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sugar-petals · 4 years ago

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sub!Yuzu | nsfw alphabet

🌹 NOTE ⇢ content for our fave figure skater, the legend himself. mr. yuzuru hanyu is 1000% dom candy and i’m here to honor it at length ⛸

— WORDS. 5k

tags + warnings. dom/sub dynamics, femdom!reader, role reversal hc, smut, kinks, cum play, spanking, sex toys, very freaky yuzu, kitten play, mdlb, crying kink, food play, prostate orgasms, bondage, some deeper stuff & angsty bits, asthma mention, aftercare

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Once the cat ears come off, who is Yuzuru Hanyu not to remain in character for a while. For the shits and giggles, and because it’s cozy. Once a catboy, always a catboy, it’s the law of the land. Curling up, kneading at you for the head pats and massages, you know the programme.

Also: Yuzu is famously soft-spoken and always finds the right thing to say. So, stimulating conversation for the cooldown. This is literally so nice. He’s unafraid to reflect everything in detail, say what he preferred, what you could change up together, what he wants to try next. The afterglow is not just physical, as in you give him something to drink, it’s 70% verbal which is very important to him as a consistent habit.

Of course, not to forget: Always gotta have a Winnie Pooh plushie ready. He embraces it readily and, as we know him, does some roleplay right then and there. Yuzu, professional cutiepie he is, is the kinda sub who treats all plush and pillow stuff as alive and breathing. You as his domme are in on the play and also treat his things as holy as they are to him. That Yuzu lets you into that world is the biggest compliment you can possibly get.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

We all know Yuzu’s godly ass and thighs. Or the staggering waist and beautiful black hair that makes him a total bombshell in his classic comb-back styles. His face is soft and expressive and so damn unique, his legs muscular and long, his back and tummy chiseled, the list goes on and on. Jesus, he has so many great features. All body parts a masterpiece. That are all capable of god-tier contortionism on top of that, gotta mention it in passing. Just so you know if you haven’t seen him bend his every limb into directions you wouldn’t believe are humanly possible.

Interestingly though. If he chooses, Yuzu picks his feet: They are his most important instrument and weak spot. His ankles are where the magic happens. So, you taking care of them a little would mean the world to him, imagine a candle light massage. Not to worry, no-gross-alert. Yuzu has perfect and cute feet. That’s gonna be a Victorian moment, oh my god I saw his ankles. For his partner, short and simple: He likes a shoulder to lean on. He loves being touchy in general, all body parts are amazing to him. Being in a profession that’s all about the physics, Yuzuru knows about the wonders of the body.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Certified king of cumsluts, doesn’t even hesitate. The more, the merrier. If he’s not covered in sticky stuff, Yuzu would be underchallenged. It’s less about the taste, texture or any degradation, for him it’s the playing around with his tongue. Somebody wants his mouth preoccupied. Give the cat his milk. Feed him his own cum mixed with yours. He’s gonna lap at it and swallow.

Since Yuzu’s dream is a mommy domme baking him something, he just loves the smell of dough and hazelnuts and cinnamon and everything — you know what’s coming: Imagine the food play. Nuts indeed. Anything that even remotely looks like a creampie is something he wants to get his lips on. And Yuzu is not the type to be a foodie at all, let that sink in. Sexual-looking food is just too big a temptation, though. And you spoiling him that way... oh my. Surefire way to end up in bed right after.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has a butt plug collection. Once almost went on the ice with one in. The more you know. Also— this guy is the kinda type fantasizing to get absolutely railed on a bed of plushies. He has troubles suggesting it to you because he doesn’t want them to get actually dirty. But the idea gets the two of you kind of horny. Sometimes, a thought is better as a fantasy than actually executing it. You can use it for riling up’s sake, whispering it to him during dirty talk. How you’ll bounce on him and ruin him and milk him while he’s splayed out so innocently on your bed. I smell corruption kink.

Another secret Yuzu keeps is just how much he changed his mind about wanting his partner to control everything in bed. He grew up with a pre-defined ideal type of a cute, nice skater girl who’d let the reins very loosely around him, who he can speak Japanese to because he had problems with English, who is small and someone he will protect. It wasn’t something based on experience and trying things out: It was simply expected of him. People wanted the domineering Yuzuru on ice to be that way in private, and make use of his power, be a man, savior, boss.

The reality being: He never felt truly as tough on the ice, nor was he gender-conforming in person. In fact, that is what he became famous for, and it reassured Yuzuru very often how people would accept and actually celebrate this side of him. Which is so refreshing, and a sight to see. The side that was dorky, clingy, childish, gorgeous, and cute has always been there, but now he embraces it more as his comfort place. He has to know what he’s doing in his skating programme and show competitive spirit to achieve his dreams, but that’s where it stops.

His former ideals are something people wanted to hear, it was an adaptation of the environment rather than thinking it through on his own. So, years later — oh boy have things changed. Yuzuru no longer defines his ideal type that way, saying whoever he likes is someone he’d be with. What was a fantasy template and filter is now gone and adapted to his newfound, own preferences. Yuzu is comfortably open-minded rather than being a copy to mainstream. He found fun in speaking English, opened up to the world at large, had more girls around him who he could befriend, grew more confident in his stature, and is well aware — turns out he’s the cute one. Who needs to be taken under a wing. He likes strong-minded girls and says if he had a wife, she’d dominate him. Yuzuru secretly wants her to be in charge entirely, she owns his body and soul. Not in daily life where things are just normal and everyone goes about their business. Sexually, where he surrenders instead, and is taken care of.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

The tale of an introvert. What he knows — he hides it well. Has eyefucked a whole lot of people and is the type to lust like mad from a far distance, and nobody will ever know. Crushes harder than peppercorns in a mill. If he loves someone, it lingers in his mind every split second of the day, may god have mercy on him. And if you know him: Yuzu aims too high to keep it light and easy and clumsy. He hates being an amateur, he’s terrified of starting out something. He dreads not knowing what to do, how exactly to behave, talk, touch, breathe, respond, negotiate, prepare. That’s a hundred percent like hell to him.

Ironically, he has a natural feeling for it and he’s literally amazing in bed, has a sense for social interaction is all the way cute with something valuable to say. But what he believes is something way different. Yuzuru is a diehard, nervous perfectionist. He can only think of it as a rated performance since his mind usually has to work that way to skate well. His esteem is on a knife edge depending on how well he thinks he does. So, the inevitable: He will shy away from sex altogether. He draws immense skating passion from staying celibate, in fact it’s his success secret, but it still eats him up from the inside and makes him frustrated beyond measure. Not even for the pleasure, since he’s so ambitious that’s almost forgotten about, but for being told he did well.

That’s how much he believes sex is a drill and capability test. And it’s sad that he thinks it’s like his skating career, racking up points for the impossible things judges want and being in a deadlock when it comes to showing his artistic side. He feels thrown into cold water if he doesn’t know everything beforehand. If he ever works up the courage, which probably won’t happen, he will pay an expert to learn from rather than let something all over the place happen with a random person or even someone he might like.

Yes, you heard that right. He’d rather see a sex worker than ‘mess up’ his first time according to his sky-high standards. So, Yuzu’s experience remains limited since he’s so 100% do or die, and so anxious, and so torn about social interaction, he doesn’t get how his peers can be playboys and get married and flirt with someone they like and all that. He sort of has an easier time with guys, but girls... he can’t approach. To top it off, he also feels like he’d burden his first time one somebody or embarrasses himself, so he will reject and avoid suitors. Those are usually not the people he crushes so hard on to begin with. It’s bound to be one-sided and he knows, so he will abstain and focus on career and use the cheers of his fans as a substitute.

Truth is, he feels helpless and distant from sex sometimes, especially with his practice-heavy lifestyle and hyper-smart mind, Yuzuru has an intelligence that exceeds what most people can grasp. He’s alone on the ice and Brian as a coach is often the only reference person who truly gets him, and leads him well without being controlling. But that’s professional life. Sexually, Yuzuru is metaphorically: coachless. He surely observed it well when Javier (the #1 ladies man, his opposite) was still active and a social butterfly helping him fit in, but Yuzu would always be worried about his extreme fame and spotless image when introduced to someone fangirling over him. He’d rather prefer someone who comes across as a mentor and solid, loyal-to-death person to look up to. So he would do anything to have someone benevolent like that. Most girls would expect him to be the sex god and expert, but he knows that’s only half of the story and based on his characters on the ice. Yuzu crafts these to counterbalance how he really is — withdrawn and indirect.

Yuzu is extremely calculating and selective, he scans suitors well, protects his reputation, and is mortified of failure. So, he’d rather learn it by the book and from someone he’s not emotionally attached to. In a one-night stand that might also be the case, but he doesn’t know what to expect, and he’s absolutely terrified of sudden sexual vulnerability. He himself often says he values his own struggle between feeling so weak and being strong again

Besides: He’d have problems squeezing hookups into his schedule and lifestyle, he’d have to cut down on things and create a double life. Plus, Yuzu is famously inept with social interaction up close, he flees the noise and unpredictability. So, it’s better to have a long-term partner. If he doesn’t know something yet, he has it down in one day like the single axel. Definitely counts on his partner teaching him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

We know Yuzu’s signature move is the lean-back Ina Bauer. So, whatever position allows for an arch is the real deal (cough, taking the strap — oh my god his ass is made for it). But anyway, he can pull off anything with that stellar flexibility and core strength.

If I think about it. Yuzu might like sitting on your lap very much. I know it’s not a sex position, I mean it can be once his inner lapdancer awakens or you use a strap-on, I rather mean... just for some sweet moments and making out. But yeah: Fathom Yuzu gyrating on your like that. Not in an outright lascivious manner or Chippendales style. The Hanyu way, with embellishments and all the grace. This is gonna be a huge turn-on and perfect foreplay position.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not much to elaborate here: Yep, Yuzu is true goofball indeed. Really flustered and clumsy when eye-to-eye in missionary, and yet: He’s ultra serious towards the end, there’s gonna be an aggressive staredown before cumming. The feeling gets pretty intense, his duality between silly and ‘yeah, give it to me’ is no joke.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Would probably die from inflammation if he shaved clean under those tight suits and did all these chafe-heavy skating routines. Doesn’t have a lot of body hair to begin with, but for pits and pubes, it’s alive, wild, and decently long. Out of all people, Yuzu cares particularly about aesthetics, but in this case pragmatism will prevail. He doesn’t care too much about it either as long as it doesn’t get in the way of something. Having sex with Yuzu tends to be well um well all about a hundred types of friction so any stubble would be a bad idea.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

You haven’t seen a guy in love like that. It’s a figure skater thing for sure. Since he works to portray these sentiments on the ice daily, hardly anybody can play up feelings so delicately and palpably like Yuzuru. Emotion is what his entire career is built on. He knows how to express himself directly, appropriately, intimately. Couldn’t be any more romantic. Yuzu can’t go without it.

Very passionate, ‘for your eyes only’ kind of atmosphere. Yes, he shows off on the ice, it’s his job (although of course, that word doesn’t really sum up what skating means to him). But private Yuzu is someone you can claim as yours. He will make it clear, he wants to belong to you, he’s yours, dedicated, devotion is the entire point. Less with a slant of what some subs like, very hands-on ownership of a mistress. It’s more emotional. He’s really attached and all smitten. Your private little haven is everything to him.

Talking about little: Yuzu can be quite a pillow prince sometimes. At least when the initiative doesn’t go back and forth as it frequently does, you often alternate with suggestions and ways of tweaking an ongoing play session. You blindfold him or tie his wrists, He might be standard tired from practice or just fascinated to watch you work your magic on him.

He also likes music to set the tone for intimacy, who’s surprised. Prepare: Yuzu likes dramatic classical music all the way. He’s probably one of the few people who can make it more than ‘classy’ and definitely more than cringe. He selects pieces very well. This is gonna be a practice template to cum together when the music reaches its peak. Makes the whole thing full of adrenaline.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Lots of fun to him. Would beat it 24/7 if the ice wasn’t calling him. Drowns himself in lube. This guy’s me-time is so rated R, Cardi B would be inspired to remix WAP to wet ass penis as an anthem just for him. A dry dick is a ruined day for Yuzuru, as is a session without teasing his prostate in whatever way he currently fancies. Once he tried it, he never went back. The intensity knocking him out is something that Yuzu thinks about all the time. Strokes like a pro, does all these little moans, can do it forever, loves the feeling, chases the high. Adrenaline junkie on the ice? No different with his hand around his cock.

Will masturbate everywhere in the house and has to really get his head in the game to make sure he won’t ruin any carpets. So, he always has at least two towels with him. In the kitchen, in front of the TV, in the shower, the bed. Watches his fair share of eclectic porn, he gets really desperate. Especially before you started dating, Yuzu would shut himself in until the lotion ran out. Can jack off to something romantic (he starts crying) or something extreme (he loves shocking himself and ).

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Very curious about sadomasochism. Googles a lot of things that make him hard during the day. Often jawdropped by his research, but once he tries things out with you, nothing can really shock him anymore. Absolutely wants to be collared, it’s his biggest fantasy. Another little secret he has, Yuzu is decked out in skating gloves, right. He wishes he could feel you wearing them, or he keeps them on for sex himself, the lacey transparent ones. Looks especially pretty when his wrists are tied so, major photograpy material. Oh yes, Yuzu likes the camera, he can work it. The guy is photogenic in any position and can strike any angle you want. Your phone background is a new Yuzu snapshot every week already, imagine your gallery, 5800 kinky pictures.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

I’m gonna say it. The frozen lake out of town, late at night, condoms and lube with you. A quickie that will leave your genitals frozen. Yuzu might get stuck inside you because it’s -15 Celsius. Call that fantasy on ice. Jokes aside: Come on, Yuzu is the biggest ever hermit homebody. The couch will have a bunch of indents after your week-long fucking sessions after he comes home training. Also, at his desk while he does work for university. You ride him, Yuzu studies. Double the ambition. His dick is completely sore. The lake out of town thing might go down, but without sex. Just skating together under the stars, Yuzu doing amazing spins and spirals around you, very very romantic.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Yuzu is a crazed Sagittarius. Have you seen these men? They just want it all. Must be the influence of Jupiter. Zeus was definitely vibing that way. And yes, Yuzu has borderline unhealthy gold medal thinking in bed. He wants to be not just good but damn good with pleasing you. If you don’t have a good time and head home without an orgasm, he’ll consider himself a failure. Yuzu won’t cut himself any slack there. You’d have a hard time changing his ways into something more chill and moderate. Instead, you will see the benefits of rolling with it once you see how improvement fuels him and does make sex really mindblowing.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Couldn’t do things like slapping you, spanking. Yuzu makes for a terrible daddy dom, it’d not suit him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Cum-dripping oral mess, Yuzu is the brave kind. Totally into it, and can’t resist a good blowjob. Will act different afterwards, there’s a lot of erotic tension. “This evening again?” is what those eyes are saying.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Outstanding kinesthetic intelligence. Every inch of his body follows his intent, and yours if you have him take on certain ways of kneeling. Yuzu can do it all, whatever you want. Tantalizing, moderato, overwhelmingly fast. He can take it, he can portray it. And knows the value of a pause like a true connoisseur. Not just when he wants to prevent cumming early, also just because the moment is right. That’s why cockwarming is a staple, as well as you having him wait patiently for kisses. To top it off: If you give him a blowjob, building up the tension by doing nothing is damn effective. The ruined orgasms you’re gonna give him... delicious.

Everything’s gonna have nice transitions as well, no awkward climbing and rolling and tangling limbs. If he gets something from another room that you need, no slouching. The university course as good as the extracurricular activities. Being inconsistent with any subsidiary details? Not in the Hanyu household, he’s keeping it classy. Yuzu feels like if he makes the bridges to new positions even remotely messy, the feeling is killed and it’s as if he’d break character mid-skate. Although he’ll have to practice and refine and test a lot of things because he’s not super experienced and adapting to your own movements is an individualized thing to do, he’s a masterclass of quality, period.

Even when things get fast and heated, nothing feels off. Having that kind of body smartness also means: Yuzu learns by touch, whatever you do. He knows by the way you pull his hair what comes next. How much saliva drips off your tongue when you suck at his neck, he knows how hard you’ll to ravage him in five minutes. This guy observes things you aren’t even conscious of because his physical understanding is just so fine-tuned.

The sense of rhythm, and every skating programme of him will showcase that, unbeatable. Unless his mood is really impacted by something severe, your guy feels it in every bone. He’s an artist, after all, he listens to music all the time. Dissecting rhythms to turn them into movement is what his line of work is all about. The pace will always fit the mood. Everything is precise, but never crude. Instead, the way he moves is dictated by an inherent flow. With little accents that match right with any thrust, like putting his hands on your sides when you’re on top of him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Hit it Shakira: Whenever, wherever! He seemingly carries an entire condom factory with him. Or, to be more exact: At least three of them.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

This one’s a complicated case. Yuzu being reckless on the ice may or may not mirror in your private life. He might need some downtime, so bring out the soft domme stuff. No trial and error stuff, just going through a routine of things you love the most. On the other hand, he always gives it all. This guy’s endurance at your hands is amazing. Advanced kinds of BDSM he will not feel deterred from at all. Rough toys, anal hooks, sounding, whips, why not is Yuzu’s motto. But then again. He has such a confusing mix of innocence and feeling like he’s completely hardcore. You might end up experimenting a lot, but also not daring the leap sometimes because the mood is different. And then rather go for softer hours, where Yuzu will be all shy shy and more bursting with excitement than ever. A good, interesting mix is what I’m saying.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Yuzuru, once he gets a bit of practice to gauge the situation... Viagra on two legs, absolute unexpected powerhouse. You might end up pondering to work out a little and go for a run because this guy is in a consistently outstanding shape to say the least. Olympic athletes are literally hard to fuck with. And since Yuzu is starfishing sometimes (which is very adorable), or he’s in bondage for some time, that presents a further problem: For a second round, he’s full of energy, while you already spent energy. So, you alternate with who’s active, and the other leans back entirely. He has to remind himself since his body is programmed for it: This is no contest — the point is feeling good.

You might ride him reverse cowgirl all the way while you watch TV, and after the overstimulation fades he will eat you out ad nauseam, full course slobbering, sweeping the whole menu. That way, it’s less about keeping up with him, which would be hard for most people not doing sports at his galactic level. He understands, Yuzu knows he’s not normal in that regard, you don’t have to worry. Some exercise still doesn’t hurt, just to further increase the quality of sex anyway.

Then again: Why go jogging and do some laps wasting valuable together time when Yuzu’s lap is the best workout? And running doesn’t guarantee your stamina in bed is perfect even if it does help. You rather wanna manage how to draw out the arousal. It’s a self-control thing, with the goal of having you match up in every aspect as good as you can. In which case, you can count on him to pull it off: Have you seen Yuzu doing jumps side by side with a bunch of female skaters? Copy paste. This guy knows how to synchronize with the ladies.

Something that has to be mentioned beside that, though. Yuzu has asthma since 2 years old, and it’s often a mind thing to him still these days. He doesn’t let it stop him from sleeping with you because as always, he’s not letting anything get in his way. He has learned to live and thrive with it. But you both have to mind the possibility of an attack, he prevents it with inhalers, and the mood plays a crucial role. Yuzu being comfortable and confident is so important to his breathing, and keeping a good rhythm rather than being chaotic in bed. So, you will plan most of your sexual activities rather than improvising.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Would stuff an entire sex shop into his every available orifice. Yuzu is a toy freak, he wants to try everything. Motto: a new one every day. Well, almost. But he can afford it. Buys stuff he uses solely on himself, things you use on him, things he uses solo and you use on him, and as the cherry on top, every possible high end vibrator on the market for you. Any size, too. This bitch will browse through the latest innovations, prepare to get off. He’s obsessed with seeing you use it on yourself. Yuzu owns a separate phone just for videos of you buzzing your clit, and him fingering you for minutes and minutes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Extremely so. Loves to be a total brat only to get put into his place. He does it so you’ll pull the chin grab on him. He likes getting choked out as a punishment as well. Yuzu also tends to be very around the corner if you will when it comes to soft subbing, he lays over expecting cuddles but doesn’t say so. Buds his head against your chest, nuzzles, and so on. Lighter forms of teasing come to him very easily. Loves to prompt. Roughhousing, banter, favorite thing.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Moderately loud because his voice is very very light, but unsurprisingly — he’s just beautiful. What a nice tone. Gorgeous whimpering sounds. And when you go hard on him, voice cracks! And really heavy breathing. What’s gonna be the most striking though is his expressiveness. We know it from the ice and interviews, and he can really amp it up even further. No need for screaming, that face will speak the volumes.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

You’ll be blessed with him if you have a huge crying kink. Yuzu definitely opens the waterworks every other week in bed. Happy tears, horny tears, relief tears, aftercare tears, orgasm tears, masochist tears, romantic tears, subspace tears, he has it all. He also begs for the type of pain that makes it stream down his face for minutes. He’s touchy-feely all the way and feels like he can really connect with you that way.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His ass twitching is kind of a spectacle, but I don’t have to tell you, do I. Yuzu has muscles for the gods in there. So voluptuous, you can’t call it any other way. Big booty boyfriend, Jesus you can show him off, he loves it. Around the house, he will flaunt them big ole athlete buns in particular, acting like it’s unintended. Um, Yuzu, those are joggings. Smack it, he is sure to moan.

And may I respectfully mention as well — this guy has some major big ass balls figuratively and literally. How else would someone be motivated to jump a triple axel like it’s nothing. Not kidding, they’re big and round and ugh. His love for tight pants doesn’t help. He knows what your eyes like and dresses just to flex the goods. Screams for more spanking and pinching if you ask me. Yuzu is definitely serving it. Well-endowed, you lucky girl.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Mega horny, ready when you are. On a scale from zero to hundred? Breaching into the 90 percent right there. Yuzu’s hormones are literally insane. On paper he’s 26, but his dick wants the 18th birthday party. Jesus is he gonna be clingy when he’s in the mood. All wrapped around you in a backhug in the kitchen or when you iron a costume of his, and that’s sexy of him. He’s not gonna hide what’s filling out those sweatpants. He’ll desperately grind up against you like it’s Christmas.

