#I feel like with how Rita answers the door they can easily do it

[meganechan05]

What if I drew Kaguragi randomly dropping by Gokkan to mess with Rita, only to be beaten by Himeno who Rita has to hide because they were watching "Moffun to Issho" in their office?

[butterflies-and-bumble-bees]

Your prompt choices

The nice guy loves everyone but you

Or

True Hate's Kiss (only a kiss from an enemy can break the spell)

The nice guy loves everyone but you

You sat on the sidelines of the party, alone again, as everyone crowded around him. It was always him, everybody loved him, he was just the sweetest, kindest best person to all of them. They didn’t know the real him, not like you knew him. How could they, he was not their brother.  Finally having had enough of this, you got up to leave; not even the alcohol enough to keep you.  “Leaving so soon?” his voice stopped you where you stood. “Not my kind of party” you swiveled around to see that he had abandoned his flock of admirers to meet you.  Before he could answer, a girl came up to him, asking if he wanted to dance with her. You didn’t wait to hear his response.

A/N - I came up with this, characters, plot, dialogue, and all in like 15 min and I feel like it shows

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

True Hate's Kiss (only a kiss from an enemy can break the spell)

A truly exasperated sigh escaped Thalia as she finally found the scroll she had been searching for. Why was it when you finally found the answers they were never the ones you had been searching for in the first place. “There’s no easy way to tell you this…” regret colored her features as she met Rhiannan’s gaze, “the only way to break the curse is True Hate's Kiss ‒ a kiss from an enemy.” Rhiannan turned to look at Thalia more directly, wildly gesticulating. The mage knew that if she could speak, she would probably be saying something along the lines of “what do you MEAN A KISS FROM AN ENEMY” Finding an enemy of Rhiannan’s would be easy enough Thalia thought, though getting her a kiss from one would be another matter entirely… Rhia had slumped back against the back of her chair, defeated, staring at the ceiling. Across the room, Felicity hummedd thoughtfully before speaking “what kind of an enemy do they mean... ” “And what kind of a kiss?” Jane posited immediately after. “Could she play one of us in a game of chess and then kiss her?” Felicity finished her thought. “We should ask Rita” Jane again, “she’s the one who knows things about kissing.” Thalia took immediate offense at this, she was the one who knew everything about everything after all. Felicity reached across the table to place a reassuring hand atop Thalia's “I’m sure you’ve read plenty of romance novels, but Rita is the one who has done the most of… that sort of thing.”  Thalia pulled her hand out from under Felicity’s. Her friends were all grown adults. They should be beyond cooties and getting all blushy and flustered at the prospect of …intimacy.  And what did they know about what she did while they were all gallivanting about getting stuck in time loops and cursed with muteness. Yes, she did spend most of her time in the library doing research, and in the lab doing more research, and in the field, doing even more research, but that wasn’t the point.  “Do you think I’ve never kissed anyone before?” She stood up, bracing her hands firmly on the table as she loomed over Felicity.  The blonde immediately shied back, her eyes becoming wide and voice becoming small “no” “Have you then?” Jane was not so easily intimidated; in fact, Jane was one of the worst people in the room to try and pick a fight with.  Thalia sighed and backed down, her need for privacy outweighing her need to be right all the time. She knew how to pick her battles, and Jane was not an opponent she would spar willingly.  Rhia slammed her hands on the table pushing her chair backwards and getting up, before another spat could break out. She marched resolutely to the door, in hot pursuit of Rita, wherever she was. Felicity slipped silently out of her chair as well, following like a shadow. Jane waited a moment longer before relenting, breaking eye contact with Thalia, and following the others. Thalia rolled her eyes, returning her book to the shelf before completing the quartet. 

A/N - this was me playing with a bunch of my fae OCs who I am very normal about:

Thalia: a mage who studies magic and the science of magic' huge nerd, photographic memory, very OCD (but like real OCD cause her author has ocd and actually knows what it's like)

Jane: stubborn - she digs her heals in like she's a miner at the California gold rush; very down to earth, speaks in a southern accent that might be fake, has plant, rock, and dirt magical abilities.

Felicity, dryad/forest spirit, basically a Disney princess; can talk to animals, always carries a piece of her tree/forest with her in a locket - if she loses it she loses her powers, completely changes in appearance based off of her emotions sometimes

Rhiannan: impulsive, can fly (both with her own wings and in an airplane/helecopter), a bit of a loose cannon, does stunt driving in movies/tv cause she loves crashing vehicles.

I feel kinda bad that I couldn't find a way to have the curse actually broken in a timely manner. I might come back to this later and just write until I can reach a more final conclusion organically. I'll post and tag you if I finish it

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Hi! I was wondering if you had any thoughts on what Tom Riddle’s animagus form would be, if he bothered to learn the transformation. I think it’s weird that according to canon he never did? I can’t imagine he’d see or learn about this difficult form of advanced magic, with a million different uses depending on the animal and go, ‘nah I’m good.’ And then just never try??? Especially with somewhere private like the chamber of secrets to practice?

I can't believe I haven't answered this.

This feels like an ask I surely must have gotten before and yet it appears to not be there. I am shook.

Well, let's answer your second question first.

Why Didn't He Become an Animagus/Animagus is a Useless Ability

First, why do other characters we see in the series become animagi? The Marauders do it initially to stay with Remus during the full moon. Later, Peter and Sirius at least take advantage of it to hide from the authorities. Rita Skeeter either did it for funsies and in the aftermath found out it could really help her career, or else was banking on her form being something relatively easy to overlook. Wouldn't have served Rita well if she'd been a horse trying to hide in a pub behind the counter. McGonagall uses it to be a spy for the Order but we don't know why she did it whenever she did it.

Second, what can one do exactly?

Alright, you become an animal. You now have no thumbs and likely cannot open a door. You can't hold your wand. Legally, you have to register with the ministry so basically... you're a cool party trick. Whoop de fucking doo, you can turn into a goat after months of preparation.

The only legitimate use for it is disguising yourself from those who would search for you, espionage, or else if you happen to have a werewolf friend who happens to be going to a school before Wolfsbane happened to be invented.

And all of that's if you get lucky with your form. You have no control over what it will be, which makes it a bit of a gamble to spend all this time learning it when you may not even be able to use it.

What if you're a dolphin? Now you can't transform in anything but the right temperature salt water.

What I'm saying is that while it's a neat party trick, it's not actually in any way useful.

Back to Tom

Could be he is an animagus but he got an entirely useless form like a dolphin. Wasted months learning how to do it and he's a fucking dolphin.

"Well, that was a great waste of my time," he announces.

That said, all of the above could be why Tom would never pursue it. He has no guarantees what he will become is in any way useful, he also needs a certain amount of ah prestige associated with his animal or else risk being a laughing stock, and he doesn't go out and spy himself.

It's a lot of work for not much use, and I can see him easily going "eh" and devoting himself to what he considers more important.

BUT WHAT WOULD HIS FORM BE?!

My personal thoughts?

A cat.

Cats are intelligent, curious, bizarre, killing machines who end up in both the oddest situations and deciding to do things just to see what shit they can fuck up.

A vase is on a counter? That vase is going to the floor.

There's a box that looks too small to escape from. THE CAT'S GOING IN!

A cat doesn't like you for no particular reason? Yeah, get used to that.

I can't not imagine Tom sitting on a counter, pushing off all the vases, just because you said "no".

[ffxiv-swarm]

prompt 24: bar

They have two weeks of blissful silence before the first conjurer shows up at the Mriiha General Store one bright morning. Not at the store entrance, oh no, but at the door that leads into their actual home. He’s wearing a white-and-beige robe and a falsely pleasant smile, and Rrisya wants to carve it off his face.

The smile doesn’t waver as he looks down at her. “Miss...Otombe, is it?”

He has the nerve to try to step past the threshold. Rrisya bars the door with her body, tail lashing once before she stops herself. They’re in public and it’s broad daylight, so he’s unlikely to get violent—but by the same token, she can’t be seen escalating the situation. Gods, she wishes Rita were here—but Rita is in Tural, has been in Tural for the past few months, and the only things she’s gotten from her best (only) friend are letters and souvenirs. It’s not enough. Rita’s always been the quickest, smoothest talker. Rrisya can go days without speaking at all.

She’ll have to, now. “Aye,” she says coolly. “Why?”

“I’m from the Stillglade Fane. Hearer Clyde, at your service. We’re looking for your brother.” A significant pause, as though she has more than one brother. “Hahki’a Otombe.”

Kiki’s been essentially confined to the upstairs, warned to stay away from windows. He’s only dared to leave at night.

She meets Hearer Clyde’s gaze and narrows her eyes. “He’s not here. Sorry.”

A muscle twitches in Clyde’s jaw. “Do you know where he is?”

“No.”

“Do you know when he’s coming back?”

“No.”

He inhales slowly. The smile wavers. He’s being stonewalled and knows it, but they’re on the threshold of a rather busy street and so there’s nothing he can do without risking his vaunted peace and serenity. It would look bad to start demanding answers. “I see,” he says finally. “Do inform the Fane if you see him.”

And then, finally, he leaves. She shuts the door, locks it, and sags against the wood. She feels like she’s run a malm. Like she’s fought a boar with her bare hands. That was terrifying—she can’t understand how Rita does things like that all the time—but it worked. He’s gone. There are ways to fight without a weapon in hand, after all.

But he came to their house. They—or at least Kiki—are not safe. Not anymore.

It’s not until the shop closes for lunch that she manages to gather her family and explain what just happened. Predictably, they aren’t happy. They’re even less happy when she finishes up with, “We have to leave.”

“And go where?” her mother demands sharply. “Our lives are here.”

Rrisya winces, ears flattening. Her mother sacrificed much—Otombe traditions, family harmony—to marry her father and settle in the city. She won’t give that up easily. Luckily, she won’t have to. “Not all of us! Just myself and Hahki’a. And not forever, just until they’ve moved on to bigger problems.”

Her father’s frowning thoughtfully, his tail thumping steadily against the leg of his chair. “...Where will you go?”

The Fane has no jurisdiction outside of the Shroud; they could go over the border to Ul’dah or north to Coerthas and be safe. Rrisya has friends in Ala Mhigo, even.

But she thinks of Ritanelle, who’s sent her long letters praising the city of Tuliyollal, and says, “West. I have a friend there—Rita, you know her.”

That seems to go some way towards mollifying her family; they do know Ritanelle Soleil, and more importantly they know she’s a Warrior of Light and would cheerfully reduce Stillglade Fane to ash if given half a chance. Rrisya and Kiki will be utterly safe with her.

If, of course, Kiki agrees to go. Rrisya pauses and glances towards her brother.

