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liiilyevans · 3 years

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Harry walking on Ron and Hermione ;)

A/N: Hi Anon! Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy!

Four Times Harry Walked in on Ron and Hermione and One Time He Didn’t

Harry sighed as he walked through the Burrow’s front door. He’d been at Death Eater hearings the majority of the day, and now he just wanted to sleep. Trials weren’t as simple as he thought they should be. Of course, the world wasn’t as simple as he thought it would be either. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that he would testify for Draco Malfoy.

Shaking his head, he continued into the surprisingly quiet house. He was pretty sure Mrs. Weasley and Ginny had gone to Diagon Alley to check up on George. Mr. Weasley was still at the Ministry when he left. That left Percy and Ron. Percy was probably in his room trying to figure out yet another way to apologize to his family. Harry figured Ron was still in his room sulking while he waited for Hermione to return from Australia. Ron had been moody ever since she left.

Honestly, it was the quickest turn around Harry had ever seen. Ron had been gone for several months and returned; then they were thrown into battle, only for Ron and Hermione to come out of it holding hands. If only Harry was so lucky.

Sighing, he pushed the bathroom door open and turned the shower on. After such a long day, all Harry wanted to do was shower and sleep. He turned to go up the stairs and grab some clothes, thinking about what was next for him. As he passed Ginny’s room, he sighed, wondering if her room like it was the last time he had been in it. Ginny had been on his mind too much lately, yet he could never find the right words to say to her. Something stupid always ended up coming out of his mouth.

Shaking his head, he pushed the door to Ron’s room open.

And was meant with an eyeful of Hermione’s bra.

At least, the back of it. She was straddling Ron while the redhead lay underneath her, shirtless. Harry’s heart dropped out of his chest. Hermione wasn’t supposed to be back for another week—four days at the least. Yet, here she was; setting on top of his best friend with nothing more than a pink bra and tight jeans, while Ron gaped at him, red sneaking up the sides of his neck and ears.

“Harry!” Hermione squeaked.

“Hermione!” Harry mocked, trying his best not to let his breakfast make a reappearance.

“You were supposed to be in the Death Eater trials.”

“You weren’t supposed to be back for another week.”

“Got in early.”

“Me too.”

By this time, Ron’s face had gone completely red, and Hermione had a faint blush creeping up on her face as well. Harry wanted to smack them both with a Beater’s bat. What if Mrs. Weasley had come upstairs and found them? However, he couldn’t hide from himself the fact that he was jealous that they had each other in this moment after the war. He was happy they could take comfort in each other, even if he had no one to take comfort in right now.

“I’m going back downstairs to check on my shower,” Harry muttered through grit teeth. “When I come back up, you two better be dressed.”

He slammed the door and headed back downstairs, hoping he could get some sleep soon and not have nightmares about Hermione sitting on Ron’s lap.

I.I.

Harry planned to meet George at his and Ron’s flat after George closed his shop. The three of them were going out for drinks to get George out of his flat. Honestly, it was a miracle he had agreed to come with them. He had just agreed to reopen the shop with Ron’s help.

Harry had to give Ron credit though. He’d been training as an Auror and working in George’s shop in the early mornings and late evenings. More often than not, Ron had showed up with dark circles under his eyes. He was always smiling though, happy to help his brother and train with Harry to become an Auror.

As he climbed the steps to the flat, Harry wondered what Ginny was doing tonight and if they should ask her to tag along. Since graduating from Hogwarts, Harry hadn’t seen much of her—not that he’d spent much time with her while she was in Hogwarts. Ginny was just as untouchable now as when he’d broken up with her.

Turning the knob, he entered the flat. It was darker than usual. The only light coming from between the curtains of the windows. There was only once piece of furniture in the front room and it was a couch, which happened to be housing his two best friends.

Ron was on top of Hermione with his pants just starting to be tugged off his hips. For her part, Hermione was mostly covered. Her blue dress only had a few buttons undone, but the bottom of it had ridden up from where Ron was grinding into her.

“For fuck’s sake,” Harry sputtered.

Ron jumped, nearly exposing Hermione to Harry’s line of sight. He thanked Merlin that it was dark.

“Harry,” Ron panted, as he pulled his trousers back up. “I didn’t expect you to be early.”

“Early?” Harry shot back. “I’m on time. Where the fuck is George anyway?”

“Downstairs closing,” Ron answered, still not moving from between Hermione’s legs. “He said he could close without me since I’d been working so hard.”

“So, you thought you’d come up here and have a quickie?”

“No,” Hermione objected, her distain for the word obvious in the way her lips tightened.

The door to the kitchen opened, and the kitchen light came on, exposing more of Ron and Hermione than Harry wanted to see. George appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised.

“Having fun?” he asked drily.

Ron growled finally standing up and beginning to put his shirt on. Hermione grabbed her dress and pushed it quickly done her legs. Clearly seeing that she wasn’t wearing a bra, Harry glanced away. As Hermione began to button up the top of her dress, George snorted.

“Right then,” he said. “Let’s get going then. No birds allowed.” He offered a pointed glance at Hermione.

Well, Harry’s plan of asking Ginny to come along was ruined.

I.I.I.

Harry found Ginny, George, and Percy in the kitchen of the Burrow. Ginny looked devastating as always, her hair pulled up into a high pony that showed off her high cheek bones. Harry remembered when he was allowed to run his thumb alone those cheekbones and trace the line of her freckles. She acted annoyed when he did that, but she let him anyway. His hands drew into fists for a moment, to stop himself from reaching out and stroking her face. George would take the mickey out of him if he did that.

“What are you lot doing in here?” Harry asked.

“Waiting for Mum to get back,” George answered. “Starving we are.”

“Hardly,” Percy muttered.

He was still awkward around his family sometimes, mostly around George. Harry suspected it was due to the fact that George had nearly fought him at Fred’s funeral.

“What are you doing here?” Ginny asked. “It’s too early for super.”

“I know,” Harry said, trying to think of something cool to say other than, ‘I wanted to see if I could get you alone.’ “I got off training early. Thought I’d swing by and see if Ron was here yet.”

Idiot, he seethed inside. He prayed that his best mate wasn’t here yet; then he could spend more time with Ginny.

Ginny hummed, glancing down for a moment. “Ron’s in the front room.”

Harry nodded and slid past Ginny. The smell of her perfume made him weak in the knees. Merlin, what he wouldn’t give to have enough courage to talk to her about them, even Ron had been with Hermione for three years now, and Harry couldn’t even manage to talk to Ginny about anything that was remotely romantic. Last time he’d had a proper conversation with her, it was about Quidditch and how the Harpies were cheated out of their chance for the Cup. Annoyed he entered the sitting room and stopped dead.

Hermione was bent over Ron’s lap, her head bobbing up and done slowly. Ron, thankfully, still had his pants on, so Harry couldn’t see anything below the belt. He still had his shirt on as well, though Hermione’s hand was traveling underneath it. With his head thrown back against the couch and his eyes closed. Ron looked completely at ease.

Until his eyes opened.

“Harry,” he squeaked.

Hermione froze. Harry thought she was about to remove her mouth from Ron’s lap, but his hand came down on her head, keeping her in place.

“Really, Ron?” Harry hissed. “In your mum’s sitting room?”

Ron had the grace to blush. “Listen, Harry, just . . . don’t tell Mum.”

Throwing his hands up, Harry turned and marched back into the kitchen. George had a shit-eating grin on his face, while Ginny was biting her lip. Percy’s gaze was somewhat sympathetic.

“You knew,” Harry growled, turning to Ginny.

“I guessed.”

At this, George couldn’t hold back his laughter.

Harry was glad someone found this amusing.

I.V.

Harry couldn’t help but smile against Ginny’s lips. It’d been months since he’d seen her. She was out with the Harpies playing match after match and practice hardly left her with any free time. He, on the other hand, was busy trying to work on several different cases at once. His boss seemed to think he was good enough to solve them all at once since he was Harry bloody Potter.

Thankfully, when Harry was with Ginny, he didn’t have to think about how he was going to fix the world’s problems.

Ginny pressed her body more firmly against his as she leaned against the wall, her fingers pulling tight at the messy locks of his hair. He couldn’t get enough of her, his hands pressing into the softness of her back.

“Glad you came to that stupid Ministry function?” she asked, her lips grazing the skin of his neck.

“Yes,” he mumbled. “Never enjoyed one so much until I saw you in this dress.”

Ginny laughed.

He hadn’t wanted to be at the Ministry, but Ron had talked him into it. Harry hadn’t realized that Ginny was supposed to be there, but thanked his lucky stars that he had been able to talk to her—and get her alone. They were still in the Ministry, down some deserted hallway.

“Come on,” Ginny muttered. “I wanna get you alone, where I can get your clothes off.”

Harry groaned as he pressed against her. “Gin.”

They still weren’t together. Somehow Harry had been lucky enough to get in her pants again, but that was it. She never asked about him taking her out on a date or hanging out with him as something more than a friend. It frustrated Harry to no end, but he didn’t want to bring up a relationship if all she was looking for was fun. Merlin, he really needed to grow a pair and ask her out.

“In here,” she mumbled as she pushed open the door to a vacant room. He stumbled in after her, kissing the side of her neck. If he could just find the tie to this dress, he would be the happiest man in the world.

“What the bloody fuck!”

Harry yanked away from Ginny as she lit her wand and spun around. On a nearby counter, sat Hermione covering her breasts with Ron between her legs. Harry’s best mate was wearing nothing, but the trousers around his ankles, his freckled arse on display for both of them to see. Hermione wasn’t much better. The dress she had been wearing earlier was around her waist, covering only a small portion of her and Ron’s private bits.

“What are you doing?” Ginny laughed. “I didn’t take you for an exhibitionist, Hermione.”

She scowled and was about to say something, but Ron beat her to it.

“What are you doing?” he demanded. “And what’s Harry doing with you? I thought you two weren’t together.”

“We’re not,” she answered. “And I don’t believe you’re in a position to be asking questions, Ronald. Wait till Mum hears about this.”

Ron started towards her, but Hermione tightened her legs around him to stop him from moving.

Harry finally recovered his voice. He grabbed Ginny’s arm.

“Come on, Gin.”

“Get back to work, Sparky. Make sure that girl has an orgasm!”

Ron slid into the bed next to Hermione. She’d rented out a room in Diagon Alley to live in over the summer as she looked for a permanent job. Ron had taken the liberty of spending most of his nights with her—behind his mum’s back of course.

“Ron?” she mumbled.

“Hey,” he said, snuggling up to her. Spooning Hermione was the most comforting action he could think of. All of the stress melted out of his body and dripped onto the bed, bothering him no more.

“It’s late.”

“Mum was up for a long time. Crying I think, but I couldn’t get her to admit it. She was probably missing Fred.”

Hermione turned to face him. “Is she ok?”

Ron pushed a strand of curly hair behind her ear. “Yeah, she’ll be fine. Dad came down and talked to her. They went to bed about thirty minutes ago.”

“Are you ok?” she asked. He knew she wasn’t talking about missing Fred exactly. He’d been working with George and trying to balance his job as an Auror, all while figuring out how to deal with the loss of his brother. It wasn’t an easy thing.

“Yeah, Perce has been helping with the book keeping. George and I aren’t very good at that.” He snorted. “Go figure.”

“I worry about you sometimes,” she whispered, thumb running along his jawline. She was fully awake now, and her big brown eyes were watching him with a mix of curiosity and pity.

“Don’t,” Ron said, poking her stomach. “I’m the one who should be worried about you. What’s all this nonsense I hear about you not being able to get a job because you’re ‘overqualified?’”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t matter. And only one person said that. I haven’t heard back from the other two departments yet. I’ll find something, Ron.”

“I know,” he said. “But I want you to love it.”

Hermione sighed and rolled on top of him. Ron grabbed her hips and enjoyed the view.

“I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Nothing.”

She leaned down and kissed him. Ron let his hands slid up to cup her face and hold her there. This was his favorite part of dating her. He got to be intimate with her, and not just in a sexual way. He got to hold her hand and kiss her and cuddle with her late at night. It really was the closest he had been to anyone in his life.

She began to tug at his shirt.

“Hermione,” he muttered. “Do you really want to do this right now?”

“Yes,” she answered pulling the shirt over his head.

Ron reached for her shirt and tugged it up as well. Fuck, she wasn’t wearing a bra.

If he’d thought it once, he’d thought it a hundred times. Hermione had perfect tits. They were on the small end, but her nipples were large and pink. They stuck out beautifully when she was turned on—much like they were doing right now.

“Hermione,” he groaned, grabbing her hips and grinding up into her. She grinned at him, proud of how she made him squirm. Ron surged upward to kiss her, nipping at her bottom lip.

“Ron,” she groaned, her hands sliding up his arms and coming to rest on his shoulders.

“Hermione,” he answered. “I . . .” Words left him. He wanted to ask her to get a flat with him, but he knew that it was too soon for that. She would want to live on her own for a bit while she had a job and try to figure her life out first. Damn her independence.

“I need you to take your pants off,” he said instead. Hermione willingly complied. She moved off his lap and pushed her sleep trousers off her legs, leaving her in bright pink knickers. “You’re gorgeous.”

Ron pulled her back into his lap and pressed his lips into the edge of her collarbone. Hermione moaned, rocking her hips into his pants since he’d thrown his trousers off when he’d entered her bedroom. His hand grabbed the ends of her hair and pulled slightly. Hermione’s head rocked back, and her chest arched toward him. Without thinking, Ron leaned forward and captured a nipple between his lips.

“Ron,” she gasped. Pride thumbed through his body as she moaned his name and wiggled on his lap. He still couldn’t believe she let him do this to her.

His hand ran down her body until it reached her knickers. As his hand rested on her thigh, he let his thumb reach down and begin to rub her clit. Her bottom lip was stuck between her teeth now as she waited for him to drive her closer to the edge.

“You’re so sexy when you’re like this,” Ron said, brushing small kisses across her chest.

Hermione pulled against his grasp, and he let her hair go. The hands on his shoulders became forceful. He fell back on the bed. Hermione’s hands were on either side of his head, her hair fanning around them both, bits of it covering her eyes.

“Get your pants off.”

“I love it when you order me around.”

“Shut it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ron quickly rid himself of his pants and laid back down with his hands resting behind his head.

“Why are you so smug?” she demanded.

“I’m not,” he replied. “I just like watching you strip.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and climbed on top of him. He could feel her wetness as she rubbed herself on him. His hands ran down the bed and found her thighs. They climbed the creamy skin until they reached her center. He lined himself up with her entrance as she lifted up slightly. Then she was sinking down onto him, and Ron was trying so hard not to come inside her already.

He’d improved greatly since they’d first started this. Before, he hadn’t been able to last more than five seconds, and he’d have to finish her with his fingers and mouth, not that he didn’t enjoy that. However, when he was able to last longer and make Hermione come while he was inside of her, it was even better than before.

“Hermione,” he moaned, pressing his hips into her in an effort to get deeper.

“Ron. Yes. That’s so good.”

Ron pushed up into her again, loving the feeling of being close to her.

Sometimes, he felt like he was the more sentimental one when it came to sex. He loved watching her as she moved under or on top of him. He was the one who enjoyed the feel of her, regardless of how much pleasure he received from the position they were in. She was more analytical about it, trying to figure out what they both liked and what positions would work best for both of their pleasure. Ron was content just to be inside her.

Her hips were pushing roughly against his. Ron knew that if he didn’t help her out, he’d be the first one coming tonight.

“Hermione,” he muttered, hands sliding down her hips to her core. “I love it when you ride me.”

Hermione moaned loudly. Ron’s hand found her clit and began to message it slowly.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” he said, pressing her clit harder. “I love watching you.”

His name fell from her lips and she pressed herself against his hand, as she tightened around his cock.

“You feel so good around me.”

His hand started to add more pressure to her clit and she whimpered.

“Ron, I’m so close.”

“I know, Hermione.”

He pressed up and took one of her nipples into his mouth. Hermione moaned loudly before clenching around his cock and bringing him with her as she came down from her high.

“I needed that,” Ron muttered as Hermione lay exhausted on top of his chest.

“I know,” she said. “You’ve been stressed lately.��

“Oi, are you saying you only shagged me because I was stressed?”

“No, I shagged you because I wanted to. Sex just happens to help with stress.”

Ron grinned as his hand traced patterns on her back. He truly was the luckiest man in the world.

#anon #romione #ron wealsey #hermione granger #harry potter #ginny weasley #i had fun writing this #hope you enjoy #hp #Smut #My writing

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bxllafanficc · 3 years

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¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plisetsky x reader)

(part one)

part two part three part four part five. Find the rest on; Masterlist

Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none

*Yuri's POV*

"Remind me once again why we're going to Japan? It's clear you'd never take us there just because you miss Victor and I know by experience that it's not because of his apprentice."

First class flight like usual. The view out the airplane window of the sparkling city at nighttime below them would stun anybody but at this point, Yuri has traveled so many times it's only become regular sights and the lights of the streets are only plain colored spots in a dark void to him these days. One thing he will never feel comfortable with though is staying in the same seat for hours on end until the airplane arrives at its destination. His legs are itching from wanting to move around. He'll just have to jog it off back on the ground like every other trip in the past.

"You'll be spending some time with Yuuri Katsuki and Victor the following weeks to gain your fighting spirit back. You need to get back in touch with your emotions, remember?" Yakov slightly turned his posture towards the Russian skater beside him, folding his newspaper in half and putting it in his lap.

He only nodded with a slight hum. He could see Yakov's reasoning, some parts of it at least. He HAD been lacking in emotional performance ever since the new year began and it was time to get back into the mindset of winning yet another Grand Prix gold medal like last year. No, not last year. Last year's competition was cancelled after a minor pandemic spread through Russia and the nearby regions. In fear of the virus spreading, all competitions cancelled and larger crowded areas were forbidden to take place. Therefore Yuri's only been able to practice by himself and keeping himself fit for a possible competition next year. But a year of doing nothing can really change your spirit and afraid to admitting it to his coach, he's been missing several opportunities to hit the rink and stayed home watching anime or scrolled through social media instead.

But one thing he doesn't get is how Victor and Yuuri are gonna make him get his mindset in the right track again. He already won his first gold medal at his senior debut and he doubt that the Japanese skater will be in any better condition than Yuri's currently in right now. Pig-man must've been in a much worse state considering his boo Victor had to stay in Russia during the pandemic, unable to keep an eye on Yuuri's routines.

"Besides, there's a little surprise waiting for you where you'll be staying with the two of them. It better work out fine or else I'm out of ideas."

That caught his attention to say the least.

"Well if it's supposed to save me from the deep end then why be so secretive and hushy with it? Spill the news, Yakov."

The old man only grunted and picked up his newspaper once again and hid his face behind it. Well now he really wanted to know what it was. Clearly he would have to make some effort. Soon the article about a Russian charity event taking place this weekend got replaced with a clenched fist going straight through the back of the paper. Yuri expected some kind of reaction but Yakov only sighed and leaned back in his seat without even a flinch.

"It's no surprise if I tell you. I promised Victor to keep it a secret."

"Tell me."

"No."

Yuri groaned and folded his arms with a sour glare. The display in the ceiling told the traveler's that it was 10 minutes until landing so he gave up his attempts and let his eyes rest for a while. At least he would find out tomorrow, he assumed. It was 2am and he would be staying at a hotel close to the airport since it was too late to make rest of the trip in one day.

Yuri was out with the speed of a lightning bolt the second the plane doors opened. He sped past everyone before him and he didn't stop when he finally got outside. His feet carried him to run circles around the plane meanwhile he was waiting for Yakov to get out the normal way. It's a silly habit of his and he knows he looks stupid doing it but his coach has given him strict orders to not run away at one random direction like used to do at first. It would take like half an hour for him to be found once he took off, but only if he got lost.

"Yuri! Get over here!"

Well, there's his cue to get ready and head to the hotel. Finally he's able to get some sleep before he's forced to wake up early at dawn to head to Hot Springs and meet the two most annoying people in Japan.

...

He didn't even have time to eat breakfast. He overslept and got rushed to the cab with an angry Yakov behind him, newspaper folded tightly in his fist. The trip through the beautiful Japan would've been pleasant if Yuri hadn't dozed off every 10 seconds. He didn't get much sleep after all. He spent at least three hours thinking about the special surprise and raiding the free mini bar before he finally got to rest. At 8am he was woken up with banging on the door and now, at 10am, he was standing at the entrance of Hot Springs waiting for Yuuri's mom to announce their arrival. She hurried away somewhere with her usual bubbly happy self that Yuri had no idea how a person could be so... not moody all day long.

The place was as crowded with customers as last time and the two Russians were told to step inside to the more private parts of the building where the family lived along with Victor at the moment.

"Victor! How come my brand new lotion is used? You smelled a suspicious amount of peaches and wild berries at breakfast and there's no point denying it!" A fairly soft and modulated voice was heard from somewhere to the left where the private shower stalls were located. A couple seconds later a giggly Victor and Yuuri came through the direction of the living room and greeted Yuri with happy cheers. The slender white haired Russian caught Yakov in a bear hug, much to the old man's surprise. Yuuri extended his hand towards Yuri but Yuri didn't give any effort in taking it.

"Food. I'm starving."

Yuuri dropped his hand with a light blush but Victor pouted and let go of his former coach. Strong and clingy arms were suddenly wrapped around his chest and he couldn't breathe.

"So unpolite... Yuriooo we've missed you! Haven't you missed us?"

Yuri thrashed like a fish caught in a net and tried to hit the arms of the bastard trapping him. Yuuri joined in, only to get a kick in the hip. His stomach growled angrily and the endless void in his body didn't lighten up the experience a bit.

"Let go you old man! You too piglet!"

"I hoped you'd say it out loud but I know that deep down you've been missing us, Yuriii." Victor went to whisper in his ear with pouty lips but was swatted away by a backhand in his face. That finally caused him to let go and Yuri jumped out of reach for the two males.

"Hm... Or not." The expression he got from Victor was sad and pouty and the man earned a hand on his shoulder, put there by Yuuri. Yuri could only sigh and shake his head.

"Victor! Did you steal my shampoo too?! I will- Oh? What now?" Yuri turned around abruptly by the unfamiliar yet familiar voice behind him. His eyes widened.

The girl was standing to the left of the hall, seemingly coming from the shower. A curious hand rested against the wall beside her and her face was covered in a grey clay face mask, a toothbrush lazily hanging from the corner of her lips. Her (h/c) eyes glistened with mild shock along with her mouth hanging slightly open.

"You are early... Victor, you told me they would arrive at 1pm1!" She pointed a strict finger at the tall man who scratched the back of his head with a hesitant laugh. Her eyes narrowed and she grabbed her toothbrush. Because even if she was standing unprepared in front of two strangers, she would at least not forget to brush her teeth in the process, as you do.

Yuri might've considered it normal if it wasn't for that she was almost naked. Two towels were the only fabric hiding her, one wrapped around her dripping figure and the other tied up in her hair.

"Yeah, about that! I kind of mixed up the time of their arrival and your meeting with the press, that's, by the way now when I think of it, not actually cancelled but later today. Silly of me to forget, right?"

She eyed him as though her bullshit meter was ticking in the red zone and let out a huff. Yuri had to advert his gaze when it suddenly felt intruding to eye her the way he did. He also turned away because a light tint of pink was creeping up his cheeks.

"Right. Thanks for the early update. I appreciate it, really. I'll be with you again in 30 minutes. Don't wait up for me." And with that, she was gone. The silence of the men maintained for a few moments until Yuuri coughed with an awkward smile, his red cheeks still visible even after the girl had disappeared. 'It's a little weird to blush at your almost naked sister' he thought.

"So food, right? Mom is preparing pork cutlet bowls for you, Yurio, since she remembered how much you liked them last time-" He didn't have to say it twice. Yuri was off to the dining area before the man even finished saying 'pork cutlet bowl'.

#yuri plisetsky #yuri plisetsky x reader #yuriart #yuri katsuki #yuri on ice #victor nikirofov #anime fanfic #animelove #fanfiction

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itstittycitybaby · 4 years

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From the Ashes We are Born (Part 5)

a/n: take fucking two of posting this bc tumblr likes to fuck me over djdjjdjd. something that always bothered me with evey is the fact she left V?? I get not wanting to be stuck with a stranger for an entire year but you were the one who maced the cop. you decided to do it not v. he did not ask u to. now v torturing her there's not rlly a jusitifed excuse even though i can see why but it's still not justified either way. anyways as always enjoy.

Summary: V is away tending to his daily anarchist duties, which leaves you facing the wake of a treacherous thunder storm alone! Fluff ensues.

a/n 2: oh my god. i finally got the fucking gifs to work. had to navigate back and forth i stg I'm gonna dethrone the Tumblr god.

The music from your phone played throughout the deafening silence of the gallery. The infamously known masked criminal had left the gallery to commit his “righteous duties”. That’s how your friend, V, put it anyways. London was weeping over its people, at least, that’s what V had said once he heard the rain slapping the roof. Why can’t he just say it’s pouring, you thought to yourself as V fluttered about the house. “Dramatic as always V,” you snickered as you stood there watching him preparing to leave. You had been staying in the Shadow Gallery for a few months now. You weren’t very stoked to having to stay here for a year, but you had to. After all, you had sealed your fate after macing that cop. Even though you were upset about having to be stuck here away from your paints and gaming consoles, you understood. It was your decision to save him, he hadn’t asked you too.