Paired with his puppy eyes and little “Do you have some time... I’ll iron this tomorrow” — instant pounce. He’s admittedly a bit hard to keep up with sometimes, though. The reason: With that level of exercise, he has major pent-up energy. That machine is definitely running. Heavy sports changes your hormones, nervous system, and especially blood flow. Now take that to the scale of his performances and regimens? That equals a firework of horny. No wonder he masturbates all the time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Takes some time. He cools down, sweats it out, chugs water. However, don’t underestimate how tired Yuzu can already be. His daily routines and competitions have a toll on him. Ironically, he’s not a deep sleeper, however. Yuzu might toss and turn and have sudden energy bursts, or ideas, or gets hungry. So, he needs his plushies, he needs a weighted blanket, warm pajamas, a hot cup of his favorite warm drink, a light snack, and you by his side. Spooning him excessively and sometimes even humming to him. Yuzu looks like a certified angel on his pillow, his well-deserved rest from everything is so important, too.

NOTE - hope i could indulge you, thank you for reading!

#yuzuru hanyu #figure skating #yuzuru hanyu smut #yuzuru hanyu smut alphabet #yuzuru hanyu x reader #sub!yuzuru hanyu #sub!yuzu #dom!reader #fs #smut alphabet #smut abc #smut a-z

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cryingcow · 3 years ago

Text

Yellow Dragon Wandering Chronicles [RGGO] --- Ch. 6

[6-1] | [6-2] | [6-3] | [6-4] | [6-5] | [6-6] | [6-7] | [6-8] | [6-9]

Previously: The Jingweon Mafia orders Han Joon-gi to kill Ryuji to avoid conflict with the Tojo Clan 7 years too early. Now with 3 groups aiming for Ryuji’s death, they decide to work together. In between Ryuji and Joon-gi angsting, Takayama prodding the story into an actual BL drama, and Kuze just wanting to go home already, Ichiban takes action and turns Ryuji into swiss cheese and dumps him in the river, much to everyone’s shock.

Sorry for the delay! Urgent stuff IRL came up D: but we’re finally here! Final chapter alt title:”Greatness and freedom are sadly mutually exclusive”. No particular spoilers as far as I can tell, but throwbacks to what happened in previous chapters :D

[Finale: End of the Journey]

CHAPTER 6-1

Ryuji: “Uugh . . . gohaack . . . ! Gohagh . . . . . . guh . . . . . .”

{There’s loud splashing as a body is dragged out of the water.}

Ryuji: “Ugh . . . . . .”

?: “. . . . . . Geez, you’re a big guy.”

----

Ryuji: “. . . . . . ugh . . .”

Ryuji: “. . . . . . . . . why am I alive . . .”

Suspicious Man: “Ooh, you really woke up.”

Ryuji: “Ah . . . ?”

Suspicious Man: “Don’t move. Your wounds haven’t closed yet. You need complete bed rest for another month, if you don’t want to die.”

Ryuji: “. . . you a doctor?”

Underground Doctor: “Underground. Now let me have a little look.”

{Ryuji grabs the doctor.}

Underground Doctor: “Uguh . . . ?! It-It hurts . . .”

Ryuji: “Who told you to help me?!?! Ya dumbass!!!!”

Underground Doctor: “Guh . . . ! Le-Let go . . . !”

{The door creaks open.}

?: “Oi, oi! What are you doing?!”

Kasuga: “What the hell are you doing to your lifesaver, you idiot! Let go of him quickly!”

Ryuji: “. . . . . . You?”

Underground Doctor: “Uguh!”

{Ryuji drops the doctor to the floor.}

Kasuga: “O-Oi, don’t stand up! Why are you getting up . . .”

Ryuji: “You . . . did something so unnecessary . . . ?”

Kasuga: “If that’s how you see it, why not treat me to yakiniku then?”

Ryuji: “Looking down on me, you . . .”

Kasuga: “Is that wrong? What a shame.”

Ryuji: “Stop running your mouth . . . or I’ll do it for ya!!!!”

Kasuga: “Sorry Sensei, we’ll be making a bit of noise.”

Underground Doctor: “Geez . . . adding insult to injury.”

{Ichiban wipes the floor with Ryuji.}

Ryuji: “Guh . . . ! Shit . . . !”

Kasuga: “You’re still moving . . . ? The Omi is anything but a mere injured fellow. But—oraaa!!”

{Ichiban hits Ryuji one more time. Ryuji collapses.}

Kasuga: “As expected, I can’t lose to a dying opponent. Sleep for a while and cool your head. Stupid guy.”

Ryuji: “Ugh . . . shit . . . . . .”

----

Ryuji: “Ugh, guh . . .”

Kasuga: “Hmm . . . ?”

Kasuga: “Ooh . . . you’re up?”

Ryuji: “! Whose side are ya on . . . ?!”

Kasuga: “What, is it this again?”

Ryuji: “. . . . . . tch.”

Kasuga: “Sensei is out right now. Please apologize to him later.”

Ryuji: “. . . . . . Why did ya help.”

Kasuga: “. . . . . . Ah . . . that’s right. ‘Once the mind is made up on killing the enemy, I will track you down and kill you even to the utmost ends of the earth’ . . . that’s my motto.”

Ryuji: “. . . ah?”

Kasuga: “The ‘mind is made up’ is the miso. Who decides whether or not I should kill you? Is it Oyassan? Or those from the head family?”

Ryuji: “Oi . . . what are ya saying?”

Kasuga: “Well, listen. I’m not good at explaining. I always thought I play as the bullet, and someone else is the trigger. But that’s not the case. Before I left Tokyo, Oyassan said this to me. ‘See, listen, and think about whether to kill . . . you decide, Ichi’.”

----

Kasuga: “Decide for myself . . . ?”

Arakawa: “That’s right.”

Kasuga: “But Oyassan, if I think I don’t want to kill the target . . . ?”

Arakawa: “Then pretend you killed them properly and let them escape overseas.”

Kasuga: “. . . . . .”

Arakawa: “Ichi . . . this is the first time you’ve done a ‘killing’ job. So I wanted to tell you. We are being used and will be thrown away. That’s how it is. But—we are the ones holding the gun. Don’t become the bullet that only flies.”

Kasuga: “. . . !”

Arakawa: “See, listen, and think about whether to kill . . . you decide, Ichi. That is our creed.”

Kasuga: “. . .”

Arakawa: “In the end, if you decide to kill the target—”

Kasuga: “—kill him even to the utmost ends of the earth.”

Arakawa: “Heh. You got that?”

-END-

NOTES:

Miso = used to refer to “the main point” or “the important part”. Also fermented soybean condiment.

Next >>>>>>>>>

Previous <<<<<

[6-1] | [6-2] | [6-3] | [6-4] | [6-5] | [6-6] | [6-7] | [6-8] | [6-9]

Masterlist

#for once the alt chapter title isnt jokey #tis the curse of having a dragon tattoo and being destined for greatness :(#rgg online #rggo lore #rggo #rgg #Ryu ga Gotoku #yakuza #goda ryuji #ryuji goda #kasuga ichiban #ichiban kasuga #arakawa masumi #masumi arakawa

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starryseung · 4 years ago

Text

han jisung + shower sex

◜24 kinktober◞

! : 1.3k , sub!jisung , dom!reader , brat taming(?) , shower sex , unprotected sex , (also!! reader uses a soap on jisung, which is supposed to be safe! don't try this without actual research (even though i highly doubt anyone will lol) since there's a diff. kind of soap for this kinda stuff!! always practice safe sex please :D)

“jisung~ don’t come too close you’re literally drenched in sweat,” you whine, pushing your boyfriend away from you. he’d just come home from practice, and there was no way you were going to let his sweaty body near you; no matter how hot he looked.

“have you washed up after school?”

“…no?”

“then you can’t stop me,” jisung lunges himself on you, giggling as you squirm under him, yelling at him to get off — but too busy laughing as he presses himself against you, grinning himself when he looks down at you. you’re pushing at his chest weakly, his cologne filling your nostrils as you fake gag, and jisung lightly hits your shoulder.

“come on~ y/n, you smell bad too now, so let’s clean up together,” he looks at you with a shit-eating smirk and you laugh at his expression, throwing your head back onto the cushion and your shutting your eyes close. he pecks your neck before pulling you up, a small pout on his lips as he puts no effort dragging you to the bathroom.

you both quickly undress as the warm water runs in the tub, almost filling it up by the time you both are done. you move ahead of jisung, in a hurry to just hop into the warm water to avoid the cold bathroom air. jisung follows suit, and you both move in the small tub to find a good position before you plop yourself between jisung’s legs, your back resting against his chest, head on his shoulder as he sighs.

the position is rather comfortable, nothing sexual, nothing suggestive either. you’ve been in this position way too many times to count, so this should be just fine. this should be just fine, right? because jisung cannot get himself to think straight, the way the warm water soothes down his back and legs, sloshing between his legs since he can’t sit straight in one position for more than thirty seconds before his mind starts to focus on the blood rushing south.

you click your tongue when he moves again for the hundredth time, turning your head to face him just centimetres away from you. “can you stop moving, baby boy?”

that was it. the fucking pet name you called him once, and he was mush in your hands. he bites his lip and nods, trying not not let the whine bubbling up him neck pass out his lips. instead, it comes out as a small, high-pitched hum, and he nods furiously again, clenching his jaw before swallowing his own saliva. you close your eyes again, resting your head again against his chest as you turn to pick up the soap from behind him. he lets out a little sigh, his head dropping down as he comes to face reality, literally, in the form of his little too hard for a peaceful shower cock erected right in his face.

moving your hand back, you look down to notice the very obvious problem, his cock erect against his stomach, his cheeks flushed red.

“what’s this?” jisung snaps his head to look at you when you question him, eyes wide as he makes a sorry attempt to cover his cock, and you giggle softly, moving his shaky hand away from him before pressing your palm to his chest, turning around so you’re facing him properly.

“you got hard, baby boy?” jisung nods a ‘yes’ hesitantly, his brain hyper focused on your touch as you slowly trail your hand down his skin, placing it on his hip bone — ignoring his throbbing cock — and moving down to his thighs, your touch gentle on his thighs under the surface of the water.

he whines softly, taking your hand before guiding it to himself, feather light touches on his cock as you drag your fingers around it, not really grabbing ahold of it, like he wanted it. and so he whines again, clenching his jaw as his hips slowly buck into your touch, and you pull away completely.

“either you sit there and take what i give you, or i’m gonna leave you blue-balled without you being able to touch yourself. which one?” you groan, opening the soap bottle before spilling some in your palm, putting it back in place as you wait for him to respond.

“s-sorry, i’ll listen.” he squeaks, and you smile warmly, ruffling his hair. you use your clean hand to splosh some water on him before slowly applying the soap on his hard length, a loud whine reverberating throughout the bathroom walls. jisung throws his head back as your fingers slowly spread the soap all over his cock, lathering him before your fingers wrap around him tighter, moving tantalizingly slowly on his hard length, up and down as you take your sweet time.

jisung felt like crying at the pace you were going at, but he knew if he were to object, you wouldn’t let him touch himself, let alone fuck him at all. so the least he could do is wait for the torture to end, his head thrown back as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat, chest heaving as he moans.

you run your hand slightly faster, brushing the pad of your thumb on his slit before caressing his tip, your own wetness leaking out when he lets out those sinful noises throughout the small room, the occasional splash of water whenever you move your hand.

soon, your wrists snap against his cock, your fingers moving quickly around him as he arches his back, whining louder before his orgasm washes over him, thick white spurts leaving his cock and covering your fist as you slow down your movements, washing your hands under the water before pulling out the plug, watching the water drain down before the tap pours in clean water back in the tub. you pull out the shower head carefully, turning it on and checking the force on yourself, before aiming it at jisung’s thighs, slowly rising up. he winces when the water hits right against his still-hard cock, your hand moving down to clean the soap lathered boy.

when you deem him clean enough, you shut the shower, putting it back in place before moving back between his legs to face him. there was still pre-cum leaking out of his slit, and you genuinely felt pity for the poor boy. so leaning up to him, you place a soft kiss against his jaw and then on his lips, moving so your heat is right above his tip. slowly lowering yourself, you rub your folds against him, both of you moaning as you sink lower, fingers digging into his shoulders, his hands wrapped around your wrists to support you upright. moving further lower, it was as if you’d ascended to heaven, the warm water providing the perfect lubrication and friction between your bodies.

a shaky breath leaves you, your thighs moving to rise on him before dropping back down on him, opting to roll your hips against him as his hands snaked to hold your thighs, subtly guiding your movements as you do so. jisung’s eyes are trained at how your hole swallows him entirely, eyes screwing shut when you clench around him, riding him once again at a steady pace.

his breathing intensifies, eyes looking back up to find yours as you lean down to kiss him roughly, your teeth biting down on his bottom lip as he whines, trying his hardest to not buck his hips up into you.

“good boy,” you breathe out in his mouth, moving your hips faster on him as the water keeps moving beneath you two, his cock throbbing in you as you angle your hips, his tip brushing over your sensitive spots repeatedly when you go lower on him.

“gonna- gonna cum,” he warns you, his high so close he can taste it.

“gonna come, pretty boy? gonna make a mess again?” jisung whimpers, feeling you ride him as his second orgasm crashes down on him. he watches as his translucent juices leak down your hole and into the water, which you reach out weakly to drain out. but jisung reaches out to hold your hand, placing it back on his chest as he slowly bucks his hips into you, making you lean forward on him.

“wanna make you feel good,”

you cock your head to the side, smirking.

“make me feel good, then.”

taglist; @yourdaddychan @joengni @cherryeol04 @childish-dreams1204 @bruh-changbin @yooniversalstudios @ann03254419 @nightshade-minho @yangomangos @yunhoess @sonnensplitter @soya-zz @chanswhore @notbeforelong @vinnieluv @watermelonlovermark @imnotokaybutihavekpop @linophoric @hatdogyyy @multi-fandom-kpop-stan @kpopswitchbot @itskpopular @lovesjenmoong @justinseagull (let me know if you want to be added!)

a/n ; finally sub jisung!!!! this was awesome to write omfg sjfhskjglfjgh preparing y'all for the next bratty sub!jisung attack >:)

#stray kids smut #stray kids kinktober #stayverse #skz smut #skz kinktober #stray kids jisung smut #skz jisung smut #stray kids #skz #han jisung smut #stray kids han jisung smut #skz han jisung smut #smut

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janetbrown711 · 4 years ago

Note

"how do you think this ends?"

Despite Lena’s hopes and dreams that when the morning came everything would feel as right in the world as it had when the little family had fallen asleep, it wasn’t true. When she awoke (for whatever reason, she was the first), she walked out of the room and was immediately surrounded by maids and servants pestering her with their endless questions. Of course, she knew why they were asking, she was supposed to be dead.

She did her best to explain the situation and told them that her mother had died in an avalanche at Acme Falls. This, however, made the situation worse, as then officials and advisors soon got word and started to try and plan things out with her, and Lena wanted none of it. It was early- hell, she was still in her nightgown and robe. She just wanted to take an early stroll around her home, but nope.

Then again, what did she expect? Come back from the dead and people are going to have questions.

Still. Being swarmed with questions and having plans and ideas thrown in her face that early was too much. She yearned to return to bed, but by the time she successfully convinced them to stop, it was likely too late.

So instead, she went to the kitchen and began to chop up some fruit, a skill she had gotten quite good at over the past year. She couldn’t do a lot, so she liked to help Helloise and Doctor Scratchnsniff prepare food, usually while they talked about things. Now all Lena could think of as she chopped was that of her offer.

She had written a letter last night asking for their assistance. In all honesty, she was ashamed. She thought returning home would do a lot to heal everything they went through over the past year, but Dot’s nightmare quickly told her otherwise. Because of her nativity, she had to write a letter offering and asking them to come to the palace to be the royal psychologist and counselor not just for Dot, but likely Wakko and perhaps even Yakko too. Goodness knows all of her kids must’ve been through hell under the care of her mother.

Lena paused and placed a hand on her cheek. She sighed.

Lena continued cutting fruit.

She hoped they were hungry- she was making a lot- goodness.

Well- she knew Wakko would be anyway. Her poor boy... he was so light to carry. Angelina must’ve locked him in the tower before the Wishing Star, and probably didn’t feed him.

Her mother deserved far, far worse than death.

But it was what needed to be done. She didn’t regret it. Not one bit.

Hopefully, they’d use all this food for the picnic they’d be having-

It was still winter. Snow was outside. They couldn’t have a picnic.

No. They’d just have one inside. It’s what Wakko wanted- who was she to take that away from him?

She continued to cut, despite realizing she lost count of how many kiwis, strawberries, and star fruit she had sliced by now.

“Mom?” Wakko came out of nowhere, startling Lena and she cut her finger.

“Gah- Jesus Wakko, you can’t sneak up on me like that,” She quickly began to suck on it and look for a towel.

Wakko froze, dead in his tracks.

“I-i’m sorry, I-i didn’t mean to- I-i-” He stumbled over his apology.

“It’s alright, Wakko, I’m not-” But by the time Lena said that, he had run out of the kitchen.

“Dammit, Lena, now look at what you’ve done,” She muttered to herself, wrapping a rag around her finger and running off to go find Wakko.

Day one and she was already screwing up.

“Wakko? Where are you?” She called, looking under hall decor, behind curtains, and in almost every room she walked by.

“Wakko, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that,” She said, hearing sniffles come out of one bedroom. Lena knocked on the door softly.

“Wakko?” She said.

“I-i said I’m sorry, go away!” He shouted back.

“Wakko, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize, it was I who snapped at you,” She placed her hand that didn’t have a towel around it against the door.

“Go away! I only get people hurt,” He cried more.

“Wakko honey, no,” Lena wanted to go in, but the door was locked.

“Wakko, whatever your grandmother told you, she was wrong. You’re such a wonderful kid- energetic, compassionate, brave, and you give the best hugs,” She countered his statement. The prince paused.

“B-but it’s my fault D-dot died... they were aiming for me,” He countered, his words becoming mumbled.

“Wakko, it’s nobody’s fault but your grandmother and she’s already paid the price,” She said.

“She can’t hurt you anymore... so please... come out? I promise I’m okay.”

Wakko was quiet. Lena bit her lip.

“If you come out you can have a snack in the kitchen,” She said. Wakko must’ve responded positively to that because before she knew it there were shuffling noises, and he opened the door, though unable to make eye contact with his mother.

“I’m hungry,” he said.

“I know honey, let’s get you some food and water- I bet you’re dehydrated too, especially after all that crying,” Lena said, offering her hand. Wakko took it.

“Yeah,” was all he said. Lena gave his hand a comforting squeeze as they made their way back. Once there, she lifted him on the counter and started slicing more fruit, everything from apples to bananas, and handing them to him once finished. He ate slowly, but it seemed to be doing him a lot of good, as his mood increased dramatically once he got some food in his system.

“You feeling better?” She asked him. Wakko nodded. “Good,” Lena smiled and ruffled his fur a little. Lena always found it funny how he often liked to sleep with his red hat on, but who was she to judge.

“Now honey, I want to make things very clear with you: everything your grandmother ever told you or made you feel is false okay? I don’t want you saying it, I don’t want you thinking it. You are so much more than she ever thought, understood?” She placed her hand on his cheek, stroking his face with her thumb. Wakko leaned into it, nodding.

“Okay,” he agreed. Lena smiled softly.

“It’s not gonna be easy to undo what she’s done... but we’re going to figure it out together, understood?” She said. Wakko nodded again, eating an apple slice.

“I haven’t told your siblings yet, but in roughly a week's time, the good doctor from Acme Falls is going to start working at the palace to help you three heal from the abuse my mother put you through. He’s an emotions doctor and he’ll help you feel better, does that sound like something you want?” She said, going back to cutting fruit.

“Okay,” Wakko nodded, his tail twitching curiously. “What about you?” he asked.

Lena paused. “What about me?”

“Will he be helping you?” Wakko asked innocently. Lena looked down at her hands, then at the 20 or so fruits she sliced this morning.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I’m going to have a lot more responsibilities than what I’m used to in the upcoming days- I’ll likely be too busy.”

“But you should be okay too,” Wakko frowned, reminding Lena of how observant he could be.

“I’ll be okay Wakko- I promise,” She looked at him. He scanned her face a minute before either believing it or just dropping it and going back to his apple slices.

After a moment of more slicing and handing to Wakko, Lena spoke again.

“We’re going to be having a picnic today, just like you wanted,” She said. Wakko’s face lit up.

“Really?! Isn’t it snowy?” Wakko tilted his head.

“We’ll be having it inside, but I think that hardly makes a difference. What do you think?” Lena asked him.

“Okay,” he gave a toothy grin.

“Good,” Lena nodded. “How about you go and get dressed and get your siblings ready so we can do that soon, hm?”

“Okay,” He said, jumping off the countertop, and scurrying out of the kitchen.

Good. At least he was somewhat back to his old self. That meant there was hope after all. He was still a kid- he deserved to be happy and young while he could.

With a sigh, Lena began to get bags out and put the sliced fruit into separate bags as kitchen workers started to come in and began preparing their breakfast. Once Lena finished, she quickly apologized and got out of their way, explaining what was going to happen later with the picnic and all. They understood, and she left.

Now she was on her own again. And still in her nightgown- Lena really needed to get changed. Quickly she went back to her room and went to her closet to get dressed but her fingers hovered over her dresses. It had been so long since she wore something so fancy... Would it even feel right anymore?

Of course it would, she was born a princess, she was just being ridiculous... right?

Lena sighed and changed into her usual purple dress.

Today was going to be interesting.

.o0o.

And interesting it was. Home for less than 24 hours and already advisors and courtiers were already throwing piles upon piles of papers onto the poor queen-to-be. After signing about fifty billion documents, she finally got them to leave her alone, stating she made plans with her family she fully intended to keep. Thankfully, since she was in charge, nobody argued otherwise, though she knew they were likely doubtful. She did her best not to dwell.