Kiki draws in a slow breath. He’s sat silently during her entire recitation, and she hasn’t been able to figure out what he’s thinking. His ears are still back. But now he rises and says, “I’ll start packing.”

[bave-de-crapaud]

The Chaperone...

PART ONE

Artwork by flowsofly

Post Azkaban Sirius Black x Reader Older Sirius Word Count: 1600+

Warning: Eventual Smut

Disclaimer: all characters are assumed 18+

—————

“Sirius, you know I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you are trying to get intel from this woman! For the Order no less.”

Sirius sighed and dropped his face onto his kitchen table. Y/N barely had time to move his coffee mug out of the way before he knocked it over.

“I know, but every time I talk to her she thinks I’m making a move or asking her out.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows in half amusement. “Well, you do flirt, a lot.”

Sirius cocked his head at her and smirked. “That’s just with you, sweetheart.” To Sirius’ annoyance though, Y/N rebuffed this comment.

“Well, have you tried being clearer and stating you are not interested?”

He sat up and looked at Y/N - his derisive expression told her the answer he didn’t need to voice.

“Well, what about appealing to Dumbledore? Surely he won’t keep you in this position…” she trailed off as Sirius scoffed, looking away from Y/N.

“He thinks this is an advantage. Even Moody told me to use ‘every angle.’”

Sirius’s frown concerned Y/N. She’d known him for a few years now - heard of him for longer. He wasn’t the sybarite person that everyone thought he was and she understood his dilemma of having to ‘suck it up’ for the greater good - ending the Death Eater reign.

However, unlike Dumbledore and Moody, Y/N thought that after his stint in Azkaban, and consequent years on the run followed by an enforced house arrest, Sirius had sucked it up enough for their cause.

“Ok, say I do stay and run interference for this…” Y/N waved her hands in the air, struggling for a word to describe the situation.”This… meet.”

“Yes?!” Sirius’ face broke into a hopeful grin which caused Y/N to hold out her palm and halt the hope before it spread.

“Hypothetically speaking, Sirius…. How will that help? Haven’t you already tried this with Remus and Bill?”

Y/N didn’t like the crooked grin that played on Sirius’ face just then, it foretold of danger for her and when he answered she saw where his game was.

“Yes…” Sirius drawled slowly. “But not as my, girlfriend.”

“Oh no! Don’t go there.” Despite her initial reaction of shock, Y/N couldn’t help smiling at his cheeky smirk.

Sirius, pursed his lips and studied her, tapping his boot on the table leg next to him. They sat in silence for a moment, each debating the pros and cons of his request, deflating each second as the realisation grew that though Y/N staying would help Sirius in his conundrum, it would certainly derail his assignment and cause him to lose a key contact.

The thing about Rita was, she didn’t, and had never taken ‘No’ for an answer. It was what made her such an excellent reporter and such an insufferable witch…

-

“Oh Sirius, you are just sooo funny!” Rita’s sickly sweet voice rang out through the room as she placed her hand on his chest and leant into him as if to prove to her colleagues he was her conquest.

Sirius, leant away and smiled mechanically. “All I said was ‘I’m tight on time.’” He knew she was trying to get everyone’s attention. He had been half sure that her intention of inviting him to her workplace for ‘urgent intel’, was in fact a ruse to show him off to her workmates. Now he was certain.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Sirius crossed his arms over his chest, thereby subtly removing her hand from his body.

“Why don’t we talk about this over dinner tonight?” She purred, circling her index finger along his forearm.

The feeling made Sirius’ shiver in disgust and he was certain his balls had just tried to insert themselves back inside his body.

“You called me here to tell me to come to dinner? Jesus, I left work for this - I thought you had some important info?”

Not in the least perturbed, Rita smiled her devious smile at him.

“Oh the Auror office won’t miss you for 5 minutes with me will they?” She attempted to batt her eyes at him in a sycophantic sort of way.

Sirius couldn’t help it, his mouth turned down in disgust and she had noticed. He was weighing up his options: piss her off and lose potential info or acquiesce, and suffer through another obsequious evening. It was perhaps the hardening in her eyes at his obvious distaste to her flirting and the worry of failing the Order that answered for him.

“Fine. See you tonight. Come to my place. 6pm. We’ll eat.”

Rita smiled triumphantly as Sirius turned, leaving the room quickly.

“Oh, I have a friend staying with me at the moment and she’ll be joining us. You’ll like her. See you tonight.”

Though his back was turned, he could picture the shocked displeasured look finding its way onto her features. It was small wins like this that gave him strength, and he smirked to himself as he strode out of the room.

-

“Yikes - she is awful, Sirius.” Y/N had listened as he talked and started to feel sorry for the man. He was, as he had so eloquently pointed out previously, between a rock and a hard place. Could it possibly be that they - the Order - his friends had misjudged this supposed playboy?

As Y/N contemplated this, Sirius sighed and took another sip of his coffee. Y/N studied his face, it was drawn and resigned. Not at all like the playful, gregarious Sirius she was used to.

Wanting to cheer him up, Y/N kept searching in her brain for help, “well, it won’t be all bad will it? You’ll at least have someone with you tonight.”

Sirius looked back at Y/N, a hopeful expression filling out his face. “I will?”

“Yes.” Y/N frowned confused. “You said to Rita that someone was…oh no!”

Finally clicking to the realisation about what he had assumed, Y/N stood up quickly from the table.

“No no no no no… no!”

“Please, Y/N?!” Sirius got to his feet too.

“No! Sirius, how will that look? We’ll get in trouble with the Order and this is important intel, I hope.”

“I’m begging you Y/N.” Sirius implored. “I’ll drop to my knees if you want me to.”

Y/N was temporarily disarmed at the thought of bringing Sirius Black to his knees and he used this momentary lapse in concentration to his advantage.

“Look, she’ll be here any minute and you don’t have to be you.”

“What do you mean? She knows who I am. We work in the same department remember. Unless you have some Polyjuice on hand but I doubt there is a wizard or witch Rita Skeeter won’t recognise. She gets everywhere.”

“No not Polyjuice - she doesn’t know your animagus form!” Sirius was grinning artfully at Y/N who was again temporally shocked by another request.

Sirius pushed forward before Y/N could react to the fact he knew she was an animagus, “I said there was someone joining us tonight - I didn’t say it was human!” Sirius paused, an infinitesimal air of hesitancy about him, “You can pretend to be my pet.”

“YOUR PET?!” Y/N took a swipe at him from across the table which he easily dodged by catching her hand in his.

“You’d make a great pet Y/N and I’ll be sure to treat you right.” He laughed at her snarl and pitiful attempt to hit him again.

Before Y/N could voice her outrage there was a knock at the door.

Both froze.

“Sirius!” Y/N tired to reason with him. “You haven’t even seen my animagus form - how did you even know I was one?”

“Tonks told me.” He smirked again.

Tonks. Y/N growled under her breath already planning what she was going to do the next time she saw that metamorphmagus.

“It can’t be that bad.” Sirius held on to Y/N’s hand still, as he strode around the table, heading towards the door. “T said you were some sort of cat?”

Y/N looked at him for a full 10 seconds, contemplating her options. Another, more impatient knock rang out in the hallway.

“Please Y/N?” Sirius beseeched her.

She looked into the perfect face of Sirius Black, his sharp jawline flecked with stubble, chiseled cheek bones flanked by waves shoulder length black hair. She couldn’t say no to this face and in all honesty she was starting to believe that this might be fun.

“Yes, I’m a cat.”

“Please Y/N. Sirius begged again. “ I’ll owe you big time.”

“Fine, but be careful what you wish for.” A reckless freedom had swept over Y/N and perhaps tonight would prove to be an excellent moment to test the waters with Sirius - see just how sincere he was and how far he was willing to go to owe her one.

“Great!” Sirius stood close to Y/N and wrapped her in a furious bear hug. “I’ll grab the door and you just.. um change. Don’t leave my side ok?”

“Ok.”

“Just do cat things: get in the way, sit on my lap etcetera.”

“Your lap?!” Y/N raised an eyebrow at him.

To his credit he blushed. “Strictly to help me create a barrier with Rita and all that.”

Y/N had not seen Sirius blush before. “Ok - I’ll do cat things and keep her away from you.”

Sirius squeezed her once again before turning and walking out the room as the forth and final knock sounded loudly on the front door.

A small smile crept onto Y/N’s lips as she thought of Sirius asking her to sit on his lap. Whatever happened tonight, that request alone was going to be worth the potential telling off they could get from the Order if anyone found out what they were doing tonight. 

This was going to be fun.

---

Tag List: @with1love1anu  @evyiione  @borbole-teias  @riddikuluslypotter  @sirius-lysad  @emmamass24  @mylovelykelsifer  @sly-vixen-up2nogood  @ashkuuuu  @songforhema  @wangmangagavroche  @legalyred  @qwertyokok  @criminalyetminimal  @hannahhobnob  @mrsrosiebarnes  @ofherosandvillians-blog  @doitforthevine67  @maraudersprincess  @socialfake  @fangirlofbooksandpasta @littledeadgirlwalking @themyththelegendthenerd @fific7​

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Who do you think is the most incompetent character in Canon HP? I think it's Fudge or Lockhart, but then again they're only incompetent in SOME areas. So, what do you think?

Oh my god, there are so many contenders.

I feel like this is almost every single character. We’re talking Harry who only seems to accomplish his goals by divine luck. We’re talking Umbridge whose methods are so ridiculous I can’t even imagine what she imagines the outcome of her actions will be. We’re talking Lockhart (though I’m not actually sure incompetence is the right word, it’s more that he’s so drowning in narcissism he can’t even recognize his abilities, Lockhart is a wonder). Fudge, for obvious reasons...

I’m not even sure where to begin with this, really.

I guess I have to go with Fudge just because his incompetency is not only a near constant but it’s also often nearly lethal on a catastrophic level. 

Just, god, Fudge, you are a wonder.

Let’s start with Sirius’ breakout from Azkaban.

Fudge panics and thus causes the population to panic. Advertisements are being run by the hour, Sirius Black’s face is on every newspaper page. This is in a society where dropping the very name Voldemort sends the population into fits of terror. Fudge could very easily have inspired riots and then gone and joined the riots himself because Sirius broke out of Azkaban. I am mildly surprised that Diagon Alley wasn’t completely in flames by the time Harry got there. And this is on the competent end for Fudge.