V’s underground home was deadly quiet as he got ready. The playful aura and laughter was now gone. It felt lonely and cold, something you guessed V had felt before you arrived. “Hey V,” you asked, fidgeting with the flowy skirt you wore. “Yes?” The man in question picked up his notorious black hat and put it on top of his head. He smoothed his hair and turned to you after looking in the mirror once more. “C-can I,” you started, cheeks flushing a bright pink, “Can I have a hug?” You felt awkward as you stood there playing with your skirt. V didn’t say anything as he stared at you. The smiling mask was unsettling to look at with the awkward air and embarrassment you felt. “Y-y'know what, forget I asked,” you stammered, starting to turn before throwing a “good luck and goodbye” kinda thing. You heard him sigh. V wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to his chest. The scent of lemon and the smell of pine made you hum. Your arms snaked around his middle as you stood there, together in front of the T.V. You were thankful V couldn’t see your beet red face. His mask rested atop your head and you shivered at the rumble of his chest as he spoke. “Forgive me, I was taken aback is all.” You pulled away a bit looking at the eyes of his mask. “It’s alright, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” “Nonsense my dear, you have yet to do so.” Oh we definitely have a crush. You pulled away giving him a smile. “Be safe okay V? I mean it. If you come home almost dead on the porch again, so help me, your bullet wounds won’t be the thing killing you.” V laughed, the sound of it making your heart giddy. “Of course, mademoiselle.” The tension between the two you was thick, neither of you breaking eye contact. Feeling bold, you grasped V’s shoulder with your hand and stood on your tippy toes. “D-dove-,” he started. You interrupted him, though. Your soft lips placed themselves on the cheek of his mask. “A good luck charm,” you said softly as you pulled away. Giving V’s shoulder one last squeeze, you let him go. “I shall return soon,” V said as he left. You scolded him again about being reckless, and to be safe . Your heart sank as V’s echoing footsteps faded away leaving you standing alone and cold.

“ I love you baby , and if it’s quite alright I need you baby,” you sang as you grabbed the acrylic paint V had gotten for you. The clock read 1:54 on the wall while the rain continued to pour outside into the night. V had yet to return from doing god knows what in the streets. The smears of white and red paint were splattered across your arms and thighs. The scent of paint and V’s musky smell mixed together as you painted. Your arms and body tingled from the warm embrace he had given you. Thoughts of V took over as your paint brush made graceful strokes on the canvas. Did he even like you back? “As if,” you huffed. “He’s a man with taste.” But what about the pet names? And the flowers! He brings us flowers once he comes back. “He’s british, being called love and darling is something normal here. The flowers don’t mean anything. It’s not like an obvious red rose or anything,” you told yourself. Stop daydreaming and just accept the fact that V doesn’t like you like in that way.

4:33 . “Where the hell is he,” you muttered. The rain continued to pour outside. Your canvas was set drying on the table and you flipped through your phone to entertain yourself. Thank god for a VPN. You laughed at a funny meme as you scrolled through your feed. The lights flickered. You sucked in a breath and waited. CRASH! You jumped at the loud bang of thunder. Trying to calm yourself down, you continued to scroll through Twitter. The anxiety in your stomach wouldn’t stop eating away. V was out there in this godforsaken storm. What if he got hurt? What if he died? “Stop,” you told yourself sternly. “He’ll be fine.”

Pop! Darkness embraced you as you sat there. The lights are out. Your breaths became shallow; the dim white light of your phone providing some kind of light source. “Calm down,” you whispered. “We’re gonna be fine.” Turning on your phone’s flashlight and using it as a torch, you crept to the bedroom. Loud crashes and noises made your hair stand up on end. Loud noises meant trouble. Loud noises meant a tantrum from your dad had started or something was here, waiting . Silence meant peace. Silence meant safety.

There was some sense of relief as you made it to the room and closed the door. Diving under the blankets, you whimpered as lightning struck. You curled into yourself and laid there. Hoping that the storm would pass, or V would come home. His scent on the sheets was the only solace you had. He will come home, eventually. You wished for V’s arms to hold and comfort you like the very few times he did before. Usually after a panic attack or when you were at the lowest of your lows. You wanted him to finish reading Lord of the Rings to you and help lull you to sleep. But V wasn’t here. V wasn’t going to hold you, or read you to sleep. He was out saving the country he so loved from it’s awful dictator. You’re weak. V wouldn’t want someone weak. He wants someone brave, and courageous. Someone who’s willing to die for what they love.

A sob bubbled up in your throat and tears threatened to escape from your eyes. You couldn’t breathe; you felt suffocated under the sheets, but if you moved you’d be open, vulnerable. Vulnerability is a weakness, being sad and scared is a weakness. How disgusting you must have looked. Hiding like a small child from the scary monster in their closet. How disgusted would V be if he found you here, under his sheets that were now wet with tears. We need to calm down. We need to stop crying. How pathetic we must look right now. He should’ve left you in that station to die. You deserve to die, you deserve to- .

“Love?” V’s voice broke your thoughts. He sounded so soft and gentle. You cursed at yourself for not noticing the door opening. Now he was going to see how pathetic you really were. V’s black boots slid across the floor when he made way into the room.You felt the bed dip beside you as you laid there. Your breath caught in your throat as you laid there silently under the sheets. Please go away, please don’t uncover the sheets. The cool air hit you as V pulled the sheets back. Cursing at your luck, you took a peak. Funny how creepy the smiling mask was in the dark. V’s hat was still perched on his head, you realized. His gloved fist was curled around something in his hand. A rose.

“My songbird, what is the matter,” V asked as he took in your tear stricken face. The moonlight shone onto your beautiful face, revealing the wetness of your cheeks. How beautiful you were. V felt guilty once he saw you huddled under the covers, hiding from something. Could it be from yourself? “You’re late,” you croaked, “it’s almost 5 am.” “I apologize my dear, something went a bit south.” You didn’t say anything. Your eyes clenched shut and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip from trembling. V’s head cocked to the side, his lips pulled into a frown underneath the mask. He called out your name. The softness and caring tone made your eyes snap back at him. Suddenly, a crash of thunder hit. You flinched and wormed yourself underneath the sheets even more. V simultaneously realized, at that very moment, how terrified you were of thunder. He felt stupid as he sat there, staring at your shaking form. Of course you would try to seek out comfort whenever you were scared or moody. Hiding was your last resort if there was no comfort to be found. A hand stroked your head causing you to tense up.

The leather of the glove felt cool, and smooth. Brows drawn, you looked up at V. His right arm extended to you, with the gift he had brought. “V,” you whispered as you stared at him with shock. You gently wrapped your hand around the stem, taking it from his hands. “An apology for returning so late…and to ask for a courtship. With you,” V stammered. Even with the mask, you knew V was flustered. “It’s about time,” you joked, your voice a bit hoarse. “Ah yes, well you see I was so nervous and I-I've never-” You cut him off with your lips. The odd but smooth material of the mask’s lips felt foreign against your soft, warm ones.

V didn’t even have to feel your lips to know they were the softest thing to exist. He just knew. You pulled away slowly, your cheeks warming up a bit. You were bashful, a gentle smile swept across your lips. “Thank you for the rose, it’s beautiful.” “My beautiful maiden, it is quite dark in here. You could not be quite sure of such a thing.” “I’ll kiss you again, V.” You giggled, as he shut up.

“Close your eyes and keep them closed,” V said. You looked at him confused, “Why?” “I have another gift.” A brow was raised in his direction. He just gestured at you, waiting patiently. “You’re acting pretty sus not gonna lie, but ok.” Your eyes fluttered shut. Time seemed to pass by awfully slow as you waited. Not to mention, the dark that encased you as your lids closed. “V?” “I’m right here love.” You heard something untying and felt something being placed on the bed. How badly you wanted to open your eyes, but you would not betray V like that. The smoothness of his gloves grasped both of your cheeks softly. His fingers stroked them and held cupped your cheeks. You screwed your eyes shut, fighting the urge to open them. What was he doing? Your breath stopped at a halt; his breath was on your lips. He’s going to kiss me! His mask is off! You swallowed nervously as you waited. That’s when you felt it.

V’s lips were rough and felt scarred. The texture was very different from your own, but you didn’t care. In fact, you cherished it. A sigh escaped your lips as your fingers clutched his cloak, pulling him closer. Teeth nibbled at your lips playfully. V’s scent filled your senses and you felt your head starting to become dizzy. You almost whined once his lips pulled away from yours. Eyes still closed, you waited for the signal to open them again. Your ears perked up as you heard the rustling of cloth and a little grunt from V. “Thank you darling, you can open your eyes again.” There were little dots and squiggles as you opened your eyes, moving in the air. You were a little sad to see the mask on again, but knew better than to press. V would give you the world, but he was still insecure about his skin. You were curious to see him, especially after the glimpse of damaged skin you had seen on his hands. But, you knew better than to ask, let alone force him to show you.

V placed his hat on the bedside table next to him. He was surprised to find you had fallen asleep, though it was quite late. He quietly shimmied out of his cloak and set his knives down on the nightstand. A sigh escaped his lips as he got into more comfortable clothing, followed by discarding his gloves on the table beside him. You had wrapped V around your finger; encasing him with your humour and your kindness. He was at your mercy. You had captivated the man who thought he could no longer feel love. Oh how wrong he was. V wrapped his arms around you and held you close. His art swelled a bit at the sleepy hum you gave him. Your head rested lightly on V’s chest and his arms snuggled you tightly. Your soft snores filled the room once again and V couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Eventually, the masked vigilante fell asleep; the comfort of your love and beauty keeping him warm at night.

#v for vendetta #v for vendetta x reader #x reader

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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

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Written In The Stars CXIX (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

Words: 3,473

Series’ Masterlist

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Listen to: ‘Like To Be You’ -by Shawn Mendes ft. Julia Michaels

Chapter Seventeen: Resolutions.

"So here's the plan," Mel whispered to Hermione as they followed Hagrid deeper into the forest, "if things get out of control, make sure everyone goes back safely and I obliviate them as soon as we reach the castle..."

"Don't be stupid," Hermione said. "Now's not the time for jokes. Oh, I really hope Hagrid knows what he's doing!"

"Gather roun', gather roun'," said Hagrid. "Now, they'll be attracted by the smell o' the meat but I'm goin' ter give 'em a call anyway, 'cause they'll like ter know it's me..."

He let out a high-pitched shout and everyone stood there in anxious silence waiting to see what would happen. Mel's ears picked up the sound of dead leaves crunching, even though no one seemed to be moving. She heard a quiet huff and a few branches breaking.

"Why doesn't Hagrid call again?" Ron whispered beside her.

She felt someone press against her and she jumped lightly, Neville had found his way towards her and now was tightly gripping her arm. He was staring at some point a few feet away from them. That's when she remembered something from the first night back in the castle, when Harry had mentioned something about... what was it? A horse?

She turned to look at him, Harry was eagerly looking around, trying to see if someone else was noticing. Mel spoke up.

"What are they?" It had been a long time since she'd heard her own voice sounding so frightened.

"Oh, an' here comes another one!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Now... put yer hands up, who can see 'em?"

A total of three people raised their hands. Neville, Harry, and a Slytherin boy.

"Yeah... yeah, I knew you'd be able ter, Harry," Hagrid grumbled. "An' you too, Neville, eh? An' —"

"Excuse me, but what exactly are we supposed to be seeing?" Malfoy sneered.

Mel watched the meat Hagrid had thrown onto the grass as it was ripped off piece by piece by some invisible creature, Parvati gasped.

"What's doing it? What's eating it?" She asked in terror.

"Thestrals," said Hagrid. "Hogwarts has got a whole herd of 'em in here. Now, who knows — ?"

"But they're really, really unlucky!" Parvati exclaimed. "They're supposed to bring all sorts of horrible misfortune on people who see them. Professor Trelawney told me once —"

"No, no, no! Tha's jus' superstition, that is, they aren' unlucky, they're dead clever an' useful! 'Course, this lot don' get a lot o' work, it's mainly jus' pullin' the school carriages unless Dumbledore's takin' a long journey an' don' want ter Apparate — an' here's another couple, look —"

Parvati yelped. "I think I felt something, I think it's near me!"

"Don' worry, it won' hurt yeh," Hagrid smiled. "Righ', now, who can tell me why some o' you can see them an' some can't?" Hermione raised a hand. "Go on then."

"The only people who can see thestrals are people who have seen death."

Mel should've known that a creature with such fame had to be related to death. Still, far from scared, Mel was intrigued, she knew what it would take to be able to see them, and yet, part of her wished she could.

"Tha's exactly right. Ten points ter Gryffindor. Now, thestrals —"

"Hem, hem." An unpleasant tension settled on Mel's shoulders. Umbridge had arrived. "Hem, hem."

"Oh hello!" Hagrid beamed.

"You received the note I sent to your cabin this morning? Telling you that I would be inspecting your lesson?"

Mel didn't like the way Umbridge talked to him, she clenched her fists and took a deep breath.

"Oh yeah! Glad yeh found the place all righ'! Well, as you can see — or, I dunno — can you? We're doin' thestrals today —"

"I'm sorry?" Umbridge dramatically leaned forward and put a hand on her ear. "What did you say?"

Mel gripped the hand that Neville kept firmly around her forearm.

"Er — thestrals!" Hagrid repeated loudly. "Big — er — winged horses, yeh know!"

Hagrid flapped his arms as if they were wings, Umbridge quickly started to write that down.

"'has... to... resort... to... crude... sign... language...'"

"Well... anyway..." said Hagrid, blushing a little. "Erm... what was I sayin'?"

"'Appears... to... have... poor... short... term... memory...'"

She hadn't been so rude to any of the other teachers and Mel was wondering exactly why was she giving Hagrid such a terrible time when it came to her. Of course, she hated Hagrid, at this point everyone knew he was a half-giant and Umbridge was the biggest piece of racist rubbish she'd ever met, she wanted to get rid of him.

"Please continue teaching as usual. I am going to walk" She pretended to walk. "among the students... and ask them questions."

"Neville," Mel whispered. "I need you to let go of my arm."

"Why?"

"Because if I blow up, I don't want to get you in trouble," She growled.

"Do you find that you are able to understand Professor Hagrid when he talks?" Umbridge asked out loud to Pansy.

"No... because... well... it sounds... like grunting a lot of the time..." Pansy was shaking with silent laughter.

"Don't do it, Mel!" Neville warned her. "If you get in trouble you won't be able to attend the D.A. this week!"

"Er... yeah... good stuff abou' thestrals. Well, once they're tamed, like this lot, yeh'll never be lost again. 'Mazin' senses o' direction, jus' tell 'em where yeh want ter go —"

"Assuming they can understand you, of course," said Malfoy.

Mel made a movement to reach for her wand and Neville gripped her arm with unexpected strength. That caught Umbridge attention, she walked up to them with a smile.

"You can see the thestrals, Longbottom, can you? Whom did you see die?"

"That's a personal question," Mel replied. "I don't think Neville has to answer that if he doesn't want to."

Umbridge raised a brow with disinterest.

"You can't see them, Miss Dumbledore, am I correct? Well, at least that's one mental detriment we don't have to worry about in you..."

"Excuse m—" Mel started, but Neville was quick to step in.

"My grandad," He retorted. "That's whom I saw..."

"And what do you think of them?" Umbridge acted like her insult to Mel hadn't happened.

"Erm," Neville glanced between Mel and Hagrid. "Well, they're... er... okay..."

"'Students... are... too... intimidated... to... admit... they... are... frightened...'" muttered Umbridge, scribbling it down furiously.

"No!" Neville frowned. "No, I'm not scared of them — !"

"It's quite all right," Umbridge patted Neville's shoulder and Mel glared at the woman wishing she could do something. "Well, Hagrid, I think I've got enough to be getting along with... You will receive... the results of your inspection... in ten days' time."

She lifted all her fingers, smiling in that cold way of hers.

"I'm sorry," Neville mumbled next to her. "I didn't want to..."

"It wasn't your fault," Mel said roughly. Neville flinched, and she immediately softened her tone, reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze a little. "You did nothing wrong, Nev."

"That foul, lying, twisting old gargoyle! You see what she's up to? It's her thing about half-breeds all over again — she's trying to make out Hagrid's some kind of dim-witted troll, just because he had a giantess for a mother — and oh, it's not fair, that really wasn't a bad lesson at all — I mean, all right, if it had been Blast-Ended Skrewts again, but thestrals are fine — in fact, for Hagrid, they're really good!" Hermione rambled as they made their way back to the castle.

"Umbridge said they're dangerous," said Ron.

"What does that bitter fat rat knows about magical creatures?" Mel spat. "I'm with Hagrid here, those are all superstitions..."

"Well, it's like Hagrid said, they can look after themselves," Hermione nodded in agreement, "and I suppose a teacher like Grubbly-Plank wouldn't usually show them to us before N.E.W.T. level, but, well, they are very interesting, aren't they? The way some people can see them and some can't! I wish I could."

"Do you?" Harry asked carefully.

Hermione winced.

"Oh Harry — I'm sorry — no, of course I don't — that was a really stupid thing to say —"

"It's okay, don't worry..."

"I'm surprised so many people could see them," said Ron. "Three in a class —"

"Neville was extremely sweet, helping Hagrid out and trying to keep me away from detention," Mel lowered her gaze, her fists tightly closed. "I'm so sick of that woman..."

"Weasley, we were just wondering," Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were walking up to them. "D'you reckon if you saw someone snuff it you'd be able to see the Quaffle better?"

"That's rich coming from you, you puny ferret— Did the beating Harry and George gave you whipped the memories of your lack of skill?"

Malfoy's smile faltered a bit, but it didn't vanish.

"Moody, are we?" He said. "I'd be too if I were losing my marbles..."

Ron made an attempt to move but Hermione and Harry held him back. Mel glared at the Slytherins as they walked past them.

"One day," She said through gritted teeth. "One day I'll get him... and Umbridge too."

"Peeves, this is my last warning!" Mel warned as the poltergeist attempted to strangle Ron with tinsel. "Go away or I'll make a fanged frisbee follow you for the rest of the year!"

Peeves stuck out his tongue but flew out of the Great Hall anyway. She was helping with the Christmas decorations, Flitwick had asked the prefects to lend a hand and so Ron and Hermione had been expected as well as Erick, though he had to keep his distance. Mel noticed he was more tired and jumpy than usual.

"You know, I have to admit it," Hermione said as she handed a few fairy lights to her. "I was worried about you dating Fred— Thought you'd get out of control, but you're getting better!"

"What do you mean?"

"She means you don't fight people as much as you used to," Ron replied bluntly. "By people, she means Harry."

"Yeah well, we don't talk at all," Mel shrugged. "Can we not discuss this? I don't feel comfortable discussing my love life..."

"I don't love talking about you snogging one of my brothers either," Ron scoffed. "Can't say I hadn't seen this coming though, I knew this would happen, Fred and George always flirt with you..."

"They flirt with everyone," She clarified. "They even tried to flirt his way out of detention with McGonagall once."

"That was different," Ron rolled his eyes. "They were joking then, with you it was clearly intentional."

"Clear, was it?" Mel snorted. "How come you're suddenly an expert?"

"I've always been good at it when it comes to you and my brothers," He replied matter-of-factly. "You were really obvious."

"You want to talk about obvious?" She glanced at Hermione to make sure she was distracted. "You really want to go there, Ronnie? I can list all the times you've been obvious..."

Ron's eyes widened.

"Either way," He quickly changed the subject. "Hermione's right. You're in a better mood now, and if dating my brother does that to you, then I have no problem with it."

"How kind of you," The girl replied distractedly

"You and I," Ginny sat down in front of her. "We're trying for the Quidditch team."

Mel choked on her pumpkin juice.

"What gave you that idea?"

"You have pent-up anger and being able to push someone out of their broom might help," Ginny smirked.

Mel lowered the book she'd been reading and thought about it. Hadn't she dreamed about trying out for the team a year prior? Well, yeah, but only because Harry said she could be a great addition. It didn't mean she was good... but it didn't hurt to try, though.

"Dunno, Ginny," She bit her lip. "I have so much to do already..."

"C'mon!" The girl insisted. "How many times have we stayed up till late talking about it? I know it's not exactly how we planned it, but we can't give away our chance!"

Hadn't she said she would find a way to get back at Malfoy and Umbridge? This was her chance, she could drag Malfoy's butt on the field.

"Oh, all right," Mel groaned. "But not a word of this to anyone! I don't want more people breathing on my neck, I have enough with them waiting to catch me and Fred snogging in the halls!"

"It's kind of weird how you never kiss," Ginny mentioned, a little giggle escaping her lips. "Never thought Fred wasn't into public displays of affection..."

"Oh, he is," Mel raised a brow. "But I refuse to give a show."

Most people were rendered speechless with Ginny's display, she had a natural talent. When it was her turn, Angelina asked what place she wanted.

"Er..." Mel shrugged. "I guess beater would be okay?"

"Really?" Angelina frowned. "You and Ginny are small and not too strong... the both of you are great options to be seekers."

"I suppose that's true," Mel looked back at her friend, who was watching from the stands. "Well, if you take both of us we can take turns to be seekers and beaters."

She'd meant that as a joke, but Angelina's eyes shone with excitement.

"You're right I could. You don't need to be all muscle to be a beater, you just need to have a decent aim... Okay, Mel, show me what you got and I might consider your idea."

First, she tried her skills as seeker and released the snitch at the other side of the field, throwing golf balls to distract her and see if she'd lose sight of the golden orb, but it was hard to miss its glint between a bunch of white dirty balls. She did this a total of four times. Nothing too impressive, two times the snitch was close to escaping, but she put up a good fight.

Then she was placed in the beater position, she was a bit clumsier with the bat and she didn't have the deathly aim George and Fred had, but she figured she could develop a decent one with time. It was up to Angelina though, Mel could only hope she hadn't looked like a complete idiot.

"Okay, gather round!" Angelina called after a few minutes.

Ginny and Mel stood side by side, holding hands and squeezing.

"Thank you all for coming," Angelina continued. "I've made a decision. It's my duty to choose those that did it best..."

Mel held her breath, already thinking about how the twins were going to tease her once they'd found out she'd been rejected.

"WE MADE IT!" Ginny was jumping around happily.

Mel was elated, she laughed loudly and let her friend do all the noise. She still couldn't believe she wasn't dreaming, she was part of the Quidditch team!

Officially, Ginny had the Seeker spot and Mel was beater along with Jack Sloper, but Ginny promised to take turns even if Mel had insisted on letting her take the spot completely.

"It's better this way," Ginny discussed. "If we practice in both, we'll be brilliant in more than one way!"

Mel was still flushed red and sweaty when she walked into the castle, she couldn't wait to find the twins and tell them the news...

"I'll go grab us something to eat on our the way to the D.A. meeting, keep going!" Ginny turned around and rushed to the Great Hall.

Mel kept walking, an easy-going smile on her face as she replayed the events of that morning, she felt herself floating, happier than she'd felt in weeks. Things were starting to get better, she was popular, and now she was part of the team, what else could she—

"Erick?" She watched as the boy appeared around the corner, his eyes glued to the parchment on his hands. "Erick, you won't guess what just happened!"

Forgetting all about discretion, Mel ran up to him ready to talk about the tryouts. Then, as she got closer, she noticed his face was strangely pale, and he was shaking.

"What's wrong?"

The boy looked up to her but his eyes were lacking their usual presence. His gaze was absent, when he opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out. Erick cleared his throat and tried again.

"I... I just got this," He said. "During lunch... I went to the owlery to send a letter to Joseph... though probably my parents sent a letter to my aunt as well..."

"What is it?" She insisted.

Erick blinked furiously, and it was then she realized he was trying not to cry.

"I... I have to..." He cleared his throat again and shook his head. "My grandad, he..."

"I'm sorry," She said, skimming through the contents of the letter in shock. "I don't know what to say..."

"Mel!" Ginny appeared again, holding two sandwiches. "There you are! C'mon, we need to hurry!"

Mel gave a start, but Ginny didn't seem to notice Erick as she ran up to her and caught her arm, dragging her away from the boy. Mel barely had time to return the letter before Ginny pulled harder.

"What are you doing? Hurry, the meeting starts in five minutes!"

Mel was going to protest and go back to the boy, she looked over her shoulder to call his name and realized he was gone, she didn't know how he'd managed to disappear so quickly. She let Ginny take her away, thinking that tomorrow she would hopefully have the right words to comfort him.

When they arrived at the room of requirement Mel had finished eating even though it all had tasted like cardboard. She was no longer excited for her new position as a beater, and she wanted nothing but to end the meeting so she could go and look for her friend. He needed her.

"Okay," Harry started. "I thought this evening we should just go over the things we've done so far because it's the last meeting before the holidays and there's no point starting anything new right before a three-week break. What d'you think, Mel?"

"Hmm?" She looked up, desperately trying to remember what the hell Harry'd been saying. "Yeah, that's fine..." She replied absently, Harry stared at her with a small frown.

"We're not doing anything new?" Zacharias Smith asked in annoyance. "If I'd known that, I wouldn't have come..."

"We're all really sorry Harry and Mel didn't tell you, then," said Fred.

"We can practice in pairs," Harry continued, realizing Mel wasn't going to be helpful that night. "We'll start with the Impediment Jinx, just for ten minutes, then we can get out the cushions and try Stunning again."

While the group divided into pairs, Harry pulled her away from the crowd discretely.

"Mel," He repeated, his tone urgent. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," She blinked. "I just... I ran into Erick a few minutes ago..."