By the time she did finally join her family in the room they were having their picnic, Wakko and Dot were already finished with their food and running around chasing each other, nearly running into Lena as she stepped in, though they both paused to give her a hug before running off again.

“My, they’re energetic today,” Lena chuckled as she joined her husband and Yakko on the pillows.

“Last night was probably the best sleep they’ve gotten in a while, nightmare or not,” Yakko shrugged, eating a piece of bread.

“I don’t doubt that... I slept pretty well last night too,” William said mostly to himself, looking at Wakko and Dot fondly.

“It really has been a year, hasn’t it?” Lena looked at Yakko, sadness in her eyes. “We’ve missed so much...”

“Not a whole lot... I mean- there were birthdays and stuff, but not... well...” Yakko was reluctant to finish the sentence, but Lena understood perfectly.

“Not much good, no?” Lena sighed. “I’ll never forgive her for this... for any of this.”

William and Yakko nodded supportively.

“But... Dot’s birthday was nice. I even managed to sneak a cake, and we all had a big sleepover, which was fun,” Yakko said. Lena smiled a little.

“That sounds lovely,” She said, sipping some tea.

“It was,” Yakko smiled at the memory.

“Oh! And we continued teaching Wakko to read,” Yakko remembered to tell.

“Really? Oh, that makes me so happy Yakko,” Lena side hugged him.

“We were so worried that Angelina wouldn’t let him and he’d forget,” William admitted.

“We had to do it behind her back, but I definitely think we made progress,” Yakko smiled, proud of himself, and rightfully so.

“I’m absolutely thrilled to hear it. You did a very good job taking care of your siblings in our absence Yakko, I’m very proud of you,” She kissed the top of his head.

“Thanks, mom,” Yakko teared up a little, and he quickly wiped it away. Lena didn’t comment, smiling softly.

“I’ll never forgive her for this.” The thought repeated in her mind. Anger returned.

“So, what took you so long?” Yakko asked.

“Paperwork. I’ve a coronation to set up by the end of the week after all,” She tried to laugh at the dread facing her.

“What about Grandma’s funeral?” Yakko asked.

“She isn’t going to be getting a funeral,” Lena said.

William blinked. “Are you sure that’s best?”

“Doesn’t every royal get a funeral? I mean- she even held one for you two...” Yakko said quietly.

“It’s unprecedented yes, and will perhaps even look bad to the people. However, once we explain everything that happened, I’m sure the people will be more than happy and most importantly on our side,” Lena sipped her tea.

“I guess that makes sense,” Yakko shrugged a little. William sighed.

“Lena darling, I know it must be difficult, but she was the queen after all-”

“She committed treason on the highest offense, William.” Lena snapped.

“I know, but well- hasn’t she already paid the price?” He said in a hushed tone, even though Yakko was still right there.

“It’s not that I think she deserves one, Lena. I’m just concerned that the people won’t understand and that it’ll cause them to turn against you,” He clarified softly, touching her arm. Lena swiped it away.

“I know full well what I’ve done,” She stated sharply. “And I don’t regret it. Let the people be upset if they will, they’ll get over it.”

Wakko and Dot stopped running by then, now looking at their parents, confused.

“Lena, darling, perhaps we should take this outside,” William sighed. Lena looked at her children before sighing and nodding.

“We’ll be back shortly... carry on until we get back,” Lena said, placing a hand on Yakko’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze before standing up and going. William followed in suit.

William stood by the door a moment, making sure they weren’t listening in. Lena paced across the hall, holding her arms.

“Well?” Lena asked him.

“Well, what?” William questioned her harshness.

“Well, what’ve you to say? You asked us to leave the room and we’ve left, so what’ve you to say?” She asked, digging her fingers into her arms.

“Lena darling... I just thought perhaps it wasn’t best to discuss such matters in front of the children,” William said softly. That didn’t make Lena feel any better.

“William, I’m tired of pretending I care about her,” Lena looked out a window. “I don’t want to waste a year of my life wearing all black and veiling myself pretending to weep over what I’ve lost. I can’t even fathom pretending to care a day,” She admitted.

“Of course,” He nodded slowly. The queen-to-be glanced at him.

“You aren’t going to argue otherwise?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Lena darling, I love you with all that I am. I trust your judgment. I’m simply trying to look out for you, that’s all,” William went to her.

“I love you too William,” She said. “I just... I know what I’ve done. I don’t regret it.”

“My dear... you keep saying that,” He took her hand and kissed it.

“It remains true,” Lena took a step away.

“Lena, who are you trying to convince?” He asked honestly.

“I... nobody,” She said quickly.

“Lena-”

“Nobody, William,” She closed her eyes and turned away from him.

She didn’t regret it. Her mother had to die, and by her hand.

There was no other way.

“There was no other way,” She said aloud.

“My love, you’re trembling,” William worried.

“She didn’t love me. She never did- even as a child. She shouted, she pulled the flowers out of my hair, she grabbed me, she blamed me for Father’s death, she... she hurt Wakko, she locked him up like some animal and then she... she killed Dot. She had to die, William,” She still didn’t look at him.

“I know darling...” He approached her slowly.

“A-and even if she had loved me at one point... if she brushed my hair, or sat with me in portraits, or picked out a dress she saw me admiring, it doesn’t matter. She killed our baby girl... she had to die,” Lena looked him in the eyes, though the sympathy was almost too much for her.

“My love, I know... What you did was incredibly difficult,” William said, wiping a stray tear from her face.

“Why though? Why was it difficult? After all that she did to our children, it should’ve been easy,” Lena argued.

“Lena, I do not know,” He sighed, stroking her face with his hand softly. “I’m not a psychologist or anything of the like... but I assume it’s because- well... she was your mother.”

“Hardly...” Lena muttered to herself.

“Despite everything, she still was. You can’t deny that,” He said. “And despite everything, you’ve always been slow to retaliation, so of course it’s taking a while to process what you’ve done.”

“I thought you said you weren’t a psychologist,” Lena joked a little. William chuckled a little.

“I’m not dear... though perhaps you really should take up Scratchnsniff’s offer,” William said.

“I wrote for him last night. He’ll do the children lots of good,” She said.

“That’s not what I meant,” William gave her a look.

Lena paused, sincerely thinking about it.

“I’ll be woefully busy... I’ll hardly have the time,” Lena said.

“We’ll make the time,” He countered.

“William- I just... I don’t know...” She turned away.

“Lena... please? I worry about you,” William held one of her hands in his and gave it a squeeze. Lena said nothing.

“My dear, you deserve to be at peace. Ever since I met you you were burdened by your mother’s actions, and now that she’s gone, you can finally find peace,” He said with a small smile. She could hardly look at him now.

She was an adult. Almost queen. She should be able to handle this on her own.

“If not for yourself, then can you at least do it for them? For...me?” He pleaded quietly.

Lena looked at the door a long moment, practically seeing her children leaning up against it (which she knew they likely were).

“William I don’t know if I can find peace...” She whispered.

“Can’t we at least give it a try, my love?” He whispered back. She looked at him. His eyes... those warm, dark, familiar eyes had brought her so much love and comfort over the years. So much love and worry...

Lena knew she’d do anything for him.

“I can try,” She nodded slowly.

“Really?” He smiled a little.

“I’d walk through hell and back for you, my love,” Lena placed a soft hand on his cheek. “I think I’ll be able to believe in myself a little for you too.”

“Thank you,” He kissed her wrist before pulling her in for an actual kiss, which she gladly returned.

However, the kiss didn’t last too long before a chorus of voices behind the door grew louder and before they knew it, the door opened, Yakko, Wakko, and Dot spilling out with it.

“Darn it Dot- you got us caught,” Yakko shook his head.

“Haha... hi,” Dot sheeped. Lena rolled her eyes.

“Mind telling me why you were listening in to what was supposed to be a private, adult conversation?” She teased, helping them up and off each other.

“Uh... curiosity?” Wakko shrugged. Lena laughed.

“Can’t deny that I suppose,” She ruffled his fur. Wakko smiled up at her with his tongue sticking out. She missed that smile.

“Well... the day isn’t over yet... what do you three want to do?” She asked.

“Can we hear a story?” Dot perked up and asked.

“Yeah! A story!” Wakko agreed. Yakko snorted, giving his silent agreement.

“It’s nowhere near bedtime,” William said. “What are we going to do then?”

“We can handle two stories,” Dot rolled her eyes. William chuckled.

“That you can... that you can,” He said, stroking his mustache.

“How about this: I’ll tell you a bedtime story if you’ll help me out with this one, hm?” He offered, winking at Lena to boast his cleverness. Lena rolled her eyes.

“Okay!” The younger warner siblings said in agreement.

“But first we have to clean all this up- can’t be leaving everything out like this,” Lena remarked, going back into their picnic room. Quickly, the children ran in and began picking up any toys they had brought in, folding blankets, and putting back pillows where they belonged, while Lena and William dealt with the food.

“Quite the plethora of fruit you prepared for us this morning,” Willaim commented as he cleaned.

“I do it when I’m stressed,” She shrugged. “You know this- you were there.”

“I know,” he teased. “They were very good.”

“I didn’t grow them,” Lena rolled her eyes, teasing him right back.

“It’s our garden. I think we ought to have some claim,” He shrugged. Lena rolled her eyes again.

“You say that like we don’t get most of our fruits from the farms-”

“Actually, we get our apples and citrus from the farms. The starfruit and berries were from the garden,” Yakko snuck up from behind, folding a blanket.

“Who’s side are you on?” Lena gave him a look. Yakko laughed.

“Checkmate,” William grinned.

“I hate you,” She snorted, putting the bread into a bag as Yakko disappeared to put the blanket away.

“You love me,” William elbowed her lightly. Lena chuckled and continued to clean without comment. However, a thought slowly dawned on her and she paused.

“Lena..?” William noticed.

“Sorry, I’m just... thinking,” She shook her head and continued.

“Thinking of what?” He asked.

Lena thought about how best to say it.

“I suppose... well... I don’t know. I just-... Do you really believe any of this will ever truly be over?” Lena asked him.

William sighed. “I really hope so... it may not be today, or tomorrow, or even the day after, but in my heart I know one day we’ll finally be truly happy and free from her and her effects.”

“What do you think it’ll be like when that comes?” She asked him. William smiled.

“Well... I imagine there’ll be dancing under a sky full of stars. Music playing softly in the other room, while we just have all the time in the world to ourselves, knowing Yakko, Wakko and Dot are safely tucked to sleep- or even if they aren’t we know they’re safe. They know they’re loved, we know we’re loved, you know you’re loved,” He said, a far-off look on his face indicating he had given this thought before. Lena smiled.

“Dancing under the stars... I’ve missed that,” She agreed with him.

“Perhaps we’ll even go to the garden. We’ll sit on our bench by the fountain where I first proposed to you and we’ll just sit and reflect on the good times we shared, and the good times yet to come. It won’t be the end, after all. There’ll still be a lifetime ahead of us,” He said. Lena closed her eyes, envisioning it.

“That sounds lovely,” She smiled and opened her eyes.

“One day,” He said with a wink.

“We’re doneeee, can you tell us the story now?” Dot ran up to them, grabbing William’s leg. He laughed.

“Alright, c’mon,” He said, peeling Dot from his leg and picking her up instead. Wakko went to Lena and held her hand. She gave it a comforting squeeze, not that either was nervous. Yakko walked on her other side.

Together, the family all went back to the familiar playroom and settled in for storytime with Dad.

Effortlessly he weaved a tale about a beautiful princess, a handsome knight, and a fearsome dragon. Had it been done before? Of course, but it was the audience’s choice and they missed the cliché. He spoke of everlasting love, the princess and the knight saving each other numerous times, and eventually how they lived happily ever after and created a land of prosperity, peace, and love- unlike the age of the Dragon. It didn’t take a genius to figure out his inspiration for such a tale, but it was interesting and exciting nonetheless.

After that, Lena and William played with Yakko, Wakko, and Dot with their dolls, playing a game similar to the story, but with its own twists (like the Princess being fire breathing and could transform into a giant lion and the knight was secretly the God of Thunder) until it was eventually time for diner.

After that, William read them a bedtime story, this time of a lonely siren and a sailor who nearly drowned, which captivated Wakko and Dot easily, though Yakko was tired, and barely awake by the end. Then, they checked for monsters for Dot (a new concern of hers), after which Lena sang them their lullaby and they all went to sleep.

And so several days passed in such a way. Lena would spend her mornings over paperwork and giving signatures and statements and writing to other kingdoms in preparation for her coordination while William watched the kids, and in the afternoon she’d join them for lunch and for some quality family time until it was eventually time to sleep and the cycle would start over. As much as she hated the paperwork portion of her days, she couldn’t deny the quality time made up for it. Seeing her children slowly regain their spirit filled her with more happiness than she could ever describe, especially with the help of Doctor Scratchnsniff.

Ah, yes. Doctor Scratchnsniff. At first, the children were hesitant to meet with him, but after Lena and William offered to sit in with them for their appointments (for the first one, at least) they agreed.

Dot seemed to be liking him, though she found him and his accent strange at first. However, the doctor reported she was already off to a good start and even after meeting twice he said she was making good progress. That was good to hear at least. The sooner her PTSD was gone, the better.

It was evident Yakko liked him less so, but Lena and William weren’t surprised by that. His issues were with being fiercely independent and untrusting so naturally, it was going to take a while for him to open up, which they were okay with. They had all the time in the world now.

Wakko, however, never wanted to be alone with him. He always had Lena sit with him through his appointments, either clinging to her arm, or sitting in her lap the whole time as she stroked his ears or rubbed his back soothingly. He hardly spoke a word at first, which was expected, but the doctor didn’t seem to mind. Hopefully, progress would be made with time.

Lena eventually found time to make an appointment of her own. It felt... odd, to say the least. She was used to the loving and kind support from William, but opening up to Scratchy was a different feeling entirely. She didn’t have to fear what he thought, as he was trained to listen and help. She liked that.

What she liked less was reflecting on her childhood. So many feelings and emotions and twisted memories she didn’t know how to look back on. He said this was natural for victims of childhood neglect and abuse, and she couldn’t deny that.

However, she was processing now. Moving on, as he described it. Acknowledging what happened was the first step, moving on was the next. It was... interesting. Then again, these were only the beginning steps. She still had lots and lots of work to do, but she had all the time in the world.

The days passed in such a sequence, that the day of her coordination threw her off guard. Heck- she had hardly noticed that when she had awakened, maids and dressers were immediately there to get her in the gorgeous cerulean blue, and gold dress they had made for her. It wasn’t until they were trying to comb through her hair she realized the day was special. Sure- she wasn’t normally dressed by handmaidens, but in all fairness, she had just woken up.

Oh god- it was finally happening. Important guests from kingdoms all over were going to arrive to watch her rise to the throne and accept her fate and destiny as the next queen of Warnerstock.

Hell- it felt like Lena blinked and suddenly she was waiting for the doors to open so she could walk down and accept the crown and say the lines and well- get coronated as Queen. She was wearing the nicest gown she’d ever worn in her life, and her ears were unbound, as she was no longer wearing her princess crown anymore.

“You ready Mom?” Yakko asked, adjusting his fancy little outfit. Lena thought he as well as the rest of the kids looked adorable, though it was clear he was rather uncomfortable with the lapels and sash. Still- that didn’t stop Lena from wishing she could get a portrait of him done.

“Hopefully,” Lena laughed through her nervousness.

“You’ll be great, I know it,” Wakko grinned up at her. Lena smiled at him, before noticing his sash was on the wrong shoulder and she fixed it.

“Yeah! You’re super nice and pretty and you’ll be a great queen,” Dot encouraged.

“You’re too sweet, darling,” She thanked her before standing.

“You’ve nothing to worry about, my love,” William placed his hands on her shoulders. “We have your back, it’ll be okay.”

“I’m the luckiest queen-to-be in the world,” Lena chuckled.

“Yep!” Wakko agreed.

“Your highness? They’re ready for you,” said one of the officials. Lena took in a deep breath and nodded.

“Well... let’s go,” She gave them a nod. Her family gave her quick grins and thumbs up, before the door opened, and the ceremony officially began.

The ceremony went perfectly as planned. Not a word nor person was out of place. She recited the vow of protection and service perfectly, didn’t flinch when the cold metal of her new crown touched her head, and even managed not to flinch at the mention of her full name (though she could still feel the internal dread of it). She recited her speech to the people perfectly, gaining their understanding and support with her carefully crafted yet heartfelt words, and eventually, the ceremonies were over and the festivities began.

Quickly, the children ran into the outdoor courtyard with many of the other royal children from nearby kingdoms, and music began to play. However, this wasn’t the stuffy, snooty music her mother would’ve chosen for her coordination, no. This was Lena, and she chose something exciting. A new beginning. Songs that make you kick off your shoes (if you wore those) and dance in circles until you pass out from exhaustion you didn’t know you had because you were too busy being swept away by the fun of it all. Lena danced with her new subjects and partners in foreign policy all day, and even a bit of the night as the sun eventually went down, only stopping when the feast began, or the band needed a break, but then returning right away.

She hadn’t felt this alive in years, and Lena was determined to never let it go. This was what freedom was. This was what life without her mother’s control could be, every day. People laughing, cheering, celebrating, being together and safe and happy.

People were happy.

Lena was happy.

Yakko, Wakko, and Dot were happy too, even mingling with children from neighboring kingdoms, with Yakko even finding himself fascinated with a certain dog prince that she and William gave a quick thumbs up to, embarrassing him deeply. Eh, he’d get over it. They were back, and that meant embarrassing him to his crushes- even if he just met them that night.

Wakko and Dot were having fun dancing, and drawing chalk on the ground. Wakko proved himself to be quite the artist, as while he danced he dragged and drew with his tail, and before anyone knew it the whole floor was a Wakko art piece. Sure, it may have stained their feet, but it was truly something to behold. Dot, on the other hand, was chatting with other princesses and citizens, charming them with her classic wit and cuteness that made Lena proud.

And William? For the first time in what felt like forever, he seemed to be enjoying himself too, the worry that was constantly behind those deep, dark eyes she loved so dearly being practically gone. Instead, joy and excitement, as well as love was shining back, as he spun and lifted and danced alongside her to the exciting music of the band. The couple had never felt so alive and free.

Eventually, though, all good things come to an end, and guests slowly began to leave, saying their quick goodbyes to the new Queen, wishing her luck, and promising their loyalties and hopes for the future. It saddened to see things coming to an end, but eventually, the band began to play much slower, softer music, and William took her hand in his and they slowly began to sway under the starlight.

“I told you you had nothing to worry about,” William smirked.

“I know, you’re always right, blah blah blah,” Lena snickered.

William laughed. “I’m serious though, I’m extremely proud of you. You’ve come a very long way for it being less than a month since returning.”

“And here I thought it was already a year,” Lena joked, referring more to the neverending piles of paperwork she managed to go through in such a short time than her time with her loved ones.

“Lena, I mean it. I’m incredibly proud of you,” William made sure she knew it.

“Thank you, dear,” Lena kissed him. “I couldn’t have done this- any of this without you.”

“I know,” He said with a small smile. Lena snorted a little, before stepping closer and leaning against him as they swayed together.

“How’s this for a perfect ending, hm?” he asked.

Lena thought about that, looking around the more than half-empty courtyard.

Wakko was curled up into a ball on a pile of pillows nearby a firepit, looking perfectly warn out and warm. Dot was drawing with chalk next to him, looking half asleep as well. Yakko was telling a story to his new friend, though it was very clear that friend was going to have to leave soon, but whoever was in charge of the boy clearly didn’t have the heart to break the two up, which Lena couldn’t say she blamed them for. They were cute. Kids- but cute.

Then she looked back at William. The love of her life. The man who never once left her side and carried her through the worst moments of their lives, and somehow made it out alive. She kissed him again.

“It’s not completely perfect... but it’s a damn good start,” Lena smiled.

“A damn good start indeed,” William grinned.

And it was a damn good start. After all, Queen Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the Second was married to Sir William the Good, and had three beautiful children she loved more than anything in the world. Her mother was dead, and couldn’t hurt any of them anymore. There were no more secrets, no more lies, and no more abuse.

Together, the Warners were entering a new era; an era of peace, of love, of great healing, and great togetherness. After all- the old queen was dead, proving once and for all that nothing could or ever would keep them apart for long.

They were together now, and together the Warner Family was unstoppable.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 The End

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siegelst · 4 years ago

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Anonymous asked [

Curiosity - Passage of time [ Day 30 - escape] by Anonymous

Rated Explicit Mature 18+

clothes kink, major size kink, voice kink, karl has part lycan in him, scent-marking, tits, Karl's new roommate tries to escape.

warning: don’t know German but using google instead, sorry.

Day 30 - Escape

"Foreigners seem to have broke in your factory." said mother Miranda. I scoff at this siting back with legs spread out, puffed a cigar. A faint echo of panic went through me. But I had a lie ready to recited. Believe in the lie. It’s been a month since that happened and now she discovers it. "Why haven't you alerted me of these people?"

"Cause it’s very easy. They all dead! They f*cken died the day they broke into my factory." I barked, waving around my cigar in my left hand. "I would think super size bi^ch would have said something after i left their bodies outside her door,"

"Only 1 out of the 5 you gave me was good." said super size bi^ch.

"Oh? No thank you for me?" I sneered back, leaning forward.

"I thought there were 6?" muttered fish freak.

"You'll can't have all the fun! I wanted fun. So I used the last one before she met her end to Sturm." I gloat as i sit back, blew smoke before saying "She screamed wonderfully."

"Ugg you horrible disgusting man thing." She screeched. I rolled my eyes as i puffed my cigar. As if she wasn't taking in maidens in to do live experiments and have them bleed dry for her wine. At least when i do experiments they are dead subjects. Device on me, made a noise. Motherf*cker. The meeting didn't end until 20 minutes later.

female p.o.v.

After managing to pick the lock, I started for the elevator before studying the map of the factory. I went for the stairs that went down. I ran into some rooms, some had medical tables. having no idea where i was even if i had a map with me. I get lost easily. If i find more stairs i get out of here right?