We have Fudge running advertisements on the Muggle television. Now, I’m sure somebody told Fudge this was a brilliant idea. It even sounds like a good idea if you don’t think about it much: this way he can’t even hide in the muggle world. The trouble is what if somebody looks into this? Sirius Black is being mentioned every hour in the muggle media? What high security prison did he come from? What crime did he commit? Did Fudge even bother to make up a fake muggle history for this fake muggle murderer he just made up? Remember, the coverup for the muggles Sirius supposedly murdered was a gas leak, so Sirius can’t be blamed for that. I expect some muggles started asking questions and either the obliviators had to work overtime, Fudge got lucky, or a more insidious but likely answer is that the wizarding world didn’t even notice that they had dropped the ball. They’re so secure in their belief that they have the statute under control, that muggles are inherently gullible and stupid, that one day the statute of secrecy will break without them even knowing.

Fudge then loses Harry Potter. How does he manage this? Harry walks out the door of his muggle home and steps onto a bus. I imagine this nearly gave Fudge a heart attack but the fact was that no one had told Harry to stay there, Harry wasn’t aware that there was even any danger, and there was nothing at all preventing him from doing it. The kid calls the goddamn Night Bus and steps right up on board. Fudge’s solution of what to do with Harry later? He tells Harry to stay in the Leaky Cauldron, doesn’t even assign him a minder, just has him stay there. Good lad, please don’t die.

Fudge then sends soul eating demons who nobody understands to Hogwarts in case Sirius Black might show up to ‘protect the children’. Within only a few hours on the train one student, Harry Potter at that, passes out from dementor exposure. Fudge is convinced he can control these things. The dementors show up to a quidditch match. Fudge is so unbelievably lucky that half the Hogwarts population wasn’t eaten. Fudge, however, is so incompetent and short sighted he doesn’t even realize he’s lucky. Of course the dementors listen to the ministry! He’s the minister of magic! To top this, the dementors aren’t even effective, they fail to catch Sirius Black. 

Also, a smaller thing of Fudge but very in character, Harry learns about Sirius Black through the world’s most contrived means. He happens to be hanging out in Hogsmeade where he’s not supposed to be, hiding under Ron and Hermione’s table, and Fudge drops by. Fudge then loudly says, “Ah, Rosmerta, random barmaid! Have I told you all about the time Sirius Black was responsible for the murder of Harry Potter’s parents? No? WELL SIT RIGHT DOWN” This isn’t quite as bad as murdering all the children, but it’s pretty ridiculous.

But hey, Fudge was there to almost murder a hippogriff who attacked Malfoy’s son? I mean, it escaped, but... FUDGE DOES THINGS!

Later, fifth year, he runs the smear campaign against Harry Potter. Now, running a smear campaign against a fifteen-year-old is a shitty thing to do but that’s not why it’s incompetent. It’s incompetent because he goes all out. Actively calling Harry Potter, beloved savior of the nation, a narcissistic liar just gives him credence. It’s too strong and it only works (not even for the full population at that) because people are so terrified of Voldemort they’d accept this Rita Skeeter tabloid madness rather than face that again. As it is, Harry has his interview in the Quibbler, which is basically the National Inquirer, AND PEOPLE READ IT. THAT’S INSANE. YOU FAILED FUDGE. YOU FAILED SO HARD. 

A better plan would have been to acknowledge Harry had been through a traumatic event. Cedric somehow died in the tournament, Harry has lived all his life with this crushing expectation he’s defeated the dark lord, Harry probably watched this happened and is in such traumatized shock he believes Voldemort did it. Worse, Dumbledore probably convinced Harry somehow that Voldemort had done it, and Harry not knowing what happened and trusting his headmaster agreed. This would have been far more effective. 

But Fudge is panicking. So he goes even more ridiculous than a smear campaign led by Rita Skeeter (which, of all the people to pick, you choose her?) 

He sets loose Delores Umbridge. Umbridge’s first brilliant plan is to send dementors to a muggle neighborhood. What was the outcome of this? Was Harry Potter supposed to be terrified into silence? Was the entire muggle neighborhood supposed to be eaten? Was Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world who had just claimed Voldemort had returned, supposed to be assassinated without people thinking Voldemort did it? Seriously, I’ve turned this over in my head, and I have no idea what the ideal outcome here was supposed to be. Just that Umbridge is nuts.

As it is, the best thing for them happens, Harry Potter stops it and is put on trial. Except then they get accused of somehow losing track of dementors. They try to brush this away with there being no witnesses and Harry being insane but then Mrs. Figg shows up. So, either the ministry is so incompetent that soul eating demons are roaming the country or the ministry just tried to assassinate Harry James Potter, the boy who lived. Fudge saves himself by going, “Oh gee, look at the time, case dismissed.”

Despite Umbridge having gone completely mad and unhinged, Fudge sends her to Hogwarts. There she tortures students, presumably to silence them, but again it just gives Harry Potter credence. Why is Umbridge trying so hard to silence these people? She directly fuels Harry Potter building a seeming guerilla army of school children planning a coup of Fudge in Dumbledore’s name. It’s Fudge’s worst nightmare. More, she actively sabotages the education of an entire generation, students actually drop out of school. And then she fails to do the one thing she went to Hogwarts to do: silence Harry Potter.

Then, of course, Fudge finds out the ministry is lousy with spies, Voldemort really is back, and he just has to stand there and go, “Welp, guess I’m fired.” Yes, Fudge, you’re fired.

In short, I can’t think of a single action he takes that is in any way competent. More, nearly every action he takes could have very easily resulted in dozens of deaths.

[gerrystamour]

kiss away young thrills and kills

For: @daily-thots-ofhistory​

@daily-thots-ofhistory​ said: for the fic request, Nureyev's first birthday with Juno (whether that's really his birthday or Juno just giving him a birthday or something else! Whatever you'd like!)

So I took a few liberties, with it being super introspective and whatnot, and not super focused on jupeter. Hopefully, the requester likes it! ;p

-

Peter woke up in Juno’s bed, yet the former detective was nowhere to be found. However, the sheets next to him were still warm when he slid his cool fingers across the soft linen. Juno had probably gotten up to get a head-start on his morning, maybe even secure a shower first before the other ladies aboard the Carte Blanche beat him to it.

With a tired yawn and a languid stretch, Peter rolled over to grab his comms off of the bedside table to check the time. When he did, he also caught the date and froze.

Thirty-eight.

Peter Nureyev had turned thirty-eight, and he had slept through it. Well, he hadn’t quite slept through it, given the ache in his thighs and hips and the pleasant memories of the night before. But midnight had come and gone, and he had forgotten to mark it with every bit of melodrama he could muster. 

It had been the closest thing to a “tradition” he had for his birthday, watching the seconds tick down until the clock read four zeroes and the date moved forward. Then he would turn his gaze to a mirror and study his face, his hair, the skin of his throat and chest, looking for the evidence of his body failing him, as if the difference between 23:59 and 00:00 would change him as much as a full decade would have.

Peter would stare for what felt like hours, pulling his sagging face tight, poking at the dark bags under his eyes, sliding his tongue along his yellowing teeth. Objectively, he knew all along most of this worry had been in his head, that his face was still mostly smooth, his teeth perfect and white, and the bags under his eyes easily concealed. Objectively, he knew that even if all of those ideas had been true, they hardly actually mattered, least of all to his beloved detective.

Thirty-eight.

Peter was all of a sudden too old to round down to thirty-five, but still too young to round up to forty—not that he wanted to round up. He was officially, completely, in his late thirties, and he wasn’t sure where that left him emotionally.

At present, he was lying in his lover’s bed, rubbing the still-warm spot where Juno had been laying, and pondering linear time. He wondered whether it made sense to rail against it so hard, and if he should feel bad for being the way he was about his age and appearance.

But when he’d been travelling alone, all he had were his looks. 

Sure, Peter had wit and charm, too, but it was mostly looks that got him in the door. Nothing disarmed a rich idiot like a pretty face. 

But as he aged, Peter had quickly learned the unspoken rule the hard way. Rich idiots didn’t just want a pretty face to own and call theirs, they wanted pretty and young faces.

The first time a mark had scoffed at him for attempting a seduction when there were softer, younger, more inexperienced young men to choose from, Peter wasn’t sure who he was more disgusted with; the near ancient art dealer chasing after people only a quarter of his age, or himself for thinking he could compete. Later he had known it was the former, if the liberal use of his knife had been anything to go by, but there was still a fair bit of shame due to the latter. 

It had been after that job when he began his entire routine of painstakingly covering up every single flaw he found.

Thirty-eight. 

The same age Juno had been when they met. Things had… shifted after meeting Juno Steel. 

Seeing the way the lady held himself in his oversized trench coat and thick turtleneck sweater, the way he had worn every single minute of his own thirty-eight years on his face and his shoulders had moved something into focus. The time they spent in Miasma’s tomb, the days he went without his make-up, without the touch-up dye for his roots, even without a toothbrush. Yet without fail, every time he caught Juno looking at him, Juno had seemed… stunned, blown away. His desire for Peter had been unmistakable.

Even during that terrible time, Juno had wanted him.

Of course, that hadn’t cured him of his anxiety regarding his continued usefulness and success with his waning appearance. 

For a time—a period of forty-eight hours cumulatively—he had considered letting his silver hair grow out, as Juno’s had been allowed to. If his beautiful, dear detective could look his age, why not Peter? Together, he didn’t have to depend on his appearance, his desirability on its own.

Then Juno had left, and Peter was back to his old ways. There was no avoiding it, he told himself, and so he returned to dying his hair, doing up his face in oppressive layers of concealer and other make-up, to working his body through long hours or stretches, work-out routines, and yoga.

Things had changed again when he joined the crew aboard the Carte Blanche. With Juno’s return. He had found himself the youngest on the crew, the “baby” as Rita would exclaim when it was brought up, and suddenly every fear and anxiety he had seemed… petty, and even mean to say aloud, even jokingly. 

How could he think himself ruined by a grey hair when their captain had half of her face rotting from radiation? How could he complain about the self-inflicted ache in his neck and shoulders when the rest of the crew had their own plentiful aches with far less room to criticize themselves for it yet never make a sound about them?

It had been a startling revelation during one of his nightly conversations with Juno that his fixation with his appearance had begun when he was with Mag. There had been different heists where they had depended on Peter’s baby-face, and when he began growing out of said baby-face, those jobs were jeopardized. He could remember the day his appearance had sharpened enough that Mag decided it was better to age him up with his presentation and adjusted their jobs accordingly. It was something Mag had claimed required sacrifice, and discomfort even.

Peter hadn’t realized just how far he had carried that man’s teachings in that regard. It had been so tightly packed away in the farthest reaches of his mind, something he kept hidden away since he was seventeen.

Ultimately, it had been a comment from Vespa of all people that had made him truly think about his nonsense. 