"Did he upset you?" Harry scowled. "What did he do?"

"Nothing," She grabbed his hand and pulled it away from her. "He got a letter this morning... his Grandad... I just need a moment, I'll be fine."

"...You can leave if you want."

"They need me here."

"You need a break."

"Look who's talking," Mel said defensively. "Why do you care, anyway? You've been ignoring me for weeks, please continue."

Harry stepped back taken by her sudden outburst.

"Fine," He eyed her up, then added carefully, "...I heard you got a place on the team. That's excellent."

"Yeah," She said shortly. "I'm a Beater, like my mum."

"Angelina said you and Ginny were taking turns to be seekers. You'll be wonderful, I'm sure."

He was trying to be polite, he could see she was in distress and wanted to distract her, even if she was doing all in her power to upset him. Harry had to stop a groan from falling out of his lips, he had no idea of how to talk to her now, it was as if they no longer knew each other.

"You know," The boy continued over her silence, not knowing why he was trying so hard to cheer her up. "They've come a long way, haven't they? I think we're making a difference, even if it didn't look like it at first..."

Her eyes landed on Neville as he successfully managed to freeze Ron in place for a second time. She thought back on the little shy thing he used to be, and how confident he looked then. A small glimmer of optimism peeked through Mel's sense of hopelessness, and somehow, Harry felt it too.

"Yeah..." She smiled lightly. "I think you may be right..."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

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pagingevilspawn · 3 years

Text

Loving You Is A Losing Game- chapter seven

i actually hate this, so ew. but i’ve forgotten that i write, so i’ll try to type some stuff up tomorrow! regardless, i hope everyone enjoys! click here to read on ao3.

TW// domestic abuse

~*~

"small town boy in a big arcade. i got addicted to a losing game."

~*~

alexandra: you do realize how crazy that sounds right?

joseph: it's not crazy at all if you ask me.

alexandra: jo, asking for lollipops for your christmas present sounds very crazy to me.

and christmas isn't for like, a while.

joseph: dude, christmas is in two weeks and one day

and plus, i'm settling on lollipops. what i really want is a pony, a shiny, pretty one with rainbow hair, you know those? that's my dream right there

alexandra: oh crap really?

yeah yeah, ha ha. laughing so much right now.

joseph: hate to break it to you, but it's the 10th alex.

and i know, what a shame i wont be able to have my pony. it was at the top of my list this year

next to an ice cream sundae the size of manhattan, obviously.

alexandra: very funny. can't you tell how much i'm laughing.

crap, got to go, robbins is letting me in on an esophageal atresia on a newborn. i'm her favorite you know.

joseph: ugh, lucky.

make sure to kick ass and not kill anyone. that would suck.

actually... your big head could use some ego deflating. make sure robbins has to save you halfway through. maybe then you'll earn some humility.

alexandra: wow, you're such great help. so nice too.

joseph: you know it ;)

she turns off her phone, a small smile on her face as she looks out the window, passing by houses that all looked exactly alike; white exteriors with a bright green lawn. the only thing that could help someone tell them apart was the door colors. her and paul had just come back from a dinner with some of his coworkers, but he wasn't talking to her so she decided to text alex. the silence in the car was tense, though she was unable to grasp the reason why.

they'd been texting non-stop since the conference three weeks ago, talking about each other's days, complaining about annoying coworkers and classmates. they really enjoyed having a friend they could just talk to because they felt like it. it was refreshing. they'd never had anyone like that before. in the past they had friends that they felt comfortable around, but it was different when you had someone who understood you so well. not to mention, being able to make self deprecating jokes about their crappy childhoods and receive a laugh in response was so much nicer than the pity stares they were both so used to getting,

she snaps back to reality at the sound of the engine turning off, cutting the music as the expensive car door opens. she sees paul angrily walk out of the car, slamming the door behind him, not stopping by her side of the car to open the door for her like he normally did. (she was actually thankful for that. she was a grown women, she could open a damn door herself)

weird, she thinks, but decides not to question it. her husband had been a bit more moody and temperamental lately, so she supposed it was just that. but the dinner seemed to go really good in her opinion. she got along with his colleagues and paul certainly enjoyed himself, getting to be around all his coworkers and interact freely. she liked to think that his colleagues liked her as well. they complimented her all evening and included her in all of their conversations. though, she did wish that they would've referred to her by her name more, rather than 'mrs. stalder' or 'paul's wife.'

she gets out of the passenger side and shuts the door behind her, walking up to the steps after she hears that paul had locked the car. she places the small clutch she had on the entry table and walks to the kitchen, seeing paul sitting at the kitchen island, nothing in front of him except tea that he had heated up in the minute or so he'e been in there. she kisses his cheek and starts talking, knowing that it would probably help calm whatever he was feeling.

she gives him a smile, rubbing his shoulder affectionately. "it seemed like the dinner went really well, all of your coworkers are super nice and-"

"you talked to steven too much." he cuts her off, sending an icy glare her way, and look she had never seen on him before shining darkly in his eyes.

she cocks her head to the side, "huh?"

he stands up from his place abruptly, making her jump back slightly. "i said," he spits out, eyes narrowing as he stares her down "you talked to steven too much."

she lets out a loud laugh, thinking that he was just joking around and messing with her. at any second he was going to join her giggling, ignoring the way his eyes had only seemed to darken the second the sounds had escaped her mouth."oh, that's funny." she says in between laughs, eyes shining with childish glee. "jesus you really scared m-"

pain.

her words get cut off by a fist coming directly into contact with her face. she feels the stinging sensation burn from her eye to her cheek, her brown eyes watering with tears as she realizes what had just happened. she lifts a palm up to touch it protectively, almost making it seem like it was more real if she touched it.

oh god, it hurt. it hurt like hell. his gold wedding band adding to the impact was sure to leave a scar by the corner of her eye. she'd been punched before, multiple times actually by foster parents and girls while she was in high school, but this hurt so much more. it was so much harder than she'd ever been hit before.

her husband just hit her.

"oh brooke, baby." paul says, taking her into his arms and brushing her hair back immediately, trying to get her to relax into his embrace. "i just got so mad. you just made me so mad brooke. you can't make me mad like that" he tells her, eyes dripping with some kind of emotion she can't place as he places light kisses on top of her sea of brown curls, ignoring the way the way she stood stiffly in his arms, a few lone tears making it's way down her cheeks.

"i love you. you know that brooke" he whispers, wiping the tears from her face, his hands feeling usually rough against her skin, his touch not easing over the bruise that hard already begun to form.

she nods. it was okay. he loved her. he didn't mean it. he just got angry. it was okay. it was fine. he loved her, it was okay.

she thought she probably deserved it. after all she'd cheated on her husband just three weeks before, and had continued to keep in contact with the man she had cheated with. it was only karma.

"i'm sorry paul." she apologizes sincerely as he cups her face in his hands, giving her a sweet smile. it wasn't his fault. it was hers.

"it just better not happen again." he states, eyes burning into hers intently, his grip on her face tightening without her even realizing it. all she really felt was numb, as if all of her senses had seemingly shut down to avoid dealing with the pain that was spreading throughout the side of her face.

she nods her head up and down as she pulls her back into him. "i'm sorry" she whispers into his chest.

he smiled.

and that's when he knew he had her.

____

alex finished scrubbing out of a surgery, shaking off the excess water on his hands, grinning internally. it was always so much better when he was able to help save a kid. the success was just that much more fulfilling. he's about to push the door open when it swings in itself, making him come face to face with cristina, the expression she was wearing was more worried looking than he'd seen in a long time. he'd known yang for a while know, and he knew whatever was about to come out of her mouth would be bad. cristina yang was never worried.

"what do you want yang?" he asks, noting how she had her hands crossed over her chest and was avoiding his gaze.

"there's a merger happening." she says, looking up to meet his eyes to let him know that she was serious.

his narrows his eyes, scrunching up his nose. "what?" he questions. a merger? as in, combing two hospitals into one?

"you just missed the announcement. apparently we're merging with mercy west." the raven head repeats, a slight trace of fear in her voice, a very unusual thing for cristina yang.

he lets out a deep breath, tugging his scrub cap off and running a hand through his hair as he leans over the scrub sink, gripping it so tightly his knuckles begin to turn white. "i can't loose this job yang." he says to her softly, making her nod in agreement.

"you and me both." with that she walks out of the room, alex not far behind her, both of the surgeons heading up to the resident's lounge to change, which was filled to the brim with chatter, all of the doctors talking about the newest topic, the merger.

meredith sits down next to him, slipping a long sleeved purple shirt over her head when she casts a glance to alex, who was sitting still looking down at his phone's empty screen, seemingly deep in thought, almost as if he was waiting for something to magically appear on it.

the blonde nudges him, snapping him out of his trance. alex sighs, resting his elbows on his knees as he buries his head in his hands. "what am i gonna do about iz?" he asks her, judging by her face that she was drawing a blank, much like him.

jesus, this was great. these past few weeks he had hardy been able to look his wife in the eye, because every time he saw her he was reminded that he slept with someone else. not to mention, he was just texting that certain someone just a few hours ago. he was really screwed. izzie had currently been home on bedrest, not being allowed to return to work until two weeks from now, which apparently would also be when the mercy westers would turn up. fucking great. he felt as if the universe was rallying against him at this point, no matter how much he knew that wasn't possible. he dug his own grave, it was just a matter of time before he would need to lay in it.

"she'll be okay." meredith reassures him, but he can tell by the look on her face that she was unsure as well. who knew would end up getting cut? they would need to pull their heads out of their asses and prove that they deserved to stay. none of them could lose their spot. not only because of their job, but also because of the people there. they were a family. they couldn't lose any more of their family. they'd just lost george, and they couldn't lose another.

"evil spawn, put on a shirt!" cristina yells, balling up a shirt from his locker and throwing it at him, hitting him square in the chest as he glares at her. he pulls on the shirt silently and heads out, not bothering to say goodbye to anybody as he leaves the lounge and heads straight to joe's across the street.

he slides onto a barstool, ordering a beer and thanking the bartender with a slight nod of his head. how was he supposed to tell izzie about the merger? he knew that if his wife knew, she would want to return to work immediately, but he knew she couldn't do that. she was still getting her strength back, and standing around on her feet all day surely would delay the healing process. he couldn't risk her getting hurt because he wasn't able to stop her.

he'd done enough recently, even if izzie didn't know about most of it. the last thing he needed was to cause his wife more harm than he already had.

he was going to tell her, he knew that, just not right now. right now he was going to sit on this uncomfortable wooden bar stool and drink his beer and forget he had any problems. he was going to forget about the merger, he was going to forget about him and izzie going at it twenty-four seven, and he was definitely going to forget about the brunette with a fake name who seemed to be on his mind all the time.

he was just going to forget everything, his only focus being his beer and the football game on the small television above the bar. yeah, that sounded like a good idea. a really good idea.

____

okay, so he forgot about two out of those three things.

he was actually doing pretty good for a while, almost a full hour with nearly a beer and a half finished. all he had been focused on was the seahawks playing against the steelers, with the steelers crushing the seattle team thirty-four to seven. not much of a surprise though, he couldn't remember the last time he'd witnessed the seahawks win. it wasn't that they were a completely crap team, it was simply the fact that one; the steelers were much better this year, and two; he hardly ever got enough time to sit down and watch a game. being a resident drained the life out of him, especially since he had finally knew that he wanted to specialize in peds. when he wasn't at the hospital he was reading up new medical procedures in magazines, or occasionally sneaking over to meredith's to watch old ellis grey tapes.

he was doing really... until he got a text message from jo.

joseph: how was your surgery?

alexandra: wow, you must be bored.

joseph: ...

what makes you say that?

alexandra: really?

joseph: i'm in med school, thank you very much. i have a severe interest in your surgeries.

alexandra: mhm, sure.

joseph: fine, i'm bored. entertain me. please.

alexandra: that sounds vaguely dirty.

joseph: oh great. how drunk are you?

alexandra: what makes you say that?

haha, two can play that game.

joseph: i'm guessing two beers in?

alexandra: shut up, only one and a half.

joseph: mhm, wasn't too far off

but seriously. i'm bored and am in need of anything remotely interesting. you just scrubbed in on a super cool surgery, i want details

alexandra: fine, baby maria duboir, two weeks old, robbins let me lead the procedure about half way through, coded once, we then shocked her at 150, and now she is stable and in the NICU.

happy?

joseph: yes. very much so

although i do think your OR stories need work

you sound like you have absolutely no idea what you're talking about

alexandra

wow. you're a real delight you know that?

joseph: oh, believe me, i know. don't even get me started on how many times people have complimented how freaking amazing i am

it's quite a common occurrence.

if i had a dollar for every time someone said that to me, i'd be living on my own private island

alexandra: i bet you would.

seriously though, tell me something. i've got nothing better to do than watch the seahawks get crushed.

joseph: i'm guessing that's sports talk, so i'm just gonna ignore that, since it hate any sport where men look like giant block of cheese, run around a court, or just run in general.

but today's been boring. went to a dinner tonight. fancy stuck-up rich people who laugh with posh accents and sip their champagne way too slowly

fucking turtles.

alexandra: sounds fun.

joseph: you suck. i can literally hear the sarcasm through the phone asshole

alexandra: that's the point. i'll take a sick kid over fancy dinner any day.

crap, that sounded really horrible didn't it?

joseph: it really did

"i'll take a sick kid over a fancy dinner any day" real charming if you ask me. night in shining amour.

alexandra

yeah yeah you know what i mean.

____

they're not sure how long they end up talking for, alex siting at joe's bar and jo lounging on the couch in her living room while her husband was in his study going over and grading tests for one of his classes. before either one of them even know it, it gets to be twelve thirty boston time and nine thirty in seattle. alex's texts had gotten much harder to read, which made sense, considering he was now on his third beer.

jo teased him about it though, finding it more enjoyable than she would've guessed to text a drunk alex than a sober one. he seemed to get increasingly flirtier the tipsier he got. not to mention, all the spelling mistakes he made was definitely one for the books. she had a feeling that it was getting a but harder for him to see which letters where which, considering a few b's were located where there should be d's, and 'm' where they should be an 'n'

alex knows for a fact he's earning many stares from fellow people at the bar because of how much he's laughing (loudly too), but he doesn't really care. if he's gonna laugh, he's gonna laugh. all he could really focus on was the fluorescent lights hanging from the bar's wood ceiling and the frankly hilarious texts coming through his phone. (okay, so they weren't that funny, but everything is always a lot more funny when you're drunk)

jo was thoroughly enjoying herself, laughing more and more as she sank into the couch, completely forgetting about the bruise on her left cheek as she typed away, grinning from ear to ear when the man on the other side responded, words misspelt and random numbers and semicolons popping up from time to time.

they knew that what they had done was wrong. they knew that what they were doing was wrong. but they couldn't stop.

if only they had stopped sooner.

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jenovahh · 3 years

Text

The Honey Pot - Ch. 17 - The Same Thing

“We’re special?”

Is this… your memory?

You remember this room. This smell. This day.

This person.

This smile.

“Yes.” Pink lips pull into a nurturing smile, cream hands pinch your chubby cheeks. You have grown yes, but there is still remaining baby fat yet to be lost. “We are chosen by our Mother, Hydaelyn. She loves us very much.”

“How do you know?” your smaller self asks, playing with the blocks in your hand. It is a lazy afternoon day, the cartoons on the TV long forgotten. A girl who can be no more than seven years older than you is crouched on the floor by your side, handing you more blocks to build your budding city. Her hair is intricately braided and pulled into a spiky bun at the back of her head.

“Well...let's say that she likes me a lot, a lot,”

“You’re her favorite?” you interrupt, dropping your blocks and pouting.

“No, no! She does not have favorites; she loves both you and I equally.” The girl whispers, giving you a boop on the nose. “She just gave me an important job to do.”

“Oh, and what’s that?” You ask, eyes wide as saucepans.

“To take care of you silly!” The girl scoops you up in her arms and spins you around, your childish laughter filling the room. The memory makes you smile, until the sky is suddenly black and the room dark. Heavy footfalls sound around you until they crash in on the room, the girl clutching you tight.

“There she is!”

“The Oracle of Light!”

“Get her!”

Tears stream down the younger you’s face, left to cry and wail in the middle of the floor next to your abandoned blocks as the girl is dragged away by unseen forces. Thunder crashes, rain pours, the nightmare falls apart--

“Minfilia! Don’t go…!”

“Honey!”

As your eyes focus, you find Estinien’s staring right back, his eyes concerned and wary, his hands pinning your arms to your sides. The last vestiges of the nightmare ebb away, your body slowly grounding itself back in reality once more. “I…”

Frowning, Estinien heaves out a humorless laugh before finally releasing you, falling short of collapsing on the bed as he takes a seat at the edge. A tense silence ensues, your head hung low in shame of showing such weakness. Sniffling, your skin feels tense, bringing your hands to your cheeks you realize you had been crying in your sleep.

“Are you all right?” He finally asks, looking at you from over his shoulder.

You do not answer, not immediately. You aren’t alright. You haven’t been alright for a long ass time.

“I’m fine.” You lie, despite your words to him earlier that you had not lied to him. He’s clearly not in a fighting mood, seeing fit to not call you out on it. Dressed in more casual wear now, his hair is drawn back in a low ponytail resting against his neck.

"Look. I can only be there for you if you let me." He says with just a hint of pleading to it. "You can lean on me. You don't have to do this alone."

Shaking your head, you pray for him to see the desperation in your eyes. "I don't...I'm scared something could happen to you." You admit, your voice just a breath below a whisper, hoping he can hear how genuine your fear is.

Frowning again, he curses beneath his breath. "Your ride's here. Called when you were asleep, asking why you'd been gone longer than usual." Standing to his feet, he heads to exit the room. “Your clothes are over there on the dresser for you to change into. I already packed the old ones in your bag." Saying nothing more, he leaves you alone. A lone tear rolls down your cheek, falling to the plush sheets he had wrapped you in but a few hours before. Taking a steadying breath you throw them back and swing your legs over the edge, standing to your feet.

You trudge over to the adjoined bathroom to quickly freshen up and get dressed, swishing some water around your mouth and finger combing your hair. With a fresh change of clothes, you look a little less debauched, but somehow it still feels like the walk of shame as you make your way down the stairs to the front door. Estinien has made himself scarce, and unable to tell if you should be thankful or miserable for it. Deciding not to pay it much mind, you toe on your shoes and begin your trek across the grounds, heading for the side gate to try and avoid Cid if possible. Sure enough your driver, Yuyusho, is waiting out by the car, looking somewhat worried.

"Miss Honey!" he calls running over to you. "I hadn't heard from you for so long, I had feared the worst."

Giving a strained smile, you shrug nonchalantly. "I'm sorry, Yuyusho. What did Estinien tell you?"

"He said he had hit you so hard he knocked you unconscious." Yuyusho responds, to which you tell yourself the next time you see Estinien to make sure you knock him unconscious. "Are you still feeling unwell?"

"I think he may have exaggerated a bit…" you grumble, teeth clenched in a forced smile, "but we certainly hit it harder than usual today. I'm sorry to make you worry." His genuine concern is actually refreshing, and you make a note to try and learn more about him.

"I'm just glad to hear you're all right." he beams, waddling over to the rear door and opening it for you. "We must return to the estate at once; Lord Varis is expecting you." Nodding, you step into the car, the sound of the shutting door feeling so ominous. The ride back is silent as usual, but the guilt you had felt in Estinien's arms seems to only compound with every malm you get closer to the Galvus estate.

Pulling into the driveway, you give Yuyusbo your goodbyes and head inside, readjusting your bag as you walk through the doors. What few maids are there greet you, but you pay them no mind, finding it hard to keep your head up as you make a beeline for Varis' office.

Knocking on the door, you take a deep breath, bouncing off one foot to the other.

"Enter."

Twisting the handle, you step inside, finding the Galvus patriarch sitting at his desk as usual. The same moody lighting fills the room, not a window in sight as you move to take a seat in your usual chair.

He scribbles at a few documents for a minute or two, finishing up whatever task he has been working on. Placing his pen back in its stand, he weaves his fingers together and levels you with an inquisitive look. "You are late." An observation and a statement. An accusation almost.

"I know." You answer, shoulders slumped.

He arches a brow, a smirk curling his lips. "Will you not explain the reason for your tardiness?"

Wringing your hands together, you debate on telling the truth. You don't know how Cid's robot would've jumbled the conversation and play it back when they scanned it. You would lie, but what would you even lie about?

"That is an interesting mark you have there."

Jolting up, you follow his gaze to where it is pointedly aimed at your neck. Whipping out your phone, you use the camera to sure enough find a few hickeys on your collarbone. Pursing your lips, you feel the urge to cry again. If Varis noticed this, then surely Zenos--

"I will not require your choker from you this time. I doubt anyone is eager to hear you moan like a bitch in heat." Varis interrupts your thoughts, looking entirely too satisfied. "Though I must say, I am pleased. Perhaps now that he's loosened your legs, that bodyguard will loosen his tongue."

The thought of using sex just to weasel information out of Estinien fills you with anger, and it is only the fact you are no longer in the hot seat that keeps you quiet and obedient before this monster.

"Go and enjoy the rest of your day off. I’d suppose you would need your rest after such an intense...session." he chuckles lowly. "I will inform my son he is not to bother you for the rest of the evening. You are dismissed.”

This is clearly the most pleased Varis has ever been with you and yet you can’t help but resent him quietly as you stand without uttering a word and retreat from the room. Dragging your bag along the floor out of spite, you climb the stairs to your room, using your free hand to tug the scoop of your neckline to hopefully cover the marks. You’re almost tempted to make a break for it, but you know your clamor would be heard throughout the halls, so it is with sluggish feet you keep a leisurely pace to your quarters. Thankfully he is absent, allowing you to slip into your room unbothered. You do not get the privilege of being able to lock your room, so you pray Varis was right when he said Zenos would be ordered to bug off for the rest of the day.

You don’t turn on the big chandelier that hangs from your ceiling, instead choosing to draw every curtain and turn on the single, wrought iron lamp in your room. Hauntingly beautiful, for once you are glad that Varis’ gothic aesthetic matches your mood. You can’t remember the last time you felt so down on yourself, but if it’s been too long to remember, maybe you deserve to throw yourself a pity party.

So you do.

You flop down face first on the bed and let the fluff of the bedding take hold of you, breathing in freshly cleaned linen. Fisting your hands in them, you giggle to yourself at the thought of rolling yourself up like a piece of sushi like you used to when you were a kid. Such simpler times and yet, such dark times too. You try not to dwell on them much, for each time you do, all that it brings about is nightmares. Nightmares of being an orphan, of losing Minfilia, of unknown blood on your hands…

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, pulling you from your daze. Reaching to grab it you squint at the screen to see that it is Ardbert calling you. You didn’t deserve a third friend’s shoulder to cry on in one day, if you even had anymore tears to cry at all. You reject his call and shoot him a quick message that you’re just going to take the rest of the day to chill, which he buys quickly enough.

You wish you could confide in Ardbert all that had happened today: about Varis, about Cid, hells, even just gossiping like adults about what a good lay Estinien is. But the walls have ears and the hills have eyes and you would never do anything to jeopardize his life if you could help it. As much as Ardbert wanted you to depend on him, as dangerous as he knew this family was, he still was willing to stick out his neck for you, even if it meant his own life.

You didn’t deserve this kindness. Not for the sins you now bear.

You deserved cruelty; you needed it. You needed to be kicked around, made to feel lower than dirt, pounded into the ground--

So that you could spring forth with rebirth once more as fierce and explosive as ever.

You deserved nothing but malice as penance for the crimes you’ve committed. You needed to be bound. You needed--

An image of golden hair and blue eyes fills your vision.

You need to sleep.

Summer slowly gives way to fall, its chill creeping in steadily. Your morning yoga had instead changed to morning jogs, doing laps around the estate until your lungs burned. Somedays Zenos had joined you in strained silence, and other days he barked orders at you from the comfort of a lawn chair as he sipped on his Ul’Dahn coffee. Things were obviously tense between you to anyone with eyes, but neither of you (or anyone else for that matter) were willing to be the first to address it, for you were sure neither of you were sure what it was to address. You each acted almost robotically around the other; clipped sentences, only speaking when asked a direct question or given an order. There was no teasing, no scathing remarks, no insults carefully masked as a compliment.

It was miserable.

A few weeks pass, and the changing weather matches your mood. You still visit Estinien to spar despite what occurred between the two of you, the waters still murky on how to proceed. Despite that, it doesn’t mean you are unwilling to find comfort in his body; letting yourself be cared for, feeling normal, even if only for a little while.

“Are you sure you still wish to remain my son’s bodyguard?”

“Yes. If I want a change in a career path, I assure you, you will be the first to know.” You respond in monotone, doing your best to repress how obviously annoyed you are.

“I merely extend the offer in good faith; it is clear that things have...soured between my son and yourself.” Varis comments, clicking away at his computer while nursing a glass of wine. He swirls the ruby liquid around in its glass, golden eyes sparkling with the reflected light of his computer screen. He has that bemused expression again; like a cat that got the cream. “I will remind you again that this offer has no expiration date. You may join my security detail at your leisure.” He cuts you with a look that borders on lustful, and it takes every ounce of control in your body to keep the muscles in your face from making a disgusted expression.

“You had...called me here for something sir?” you sigh, through restraining your utter distaste for him.