The factory was noisy and the temperature was getting hot humid. An Hour later i was still going through random halls. 30 minutes later i’m falling into a pit full of metal scraps. I climbed through the wreckage before finding a ladder high up. I had to jump to the first bar before pulling up and walked along the metal beam. To find a landing with a machine with a level on it. I pushed it down. Nothing happened. Darn. Must not be enough energy.

I found another walk beam that connects to main flooring. 20 minutes later i was in end of hallway before I looked down to see a bars blocking a tunnel that could be moved. After pulling i finally get it to move before crawling through the cobwebs tunnel. I hear static as if from out of tune radio as i pulled myself out. Ending up in a narrowed hall.

"Oh Buttercup, you better not be escaping. I will find you." Oh no i thought he was gone for the day. As i crept toward other end of hall, go through another room, to see one his creation to be laying on table behind cage fence. I couldn't get through. "Best to turn yourself in and no one gets hurt"

Maybe i could break down the cage fence. Or go back into the tunnel. a snicker was heard. "You're lost again, buttercup?"

I went back through the tunnel before going down a hallway. Crap, didn't i go through here before? I’m back in the rooms where medical tables at again, second guessing myself. I open 1 door to see the walls littered with various sharp knives and saws before closing it. "You going in circles, darling. You're lost! admit it!"

"Shut up" I muttered as I started to try any door to get away. A booming laugh echo though the speakers. I took too many turns and find myself falling falling down until hitting cold water.

I gasped & cough after resurfacing. It was dark where I’m at. I find stable ground to pull myself out of the water and looked up to see how far I fallen. pretty dam* far apparently. Looks like I’m at rock bottom. I didn’t hear boss over the speakers. Maybe the speakers don’t reach down here? walked some steps away before remembering i did have my phone on me. turning on the flashlight feature - i moved it around to see where i was. Seems like these metals were abandon and i could see a old motorbike connected to a tank wheels, but didn’t seem to be finished yet. I moved around some more before accidentally bump into a metal contraption. Stepping back and walking around it i could make out that the metal contraption was a metal horse. Now that is neat and pretty. if only boss makes something like this instead of using dead bodies.

I turn around the humongous room before pausing to see shoes. for a second i thought it was my boss. but noticing that the shoes look old, ripped, and way bigger than his, and hearing a animal growl got my heart in my throat. Moving the light up up up to barely see a hairy man with the wildest mane of a lion that been fried from the snow. I gulped and started backing up. I barely make out the sharp fangs, canines, the ripped clothes and the blood splatter on him and the gigantic hammer he was holding only shown slightly when reflected from the light cause the flashlight can only go so far. The dude looks to be 13 ft tall. I met my first lycan.

The lycan picked me up in one hand, looked back to see the floor getting further further away, as i turn back to be inspected by the lycan. i raised my arms to cover my face. hearing the loud sniffing sounds filled my ears before we were interrupted by a voice.

“Now now Urias, don’t eat her.” said my boss, his voice dripping like hot caramel, as lights began to flicker on. I see the lycan clearer and more terrifying, see metal scraps floating around the room and see. . . my boss - using the metal scraps to walk down to us like a escalator. I glanced at the lycan as if to say ‘You seeing what i’m seeing?’. the lycan gave the an unimpressed look. Boss landed on the ground, walking towards us, talking lower, his eyebrows raised up slightly. “Give her to me Urias. Now.”

There seem to be a warning in the way he spoke that line. If i had looked around I would noticed something was aiming at the lycan. but was too busy looking at the teeth on the guy. they were smeared with blood. The lycan didn’t want to for some odd reason. I’m cold from the water being held up 12-13 feet in the air by a lycan and I’m tired, and my shock is almost over so i could scream anytime. I covered my face again as the lycan went near to sniff at me again before feeling something run up my face quickly, warm wet. . . . did the lycan just licked me?? Feeling i was being lowered before boss snatch me back, shoving me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. was it me or did he sighed in relief? nah my tired mind just playing tricks on me. “Thank you Urias. Go back to your den.”

He turned away to walk somewhere. I push on his back to glanced back at the large lycan, he was still standing there and the hammer was huge, dripping with blood against the floor. sh*t maybe boss was worried about the lycan eating me.

I was back at square one in the cell as boss threw me onto the old mattress. Leaning over me, his hand grip my face, him furious.

"You’re dam* lucky that Urias didn’t see you as wolf chow, Buttercup.” He hissed at me. His forearm was hot against my wet cloths. “Otherwise I be mopping up your remains of your bones if it wasn’t.”

A metal chain cuff clicked my ankle. He pulled me right up against him my body leaving the bed slightly. “How the F*ck did you get out?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, giving him the look of ‘I ain’t telling you.’. Next thing i know i was, thrown over his thighs - his thighs against my stomach and felt a hard smack on my backside. D-did he just spank me?? once the shock of him spanking me I start to yell and struggling but he wasn’t budging. He was yelling in German.

Heisenberg. p.o.v.

The bi*ch brought this on onto herself. i thought as I laid a harsh hand against her cloth backside. “Du undankbare Schlampe, du hättest getötet werden können von Urias. Oh, jetzt bist du wütend? naja ich bin es auch. Hör auf herumzuschlagen, Scheiße.”

Finally i get to see my new roommate mad. she was drench from her trip in the water channel, wetting my clothes in result of it. Her cloths sticking to her like second skin leaving nothing to my imagination. view of her nipples perked through her thin layer of tank top and my button up shirt dripping with excess water onto the cell floor. I pulled her back by her hair to drag her up to see if she’ll tell me. she shook her head. Darling i could do this all day. I felt myself stiffen. Her cries and angry shouts means nothing.

Knowing where she was roughly when she fell, still didn’t stop my heart skip in panic. Arriving to sight of her in the hands of a12 ft lycan in the air, water glistening on her skin, her collarbone, neck, face, her tits tightening due to the cold, practically begging to be touch, and seeing Urias taking an interest in her was enough for me to start sweating. Of course she runs into the tallest lycan there is.

Her shocked face was barely make out with Urias hand snaked around her middle easily. F*ck even I was getting nervous. Urias licking her was a heart-stopping - almost had me shoot a rod between the bunny and the giant wolf. as he lowered the lass back to me, gave me huge relief she was back to me unharmed. her wet body bumping against my back, shoulders and chest as i stomped back to the cell was torture. I was brought to present as her finally breaking, sobbing over my lap. I felt myself twitch.

“How the F*CK did you get out?” I growled, my hand cupping her under her chin to raise her up. I feel burn of her skin, my forearm brush against her tits briefly, making my cock jump in interests.

“Bobby pin.” she hiccuped, trying not to cry in front of me. I glanced down toward the door of the cell, and sure enough see a non-metal bobby pin on the ground.

I shoved her off my lap, her hitting to cold cell floor, another chain attached to her other leg, her cold body shaking. I nudge her so she lay on her back, and pressed my shoe lightly onto the side of her stomach. She looked up at me in daze confused as she glanced at my shoe worriedly, her body displayed for me. before I removed my foot.

“Better get comfortable Buttercup” I said, as I stood, walked out of the cell. “You going to be here for a while.”

Closed the cell, after obtaining the bobby pin and walked out of the room, ignoring her yapping, I have business to take care of.

translation:

You ungrateful bi*tch, you could have been killed by Urias. oh now you're angry? well so am I. Quit thrashing around, f*ck

#karl heisenberg #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #curio

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soniaxdixon · 4 years ago

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New Series, pt. 1 - Until Now

A NEW SERIES Y’ALL. Okay, I’m so excited for this one. It’s a friends to lovers <3 I need help thinking of a title so let me know!!

Warnings: Swearing

y/n and Daryl grew up together before y/n left for college, not long after, the world ended and Daryl had already left their town. y/n finds Daryl at the bottom of the ravine on his search for Sophia. After bringing him back to his people, they welcome y/n with open arms allowing the romance between y/n and Daryl to flourish.

Word Count: 2120

You paced the woods trying to pick up on the trail of the deer you had been tracking, suddenly drawn from your thoughts by the sound of a horse and someone in pain. Without thinking, you ran towards the sound, stopping quickly as your body was almost thrown over the edge of a ravine.

“Shit” You mumbled as you tried to focus on the body that laid still down the bottom. You could see blood spilling around him and knew you had to be fast if you were going to help. You found your way down without too many injuries, a few cuts and bruises and a sprained ankle but nothing compared to this guy.

You walked closer, cautious as to if he was still alive or about to turn. Finally you were able to focus on his face. You threw yourself to the floor next to him.

“Holy shit, no fucking way. Daryl?” He didn’t respond as his body laid still. Your head flew to his chest to listen for a heart beat. You could hear one as well as feel the rise and fall of his chest. “Daryl wake up. It’s me. I need you to wake up. It’s y/n” You placed your head on his chest as he began to stir beneath you. Your head shot up as you looked down at his slowly opening eyes, they were as blue as you remembered.

“God first I’m seein’ Merle and now it’s you. How hard did I hit my damn head. Fuck.” He rubbed the back of his head and you chuckled, throwing your arms around him. His entire body went rigid at the contact. You were real.

————

Daryl lifted the last of your stuff into the back of your car. “Ya promise to call me every damn day that ya gone.”

“Yes sir. I promise. I’ll miss you D but I’ll be back by Christmas.”

“Yeah I know.”

You stood up on your toes and placed a small kiss on his cheek, turning on your heels quickly so Daryl couldn’t see the shade of red your cheeks now were but the colour of his cheeks matched yours.

“Back by Christmas.” You muttered, loud enough so he could hear.

“Ya better be.”

You and Daryl had grown up together. You did everything together, knew everything about each other, well almost everything. You never told him that you loved him. He never admitted his love for you. The fear of ruining the friendship the two of you had overpowered any ideas of a confession of love. The day you left for college was one of the hardest days of Daryl’s life, watching you drive away and towards a future quite possibly without him in it broke him that day.

You hadn’t even made it home before the world went to shit, you never got to reunite with Daryl.

Until now.

Here you were, crouched down at the bottom of a ravine, the reunion you hadn’t exactly dreamt of but wanted for so long. Daryl’s body was bruised and broken with a bolt through his left side. “Daryl, come on. I need you to sit up so we can figure out whatever is happening here.”

Daryl forced himself to sit up, his breathing was ragged as he clenched his teeth. His hands held where the bolt had pierced his side. You gently placed your hands over his to move them, he flinched at the contact and then hissed in pain at his sudden movement.

“I need you to let me see, we need to pull it out so we can bind it properly.”

Daryl moved his hands away carefully as his eyes focused on you. You were certainly a welcomed distraction. How did you even find him? You were even more beautiful than he remembered, the way the light reflected off the water and bounced off your eyes, giving off a certain light themselves, the ones that could ignite the fire in his chest so instantly. He wondered if-

His thoughts were interrupted by you ripping the bolt through his side and proceeding to shove a piece of ripped cloth over the wound to limit the amount of blood loss.

“MOTHER FUCKING SHIT BASTARD!” He yelled before his brain could even process what was happening.

“There, that was easy right? Please tell me you have a camp around here, I hope you do because you need stitches and fast.” You slipped your belt off and wrapped it around his waist securing the cloth and again, limiting the blood flow even more.

“Yeah, I’m stayin on a farm.”

You and Daryl managed to make it up the sides of the ravine and made your way towards the farm. Daryl Was stumbling along, barely able to walk but pushing himself nonetheless. You stumbled as quickly as you could with your ankle now swelling to twice its usual size. The farm was now in sight as you walked slowly behind Daryl, hobbling along at your own pace. Four men ran towards you and Daryl as you froze. Daryl was still slightly ahead of you when a man pointed a gun at his head.

“Third time ya pointed that thing at me. Ya gonna pull the trigger?” Daryl yelled.

At the sudden realisation that Daryl was not a walker, the attention was on you, the gun now aimed at your head.

“She’s with me.”

BANG

You closed your eyes, did they just shoot you? No, there was no pain. Your eyes opened to see Daryl now on the floor. The man who held the gun began yelling “NO!”

shit, shit, shit. You dove on the floor, checking where he was shot, the bullet grazed his head. Two of the men lifted Daryl up and began hurriedly walking towards the farm. Adrenaline pumped through you as your focus was now on a woman who ran towards the six of you.

“Oh my God, is he dead?” She asked.

“You the one that shot him?” Your focus quickly on her.

“I thought he was a walker.”

You walked up to the girl, your hand balled in a fist as your swung hard into her left cheek, sending her to the floor. “Fucking dumbass.” You limped away, towards the farmhouse as she remained on the floor, clutching her face.

An old man ran out of the house. “Take him up to the spare room, I’ll get my kit.”

Daryl’s surgery was quick, a few stitches and some pain killers. Then the attention was on you again as you sat on the bed next to Daryl. Close but not close enough to be touching.

“Thank you for saving him, my name is Rick Grimes.” Rick extended his hand to shake yours.

“Y/n y/l/n and it’s no problem. When I saw it was Daryl, there was no way I was leaving him there.”

“You know Daryl?”

“We grew up together” Daryl interrupted.

You smiled at him. “I left for college just before everything went to shit, by the time I made it home, Daryl was gone.”

Daryl looked solely at you know. “If I knew ya’d be comin’ back to town, I would have waited for ya.”

“Daryl, I saw the state of our town, you were right to leave as soon as you could.” Your hand brushed his slightly before he pulled his hand away and up to his mouth, succumbing to his habit of chewing on the skin around his thumb.

Rick stood up from his chair, “I’m gonna go and get you guys some food, I’ll send Hershel back to look at your ankle, y/n”

“Thanks, Rick.”

Rick left the room leaving you and Daryl in there alone. You looked at the archer who was already looking up at you sending shivers down your spine. You reached gently towards his head, pushing his hair away from his bandage that wrapped around where the girl had shot him.

“Heard ya hit Andrea pretty hard.” Daryl chuckled.

“Yeah, I don’t know what came over me, I just, seeing you hurt and knowing she was the one that did it…”

“I know what ya mean, It’s like, remember when Johnny broke up with ya, back in high school?”

“Oh my God, yes, I was heart broken.”

“Ya remember how he came to school a couple of days later, with a broken nose and he said it was a-”

“A snowboarding accident. Yeah I remember.”

“Well it wasn’t, I went to his house that night, hit him square in the face, broke his nose and busted his lip in one hit.”

“Oh my God, Daryl.” You both laughed “He was such an asshole to me, I don’t know why I liked him so much.”

“Me neither, ya deserved so much better.” Your eyes locked with his as your hand moved from his hair down to his cheek. The tips of his ears burned red as you leaned down ever so slightly. His eyes flicked between your eyes and your lips.

Rick walked in with two plates of food, startling both you and Daryl, sending you off the bed and onto your bad ankle. You yelped in pain before sitting back down on the bed, both yours and Daryl’s cheeks flushing red.

“I uh, what was happening?” A slight smirk on Rick’s face

“Nothing!” You and Daryl responded in unison.

“Uhh, alright then, here’s your food, Hershel will be here in a sec to check your ankle.” Rick looked between the two of you, the smirk on his face grew.

You and Daryl ate your dinner in silence, pausing half way through your meal when Hershel, the old man, walked in. He examined your ankle and you winced.

“It’s not broken, just sprained, should heal itself soon but you should keep it elevated for the next couple of days. Unfortunately this is our only spare bed as Carl is in our other one.”

Daryl looked between you and Hershel “S’ okay, I’ll head back to my tent tonight.”

“Daryl, no. I can sleep on the chair, I’ll use the bed as a foot rest. It’ll be the best sleep I’ve had in a while, trust me.”

“I’ll let the two of you figure it out. Just keep it elevated.” Hershel left the room, leaving you and Daryl alone again.

“Take the bed, I’ll take the chair.” Daryl said as he tried to push himself out of the bed but struggled.

“You can hardly move, you take the bed, I’ll take the chair.”

“Nah, not happenin”

“I mean, we could both take the bed. If you’re okay with that.”

Daryl froze at your words. “It’s either that or I take the chair, Daryl.”

“Nah, I’ll move over, hold up.” Daryl shifted his body as close to the edge of the bed as he could. You moved yourself from your sitting position to under the covers, lying next to Daryl, far enough apart that you weren’t touching. Daryl reached over and flicked the lamp off as you got comfortable and closed your eyes. Your attempt to stifle a yawn didn’t work as you let the comfort of the bed surround you.

“Thanks for saving me.” Daryl mumbled.

“You would have done the same for me.”

It was true, he would go to the ends of the earth for you, do anything you asked him to. After all this time, his feelings for you never changed. Neither yours for him. You both fell asleep with ease, by the middle of the night you were tangled in each others arms.

You woke up as the first light settled in the room, you were definitely not in the position you had fallen asleep in, no, now your body was pressed up against his body, his arm was draped around you. Your stomach flipped with emotions. If it were up to you, you would stay in this position for eternity but what if he didn’t feel the same way. Surely he didn’t, the way he flinched every time you touched. But what about the moment the two of you shared last night. You were pulled from your thoughts as you felt him stir behind you slightly. You carefully removed his arm and pushed yourself back to the edge of the bed before he woke up.

He was already awake. He woke before you but remained still with his arm wrapped around you like he had always dreamt of. But when he felt you push away from him, he closed his eyes quickly and pretended to be asleep. You obviously didn’t want him touching you. Maybe you didn’t feel the same way about him. But what about the moment you shared last night?

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x you #you x daryl dixon #you x daryl #daryl x you #daryl dixon x reader series #daryl x reader #reader x daryl #twd #twd fic #twd series #twd fic series #twd fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fic #the walking dead imagine

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voidstilesplease · 4 years ago

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Swords and Arrows

or That Summer When The Ares and Athena Cabins Finally Allied For Capture The Flag part 1 of 3

⚔️🏹⚔️🏹⚔️🏹

(A Steo Demigod AU) || For @anonymous's prompt: "Scott as a Roman demigod instead of Greek" || word count: 2,647 || The Entire Demigod Series -> [AO3][Tumblr] (it's finally a working link tfg)

Stiles pulls back, "I was going to ask if you missed me," he says, face flushed and beaming. "But it appears I don't need to."

"You never need to."

🏹⚔️🏹⚔️🏹⚔️

"Why the long face, little brother?" Tara asks cheerfully, wedging herself on the bench between Theo and one of their half-siblings, and placing down her tray brimming with colorful food as opposed to Theo's bleak and half-empty one. She grins at Theo, but he's not in the mood to return the goodwill.

Theo pokes half-heartedly at the contents of his tray: a lonely sealed bag with a couple squares of ambrosia inside - the food of the gods - some cheese and two slices of wheat bread. "Don't call me little brother," he mutters with little heat, leaning to the table to whisper a request to his goblet, which immediately fills up with sparkling water.

Tara looks over Theo's head at Fred, their Head Counselor, sitting on Theo's other side. "He's not back yet?"

Fred shakes his head, wiping the bbq sauce at the side of his mouth. "Nope," he replies, popping the 'p' and catching on to the question without much elaboration. By now, there's only one 'he' that reduces Theo to a brooding and sulky man-child. "He hasn't answered Theo's last IM, too."

"Try the last five Iris Messages," Theo grumbles in annoyance. He turns to Tara, face contorted in a sour expression. "I mean, how difficult is it to take my call? He always has drachmas in his pocket exactly for this reason."

"He's probably busy disintegrating monsters," Fred says reasonably. Which, of course, makes sense. Monsters make the most infuriating and persistent roadblock of all. They make any journey twice as long for demigods - if they don't manage to kill you, that is. "Or, you know," Fred adds, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "maybe he's being an accomodating companion to the Son of Jupiter."

Theo grinds his teeth hard and fixes his head counselor with a death glare. Fred only shrugs at Theo's reaction, obviously aiming for the exact response, and chuckling through a bite of ambrosia. Theo has half a mind to punch him in the jugular. He doesn't need a reminder of who Stiles is with, thanks. Spitefully, he harshly impales a piece of grape from Fred's tray with the tines of his fork and shoves it to his mouth in the most menacing manner he can project.

It only makes Fred guffaw, spraying bits of food onto the table. The campers across from him slide their trays away protectively, shrieking an indignant chorus of "Fred!" as they make sure no stray bits made it into their platters. Fred raps at his chest as he reaches for his goblet, still laughing his dumb ass off while trying to wave his hand in apology.

Their neighbors also share their opinion on the appalling table manners of the Ares brood - spitting out food may slightly be a common scene from their lot, unfortunately.

Brett from the Apollo cabin throws corn kernels at Fred, a strange display of solidarity if you can believe it, while Ara, the half-Korean junior counselor of Athena cabin, gives the Ares and Apollo tables a look of disapproval. She's a pretty terrifying 15 years old, which is why Stiles is extremely fond of her. With Stiles gone to New Rome the first week back to camp, Ara is doing a kickass job taking over the head counselor duty. (But, to Hades with it, Theo would much prefer Stiles to be scowling at their table.)

"Okay, first of all," Tara says over the little chaos. "Fred, you're disgusting. Second," she holds Theo's chin to compel him to look at her, then smirks, "Stealing a piece of fruit is not a cabin 5-worthy intimidation tactic."

Theo opens his mouth for his scathing retort, but at the same time, one of Stiles's younger siblings points in the direction of the cabins. "Hey, it's Stiles!"

Many heads look up, but Theo springs to his feet instantly, scanning the area for Stiles. He catches sight of him almost immediately, bounding to the Mess Hall in his orange shirt, face bright under the camp's enchanted borders, as radiant as the last time Theo saw him four long months ago. Without much thought, Theo finds himself carried by his feet towards Stiles.

Stiles sees him coming too, and his smile broaden. Theo sprints, forgetting himself and where they are. They meet halfway, by the entrance of the Mess Hall, with Theo knocking into Stiles's open arms strong enough that it's a surprise they're still upright on the ground.

Theo squeezes him to make sure his mind did not conjure a Spectre to appease his longing. Stiles feels solid under his hands, if a little sweaty, and he smells as if he was run over by monsters. But underneath the grime, he catches the scent of Stiles's favorite body wash. He feels himself sagging in satisfaction.