They were preparing for a heist, something small for some money, just fleecing some rich idiot for as much as they could. It was just after his leg had healed and they got off that planet, and he and Juno were going in as a married couple. Peter had questioned Buddy’s insistence on that cover every time, but she had blown off the question, instead informing him that they were executing their plan the following day.

Peter had, largely without pausing to consider his words, idly mention needing dye, that all of his existing stores had been destroyed when the ship crashed into the ocean.

“The hell do you need hair-dye for, Ransom?” Vespa had bit out around her mouthful of dinner. 

“Well, if you haven’t noticed, my roots have grown in quite a bit and—” Peter had started, pointedly ignoring Juno’s grumbling.

“You’re s’posed to look like a married couple,” Vespa interrupted with an eye-roll. “You can’t go in there looking twenty-five when Steel looks forty.”

“But I—why—I don’t look twenty-five,” Peter argued, furrowing his brow.

“It doesn’t matter how old you look, Ransom! We get it, you’re used to working alone, whatever,” Vespa snapped before she took a breath. “When you’re working with someone else, it’s better to match. So if you dye your hair, Juno has to dye his.”

“But—”

“For this job, you can’t look like a trophy husband, Pete,” Buddy said, seemingly annoyed by the interruption to the family meeting. “You would stand out. I will gladly pick you up some dye after the job to sooth your ego, but not before. Now, can we get back on track?”

They were right, of course. That didn’t mean he particularly liked it. But he couldn’t continue to get away with making himself look younger and younger while he ran with a band of thieves who were all clearly older than him. 

Peter wasn’t exactly graceful in his allowance for aging, of course, but he was working on it. He started by allowing the silver in his hair to grow in, and wearing less concealing make-up around the Carte Blanche. He hadn’t thought he had made much progress in the “being okay with aging” angle of his growth and unpacking of his emotional baggage.

Yet there he was, lying in bed on his thirty-eighth birthday, stunned he had missed it. He hadn’t just missed it, he realized, but he had forgotten it was coming up at all.

Peter was startled from his thoughts as an arm slid around his waist, skin warm and damp from a shower. “Sorry, babe,” Juno whispered against his shoulder blade. “Didn’t realize you were that far away.”

That was one of Juno’s probing statements; when Juno had a question and wanted the answer, but would have dropped if Peter didn’t respond. That simple statement was equal parts apology for the startle, and inquiring after what had him so distracted. It would have been so easy to say he had just been daydreaming, to roll over and distract Juno with kisses and gentle touches, but…

“It’s my birthday,” Peter whispered, and if it hadn’t been for the way Juno stiffened against his back, he would have thought the former detective hadn’t heard him.

“It is?” Juno’s voice was strained as he asked it, and Peter realized belatedly his error.

“Don’t you worry your pretty head, my love,” Peter reassured him gently, covering the hand splayed over his lower abdomen with his own and tangling their fingers together. “I hadn’t said anything about it. I usually don’t—this is the first birthday in a very long time I haven’t been alone for.”

“Oh,” Juno whispered, and Peter shivered at the kiss pressed to the centre of his back. “Is there anything you wanted to do?”

“Mm,” Peter hummed, rolling over in Juno’s arm to kiss him chastely, warmth bursting in his chest at the hesitance in Juno’s voice. “Perhaps we can… stay in bed? Together?”

Juno smiled against his lips and laughed. “Yeah, Nureyev, I think we can,” he replied and then asked, “Anything else I can do for you?”

“You’ve already done more than enough, love,” Peter replied softly, tucking his head under Juno’s chin. “Just being here is perfect.”

“Sap,” Juno grumbled, and Peter laughed.

“And you love me for it,” he replied, smirking as he felt the heat of Juno’s flush crawl down his neck.

“So what if I do?” Juno grumbled petulantly, and Peter laughed at that.

“Say it,” Peter said, but it was more of a question, really. A request for reassurance. At the last moment, he softened it with a quiet, “Please?”

“Fine,” Juno grumbled jokingly, pulling back so his mismatched eyes met Peter’s own. The prosthetic for his implant was always a few shades different than his natural eye, which Peter was fairly convinced was an intentional choice of Juno’s. 

With a grin, Juno added, “Peter Nureyev, I love you, and I love that you’re a sap, and no I will literally never stop complaining about it.”

Peter smiled at that and accepted the kiss Juno had for him, sighing as it deepened and allowing himself to be rolled onto his back, Juno slotting in between his legs with a soft sound of his own.

“Hey,” Juno said, pulling back and biting his lip nervously. “How about I make that one dish I made a few weeks ago? The one with the flatbread thing you like so much?”

“Why would you make something so time-consuming?” Peter asked, truly puzzled. “Plus, we had decided it uses too much of our supplies, but doesn’t make enough for the crew.”

“I wasn’t going to make it for the crew, Nureyev. I want to make it for you,” Juno replied with a laugh. 

Peter blinked at him a bit dumbly, before asking, “For… me? But why?”

“It’s your birthday, babe. I want it to be a nice one,” Juno said, seeming a bit puzzled. “I mean, I get not liking your birthday, but that doesn't mean I can’t do something nice, right?”

“Oh, you’ve already done enough for me, love,” Peter sighed, pulling Juno into a solid kiss to distract him from the tears that had filled his eyes.

Yes, he still hated that time moved ever forward, and yes, he had another year at least of unpacking to possibly be “okay” with it. There was a chance he would always have the nagging voice of Mag in his head pointing out each new wrinkle, every new patch of silver hair growing in.

But he had his beautiful detective in his arms, and a family out in the halls of the Carte Blanche if he would reach out and accept them… he couldn’t reasonably ask for much more on his thirty-eighth birthday.

[llendrinall]

Hi I have a writing promt.

A story that is written from both pov's that shows Draco and Harry falling in love with each other. Little moments together where they fall a bit more in love. Things they do that make the other thing "Wow I'm so in love with him". Ect.

Harry had always been starkly aware of Draco, but it was after the war, in the Wizengamot, when he actually noticed him for the first time.

Draco was sitting next to Pansy Parkinson, holding her hand so tight that he was leaving white marks. Harry got a glimpse of them when Pansy was called to give her testimony.

Then the unthinkable happened. Instead of demurring, which she was allowed to do –was expected by everyone to do, was what every other member of a Death Eater family had done so far– Pansy answered all the prosecutor’s questions. She gave true testimony and denied her parents the imperius defence.

Draco was waiting for her when she came down from the stand. He grabbed her hand and led her away with measured steps so it wouldn’t look like they were running.

 *

The second time Harry noticed Draco like that, as a person rather than as an opponent, was, coincidentally, the first time Draco saw Harry as Harry. Not as a school enemy or a war enemy or The Boy Who Lived or The Saviour Of The Wizarding World. Not even as Harry Potter. He saw Harry as just Harry.

It probably helped that Harry was unrecognizable under a thick layer of soot and grime so Draco didn’t know who he was calling an idiot. Draco also yelled to stop immediately and step back and, miraculously, Harry did. No hesitance.

Not all Death Eater had been arrested and not every awful individual had joined Voldemort, which meant that there were plenty of terrible people out in the world. Someone, Death Eater or not, had attacked Wisteria House. The house where rescued and freed house-elves were hosted.

Draco understood that the house-elves weren’t the goal. They were just the bait, a cheap collateral. The point of the attack was to have someone (maybe Harry, most probably Granger), cross the door quickly, without looking around them, and walk straight into a deathly trap.

Draco saw the trap, called out a warning and Harry listened. He listened to Draco.

Both of them walked away with a different opinion of the other. No one comes out the same from a burning building.

 *

 The third time went like this.

“Occupied.”

“Je- Blimey!”

“Find your own corner in the shadows to hide, Potter. This one is mine.”

“I don’t have time to find another spot.”

“Too bad. W- wait! No, quit it!”

“Scoot over! We can share.”

“No, we can’t. This is my dark spot, go away.”

“Either we share or I make sure they find you too.”

“As if I care. I’m not hiding from your devotees. Go away.”

“It’s Clay Buckthorn.”

“… be quiet, then.”

They hid in there for an hour, talking in whispers and sharing a bottle of butterbeer, while Secretary Buckthorn, the most persistent and insufferable politician to ever crawl out of the Ministry, looked around for a popular face to join his campaign. They were about to leave when in came Rita Skeeter, pressuring Percy Weasley to answer her questions. They watched from the shadows as she pressed and cajoled and he resisted. It was a bit like watching some sort of fight sport, only after ten minutes they weren’t sure who they were supporting.

 *

Harry thought Draco was dating Pansy Parkinson and maybe he still was. Evidently, it was all for show. No need to read so much into it.  

There was this old witch complaining about tradition and values. Nothing no one hadn’t heard before many times. People these days had no respect, it was disgraceful and so on. But then she turned to Dennis Creevey and his boyfriend (some Slytherin kid, Harry didn’t know him), and she asked if their families weren’t ashamed of them. Two men together. They ought to be.

Harry wasn’t sure if she knew about Dennis’ brother or not. It was hard to believe that people could be so deliberately cruel to a stranger. The question stopped him from immediately jumping to her neck. He had been accused of blowing things out or proportion before. And by before, he meant that morning when he called out that rude shopper who cut the line before a goblin.

Meanwhile, Draco rolled his eyes in that magnificent way of his. For someone who acted so proud and proper, Draco had a very expressive face and the rolling of his eyes was a spectacle to behold. He stood from his table, grabbed Theo Nott by the lapels, and kissed him on the mouth long and hard right in the middle of the crowded restaurant. Afterwards he sat down, perfectly composed, and both Theo and him turned to look at the witch like the smuggest pair of snakes in the forest.

The witch left the restaurant soon after. Dennis lost the wretched look on his face and Harry paid the bill on Draco’s table, earning a nod from him on the way out.

*

The day Draco’s heart began to beat a different rhythm was a hot Thursday in summer and someone had tried to kill him.

It wasn’t a particularly well thought attack and Draco took precautions. He wouldn’t have gotten anything worse than an intense headache and maybe some sore muscles. Still, Harry felt the need to push him to the floor and shield him with his body from the sparks and shrapnel falling over them. Harry had stopped the hex in mid-air, which was admittedly impressive. Draco watched the purple rivulets of the failed curse slowly descending around them and wondered if he was in shock. That would be embarrassing. This clumsy attack on his life didn’t deserve any shock.

Harry jumped from him (so nimble!) and chased down the would-be murdered, on foot, like a muggle. He, he just ran down the street, didn’t even cast a spell until he caught up to him and brought him to the floor. Draco was sorry to miss that part, although there were very good pictures on the newspaper the next day. Harry looked amazingly heroic. One of the pictures had him jumping in mid-air.