"Yes. We will be traveling abroad for an important gala and naturally you will be coming along. We will be departing for La Noscea and staying in Limsa Lominsa. You will need to pack enough clothing for a three nights' stay as I will have other things to tend to there before we depart. Luggage has already been provided for you, as well as all the proper documentation to travel abroad. We will leave in the morning and I expect you to be prepared to leave at dawn. Am I understood?" He asks and you give a curt nod. "Good. Go on and pack your things." he waves you sway with a flick of his hand and you obey, albeit unwillingly.

Heading to your room, you can't help but feel a little giddy; never in your wildest dreams did you see yourself being able to travel, let alone outside of the country. You remember daydreaming with Minfilia about the two of you running away and seeing the magic the world has to offer, but it was a dream that never got to come true.

Packing your things, you resolve to try and take as many pictures as you can, to hold onto the memories you would create, in hope that Minfilia would see them too, in spirit. She was with you, you knew it.

You text Ardbert about your departure, and while he expresses his envy, he makes you promise to bring him back tons of souvenirs and La Noscean snacks with that hefty paycheck of yours. He even offers to bring you his own suitcase to fill to the brim, which gets a good laugh out of you. You can never be thankful enough for his friendship, and do resolve to bring back as much for him as you can.

When you leave for the airport you ride with Rhitahtyn and Livia in first class in a separate airplane, not quite understanding why you can’t ride in the private jet with your client, but deciding that honestly, you could probably use the space. You spare yourself no luxury as you settle into the overly cushy seats that first class has to offer, choosing to indulge in a vintage glass of wine and Boscaiola for your mid-flight dinner. Each bite is delicious and you savor each one, knowing that as soon as you land, Zenos will be watching you like a hawk. The question came to mind of why Varis simply didn’t have you fly economy and spare himself some money, to which Livia scoffed as she cut into her ribeye steak.

“It would be an insult to him, and his wealth. Lord Varis is clearly not hurting to save money; to not even afford his security detail something as common as first class would be in poor taste.”

You suppose that made sense, given that your work uniforms were pressed and starched every week and also handmade. Even though you had long since adjusted to your life of luxury, you realized there was still so little you understood about it all.

“We are not close to the ocean and yet I still can still smell the salt in the air. I will never understand the appeal.” Livia huffs with a curl to her lip, her red hair blowing gently in the balmy wind as you wait for the chauffeurs to retrieve the cars. Naturally, the Galvus’ were swarmed by paparazzi as they made their way through the airport, and they were surprisingly rowdy too, at least compared to Kugane citizens. You wondered if it was just because they were La Noscean.

“I’ve always found it comforting.” Rhitahtyn sighs wistfully, allowing the sun to hit his face.

“I suppose you would. You had spent most of your youth here, did you not?” Livia asks, and the two launch off into conversation, which you are more than happy to leave them to. Taking out your phone, you take pictures just as you promised yourself you would, of the sky, the clouds, the birds overhead. There really was a different feeling about being here, and you didn't care if you could feel eyes on you for soaking it in.

"I hear Garlond's due to arrive perhaps just an hour later," Varis announces, his voice carrying over the passing cars and planes that have taken off. "The event is not until tomorrow evening. Feel free to spend your night at your leisure, Honey."

You groan internally at his obvious bait, but Zenos beats you to a response. "How many times do I have to tell you to not order my bodyguard around?"

"Yes, yes, well-- if you want to keep such a tight grip on her and not allow her any freedom, I suppose that is your prerogative now isn't it? Though I wouldn't be surprised if you find her in someone else’s arms as a result…" Varis purrs and you blanch immediately as Zenos' eyes flick to you with an unreadable emotion.

Unable to decipher what he's thinking, you decide to not say anything at all, guiltily looking away. You miss Varis’ smug smirk, his hands reaching up to adjust his tie unnecessarily. “Well. I have given my suggestion, do with it as you may. I will be getting some work done this evening before the gala tomorrow.” With perfect timing, the cars pull up, windows tinted to where the chauffeur is basically a shadow. Saying nothing, you quietly open the door for Zenos, who doesn’t spare you a glance as he steps inside. Unfortunately, this is where you must part ways with Rhitahtyn and Livia, and once again have your boss as your sole companion.

As the car pulls away from the airport, you find yourself wishing that Ardbert was allowed to come along to be your driver. Even if you two weren’t allowed to talk to each other, just his presence alone was a comfort, especially in the recent weeks where things were incredibly tense. With no Ardbert here, things feel worsened and you choose to spend the entire ride watching the world pass by.

Thankfully Zenos is of the same mind, saying nothing. You can’t deny that you miss the bickering, the banter, but you know you’re too stubborn yourself to initiate it again. You hardly know why he started closing himself off to you in the first place, making it hard to find a place to start to try and get things to being relatively normal again. Jealousy couldn’t be the only reason, could it? You practically worry your lip raw from biting it while thinking too hard, the car pulling up to the hotel before you know it.

Arriving at your destination, The Mizzenmast Inn is a five star hotel, the valet rushing to open the door before you can even reach for the handle. Stepping out, you get a whiff of the salty air, even able to distantly hear the ocean. Were you close to the shore?

“Our luggage...where is it?” You ask more to yourself, but it seems it reaches other ears.

“It will be delivered here if it hasn’t been already.” Zenos answers, climbing out the car and glancing around. As he moves past you, you nod and shut the door, following him inside. “Collect our room keys from the front desk.”

“S-Sure.” Ambling over to the front desk, you flash your ID to the receptionist who goes through the motions of giving you a warm welcome. Once done, she hands you two shiny, black cards, seeming to be made of metal. Liking their weight, you play with them in your hand a bit before giving your thanks and meeting Zenos by the elevators. One arrives just as you stand by his side, and you both enter to head to your rooms.

The building was fairly tall from the outside, and you wouldn’t doubt that Varis of course requested the highest room with the best view if any of the other rich people hadn’t already. Imagining such a view in your mind, you’re jolted from your thoughts as the elevator comes to a sudden halt, your eyes immediately searching for danger. “Zenos,” you start, moving near him, but instead you are pressed against the wall instead, wincing as your back uncomfortably hits the hand rail.

Opening your eyes, you gasp as Zenos suddenly yanks your blazer to the side, his fingers alarmingly quick in popping the first few buttons of your shirt open. Face heating, you move your arms to push him away. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

His gaze is focused as he pulls the shirt to the side as well, fingers running over your skin around your neck. Through searching one side he examines the other, eyes scrutinous as he visibly frowns. Finally meeting your eyes, he has that unreadable expression again. “What was my father talking about?”

Pursing your lips, you try to quickly decide what to say. Better to stall. “What do you mean?”

His eyes narrow like a cat’s, unbridled rage simmering just below their blue depths. “Do not lie to me.”

Silent, you break his stare, glancing at yourself in the reflective surface of an adjacent wall. With his bulk, his height, he encompasses you entirely, his hand still firm yet feather light on your throat. His other palm is flat against the wall, his body far too close to be considered professional. Like this, one might even say you...looked good together.

You grunt as the hand that was at your throat jumps up to your chin, gripping fiercely to make you face him. “What. Did my father. Mean?” He asks, enunciating each syllable painfully slow.

“What’s it matter to you?” you lash out, falling all too easily back into the need to defy him. “Why the sudden interest, huh?”

However, it seems Zenos isn’t in the mood to play games, as he doesn’t rise to your bait. “You don’t just train with that bodyguard, now do you?”

“If you mean that we also have tea and converse, then you would be correct.” You lie, hating the taste of it on your tongue. Something about lying to Zenos felt...wrong.

Maybe because despite all his faults, he was nothing but genuine.

You’re thankful you remember some of Lyse’s tips for getting rid of hickeys in just a day or so. Never would you have thought you’d actually need that advice, especially not for this.

“And what of me? Do you not consider me worthy of the same?” He asks, and you swear you see just a brief flicker of pain before it is lost in a sea of jealousy.

“Well, Estinien doesn’t call me a savage and actually treats me like an equal.” You huff, reaching up with a free hand to grip his wrist to see if you can coax him to loosen his grip. “He doesn’t berate me, he doesn’t make me feel like shit. He treats me like a fucking person.”

He seems to mull this over before he tightens his grip more. “I would not think you would care about such trivial things.”

“They’re not trivial, you bastard. They’re what makes us mortal.” You sigh, giving him a pitying look. “You treat me like shit every day and you really think I wouldn’t jump at the chance to talk to someone who doesn’t?”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say.

His fist slams into the wall, cracking the glass. “You should only talk to me.” He snarls, and like a chain reaction his anger incites your own.

“I couldn’t give two shits about your little ownership speech.” You snatch his hand from your face and twist his arm painfully, uncaring whether you hurt him or not. “As smart as you are Zenos, you learn absolutely fucking nothing.” Reaching past him, you re-engage the elevator, choosing instead to get off on the closest floor. The elevator doors open blessedly quick and you exit onto whatever floor it deposits you on, stalking down the hall without looking back.

The rest of that day is instead spent in your hotel room, feeling conflicted as hell, but unsure why to even yourself. It is tempting to call Ardbert, but something about being out of the country and calling home seems even more high risk. Instead, you choose to simply order in all the first class food you can stomach, and charge it all to the Galvus account.

The alone time at least lets you have your thoughts to yourself, to think about whether you imagined the hurt in his eyes or not.

I promise to make it worth your while...if you weren’t my employee.

Punching your pillow you scream out your frustrations into the downy cushion, kicking your feet as you abuse the poor pillow some more.

Why did everything have to be so hard?

Why did he have to be such an asshole? Why couldn’t he be more like Estinien? What was so hard about treating you like a fucking human being--

Why do you care?

He doesn’t care about you. It’s a fact you have to constantly remind yourself of. He doesn’t care about you, he just thinks of you as his toy and now daddy is making him share. He’s behaving like a child unable to process his feelings, lacking in emotional maturity. That wasn’t your problem to deal with.

“Rookie! You ready?”

“I’ll be out in just a minute!” You call, fastening your cufflinks, shaped to be the Garlean logo like every other accessory you were allowed to wear. One would think Varis would use his own logo for his brand to put on all his things, especially since he had seemingly renounced Garlemald entirely. It’s not the time to think about that however, quickly putting your linkpearl in your ear and other necessary tools where they belong. Stepping out the door, your coworkers are waiting for you looking equally sharp, giving you an approving nod.

“Security is still going to be tight, right?” You ask, giving Rhitahtyn a small smile as he waits for you and Livia to board the elevator first, ever the gentleman. How it was that Livia could see past his Roegadyn heritage yet get on your case made no sense, but you decided not to think too deeply on it. It was time to get to work and no matter how tense things were between you and your employer, you had a job to do.

“Yes, largely in part due to the happenings at the hospital. I believe Lord Varis refused to attend at all unless security was up to his expectations. Of course, after the nearly successful attempt on his life, no one could discredit him for being paranoid or overthinking it.” Rhitahtyn explains, his mass making the elevator feel a little cramped.

“Well hopefully nothing eventful will happen. I’d like a nice peaceful night of just being a shadow for once…” you sigh wistfully, soothed by Rhitahtyn’s low chuckle.

“Aye, I hope for the same. We will at least have our fill of hors d'oeuvres tonight. Even so, never let your guard down, rookie.” Giving you a light clap on the shoulder, he nudges you to head out the elevator first as it comes to a stop, where you are to await Zenos and Varis in the lobby. The sun is only just now setting on the horizon, casting warm tones onto the still bustling city. While Limsa Lominsa is nowhere near the size and modernity of Kugane, it still has its charm, with significantly less skyscrapers decorating its skyline. You get so caught up in admiring the beauty as you stare out the windows, you miss the elevator signaling Varis and Zenos’ arrival.

The two are dressed in tuxedos like any male at any formal event, and you find yourself mentally wishing that men in society had a little more variety. That isn’t to say they look bad; their tuxedos are tailored to fit and boy do they fit well. You hardly spare Varis a glance as you drink Zenos in, admiring the fine line of his body. His tuxedo is cut differently than his father’s, perhaps due to his body type, for a normal tux would look frumpy and unflattering to his form.

His golden hair is washed and straightened, trimmed perfectly to where a single hair isn’t out of place. The cut of the tux accentuates his broad shoulders and slim waist, leading to narrow hips that flare into muscled thighs. His slacks are made to fit somewhat snugly, but still allow movement, showing off his prime physique and toned glutes.

He would easily qualify to be an Adonis in anyone’s book, even your own.

“Blink, rookie.” Rhitahtyn whispers, giving you a nudge. Face flaming red, you quickly turn away, ceasing your staring. Were you really that obvious?

You prayed that wasn’t the case, following the two men down a hallway. The gala was being held at the same hotel you were staying at, at least saving you a car ride anywhere. Shadowing Zenos, you go into work mode, staying just within arm’s reach and looking for any would be threats. Reaching another hallway, you can already hear loud chatter and camera flashes of other attendees making their way in. Here, Varis would break off and walk down the red carpet to get the attention he so craved while you and Zenos would head straight into the venue.

Entering the ballroom, the decorations are breathtaking as always, nothing short of magical. Hues of blues and silvers glimmer across the room, all kinds of crystals twinkling and catching the light, making refractions on the walls and floor. If only it weren’t inappropriate to whip out your phone and catch a few photos. You would love to be able to share these pictures with Y’Shtola and Lyse when your job here was done. You dreamed of being able to sit back and laugh about all of this around some glasses of wine and a shitty romcom in your pajamas.

“Daydreaming again?” Zenos drones, not having looked in your direction, but clearly speaking to you.

“I don’t daydream.” You answer angrily, still on high alert for potential threats.

“I’m sure you don’t. That’s why you didn’t hear me telling you to go get me a glass of champagne.” He tuts, crossing his arms and raising a single brow.

“How do you know I wasn’t just ignoring you?” The rebuttals come as fast as ever, almost naturally.

“Of course you were. Just do as I say.” He gives that bored sigh, and it grates on you as much as it gives you an undercurrent of worry. “I already tire of the event and it has barely even started.”

Frowning, you do as told and meander to the closest table, dodging past a few clumped celebrities. In a strange way they had become familiar faces; people you saw in person plenty of times even if you had no direct interaction with them. They certainly wouldn’t know who you were…

“Hey...you’re that bodyguard right? For the Galvus kid?”

...or maybe they did.

Turning after picking up a glass, you find world renowned singer Guydelot giving you a rather fine smirk. Blushing, you bow respectfully. “That I am.” You respond hastily, standing straight once more.

“A pleasure to meet you. I must say, even though I saw the news myself on tv, seeing you in person doesn’t quite do you justice to what I had envisioned in my mind’s eye. You are...quieter than I thought at first.” He laughs, rich and loud and you can’t help but join in.

“I hope I didn’t disappoint.” You respond casually, sorely out of practice with small talk.

“Not at all...after all,” he sashays by you to swipe a flute from the table, giving you a sultry look. “You are far prettier than I had envisioned as well.”

Flustered, you nearly drop the champagne flute you were holding from your hands as your ears burn hot. “That’s uh, quite the compliment…” you murmur, quite unsure what to say.

“Think nothing of it!” He teases, sauntering closer to you. “Though, with how tight security is tonight, do you think you could spare me a few minutes of your evening? Surely your charge won’t notice you missing for a little while.”

“She can not.”

Zenos’ voice cuts through the air like a knife with its finality, his hand landing on your shoulder possessively. Looking back at him, his eyes are trained on Guydelot as if he would kill him where he stood were they anywhere else but here. Growling, you glare at him right back. “Where do you get off,”

“Ah, so the one being guarded is the protective one I see!” Guydelot pouts, taking a long swig from his glass to finish it off. Setting it back down on the table, he gives you a wink. “I know when I’m beat and am highly allergic to getting a beating in particular. Good evening to you my lady, and of course, to you as well Zenos.” Saying nothing more, you watch as he meanders back into the crowd.

Standing there in silence, your rage doesn’t come to you at first. It simmers just below the surface, almost as if it is just one layer away from seeping from your pores. “Why. Did you. Do that.”

“Your job is to protect me. You do not get to go off and,”

“I am well aware of what I get to and do not get to do!” You nearly yell, taking a deep breath so you can remember to lower your voice. “What is with you? You fucking ignore me, treat me like the rest of your fucking employees and by that I mean you talk to me as if I’m no better than the dirt below your feet. You don’t want to tease me or even argue with me anymore. Is it because of Estinien? Are you jealous?”

Glaring at you, he snatches the champagne from your hand as he grabs your wrist. “Do not presume to know me.” He breathes lowly, his grasp on your wrist incredibly painful but you will not back down. Not to him.

“I’m not presuming shit. I’m just trying to get things back to normal. I’m trying to see what’s wrong, Twelve help me, I’m trying to be a friend to you!” You snap, finally getting things off your chest you had wanted to say for so long.

“I do not need you to be my friend.” He’s almost raised his voice now too, leaning in closer, eclipsing the light in the room from your vision.

“Then what is it Zenos? What do you need? What is it that has changed how we speak to each other? Why have you closed yourself off?” The questions tumble out before you can stop them, the concern in your voice loosening his grip, as he suddenly can’t hold your gaze any longer.

“Stop asking such nonsensical questions. I don’t have to explain myself to you, savage.” he bites out, taking a step away from you.

“Stop running away and just tell me!” You hiss under your breath, stepping forward, chasing him down. “What is wrong, Zenos? Just tell me, I...I want things to be normal again.”

His expression is the most conflicted you’ve ever seen it, his touch on you feather light before he lets go of you entirely. People are surely staring at you, but you pay them no mind, focused on him, in this moment. All he has to do is tell you what’s wrong, confide in you this once, and maybe things will be normal again, you can smile around him again--

“I have let you go unchecked for too long. You need to learn your place.”

At that your face visibly falls, and so does your heart.

“Honey!”

Tears sting just behind your eyes as you turn to that familiar voice, seeing Cid squeeze his way through the crowd to get to you. “I didn’t know you would be here!” he beams, setting his glass of wine down on the nearby table. You do nothing as you are suddenly dragged into a fierce hug, your face buried in his shoulder where the beginnings of your tears are soaked by his tuxedo. “C-Cid,”

“Wonderful as always to see you.” He cuts you off, giving you a tight squeeze before pulling away slightly. “Why don’t you and Estinien go and relax for a minute; eat some finger food and drink some champagne?” Looking over his shoulder, sure enough Estinien is there, glaring at Zenos as if he wants to fight, but his gaze softens when he looks back to you.

“That is my bodyguard, Garlond.” Zenos seethes, stepping forward until Cid places a steadying hand on the younger man’s shoulder.

“If you’ve not noticed, you’ve garnered quite a lot of attention my dear boy...and you know I know your father as well as you do. He wouldn’t be pleased if it was bad attention, now would he?” Cid mumbles under his breath, causing Zenos to actually take a good look around the room. The guests still converse and chat, but they are clearly angled in a way to keep an eye on the two of you. Seeing this, Zenos huffs before straightening up. “Atta boy. Why don’t we have a little walk around the place, hmm? I’m sure those two will keep us in their sights and there’s plenty of security around here.”

Nodding, albeit reluctantly, Zenos downs the flute he was holding and swaps it for another, uncaring of the bubbly liquid sloshing over the rim slightly. Casting you one last glance, he follows Cid into the crowd, taking the curious eyes with him.

You watch them disappear into the masses, standing stock still until Estinien places a gentle hand on your back. “You looked like you needed saving.” He comments, not saying what he truly wants to say. Testing the waters.

The floor suddenly captures your interest, suddenly unable to keep your head up to look at him. “I...not really. That’s just another Tuesday with us.” You laugh without humor, digging your heel into the floor. Finally gaining the courage to meet his stare, you falter at Estinien’s shrewd look.

“I’m sure you’re smart enough to know what you’re going through,” he begins, reaching to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, “but you deserve better than that.”

Shaking your head, you turn to stare longingly in the direction Zenos had disappeared in. “I’m not so sure about that. But what I am sure of, is that to explain our relationship is...something probably best left unexplained.” Shaking your head, you turn back to face him, giving him a weak smile. “I’m not even sure I understand.”

Estinien says nothing to that, his expression somewhat pained, but it is gone in a flash. “I see.” he breathes, a note of determination to his voice. “Well, until you do, why don’t we listen to the old man? It was his idea after all.”

For the majority of the evening, you stick with Estinien, his presence a literal lifesaver in a sea of chaos. The one time you catch Varis’ eye he gives you that smug smirk again, the one that makes you sick to your stomach. You stealthily urge Estinien to steer you elsewhere in the gala, skimming the outer rim of the crowd where it is relatively quieter. You converse about any and everything, and soon enough your initial worries fade to the back of your mind as you keep Zenos and Cid in your sights. The night wanes on, but you don’t feel tired quite yet. Some guests have already turned in, the main events of the gala having already transpired. Your feet hurt a little, but not so much you couldn’t tough out another bell.

“It’s getting pretty late, yeah? My feet are gonna be hurting something fierce.” You comment, giving Estinien a light nudge. “I figured old man Cid would’ve turned in by now.” you joke, to which Estinien gives a smirk of his own.

“One day I’ll be there to see his reaction to you calling him ‘old man’, and laugh when he stops being so nice to you.” Estinien chuckles, only laughing harder when you give him a playful punch on his arm. “If you’re so tired, why don’t I carry you back to your room, hm?” He asks, blue eyes burning with muted desire.

Flushing with warmth, you do your best to not sound flustered. “You know I can’t leave until Zenos does! And you can’t leave until Cid does either!”

“True.” Estinien sighs dramatically, but not without encroaching on your space more than is appropriate for being just friends. “But if I recall, you’re staying at this hotel correct? Would certainly look a lot less suspicious if you brought me back to your room…”

Giving him another playful nudge, you giggle. “You’re awful.”

“Only for you.” He grins, tossing you a wink. “What do you say? I won’t tell if you won’t.” His hand creeps along your back, hovering just above your ass. Thankfully your backs are against the closest wall, so to anyone passing by, the two of you look innocent enough. But those long finger’s intentions are anything but pure.

“Oh I...I mean…” What would it mean were you to bring Estinien back to your room tonight? Within the bounds of the estate, you could write it off as just visiting a friend, letting off steam. But here, abroad, far from your original duty, would it still be friends with benefits? Two colleagues scratching an itch?

Did he want more?

Sensing your inner turmoil, Estinien moves his hand back up to your shoulder; neutral territory. “Honey, I don’t mean to pressure you.”

“No, that’s not it--” You begin but out of the corner of your eye, you catch golden hair rushing out the door. Confused, you reach for your linkpearl. “Livia, did Zenos tell either of you he was leaving?”

“Negative.”

Frowning, you break yourself from Estinien’s grip, but not before he grabs your hand before you can get away entirely. “Honey, wait,”

Looking back at him, he looks so vulnerable. This is something you need to talk about; you know it is, but--

You have a job to do.

“I’m sorry,” You pull away and push your way through the crowd to try and follow after Zenos as quickly as you can.

Knowing his long strides, he might be gone already. You pray he’s just heading back to his room and forgot to tell you, but he’s always so meticulous; this is so unlike him. Especially with how fiercely protective he was being, it makes no sense for him to suddenly stalk off like that. Willing your feet to move a little faster, you round the corner to the elevators in record time.

Mashing the button doesn’t make an elevator come any faster, but your patience is worn thin. You watch the others tick up, praying that one of these is his and that you’re not too far behind. Sure he can handle himself, but what if someone gets the jump on him like last time--

“Come on, come on…” You grumble, jumping onto the elevator as soon as the doors open, mashing the button for the floor Zenos is staying on. You shouldn’t be missed from the gala if only he stalked off, and hopefully no one else noticed, most importantly Varis. You really did not need to hear it from him tonight.

The elevator comes to a stop and you hop off immediately, spotting Zenos’ golden hair trailing behind him just as he turns a corner. “Zenos!” you call, following after him. As usual, his gait is hard to keep up with, but you know he fucking heard you. “Zenos!” you try again, trying to also be mindful of the late hour and not raise your voice. You’re nearly jogging down the hall to catch up with him so that you don’t have to yell for him. Growling, you give yourself that extra push to catch up to him. “I know you hear me you piece of--”

Suddenly he’s snagged you by the arm and slammed you into the closest wall, the impact jarring your vision for a moment. “That fucking hurt,” you hiss, as your vision refocuses, gasping as you find him far closer than he seemed.

Too close in fact.

His arms caged you in, his body shielding your own just like it had in the elevator yesterday. His hair cloaks his face in shadow, for the halls are not brightly lit to add to the atmosphere. There’s not a soul around, leaving the hall eerily quiet were it not for the sound of your own breaths intermingling with Zenos’. The scent of his cologne drifts into your nose, something so earthy and woodsy and sophisticated all at once. Even though he’s pinned you here, he doesn’t seem like he’s going to make the first move. “Zenos,”

“Why won’t you belong to me?”

The question alone leaves you speechless, not for the question itself, but for how confused and desperate he sounded. When he finally looks up to meet your eyes, you see pain, so much pain. “Would it be so wrong to be mine and mine alone?”

You bark out an empty laugh, shifting beneath him. “You can’t own people, Zenos.” His face breaks into even more confusion, and for the first time you truly do pity him. “Have you really never had a friend? One who didn’t want your money, your power, your status?”

“I have had no need of them.” His voice is firm, resolute. “What need do I have of such people when I have power? I have been a hunter without equal; no one has deserved the right.” He hisses, pressing in closer to you. “No one except you.”