Stiles pulls back, "I was going to ask if you missed me," he says, face flushed and beaming. "But it appears I don't need to."

"You never need to."

Theo doesn't know how long they stood just smiling at each other, but they break apart at Chiron's pointed clearing of the throat. It's not even in Theo's head to be embarrassed by his actions despite the cackling and many leering faces of the other demigods. Mr. D merely raises an unimpressed eyebrow, though the twinkle in his eyes can only be from amusement.

Chiron is sitting on his wheelchair today, hiding his horse's ass behind the illusion of human legs - why he still does it is a wonder - and rolls forward to them.

"Stiles Stilinski," he greets merrily, the lines of his eyes crinkling when he smiles. "Welcome back." Chiron gazes a little behind them, then, nodding kindly towards another boy Theo only notices, is standing patiently at a distance.

The boy, Scott McCall, son of Jupiter and a praetor of the Roman demigods' army, the Twelfth Legion Fulminata, steps forward to bow his head in respect of the centaur. "Chiron," he also acknowledges Mr. D who didn't bother to get up from the head table. "Lord Bacchus."

"Hm," Mr. D hums without correcting the demigod, sipping on his diet coke dismissively.

Theo doesn't hate Scott, but he also doesn't like him - strongly, irrationally, dislikes him. Instinctively, he shuffles closer to Stiles as if his boyfriend is going to dissolve into the Mist if he isn't close enough to pull him back.

Theo's been agitated since Stiles told him, a week prior, that he was flying to New Rome in California where Camp Jupiter is, the Roman camp, for a 'friendly' visit. Everyone's allowed to cross borders, but no one has really done so just to tour around. After all, the camps are on opposing sides of the country and monsters don't pause to consider not killing vacationing demigods.

A couple of times before last week, when Theo visited Stiles in his Manhattan apartment, he'd, out of the blue, mentioned the varied courses and scholarships that New Rome University offered, as Theo laid his head on Stiles's lap while the latter read. Theo hadn't minded it at the time, as Stiles quickly dropped the subject. But another month passed and Stiles mentioned it again, randomly, during one of their IMs, adding that he might check into the enrollment requisites. Theo started to worry, then.

If Stiles goes to New Rome for college, Theo can't follow him. He never even got to finish eighth grade. And Scott, he's one of the Romans, their leader, and grudging as he is to admit, one of Stiles's friends now the more he visits Camp Half-Blood. He will eagerly encourage Stiles, telling him of the countless perks that Camp Jupiter has. He will be as big a hero there as he is in Camp Half-Blood, and he can rise to praetorship alongside Scott if the Legion so wishes it.

Scott is not a bad person per se, but he wears the color and insignia of the place Theo might lose Stiles to. And if Theo blinks the wrong way, he might not see quick enough that Stiles is being whisked away to the other side of the coast, leading a life without him.

⚔️🏹⚔️🏹⚔️🏹

After officially welcoming the son of Jupiter to the camp, feeding him, and getting him settled in Cabin One, the campers go about their daily routine of training.

The blade vibrates when it hits the shooting log, right on the marked spot. Then it disappears into thin air and reappears in Theo's hand only to be thrown back to the same spot. He does it repeatedly, unrelentingly, until Tara aims with his bow and hits his blade with an arrow to send both weapons clanging to the ground, a few meters away.

Theo heaves; he doesn't even know he's breathless just from throwing until then. Wiping beads of sweat from his forehead, he nods appreciatively at the bow in Tara's hands when his sister stands beside him with a smile. "If we aren't siblings, I'd mistake you for a daughter of Apollo."

"Please," she laughs, opening her palm, gesturing at the fallen weapons. Both her arrow and Theo's blade fly to her hands in a matter of seconds. "I don't want to light up like a glow stick while waxing poetry during a fight." Children of Apollo don't actually do those in the middle of a fight, but they do glow when they're healing, and they can make others speak in rhymes just for fun. Tara offers the knife back to his brother. "Also, we're children of Ares. By birthright alone, we should know to wield any weapon of war."

Theo takes the knife and snorts, "And yet, I suck at archery."

"I can't summon weapons out of thin air," She points out, grinning at him as she puts the arrow back to its sheaf. "I guess we just can't have it all or Zeus would be zapping us one by one."

Theo scoffs, leaning into position to begin throwing again.

"Speaking of Zeus," Tara says, a playful tone in her words. "Where's your favorite son of the Sky God?"

Theo spares her a glare before flinging his knife and burying it onto the battered practice log. He purses his lips before answering, "He's at the Big House with Chiron, Mr. D, Stiles, and the other head counselors." He clenches his fingers around the blade's hilt when it returns to his hands. "They're talking about a little orientation on New Rome University's scholarships and handing brochures and study guide for the DSTOMP." Theo doesn't bother hiding the acid in his voice from his sister. She'll recognize it anyway, even if he masks it with neutrality. He can't mask it with neutrality.

She quirks a brow, "You don't sound too eager," she notes. "Are you still jealous of Scott, little brother?"

"I'm not jealous of Scott," he says, gritting his teeth. "And don't call me little brother."

"Why are you so strung up, then, if you're not baselessly jealous?"

He finds his reply being interrupted for the second time that day, this time by a distant rumbling coming from the sky. All activities on the ground cease as everyone turns to the increasing volume of an invisible running engine. Theo scans the space above them, at first not grasping anything in motion, until a burst of light reveals a flying, glowing red bus coming down fast to the ground.

🏹⚔️🏹⚔️🏹⚔️

Someone goes to alert Chiron as the rest of them scamper to the landing site by the amphitheater. The bus landed surprisingly smooth, despite its breakneck descent.

"Is that a Ferrari bus?" One of the campers points out.

Sure enough, the logo at the front of the vehicle, a black prancing horse on a yellow background, is of the famous luxury sports brand. But why would there be a flying Ferrari bus at Camp Half-Blood?

"Oh gods," Lori gasps somewhere on Theo's left. "Is that dad's sun chariot?"

As if on cue, the bus door opens, and a teenager who looks about Theo's age exits, wearing what he can only describe as a hipster look. He flashes a blinding grin - and quite literally at that, since they have to shield their eyes momentarily from the glimmer of his teeth - clears his throat dramatically, and announces:

"Hello demigods

The sun landed on your grounds

I am so awesome."

There's silence at first, then a series of enthusiastic applause from Brett and the rest of cabin seven comes next. The teenager bows theatrically, although Theo finds nothing extraordinary about what he just said. But soon, the others join in with half-hearted claps, recognizing the powerful aura suddenly seeping into their skins that could only mean there's a god among them - well, another god, aside from Dionysus, their Camp Director. And with the terrible haiku, there will be no mistaking who graced their camp today. The last time Theo had seen him, during the almost war on his first year at camp, the god had worn the body of a muscular mid-20's blond man. Now, it seems he favors to look even younger despite his four thousand years.

"Lord Apollo," Chiron's voice drowns out the applaud as he trots forward, now in his form as a white stallion from the waist down. "It's a pleasant surprise. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood."

Mr. D isn't as warm. He snorts, rolling his eyes. "Oh, bother, what brought you here now?"

Apollo's bright persona doesn't falter as he gestures at the bus - that is apparently his sun chariot. Theo remembers the time when he almost drove Apollo's chariot, if the Hermes cabin did not snitch it from under their noses, and thus putting three cabins grounded after a severe prank war. He had to take Liam's dish duties and pay him just so his present for Stiles could be delivered in time for Christmas.

"I'm here at the request of my little sister." The god says proudly, as the door opens again, this time with grumbling teenage and prepubescent girls coming out from the bus. All dressed in the same outfit: silver jackets, silver camo pants, and black combat boots, and they carry at their backs a quiver of sharp silver arrows. They glance at Apollo with apparent distrust, standing as far away from him as possible, as the god continues, "To deliver her hunters safely while she's away on a personal errand."

Several demigods groan in displeasure at the news, and even Chiron's lips form a thin line, though he tries to smile through the tension. Mr. D seems to be delighted now, though, happier to see the strange, vicious-looking ladies than his own brother. Personally, it feels like an omen of danger. Mr. D is never happy unless something perilous is about to descend upon his campers - even if his own daughter, Malia, is among them.

"Thank you, Lord Apollo." One of the hunters says albeit she looks physically pained by her words. She stands at the front of the group, a silver ring headwear around her head, with bouncing black curls, a pointed nose, and a strong chin. The other hunters also look at her when she speaks. It's easy to recognize her as the group's leader. "And thank you, Lord Dionysus, Chiron, for accomodating the hunters of Lady Artemis."

Chiron nods at the girl, eyes softening with kindness born out of familiarity, "You're always welcome, Allison."

Mr. D laughs boisterously, then. Like his punishment has just been lifted and he can go back to Olympus and away from the brats, celebrating by getting drunk on wine after years of prohibition. "Well, at least, Capture the Flag this Friday seems more enticing now, don't you think so, Chiron?" He gives a wicked grin at his campers, not waiting for a reply, his change in demeanor promising a torturous next few days for the demigods. "Ready to lose the Camp Half-Blood banner to these little girls for the 58th time in a row?"

~•~

#steo #steo fic #demigod au #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #stiles x theo #so idk what the heck happened #but i wrote 1k words more than my target word count #ahdbdjdjskxb idk #also for the demigod anon here's a response to one of your prompts!!#it took a hot minute but i hope you see this #scott mccall #brett talbot #tara raeken #allison argent #fics tag #demigodseries

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wherevermyway · 5 years ago

Text

step out! do what you want (chapter four)

pairings: reader/bang chan, reader/han jisung  side pairings: established changbin/minho, reader/bang chan/han jisung rating: explicit | 18+ warnings: shit gets sour real quick in this chapter, so hold on to your butts. violence, graphic descriptions of said violence, use of firearms, gunshot wounds, injuries, blood, profanity, use of drugs (mild), mention of sex, drug dealer!au, organized crime!au. also, holy fuck, so much angst. word count: about 8,100 also posted to my AO3 here! chapter/series navigation

chapter four: laugh now, cry later

recommended tracks (it’s not all kpop/jpop this time): laugh now, cry later by drake, levanter by stray kids, the next best american record by lana del rey, burn it by agust d & max, sorry mama by dkb, 일곱 번째 감각 (the 7th sense) by nct u, 불면증 insomnia by stray kids, lost by desired, ta by stray kids, fake love by bts, shc by foster the people, yeah right by joji, don’t touch me by 3racha, spring day (bts piano cover) by smyang piano. playlist can be found here!

note: this chapter is fucking nuts. there’s a shift in my writing style for this one; it’s a lot more passive and descriptive for the first bit, so I hope it doesn’t bother you too much. thank you for tagging along with this wild ride so far, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

disclaimer: any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable, please stop reading now.

side note: for the love of minho’s cats, don’t mix party drugs or drugs with alcohol.

The elevator softly touches down with the first floor of the building. Felix and Jeongin step out first, cautiously looking around the building. Jeongin waves at the three of you in the elevator, motioning for you to keep moving. Christopher squeezes your hand so hard, you think it might pop off. He pulls you along as he methodically steps out of the elevator, Jisung following you both and he is resting his hand on the small of your back.

You make your way to the front door, the younger men holding the doors open for the three of you. A black SUV sits in the street right in front of the door, and you can faintly make out Changbin’s features through the dark.

“Let’s fucking go!” He shouts at all of you through the open passenger side window. Felix opens the middle side door, throwing the duffel bag into the back seat. He waves his hand for you to get in, helping you up with his hand. You head for the very back of the van, seating yourself in the middle of the row. Jisung is the next in behind you, crawling in and sitting down to your left.

Jeongin opens the front passenger door, climbing in and taking one of his pistols out of its holster, holding it in his lap as he scans the perimeter through the windshield.

For a moment, time feels like it’s a paradox: going so fast that you can’t anchor yourself down, but also going so slowly that you swore that you could see the individual particles of light travelling around you. Everything gets quiet for a second as Christopher turns to the car, his head craned over his left shoulder, eyes meeting yours, and time completely halts.

The space-time paradox you find yourself in renders itself inert. You study all of the details of his face, how each individual strand of hair lightly curls from the top of his scalp, how the ambient lighting reflects in his eyes and illuminates his face. His face was gorgeous, but his side profile captivated you.

That’s when it happens.

Everything gets blisteringly loud and bright, and you stay frozen. The way that Christopher’s face contorts to the noises and sounds isn’t right; he’s grimacing in pain and anger, slowly turning to where Jeongin and Felix are shooting.

Shooting? When did you register that they were shooting?

Jisung had leaped forward to the black duffel bag, ripping it open and pulling out a semi-automatic rifle, hanging himself out of the door, shooting in the same direction.

It’s grotesquely incredible, really, in a dark, disturbing poetic way. In this moment of time, everything freezes. Nothing truly exists; you are living in a still photo, but you can still move your eyes. Changbin is loading a pistol in the front seat, Jeongin in the seat next to him, leaning out of the window. Jisung is standing completely upright, half of his torso hanging out of the door, his left shoulder anchoring him to top of the car as he holds his rifle up to his right shoulder. Outside the window, you see the nearly-white hair of Felix, aiming his pistol out to something - or someone - in front of him.

However, you don’t see Christopher anywhere, which is peculiar, because he was right there just a second ago. Where did he go?

You manage to lift yourself off of the seat, feeling like all of your limbs are weighted down with cement. The men around you don’t notice, still moving in slow motion. As you get past the seats in front of you, you turn to your right, and that’s when you see Christopher. He’s on the ground, leaning on the car, gripping his right shoulder.

That’s odd. When you left the apartment earlier, you don’t remember seeing his shirt so… red? You could have sworn it was a soft grey.

Why was water dripping on your arms? How could it be raining inside the car? Why did Christopher look so uncomfortable? How come his face was scrunched up in pain?

Pain? Did he fall down?

No. No, of course he didn’t.

Suddenly, it was like a mute button was turned off, and it felt like you were a tape left on fast-forward, stuck in a VCR. Things were zooming past you, and you could have sworn that there were blurry lines taking over your vision. Things came back, all at once, and the first sound you could hear was the sound of your own voice, screaming out in primal despair. Everything was so blisteringly loud that you couldn’t focus on a single thing. Reality came crashing down on you, like a tidal wave colliding with the coast.

Christopher wasn’t wearing a red shirt.

He didn’t fall down. It wasn’t raining in the car.

He was shot in his right shoulder, bleeding profusely, and you were screaming and crying because you knew.

Christopher was shot. Christopher was going to die.

You were no longer living in a still photo; you had become the still photo, unable to move. Jisung tosses the rifle he was holding onto the sidewalk, yelling something at Felix, getting him to try to move Christopher. He turns to you, motioning for you to move, saying something to you in a foreign language.

Why was he yelling at you in a different language? Why couldn’t you understand Korean anymore? Jisung was suddenly in the car now, right in front of you, grabbing you up from under your underarms and pushing you on to one of the passenger seats behind you. He says something to you, directly in your face, but you still can’t understand him.

Jisung jumps back on to the sidewalk, helping Felix lift Christopher into the car. He’s yelling something over his shoulder to Changbin, and Jeongin is trying to get your attention. He’s talking to you too in this peculiar language, pushing his hands down repeatedly in a steadied motion, trying to calm you down.

As soon as both Felix and Jisung are completely in the car, Jisung reaches out for the rifle on the ground, pulling it in as he slams the door shut. You feel the vehicle shift as it speeds down the street. Jisung and Felix have moved Christopher to the very back of the vehicle. You turn to look at him, and his face is soft, his eyes open, glossy, and staring at you. He reaches his left arm out towards you, weakly and softly whispering your name.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he breathily says, a weak smile curving at the corner of his mouth. All of the words being thrown around the car suddenly making sense again, as if someone flicked a switch. “Just a scrape. I’ll be okay. I promise.” He punctuates his sentences with short, shallow breaths. You grab his hand, holding it to comfort him. There was no way you could bring yourself to look away from him.

“I need another shirt or something to pack this,” you hear Felix’s voice, realizing that he’s taken his sweatshirt off and is holding it up against Christopher’s wound.

“I’ve got it,” Jisung says, ripping his jacket off, bringing it down to Christopher’s chest to help Felix control the bleeding.

There’s just so much blood everywhere.

You remember a fact that someone told you once in university: the human blood has between four and six litres of blood in it. Losing 750 millilitres is enough to cause the human body to start to go into hemolytic shock. Two litres of loss, or 40% the body’s total volume, was almost always fatal.

The sight of seeing how much Christopher’s blood has been painted over the car nearly puts you into shock. It’s on the floor, on every seat in the vehicle, even on the ceiling, and on Jisung and Felix. His blood is on you, too, starting to dry on your exposed skin.

“How much longer, Changbin?” Jisung is yelling at the top of his lungs, looking past you to the front of the car.

“Five minutes,” Changbin says, trying to sound calm, but there’s a slight wavering in his voice. “How is Chan doing?”

“I can’t tell,” Felix says without looking up, “he’s conscious, but disoriented. I don’t like how much blood Bang-hyung has lost. I can’t find an exit wound, either. I’m not sure if it’s a cluster of veins or an artery, but this isn’t good.”

Christopher coughs, sputtering up some blood. The dark, viscous liquid spills from the corner of his mouth. His eyes are gazing past you, starting to cloud up. “I’m sorry,” he manages to groan out. His eyes roll back a bit, as his hand loses its grip on yours, suddenly turning his entire arm into dead weight.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Jisung shouts with urgency, digging underneath the seats in the vehicle, clearly looking for something - anything, really - to help him stabilize Christopher.

You feel paralyzed, holding on to Christopher’s hand as it grows clammy and lukewarm. This wasn’t happening, there’s no way. It had to have been a dream.

You were dreaming. Right?

After your shower the second night you were at Christopher’s, both of you were laying in bed in the dark, waiting to fall asleep. He had given you an oversized, worn t-shirt of his to sleep in, and it was comfortable. He had mentioned how much he loved sleeping in that shirt because it was so soft. It wasn’t long after you both got in bed that he reached out to you, snuggling right up to your back.

“Isn’t it the best shirt?” His voice was tired and calm. He rubbed his thumb back and forth on your shoulder, enjoying the feel of the fabric on his skin. You hummed in agreement, scooting yourself back into him to get closer. “I remember wearing this all the time when I was in high school. I would put it on right when I got home. It was always way more comfortable after wearing a stuffy, itchy uniform all day. It took a couple of years of wear to get it to be this soft. I’m glad I kept it, because you look really great in it, almost like it was meant to be.”

Your face felt like it was burning up as you became flustered. “What? Meant to be?”

Christopher sleepily hummed in response, nuzzling his face on your shoulder. “Yeah. Since we’re going to be stuck with each other for a while, we might as well at least enjoy our company. Make it feel as natural as we can, hmm?”

The prospect of getting closer to him didn’t bother you, not at all. After all, he did have a point. What would the point be in making yourselves miserable and trying to make the situation worse? Someone in university once told you that “fake it ’til you make it” mentality had actual positive results in psychology, so why not apply it here?

“Hey, Christopher?”

“What’s up?” His voice sounded even more tired and soft. In a way, it was endearing.

“Have you ever had a girlfriend, or a boyfriend, or something?”

“Mmm,” he sleepily moaned, “yeah, I dated this girl back in high school, but it never worked out. Kinda had a few flings with people here and there, but nothing ever stuck. I’m too flighty because of my career, so I can’t really commit. The fewer people you get close to, the fewer things you have to bargain for if someone wants to hurt you.”

“Oh,” you whisper. It made sense, honestly, but it felt like there was a pit in your stomach.

“How come? What about you?” He says, shifting himself up so his chin is resting at the top of your shoulder.

“Ah, that story about the washroom in the nightclub? That was my last boyfriend. We were together for a few years, but we split. He got some big new job that was taking up too much time for him, and I was really busy with my modelling career. We didn’t make time for each other.”

“That sucks.” Christopher says, his breath tickled your cheek as he spoke. “Good for me, though.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

The bright lights of the hospital rip you from your daydream. Jisung and Felix carry Christopher from the back seat of the van out through the side door. Your hand falls from Christopher’s, leaving his arm out to hang limply to his side, lifeless and cold. Changbin’s voice rings in your head, distant, off in another world. It’s like he’s on the shore and you’re stranded in the ocean; you can hear him, but you can barely make out what he’s saying. You can’t even fully comprehend it, just barely able to tell that he’s telling you to stay back, not to follow Christopher into the hospital.

Your legs are moving by themselves, shaking as you drop from the vehicle, treading your way through to the emergency doors of the hospital as if you were trying to wade through a shallow pool. Jisung’s silver hair and Felix’s blond hair bounce beams of light around, as if each strand were a mirror, brightly guiding you along the way through the hallways of the hospital, until they stop.

Hands are grasping on to your arms, holding you back as you see Christopher wheeled away by emergency personnel through a pair of sterile-looking doors. “Baby,” you hear Jisung’s voice bring you back to focus. “You can’t go with him. None of us can.”

You try to fight against him, to scream, to plead and sell your soul to the devil in exchange to save Christopher, but nothing works. Your body is rebelling against your mind, not allowing you to push yourself any further, forcing you to your knees. The only thing your body will let you do is cry, collapsing within yourself to weep deep, body-racking sobs.

Jisung kneels down to you, lightly gripping your shoulders, pulling you to his chest. “It’s okay,” he whispers into your ear, rocking you back and forth, trying to shush you. His hands run through your hair, trying to help you calm down.

“Felix,” he calmly says, “I need you to get Changbin-hyung. We need to get her out of here.”

“Understood, Han,” the younger man says, footsteps quickly fading from earshot.

“I need you to calm down,” Jisung’s voice is right up next to your ear, arms wrapping you into a tight embrace. “Christopher can’t heal if you’re panicking, okay? Please calm down, baby. He’ll be okay, I promise.”

He’s lying. There’s no way that he promise that, you know that in the back of your head. Nobody could promise that.

Regardless of if it’s true or not, it does make you feel somewhat better. It’s not enough to get you to stop crying, but it’s enough to allow you to catch your breath.