Draco didn’t know if this was something Harry did for everybody or if it was just for him, nor did he care. His chest and stomach and… other parts, were confused enough about how to feel, and his heart, in particular was beating to a new tune.  

*

So Draco could make moving shadows to play stories and it was amazingly beautiful and Harry loved it, he loved it, and no, it was not the potion talking, he was perfectly sound of mind. St Mungo was about to let him go! But Draco had come visit him and when Harry complained about being dreadfully bored, Draco had put on this absolutely magical spectacle (yes, Harry knew they were both wizards, it was still magical; no, no potion talking, it was an honest opinion). In the end Harry stayed the night, just like the mediwitch had begged him to, and fell asleep with the shadows performing a dance before him.

*

Draco didn’t call it love because he was quite an obstinate young man, but he was at that stage where he would easily admit that he was willing to lay down his life for Harry. He only had trouble with the word, not with the sentiment itself and its manifestation.

They were at the Ministry. It should be a pretty simple and straight-forward process. Go in, Pansy signs the documents, Draco bears witness and signs his own documents, go out. But of course it wouldn’t be so simple. A pretty pureblood witch doing anything against her family was a spectacle. The press wanted photos, people wanted to see it live, and, of course, there was the ever present mob who just wanted to shout awful things. Usually Pansy dealt with the mob by herself, swiftly and with a sting.

But today was different, hence why Draco had informed Pansy he would be accompanying her before she could ask him to. It wasn’t like the day she gave her testimony, but it was close enough. In a way, it was worse. A year ago they had her testimony to think about. Today it was just signing a document. That could hardly distract them from the crowd waiting for them.  

A push. A yelp. A crash. And Harry Potter gallantly preventing a very old wizard from having a huge flower vase fall on top of him. Somehow, Harry didn’t cast protego in time, so he avoided being brained by the vase but was splashed by the water and stood completely drenched in the middle of the Ministry main hall.

Across the mass of curious people and reporters and workers and people who had come to shout awful things, Harry looked at Draco. He gave him A Look. If he had more time, Draco would stop and think of a suitable metaphor for Harry’s eyes, their colour and intensity. But he didn’t, so he grabbed Pansy by the elbow and together they crossed the hall without the crowd noticing. Everyone’s attention was naturally fixed on the way the Saviour of the Wizarding World’s wet clothes clung to his chest.

Afterwards, once he had seen Pansy safely (and discreetly) home, Draco went to find Harry. He was perfectly dry now, but he had a faint scent of flowers around him.

“The rose garden is lovely in June,” Draco said, which should be enough but of course Harry didn’t understand him. Harry was kind, brave, handsome and clever in the most useless way so Draco had to actually explain, with words, that Weasley and Granger must have realize by now the extent of their fame and what it would mean if they married at the Burrow, where anyone could break in. Hence, why Draco mentioned his lovely rose garden where they could get married if they chose to without anyone invading their privacy.

“Hermione’s extended family is muggle.” Harry said, and dear Merlin it was even worse than Draco thought. They were going to pick a muggle place. So not only people breaking in, but a violent attack against the muggles too. Just what you want for a wedding.

“The Malfoy family marries for power, not blood purity.” Draco explained in a whisper. “There is no repello muggletum in our houses.”

“What!?” Harry cried, drawing immediate and sharp attention to them so they had to leave quickly and find a quiet place where Draco explained that Grandmother Imogen –that is, Lucius Malfoy’s mother– was a muggle but, most importantly, a peer of the Realm.

Harry stood in shocked silence for a minute, and after a lot of “whats” and “hows” and “no, really, how could you join Voldemort?” he accepted to at least extend Draco’s offer to the happy couple.  

*

Draco said he didn’t plan on attending the wedding. Just because he was offering his summer house it didn’t mean he expected an invitation. He got one anyway, because Draco had showed them his summer house and two country houses belonging to his muggle cousins and was very careful not to mention Malfoy Manor at any point. Ron appreciated it even more than Hermione.  

He rejected the invitation anyway because he said he much preferred to sit by the gates and send stinging hexes to anyone trying to intrude. It was his one chance to curse people indiscriminately and he didn’t want to waste it.

He showed up later, during the reception, looking handsome and with a pleased smile on his face. He grabbed a glass of champagne, immediately transformed it from a flute to a pompadour without wasting a drop, and sat himself next to Aunt Muriel whom he proceeded to engage in a long and acrid dispute until Ron and Hermione had left. Dear Aunt Muriel didn’t get a chance to insult the bride, or the groom, or any of their families really.

It was right then, while Draco forged a lifelong enemy (her life, not his) by insulting her garden (how did he know so much about flowers), that Harry realized he was in love. He was in love. He was in love. He wanted to be with Draco and insult people together and scandalize prejudiced old bats until they themselves were old bats.

*

Harry picked up a fight with the officiant (to be fair, that comment about the goblins was very unfortunate) and they ended up getting married at a muggle register’s office and Draco was so, so, happy. His family was obviously displeased. Cousin Nerissa said that her fiancée could officiate and was very offended when Fred Weasley said no one wanted to be married by a man named Cuthbert. It was amazing. George Weasley sat next to Cousin George, the baron. Hermione and Ginny Weasley started a fight with the most traditional-minded relatives (from every side). Cousin Audrey came out to the family when she was caught propositioning Luna Lovegood. Pansy Parkinson got engaged to no less than three lords and said they could sort between themselves who got to marry her.

Draco was so in love. It was amazing.

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 82: Rita Skeeter's Scope

Frank landed spread eagle and bounced several times uncomfortably, head spinning even worse. Forcing himself to pay attention, he looked quickly at all the accompanying crashes and groans to see everyone was still alright and no worse for wear, Alice had landed on a table so sturdy it hadn't moved an inch and was large enough she was several feet off the ground. So was Frank for that matter, this bed looked comfortable enough it would have fit all eight of them if they'd piled on. The more he looked in fact, everything in here was larger than average, including the giant boarhound having a lovely sniff around the older Black, who was grinning and patting the dog on the head. Then Frank grimaced in unease as it clicked where they were, and he hastily leaped from the bed and wondered if Hagrid was going to come stomping in the door any moment.

They hadn't come across any humans though, not even ghosts according to the Marauders Map, but Hagrid wasn't all the way human he now knew...neither was Lupin, he mentally corrected himself, and he was hopping along just fine.

He was having the roughest go of it though, he acknowledged quietly to himself, as the guy swayed on the spot and looked rather gray as he glanced at the window. Despite the clear sun still bright, he managed to look as if several weeks had passed since the last time they met, and maybe it had. How badly did the full moon affect him even when he wasn't in the body of a monster trying to eat them?

There weren't house-elves about though, but animals a plenty. What was the baseline for who stayed and went then? Intelligence? The missing House-elves from the kitchens all but confirmed this theory the more he thought about it, and despite his ah, brutal nature, Hagrid was most definitely of human intelligence. Then Frank winced at his own analytical thoughts, Hagrid had never been violent to a soul. Neither had Lupin really, before he'd nearly murdered them all. He was the most mild of the Marauders, everyone knew he just laughed along or stayed out of the way, but rarely participated. It was hard to keep what he'd read about beasts and actually knowing of the two in line, how misconstrued were texts then?

"Frank?" He looked up in surprise to see Alice holding his hand and Lily giving him an odd look, he must have been quite spaced out in his own thoughts.

"Sorry darling, what was that?" He asked politely, dragging his eyes away from the door Lupin was still leaning against, watching Potter read with only half his attention about whatever Rita Skeeter's Scope was going to be about, nobody had taken a liking to her articles, most of his attention was focused on messing with Hagrid's pink umbrella he was apparently trying to get to work. The older Black had curled up in Fang's bed with the massive dog, the two cuddling and looking sickeningly adorable for it. Pettigrew and the younger Black were still up at the table, scraping their nails against what were presumed to be the infamous rock cakes.

"I was asking if you were alright, you've got bits of blood all over you," she squeezed his hand and already had her wand drawn, but her face still looked rather pinched. He knew he'd upset her again by having watched Lupin so long, but he just didn't understand why he was the only one who still was. As far as he could tell, nobody had really looked twice at him since the incident had happened, why was he the only one who still seemed aware how dangerous Lupin could be? At least, that's what every book he'd ever read about them said, they were always considered apex predators whether it was a full moon or not.

Maybe just full grown werewolves though, he tried to more clearly define. Lupin was still a teenager, an adolescent. Maybe the older he got the worse it would get, but for now he was still holding it in? Maybe that's why he didn't participate in the Marauders' pranks, he wasn't trying to tempt himself?

They'd heard of him full grown though, he argued back with himself, still unhappy at this clear lack of answers. He'd been a teacher at school for a year with zero problems, and he'd definitely been an adult by then, this was nearly twenty years into their future after all. The night of the full moon he hadn't even murdered anyone while loose on the grounds. Perhaps that wolfsbane potion had some sort of latent effect on him? While he hadn't taken it that night, he had been taking it for months previously, perhaps that had just dulled his senses?

"Frank?" This time he did hear Alice call his name, the concern in her voice evident as she inspected his exposed skin as if looking for something else she could fix.

"What kind of plant did you land in? Can you describe it?" Lily asked clinically, but there was concern in her voice as well.

"I'm alright," he quickly reassured them both. "I'm just, ah, thinking."

Lily didn't look particularly convinced, but Alice gave a soft laugh and a kiss on the cheek, distracting him all the more. "It's alright Lily, he's been known to be in his head for ages." Her eyes were still trained on him though, it was clear she wanted to know what had so caught him up, but he pursed his lips and didn't answer, skin still twitching uncomfortably in the present company. She didn't press him on that, and he loved her all the more for it.

In a very obvious chance to change the subject, he asked them, "Any guesses about that egg then?"

"Maybe, it'll act like a key during the next task?" Alice offered. "It'll, unlock something he has to use for the next part."

"They said it was a clue in itself though," Lily corrected, her eyes sparkling with joy once more, she clearly loved a puzzle. "Also, I don't think it would make noise if that was the case. You might be on the right track though, Harry may have to use it somewhere in particular to make it work."

"You think if he opened it underground, like in the dungeons, it would make a different noise?" Frank nursed the idea.

"Something like that, yes," Lily grinned in delight. "Cedric's clue of taking a bath with it certainly indicates it needs some special circumstances to activate the clue," she finished intensely. Frank wondered, before all this started, how long she'd gone without talking to anyone to be doing so with such enthusiasm now as she propelled off the idea into other avenues, mentioned a few potions she wished she could dunk the egg in to see the properties it housed.