“And yet you can’t even treat me like your friend!” You snap back, baring your teeth at him. “You call me names, you treat me like an insect! And you wonder why I won’t belong to you?” You try to push him off but he bears his weight against you, fueling your frustration. “Zenos yae Galvus,”

“You belong to me whether you like it or not.”

A loud crack sounds throughout the hallway.

It is the sound of your hand connecting with the side of his face.

Even Zenos himself is appalled; despite all the ways you have struck him, never, never have you dared to slap him across the face.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Tears well in your eyes, and you let them fall, uncaring for once how weak and vulnerable you are before him. He is still in shock it seems, so you continue onward. “You fucking idiot, I care about you!” You nearly roar, caring about nothing in this moment, except for him. “Even though I’m not supposed to--” your voice cracks and breaks, your hands coming up to furiously wipe at your tears. “You keep pushing me away like some fucking child-- what am I supposed to do?!”

You stand there and cry, the tears seeming like they won’t stop flowing. “I wake up to see your face every morning, I eat breakfast with you, I go to work with you, I come home with you. And you think I wouldn’t care? Do you even know what that is? To care?” You smack him on the chest, though you might as well be hitting stone. “You...you…!” You hit him again, but there’s no strength in any of your strikes, and he stands there and takes your assault wordlessly as you cry in the hallway. “I’ve become a killer! For you! I took someone’s life because I cared about yours more!”

That seems to awaken something in him, his eyes wide with shock and a sudden understanding. “I do belong to you.” he whispers, almost as it was an epiphany, and those words are enough to finally make you the confused one.

“W-What…?” You stammer, giving him an incredulous look. “I tell you I fucking care about your sociopathic ass, and all you have to say is,”

Your words are cut off by the press of his lips against your own.

Your brain lags malms behind your body, finally catching up to the fact you are currently kissing the heir of Galvus Enterprises. His arms ensnare you immediately, bring you against his firm body, and you’re ashamed at how quickly you melt into him.

Pushing harshly at him, you try to pry him off you, but it’s like pushing against steel. “Get off me,”

“No,” he rasps, lips pressing hot kisses to your jaw as you refuse to let him kiss you again. His touch is like fire, threatening to burn you alive and turn you to ash if you’re not careful.

Panicking, you try to break from his grip.

“Zenos, let me go,” you demand, giving a well placed hit to his ribs. He grunts in pain but is otherwise undeterred. If anything, it’s spurred him on. “What are you doing,”

“I don’t know,” he admits, nipping at the skin on your neck. “But this feels right.” He growls, grabbing your legs to haul you against the wall, placing himself between them. Your arms loop around his neck automatically to steady yourself, gasping as you stare into his ice blue eyes.

“I realized this now…” He trails off, hands flexing on your thighs. “We do not speak in terms the other understands,” he breathes, inching his face closer to yours. Cool, blue eyes jump to your lips for a moment before coming back to meet your gaze. “But we want the same thing.”

He presses his forehead to yours, breathing deeply as you feel the bump of his third eye on your skin. “You care about me…” he breathes as if he is testing the word on his tongue. A shiver so strong going down his spine that you can feel it in his grip. “And you belong to me.” Pulling away, he opens his eyes, overflowing with desire. “I’m through playing games.” The finality of that statement lets you know that from now on, nothing will ever be the same.

“Tonight, I will make sure you never forget you are mine.”

#zenos #zenos yae galvus #FFXIV #Final Fantasy XIV #THP

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bcbdrums · 4 years

Text

A/N: Another one! More angst! For reasons!!! This one ends a bit differently though. I'll put it on FFn and AO3 after I get some sleep, lol.

---------

Shego eyed Drakken with a mixture of suspicion and concern. She had been giving him the same look for the past hour and half, but he had yet to notice through the look he'd been giving her. It started after his third drink, and after he'd started glancing at her with disdain, as if she'd done something to upset him.

But she hadn't done anything. In fact, she'd gone out of her way for him that night.

They were at Drakken's favored karaoke bar, and while it was far from a nice place she had dressed up since they were technically on a date. Even though it was their regular karaoke night, Drakken had made it very clear...through repeated asking, far exceeding the norm, that it was in fact a date.

"Yes, it's a date! We're going on a date. We've gone on dates before. Why do you keep asking?" she had said in annoyance after what must have been the sixth or seventh time he had asked.

Although in truth, it didn't feel like a date. They sat at their usual table, eating their usual appetizers, and drinking their usual drinks. The only difference was their attire, and that she had felt much more embarrassed singing with him than usual as he proudly wore his 1970's blue leisure suit and poorly matched Hawaiian tie. She looked very out of place next to him in her short, green dress.

If their relationship lasted, she was going to have to update his wardrobe.

But no, she had taken extra pains for the date, since she knew it would make him happy. It was Drakken whose behavior was off, with the drinking and silence and moodiness.

As he gave her another miserable glance she frowned. It had all gone on long enough. But before she could speak, he stood up and approached the stage. It was his turn again.

Soft jazz strings from an old recording filtered through the speakers as Drakken adjusted the microphone. And when he began singing, the tones were slow, low, and sultry.

"My funny valentine, sweet comic valentine, you make me smile with my heart. Your looks are laughable, unphotographable, yet you're my favorite work of art."

Shego's brow rose as she straightened uncomfortably in her chair. He had glanced at her just as the lyrics began. Was he...was he insulting her?

"Is your figure less than Greek? Is your mouth a little weak? When you open it to speak, are you smart?"

Shego's anger had begun to boil, but it stopped abruptly as she watched the look in his eyes become distant. He was looking away at nothing as he crooned the lyrics, the stage lights shining in his dark eyes. And as he held the long notes, the emotion that the lights revealed behind his eyes was sadness, and worry. Her lips parted as she realized... He wasn't insulting her. He was singing the song as if it was about himself.

"But don't change a hair for me, not if you care for me. Stay funny valentine, stay. Each day is Valentine's day."

She leaned forward on her elbows and rested her chin in her hands thoughtfully. Why would he be worrying about his looks all of a sudden, after they had been dating for two months? Had she been too obvious about the old-fashioned suit he was wearing? It wouldn't explain him thinking he was unattractive in general.

As he repeated the final lines, he closed his eyes and sang them with a pleading passion. Shego felt shivers run across her skin as his voice rose skillfully with the apex of the song, controlled and strong. He lowered his voice to a hush as he sang the last words, and applause rang through the bar before he had even finished.

Shego leaned back and blinked as she stared at him. He had meant every word of the song, but he was interpreting it backwards. Why did he think he was unattractive all of a sudden?

Drakken stepped back to the table and sat down, the applause still sounding. Before he was even in the seat his drink was in his hand and the disdainful look was back on his face.

"Okay," Shego said, leaning close to him. "What's wrong with you tonight?"

"Nothing," Drakken grumbled.

"Don't give me that. You've been looking at me like I took your lunch money and then you go and sing that, like...like I've been..."

She tossed her hands up lightly as his scowl deepened. The next act had begun singing an Oh Boyz song on stage, and Drakken waved her off as if he was trying to watch it. But it was something they had seen at least two dozen times.

"Come on Drakken, what gives?"

He looked back at her with the same, inexplicable contempt as he knocked back the rest of his drink. He set the glass down too hard as he let out a low growl.

"You! You—" Shego had started gesturing for him to lower his voice, and he glanced around and remembered where they were. It didn't shake the frown on his face however. "You sit there looking...looking like that. And I'm just..." He shook his head as he gestured to himself. "It's laughable, you with me."

Shego's jaw set in annoyance. "What are you talking about?"

"You're a goddess. And I'm...I'm hideous," he said, looking down in defeat. He picked up his glass and then scowled as he found it empty. He looked hopefully over at hers, but she pushed it back with her hand out of his reach. He frowned at his own glass.

Shego rolled her eyes. "Drakken."

He looked up and frowned.

"Do you think I'd be going out with you if I wasn't attracted to you?"

His brows knit together tightly as he processed the words. But then he looked down again with a scoff as he waved the waiter over to their table.

"That's impossible."

"Oh no, you've had enough," Shego said emphatically.

Drakken's frown deepened. "But Shego!"

"He's had enough," Shego instructed firmly when the waiter approached. The man nodded and stepped away a bit warily.

Drakken began grumbling something unintelligible as his fists clenched on top of the table.

"Drakken. Drakken... Dr. D.!" she said a bit louder when she couldn't get his attention.

"What?" he said glumly.

"When did this start? I mean, we've been going out for two months now... I thought things were..." she shrugged lightly, "going well."

"Don't you ever look in a mirror?" Drakken said lowly.

Her brow furrowed. "Yeah..."

He seemed to study her, testing her words for truth even though his frown seemed fixed. He rolled his eyes and looked down again.

"Then you're not looking close enough..."

"Doc, you're not making any sense," she said impatiently.

"If you paid more attention you'd see that...that someone as perfect and beautiful as you doesn't belong with someone who...who looks in the mirror and sees..." he picked up his empty glass and stared down into the bottom, where his reflection shone back faint and distorted, "...me."

Shego fairly shook as anger rose hot in her veins.

"Drakken."

He spun the glass around on the table, shaking his head sorrowfully. Applause rang through the room as the performer on stage finished his turn.

"Drakken!" Shego said more loudly, grabbing him by his blue polyester lapels and yanking him up harshly to his feet.

He stared down at her with wide eyes, clearly shocked. And then she stepped up on her toes and brought her lips to meet his in a fierce kiss.

He didn't respond for several seconds. But as soon as he did she draped her arms over his shoulders and pressed herself against him. Her lips worked furiously against his, and before long a low growl sounded from deep in his chest. She slid her tongue between his parted lips and felt the answering, warm touch from his. His hands found her waist and his fingers dug hard into her flesh as he returned her kiss with an almost desperate passion.

She wrapped her arms further around his neck and held onto her own arms tightly as she felt her knees weaken. She sank against him and was prepared to lose herself in the kiss entirely, when the roars of applause and raucous cheering reached her ears. Drakken had moved one of his hands to her back and was sliding it downward. She broke out of the kiss in a hurry just before things became too indecent, and she blushed deeply at the sounds of the hoots of the crowd that were then joined by moans of disappointment.

She looked up at Drakken and watched him slowly blush as he realized exactly what had transpired. She felt him breathing as heavily as she was as she clung to him, her arms still around his neck for support as she found her feet. After a moment he looked down at her in a mixture of apology and embarrassment.

She blinked twice, and then rose up on her toes to place her lips against his ear.

"Let's get out of here..." she murmured huskily.

He turned and looked at her in surprise, his cheeks reddening further.

She gave him a gentle smile.

"I'm not done showing you how attractive you are."

For a moment he looked like he was going to deny her and start wallowing in self-loathing again. Thinking quickly, she bit her lower lip lightly and let the flesh slowly escape from her white teeth, her eyes locked on his and smoldering with seduction.

She felt him shudder. He released his hold on her and picked up her coat from the back of the chair and helped her into it. Then she grabbed his hand and smirked at him as she fairly ran to the door. He smiled shyly, but happily back at her as the crowd cheered behind them.

#drakgo #dragko #drakken #shego #drakken x shego #shego x drakken #drakken and shego #Kim Possible #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #writing

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midnighttmarauder · 5 years

Text

Compromised

Pairing: Sirius x Potter!reader

Summary: Reader gets kidnapped while on an undercover mission, and Sirius will stop at nothing to get her back.

Warnings: mentions of torture/pain, mention of death, minor violence

Tags: @evyiione @quokkatrash @accio-rogers

***

“Potter, we need you on a mission tonight,” Moody said. You, James, and Lily looked up. “Y/N, not you two.”

“Why not?” James whined.

“Because I’m the best Potter,” you replied.

“Oh, really? I beg to differ, little sister,” James retorted. Lily smirked and winked at you over his shoulder.

“I don’t have time for your sibling squabbles. Come with me, Y/N,” Moody said. You stuck your tongue out at James as you followed Moody out into the hallway.

“What’ve you got for me this time?” you asked.

“Undercover mission at an all-girls academy. There’ve been multiple death eater sightings in the area, and we suspect there might be one on the inside,” Moody replied.

“I won’t have any backup?” you asked.

“No, it’ll look too suspicious if we bring in too many people at once,” Moody grumbled.

“Not that I’m questioning your judgement or anything, but why me? Why not Lily? She’s been on more undercover missions than I have,” you said.

“She may have been on more missions than you, but you said it yourself. You’re the best, Potter.”

The academy was the complete opposite of Hogwarts. There wasn’t a tinge of laughter in the hallways. No crooked ties or untucked shirts. No students cracking jokes or even smiling. The girls avoided your eyes as you walked through the winding halls, clipboard pressed tightly to your chest. Acting as a supervisor was proving to be hard work considering you were barely older than many of the girls – and shorter than a few. Constant vigilance echoed in your head around every turn, with every suspicious noise or glance in your direction. You nearly stupefied a young girl as she barreled around the corner and right into your stomach.

“I’m sorry, miss,” she said. She peered over her shoulder, her hands shaking at her side. She couldn’t have been older than nine or ten.

“That’s alright. What’s your name?” you asked.

“Helen, miss,” she replied.

“Nice to meet you, Helen. My name is Amelia and I’m here from the Ministry,” you said as you pointed to the nametag that Remus had fabricated.

“What does the Ministry want from us?” Helen asked, her voice shaking.

“I’m only here from the board of education to make sure your curriculum is suitable for girls your age. I was hoping you could help point me in the direction of the headmistress’ office. I think I took a wrong turn and now I’m terribly lost,” you replied.

“Come with me, miss,” Helen said. She took your hand with small, shaking fingers and began to lead you the way she had come. It was quiet for a few moments with only the sound of her shoes clicking against the floor.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Helen, what were you running from? Are there any other girls bothering you?” you asked innocently.

“No, miss. I just thought I saw something,” she replied.

“What did it look like?” you asked.

“It was dark. Like a cloud. I couldn’t see much, but it looked like there was a snake,” Helen said. She swallowed thickly. You didn’t have the chance to reply as you reached the headmistress’ office. “This is where I leave you, miss. We’re not allowed in there unless we’re summoned.”

“Thank you for your help, Helen,” you replied. You squeezed her hand and she gave you a shaky smile. You knocked on the office door and when you turned, she was gone. A vaguely familiar voice called for you to enter and you pushed the door open.

Your clipboard clattered to the floor.

“Well, well. If it isn’t little Potter,” said Bellatrix Lestrange. Your hand shot to your pocket and you pulled out your wand, pointing it at her just as she did the same.

“Are you the headmistress?” you asked.

“No. She was,” Bellatrix replied, pointing lazily behind the desk. You edged further into the room and gasped at the woman lying on the floor, staring unseeing at the ceiling.

“I don’t understand,” you muttered.

“Merlin, you’re slow. I killed her! We have a girl on the inside that let me in, I killed the headmistress, and now we can turn all of these girls into death eaters. Isn’t it wonderful?” Bellatrix cackled.

“You’re mad,” you said.

“Maybe. But you will be too,” Bellatrix said. You furrowed your brows as Bellatrix jutted her chin at something behind you. You turned and were too late as a burst of red light filled your vision.

***

“Black, Potter. Come with me,” Moody said as he stormed by them in the living room.

“He really has to be more specific,” Lily muttered as she followed James and Sirius into the kitchen. She looked at Moody and crossed her arms. “Did you mean me or James?”

“Both of you will do. Listen, I’m just going to get straight to the point here. Y/N was compromised and she was captured,” Moody said. Everyone’s blood went cold.

“By who?” Sirius asked.

“Your cousin,” Moody replied. Sirius swore viciously and began pacing. It took everything in him to not shatter anything within arm’s reach.

“Do you know where she is?” James asked.

“We think she’s at the Malfoy’s. That’s usually where they take their more…important hostages,” Moody said.

“Let’s go get her then,” Lily said.

“It’s not that simple. We can’t just go in there, wands blazing,” Moody replied.

“Why not? They’ve got my sister,” James spat.

“I understand, but we have to have a plan,” Moody said.

“Screw the plan!” Sirius yelled, slamming his fist on the table. “They always fall apart when we get there, and we don’t have time. Merlin knows what they’re doing to her.”

***

Your throat was raw. It felt like you had been screaming for days. You faded in and out of consciousness, Bellatrix’s maniacal laugh weaving its way through your head.

“I’m getting tired of asking. Tell me where your headquarters are. Now!” Bellatrix yelled. You shook your head with a tired laugh.

“And I’m getting tired of repeating myself. I won’t tell you anything,” you replied. Searing pain coursed through your body and your back arched off the chair. Your screams echoed around the room as you clenched your eyes shut.

“Who do you answer to?” Bellatrix asked.

“Merlin,” you replied. Red-hot agony.

“What were you doing at that academy?” she asked.

“Trying to enroll.” Something sliced your cheek. You opened your eyes to find Bellatrix inches from your face, her dagger poised against your jaw.

“Don’t be smart with me or you’ll lose your tongue! I’m going to try one more time. Who do you answer to?” Bellatrix yelled.

“I already told you – Merlin. Or would you prefer God?” you drawled.

“You’re going to wish they were here to save you,” Bellatrix spat. She pulled her dagger back just as the crack of apparition resounded in the room.

“Expelliarmus!” Bellatrix’s knife clattered to the floor as her wand flew out of her other hand and straight into Sirius’. You almost sobbed in relief as James and Lily appeared beside him. The three of them pointed their wands at Bellatrix, and she raised her hands mockingly in surrender.

“Get the hell away from her,” Sirius growled.

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite Gryffindors. Always so brave but so stupid. Did you really think it would be this easy?” Bellatrix asked.

As if on cue, several death eaters apparated into the room. James and Sirius pressed their backs against Lily’s, forming a defensive circle.

“What do you want from my sister?” James spat.

“Information. I knew it was only a matter of time before you lot would come running. I thought I would break her by now, but I do have to admit that she’s stronger than she looks,” Bellatrix replied. She put a finger under your chin and lifted it, forcing you to look her in the eye as she smacked you across the face. James had to hold Sirius back.

“Let her go. We’ll tell you whatever you want,” Lily said.

“Don’t,” you mumbled.

“But I haven’t had fun yet,” Bellatrix said with a pout. She held out her hand and one of the death eaters walked to Sirius. Without a word, he grabbed Bellatrix’s wand from Sirius’ hands and tried to take it. Sirius resisted, and the man delivered a blow to his stomach.

“Give it to him. Just give him what he wants,” you pleaded. Sirius met your eyes and with a pained look, handed the death eater the wand. Bellatrix laughed wickedly as the man put it back in her outstretched hand.

“Let’s see if your friends are smarter than you are. Where are your headquarters?” she asked.

“Don’t tell her,” you said. Bellatrix stepped behind you and put her wand to your temple.

“Where are your headquarters?” she repeated. Sirius opened his mouth.

“Don’t! We made a promise to the Order, don’t break it for me!” you yelled. Bellatrix mumbled something, and hot pain shot from your temple down to the tips of your toes. You gritted your teeth against a scream. Sirius clenched his jaw and looked away.

“Fine, if you won’t tell me that, then who do you answer to? I bet it’s Dumbledore,” Bellatrix said, spitting his name like it was poison. James narrowed his eyes at her.

“If he was, you’d already be dead,” he spat. Bellatrix’s laugh raised hairs on your neck.

“So much faith in a pathetic old man,” she drawled. “Now, I won’t ask again! Tell me or she dies!”

Another jolt of pain shot through your body, and you couldn’t fight the scream that forced its way out of your throat.

“Stupefy!”

Sirius had had enough.

Bellatrix was thrown backwards and slammed against the far wall. Chaos ensued. You tried your best to duck as spells flew over your head. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sirius making his way over to you. He hissed as a spell hit him in the shoulder, but he kept going, focused solely on you and getting you out.

“Hello, love,” he muttered as he reached you and began untying your ropes. When Sirius had untied the last rope, you sagged forward, unable to hold yourself up anymore, but he was there to catch you. You wrapped your arms around him with a shaky breath.

“You’re here,” you mumbled. All the chaos seemed to stop.

“I’m here, you’re safe. I’ve got you,” Sirius replied. He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled back, holding you at arm’s length to inspect your injuries. James and Lily ran up behind him.

“Are you alright?” James asked. His eyes scanned across your face, stopping on your cheekbone.

“I’m okay,” you said.

“We managed to chase some off, but the rest are coming. We have to go. Now,” Lily said with an apologetic look. You nodded and made to stand up, but Sirius scooped you into his arms. You held on tight as he vanished.

The apparition left your head spinning. You groaned as Sirius carried you into Grimmauld Place and laid you down on the couch. James pulled him aside.

“I’ll debrief for you. You just take care of my sister, alright?” James said.

“Thanks, mate. I always do,” Sirius replied, clapping him on the shoulder. You heard him and Lily leave, and then Sirius kneeled in front of you. “You gave us a right scare.”

“I’m sorry. I wish I could say it won’t happen again, but I can’t promise anything,” you said. Sirius chuckled bitterly.

“It’s alright. I’m just glad you’re home, safe and sound,” he replied, brushing a piece of hair away from your face.

“Thank you. I…don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up when you did,” you muttered.

“I bet you would’ve kicked her ass,” Sirius said. You laughed, and your hand shot up to your ribs.

“Ow, please don’t make me laugh.” The smile slid off of Sirius’ face as concern shone in his eyes. He put his hand on top of yours and squeezed your fingers.

“Don’t worry, love,” he muttered, kissing your cheek softly. “I’m gonna take care of you.”

#Sirius Black #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #Marauders #marauders era #marauders imagine #marauders era imagine

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camillemontespan · 5 years

Text

she wolves [part one: birthright]

My new series! I have taken a few things from TRR such as the Royal Council, which has everyone in it now, and kinda edited them. My teaser for this was really well received and I’m so excited for this. I’m thinking it can be like A Kingdom Divided but epic.

The start of this is the teaser but there’s more content you won’t have read after.

Warnings: NSFW

@jovialyouthmusic @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @sirbeepsalot @moonlightgem7 @pug-bitch @burnsoslow @ibldw-main @notoriouscs @katedrakeohd @emceesynonymroll @emichelle @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @star-spangled-eyes @drakesensworld @rainbowsinthestorm @stopforamoment @saivilo @pedudley @gardeningourmet @jlynn12273 @texaskitten30 @msjr0119

Let me know if you want on or off the tag list.

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

Olivia

We bow our heads as the gilded coffin is taken down the aisle of the cathedral. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Penelope wipe a tear from her cheek and roll my eyes.

King Liam is dead.

My childhood friend Liam is dead.

The man I loved, Liam, is dead.

I am the one who should be crying. I am the one who should be inconsolable. But I am Olivia Nevrakis and tears never come easy for me.

The choir begin to sing Ave Maria which was Liam’s favourite hymn, and we all look up again, ready to leave our pews and follow the dead king out to the Rhys family crypt.

I look around at my fellow mourners. There is Drake Walker, the commoner turned Duke, whose face is wet with tears. Drake is the man who never shows emotion - at least not to us. Maybe he does to his wife, Camille, the commoner Duchess, who is now holding his hand, trying to soothe him.

Drake was Liam’s best friend. Although they often didn’t see eye to eye on many things, they were still very close and they would have died for each other.

It’s a shame Drake didn’t get to do that first.

I look at Lady Hana Lee who is delicately wiping a tear from her eye with an embroidered handkerchief. She always looks so perfect and delicate; the kind of woman I would hate to be. That kind of thinking never sat right with me. I was taught to be fearless and hard, ready for impending war. Not holding onto embroidered handkerchiefs.

Kiara, the Duchess of Castelsarreillan, is whispering in French and shaking her head as the coffin goes past her. She is always quiet but I can tell she is always studying those around her. It’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for.

Countess Madeleine remains stoic as the coffin passes her now. She never wavers. She is like ice, which I would admire, except she is also cold inside and out. I may be ruthless and unable to cry, but I feel emotion strongly - probably more than anyone else. I’m fiercely loyal, I anger easily and I’m quick to hate. Many don’t want to get on my wrong side (wise), but sometimes, I wish people would just take a chance on me and see that I’m not always going to kill them with my favourite dagger.

Ugh, something about funerals makes me sentimental.

Or should that be weddings?

Liam forgot that about me. For too long, he neglected our friendship and ignored my advice. I could see him heading down the same path as his father and I tried so hard to help him stay in the light and out of the darkness. But he didn’t listen.

He pushed me into the arms of his brother.

I look at Leo now. Tall, tanned and golden Leo. His green eyes, usually so happy and vibrant, are filled with pain. I know what he is thinking. That should be me in there.

But Liam is gone and nobody can bring him back. The throne lies dormant; Leo will have to take up the mantle. He used to be King until he abdicated, fleeing his responsibility, determined to never be trapped by it again. But he has to be the King now. He has to.

Who else can possibly rule otherwise?

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

Once Liam is interred in the crypt, the other funeral attendees turn to leave. I stay. I can't leave Leo who is standing hopelessly, his shoulders slumped, as he continues to stare hollow eyed at his brothers resting place.

Silently, I move to stand beside him and rest my hand on his shoulder.

'I failed him,' Leo croaks, his voice thick from crying. 'I could see him going down a dark route and I tried to stop him but it didn't work. I wasn't there at the very end. I wasn't there to save him.'

'He was found in his bed, Leo,' I whisper. 'You couldn't have saved him even if you tried.' I'm trying to be supportive and positive. But Leo doesn't know I suspect foul play.

Leo clenches his fists and turns to look at me. His face is distraught. 'I will always remember finding my brother,' he says, his voice low. 'I will remember his pale face, his unseeing eyes and the smell of vanilla.'

