain, feeling its cold bite soak through her black clothing. Anne ignored that, and for a moment, she just stood in the very center in the wet sand. Her jogging had splashed it onto her black leggings, and she already felt mud on her trainers. Anne ignored that, closing her eyes as she stood there in the middle of it all with a tinging in the pit of her stomach.
Anne had played with Ravenclaw since her very first year. Her abilities with a broom had been undeniable, and her affinity for the air was obvious to anyone who saw her. She was fast, enough so that if one blinked they might miss her. But more than that Anne had an agility, a fearless understanding of the air that allowed her to perform feats that seemed like death wishes. W.D. had a similar talent, but they both knew that Anne was more graceful, more unafraid, more in love with the feeling of no air beneath her feet. So he had bought her the best broom he could for her last birthday, even though he could not afford to.
Said broom quivered in her hands, waiting for her to mount.
Anne opened her eyes, and in an instant, her soaked, sand-spattered legs were on either side of the broom. Just one slight nudge and the intuitive broom was shooting upwards at an angle that might have been dangerous had she not been holding tight with confident hands. And held tight to the broom, allowing herself to roll in sharp spins as it shot up at a ninety-degree angle. Anne felt the wind tear a laugh from her lips, losing it to the storm forever. Maybe the winds would carry it away from here and on somewhere, where she could find it again once she had escaped the ties of her blood and her status. It did not matter to her now. Here, she was free.
Once Anne was sufficiently high enough (a good fifty feet up), she allowed the broom to level and slow in speed until it was not shooting as much as it was drifting. If her previous actions had not been insane enough, she fluidly continued in her stunts. These were things she could not do in a game unless she got herself into a very specific situation. Anne perched on the broom, slowly swinging one leg so she practically sat sidesaddle. Then, she let go.
Anne was hanging upside down from her broom by her knees as she soared through the air lazily, letting her hands stretch free towards the sand below. Lazily, playfully, even, Anne used her foot to nudge the broom so that it stopped midair, and then it began to spin like a pinwheel, with Anne hanging loosely from it. The helplessness of the dream could not reach her up here.
Anne drifted like this for several seconds until she found herself wanting to shift positions to keep the blood from rushing to her head. Anne reached up and gripped the wood with her fingertips, and then she slid her legs free. The shift of weight caused the broom to dip slightly as she dangled free, and her stomach dropped delightfully as it did so. For a moment, Anne was holding on by her fingers. Then, she pulled herself up in one effortless movement, hooking the broom under her arms. She was soaked and she was in the middle of the fierce wind, and she probably looked a mess with her curls plastered to her face and her clothes sticking to her body. But the cold made her feel alive, and she kicked playfully at the open air like a child dipping their toes off of a pier.
"Merlin, Wheeler, get down from there! You're going to get caught in one gust of wind and then you'll break your neck, and I'll have to do rounds tomorrow at night all by myself."
Anne stiffened, and for a moment she almost dangerously dropped a few feet in the air. Anne glanced down below, and standing in the center of the ring holding an umbrella was Carlyle. His robes billowed in the wind, and she almost laughed at how windswept he looked, a strange look for the meticulous Slytherin.
She did not laugh, however, because she realized that he must have been watching her, with her soaked hair making her look like a drowned cat and her leggings and top plastered to her like a second skin.
"Honestly, Carlyle, do you have to scare a girl like that?" she demanded. Anne obliged, however, though not completely as he might have wished. She tipped one end of the broom downwards, closing the distance so that she was only ten or so feet from the ground now. The descent was slow, and since Anne was not riding properly, she had to carefully control every movement. Her feet were pointed in her trainers as she lightly scooped at the air with them gracefully, a gesture that appeared to be a mixture of tiptoe and treading water. "You're the only real danger here. Have you been here the whole time?"
He arched an eyebrow at her, and she was surprised up close exactly how windswept his hair was. Although it was not wet, the wind had tousled it so that it looked wild, disheveled, the way it did after every Quidditch game. She did not know why it was so easy to imagine running her fingers through it and the smell of pine. "Had to scope out the competition. It was not too difficult to blend in underneath the stands."