“That’s it,” you hear Jisung whisper into your ear. “We’ll get through this together. I’ve got you.”

You feel as if you’re glued to Jisung’s chest for an eternity. The sound of footsteps and Changbin’s voice grasps your attention and causes Jisung to shift behind you. As he moves, your entire body feels weighted down with lead, heavy and rendering you incapable of moving. You’re not sure when exactly you stopped crying, allowing the sinking, numbing feeling to take over you.

“Here,” Changbin’s hushed voice is close to you, and it sounds so soft and calm. “Give this to her. Half a gram. Should be enough until you both get to the safehouse in Incheon. There’s more there; I’m sure you’ll both need it.”

“You sure about this?” Jisung whispers, barely audible enough for you to hear it.

“I can’t have a scene here, Han. Not now.” Changbin quietly says, sighing and sounding beyond exhausted, “I’ll send you the specific location over text, just take the SUV we brought. I’ll have Seungmin take care of the rest later. Eventually.” Another deep, heavy sigh comes from him. “Shit, this is bad. First Hyunjin, now Chan. Fuck.”

“Alright, hyung. Understood.” Jisung says, bringing a hand in front of your face. He slips his fingers to your lips, a small object touching them. “Baby, I need you to trust me and take this. It’ll calm you down. Just leave it on your tongue until it’s gone, okay?”

You don’t really want to take whatever it is he’s offering, but you don’t have the energy to protest. You part your lips, sticking your tongue out just a bit to the foreign object, taking it in and allowing it to rest on your tongue. It starts to dissolve, a bitter flavour enveloping all of your tastebuds. As you open your mouth to protest leaving again, everything starts to get two-dimensional: muted and really heavy.

Jisung scoops you into his arms, and you somehow wriggle the limp pasta noodles you have for arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry for all of this,” he says; his voice sounding as if it’s coming through a low-quality mono channel, muffled and one-note. It doesn’t even sound real. It almost feels like his voice drags and blends in with the blurry surroundings, as if sound and sight could be merged.

You open your mouth to speak, but it’s like there’s a cord from your brain to your mouth that’s severed, preventing you from operating your jaw muscles. You want to tell him to stop, turn back, that you both needed to be there for Christopher. You desperately want to tell him so many things, but your eyes grow heavy and you lose all motivation to even try as your head collides down to his shoulder with a thud and everything goes black.

When you were fifteen, celebrating your acceptance into senior high school, you remember your mother pulling you aside, telling you to never settle for a partner that viewed you as less than royalty and to always put yourself first. She would tell you how she appreciated how hard your father worked to provide for the three of you, but how she always wished she would have gone back to the workforce when you started to get older so she could make sure you had all of the financial support you’d ever need and so she had more purpose in life. You were their only child, and your parents loved you so much.

You couldn’t help but wonder what your mother would think of you being caught up in the chaos of an organized crime ring, with two men caring for you and protecting you, one of which literally taking a bullet in front of your eyes. She never approved of you leaving your stable corporate job in Japan to become a model in South Korea, but she knew that there was no way to stop you - you had her stubbornness, after all. There was absolutely no way she would ever approve of this, not with how violent everything was, even if both men were actually willing to take actual bullets for you.

“Baby,” a voice rings in your ears, but you can’t quite place who is calling for you. It’s like your brain hallucinates a strange combination of your mother’s, Jisung’s, and Christopher’s voices. “You need to wake up.” The voice illuminates a light in the distance, drawing you into it. “Come on,” the voice is louder now, sounding more and more like Christopher. That couldn’t be right. Could it?

“Baby, you gotta get up. I need you to get up.” A warm hand is on your shoulder, shaking you gently, and you’re suddenly more conscious of your body. You flutter your eyes open, their dryness causing a stinging pain from corner to corner of your eyes. The scenery around you starts to come into focus from a blur. The sky is warm as dawn is breaking behind you, illuminating the cars flying past you on both sides of the vehicle. You’re on a highway, but your surroundings aren’t familiar.

“Hey,” the voice is clear, and you recognize it: it’s Jisung. “You’re back. I’m sorry, the Xanax knocked you out pretty hard after I gave it to you. You’re probably going to be out of it and feel like shit for a while.” He moves his hand from your shoulder to your thigh.

You groan, turning your head to look at Jisung. “The fuck?” Your voice sounds foreign: low and gravelly. “Where are we?” As much as you want to crane your head to the window, resting your head against the headrest in this position is too comfortable.

Jisung takes his hand off of your thigh, swiping the back of his hand up against his cheek, sniffling once. “Sorry, bunny,” he says, returning his hand to your thigh. “Changbin-hyung ordered us to head into Incheon. There’s a safehouse out here. Actually, we’re just about there.”

You blink a few times, trying to shake the haze out of your head, and failing to do so. Incheon? No, that couldn’t be right. Christopher was still in Gangnam, all the way in Seoul. “No,” you slur out, fumbling to sit upright. “No, we can’t be in Incheon. Christopher is still in the hospital, isn’t he?”

“Baby,” Jisung grips your thigh tighter, stroking his thumb back and forth. “He won’t heal if we’re hovering over him. Besides, it’s too dangerous for all of us to be there with him. We’re a bigger target if we’re in a large group. We’re only a half hour away, it’s okay.”

“But,” you open your mouth to protest, and Jisung brings his hand up to your face.

“I need you to trust me. Please.” He doesn’t look at you, his eyes still trained to the road. He bites his lip back, face wincing in pain. “Fuck, I don’t know why I’m doing this.” You’re still fuzzy, frustrated that you’re so far away from Christopher in case something goes wrong, but seeing Jisung so upset doesn’t sit well with you either.

You sit there for a few minutes, watching Jisung in silence. He pulls the car into a residential parking garage. He stops in front of a gate at the bottom floor, fumbling around with storage unit in the centre console, pulling out a handful of cards. He shuffles through them with focus, until he pulls one out that has “Hagik-2” scribbled on it in permanent marker. He rolls the window down, flashing the card in front of the card reader, and the gate opens.

Jisung unceremoniously tosses the card on top of the others in the centre console, proceeding through the gate slowly and rolling up the window. He turns into a reserved parking spot, shifting the vehicle into park and turning it off. “We’re here. Are you going to be alright enough to stand?”

You unbuckle your seatbelt and rub your face tiredly, hoping it will wake you up. “I’m gonna need your help moving, but I think I can stand.”

“I can work with that,” Jisung says softly, unbuckling his seatbelt, lifting the armrest up, leaning over to you. He gently grabs either side of your face, tilting your head up to meet his for a soft kiss. “Let me be strong for you. Alright?”

You weakly nod your head, and Jisung pulls away. “Good,” he says, grabbing his phone off of the dashboard holder, opening the door. “Let me grab this bag and I’ll help you out of the car.” Everything feels so heavy, but your emotions are still dampened, which, honestly, is a good thing for now. You let your head rest on the seat, closing your eyes for just a moment.

What time was it, anyways? It was four when Changbin called, you remember Christopher grumbling about it very vividly. It was probably 40 minutes from where you were in Seoul to where you were in Incheon now, and the sun was already up over the horizon when you woke up. Maybe it was six now?

The door opens next to you, pulling you away from your thoughts as you open your eyes. “Trying to nap again?” Jisung says with a smirk, offering his hands to you, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “Come on, once we get inside, you can sleep all you need to.”

Your brain blurs the time from exiting the vehicle to entering the safehouse. It’s almost as if you blinked, and you were on another foreign bed, staring up at the ceiling. Jisung’s voice trails in from the doorway, talking to someone on the phone. You don’t really focus on it, only paying attention for a brief moment when he says your name a couple of times.

You let your eyes close again, drifting off into the same headspace you were in before. It was insane to think that, just a few days ago, you were rolling around in bed with a stranger, having the time of your life. Now you were here, in some random apartment with your ex-boyfriend, who is maybe no longer your ex-boyfriend, with your maybe new boyfriend’s blood all over your hands and arms. Was boyfriend even a good word for either of them right now?

The situation was so absurd that, if you weren’t living through it now, you wouldn’t believe it; dismiss it as some stupid movie plot or some elaborate lie. Maybe you would laugh about it later, years down the line. You can hear yourself telling Jisung and Christopher, “Wow, remember that time we all slept together and then you got shot in the shoulder just a couple hours later? How crazy was that?” Minji would laugh about it too, once she got over the fact that you were knee-deep in crazy kkangpae shit. She’d laugh about it if you made it out alive. If you ever saw her again.

It doesn’t occur to you that you’re wildly cackling until Jisung is shaking you, yelling your name in your face. You snap your eyes open and look directly at him, feeling the smile on your face fade as you see Jisung looking at you with serious concern. “What is happening with you? How can you be laughing right now?” He says, tears welling up in eyes.

“Jisung,” you manage to coherently spit out, still feeling hazy from the Xanax Jisung gave you. “Isn’t all of this ridiculous? How was it that the three of us had such a good night last night, and now we’re being hunted down? Why is Christopher in the hospital with a bullet in his shoulder? Why is any of this shit happening?”

You don’t realize it until you stop babbling, but tears are falling from your eyes in a steady stream. Jisung jaw twitches as he furrows his brows in anguish. He tries to say something, strained noises leaving his throat, but the words never totally make it out. Something in him cracks, and his head sinks down, crying full-blown sobs. He collapses down on top of you, wrapping you tightly in his arms.

Both of you stay like that for a while, completely exhausting yourself from crying.

Jisung had always been a good person; he was kind-hearted and soft with the people he was close to, but would stop to help a stranger if they needed it. You started to notice it about a couple months after you officially started dating, a month after your initial drunken escapade. You were about to head back to Japan for two weeks for an important shoot for a big name company, excited that you had finally landed a gig with them.

He had surprised you the night before you left, coming to your apartment with some takeout, a bottle of cheap sparkling wine, and flowers. You remember he literally jumped on you when you opened your door, excitedly congratulating you. “I’m so proud of you, bunny!” He had shouted over and over again. He had helped you pack, both of you taking intermittent breaks to eat and sip on the really terrible wine he brought.

What would have taken you a half hour ended up taking you three hours because you couldn’t peel yourselves off of each other. You should have packed up your clothes and demo shots, but you just couldn’t stop yourself from pouncing on Jisung when he was sitting on the couch, looking positively delectable. Naturally, he couldn’t turn you down when you came on to him.

He had taken you right there on the couch, taking his sweet time to devote all of his attention on you, making sure you came a couple of times. When he was deep inside you, he grinned at you with a coy smile, something so innocent and cute, whispering to you that he loved you, he loved you so much. It had taken you aback, just how bluntly he had admitted it for the first time. His eyes were full of excitement, and he had the biggest grin on his face. You couldn’t help but tell him how much you loved him, too.

To see him here, now, so broken up and upset shattered your heart into pieces. The Jisung you knew would never have gotten involved in this, never would have hurt another living creature intentionally if he could avoid it. That’s likely why it looked like this entire situation took all of his energy out of him.

Jisung turns up to look at you with bloodshot, tired eyes. “Why is this happening?” He says, his eyes threatening to tear up again, then rolling onto his back. “I never wanted any of this, you know. I only joined the family to help get my music career going. If I knew any of this would happen, I never would have done this. I would go back and stop myself from getting involved with this, even if it cost me my entire career.”

He sighs heavily, bringing his hands up to cover his face. “I always thought that if I gave it time, I could become strong and tough like my hyungs. I regret doing all of this because I know I’m not tough enough for this. I didn’t do this because I wanted to, I did it to survive. Can you ever forgive me for all of this shit?”

Everything in your brain is frazzled and dull, but you somehow manage to turn all of your attention to the silver-haired man beside you. “Sungie,” you whisper, reaching out to touch his face, “I could never blame you for any of this. Nobody could have expected this would turn out the way it would. I promise, I forgive you.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says, wiping tears from under his eyes, “I said I would be strong for you, but I just can’t, not right now.”

You couldn’t really blame him, honestly. He wasn’t made out to be a part of the violent criminal life. As far as you knew, he was always good in the middle of chaos, but once things would calm down, it would hit him like a tonne of bricks. You reached out to Jisung, pulling him into your chest.

You wanted to reassure him that everything would be okay, but you knew better. There was no way you could even remotely promise something like that. So, you settled. “I’ll be strong for you now, okay? We can be strong for each other when we need to be.”

Jisung grips your arms tightly, snuggling his head up against your chest. “I’m so worried about Chan-hyung. I called Changbin-hyung after bringing you to bed and he told me he’s in surgery.” Your heart skips a beat for a moment, breath caught in your throat. “He lost a lot of blood. I think he said Chan-hyung went into shock. The bullet hit his, ah, what was it called? It was one of his arteries - I think he said axillary?”

“Did Changbin say if he was going to be okay?” You didn’t want to know the answer, fearing the worst possible outcome, but you needed to know anyway.

Jisung is quiet for a moment, loosening his grip on your arms. “He didn’t know. Changbin-hyung did say it wasn’t looking good, but we wouldn’t know for a while. He’s donating some of his blood, since they’re the same type, and he’d call me once he was done and knew more.”

You roll your head back and breathe out a slow, controlled sigh. This entire situation was an absolute mess. You needed to know, though, how this happened. Everything was going so blissfully well until it wasn’t. It all happened at the drop of a hat.

“Jisung,” you say, pulling back a bit from the man in your arms to look at him. “What happened out there? We were getting in the car, and all of a sudden, bullets were flying all over the place.”

Jisung looks up at you, a look of discomfort on his face. He lets go of your arms and sits up, folding his legs, resting his elbows on them so he could rest his head on his hands. “I don’t know how it happened. Before I grabbed the rifle from the duffel bag, I just saw these two guys coming at us from down the street. They were in all black, so when we saw them, it was too late. Their first few shots missed us, but Chan-hyung must have been an easy target. Maybe it was deliberate, like he was their target from the start.”

“Are the other guys, you know,” you pause, not really wanting to know the aftermath of the altercation, “are they dead?”

The silver-haired man reaches down to the comforter beneath him, inanely plucking a strand of string poking up from it. “Dunno. We shot quite a bit at them, and I saw one of the guys go down, but once I realized that Chan-hyung was hit, I just kind of stopped paying attention to them. I think Jeongin got the other guy; he’s always had good aim as long as he’s been with us. It was too dark to see much else.

“I hope they’re not dead. I’m already freaking the fuck out over knowing that we were in a gunfight and I shot at them. I don’t need anything else on my conscience.” Jisung quietly sighs, then turns to look at you, his face void of any strong emotions. “I never thought I’d ever have to shoot a living person. The guys taught me well, sure, but it’s so much more different than shooting in the range.”

You sit up and scoot yourself up next to Jisung, resting your head on his shoulder. “I hope we’ll get through this alright.”

“We will." Jisung rests his head on yours, reaching his hand up to stroke your hair. “At least, I think we will.”

The two of you sit like that in silence for several minutes, staring off into the comforter as your eyes start to hallucinate patterns in the fabric.

The ringing of Jisung’s phone scares both of you, causing you to jump. You lift your head off of his shoulder as he pulls his phone out from his back pocket. You see the name on the screen and you subconsciously hold your breath. It was Changbin.

It takes a couple of rings before Jisung answers his phone. He pulls it up to his right ear so that you both can hear the conversation. “Hyung,” he says with a tremble in his voice.

“Han.” Changbin’s voice is calm, tinny from the small speaker. “Chan is going to be coming out of surgery within the next hour. Once he’s out, Seungmin will be covering for me. I need to come over and talk to you both about what Minho found out.”

“What happened?” Jisung says with a concerned tone to his voice.

“I can’t talk about it over the phone, it’s not safe. Felix is coming with me and will be staying with you for protection. Until this shit has been sorted out, nobody gets left alone.”

“But I’m here,” you interject.

Changbin sighs. “You’re not trained to handle this. Do you even know how to fire a gun?”

Your lips pull into a firm line. Changbin was right: there was nothing you could do to help, even if you wanted. You had no experience with weapons or combat in general; you would just be a hindrance if something happened.

“That’s what I thought. Anyway, as much as I don’t want him to be, Minho is back in. He’s with Hyunjin now, who is doing much better. He should be released tomorrow. They’ll be in another location once I can pin some things down.”

“What do you need me to do?” Jisung looks focused, sitting upright.

“I need you to stay there. Your ex-girlfriend is a liability right now and I can’t have her out of our hands, so I’m entrusting you to keep an eye on her. Tell her to turn her phone off, too.“

A liability?

Jisung must have had the same thought as you, because he looks at you in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Not now, Han. I need to go. I’ll keep you posted on any updates. If you need me, call me. Understood?” Changbin sounds annoyed and tired, even over the phone. All of this had to have been taking a toll on him, but he was the leader of the group, so it was just something he would have to deal with.

“Understood, Changbin-hyung.” Jisung says, and the line goes quiet. He pulls his phone away from his face and just stares at it. “Why are you a liability? Is it because you’re a civilian?”

In all honesty, you were just as confused as him. You flop onto your back and stare at the ceiling.

“Where’s your phone?” Jisung says, turning to you.

You reach into your back pocket and grab it. It was strange, you hadn’t been looking at it for the past day or so. Minji had texted you so many times, her messages flooded the screen when you expanded them.

Oh my god Hyunjin was shot

Eonni what the fuck do I do?

Oh my god he’s in the hospital. There’s a guy here that said I’m not allowed to see him.

Fuck this guy. He won’t leave me alone. Keeps telling me to get out.

I am so mad

Why the fuck did he get shot???

Eonni where are you? I don’t believe you at all

I know you’re not sick

You’re still with Bang Chan, arent you?

are you even alive anymore

I need you eonni please tell me youre ok

That was the last text you received from Minji. You open the text messages to respond and tell her you're alright, but Jisung snatches your phone from your hands, powering it off.

“Sorry,” he says, tossing your phone on the dresser next to him. “I gotta follow Changbin-hyung’s orders. There’s gotta be a reason he wanted your phone to be off.”

You frown in response, but understand. Minji will just have to wait for now, as much as you didn’t want to leave her alone. She had to be really scared and confused. Sure, she and Hyunjin weren’t together anymore (as far as you were aware, at least), but you knew from firsthand experience it was to watch someone you were starting to get close to get shot.

A deep sigh escapes your lips, and your bring your hands to your face, groaning in frustration. “This sucks,” is all you can manage to say. The Xanax was wearing off, and your emotions were starting to surface again, the crushing feeling of dread becoming more and more apparent, enveloping you in discomfort.

“Yeah,” Jisung flops down next to you. “I don’t know what to do or where to go from here.”

“Is this the first altercation you’ve been in since joining them?”

Jisung brings his hands behind his head and bites his lip. “Not really, but this is the first one that was actually serious. The first one was when I was taking care of a protection fee collection with Seungmin in Songpa-gu, back when I was still really new.

“Seungmin had gotten a call from Chan-hyung, so he had to step out for a minute. One guy that we were meeting with was feeling pretty testy, didn’t want to give up the entire payment that was due. I think he had a feeling I was new.” Jisung rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Tried taking it out on me. He practically jumped over the table as soon as Seungmin stepped out, but I was faster than him.

“His fist just barely passed my face and I managed to step to the side just in time. The guy managed to grab me and throw me to the ground. He punched me once, right in the jaw, so I kneed him in the stomach. My knife was in my back pocket, so I couldn’t reach it. I just let my instincts take over and I beat the shit outta the guy.”

Jisung smirks, obviously proud of how he handled the situation. “Anyway, Seungmin heard what was happening and when he came back in, he gave the dude a swift kick to the ribs. We ended up getting double the protection fee we needed, plus a little extra as an apology.”

“Holy shit,” you feel your jaw drop as Jisung finishes his recollection. “When the fuck did you learn how to get into a fight? Who are you?”

You both sit and stare at each other for a moment, then both of you break out into giggles. It was nice to be able to laugh for once today, after how hectic the past twelve hours have been.

“You know what?” Jisung says, taking in a deep breath, then making a pointed effort to stare directly into your eyes. “I don’t want to go through this at all, but I’m glad it’s with you. If it was just me here, alone, in this situation? I don’t know how I’d handle it.” He reaches out to your face, cupping your cheek in his hand. “I really hope Chan-hyung makes it out of here. I hope that we all make it out of this mess alive.”

You didn’t really know what to say as you looked into Jisung’s deep brown eyes. The otherworldliness of your plight melted away, if only for a moment, as you both stared at each other. The familiar feeling of waking up next to him for so many mornings is strangely close to the front of your memories, but it also feels so distant and foreign.

The Jisung you knew back then was so soft and gentle. This Jisung has his soft and gentle moments, but there was a new air of mystery to him. The new persona of his wasn’t bad, it was just such a stark difference to what you were used to. Seeing him so stoic and serious when you all were getting shot at and with taking care of Christopher was strange.

“What?” Jisung’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. “Something on my face?”

“No, nothing like that.” You look down and frown. “It’s just weird that you’re the same Jisung I knew a year ago, but you’ve also changed so much.”

There’s a tense pause between you for a moment.

“Is that bad?” Jisung says so quietly, it’s almost like a whisper. He’s obviously pensive about how you’ll respond to him.

“No, it’s just different. It’ll take some time to adjust to, that’s all.” You look back up to Jisung, and his face relaxes into a soft smile with your words.

“That’s good.” He stretches his arms into the air and rolls on to his back. “Well, since it’ll be a while until Changbin-hyung and Felix come by, I think I’m gonna take a nap.” He tilts his head in your direction and opens his arms in offering. “Come here.”

A faint smile comes up on your face, and you bring yourself close to Jisung, resting your head and your arm on his chest. “I think that sounds good. We didn’t get much sleep, did we?”

Jisung scoffs, wrapping his arms around you. “Yeah, we really didn’t. Who knows how much sleep we’ll get in the upcoming days, so might as well get it when we can.” He mindlessly strokes your hair, breathing in a slow, even cadence.

You let your eyes fall heavy, enjoying the warm embrace of Jisung’s arms. There was nothing more that you wanted, however, than to have Christopher here with you both.