I frown. 'Vanilla?'

'He had been burning vanilla candles before he died,' Leo says bitterly. 'Police think he wanted an ambient send off.'

This is the first time Leo has mentioned finding Liam dead. For the past week, Leo has been like a zombie, going through the motions. This is the first time he's opened up to me and already, this information doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel right because I don't believe this is innocent. Sure, people die in their sleep all the time. But he was only 28 years old. He was healthy. Maybe he had a defect but the cynicism in me thinks this runs deeper. I don't think this was suicide.

Looking at Leo's haunted face, I suddenly realise that he thinks the same as me.

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

Camille

Drake is withdrawn when we get home to the Manor. I ache to hold him, to tell him it'll be okay but I also know my husband. When he is feeling like this, he wants to be left alone.

But I still try. While he sits outside on the balcony of our bedroom, I bring him a glass of whiskey. As he sips the drink, I remake the bed with fresh sheets because nothing makes me feel better more than fresh sheets and soft pillows. It just works. I hope Drake will also think that.

Drake sees me smooth down the duvet cover and he abandons his glass to join me in the bedroom. Silently, he gets under the covers and beckons for me to lie beside him.

Drake is such a strong person. Honestly, I think he's the strongest person I know. His father died when he was fourteen, his sister left and soon after that, his mother abandoned him. He was left alone in the world. He had nobody but Liam and even that wasn't the best conciliation prize. But Drake kept going, surviving court and putting up with being the only commoner in a room full of titles. His walls were built like a fortress around him and they were so high, nobody could scale them.

Nobody could scale them because they didn't make the effort to. But I did.

I love him so much. He is my moody, sarcastic marshmallow. Hard on the outside, soft on the inside.

Right now, he is broken. He has lost his best friend. He feels lost.

Gently, I curl up into him and kiss his cheek. His fingers graze my shoulder and he looks at me with his brown eyes. 'Promise you'll never leave me,' he murmurs.

I roll over so I am on top of him. His hands hold onto my hips and he's looking at me like I'm the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Drake always looks at me like that. He is so good at making a woman feel special, like she's the only one.

'I promise I'm never leaving you,' I tell him fiercely. 'You're my husband and I love you. I'm here for you.'

Drake pulls me into him and our mouths crash together. He tastes of whiskey. His strong arms wrap around me, pressing me into him and I can feel his arousal against me.

'I want you,' he croaks. 'Please.'

I'll never deny him. I could never.

We undress, Drake tugging at my clothes, so desperate to get his hands on me. I pull aside my thong and he pulls down his jeans and boxers. Slowly, I lower myself onto him and feel his girth fill me up entirely. He always feels so good.

'Never leave me,' he grounds out, his fingernails digging into my hips as he pushes into me.

'I won't,' I whisper, rolling my hips against his own, taking him in deeper and further.

'I love you,' he murmurs. His eyes lock on mine and I lean down to kiss him hard. I wish I could inhale all of his pain and make him lighter. I wish I could protect him from the darkness of this world.

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

Olivia

Leo holds an emergency meeting with the Royal Council the following day. Not one for responsibility, the fact that Leo is taking control is a big deal and kinda sexy. Just saying.

The Royal Council was established by Liam when he first became King two years ago. Its members are myself, Camille, Drake, Penelope, Hana, Kiara and Duke Maxwell. Our goal was to support the King in his plans for Cordonia and work together to make the country strong and prosperous.

But now there is no King to support and Liam's chair sits empty. Even Leo won't touch it. He sits beside me instead.

I can see Madeleine eyeing him. She had been engaged to him years ago but he broke it off when he abdicated. She was so close to becoming Queen and marrying the love of her life until the rug was swept out from under her feet and Leo abandoned his duty, his fiancee and his country. He left for a few years until he came back, wanting to make amends to his brother. Madeleine’s never gotten over it but it's not like she lost entirely - he still fucks her occasionally. I don't mind since we have an open relationship which is entirely normal by Cordonian standards. But I know that if he was forced to choose one of us, he would choose me.

I challenge him. I don't take any of his shit and he loves that. It refreshing for him and he does the same to me. Meanwhile, Madeleine rolls over and offers herself up to him, begging for attention because she is desperate and has no dignity.

Leo clears his throat. 'So,' he begins. 'The country is in a state of upheaval right now. Everything is uncertain. I've called this meeting to discuss options for what we can do.'

We all blink at him in confusion. Drake is the first to speak. 'Um.. Leo? We thought you would take the throne.'

Leo stares at him, his face paling. 'What?'

'Because you're the King's brother?' Drake attempts. 'You know, Royal blood?'

Leo's fingers are gripping the table, turning white against the wood. I can see the panic on his face as he digests what Drake has just said. I have no idea why Leo wasn't expecting this to be the first thing we have discussed. It's realistic, it's obvious. Of course he should be crowned again.

But clearly, Leo doesn't want this. He is shaking. 'No,' he says. 'I can't.'

Madeleine's mouth drops open, wide enough to catch flies. 'But Leo!' she cries. 'You're the only one in the Rhys line! You have to take the throne! It's in your blood! You cat just shrug off this responsibility. For God's sake, it's your birthright!'

'Madeleine, I said no!' Leo shouts, his voice echoing around the room like thunder. Penelope winces and Kiara bows her head. He stands up, his body shaking as he tries to find the right words. 'I can't do it! I saw what the crown did to my brother! It destroyed him! He became a tyrant like our father and I swore I would never have the crown taint me. I saw what power does and I didn't want it. I can't take the responsibility, I can't bear the weight of Cordonia on my shoulders. So don't you dare tell me what I can and can't do because you are not the queen! You do not have permission to guide me or steer my thoughts! Are we clear?'

The room is silent. Madeleine looks like she wants to throttle him from the humiliation he has caused her. She overstepped and the usually happy, laidback Leo roared like the lion he actually is inside.

Maxwell coughs awkwardly. 'Okay so.. What else then?'

Leo sits down and puts his head in his hands. I reach out to curl a lock of his golden hair around my finger, my eyes fixed on Madeleine as I do so. She looks at me with jealousy and venom.

'We could always form a Republic..' Penelope suggests quietly. We all stare at her in shock. Leo exhales and his hands curl into fists. 'Please don't suggest something like dissolving the fucking monarchy in front of me ever again, Penelope, he grinds out. Penelope sinks down in her seat, clearly regretting her stupid suggestion.

'How can we appoint someone as a king when there is nobody else with royal blood?' Hana asks. 'It doesn't make sense.'

'You can put someone on the throne,' I tell her. 'It's easy.'

She looks so bewildered but I don't blame her. Nobody would think it was easy to place someone on the throne but it actually is. All you need is a claimant who has support and money behind him and enough unrest in the country to make appointing them seem like a good idea.

'We need a ruler,' Camille says, taking over. She looks so serious. 'Perhaps Bertrand? He is very close to the crown -'

'Ha! King Bertrand!' Maxwell laughs. 'My brother is so not suited to be a king. Definitely not.'

'I can't imagine curtsying to him,' Madeleine says dryly, examining her fingernails. 'The horror.'

'And I certainly won't do it if your thinking that,' Maxwell continues. Madeleine let's out a hollow laugh. 'Believe me, Beaumont, nobody was thinking that.'

'Drake, what about you?' Kiara asks him, smiling softly.

Drake looks like a deer caught in headlights at the suggestion. In fact, everyone does. Drake Walker as King? Jesus Christ.

'I appreciate the thought, Kiara,' he tells her delicately, 'but I'm afraid I'm gonna have to pass.'

Kiara shrugs and Camille giggles at the thought of Drake being the ruler of all of Cordonia.

'Well, we're out of men,' Hana says. 'So, back to square one.'

I look around the table and see that each woman sat around it has the same look in her eyes. The beginning of an idea that seems preposterous but if there is no other option..

'What about a Queen?' Madeleine asks, saying what we are all thinking. 'One of us.'

Leo shakes his head. 'Cordonia is too traditional, I don't think the people would want only a queen -'

'I think anything is better than Liam,' Madeleine bites back, her chin raised defiantly. 'He brought Cordonia into the ground. He made our soil into a bloodbath. Anything is better than him.'

'That is my brother you speak of,' Leo hisses.

'Dead brother,' Madeleine corrects him. 'Dead.'

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

Camille

Drake, Maxwell and I wander through the palace courtyard to get to our waiting car which is taking us back to Valtoria. We are silent after the meeting.

Maxwell breaks the silence. 'Camille, you could be Queen.'

I bite my lip. The thought did occur to me when Madeleine suggested it. Every woman at that table thought about it. But I know it would be ridiculous.

I am American. I am noble only by title which was bestowed to me as a gift from Liam before he turned dark.

I have no right to the highest position in the country.

I tell Maxwell so and I see relief wash over Drake's features. He hate nobility. He hates court. If he had his way, he would take me away to his family ranch in Texas where we could just be normal.

'But you would be so good!' Maxwell tries to persuade me. 'You were a commoner before so you understand the people. Valtoria loves you as their Duchess and can vouch for you. You care about the country and it people. You can raise Cordonia up-'

'Maxwell, she's not doing it,' Drake interrupts. He turns to look at me steadily. 'You're not doing it, right?'

I paste an artificial smile on my face. 'No, I'm not.'

But Maxwell's words stay with me.

#trr fanfic #drake walker #olivia nevrakis #drake x mc #the royal romance #leo rhys #liam rhys #maxwell beaumont

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judecz · 4 years

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damn, lucy, back at it again. this is the second love of my life, jude ! i am here for all the plots, so please, slide into my IMs & i’ll love you forever. click under the cut to hear me rant some more about this jerk, or give me a like to slide into ur d-scord ;~) ! you can check out his factfile here and his pinterest here !

TW: addiction ( drug + alcohol ), physical abuse, death !!!

[ LORENZO ZURZOLO / ARETE / MNEMOSYNE / MUSE 20 ] / [ JUDE CZERNY ] is a [ 21 ] year old [ MATHEMATICS ] major. [ HE ] is known for being [ GRITTY & LAID-BACK ] but [ FLIPPANT & MOODY ]. when i think of them, i imagine [ BLOODY KNUCKLES, SOUR CANDY, SPRINTS TO THE FINISH LINE, CHEAP T-SHIRTS ]. and even though they’re a proud HU student now, we all have our roots. theirs run back to them being an [ OAK PARK - COPERNICUS ] graduate. i asked around and it turns out they [ ARE ] an AOP student. in their interview, they managed to woo the admissions team by [ CREATING A NEW PROOF FOR THE BIRCH AND SWINNERTON-DYER CONJECTURE ]. i guess that’s all there is to know! unless…

when you’re born, you’re an inconvenience. it’s 9pm on christmas eve when you come wailing into the world. neither the nurse that swaddles you tightly nor your parents particularly want to be in the cold hospital, shivering under neon fairy lights in the depth of a south chicagoan winter. neither do you.

while you’re young, your mama is your hero. you don’t realise it yet, but she’s got a problem; there’s a reason why she sits zoned out on the couch as you tug at her cardigan, why your older brother has to cook you breakfast, brush your hair. and god bless him, he does it dutifully. when your mother tries to sober up, though, she’s perfect. she sings you lullabies in czech and kisses your nose, and you wish every night on the streetlight outside your window that the next day will be a good day.

most of the time, it isn’t. ruth sits complacent on the couch, glazed eyes fixed on the broken television. yet, even when she’s like this; she’s still better than your father. john drinks like a fish, and it brings out the worst side of him. he’s the most violent person you know. after every lost bet, every long night in the bar, you cower with your brother in your shared bed, head underneath the covers. yet it’s always still you that bears the brunt of his wrath.

it’s not your fault. thomas is the oldest, and the only useful one. phillip’s still small and cute, a couple of years younger than you, and looks exactly like your father. it’s you that’s stuck in the middle; you have your mother’s dreamy eyes and the sharp nose of your father, and it’s not enough to stop him from picking at you, pulling you apart. you always disliked him because he disliked you, right from the start.

you live like this for a long time. it’s not until you’re thirteen that your father drinks himself to death. he picks a fight with the wrong person, and bleeds out in an alleyway outside his favourite bar. despite all this, you can’t bring yourself to grieve. too often has your skin been tainted the same shade as your funeral suit from your father’s fists. good riddance.

your mom tries. she really does. but she can’t bring herself to get clean, even with your pleading. one day, they walk in on her shooting up. it’s essentially a death sentence for your family.

so instead, you three boys were torn from the last semblance of normality you had. no one wants three dysfunctional delinquents, but you cling together. screaming, tantrums, breaking things; you’ll anything to stop them from splitting you up. you’re not allowed any contact with your mother, and it breaks your heart, over and over again.

you never find a home for longer than a month. moving from group home to group home, they all have one quality in common: no one there really cares about you. quickly, you turn to crime. your father had taught you how to hotwire a care when you seven, baby-cheeked and innocent. he taught you how to pick a lock when you were six. it was the only thing he was good for.

it started with breaking and entering. you usually get away with it, too. burglary is easy when you were scrawny and small, and can shimmy in a window in seconds. besides, the money helps provide for the three of you; you run away often enough. you have to fend for yourself. at one point, you manage to spend an entire month homeless. but at least you’re still together.

as you grow older, you grow better at what you do. carjacking and vandalism seem more and more fun. the kids at the foster homes aren’t exactly shining examples, either; you were either being tossed around by the older kids, or asked to join in their schemes. you much preferred the second option.

your life continues like this until you’re sixteen. you learn to throw a solid left hook quickly. you switch from high school to high school as you move from house to house, never able to settle. but you have your brothers. you’re as close to happy as you can be. then everything goes wrong. thomas gets caught.

you can’t let him get locked up. he’s just turned eighteen, and that means prison time. so instead, you take the fall. vandalism. breaking and entering. theft. willful destruction of property. you stand in front of the judge; she’s a pristine blonde woman from the lake forest suburbs, and she is not lenient on you. it’s juvenile prison or nothing. as your brothers watch on, you’re led away.

you spend a year there. it’s worse than any foster home, but you develop a thick skin. at least all the punches you take aren’t for nothing. it’s here that you learn you have dyslexia & adhd. it’s here you’re blinded in one eye after another inmate gets hold of a knife, catches you in the dark, makes you pay for someone else’s sins. it’s also here that you learn you’re extraordinarily gifted at maths. a prodigy, someone calls you. it’s funny. at school you had sat at the back of the classroom, never able to see the blackboard in maths class.

when you turn seventeen, you’re let out. thomas is nineteen, working as a mechanic, trying to make a legitimate living. quickly, he gets the paperwork sorted to make him your legal guardian, and phillip’s too; for the first time, the three of you are reunited again.

you finish your final year of high school at oak park academy. you’d won a scholarship while in juvy, swearing you’d never return to the halls of your old school. oak park is an opportunity you’d never even dreamed of. you keep your head down and for the first time, you enjoy school. you make a few friends. no one here knows your troubled past, and you don’t tell them. you fly through maths problems like they’re simple sums, but english still evades you. you persevere, however, and graduate at the end of a long twelve months. not long enough. you wonder what your life would be like if you’d been here all along.

and with the opportunity of oak park, comes hatchett. you applied to every university in the country, but you have your eye on one in particular. you turn up to your interview, stomach churning and hands shaking. still, you spit numbers like they’re silver, quick fingers scraping chalk across the blackboard, ignoring the observant eyes of the panel. you work like you’ve never worked before. by the time you leave, your arms are dusted with white, your brow sweaty; but from the approving looks, your heart soars. you get your acceptance letter, and you glow. a full ride. it’s a blank page, simply waiting.

before you leave chicago for good, however, you have one last thing to do. after a mile long trail of paper and records, of doors slammed in your face and unanswered calls, you find your mom again. you’re surprised she’s still alive. she cries when you show up at her door, and your heart still bleeds when you watch her. even now you still call her, your voice thick with affection; yet you still tell people both your parents are dead. it’s easier that way.

your label is mnemosyne; memory. the memory of the life you used to live haunts you, like a ghost, long fingers digging into every corner of your brain. you’ll never forget the sharp glint of a knife, the screeching sirens of a police car, the smell of blood fresh on your knuckles. still, you tell yourself. you can change, you can change. you’re a shapeshifter now, boy. you’ve erased your old life from both your memory and everybody elses’. no-one needs to know — so you keep the memories of the real you tucked away deep inside your mind. you remember the soft smell of your mother’s hair. the pattern on your childhood duvet. your brother’s laugh, your brother’s crooked smile. you remember the important things, and leave the rest to be washed away by the tide of memory.

#hatchet:intro

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headoverjojo · 5 years

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Soooo... this was a small one shot I’ve written a little after Vento Aureo’s ending, but, eeehr... I kinda forgot I had it in my Drive? And it just popped out like “Ehi! I’m here!” and I felt so guilty that I decided to turbopost it here. I’m... sorry for this-

Fallen Empires

(Under the cut for length!)

Fugo knew he was right. He knew it. Logic was by his side, as probabilities. Rebelling against the Boss would have led just to death: he was too powerful, he had too many people ready to give their life for him. What could a bunch of teenagers do against the man who built from nothing an organization as Passione? Nothing. And for what, a girl they barely knew? No, no, nonsense, it wasn’t… it was just a dream. It had no sense at all.

His heart broke, when also Narancia, who seemed to have accepted his reasoning, instead left him, desperately swimming towards the boat. Fugo watched him getting in, feeling his heart clenching as it was being squeezed in a press as the boat sailed away, far, far... ‘till being engulfed in Venice.

Fugo was alone.

What could he do? He could just go back to Naples. The travel was so silent, so... lonely. He drove and drove, as his eyes stung for tears never shed. He did his best to focus just on the road, not to think about how it all seemed off, wrong, without the others. He didn’t want to think about how much he missed Mista and his usual loud quarrels with the Pistols, Narancia and his complainings about being hungry or bored or sleepy, Abbacchio scolding both of them for being so loud that he couldn’t even hear the music with his damn headphones on and Bruno restraining himself until he just zipped everyone’s mouth shut. Even if he got angry if they were too loud or dirtied the car or gave him the wrong direction, Fugo... never felt alone. In the end he… he liked it. He loved travelling with his family.

But now just the silence was keeping him company and he didn’t know for how much time it will have been like this. He thought that, maybe, once arrived in Naples, he would have felt a bit better, but it wasn’t so. Their HQ was sadly empty, almost abandoned; their corner at the Libeccio horribly silent. Everything seemed frozen, as it was waiting for their return.

Fugo was feeling like this too: it was like his life was on standby, waiting for the return of his friends to start again. Minutes, hours… it all seemed too long, as an eternity. He lost the count of the times he did his usual patrol, unconsciously following the known roads and paths. Maybe, deep in his heart, he hoped that, if he would have protected the neighborhood as Bucciarati always said to do, they all would have been back safe and sound. If he had protected it, their hearts would have returned to Naples and everything would have been as before.

No, not exactly as before… Giorno was here too, now. Giorno demonstrated to be a valid soldier and a good friend, doing his best to save him from the mirror world, at Pompeii. Maybe… maybe with Giorno they would have had a chance… Giorno was smart. He could bring out the best from everyone… maybe he was the light they needed. They needed Giorno, not him. Gold Experience could work with other stands, his Purple Haze no; even just calling it out was a danger for who was around. They needed Giorno’s calm and passion, not his anger bursts. He… he wasn’t necessary. They were better off without him.

Still… even if he wasn’t with them, he could be still useful, at home. Keeping everything in order for their return. Making sure that Bruno’s beloved neighborhood was safe. And he did so, thinking at the same time how to make amend for having left them.

Now that they weren’t here, he was understanding how important they were, how much they filled his life. Without them he felt empty and useless. He wanted to help more Bruno, when he would be back. More with papers, with planning moves -now that he was Caporegime, his work would have increased and this would have stolen time from his usual patrols of the neighborhood. Fugo knew how much Bruno loved those rounds, how much he loved to stay in contact with people, his people, to help them for real… he could take some bureaucratic work from him and give him the time to go on the streets, as usual.

Abbacchio… he had promised him a vinyl by Moody Blues, the band his stand was named from, once. He never got the chance to buy him one… he wanted to do so. It had started as a pun, but he wanted to do it for real. And then he wanted to sit with him and drink a tea with him, listening to his music and maybe, if he wanted to talk about it, his stories about his past. He never talked about the time with his ex partner, but sometimes he talked about, instead, of the time at high school, at the police academy. He would have listened to every word, he promised, oh god, he would have done it, every day, if necessary.

His mind then immediately flew to Narancia. His eyes stung again, remembering how, just few hours ago, the boy ran towards Bucciarati and Trish, screaming “She’s like me! She’s like me!”, and swam like he was having all hell’s demons at his tail. Narancia… damn, he missed him. He missed him so much. He never believed in God, not after what happened to him during his childhood, ‘cause, well... which God would let things like this happen to a child? But, that day, for the first time, Fugo prayed. Fugo prayed God to let Narancia come back, to let him hug again his best friend, to see him again and talk to him again and hearing him bragging about how they won over the Boss, while puffing out his chest. He promised, oh, he promised on his life, on God, on everything he could think about, to be gentler with him, more patient, not to have violent anger bursts with him, not anymore! He promised to help him to study and go to school, to tutor him as he deserved, to be… to be a better friend. He promised, oh, God, he promised. Please, God, let Narancia come home, let him realize all his dreams, as he always bragged out, let him… let him be happy. Let him live a long and happy life. Let him come back home...

He lifted his head, feeling his heart clenching, when he saw a swallow flying over him, so fast to almost seem a bullet. He didn’t know why his heart was hurting so much, as he followed the swallow until it was a far, far small point on the horizon. It was almost a… feeling of loss…

His heart skipped a beat when, two and half life later, he saw from afar Giorno, Mista and Trish. Beaten, but alive. Thank God! They were here, the… the mission had been a success! Where were the others? Maybe already at the HQ? Or at Libeccio? Maybe… yes! Maybe they sent someone to catch him? Oh, he couldn’t wait to see the others too. To apologize to Bruno, to endure Abbacchio’s scolding -and deserved- gazes, to hear to no end Narancia bragging out about how cool he had been while fighting the boss, how epic it all had been, to…

He stopped, not so far from the trio, a hopeful spark in his eyes and a smile. Their eyes didn’t share that hope, their face were somber and serious and-

Mournful.

Fugo felt the air abandoning his lungs, as he couldn’t breathe anymore. He remembered that swallow and the feeling of loss he had felt. Their eyes weren’t eyes of victorious men. Those were the eyes of someone who has lost everything.

Fugo understood.

As he collapsed on his knees, all the tears he had restrained so hard found their way to freely run down his cheeks, as he hit the ground with his fist, again, again, ‘till making his knuckles bleed, crying in anguish ‘till his throat was dry and red.

Bruno wasn’t here. Abbacchio wasn’t here. Narancia wasn’t here. They were lost. They were lost, because death had reclaimed them.

And now? What victory was this, he screamed, if no one was here to cheer for it, if the ones who fought now were lost? Had it been worth all the pain and the loss? Was this deafening silence the only reward they will ever get?

Fugo sobbed, shaking like a leaf, feeling empty. And all this, all the fights and the tears and the pain… for what?

What was left was a cold, golden throne and three graves. Nothing more.

#jjba #vento aureo #pannacotta fugo #one shot #scenario #personal writing #sfw

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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Playing with Fire Chapter 4 {biadore} - imafuckinglibra

Hi, hello, how are you? So I’ve been mia af lately (puberty, work, drag & engagement sorry) but I have been sitting on this boy for a while and he ready to be birthed to the world yay (gross I’ll see myself out). No smut this time sorry k bye

“Danny, no!”

Roy’s words rang in his ears a nanosecond too late just as Jason’s fist collided with Danny’s cheek and he hit the pavement with a loud thud.

What felt like the exact instant after Danny’s boney fist hit his jaw Jason had swung back at him. Probably a natural reaction but definitely not what he had expected.

When he hit the ground he looked up in disbelief at Jason, he’d heard of a jaw of steel but this was insane. It was like his flesh was literally steel. Cold and hard.

Hard enough to break his knuckle that the bone stuck out through the reddened damaged skin.

“He can change the structure of his skin you idiot!” Roy yelled at him before turning his attention back to Jason who already had his hands up, claiming it was self defense. “But he still has a squishy inside. Like the cockroach he is.”

Roy held his hand up and Danny could tell Jason was growing even more petrified than he had been a minute ago.

He looked unsure between Roy and Jason unsure of what Roy could possibly do that would scare him so much.

Until he began closing his fist.

The tighter Roy’s fist closed the redder Jason’s face grew, pure panic and fear spread across his face as the veins in his neck bulged out from his shirt’s collar.

“Get away from him you freak!” The man that was with Jason finally acknowledged what was happening as he began running towards Roy.

“Bug.” Roy snarled disgusted up at him and pushed away with a mere flick of his fingers like he was an ant on his plate.

“Stop. Please.” Jason begged out of breath with bloodshot eyes.

‘But he did almost kill Jason. Basically boiled his pretty little blonde brain to shit.’ Aaron’s warning from weeks before rang in the back of Danny’s mind as he watched with wide eyes at what was happening to Jason.

Of course. Roy controlled elements. Wind and earth…fire and water.

He was literally boiling all the liquid in Jason’s body, boiling him alive from the inside out. And Danny could feel it.

He could feel Jason’s terror and anguish as if it was affecting him too but even more he could feel Roy’s potential and energy burning so excruciatingly warm it was even hurting him.