Alice found herself going cross-eyed in moments as the two started bouncing ideas off each other, quickly slipping into plants, potions, and even spells she hadn't heard of. Alice swung their hands together and patiently let herself be ignored in their fun. Frank only had two other dormmates, and while they didn't outright ignore him, she got the feeling they didn't go out of their way to include him either.

She instead began listening to the others chatting around her. Potter had not gotten Hagrid's wand/umbrella to work for him and was now sitting cross-legged on the floor, the book in his lap to more easily flip pages while his hands were tossing a golden apple about, she had no idea where he'd gotten that. Remus Lupin looked like he was falling asleep right against the door, even a new development such as Grubbly-Plank mysteriously taking over the class was only just keeping his eyes open it seemed.

Hagrid was indisposed? What could that mean, Alice wondered on as she looked around more critically in his home for clues, but she'd never been in here to know if anything was out of place. There was no fire going, despite the snow on the windowsill, but he could have been out on the grounds as a gamekeeper was want to do and it interfered with his class for once. His bed was rumpled, but that could have been from Frank landing on it. From what they'd heard of his cooking, the food could have been days old or brand new and they'd never tell the difference. She really hoped Harry went over there to check on him after class. After that, spat, he'd had with Maxime, the poor guy clearly needed a friend.

Potter winced in surprise when he did seem to get to the reason, Skeeter's Scoop indeed.

"-That awful woman," Lily cut off what she'd been saying to scowl at the book in Potter's lap rather than the boy for once, still an odd sight. "How dare she spread his secret like that, Harry's bad enough!"

"You don't think others have a right to know?" Frank asked her in surprise.

"Not in this way," she tossed her hair and didn't even seem to register Frank's odd tone. Alice did, and she frowned up at him once more. "That bloody woman will completely misconstrue Hagrid just like she has been Harry. Even if by some miracle she doesn't, what does it matter as he's no threat to anyone."

Frank was frowning in unease by the end, tugging on his robes and looking very deep in thought once more. Alice sighed as she realized what he'd been debating this time, and she still deeply disapproved of his very black and white stance on this subject. Didn't being around Remus Lupin and Hagrid the past six years prove there was more to this than the stories they'd heard growing up?

Potter was protesting this article as vehemently as Lily was, and Alice got a bit of personal amusement at least those two were agreeing on something with so much vigor neither even seemed to realize it. Their child followed in their footsteps, he seemed in no way ready to let the matter end there about Hagrid and she was not the only one smiling at the kids' reaction to this as well. Sadly, Hagrid was not forthcoming, and Alice did notice the heavy-looking lock on his door was indeed shut tight enough Hagrid himself would have a job of breaking it down.

The passage of time was weighing all of them down as the Hogsmeade trip came and went in a blast of a fashion. Between Ludo Bagman's bizarre interactions and Skeeter all but rubbing in what she'd done, they all would have taken a crack at getting a chance to talk to Hagrid same as Hermione by the end. Of course none of them were expecting Dumbledore of all people to be in here, but trying to picture him sitting at the table with Hagrid and chatting with his friend in this time of need was honestly such a pleasant thing to think about, they were almost smiling again.

A feeling that only increased as Dumbledore took charge of the situation, flat refusing Hagrid's resignation and not allowing him to hide away in shame for something he had no control over. Alice wished she could hug her headmaster right now! She eyed Frank obviously, who was still fidgeting with his robes, but nodding along nonetheless. At least his faith in Dumbledore seemed to have tipped the scales in some regards, and she'd take the slow progress that was.

[hazbinextgeneration]

Into The Casino Ch16

(WARNING: Fight scenes including hair pulling and a death is contained within this chapter as well as past abuse mentioned. If this makes you uncomfortable please don't read. You have been warned.) What happened on the way home was..Well...Interesting to say the least. The strange warm feeling in his chest still hadn't gone away even after they were leaving. The gal feeling exhausted enough to fall asleep against his shoulder and ONLY because he was a gentleman, he wrapped an arm around her and allowed her to lean against him on the way home. Cyber was a little confused on his silence and the face he made as he glanced out the window on the way back, but she chalked it up to him calculating about the new possible deals he could make or perhaps maybe he was thinking about how to con someone over again. He had that hard thinking face over him and it was best to let him think at times. So she didn't argue when the limo finally stopped in front of their home, and he lightly shook the sleeping beauty awake. Her purple eyes blinking and she yawned tiredly, and he told Cyber to go take her back and make sure she got some rest. Thankfully Leaving Minight in charge with Disease following her orders was a grand idea. No harm was done to the place while they were gone. ....Sleep didn't come easy to him that night surprisingly but he managed. The next day was like it didn't even happen. In fact it was very normal. He got up, gave the usually orders to everyone who would get their assignments from him and told her the small list of personal things he needed her to be done that day. Which included cleaning out his office, but he made sure that all the valuable souls were very well secured and locked away where only he or Cyber could retrieve them. She smiled brightly and agreed as usually before trotting on her merry way...but this time that small warm feeling returned...he shrugged it off and continued onto the floor with Cyber. Business as usually.

Except the day after that the small feeling happened again. And again. And Again. And again. AND AGAIN!! Before he knew it nearly a month had passed with that strange small warm feeling in his chest was still there whenever he spoke to her, but he simply ignored it as he had better things to get done. Until one day he had a knock at the office door. He looked to the door for a moment before looking back down to the papers in his hands.

"Come in. Door's open." Well the door did open and in stepped the timid creature. He was a bit surprised she of all people would come in at this time of day, but he gave that famous smile none the less. "Aw, Pet.~ Hello, my dear. What can I do for you today? Is Disease bothering you again?"

She didn't answer straight away, but still gave a small smile. "N-No. I actually wanted to ask you something.''

"Ask away my dear! Im always happy to hear from you." Her question wasn't really something he would be expecting.

As she sheepishly rubbed her arm and looked everywhere but him. "A-Actually, I-I was wondering if you'd ever want to go dancing with me again s-sometime. I-It was really fun and I-" She looked back to him with a small smile. "I think..I want t-to get to know you better."

Well...that certainly was unexpected, but that just meant more progress! So he happily grinned politely as her sweet offer to him. "Darling. Of course! I would be delighted to spend time with you." His red eyes glanced to the grandfather on the otherside of the office before glancing back to her. "Tell you what. Why don't you join me for tea in an hour? We'll have plenty of time to talk then."

Her ears perked up with a bigger smile. "R-Really? S-Sure. I'd really like that."

He chuckled. "Very well then. In the meantime, do be a dear and fetch me another cup of coffee, will you? This business deal won't straighten itself out."

She happily agreed and he was eventually rewarded with a new steaming mug of coffee and he was happily looking through the papers he held within his hands as the clock clicked away on the wall across from them. Instead of leaving as soon as she gave him the mug, she stayed and looked curiously to the papers he held with innocent naivity. Oh it made him chuckle.

"What are you dealing with this time?" An innocent enough question.

"The owner of the winery next door has offered to sell it to me, but getting a hold of him is as easy as putting a fire out with gas." Which meant it wasn't easy at all. What could the fool possibly be doing that was so much more important than selling him the dam place if he offered in the first place?!

She made an 'oh' and blinked back to him. "Well I think it'd be a great addition to the casino."

"Is that right?"

She nodded. "Absolutely! With your business managing skills I bet you could connect the two easily. Maybe even open up a second larger bar inside it. Those are pretty popular as I've heard." Her brows furrowed in thought. "But maybe not make it so smoke ridden or blast that ridiculous excuse for music around, not a lot of people like those places. By the looks of all your friends at the party I'd say a few of them would pay a pretty penny to have one place around here that wasn't so....exotic like Rita's." She didn't even notice Lou had stopped midway through a sip and looked up at her. "With Midnight's potion making, you could probably even make your own brand and sell it too! Plus if you expanded the winery to double the size and enhanced the magical power of turning grapes into wine, I bet you'd get a lot more customers. A lot of people would like real authentic wine made from real grapes like on the surface instead of..how did Disease put it? 'Cheap gunk water'? And since you'd be able to grow your own grapes and own the brewery, you'd be able to make yourself some as well with no cost at all." She turned to him with a smile but paused seeing his face. "Oh..I-Im sorry. W-Was I talking too much?"

"..No. No actually. All those sounds like marvelous ideas!" He smiled before sipping that bitter tasting drink.

"Really?!"

He chuckled again. "But of course. But I am curious. Where did you learn all your business know how anyhow? I know you explained your father was a prominent business man, probably not as successful as yours truly, but by what you told me about him and your past, he didn't seem too keen on letting a lady such as you keep on the family business. No offense."

Her eyes glanced down for a moment. "He-...He often dragged me along to..c-certain business meetings if he knew someone had a son. I heard a lot at those places."

He glanced up at her for a moment. "....And I am to assume he only brought you along to use you as some kind of token in case he saw an opportunity to use you to get information from said sons? Or am I assuming something too large?"

"No. You're p-pretty spot on. He didn't see me for anything else."

"What of your mother?" If she was spilling information, he might as well get as much as he could get from her. Never know when it might come in handy.

She shrugged. "I don't know. My parents got divorced when I was a baby and she...s-she left me with him. N-Never met her."

"Oh, I see....Well I am sorry for your situation." He went back to his papers with another sip.

"Thank you..." She looked at him. "What was your family like?"

He paused...before blinking and looking back up to her. "My family?" She nodded and he went silent for a moment. ".....They were...terrible people let's say. A gambling man and his not so wonderful wife is what resulted in myself."

"Is that why you're so good at running a casino?"

He chuckled. Oh if only she really knew the many nights he was forced from a young age to stand watch as his father and his 'friends' gambled any and all money away, drinking away their sorrows. Of course he never did, instead he was much more interested in what the men did with the cards. And eventually he swiped a deck himself and began practicing when he was bored, which lead to him developing his own tricks. His own destiny carved out by himself. And the name he made back on the surface. He sometimes wondered if his name was still up there somewhere besides obviously on a tombstone. Were there any records of himself from his bloody gang wars? Probably not because then he was still nothing but a small fish in a big pond, but you could imagine his surprise when he woke up to him tumbling down and hitting the sidewalk hard when he first got here. Confused as all hell but quickly able to recover. He had to claw his way up the ranks and fought tooth and nail to get there, but it all paid off now didn't it. Hard work always paid off in the end in his experience. Sometimes he wondered what his poor parents faces would be if they could see him now? An overlord of hell and richer than they would ever dream! That's the difference between him and them. He was smart with his money and knew how to play the game.

"You could say so. But I like to believe it's more thanks to my natural ability to spot the obvious good things in life before they slip away.~"

"Oh. Well I'd say you have a wonderful ability!"