“Han?” A voice comes from outside the bedroom, startling Jisung awake. He panics for a moment, clearly not recognizing the voice, bolting up off of the bed. “You didn’t answer your texts, so I let myself in.”

“Changbin-hyung?” He tentatively says, readying his stance.

“Yeah,” Changbin answers, walking into the bedroom. “you’d know if you checked your phone.”

“Ah,” Jisung relaxes and sighs. “Sorry, we were taking a nap. Didn’t get much sleep.”

Changbin shoots his junior a disappointed glance, then rolls his eyes to you. “Where’s your phone?”

“Hi, Changbin, nice to see you’re alive,” you sarcastically grumble as you sit upright. Changbin isn’t amused by your quip, his expression falling flat. “Sorry, it’s on the dresser over here.” You scoot over to the dresser was on Jisung’s side of the bed, and grab your phone.

Changbin wastes no time snatching your phone from you as soon as you grab it. He sticks his thumbs in the middle of the screen, pulling both ends together and popping your phone in two with a crinkle and snaps.

“What the fuck?” You shout in frustration. That wasn’t a cheap phone, and there was no reason for him to break it in two.

“You’re being tracked.” Changbin tosses your phone to the floor, stepping on it with his heel for good measure. He folds his arms and looks at you with a glare. “Or you’re working with them. I haven’t figured it out yet, but I will. If you’re working with them, I will kill you right here.”

“Hyung, what the fuck?” Jisung snaps, getting in between both of you. “How dare you?”

Changbin rolls his eyes and scoffs. “What? You haven’t talked to her in a year, what do you know?” He shifts his weight on to his right foot, eyeing you down again before pulling the pistol out from the holster on his hip, pointing it directly at your head.

“You need to be honest with me. I don’t miss from this close.”

#stray kids fic #skz fic #bang chan x reader #han jisung x reader #chan x jisung x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan #chris bang #han jisung #step out do what you want

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potatotrash0 · 4 years ago

Note

Your DR magic AU, hand it over 🤲

Okay I have two other anons and I’m just gonna split the character ideas among the three asks. I don’t quite have a plot thought out, and most of these characters’ concepts have only existed in my head up until now...bare with me skdjksjfkd

Mm I talked about them briefly in Prom’s ask? But here’s a more in-depth thing of the THH fighting styles.

Makoto is a mage-type. (I used fighter, support, and mage to describe the various adventurer types it’s temporary just roll with it) Again, he can’t really hold magic for very long? He’s got a large mana reserve but it’s hard to activate and harder to control, so he’s currently working on mastering the little bullets. In the future, I imagine large barrages of bullets would sort of circle around him like they would in the barrel of a gun.

He probably got in accidentally? I’m not entirely sure about this, but I think there’s an entrance exam for Reserve Courses and he was probably forced in on Komaru’s behalf for some reason.

He was basically running the entire time until the very end when he panicked and suddenly the entire field was wiped clean from him waving his arm. HPA saw that, decided that he was worth training, and put him into the Main Course. He doesn’t feel very good about getting in that way, but HPA isn’t exactly empathetic like he is. Again this is like one of three ways I think he could’ve gotten in with the rest of the cast because I’m indecisive skdjsjf

Kyoko is another mage-type, in general the Main Gangs of each game have various themes. THH’s trio has a magic theme, they all use magic. She doesn’t use a weapon, though I’m thinking her gloves act as a limiter of sorts?

As a general rule, more mana means less control, and being half-demon gives her a lot of it. Her gloves help her regulate her mana output so that she doesn’t use too much of it when attacking and tire herself out. Later in the timeline, I imagine there might be a scene where she takes them off and fights off some enemies to buy the rest of the class time to escape something? She would get trapped in the process, but I think this would happen after she’s worked with Makoto for a while and she would trust him enough to believe he would come back for her if she didn’t return.

Oh this isn’t related to her fighting style but on the topic of her being half-demon, that’s mainly because I thought it was boring for everyone to be human and I’m a big sucker for fantasy species so yeah. She’s a cambion.

She has purple-tinted skin, horns that curl up and are fairly close to her head, a thin pointed tail, pointed ears, her pupils are slitted, she’s got carnivore-style teeth, her nails are longer and sharper by default. Whenever she uses the full extent of her magic, her scleras turn dark purple and her irises turn white. Oh yeah her scars came from an accident she had when she was young where her magic got out of control and burned her hands. Her mom’s the demon by the way, for no particular reason, I just thought that the Kirigiris would stay human in this and I don’t know anything about her mom’s side of the family.

I just realized I never said Makoto’s race skdjks he’s human!! He and Komaru just happen to be a special case and have a lot of mana. Most other humans in this AU aren’t so lucky. (cough hinata cough cough)

Byakuya, again, uses magic. He’s the only one who uses a weapon in the Trio, he uses a staff specially made by the Togami family. He also knows how to use a sword and a bow.

I haven’t put too much thought into him, but I know for a fact that his adventuring outfit would have a big sweeping cape later in the timeline. In the beginning though, he just has a stupid expensive suit. The cape comes in later as he, Kyoko, and Makoto start to group up more and more.

I’ve decided that adventurers in this AU group up just as often as they go solo, and while Byakuya would initially be solo, he would deem Makoto and Kyoko strong enough to work with whenever they’re taking on a difficult job.

Groups would change to have matching designs the longer they’re partnered up, and capes/cloaks happen to be the THH Trio’s Thing, as in all three of them would have a cape/cloak of some sort. Byakuya because he’s pretentious, Makoto because he thinks it looks cool, and Kyoko because she uses the cloak for practical reasons like storing things and keeping a low profile when needed. Oh and Byakuya’s bloodline is of royal elven descent, their business is selling spellbooks, runestones, potions, reagents, any magical item you could think of.

Sayaka is a half-siren mage! She mostly uses charm and illusionary magic, as well as healing so that she can support her allies. Later on, she might learn water magic so she can actually deal damage as well. I haven’t decided on her weapon of choice, perhaps she uses a lyre or casts spells from a book. I’m also debating having her learn hand-to-hand combat instead of water magic?

I just like the idea of someone coming up and trying to challenge her, thinking they’ll beat her easily, and barely getting a hit in before she kicks their legs out from under them and tosses them over her shoulder like they weigh nothing. She deserves to take out people twice her size and be menacing, as a treat for the amount of disrespect she gets in the fandom. And I want her to take Leon down a peg because he definitely acts a little like a cocky frat boy sometimes.

Speaking of Leon, we’ve got our first fighter-type!!! I could have him use a baseball bat but that’s boring so I’m thinking he might utilize items as well as a weapon? Bombs or grenades that look like a baseball and explode on impact, baseballs that ignite when thrown and act as fire balls. Alas, I don’t think about him much so this is all just me throwing ideas to see what sticks.

Whatever the case, the main thing I know would happen is that he frequently gets help from Kazuichi and Miu because he just cannot for the life of him stop breaking his equipment. He’s reckless and rushes into battle and now that he doesn’t have Kanon to stop him from setting stuff on fire all the time, he gets detention a lot. (And no she isn’t into him like in canon, I refuse to acknowledge that she ever was.)

Chihiro......they can’t fight djfjsjfjjf. They specialize in making tech and weapons, and in the beginning, would mainly use robots that they programmed to support their allies. Though, they do end up training with Mondo, Sakura, and Aoi to help them become better at combat, and eventually they join everyone else on the front lines as a ranged fighter/support type.

Also, the robots would kinda follow them around like pets. Cute little guys that can also shoot lasers. The robots are powered by mana crystals and each one has a different personality and magic type! Sometimes they follow around different people, the electric one took a liking to Mondo and you’ll see it floating around while he works out. They’re buds.

On the topic of Mondo, he’s another fighter-type! He’s more hand-to-hand combat. A controlled berserker, if you will. Probably started out fighting guys in his hometown and progressed to clearing out monsters when Daiya got concerned about his temper? Perhaps. Maybe. I do not think about Daiya I apologize.

Oh wait hold on. I’m looking at his character art and he’s got a hammer.........it’s decided he uses a warhammer, the biggest one they’ve got, and it’s probably a mana-based weapon. Specifically electric. He and that lil robot wipe the battlefield with their opponents >:D

Taka is probably a fighter-type? I can’t for the life of me find where I read this, but apparently he’s really good at self-defense so I imagine he does hand-to-hand combat as well as sword-fighting for the Noble Paladin Aesthetic.

Hifumi was originally a mage-type, but upon second thought, I’m making him a support-type who uses items and potions and stuff! I like the idea of him making fun little bottles and potions themed after his favorite animes and mangas..........he also definitely helped everyone design their adventurer outfits. He’s the only reason that Makoto’s outfit isn’t boring as hell.

Celeste is, of course, a mage-type. She’s Miss Lolita of course I have to make her an ethereal magic user alright also I love her and I love mages let me have this skfjdkjf. As for her weapon, my first thought was her having playing cards that she throws HxH style?

Or she could summon goons to fight for her, playing into the whole loyal servant dream she has. They would be vaguely themed after the cards, so there would be a jack, king, queen, and joker, all of different magic types depending on the suit of the card she throws. Electric for a spade, fire for a heart, ice for a diamond, something along those lines.

I’m also considering having her little...finger armor thing? I’m thinking of having that cross into her magic, where she attacks with claw-like things formed out of mana. Of course she could also just. Use the cards to cast spells directly skdjksjfkhf

Sakura is definitely a fighter-type. Again, hand-to-hand style, but I imagine she’s more controlled and strategic than Mondo. I can’t see her using a weapon, so I guess she’s like one of the only characters to fight exclusively with fists.

Mukuro’s a ranged fighter-type, but she can also do melee. She uses magic-based guns, ones that shoot mana infused bullets. They have a variety of effects depending on the type of bullet and magic. (I’m not a gun person so take this with a grain of salt.)

Bullets that break apart might be laced with electric magic so that they can shock a target from several points, or fire magic if she’s aiming to start a fire quickly. Exploding bullets are usually used with fire magic, but she might switch to ice if she wants to create a barrage of ice shards for...some reason, I don’t know. There’s more combinations I could probably make, but I’m. Not here to spend an hour researching guns. Not right now at least, who knows what I’ll want info on in the future.

Mmmmmm I’m starting to lose patience here so forgive me for the shorter explanations. I might throw in a fun fact about them for �� flavor ✨

Junko’s a fighter/mage-type! She uses a scythe and laces the blade with magic. She could combine it with fire magic to create a flaming scythe and go nuts with it, or she could just channel general mana and slam the blade into the ground to create a big crack in the ground.

There’s about an 80% chance she gets several weapons later in the timeline. Her scythe, a spear, possibly a gun. Monokuma probably exists, I like to think Junko ran into a smarter monster and tamed it and kept it as a slightly feral pet.

Also, yes, she’s still a big adrenaline junkie who gets off on despair. If you see her fighting things she knows are out of her league, mind your business.....actually, call someone to help before she gets herself killed. Please.

I haven’t decided what Aoi will be just yet? I’m veering towards fighter/mage-type, she could use water magic and maybe a leg-based fighting style. Possibly judo or taekwondo. I.....do not have any ideas for her. However I do know that she and Sakura would have a bunch of combo moves together dkfjkejfkdjjd

Toko is a mage-type! She probably uses a book to cast spells from. Or just uses her hands. She would fight ranged, I don’t think she’d want to be up in the action. Too much stress for her, y’know? I

As for Syo, she fight differently than Toko! She technically uses dual swords, but the swords can also connect to create a giant pair of scissors. Again, this is just sort of a fun character thing, but she gets to hate Byakuya in this AU. They have arguments and get on each other’s nerves a lot, but I think the rest of the class usually separates them before anything serious happens.

At some point after Toko befriends Komaru, I like to think that Syo gets a proper fight scene with Byakuya where she rips into him. I don’t think Toko would want to hurt anyone though, even him, so Syo would probably leave him with a few minor cuts at most.

Afterwards, I think Byakuya would quiet down with the insults with Naegi and Kyoko’s requests. (Well. Naegi asked him to try and be nicer because he was worried that they might fight again. Kyoko just bluntly told him that he needed to stop being a jerk and start considering everyone else’s feelings.)

Skfksjfkdh ah. I also like to think Komaru and Toko were initially partnered up by HPA for a job. They were assigned to deal with a couple of school kids wreaking havoc on a nearby city with some monsters they semi-tamed?

But after finishing the job, they decided to partner up permanently on their own. They probably have a few combo moves that Komaru came up with, Toko tweaked them to make them actually possible with their skill set and weapons.

Hiro is...possibly a mage/support-type? He’s probably a bit cowardly and freaks out when on the front lines, but he can use a crystal ball to attack from afar. I’m also considering giving him tarot cards so that he can toss them and attack from several points at once?

Or the ball could shatter at some point during the story and he could just roll with it and spread the shards out during battle to attack from several points at once. They could also be used to create a magic cage of sorts, like electric fence but only electricity.

Okay that’s everybody oh my god. I have plenty more stuff about this au, this isn’t even half of it trust me lmao. I’m sorry about this being so long I didn’t realize it’d be this wordy!!!!!

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bush-viper-cutie · 4 years ago

Text

“The Final Match” || YEAR 3 – Ch.32 (HP au)

Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 12/1/2020

Word count: 4, 201

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

Hello! Sorry I didn’t post for a few weeks! I needed to take a break and deal with some mental health stuff but I feel much better :D I hope everyone’s been ok! Also I will be going back to the normal twice a week schedule so yay :D enjoy the chapter!

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Easter break had been the most tiring holiday Heather had ever experienced. Practice twice a day, essay after essay, having to pay attention to Ron and Harry and not seem exhausted by their presence, and even help Neville avoid a nervous collapse. As absolutely worn out as Heather felt, it was nothing compared to Hermione.

Mid break she had stopped responding to them all together, focusing only on her essays and studying. She was so off her usual self she didn’t even want them wandering around the library when they needed to look up books. ‘I need to stretch my legs anyways,’ she claimed and would go fetch whatever book they needed so long as they stayed put.

Hermione was so stressed she was constantly on the verge of tears, especially after coming back empty handed, unable to find the book Ron wanted.

“It’s alright, Hermione, Really.” Ron looked around uncomfortably. “I’ll just… read Harry’s book upside down. I’ve gotten good after three years of potions exams.”

While Hermione studied and during any time either Harry or Heather was at Quidditch practice, Ron read and gathered as much as he could for Buckbeak’s appeal. He took out books like ‘Fowl or Foul? A Study on Hippogriff Brutality’ and ‘The Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology’ and was so engrossed in it that Heather wondered why he didn’t put that much energy and effort into their normal essays. Ron seemed as hardworking as Hermione in those instances, except he was much more willing to call it quits when he’d had enough.

By the end of the Holidays, several of the Slytherins had done exactly what Marcus had told them to do and gone out and earned points any ways they could. Slytherin was ahead of Gryffindor for the House Cup by two-hundred points. Now if Gryffindor won the match, they’d either tie bare minimum or would have to work as hard as possible to earn over fifty points to beat Slytherin in the House Cup.

The Quidditch Cup however, was much more difficult. Marcus had sat the whole team down in the locker rooms and explained how tricky this match would be with Harry’s advantage. If no one scored any points at all and Harry caught the snitch within seconds, then Slytherin would lose the match but tie with Gryffindor and no one would earn the Quidditch Cup.

“So Bletchley, don’t let them score at ANY cost.” Marcus turned his intense eyes on Heather and Graham. “Potter, Montague. We’re plan b. By the end of the match we NEED to have scored at least one-hundred-and-fifty points to stay in the lead for House Cup. We’ll each aim for five scores each.”

Heather nodded and looked at Draco who was leaning against the lockers, sulking. All break long he’d tasked Crabbe and Goyle with getting into a fight with Harry but they hadn’t succeeded yet. Harry was constantly surrounded by his Quidditch team as often as possible ever since he’d told Wood what she had said.

“’Cept we won’t need that when I catch the Snitch.” Draco crossed his arms.

Marcus nodded. “Potter won’t be attempting to catch the Snitch until the Gryffindors have earned enough points if they’re smart. All you’ll have to do is catch it before he does – and I’ve no doubt he’ll do his best to stop you, though the Gryffindors aren’t the physical type so that’ll be easy.”

Draco kept his brows furrowed and glared at the nearest bench. There was more than just the Cups riding on this match. Heather knew Draco was still upset over the mud-throwing incident and Harry was even more furious with him after the fact of Buckbeak’s trial. Their rivalry was at its peak for the year, and it had even bled into her and Draco’s friendship.

It was weird to call it a friendship, considering she was supposed to hate him but there were the odd conversations with him that she enjoyed, and he never left her out like Pansy did, glad to talk to her about himself and how great his family is all the time. Now that he felt he was losing to Harry though, he could hardly look at her for very long without scowling at her. She was a Potter after all.

As the week went on, all Professors seemed to be assigning less and less homework on account of the match Saturday. It seemed like the whole school was anticipating the match and Slytherins and Gryffindors most of all. Scuffles broke out in the corridors, hexes and jinx were thrown during breakfast and lunch, and all the Gryffindors gathered around Harry constantly to keep him safe while all the Slytherins seemed to want to be tripping and elbowing him.

It was Friday night and Heather paced the dungeon corridors trying to keep her anxiety under control. She braided and re-braided her hair as she walked, holding her breath, counting to five, and letting it out. Five goals. That was all she needed to score. Just five. It seemed like a lot suddenly. All of Slytherin would be angry and Marcus would be furious if she didn’t do her part.

She headed back to the common room and sat on a cushion by the door and observed everyone talking about the match tomorrow. Marcus, Miles, and Graham were talking to a few girls and on the other side of the room Peregrine and Lucian were smacking hexed curtain puffs they’d ripped out. Draco was of course surrounded by his usual crowd by his favorite desk. Pansy was talking on and on to the group of third years but Draco just sat there, shaking his leg.

The common room door opened and she looked up to see it was Snape. He stepped inside and closed the door. He was searching the room and quickly spotted Marcus. “Flint.” His voice was low and yet everyone in the room seemed to recognize it immediately. Everyone hushed and turned to look at their Head of House. “I suggest you get your team to bed at once. I don’t intend on giving up the Quidditch Cup over a bunch of drowsy brats with no sense for time.” It seemed even Snape could sense how difficult the match would be.

Heather could smell the tangy scent of pickled tree oysters coming off his black trousers and the unmistakable smell of the penetratingly sweet base liquid used for almost all potions they brewed. She stayed seated in her spot as her team gathered their things and went into the dormitories. She wasn’t ready to go to bed with her anxious thoughts, and certainly not by Snape’s command.

She pulled her legs up to her chest and cursed to herself. Her movement had caught Snape’s attention out of the corner of his eyes. He glared down at her but she refused to look into his cold black eyes. She could feel her hair stand on end and finally gave in, standing up and marching to the girl’s dormitory, slamming the door hard before huffing and marching to her dorm.

She changed and fell back on her pillow, wishing she could have stayed downstairs and just ignored Snape. It would’ve been at least a small victory for her against him. Her eyelids began to close and she let them. If she were Harry, she’d just make potions incredibly annoying for him to get him back for bad mouthing her father. She could ask about the difference between Horn of Plenty and Trumpet of the Dead and whether they were less or more reactive than Black Chanterelle – which are of course all the same mushroom which would annoy him extra.

She fell asleep thinking about making her toad even more mossy on purpose next lesson instead of finally de-mossifying him and woke from a dream about replacing all of Snape’s Bladder Campions in jars with actual tiny bladders. Heather sat up and looked at the clock, seeing it was the perfect time to get up and shower before heading down for breakfast.

She got dressed in her Quidditch robes and headed out of the common room towards the Great Hall.

“Heather!”

Heather turned around and searched for Harry as he whispered her name again. She spotted his red robes hiding behind a column and walked down to him.

“Harry? What is it?”

He crossed his arms and bit his finger. He shook his head and sighed. “Alright. I know it’ll sound crazy… I think I saw Crookshanks walking with the Grim last night.”

Heather frowned.

“Listen!” Harry looked around and sighed again. “I woke up from a nightmare about the match and got up to get some water and I looked out the window and saw Crookshanks followed by the Grim and he was leading the Grim around the side of the castle!”

Heather tilted her head. “So… Hermione’s cat is friends with your Grim? Harry, the Grim isn’t an actual animal. It’s a sign. I saw the Grim in the clouds and Professor Trelawney sees it in leaves and mist and floating dust clumps… Are you sure you really saw it?”

Harry rubbed his neck and shook his head. “I tried getting Ron to see it too but he fell back asleep too fast.”

Heather placed her hand on Harry’s shoulder. “It’s just the match nerves. Or maybe you know deep down Slytherin’s going to win,” she teased.

“You wish.” Harry smiled and pushed away from the wall, stepping out from the column. “Maybe it was just a dog or something from Hogsmeade.”

Wood came out from the Great Hall and called Harry down to him.

“Good luck,” Harry said and quickly punched her arm before jogging over to Wood.

Harry entered the Great Hall to enormous applause, leaving her standing alone in the empty Entrance Hall. She really hoped she was right about it not being the Grim. She took a deep breath and entered after him.

She could see three out of the four tables were wearing as much red as possible. Hufflepuffs had on red hats and small twirling red signs while Ravenclaws held scarfs in their hands ready to swing in the air. Gryffindors were all wearing red shirts, red sweaters, red trousers, red socks, and red hair clips – it was a sea of red that looked to bleed onto the other tables.

She sat at the center of her Slytherin table with the team and picked up some toast and a few small links of sausage. Was she hungry? Was she starving? It felt like the butterflies in her stomach turned to rocks every so often. It was the hardest meal she’d ever had, having to watch the stone cold face of her captain as he glared at the rest of the school behind her, and even Draco looked sickly pale next to him.

Heather kicked Draco under the table making him jump. “We’re going to win and you’re going to catch the Snitch, alright? Harry’s not even going to try until they earn enough points and Bletchley won’t let them score any. You’ll have enough time.”

Draco nodded and took a bite of his toast, getting jam on the corners of his mouth. “I’m catching the Snitch first thing.” He nodded again as if cementing the idea in his head.