"Of course," she muttered. "Bloody cheater. If you can't pick your own team members without seeing how I do it first-"
"I already chose my team," he hummed, waving a breezy hand. "I wanted to see the style of our opposition. We've got to get past you if we're going to get Hufflepuff, we can't win on my looks alone."
"Your team must be quite grateful that they're not being judged on your looks."
"I am hurt, Wheeler. If you must know, popular opinion is that I am the most attractive student in the school."
"And whose opinion is this? Cite your sources, Carlyle."
He gave her an amused smirk, shaking his head. "I was scoping out this year's talent, and then I had to look over my notes. So imagine my surprise when the slave driver of the Quidditch team went back on her own advice to come out in the rain and give the whole world a heart attack on her broom."
Anne hummed, hooking her legs over the broom again and releasing. The soaking curtain of her curls slid off of her shoulder in favor of hanging from her head. "It is not anything I have not done before," she countered. "I am as much an expert at this as you are at coming second to me in everything you do."
Carlyle arched an eyebrow, and the smirk only increased. "Is that a challenge, Wheeler?" he hummed. "Because I will have you know that we are bitterly going to defeat you this year." He took a step towards her, closing his umbrella in favor of fixing her with a lively stare.
"Not if I have anything to-"
It was at that moment that the wind intensified, howling in Anne's ears and causing her muscles to stiffen. The gale combined with the redistribution of Anne's weight knocked the broom from the air and suddenly Anne was free-falling. Carlyle cried out, and suddenly he was rushing towards her. As she fell, Anne collided with him, knocking him down with her.
The wind whipped her hair, obscuring her view. The wind was knocked from Anne's lungs as she went spiraling with Carlyle, their bodies rolling with the wind over one another several times. When they finally came to a stop, Anne was beneath Carlyle. His arms were on either side of her, keeping them from rolling again. Her hair was sprawled out in the red sand behind her head, but several curls were plastered to her bare collarbone. The wet sand coated both of them thickly now, and it was streaked all through Carlyle's face and hair as he propped himself over her. His body rested on top of herse as she fought to catch her breath, and he stared at her with wide eyes. Her own lips were parted slightly in shock, and she could smell the scent of his pine soap as she looked up at him. His weight atop her was dizzying, and her eyes met his own icy blue irises. They flickered, just for a moment, down to his full lips, one of which was being held lightly by his teeth. She could not breathe, could not move. She was drenched and her clothing presented little barrier between them at this point.
For a moment, the pair of them sat there, Anne's broom beside them, just staring. Then, Anne finally managed to choke out, "C-Carlyle, I can't breathe."
"I... You... Right," he stammered, rolling off of her. Anne immediately sat up and wiped her face of the grainy sand, blinking several times. She glanced in his direction.
"Are you... I didn't hurt you, did I?" she questioned worriedly.
"How could you? You're about the size of a German Shepherd," he countered, earning him a glare as he wiped his face. His eyes locked on hers, and the amusement faded as they flickered to her cheekbone.
"Wheeler, you've got a..." he began quietly, thoughtfully. he took a step towards her, reaching out with his hand as if it was moving of his own accord. His hand cupped her face, with his fingers coming to rest on the nape of her neck as he lightly brushed her cheek with a thumb, removing one last bit of sand.
They were so close, and his touch made her chest feel like someone had released a million lightning bugs inside of her. For a moment, she forgot about the cold and the wet and her sore body, and her eyes found his lips.
Her heart leaped, and she snapped out of it.
"Thank you," she mumbled stiffly as she took a step backward, forcing his hand to stop cupping her cheek.
This seemed to bring him back to the present, too. "I need to go make... Work through my notes," he stammered. "Now you're down, you'd better take some sort of warm shower."
"You, too," she said, gesturing to him. "I don't know it the water will be able to warm your heart, but it should feel good on the rest of you." It was a stupid attempt at a quip, and it had failed. But he offered her a small, uncertain smile anyway.
"Bye, Wheeler," he said. "Don't go falling another couple stories between here and the Common Room." Then, he turned and began to walk away, leaving Anne alone with her broom in the center of the pitch.
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