He chuckled more at her politeness. "Thank you. But now I believe I promised that tea."

Things were FINALLY starting to look more progressive with Midnight's assignment as over the next few days she was finally able to restore them to their (almost) original state and they looked a lot cleaner than when he first got them. He was pleased none the less, but she told him they'd need to test them which was a small problem. Obviously he couldn't let anyone know he had them for confidential reasons, so it'd be a bit tricky. But he would figure it out later. He was making great progress bout everywhere it seemed. The pretty pet wanted to spend more time with him and he was happily to oblige, sometimes for tea, other times for that promised dancing he promised. He was surprised to find out she knew the jitterbug and charleton, though it was quite obvious she was still rusty. He was happy to escort her through the small steps and be close to her-..Uh! I mean to get her to easily go with what he said of course. It had nothing to do with her giggles or the surprise squeaks she'd make when he surprised her, or the fact she basically enjoyed the same things he did. It was just because he enjoyed dancing and it was nice to have someone compliment his singing and dancing skills. But it certainly stroked his ego as Midnight would oh so lovely put it. She wasn't...bad to have around. Compliments and politeness aside, she was very down to earth and ..surprisingly passionate. Actually dimallishing Rita's bar when he asked her what could be better about it. He laughed and honestly wondered what Rita would think if she knew someone as weak as her thought her place was a 'smelly bin of smoke and sweat that needed a few windows and MORE than just a few scented candles'.

Well after that little laugh he knew just the position to promote her to. So when he called her up to come to his office, she was pretty surprised when he explained why.

She blinked. "Personal asisntant?"

He hummed and nodded. "That's right, Dear! I feel as if merely being a secretary was ..undermining your abilities. You'd still have your duties AS my secretary but with more duties added on. But I promise the extra work would be worth the effort."

"What exactly are they?"

"You'd be entrusted with taking care of my more personal property. For example you're now in charge of making sure my space her is always in order and things are where I can find them, you'd be in charge of making sure my meals are delivered, and of course as my right hand asistant you'd be accompying me on business if it calls for it. But if it sounds too much too soon for you, I'll gladly just not give the promotion."

And wouldn't you know it. Hook. Line. And sinker. He made it seemed like something much better than it was and of course she agreed right away it would be a fantastic idea. And the next day she got too it. If there was another thing he could say about her it was that it was she was a hard worker, and she worked her tail off to prove she earned that little spot. Or maybe it was because some part of her still felt scared or intimidated by him. Didn't matter for now. Progress was being made throughout. She would still flinch lightly when he wrapped an arm around her or patted her back, but it was MUCH better than before. Couldn't say the same thing about everyone else or big crowds. She still was timid around those and that was just fine with him. The less interaction beyond his little crew the better. He gets to spend more time with her and vise versa! Everyone wins. Especially him. Though there was still a matter of that small warm feeling that wasn't really that small anymore, and he had a sneaking feeling as to what it could've possibly been, but he still pushed the unimportant thing aside for now. Right now he had FINALLY gotten a hold of the man who wanted to sell him the place and it was certainly about time. He should have the documents on his next business run. Which would happen to be his little pet's first one with him to be exact. Not anywhere special, just the casino floor. Laughing, cheers, and music filled the air within the casino as demons of all kinds gambled their money away or drank themselves drunk. A usual day for the casino staff....Well, almost everyone. The clicking of hooves made their way down the hallway towards the more noisier side of the whole casino. The woman flipped through the many papers piled within her arms. She finally pulled one from the back, scanning her eyes over it before looking up at the person walking next to her smiling nervously. "T-The deed to the winery next door has successfully been obtained like you wanted." The taller male smiled down at her. "Excellent!" He snatched the document from her and smirked down at it. "With this we'll no longer have to rely on cheap black market booze. How much have we left in stock, Pet?" Her ears went back at the nickname, but answered, "I....don't know. I haven't looked yet." He hummed and gave her a look. "Go ask Rouge, that beer bug ought to give you the answer, then get back to me."

Her eyes blinked confused up at him and she rose a brow. "Rouge?"

A sudden realization came over him and he sighed. "Oh, yes! You two haven't properly been introduced yet! Silly me!" From where they were standing he pointed a hand across the giant room where she could barely make out the bar. "Rouge is one of my floor managers but she mostly just handles the many bars and kitchen areas I have around here. You can't miss her really. She really bugs you persay." He chuckled..but sighed again at her still confused face. "She's a bug demon. Green hair, wings- You can't miss her."

"Oh. I see."

"Yes, now be a dear and ask her how much stock we have so I can calculate how soon we can easily use my newly obtained purchase.~" A red claw was extended to pull back a stray gold hair from her face. She visibly flinched at the touch and stopped an her purple eyes darted at him. He only chuckled and leaned forward a little. "You can do that. Can't you, Pet?~" She gulped and managed to not stutter despite the heat in her face. "Of course I can." His hand patter her cheek before retracting back and chuckling. "I thought so.~ Now-" He began walking again with her quickly following behind. "-I must go speak with a very important client. No go find Rouge. She'll give you what you need." "Yes, Sir." He often used nicknames with her and very flirty gestures, but after working for him for a couple months she got used to it....Kinda. He seemed to get a chuckle out of seeing her squirm and those god forbidden squeak sounds she made. Though putting up with his antics was better than fighting for survival on the streets. Even if it meant her hand. They came to the end of the hallway where the loud sounds of music and voices were. Without so much but a side smile at her, he turned to the left and quickly disappeared among the crowd of other demons. She watched after him for a moment, but soon went the opposite way. It wasn't comfortable being around so many possibly dangerous demons, but most were too busy with their games to pay attention to her. The ones that DID she knew stared at her body(or more specifically her exposed leg or horn). She made the mistake of looking into the face of one of her 'admirers' as she walked past. The grimy man visibly smirked at her and licked his fangs.....which made her cringe, duck her head, and pick up her pace. The bar couldn't be far now, right? ....Right! The bar wasn't as crowded as he thought it'd be, but it was still pretty packed. In the middle of it all was the flutter of green wings as the insect demon passed out drinks fast with ease. Years of experience right there. And she blinked. That must've been the Rouge Lou was telling her about. She didn't notice her at first, but (when she got close enough) Rouge smiled in her direction and placed her hands on the counter as she sat down. "Hey there, Fuzzy. You here for a drink?" She gestured to the wide shelves behind her. "We got lots of choices to choose from, so pick your poison." She smiled and took a seat. "N-No. Lou wanted to know how much alcohol was left in stock." Rouge rose a brow in confusion and she remembered that they hadn't been introduced yet. So not one for being rude, she stuck a hand out. "I-I-Im Amalfia. Your coworker? Im sure we hadn't met." She still looked confused before she gave a knowing smile and grabbing her hand. "Oh yeah! I recognize your name from Disease telling me all about you and the big guy spending some time together." She smiled before looking down at the paperwork she held then back to her. "Someone's been busy." She brought her arms up to rest them and the papers on the bar and gave a smile. "It's not that bad. It's certainly better than doing laundry o-or sweeping the floors, b-but Im just here because he wants to know how much stock you all have left." She snorted. "With all the chores he makes ya do, I'm surprised he doesn't dress you up in a mad outfit." Instead of getting the suggestive joke, the unicorn cocked her head to the side in confusion. "Why would he have me do that? I'm pretty sure he already has cleaning staff." "...Never mind." She waved a hand dismissively before leaning off the counter. "You said you wanted to know the booze level. Alright. It'll take me a couple minutes though." "I can wait." "Alright. HEY!" Her head snapped to the right as she shouted. Another demon glared at her from the other side of the bar. "Cover me for a bit. I need something from the back." Rouge left without another word, disappearing through a door between the two shelves of alcohol as the other bartender kept serving the demons that came. Leaving her surrounding by patrons grumbling for their drinks or passed out drunk on the bar. It was fine though. She was usually left alone if she just kept her eyes down and didn't engage with anyone. This wasn't the case though. As she busied herself by flipping through the small stack of papers in her hands, she barely noticed someone sit n the stool next to her, which really wasn't a big deal. It was a free bar after all. What she did notice however was the sudden ever so light feeling of someone touching her leg- "DON'T TOUCH ME!!" Her body reacted far faster than her mouth did. Whipping around towards the danger, her body on high alert from the unwanted invasion of her personal space. Sitting there was the very same demon she'd made the mistake of seeing. Her shout had seemed to catch the attention of some others around her though. The demon smiled and stared down at her like she was a prime steak. Unintentionally, she swallowed and leaned away. She probably looked more scared than she would've liked. "I-I....I don't like strangers touching m-me. Please g-go away." At this, he chuckled and leaned down eye level. "I remember you-" Her eyes visibly widened at this, and her nose wrinkled up. His breath smelt like an unwashed dumpster. He pointed a finger before saying, "Don't you remember me?..It took me a while to figure out where you were after running into me at that d*mmed club. But seeing you on the arm of that rich boy, it didn't take too long after that." She sat there frozen. "I-I...I'm really s-s-sorry, Sir, if you think that. B-But Im sorry."

He leaned his head back in laughter before hissing and leaning closer to her. "You REALLY don't recognize me, do you? I would've thought an empty headed gal like you would've made it somewhere more innocent for that pretty little head of yours. Guess not. Suits me just fine. Wouldn't you say?...Dorothy?"

She absolutely froze. Ice was traveling through her veins and his smile got wider at her absolutely terrified face. "...no." Was all she was able to force out of her terrified form at the rush of her realization and old name hit her harder than a freight train- A sudden shriek cut from her throat as something had grabbed a large fistful of her poor blonde and white hair and pulled her head back. Her hand immediately flew up to the giant hand and began to claw at it to no avail. He somehow got closer to her face. "Y'know...It's been a long time since I last saw you. Thought you still seen the last of me huh?" Her body coursed with pain as her brain screamed for his unwanted touch to go away. To not let it happen again. "Let go of me! Put me down!" Her body thrashed against the iron grip of her captor which made him raise his hand higher, dragging her from her seat. She screamed and started kicking her legs out. The commotion caught the attention of a whole lot of others, but most seemed more entertained by the fight than concerned for her. By this point she thought her head would pop off with how much it hurt. Her kicking had already sent her papers all over the ground below them. "I wonder how much a second owned horse would go for-" Another hand pressed her cheek. "A pure little thing like you would be worth a lo-AAAAHHH!!" The squirming flesh in her mouth tasted horrible, but something told her to keep her teeth clamped down. The demon cursed and pulled against her. Pushing her head back further.