Heather relaxed a bit after some color returned to Draco’s face. The cheering had gotten too loud to ignore now and Pansy started cheering for the team, looking around at others and glaring at them until they joined in with her. Soon the Slytherin tables were thumping their fists on the table, filling the air with bangs and the slight clatter of metal forks bouncing off glass plates. It did a good job of drowning out the cheers for Gryffindor.

It was time for both teams to head out and Heather stood with her team and walked down, high fiving every stuck out hand from the Slytherin tables. She looked left and saw the Gryffindors were doing the same. Harry was walking down the other side of the Gryffindor table closest to the Ravenclaws when he stopped momentarily next to the Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho Chang, and went red. As they left the Great Hall Heather tried catching Harry’s eyes but it was no use, Wood was talking his ear off.

Heather grabbed her broom with Draco and they both entered the locker rooms, ready for whatever talk Marcus had in store for them.

Marcus paced the small space between the walls and stopped as they joined the rest of the team. “Win,” he said firmly. “Just win. By any means.”

“And just like that our nerves are gone,” Miles scoffed.

Marcus pulled him up by the collar and shook him. “What nerves? We’re Slytherins. We’ve been winning the Quidditch Cup for almost a decade. And no Potter will ruin that.”

Heather swallowed, feeling like he was also kind of talking about her.

Draco lifted his broom handle towards the team and yelled “No Potter can ruin that!”

The team smacked their broom handles against Draco’s and Heather had no choice but to join. She supposed she could consider this motivational somehow?

Marcus led them out onto the field where they took their spots. The whole school was cheering and making noise on the stands and although there were waves and waves of red, the Slytherins did their best to cover as much space with deep green and bright silver. In the front row behind the Slytherin goal post sat Snape wearing green like everyone else around him. He had on a grim smile and looked to Professor McGonagall who laughed and gestured to the stands of students waving ‘LIONS FOR THE CUP’ and ‘GO GRYFFINDOR’ flags.

“ON THE GRYFFINDOR TEAM,” Lee Jordan started his commentating, “WE HAVE POTTER, BELL, JOHNSON, SPINNET, WEASLEY, WEASLEY, AND WOOD – THE BEST TEAM CAPTAIN ON THE BEST HOGWARTS QUIDDITCH TEAM WE’VE SEEN IN A GOOD FEW YEARS – ”

His comments were drowned out by ‘boos’ from the Slytherins sitting not too far from him.

“AND ON THE SLYTHERIN TEAM IS CAPTAIN FLINT AND IT SEEMS HIS MAIN STRATEGY THIS YEAR WAS MAKING SURE THERE WAS MORE SIZE THAN SKILL ON THE TEAM – ”

Even Heather booed with the Slytherins at that. She and Draco were the smallest on the team for certain, but at least Graham and Miles had some skill too, even if they were enormous. Marcus, Lucian, and Peregrine however, they could do with less aggressive plays.

“BY SIZE THERE IS ALSO MONTAGUE, BOLE, DERRICK, BLETCHLEY, POTTER, AND MALFOY.”

Heather looked over at Draco to see him close his mouth and hide his look of shock. He glanced at her briefly and scowled, making her hold in a laugh.

The morning was fairly bright and there were no winds at all, making it perfect conditions for an intense final match. The Gryffindors mirrored their positions on the other side of the half-line and she gave Harry a tiny thumbs up which he matched for a split second. Madam Hooch came out with the ball-chest under her arm and set it down, ready to unlock on her whistle.

Heather gripped her broom hard, feeling her palms already sweaty and kicked off hard at the loud shrill of the whistle blow. Fourteen brooms rose in the air and darted into positions as Marcus and Wood fought for the Quaffle.

“GRYFFINDOR IN POSSESSION – QUAFFLE TAKEN BY SPINNET HEADING STRAIGHT FOR THE SLYTHERIN GOALPOSTS – LOOKING GOOD ALICIA! ARGH! NO – QUAFFLE INTERCEPTED BY MONTAGUE AS HE TEARS UP THE FIELD AND – WHAM! GOOD ARM THERE GEORGE. QUAFFLE CAUGHT BY JOHNSON AS SHE TAKES IT ALL THE WAY BACK – SWERVES AROUND POTTER – DUCK! OHH – OH! SHE SCORES!”

The Gryffindor fans filled the field with whistles and cheers as they waved red flags and scarfs in the air. Miles avoided looking towards Marcus but Heather gave him a thumbs up, he nodded his head as the Quaffle was recovered.

Heather gasped as Marcus smashed into Angelina Johnson, nearly knocking her off her broom.

“Didn’t see her!” Marcus yelled to the booing crowd of scarlet below. “Sorry!”

Heather rolled her eyes at him and gasped again as Fred’s Beater’s club flew through the air and smacked Marcus on the back of his head, making him smash his nose on his broom handle causing a nose bleed.

Madam Hooch flew up between them and blew her whistle. “Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to THEIR Chaser!” Before they could argue Madam Hooch blew her whistle again and Johnson flew forward to take penalty, eyeing Marcus with immense loathing.

“JOHNSON TAKES THE SHOT AND – SCORE! SHE’S BEATEN THE KEEPER YET AGAIN. TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR, FIRST TWO POINTS MADE BY ANGELINA JOHNSON.”

Marcus flew forward with the Quaffle under his arm and aimed at the Gryffindor goalposts where Wood sat ready on his broom.

“FLINT TAKES THE SHOT AND – WOOD’S SAVED IT! HE’S SAVED IT! THAT’S STILL TWENTY-ZERO WITH THE BEST HOGWARTS TEAM STILL IN THE LEAD!”

Heather groaned and felt the little butterflies in her stomach all drop dead and turn to boulders. The Gryffindors were much closer to getting the necessary points they needed to win both cups and allow for Harry to catch the Snitch. Draco flew by quickly, desperately searching for the Snitch as Harry trailed him meters behind – a distance afforded to him by the firebolt.

Heather nodded at Marcus and took her position again as the Quaffle was recovered and put back into play.

“GRYFFINDOR IN POSSESSION – NO – SLYTHERIN IN – NO BACK IN GRYFFINDOR POSSESSION AND ITS WITH BELL AS SHE STREAKS UP THE FIELD – THAT WAS DELIBERATE!”

Graham had swooped down and grabbed hold of Katie Bell’s head instead of the Quaffle, making her drop it in an attempt to dislodge her head from under his arm.

Madam Hooch flew back up and yelled at him before awarding Gryffindor another penalty which Katie gladly took.

“THIRTY-ZERO! THAT’S RIGHT, KEEP CHEATING YOU DIRTY – ”

“MR. JORDAN, IF YOU CAN’T COMMENTATE AS UNBIASED AS POSSIBLE – ”

“JUST SAYIN’ IT HOW IT IS PROFESSOR – ”

While the game was stalled on Lee Jordan and Professor McGonagall’s arguments, Heather flew over to Marcus and Graham. “Drop the whole ‘win by any means’! We’re losing! Stick to the plays!”

Marcus glared at her but nodded. “We’ll take those points back. Stick to the plays.”

Graham nodded and they split up, taking their positions around Marcus like they normally did. The game was back on and as they wrestled with Gryffindor for the possession of the Quaffle, Heather spotted Derrick and Bole closing in on a speeding Harry just as he pulled up out of the way and they collided against each other.

“HA HA! SOMEONE GET DERRICK AND BOLE AN ICE PACK, THEY SEEM TO HAVE FORGOTTEN WHY THE FIREBOLT’S THE BEST BROOM ON THE MARKET!”

Graham had barely grazed the Quaffle when Johnson intercepted.

“GRYFFINDOR IN POSSESSION – MONTAGUE FLYING ALONSIDE JOHNSON – MONTAGUE IN POSSESSION! OH NO FLYING TOWARDS THE GRYFFINDOR GOALPOSTS – BELL AND SPINNET CLOSING IN ON HIM! – FLINT IN POSSESSION NOW – NO STOP IT WOOD! – ARGH! SLYTHERIN SCORES.”

The Slytherins behind the Slytherin goalposts erupted with cheers. Lee Jordan swore and Professor McGonagall tried tugging the magical megaphone away.

“SORRY! WON’T HAPPEN AGAIN! – THIRTY-TEN, GRYFFINDOR STILL IN THE LEAD BUT SLYTHERIN HAS POSSESSION AGAIN – ”

The tide was turning now that they were more focused on plays and not cheating. Heather followed close beneath Flint and on cue caught his dropped Quaffle and scored the second points for Slytherin. Wood pounded on his handle and the Slytherins cheered again.

“THIRTY-TWENTY, COME ON GRYFFINDORS DON’T LET THEM CATCH UP!”

Four of five goals down, she just needed five goals total to reach her own goal. That was the plan. She zoomed forward and cut off Spinnet, sending her diving down to avoid collision, freeing up space for Marcus to throw to Graham. Graham shot forward with the Quaffle in hot pursuit by Bell and Johnson and just as he aimed to throw into the goalposts, Bell snatched it from his hand and made her way across the field. Gryffindor scored freely for the last time that match.

It was forty-twenty and now even Heather felt the same angry fire behind Marcus and Graham’s eyes. Marcus scored, and then Graham, and just after Heather had rammed into Johnson to stop her from cutting between Marcus’s throw, Heather caught the Quaffle and scored for Slytherin once again.

Forty-fifty and Slytherins were in the lead now. Bell was on Heather’s tail from then on as she shadowed Marcus to his right. A Bludger nearly knocked him off his broom but Graham saved it and scored again. Fred and George were now focusing their efforts on Marcus as Lucian and Peregrine aimed for them.

Heather looped on her broom to lose Bell momentarily to help pass the Quaffle to Graham again as Marcus dodged two Bludgers, and he scored again. On and on it went cleanly until the score was forty to one-hundred and Heather had scored her five goals. Then Lucian hit Alicia Spinnet with his club, stopping her from taking possession and George elbowed him in the face.

Madam Hooch gave each team a penalty shot and Miles finally blocked it. Wood didn’t let Marcus score. Bell attempted to score and while Fred and George were distracted trying to help block Graham and Heather from closing in on her, Peregrine and Lucian aimed the Bludgers at Wood, giving Gryffindor two more penalty shots. Miles saved one and the score became fifty to one-hundred. Wood climbed back over his broom and clutched his stomach.

Slytherin quickly took the points back. Heather scored twice more after Flint scored twice and Graham scored once.

“SLYTHERIN IS AT A HUNDRED POINT LEAD… WHERE’S THAT SNITCH!”

The game was dragging on and Harry and Draco were now searching the skies and ground for the Snitch. Draco kept on Harry’s tail as best he could as they circled the Quiditch pitch once, twice – Harry dashed forward and reached out for the golden speck twenty feet in front.

Draco sped after him, managing to cut the distance on a quick turn as the Snitch flew away from them. Harry had the Snitch inches from his fingers when Draco jumped forward and caught the tail of Harry’s broom in his hands, dragging him back.

Harry swung a fist at Draco’s face but couldn’t reach. Harry turned back and slowed, realizing the Snitch had disappeared from view.

“CHEATER! CHEATING! YOU FILTHY CHEATING SLYTHERIN – !” Lee was dancing out of McGonagall’s grasp.

“Penalty!” Madam Hooch yelled.

Spinnet took the shot and was blocked by Miles who was still laughing at Draco’s penalty. Heather felt her team was newly invigorated by Draco’s desperate ‘by any means’ tactics.

The game was back on and Johnson had the Quaffle. Heather and the other Chasers flew after her, closing in at once when Harry cut through them like a red bullet, making them all scatter to avoid falling off their brooms and allowing her to score.

“Harry!” Heather yelled and quickly noticed Draco across the field streaking up towards a tiny shiny speck.

Harry noticed and tore after Draco, closing the field-wide distance within seconds. Heather watched, frozen in place, as Draco closed in on the Snitch. Marcus took this chance to score once more as everyone’s attention was on the Seekers.

Draco’s fingers were stretched, arm fully extended as he leaned forward on his broom. His blond hair whipping back as he cut through the air.

Harry had reached Draco and was now urging his broom to go faster as he stretched out his arm towards the Snitch.

They were both inches away from it, closing in – Harry threw himself forward, knocking Draco’s arm out of the way and caught the Snitch in one cupped swoop of his hand.

“HARRY POTTER’S CAUGHT THE SNITCH! THAT’S TWO-HUNDRED POINTS TO ONE-HUNDRED-AND-SIXTY! GRYFFINDOR WINS!”

The crowd erupted with cheers and the field below filled with red and gold as everyone touched down. Heather walked up to Marcus who was fuming but surprisingly remained calm. He clenched his fist and looked at all of them as they gathered around him quietly.

“We won the cup. That’s all that matters. They needed at least a fifty-point lead before Potter caught the Snitch.” Marcus looked at Draco and nodded. “Good try, Malfoy.”

Draco looked like he could murder anyone who looked at him the wrong way. He nodded and headed towards the broom shed, shoving and pushing any and all Gryffindors in his way.

The Gryffindor crowd was lifting Harry on their shoulders, satisfied with the win and victory over Slytherins and Draco. Heather trailed behind the crowd not wanting to bump into Ron or Hermione. Although the cup was still and would remain in the safety of Snape’s office, the loss against Gryffindor was felt among all Slytherins.

Draco almost had it, inches away, seconds away, but was doomed to lose against Harry’s firebolt.

Was everyone doomed to lose against Harry?

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 5 years ago

Text

I don’t care

summarry: a reddie x daughter where the losers are over and the daughter comes home from school with a minor injury and they later found out she was bullied. so they give her tips and maybe even fighting lessons lol

A/N: this was requested by anon I hope you enjoy!

warnings: homophobia as reason for the bullying

Water sloshes over the sides as Richie dives headfirst into the pool. It drenches Stan’s trousers, who shoots a murderous look towards Richie resurfacing with a deep breath.

‘Refreshing’, he comments, shaking a full body shiver at the change of temperature. Chloe watches from afar, disposing her bookbag on the grass with a loud clutter. Weekend arrives and she’s eager to start the plans scheduled. On Friday a pool party, on Saturday a trip on uncle Ben’s boat, and for the last day they’re going to see Richie perform live on stage.

All the losers promised they’d make it, and they did, it’s been a while since the group has reunited, work and personal issue getting in the way, but none of that matters. Sometimes Chloe thinks there’s no way they won’t get mad at one another when someone cancels yet again, but then the rejoins puts her at ease. They care for each other more than enough to stop a small, unimportant thing from ruining it. Most scattered around the pool, like uncle Stan and Chloe’s pops in the water, but her dad and uncle Bill stood a far end away from water range, a smart decision Stan begrudgingly had to admit.

'The prodicale child has returned, Richie enthusiastically announced, waving his arms back and forth. ‘Mini me is back.’

The losers greet her, warm smiles and gentle hands pulling her in a hug. Bill’s positively buzzed, the butt of many jokes at his expense of how much of a lightweight the man really is. The first try to capture Chloe in an embrace goes haywire, and if it wasn’t for Mike supporting his weight, he would have fallen face first.

It sends the rest of the groups in hysterics, not including Bill, blushing red tainted cheeks. ‘Already uncle Bill?’ Chloe goads, covering the underside of the drink in his hand in case he loosens his grip.

Waving of the concerns, Bill wobbles, aided by Mike, back to the sun chair to rest. Eddie motions a soda her way, wordlessly asking if she wants one.

‘Yeah, but I’m going to go change first.’

Her shirt is too tight for the humidity hanging in the air, and she longs for a swim, so she needs swimming attire in order to do that anyway.

----

‘Oh absolutely not’, Bev declares stiffly, her mouth set in a straight line and hands on her hips. ‘There’s no way any niece of mine is wearing that.’

Richie cackles, his head thrown back in amusement over Beverly’s reaction, following her gaze to his daughter, wearing a Hawaiian long-sleeved shirt over her bathing suit.

Chloe follows his laughter, doing a pirouette to show off her t-shirt. ‘I think it’s cool.’

‘You’re only saying that because Richie brainwashed you.’

‘I agree with Bev, one Richie fashion disaster is more than I can adequately handle,’ Stan concurred, heaving a sigh at Richie’s childish reaction of sticking out his tongue.

‘It’s not like she’s wearing it to school Beverly, and if my daughter sees me as a fashion icon, than I think we should respect that. Fuck knows she’s the smartest among us.’

A little cough draws his attention, and Stan does nothing to hide his intend.

‘Okay well Stan is up there.’

‘Please kid, I’m begging, don’t become a second Richie. Fight those parts of you that stem from him.’

‘Hey fucking excuse you, she’s my daughter too.’ Eddie heatedly adds, chopping his hand through the air to drive the point home.

‘who’s w-w-who’s d-d-daughter?’ A stutter the predominant tell that Bill is well on his way to being hammered.

‘Shut up Bill, you’re too drunk to participate in this conversation.’

Chloe giggles, knowing that the teasing remarks from her family are just that, teasing. She then finally steps closer towards the pool. The grass beneath her bare feet is strangely relaxing, the sensations of little pricks reminding her of summer days and ice creams.

‘Come her,’ aunt Bev beckons, her hand circling around the small indents of nails in Chloe’s underarm.

Without realization, she hisses in pain, retracting her hand and covering the sore spot with her remaining hand. The playful mood everyone participated in pops like a bubble.

Beverly blinks in shock, surprised by the reaction. The chatting in the pool ends abruptly, the remnants of an engaging conversation ebbing away.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah, just peachy.’ A bird flies overhead, chirping away, an excellent escape out of the conversation Chloe refuses the hold in front of everyone.

‘Uncle Stan, what kind of bird is that?’

Stan eyes her suspiciously, not uttering a word to help her, and Chloe glowers at him. Thanks for nothing.

‘Let me see please’, Eddie asks his cheeks blown out, worry etched across his face. At this point, Chloe is trapped. She can’t deny something is wrong, and she can’t withhold her arm because that would make everyone even more suspicious.

‘Fine,’ she grumbles, bunching the fabric of the long sleeved shirt to reveal indents of fingernails buried in her skin, not sever enough to be of any concern, but bad enough that it is visible.

‘Chloe,’ Eddie perturbs, his fingers hovering above the wounds while he mulls over what to do in his head. ‘What happened?’

In one smooth motions, Richie lifts himself out of the water and strides resolutely their way, blind without his glasses on but still thoughtfully studying the body-langue of both Eddie and Chloe. He stoops down to inspect the wounds himself, than straightens up and tries his best to stare straight in his daughter eyes, missing by half a mile.

‘Someone did that to you?’ The intentions makes it sound like a question, but it’s a statement, and one that is impossible to refute. Nail marks aren’t accidental.

‘Did you get these cleaned?’ Eddie frets, his left hand coercing her to move to the kitchen, where they keep an emergency kid. Richie has had one to many mishaps in there.

It’s a sure sign that Eddie is freaking out and building up to an anxiety attack, worrying and fretting over someone to release part of the stress before it bubbles over.

‘Dad’, Chloe mumbles miserably, planting her feet in the ground to resist any prodding. ‘It’s not that bad.’

‘Who did this angle cake?’

‘Just someone from school alright. It’s not a big deal.’

‘Honey, It is. No one is allowed to hurt you in any way,’ Bev argues, her chin jutting out, only calmed by Ben’s presence.

‘Is there anything we can do? T-t-talk to whoever did this? A teacher? Say the word and we’re on it.’ Bill’s positively sobered up thanks to the severity of the topic of conversation, he fumbled over his words only once.

‘Beat him or her up? I’m not afraid if it’s a girl, I’ll hit anyone who tries to put their hands on my baby.’

‘Yes and don’t listen to uncle Ben, he might say something fucking stupid like we’ll talk to whoever did this calmly.’

‘Yes, cause that’s the best option Richie-‘

‘It has nothing to do with me okay? And I doubt she even planned on physically hurting me. I tried to remove myself from the situation, and instead of letting me walk away, she tried to keep me in place by grabbing me. Hence the superficially’, Chloe aimed the word at her dad, ‘scratches.’

‘It obviously has something to do with you. Why else go after you?’ Stan probes. The way he talks and demands thing without having to raise his voice is fascinating, like he can bend anyone to do what he pleases without breaking a sweat.

‘Because’, Chloe pinched the bridge of nose, contemplating her chances of resolving the situation without admitting what it was all about, but between her protective fathers and the solicitous of the losers, she estimated her shots slim to none.

‘Because she believes homosexuality is wrong and that dad and pops are wrong for loving each other.’

Richie grimaces bitterly, slumping his shoulders and sneering at the words sinking in. ‘Like Bowers all over again’, he spits furiously, bailing his hands into fist. Next to him, Eddie is pensively staring at the wounds on Chloe’s hand, shame speed racing through his body for him and Richie being the reason this happened to their daughter.

‘Chlo, I’m so so sorry.’

‘No. Don’t you dare apologies. It doesn’t matter. Not to me anyway. She’s a bitch, and she’s wrong for her opinion, but I can’t make her see your relationship the way I see this. I can’t force her to open her mind and broaden her horizons, then I’ll be equally as bad. I love you guys, and I don’t care you’re gay. If other people do that’s their problem and not mine. I hid the comments as I knew they would hurt you, but we know better than them. I’m going to continue living my life open and excepting of everyone and everything and she will walk around angry and upset at everything in the world she considers unnatural. There’s no outcome in which she wins, except if we let her words bother us.’

With a gentle pull, Chloe buries herself under her dads chin, tucked away in safety as her pops caresses her hair and presses a kiss there.

‘I’m so proud of you.’ Eddie confesses, barely understandable with his voice cracking through the lump in his throat. ‘Don’t ever forget how much we love you.’

‘We’ll have to discus some precautions. Like a buddy system or some shit. Or maybe Mike can teach you some strength exercises.’ Richie ponders, thinking ahead on how to avoid a situation ever again occurring. ‘But yeah, we really couldn’t have a better daughter.’

#reddie #reddie x daughter #My writing #richie as a parent #eddie as a parent #richie as a dad #eddie as a dad #it chapter two imagine #the loser club imagines #richie x eddie

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