It was hurting Roy to keep doing this, just because he punched Danny. This was his fault. Roy was in pain because of him and his stupidity.

“Roy. It’s okay, stop.” Danny pleaded walking up behind him to hug him. Trying to take some of that heat he was exuding off his shoulders and absorb it into him.

Just like Roy had taught him how to control fire, he couldn’t make any yet but he could pull it off his lighter or cigarette like Roy had done the first night they met.

Maybe, just maybe he could do the same with Roy. Remove some of his pain and fire off him.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have seen that.” Roy relaxed his fist and turned around to hold onto Danny. “You okay?”

“My hand hurts a little, and my cheek.” Danny winced when Roy took his hand in his.

He examined the damaged skin for a minute while Jason and his bug made an escape, smart choice Danny thought.

“Here.” Roy began focusing intently as he placed his other hand’s palm over the broken knuckle.

“It’s cold?” Danny asked in disbelief.

He was so use to Roy always being warm and toasty he never expected to feel his skin this cold, it felt like ice. Like he had completely frozen his hand.

“What?” Roy smiled. “You think I can make things hot but not cold? C’mon queen have a little faith.”

“Are you okay?” Danny didn’t take his bait at trying to lighten the mood. He was too concerned with what he had just watched Roy do, too concerned with the fear he had in his eyes.

“Yeah, just needed to blow off some steam I guess. Who better than your ex right?” Roy kept Danny’s hand in his palm as he threw the other around his shoulders, pulling him in for a much needed embrace.

“Was that the same guy he…”

“No.” Roy sighed. “New one.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah you better be.” Roy scolded. “You fucking idiot you don’t just go punching anyone you feel like just because you can.”

“I know.” Danny admitted softly dropping his head. Before he could ask or say any more Roy’s arms around him grew weak, limp. “Roy?”

“I’m good.” He protested trying to shake off any discomfort he was feeling. “I’m good I promise.”

“You look like all hell?” He asked growing more concerned when he saw Roy turn unnaturally pale.

“Hm-mh, fine. You’re good right?” Roy asked brushing his shakey fingers over Danny’s cheek.

His skin was warm, abnormally warm, burning almost. Danny even swore he could see the sweat on his furrowed brow evaporate as new drops poured out and disappeared.

“Stop looking so worried.” Roy shook his head before the rest of his body grew limp as well and he collapsed to the ground, his hands breaking his fall just in time as his body convulsed.

Every single thing he ate, drank and even some blood hitting the pavement in a horrific black splatter before he lost any stability he had left and he caved over.

“Roy!” Danny screamed falling to his knees besides him.

Unsure of what to do with his mind a complete bundled blank mess Danny reacted on pure instinct and called the one person he thought would know what to do best.

“I’m sorry I didn’t…” Danny’s snapped when the door to Roy’s apartment flung open but Shane threw his arms around him, gently shushing him before his rant could even begin.

“It’s okay, you did the right thing. A hospital would’ve turned you away, you did good, baby.” Shane continued reassuring him he made the right choice while he ran his hand along Danny’s spine to calm him down.

“He’ll kill you if he sees you smoking in here.” Willam who had followed Shane into the apartment along with Justin commented from behind them.

“No he, he let’s me smoke anywhere in the house except the work room.” Danny explained as he shakily brought the 3rd consecutive cigarette of the last 15 minutes up to his lips for another drag.

“I called Jerick, they’ll be here soon so don’t worry we’ll get this sorted.” Shane cupped his small face to examine the damage to his cheekbone. “Are you okay though? You hurt?”

“Why do you always call them? I can do it too you know!” Justin angrily grumbled before Danny could answer, taking a cigarette out his pocket and walking past all of them towards the balcony.

“Because you’d probably turn him into a frog or some creepy voodoo thing.” Willam defended Shane’s decision in his usual joking way as he followed Justin out.

“He does the same dark magic as Aaron but does dabble in light magic as well. Always tries to one up Jerick so, yeah.” Shane explained when he saw Danny’s confusion. “He’s just being a moody baby.”

“Didn’t know you guys were so close.” Danny commented before he realized this would probably be one of those times when Roy would tell him he’s overstepping.

“It’s complicated.” Shane admitted tilting his head to get a better view of the other two men embracing one another.

“Oh…” the lightbulb in Danny’s head went off. “When you said you’re seeing 2 different guys I thought you meant like…not this.”

“It’s an open relationship type thing, we realized we’re a great team together and decided to give this a try. See what happens, no strings attached.”

“Someone end up connecting those strings?” Danny asked seeing the twinkle in Shane’s eye when he looked at his loves.

He knew Justin more as Alaska, his drag persona, but that was just because they had done one or two shows together and Shane had talked about him here and there but he’d never have imagined they were together.

Especially not in this way.

“Everyone connected those strings.” Shane laughed, he didn’t say it in a way that made Danny get the impression he was unhappy with the situation. Quite the opposite actually.

“Jerick’s here.”

“What? How’d you know?” Shane turned his attention back to Danny just as the doorbell rang.

“I can feel it.” He shrugged.

“Impressive, Noriega, impressive.” Shane nodded before he showed the ginger in.

As if the everything wasn’t already tense enough the minute the Seattle native walked into the small LA home the atmosphere grew thick with distain. Clearly there was some bad blood between Justin and them but Danny couldn’t figure out what.

He had never heard Jerick speak a bad word about anyone and they obviously didn’t feel any particular way about him seeing as they asked Justin to come help.

However instead of helping like the dark haired beanpole made it evident he had intended to he just rolled his eyes at him and turned his back towards them.

“Babe.” Shane pleaded looking towards Willam to give him a ‘help me out’ look. “It’s for Roy, not for Jinkx.”

“Fine.” Justin caved, cleared unhappy about his decision but when he walked back in past them Shane pulled him in close for a thank you kiss.

Their lips lingering longer than Danny had expected making him feel uncomfortably out of place, enough so that he had to awkwardly turn away.

Jerick did however pop out from behind the bedroom door for a second just to ask Danny if he wanted to help or wait outside.

Fueling is downwards nervous wreck spiraling again so clearly he chose the latter. Making a quick beeline for the outdoor sitting area where he could light another cigarette.

He knew there was nothing he could do to help besides be there for Roy but he didn’t know how. The ride over was already nerve wracking enough.

He had slumped Roy into the back seat after he couldn’t get him to wake up for more than a few seconds at a time and every time he did Roy’s skin would flare up and he’d scream in unbearable pain and pass out again.

A blood curdling scream that rang too loudly once more in his ears right after the door closed behind Justin and Jerick. This time not just for a second but for what felt like an eternity.

His agony radiating through Danny’s body so violently he had to throw his palms over his ears to drown him out and without knowing it scream along.

“I know I give him a hard time but he knows his shits so hey, it’ll be okay” Willam came up from behind him holding his palms over Danny’s for a minute or two longer so he wouldn’t have to hear what was happening. “It’s over, you can stop screaming like a bottom bitch now.”

“I didn’t re…I didn’t know I was…um. Does that make you jealous?” Danny asked taking another cigarette out from the carton next to him when he realized he’d dropped his probably at the same time as his screaming.

He knew the question was intrusive but he had to distract himself and try not to not think of what was happening in the room next to them, a room he was merely separated by a sheet of glass from him.

The same window he sat by and looked out of the first night he spent at Roy’s. The same window that let the bright yellow rays of sun through the curtains every morning wake up their huddled together bodies.

“Nope.” Willam pouted his lips to one side holding his hand out behind him for Shane walking up to them so he could wrap his arm around his shoulders and pull him in for a kiss with the other. “Because I can do this.”

“You taste like his cigarettes.” Shane moaned smiling into his lips.

“You too.” Willam pulled away from their kissing to plop himself down on the neatly decorated outdoor loveseat.

“Sorry.” Shane apologized when he noticed Danny awkwardly turn away from them again. It being the 2nd time in the last 5 minutes telling him loud and clear that he didn’t approve. “We should probably explain.”

“It’s not that.” Danny corrected him. “I just, I…yeah.”

“You want to be kissing grandpa instead of watching us.” Willam jumped in. “I’d be the same.”

“How do you not get jealous? Like someone just looks at Roy and I want to fucking stab them.” He spoke as brutally honest as he wanted fueled by exhaustion and residual anger from seeing Jason.

“Sometimes we do.” Shane admitted taking Willam’s hand. “But it’s not like any of us were together first so nobody feels like this person owns that person or that person owns this person.”

“I’m sorry.” Danny dropped his head feeling embarrassed for snapping at his friends when they seemed so genuinely happy even if it wasn’t exactly conventional.

“I know you meant it out of curiosity not maliciousness.” Shane reached a hand out to pull on his fingers and show him it was okay to ask. “Will, Justin and I just work really well together. Professionally and romantically.”

“Speaking of, why does Justin hate Jerick?” Danny asked, again avoiding a topic he knew would only bring him down.

“Jerick asked if they can join our game. The drag one.” Shane began. “Justin and Detox thought it would be funny to embarrass them if they got a low tally at the end of the year so they said yes.”

“Turns out Jinkxy, who they thought was just some weirdo from Seattle, had a shit ton more in her than they expected and she won that year.” Willam continued as Danny felt himself beginning to unusually quickly calm down from his frenzy.

In all honesty he also began feeling stupid for not picking up on their connection earlier, for not clicking just how easily they seemed to flow and work even when they had a missing third.

“Yeah. And Justin had already been part of our little game for all 5 years it had been going on, Detox for 3, so when someone won who joined 4 months late to the game Justin threw a massive tantrum.” Shane added the last bit almost hesitantly as if he felt like he was betraying his love. “He’s a lot more sensitive than he leads on and sometimes it gets the better of him but he’s a good kid, just doesn’t know how to let go of a grudge.”

“Kid?” Willam snorted.

“You know what I mean.”

“How many years has Roy entered?” Danny broke up their playful bickering.

“The year he won was his first.” Shane did some math in his head before turning to Willam to double check. “We had all been friends with him already but he thought it was stupid till Sharon coaxed him to join.”

“Won and then called it quits. Said he didn’t want to bother to keep track.” As Willam was talking his fingers were dancing in spirals all around Shane’s naked thigh draped over his lap. The shorts he was wearing rising up high enough that Danny could see some fresh bruising on his ass making him blush.

“Honestly think he just stopped caring, he stopped caring about a lot of things around that time.”

“Not caring is the worst there is.” Willam melancholically added ceasing his fingers’ twirling to hold Shane’s hand, clearly a topic that hit too close to home.

“Claimed life’s too full of bullshit already.”

“That’s why he’s that bitter.” Willam said in a tone almost as if he was scolding Shane for letting him get that way.

“He’s always been that way.” Shane defended himself while Danny remained silent, unsure of when to jump in. “Even in high school he said people were too busy with being fake and saying ‘oh I love you, I love you’ that he’d rather say ‘I love you, but you look fucking retarted.’” Shane began laughing.

“You changed him though I think.” Justin added catching him off guard when they didn’t realize he’d been standing in the doorway with Jerick. Both looking absolutely spent.

“I did?” Danny asked surprised.

“You’re the only person who embraces his doucheness.” Shane laughed while Justin came to stand beside where they were sitting, his hand on Shane’s shoulder completing the line up. “And the only one who claps back.”

“Think he likes that, having someone to spar with, someone to take care off.” Jerick smiled making Danny feel more at ease too.

Something about their energy just seemed to bring peace to him, at first he thought it was just because they were always understanding and nice to him but when he recognized a gnawing at the base of his skull he realized it was his powers.

Would make sense, if dark magic could make you feel fear why wouldn’t light magic make you feel at ease with the same simple mind trick?

He never realized just how little he knew about magic till he met Roy’s friends, they somehow managed to always keep him on his toes and teach him something new even when they hadn’t intended to.

“Plus apparently you give great head, girl.” Justin couldn’t resist throwing into the conversation earning him a playful ‘no’ slap from Shane. “And all that ass.”

“He has always liked that big bootied young type.” Willam laughed with Justin in his pig grunting fashion.

“Who doesn’t.” Jerick cheered along.

In all honesty Danny had been so caught up on watching the dynamic between the strange threeway he’d forgotten Jerick was there too.

“Before you ask he’s okay.” The ginger read his mind. “He was just overworked basically, put too much into everything all at once and it was just a lot for his body. He dropped and raised his body temperature too much in succession that he nearly fried his brains too.”

“He’s okay.” Danny wiped his eyes sighing a deep sigh of relief for the first time all night before Jerick walked over to him to give him a well deserved hug.

“Please take care of yourself, never do that.” They held onto the back of Danny’s head showing just how truly scared they’d been behind the confident facade.

“I won’t.” Danny pulled his arms in tighter to hold onto Jerick for far too much needed comfort. “Thank you.”

“Justin helped a lot too so thank him as well.” Jerick smiled swaying Danny side to side before they pulled back to look into his eyes, making a silent pack with him.

“Thanks Lasky.” Danny released him so he can pull Justin up to hug him tightly as well, clocking the proud smiles from his partners next to them.

“I should get going I have a…thing.” Jerick tried explaining as delicately yet awkwardly as possible.

The knowing grin Willam gave them giving away that everyone knew exactly what they were talking about so the ginger made a quick escape before the teasing could begin.

The 3 other men also tried to see themselves out for the night but Danny managed to convince them to stay just in case he needed them later if something happened.

In reality he didn’t want to be alone, and even though Roy was with him in the apartment without getting to hear his voice he felt lonely. Empty almost. Like something in his life was just missing.

He helped Willam get their bed for the night ready in the living room by dragging 3 of the ottomans together next to the corner couch to form one big couch while Justin and Shane were still outside.

Danny’s heart growing full at the sight of Shane so happily cuddled up to Justin while he smoked and especially when the bright smile spread across his sleepy face when Willam joined them.

Pulling their chins up with his fingertips to give each a kiss, a cue for Danny that it was time to leave them and return to his own love.

He closed the door behind him as quietly as possible to avoid disturbing the peacefully sleeping Roy, his fingertips holding onto the door a bit longer as he listened to the loving goodnights echoing from the living room.

A small act of affection he missed now that Roy was already alseep.

According to Jerick his temperature was back to normal again but as he stopped to run his finger softly over his forehead he felt how eerily cold his skin had gotten.

Danny took the minute or two longer than usual while he was getting undressed to watch Roy’s slow breathing.

He always looked so calm, so at peace when he was sleeping that Danny loved to watching him drift off, he could sit and simply watch Roy sleep for hours. Especially right before his eyes shut, right when those tightly furrowed brows would uncurl from the day’s stresses leaving him.

Climbing in under the covers next to him he focused his energy on warming his body temperature just a degree or two like Roy always would for him.

Taking the bundled up man into his arms so he’d instinctively curl into his embrace as he had done many a night before.

“Thanks for being my asshole.” Danny kissed his forehead, nuzzling his head into the unconscious man’s shoulder blade so they’d be as connected as possible, allowing his body to heat up before he drifted off as well. “I love you.”

“Love you too…”

The next morning the permanently set alarm at 5am went off signaling the start of Roy’s day. Despite his struggles from the previous night the stubborn set in his ways queen decided to shrug it off and go about his day as usual.

Danny however he left in bed seeing as even deep in slumber he looked like shit, his eyes red and puffed up like he’d been crying for far too long.

‘Probably over me.’ Roy deducted wiping a strand of hair from his forehead so he could admire his soft features in the dawn light.

“Explains the shitty hangover.” Roy grumbled leaning against the wall when he spotted Willam and Justin spooning on the make shift bed while Shane made coffee.

“Don’t be a bitch he did a good job.” Willam defended his love pulling Justin in closer.

“He sure as hell didn’t do it alone. Who do I need to, thanks, send a gift basket to?” Roy took the cup of coffee Shane handed him examining the freshly scarred bits of flesh on his palms.

“Jerick.” Willam yawned while Shane tried kicking him more awake so him and Justin would take their cups too. “Take some of the yellow pills in my baggy for Danny. It’s by the counter.”

“Y’all do the old switcharoo?” Roy nodded at Justin taking a deep sip of his coffee to prepare himself for waking Danny up.

“We tried but he kept rejecting us.”

“I don’t even think he knew he was rejecting you, he’s got some weird shit going on.” Willam shuddered.

“What do you mean?” Roy stood a little more perked frowning deeply.

To reject someone willingly was easy, if you knew who it was crawling around, knew they’re pattern and of course if you were powerful enough you could simply flick them away.

Rejecting someone unknowingly though. You’d have to go in blind, like you were lost in a pitch black mine field with lead shoes. One wrong flick and you’d end up blowing yourself up too.

“I don’t think he.” Shane stopped to take another sip from his tea and think his words through. “He seems to be able to see and feel things we can’t. Yesterday he knew Jerrick was outside before you could even hear their footsteps.”

“He does that.” Roy nodded thinking on how it related back to what he told him about feeling energy.

“And he was screaming last night. But it wasn’t like he was the one screaming.” Willam seemed more confused than any of them even though he seemingly knew the most. “I think he was unknowingly rejecting you guys because he had taken over your energy. Think you were the one screaming through him while he rejected Jerrick and Justin so they’re energy would be focused on you.”

“He moved energy.” Justin’s lightbulb went off and instantly like startled meerkats they all looked at each other.

“That could be dangerous.”

“And painful.”

“I’ll be gentle.” Roy held his hands up as a silent of way telling Willam to shut the fuck up. “But listen, I appreciate it fag, really. You did a good job I barely feel anything.”

A lie but he was willing to make an exception to his general rules.

He continued proudly praising Justin’s handiwork as he ran his hands through his hair to think things through. He knew Jerick was always careful, using his abilities just enough that he could repair what was needed without leaving a trace of interference.

Justin however was still getting the hang of using light magic rather than dark and often left behind some residual damage, hence the hungover aching in his skull and bones.

“Our little one’s growing stronger isn’t he?” Shane proudly nodded in the direction of the closed bedroom door now that the initial shock had sunk it. “It takes a lot of determination to take on your feelings and push back two other’s abilities.”

“It does, I’m worried that if I wake him he’ll be feeling a fuck ton of leftovers.”

“I’ll try and dampen what I can.” Justin offered up, probably feeling guilty.

Apart from restoring Roy’s abilities back to normal where his body could process and regulate them as needed they also had to go back in and fix up his body.

All while the back of Jerick’s mind worked on keeping Danny’s emotions under wraps and Justin then controlling how much of that he’d feel so he wouldn’t catch on to what they were doing.

A neat trick that could often be used when 2 or more light or dark magicians got together and worked well in unison. Picking up when and where to work so the individual would remain oblivious.

“Roy…” Danny interrupted them emerging seemingly from nowhere behind Roy to walk into his arms seeking some comfort. “My head.”

His voice cracked revealing the pain they were all worried about and instantly Justin sat up straighter to get to work trying to ease him out of it while Roy wrapped his arms around him tightly.

Cradling him like a baby with his free hand keeping his head as still as possible against his neck.

“Shh, just breath baby.” Ry coached him as best he could while the hands against his chest clung onto his shirt. “You want to go back to bed?”

Instead of an answer Danny just nodded slowly, Shane taking the initiative to take his cup from him freeing up his hands so he could pick Danny up and throw his legs around his waist.

Carrying him back to the bed while Shane followed with their coffees.

“We’ll make breakfast don’t stress.” Shane winked at Roy while he caressed Danny’s head. “It’ll be over soon.”

“It hurts.” Danny whined nuzzling his head into Roy’s neck further when he set them down against the headboard.

Danny’s arms wrapping around Roy’s chest, his hands sliding over every new scarred bump on his skin from where he’d burned himself.

“Justin’s gonna try and put you to sleep a little okay, just enough to take the pain away but let him in. Don’t think.” He held his lips tightly pressed against his forehead as if he was protecting him from any further harm when he felt a tear sink into his shirt when fingers found their way over one of the deeper scars. “Sorry you had to see that.”

“I thought you were gonna die.” Danny admitted sniffling softly making Roy pull him in even closer, comforting himself more than he was his love.

“I want you to move in.”

“Why?” Danny asked grabbing a chunk of fabric tighter in his fist to check it was real, feeling Roy’s heartbeat increase.

“So I can look after you.” His voice was solemn, thick with concern. “And so you can look after me.”

“Okay.” He whispered looking up for the first time to see just how weathered and tired Roy’s face was looking, sending another pang of concern through his chest and string of tears down his cheeks. “You said you love me.”

“You said it first I had to.” He faked his usual bullshit disinterested knowing all too well Danny could see right through him.

“You love me.” He retorted sitting up now that his head was starting to feel like his own again.

“I do.” Roy admitted pulling his jaw carefully in for kiss. “I love you.”

“I don’t.” Danny smiled cheekily clearly in a much better mood.

“Don’t make me cook you too whore.” Roy threatened before Danny lunged back at his chest to hug him.

They stayed in the same position for another good 30 minutes while Danny focused on listening to Roy’s breathing to avoid thinking of how badly his head was hurting.

Eventually through the rhythmic drops of his chest and Justin’s aid he grew so peaceful he nearly fell asleep, Roy letting himself enjoy it too before he had to return to the harsh reality of a full day’s work ahead of him.

The only thing knocking him back down from his personal heaven being his 2nd alarm going off to remind himself he had to get going.

“You good?” Roy asked tapping Danny’s forehead.

“Mh-hm.” He nodded scared if he moved too much his head would shake loose again.

“You wanna go grab breakfast?”

“Mh-hm.”

“Want me to carry you?”

“Mh-hm.”

“Not gonna happen you lazy fuck.” Roy slapped his shoulder and slid out from under him leaving Danny behind on the bed pouting.

“You’re a dick.”

“I have to go shower and get ready, go have breakfast with the nutjobs and I’ll join you in a minute.” He turned his back to Danny as he began picking out his outfit for the day.

A simple black long sleeve shirt, light brown chino pants that he knew Danny loved because it showed off his ass and some classic Roy style black sneakers.

“It’s alive!” Shane shouted throwing his hands up in the air when Danny came strutting out the bedroom scratching his butt.

“And it’s so classy.” Roy scolded slapping his hands out of his black boxers that he stole from Roy weeks ago. “Get your hand out of your ass you slut.”

“Why? Your head need the space?” Danny snapped back licking the side of his mouth making Roy shake his head at his cheek.

“Meowr.”

“We need a change.” Danny suggested as he popped a cherry tomato into his mouth.

Like he had done every day at noon like clockwork Danny had showed up at the costume studio where Roy was hard at work to bring him lunch.

“Like what?” Roy slapped his boyfriend’s hand away from his salad.

“I don’t know.” He pulled his shoulders up lazily running his finger over details on Roy’s watch. “By the way, how you feeling?”

“Cold. Still.” He shuddered pulling down his rolled up sleeves. “Think Jerick broke me.”

“They fixed you, that’s what a normal person feels like.” Danny rolled his eyes taking Roy’s hand.

“Yeah whatever.” He smirked turning his hand to hold Danny’s better. Checking the damage that remained from his display of rage that the others couldn’t fully fix. “You overworked yourself, you’re overworking yourself now you need a break.” Danny tried pleading as his hand ran up from Roy’s towards his cheek.

“I can’t.” Roy sighed leaning into his palm. “I have shit to do, you know that.”

“Fine. You have a week to do it then we’re going on a vacation together.” Danny stated very matter of factly, his grin unbearably big.

“The show isn’t for 2 weeks.”

“You have two weeks then.”

“Smartass.” Roy laughed kissing the back of his hand so he can resume eating. “But sure, I’ll bite, where would we go?”

“I don’t know. Anywhere, everywhere.” Danny scrunched his nose up to think of a destination. “New york?”

“Too many queens.”

“Hm…Seattle?”

“Too cold and wet.”

“Vegas?”

“Too loud.”

“New Orleans?”

“Too home.”

“Uh…Florida?”

“I’m not old enough yet.” Roy cynically laughed before Danny tried thinking of more places.

“Pennsylvania?”

“Too sharon.”

“So fucking picky.” Danny laughed as Roy smugly smirked taking another bite if his food. “Texas?”

“Too…actually.” Roy nodded pulling out his phone. “Not a bad idea.”

“Really?” Danny perked up.

He’d been to Texas a few times to visit a friend of his and knew the state better than most of the others he mentioned even if they weren’t as glamorous.

“A friend’s there.” Roy smiled digging through his phone to find the page of the friend in question before he sat back rubbing his chin. “God wonder how he is haven’t spoken to Kam in forever.”

“Kam?” Danny’s jealously began bubbling.

“Dane, Kameron’s his drag name. We lived together for a bit when I did a gig there.”

“You?” Danny snorted, his jealousy being temporarily thrown out as he imagined Roy riding a cow in full cowboy gear. “In texas?”

“Shut up.” He threw a piece of bread his way. “I taught classes there on wigs and Dean’s a hairdresser so we just hit it off.”

“We go.” Danny slammed his open palm on the table causing their meal on the already dodgy table to shake around.

“Just eat your food.” Roy scolded tilting his head to observe the goofy full cheeked smile Danny had plastered across his face enjoying his victory. “What?”

“Nothing.” Danny chimed sticking his tongue out. “You love me.”

#rpdr fanfiction #biadore #bianca del rio #adore delano #aaa girls #magic au #playing with fire #imafuckinglibra #tw blood #tw violence #submission #tw r slur #m/m au #queen au #poly

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charged-to-be-free · 5 years

Text

The Prowler

As soon as the elevator stopped, Megatron heard heavy metal footsteps coming towards his cell. Someone opened the doors that were keeping him isolated from the rest of the building and switched on the light. It felt like someone has punched him in the faceplates.

Megatron lowered his head and closed his optics, grinning. He spent so much time in the darkness that his vision became a bit sensitive to the brightness. He had to give it some time to recover.

“Megatron.” He heard a familiar monotone voice of a very moody policebot.

“Prowler!” The rebel cheered, slightly opening back his optics. He was able to see a blurry white and grey Cybertronian. His blue and red accents were reflecting the light and colouring his paintjob into at least four different colors which was rather funny. He came to the room and frowned dangerously when he heard the nickname Megatron gave to him a couple of years ago.

“How many times have I told you to not call me like that.” Prowl walked to his little station next to Megatron and sat down, pulling out a datapad. He was filling reports on the rebel’s condition. Every five seconds he would look up and check his results on a gigantic screen behind him. A normal job, yet very risky. At least that’s what he said they say.

“...Was there a traffic somewhere?” The ex leader asked, turning to Prowl.

“No.” Prowl replied, not looking away from his datapad. “Why?”

“You were late.” Megatron explained. ”You’re never late.” The policebot finally rose his head and gave the other a weird look. “Just because I was assigned to waste my time with you, doesn’t mean I don’t have other things to do. I had a work, I dealt with it, and now I’m here. End of the story.”

The Decepticon rose his optical rigid. Prowl seemed nervous. More nervous than usual that is. Something must have happened. The policebot reached for another datapad that was already in the room and activated it. He tapped a few buttons and after a second, a small picture of Megatron appeared with his heat signature. Everything seemed normal, but there was a small area on his chest that was considered highly questionable. His sparkchamber appeared to have a higher temperature than it should and it was still rising. Prowl seemed to know what it was. His expression grew a bit out of focus. “Did you get your Energon today?” He asked, looking back at Megatron.

“Depends when ‘today’ has started.”

“Ten cycles ago.”

“Really?” Megatron asked, grinning. “Oh well then, someone’s being lazy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Before I answer, can I ask you a personal question?” He was pushing it. He knew this was propably a bad idea, considering the situation he was currently in, but he grew curious. The guards of the prison had a special schedule prepared for him. A very specific and detailed schedule of his refueling which made the rebel really suspicious. He guessed that the rest of the prisoners haven’t gotten the same treatment as he did. After some time he figured out that it might be connected to his unusual spark temperature. Ever since the experiment, it was occuring in the very specific moments, and was diappearing whenever he got his Energon rations. He figured out that this couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Megatron, I swear to Primus-”

“What will happen when I won’t get my rations regularly? Would that be a problem?”

“I don’t know what you’re playing in, but I need this information. This is part of my job, and if you’re not going to answer me-”

“What if I told you that I haven’t had any Energon for half of a mega-cycle?”

“... Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“...Fragging... Ugh!” Megatron’s keeper grunted his denta and hit the table with his fist. His doorwings dangerously rose and he tightnened his grip on the datapad. There he went.

“I’ll be right back.” He hissed, standing up and heading towards the exit. “I need to check on something, try to stay alive while I’m gone.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” The Decepticon stated. Prowl ingored him and went to another room to check the situation there, locking the door. Just like that he proved for the rebel that this was indeed a problem. He just didn’t know precisely what it was.

Megatron expected to be left alone again when he heard another footsteps, smaller than the policebot’s, coming from the vents. Way smaller. He rose his head and looked around. Thankfully, Prowl left him with the light on. How nice of him.

Suddenly, a crate in the wall before him began shaking. It didn’t take much time to break, revealing a slim figure sliding out of it and coming closer to the Decepticon.

“It has been some time.” The figure spoke in a raspy purr, sitting before him and waving it’s tail. Megatron immediately recognized the figure and the voice. Without any control over himself, he smiled, looking down at the new arrival.

“Yes, it has. Hello, Ravage.”

#tranformers #transformers metal force #tf #tf mf #ravage #tf ravage #megatron #tf megatron #minibean writing #autobot prowl #tf prowl #my universe

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purplebenjy · 4 years

Text

1998

For the second time in his life, Benjy Fenwick had just been dumped. And it still sucked.

What had happened with Ollie had been as close to amiable as break ups could be, but what happened with Lisa cut deep.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

She’d said this against his lips when his hands were under her shirt. He’d laughed, thinking she was joking because she didn’t like what he was doing, but when Lisa had pulled away fully, Benjy had stopped laughing. He redid his pants and sat up in his back seat of the Honda Civic his brothers all pooled together to buy him for his sixteenth.

“Uh, okay? Why?”

Lisa had shrugged and fixed her blouse.

“I’ve got a crush on someone else.”

Jealousy had bloomed in his chest by then and Benjy felt his jaw twitch when he spat out the word “who?”

Lisa fished a pack of cigarettes out of the front pocket of her jeans and lit up. Annoyed, Benjy leaned over her and rolled down the window.

“Does it matter?”

Benjy sucks on his bottom lip for a second.

“What’s he got that I don’t?”

It was pathetic and he knew it, but he was blindsided. He thought things were going good. Not great, but good. Lisa was hot with long blonde hair and good tits. Not great, but good. She liked the same bands as he did, always dated skateboarders and tried to look like Courtney Love. She’d taken one of his flannels and hadn’t given it back and sometimes she blew him in his car after they went to the movies. It wasn’t love, but he was having a good time with her. He liked her a whole lot and she gave him attention and clout among his friends. He figured they’d at least go to prom together in a few months. Benjy watched as she shifted a little in her seat, ashed her cigarette out the window.

“He’s just different, Benjy. I don’t know.”

“Different how?” He tried to keep his voice level, but it still cracked. He reached for her hand but she pulled away.

“You’re a little uh....gay.”

He stared at her as she turned her face to look out the window.

“Groovy.” Benjy muttered, before sliding up and over the center console and into the driver’s seat. He punched the radio off, cutting Cheryl Crow off mid song. They sat in silence, the only sound Benjy’s exhaust. He pulled up in front of Lisa’s house and his brakes screeched as he parked.

“Benjy...” He flicked his eyes up to the backseat to look at her.

“It’s nothing personal.”

Before he could even say anything, she slid out of his back seat and was gone. This sentence has been haunting him ever since. It’s been two days and today when he saw her after fifth period, she was sucking face with that asshole named Trent.

Benjy doesn’t quite remember what happened after that, just Trent’s fist in his face and now his lip is swelling up. He cut the rest of the day and now he was here in the skatepark, trying and failing to try the new kind of flip he’d been practicing for weeks.

“It’s nothing personal.”

“Shit-“

He falls hard on his back, his board going up the half pipe and then falling back down to hit him in the ribs. As he slowly gets up, Benjy decides one thing;

It’s time to make it personal.

It starts out innocent enough, a couple cans on spray paint that he finds on clearance at the hardware store. Finding Asshole Trent’s car is easy too, he’s got a racing stripe on a fucking Jeep. He’s a surfer instead of a skater if the stupid board on the top of his stupid car is any stupid indication. Benjy doesn’t stalk them per se, just follows them to the beach. And waits in his own car until they run off into the waves. And pulls his sweatshirt tight around his face when he runs out of his car, low to the ground, doing a somersault partially to cover more distance but also cause it’s fun. He stands out wildly at the beach, and when he glances around, he sees a mother start to pull her two children in the opposite direction, glaring at him. Benjy snorts out his first laugh in two days and shakes the spray paint can, spraying the day-glo orange over the white Jeep with its stupid green racing stripe;

“Nothing personal.”

Trent’s stupid car, now complete with Benjy’s new tag, was the talk of the school. Most people were able to figure out it was him, but no one beyond Lisa and her new surfer girl aesthetic seemed to care. Benjy had a new hobby. The nothing personal tag started showing up all over his high school campus and around town, usually in whatever color was on clearance that week.

Suki was taking on extra kids during the day as a pseudo daycare so she didn’t have the time to notice that Benjy was late nearly every day thanks to either detention or running around, tagging the town. She didn’t notice, not at all, until he got a ride home in the back of a police cruiser.

All he was trying to do was to tag “nothing personal” on a wall on the side of an alley, when he’d gotten spotted. He’d stopped wearing the hoodie, mostly cause it was warming up but also cause it kept fucking with his hair-naturally that would be his downfall. Benjy’d been so good at out running the cops, so good at climbing trees and dirt mounds and sides of buildings to get away, but the bane of his existence, of course, was a chain link fence. The cop had basically picked him off the links like an apple and had detained him easily, pushing Benjy up against the fence after he’d pulled him down in a way he didn’t totally hate after he’d noticed how built the cop’s arms were. Pissed at himself for getting caught and at this strangely hot cop for catching him, Benjy refused to tell him anything, which resulted in a very confusing search for his wallet after he’d been handcuffed. The cop marched Benjy back to his squad car and all but thrown him inside. He hears the cop call in his name to the radio, reading it off of his driver’s license. He hears something he can’t quite make out and from his spot in the backseat through the bars, he sees hot cop balk.

“Are you sure?”

“Affirmative.”

The car’s engine flips over.

“Where do you live, kid?”

“Get fucked.”

Hot Cop mumbles something and his car squawks once as he starts to back up. And now Benjy still sat there, in the backseat with the bracelets digging into his wrists as the cop talks to his mom. Benjy hears the sound of another car pull up behind them and he twists around just in time to see the person get out of the car. And when Benjy sees who it is, fear shoots through him for the first time that afternoon.

It’s Alastor Moody, his dad’s old partner. He’s not in uniform like the hot cop, instead he’s in a pretty nice suit. When Al looks into the window, Benjy shrinks back into the seat. He watches him as he speaks to the other officer, who then nods and gets into the car Moody showed up in. He twists back around and something tugs at his chest when he watches his mom wipe at her face, obviously upset. He didn’t get why this had to be a big deal, it was just a stupid wall. He wasn’t hurting anyone, if anything he was making a boring thing look better. He sits up straighter now, his argument formed, but it dies in his throat when Al opens the driver side door and wordlessly starts the car. Benjy waits for him to say something, anything. For him to start yelling at him, tell him he’s a disappointment, a delinquent, anything. But nothing. Just silence. Especially when Moody punches off the radio.

“Are you going to read me my rights or what, old man?”

He’s trying to goad him, and it works. Kind of. Moody quietly rolls into a stop and glances up at him in the review mirror.

“You’re not under arrest.”

Somehow this makes Benjy more uneasy. He tugs at the handcuffs, making them clink.

“Then can you take these off?”

“Nope.”

Benjy grunts and props himself up against the door, chin on the windowsill, as much as he can be to be out of view of Al.

They drive for what feels like half an hour, but is probably ten more minutes, getting further out of the middle of town.

“Al?”

“So it’s Al now, not old man?”

“....are you going to kill me?”

Alastor chuckles darkly.

“Probably not.”

“Do you have your gun on you?”

“Do you need me to answer that?”

“Shit.”

He hears Moody chuckle again, and before Benjy knows it, they’re on the Golden Gate Bridge, driving out of the city completely.

“Are you taking me to military school?”

“Shut up, Benjy.”

He does, the events of the past few weeks playing in his head. Lisa. The tag. “You’re a little uh...gay.” Nothing personal. His mom crying. His spray paint covered hands forced behind his back right this moment.

“Al?”

“You’re really bad at following directions.”

“Do I seem too gay to you?”

The eyes that flick back towards him at the next stop light are confused now.

“Are you gay?”

“No.”

“But you....”

“You can be with guys and not be gay.”

“Okay okay, bite my head off. I’m trying to learn. So what’s seeming ‘too gay?’”

Benjy shrugs as best as he can.

“I dunno. Like I’m not masculine enough or something. Fucked up and wrong. Weird or girly or something-“

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” Al says forcibly, before hitting his turn signal and exiting the freeway they were now on. “Well I mean, you’re a degenerate-“

“And artist-“

“-but other than that. Nothing. Got it?”

“Yeah.” Benjy sits up properly now, not totally believing him. They’re quiet again, but it’s not the scary quiet from before, it’s different. Loaded. Benjy waits a few more minutes before he breaks it.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Yes.”

“....did I uh, say sorry about that yet?”

Moody pulls over, getting out of the car and sliding into the backseat beside Benjy. He undoes the handcuffs and clips them to his belt.

“I’m not the one you need to be sorry to, Benj.”

“Well is someone else gonna come and kidnap me so I can apologize to them-I’ll shut up now.” He cuts himself off based on Moody’s look. “Who do I need to be sorry to? My mom?”

Moody sighs and gets out of the car, walking around the front to open the other door.

“Get out. Do you know where we are?”

“Uh...” He looks around, seeing older kids with backpacks, some on bikes and skateboards. Someone’s playing guitar on a bench. “Somewhere with hippies?”

Moody chuckles, ushering Benjy to the sidewalk.

“You’re not wrong. This is UC Berkeley, Benj. Your art teacher thinks you’re good enough to get in here if you keep going in the way you’ve been. And I mean, I don’t know nothing about nothing but from what I’ve seen, I don’t think you’re too shabby either . But you know who they don’t let in?”

It clicks as Moody stares him down.

“.....I’m guessing people with arrest records?”

Moody claps him on the shoulder.

“Bingo. I’m not ever gonna bail you out like this again, kid. I did this for your mom and your dad, yeah, but uh...I mostly did it for you. This looks a lot better to me than prison but...”

Moody shrugs.

“If you wanna throw away something great, that’s your choice. But if you do, the only person you’ll need to say sorry to is yourself.”

Moody lets go of his shoulder and gets in the car. Benjy stares at campus, the ideas Moody planted wiggling around in his brain. He could get in here? People thought he was good enough? He looks a little closer at the people sitting on the grass. They’re dressed a little strange, loose clothes and long hair and just...different. Like him.

He turns to the police cruiser window, hitting it with his knuckles until Moody cracks it.

“Are you sure there’s nothing wrong with me?”

“Other than too much energy and a bad haircut? No.”

“Rude.” Benjy fails to hide his smile in a scowl. His smile grows as he looks at campus. It looks a lot more fun than prison; or even just regular old high school. A strange thrill shoots through him when he notices one of the students on the grass is laying on the lap of another boy. They’re talking about something and the boy laying down laughs before reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind his boyfriend’s ear. Someone whizzes past him on roller skates and breaks the moment. Benjy turns back to the car window.

“Can I get a ride home?”

Moody takes a sip from his travel mug.

“Only if it’s in the back seat.”

Benjy groans.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Oh, and your mom told me to tell you you’re super grounded.”

“I figured.” Benj says with a shrug of his own as he casually opens the back door of the cop car and throws the few people across the street giving him strange looks a grin and a wave as he hops in.

“You keep the meter running?”

“I can still arrest you.”

Benjy laughs, suddenly a lot lighter. He sits on the side closest to campus so he can look at for as long as possible as Moody drives away.

“Al?”

“Yeah?”

Benjy leans forward as close to him as he can, face pressed up against the bars.

“Thanks.”

Al just nods, turning on FM radio.

“Don’t fuck it up.”

Benjy settles back in his seat, fingers twitching as he already wants to get home and sketch, suddenly much more motivated. He’s hoping he’s not grounded from that. He wants to get home and apologize, maybe even grovel and try to make it up to his mom. Unfortunately, right before they get to the bridge, they hit rush hour traffic. Benjy shifts in his seat, pressing his face against the bars again.

“Can you turn on the siren?”

“Nope.”

“Pussy.”

It might be a trick of the light, but he swears he sees Moody smile.

#drabble #moody #suki

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cupped-socks · 5 years

Text

Day 1: Shaky hands

I’ve never participated in Whumptober, but there’s a first for everything! I’ve made a thing, short little original thing based off of one of my roleplays. It’s light and has very little content, but... I had time and it felt good xD

Summary: After returning from the park, Morgan notices a change in Nessie’s behaviour. She’s moody. After investigating a little, he finds that his daughter was spanked earlier and that’s something no omega parent is ever keen to hear.

[Read on AO3]

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It was so incredibly unnerving.

There was no need for Morgan to announce himself as he entered the kitchen where Zachary was washing dishes in the sink. The scent that wafted in burned the alpha's nostrils, a scent akin to that of pine smoke that Zachary had rarely been able to pick up on his mate. Morgan was angry, really angry.

"So..." The omega leered at him from the archway, leaning, arms crossed over his chest. "You don't have anything to say?"

"What would you have me say, Morgan?" Zachary bit back.

"You could start with why, in your right mind, would you think that striking our daughter would be a good idea!" Morgan spat at him, the usual honey in his voice gone and replaced with a venom. There wasn't much that Zachary could say now that would earn him any sort of favour out of the omega. They both knew that, whatever Zach would have to say, wouldn't be good enough as a defence.

The alpha had to weigh every single word. Zachary pivoted his torso, turning to look at his mate from the corner of his eye, and kept his voice low, "Listen, Morgan..."

Mistake.

Before Zachary could finish, Morgan launched for him, grabbing as much of the alpha's collar as he could. "Don't!" Zachary's breath was stolen straight out of his lungs. Morgan kept berating him, "You raised your hand on your daughter! Do you realize that? Have you lost your mind!?"

"I have my reasons, Morgan." Zachary tried to level his scent.

Zachary's wet hands came up to grasp at the fists that formed at his neck. Zachary didn't try to break the omega's grip over his collar, but he wouldn't stand to let his mate shake him much longer.

"Reasons!?" Morgan parroted, but with a growl. "How about I beat your face into the counter?"

"Morgan..."

Zachary tightened his grip around the omega's wrist until the other released his collar with a huff and a push. "No! Why would you hit her!?" Morgan closed his mouth, his jaw tightening painfully, and he waited for a reply. Zachary didn't answer. The omega scoffed, pacing angrily between the table and the chair. Morgan sat down, only to stand right back up. "God, you piss me off... You're sleeping on the couch." Morgan turned from the alpha, an eerie calmness in his voice.

"No! No, Morgan, wait!" But the Omega wouldn't have him. Morgan carried on his way, stomping from the kitchen and towards the staircase. Desperate, Zachary used a tactic that he knew would come back to bite him in the ass, " Morgan, stop! " And Morgan stopped, freezing halfway up the stairs. He was silent and hurt, Zachary could tell. The burn in the omega's scent had completely subsided, in the blink of an eye, his scent was submissive. Zachary's heart pinched and his throat became dry.

"What?" the omega asked, a tremble in his voice.

Morgan refused to look at Zach, but the alpha could see it clearly, even despite the low light. Tears had trickled down the omega's cheeks and, while he made sure to breathe as quietly as he would had he been calm, his chest moved as though he was heaving. And his hand, the one on the railing, shook despite how hard Morgan must have been gripping at the railing.

Zachary's next words had little meaning to them, "I'm sorry, Morgan... Please, just come down."

The omega did as he was told. No longer compelled by Zachary's voice, however, he did so more out of spite than anything else. He wanted the alpha to feel that burning in his heart, that sting, as he was responsible for all of this. His eyes were dark, completely lacking the healthy lustre the omega usually had to his look. His nose was scrunched and his brows furrowed as he slowly came down the steps, each a little bit more agonizing than the last. This was all deliberately done to guilt the alpha and it worked.

Morgan walked past the alpha, with nothing to break the silence save for the soft shuffling of the omega's socks across the wooden steps.

When he reached that last step, Morgan looked up. The darkness and the shadows danced across the omega's face and cast upon his calm features a wicked scowl that froze Zachary's blood. The omega kept his voice low, tempered, "How dare you." Zachary's jaw hung at a loss of words. Suddenly his throat wasn't only parched, but his entire mouth and lips had gone absolutely dry.

Zach gulped a lump, and then another. His eyes drew to the floor as the omega dropped the last step, his foot landing so silently against the tile, despite how heavily it seemed to weigh on the alpha. "Morgan..."

"Will you stop saying my name like it's gonna change anything?" The question was rhetorical. Zach caught the omega's eyes again. While Zach's stare had diverted from his mate, Morgan never looked away. It was a daunting experience to feel so torn between standing his ground and the possible tornado he would unleash. All the alpha had to do was say the wrong thing. "Today, you hit Nesri-"

"I know! But I-" Zachary interrupted Morgan, only to have his mate raise a finger in his face with a stern look.

"You hit..." Morgan repeated, his voice low, but calm, "You hit Nesrine, today. And you try to command me ." Zachary couldn't meet Morgan's stare, even when the other took a hold of the alpha's chin between his index and pointer finger, and forced Zach to look down on him. Morgan's hand shook, trembling like a leaf despite the calmness in his voice, in his scent. Zachary could feel it.

Even as Morgan stood before him, straight, unyielding, he was still frightened. His shaky hands were a clear sign. Zachary could only chock pathetically under his breath, "I'm sorry..."

"Sorry for what? For hitting my daughter, your baby ?" Morgan poked at the alpha's chest. "Or are you sorry for using your voice on me?" Zachary obviously had no answer that would suit the omega; he didn't feel guilty for spanking his daughter, but he did for trying to force Morgan into submission. If the alpha was to say that, though, Morgan would surely lose his mind. His lack of reply was answer enough to Morgan. "Yeah... That's what I thought. Lay your hand on one of my kids again, Zach. It'll be the last thing you ever do."

The night ended there, with those last words.

Morgan had turned on his heels and had gone to their bedroom, whereas Zachary had remained downstairs. The alpha had considered climbing the stairs and sneaking into their bed once Morgan had gone to sleep. He decided against it and stayed downstairs, on the couch, until Wesley woke up the next morning.

As he usually would, Zachary woke up alongside the pups. Each would wake up and come down on their own, at their own pace. Elijah and Flynn were usually the last to come down, but today, Nessie and Morgan were the last ones to join them at the breakfast table.

Morgan acted as though nothing had changed, sitting with Nesrine in his lap, scolding the kids when they wouldn't eat their breakfast properly, watching the news and weather channel. He was happy to have this morning to enjoy the company of their five kids -Milo had stayed the night at Aiden's house. He hadn't addressed the alpha, though, let alone look at him. But Zachary didn't mention any of it. Morgan was probably still angry and, he figured, anything he would say at this point wouldn't help in the slightest. Eventually, the kids would finish their breakfast and don their coats before the bus came to pick them up for school. And so Zach would be alone with Morgan and Nesrine.

He bit down on his lip and on his pride. "You're going into work late, today?" The omega nodded, his focus unwavering from the television. Zachary came up behind him, leaning his palms on the side of the chair's back, and chipped, "It's nice that we could have you for breakfast, today. I know the kids really appreciate it." Again, Morgan didn't bother answering. Zach clicked his tongue, nodding defeatedly. "Okay..." He let his fingers brush the omega's shoulder as he moved away from the breakfast table.

If Morgan didn't want to talk, then they didn't have to talk.

Zachary listened to the television as he sorted through the fridge. He was picky about how the items within were placed and every day, after every meal, he would make sure that everything was in place, in order where it should be, where he wanted it to be. He would tuck away the leftovers neatly and prepare easy meals for the kids, for school and for when they came home or simply wanted something quick and easy, something they could just stick in the microwave. Zachary commented on the news, about the traffic report, as he carefully labelled each tupperware. At best, Morgan would hum. Eventually, Zachary fell quiet as he turned his attention to the dinner her would prepare his family that night.

Morgan would react to Nesrine when she came to him. Zachary would react to Nesrine when she came to him. Morgan wouldn't react to Zachary, however.

"What happened?" Zachary didn't react to the question, convinced Morgan addressed it to their daughter. It wasn't until Morgan whistled and snapped his fingers that Zach looked at him. The omega was placid in his body posture, comfortably leaned over the back of his chair with his feet up onto the seat of another chair underneath the table. His voice was also soft, almost as melodious as it usually was, "Hey, I'm talking to you."

"What?" Zach blinked. "Sorry, what?"

"What happened?" Morgan repeated the question, but Zachary's confused frown made it obvious the alpha had no idea how to answer. "Yesterday... What happened with Nesrine? Why did you spank her?"

"Oh," Zach averted his eyes. He kept himself busy as he spoke, as though doing so would cover up the crack in his voice. "A lady came to us, at the park, and she asked us to move so she could swing her kid..."

"She asked you to move?" Morgan sounded aggravated.

"Yeah... all the swings were taken."

"So, this random lady asked you to stop swinging with Nesrine so that she could swing with her kid?"

Zachary stopped, placing both of his hands on the counter's surface. He hesitated to explain, "She was... An omega, you know? All the other swings were taken by omegas with their kids. I was the only alpha there. It kind of just... happens." Zachary shrugged his shoulders. "It's not the first time this kind of thing happens, but it was the first time Nesrine threw a fit..."

Morgan scoffed, "So you spanked her because this random lady couldn't wait for a fucking swing to free itself?"

"No, I spanked her because she grabbed a handful of sand and shoved it in my face because that random lady couldn't wait for a swing to free itself," Zachary corrected. There was a pause between the two of them where their eyes met. Hoping to alleviate some of the awkwardness that tickled him, the alpha concluded with, "And it hurt." His jaw clenched, though, when the omega burst into a laughing fit. He let a low, barely audible growl escape him.

"I'm sorry, Zach!" the omega cried after covering his mouth with his hand in an attempt to cover his amusement. "I-I really didn't mean to laugh! No, you're right, this is serious."

"I know!" the alpha exclaimed.

"I'll talk to her..." Morgan nodded exaggeratedly. "Until then... You let a four-year-old smash you in the face with sand... You're such a defenceless alpha, Zachary."

#Whumptober 2019 #Day 1 #alpha/beta/omega verse #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #alpha/beta/omega au #original fiction #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics

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