"What THE F*CK are you doing?!" The female voice and the demanding tone behind it was enough to make the male demon stop and look down. By some miracle, Rouge had returned, probably hearing their screams, and was glaring at him with enough bite to put a cobra to shame. Her eyes flashed to her crying, squirming body held up by him for one split second. "....Okay, you burnt cherry lookin' mothaf*cker. You have one second to put Fuzzy down before I shove a bottle up your a$$." "Mind your own f*cking business!" Her jaw's grip had loosened in the few seconds after Rouge's return, so it was easy to finally slip his hand free to point at the much smaller demon and start yelling at her. Which gave her only a few moments to react. It was obvious this guy was physically stronger and wasn't planning on letting her go anytime soon. She sure as h*ll wasn't going back to being his to boss around. Not after so many years of FINALLY getting away. Not having to look over her shoulder, finally enjoying herself for once in her entire existance. She wouldn't go back to that enclosed prison again. So, in her panicked state, there was one very obvious solution- "LOU!!," she shrieked at the top of her lungs. Drowning out any other sound from her brain, "LOU, HELP!!" The tears dulled her vision somewhat so the next moments were a bit blurry, but no one could miss the obvious chair that came flying out of nowhere and collided with him full force. Sending them both to the floor. The sudden release from her hair was a relief compared to the smack to the floor....but it was better than being held in mid air. Her head tingled with dulled pain still, but there was no time to linger on that when a demonic cry and gagging sounds came next to her. Once again her body reacted before her conscious brain did and she sat up and away....and her eyes widened. The demon was the one making the gagging noises and flailing about like a fish out of water. The clawing at his neck directed her to the green rope like appendage firmly wrapped around it. Small red spikes dotted along it's sides. Before another shot out of no where above her making her whimper and duck as another red spiked green rope wrapped around the struggling demon's hand, and another grabbing his other hand. His red snout which didn't look good from the chair colliding with him, was held firmly shut as the green things wrapped him more than a mummy until he could barely move and was dropped to the floor in front of her. Another screech got her attention as well as some others. Her purple eyes widened at who was screeching. "Lou?" The plant demon was transfixed on the still choking demon. A fixture of rage and something she couldn't quite place on his face. He seemed to also be struggling as Cyber was death gripping his waist to hold back the snarling beast. "Lou, STOP! That's enough!" He didn't stop. "LOU!!" He froze. Everything seemed to freeze for those few agonizing moments...before his body slowly began to relax back and he blinked. "......Lou?" His head snapped to the unicorn looking up at him from the ground with a confused gaze....then around at all the patrons still watching- He quickly straightened up, reaching to fix his bowtie and hat, as if it never happened, before snapping his fingers. The vine around the guy's neck loosened and slunk away leaving him hacking and coughing. She let out a loud squeak as more vines wrapped around her suddenly and hoisted her up and over towards the two. There, she was firmly placed next to him and she gladly went behind the plant demon. He rose a brow at the fightened shaking lady as she death dripped his shirt and those purple eyes stared in absolute fear at the man gasping for breath on the floor before he hissed up at them.

"You little b*tch! Hiding behind that stupid fatcat like he's some shield for your petty little behind! You never could be stronger than me could you!? You were always too weak to do anything!!"

Now, he had made a gave mistake. He was willing to just beat him to a pulp and leave him on the streets, after all no one made a sceen in his casino without consequences and he was already in such a foul, but what had just come out of his mouth seemed to make a difference. A hiccup escaped from behind him and he slowly turned his raised brow to the woman now pressing her face to his back, not daring to look up. "Is he...?"

Her whimper was and what he had just said confirmed on just who this man was. Well, well. This day had just gotten interesting, now didn't it? What a stupid, stupid move for this poor soul to make. Lou slowly turned his gaze back to the struggling form of the cursing man in front of him. Oh he knew EXACTLY what to do with him.

"Cyber. Take this lowlife trash to Midnight, and keep him there until I come up." He turned back to the terrorfied female behind him before reaching an arm behind him and pulling her from behind him to his side. "You are coming with me." Cyber gave him an overly confused look with a," Uh. Sure, Boss." She watched silently as Lou led the horrified gal away from the cussing man and watching crowd and without so much as another word, she blankly looked down to the guy trapped in vines and rose a brow as he uselessly dug his grave by cussing her out. With ease she grabbed the vine cocooned man and threw him over her shoulder. Rolling her eyes as he cussed and screamed his way through the crowed. Leaving Rouge there extremely confused to the events that just played out. ".....Da f*ck just happened?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It took a while for him to calm her down from her very obvious panic attack which left her clinging and crying into him for the longest time as he shushed her and attempted to sooth her over like how Midnight would sooth Disease in one of his moments. Eventually she was able to get a hold of herself and just sat there in his grip hiccupping and wiping at her face for a while. When he thought she was able to be steady by herself he finally let go and she didn't make any protests when he did. Just try to pull herself together from the ordeal. Which left him to sigh and finally to go and sit in his chair for a while- He groaned and reached up to rub at his temples. The soft office chair hugged his slumped over body as he racked his brain. A small thump from the desk made him open his eyes and noticed the small white cup that was placed in front of him. The smell of coffee and weed killer filled the air, and on top of it all was the smiling face of the unicorn. "Thank you." He grabbed it before chugging it down half way. She gave him a bigger smile. "I thought you'd want that after the fight back there." He dryly chuckled. Oh, yes. The fight. He honestly didn't know what to think of it all. One moment he was casually talking up one of his more richer clients, alomost sealed the deal too, when the first screams rang out. At first, he didn't pay much attention to it, if there was a fight then the bouncers would take care of it. That's what they were paid for. What he DID pay attention to was the screaming of his name- "LOU!! LOU, HELP!!" You could say he snapped around faster than a bullet. Completely confused to who could've been shouting for him- Until he saw it. The struggling form of Amalfia struggling against a sickly cherry red demon with his hand gripping her hair. What happened next was something he couldn't quite explain. It was almost like someone flipped a switch and red clouded his vision. Though throwing a chair and making a scene in front of his customers was a blur, he would've never done that otherwise. Something his head couldn't wrap around he supposed. The only logical thing he could come to was that he became overly angry at having his pretty little weapon in danger of being taken from him and his power hungry instincts took over for a little bit. What else could it have been? "Yes. Well-" He sat back up bringing the cup with him. "I don't tolerate strangers placing their hands on the woman I intend on marrying. I would advise against going back there anytime soon." "But, my papers-" "I'll send Cyber to retrieve them." He gave the cup a look before glancing back at her. ".....This coffee tastes a bit old. Why don't you go make a new pot?" "Alright. I get the hint. But, Lou-" A Soft hand reached out to gently squeeze his free hand. "I mean it. Thank you." She slowly removed herself from by the desk and made her way over to the doorway. He sat there frozen for what seemed like forever before slowly clenching his free hand. What the h*ll was wrong with him today?! He gave a frustrated growl before reaching up to remove his hat and run those red digits through his blonde locks of his, whatever. He would feel like himself soon again anyways. But he had other business to attend to that he certainly was not going to overlook or leave as a threat to any of his plans.

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He had to wait for her to go to sleep which took a little longer than usually thanks to the mongeral's scare from earlier, but it's nothing some reassurance and warm drink couldn't help. He didn't know why but-...under that calm smile of his anger resurfaced and he gave off a frustrated growl as soon as he left the room and started making his way towards Midnight's lab, which was just a little ways from his dance room. And with his fast pace fueled by the anger in his veins it didn't take long for him to get there. But what first graced his ears was loud muffled mumbles coming from the inside of said lab and his anger started to turn in that direction. The door was pushed open maybe a little more forcefully than he'd like but that didn't matter to him in the moment and he just stood there in the doorway. Rasing a brow at what he was met with. The table Midnight used for....'things' was currently occupied by the struggling red skinned demon, the vines removed for favor of the clamps on the table, Cyber was standing right next to the table looking at him and shrugged. And a little ways from her was a grumpy as ever looking Midnight and a frowning snake flicking his tongue out at the guy...and he just now noticed the mongral had a black eye to match the rope around his mouth.

"..Did I miss something?"

"Eh...The guy got some colorful language and decided to use it on Midnight," she jabbed a thumb behind her at the grumpy looking which. "Disease wasn't too happy let's just say.''

He hummed as he walked into the room, hands behind his back and gave him a calm half lidded look without the smile. Rage burning behind those lidded red eyes of his. The guy glaring at him with absolute hatred behind that gag of his. "...Remove the gag."

Cyber did as she was told without question and with one pull the rope fell from the douchbag's snout. He coughed a few times before glaring up at him. "YOU F*CKING SON OF A B*TCH!! I'LL PLUCK YOUR PETALS AND SNAP YOUR F*CKING STEM YOU TWAT!!"

Lou's face didn't change and instead rolled his eyes. "Simpleton. You all always resort to petty curses and empty threats when you're about to meet your end. Midnight." The witch looked up from..whatever she was currently mixing together and with a sinister smile plastoring itself onto his face, he pointed to the strapped down man. "We found the new volunteer for your projects. Let's hope they prove useful research eh?"

The guy's eyes widened and snapped to the witch who all of a sudden didn't look so grumpy and was staring dead at him with...calculating eyes, before struggling against the table's restraints and glaring back him. "YOU F*CKING B*ST*RD!! LET ME OUT!!"

he hummed and tapped in his in mock thought. "Um...No. You see, you could've scared off one of my plan's assets and I simply cannot have that. So as punishment you get to help Midnight test out some of our other assets for this the small takeover I hope to achieve.~ Isn't that wonderful? Too bad you won't live to see it."

"WHY YOU FU-" The guy's snout was slammed shut by Cyber after Lou nodded to her. With incredible strength, she held his red jaws shut with one hand while looping the rope back around it with the other. Midnight already looked a little better, digging through one of the draws of her desk and pulling out a few potions and things she was eager to use. As for him?...He deserved a good night's sleep after today. He felt oddly satisfied and wanted to leave them to it. Turning on his heel he took a few steps before stopping in the doorway.

"Oh..By the way.'' He looked over his shoulder. Smile and red eyes glowing in the dark. "You missed out on having a remarkible lady by your side. I guess in a way I should really be thanking you. In a sense you pushed her to me and I couldn't be happier.~" Cyber rose a brow again at him happy tone. "But we both know I won't do any of that."

The doors closed behind him and muffled cries cursed him from behind.

All characters except Amalfia belongs to @palettepainter

[gayllamafromspace]

Embrace Your Chaos

(Tissaia De Vries/Reader)

Chapter 7: It's HIGH Time We Made A Friend

It's been weeks since I had last spoken to Tissaia, or rather, since she had spoken to me. I can't say I expected any less. It had become apparent that after our 4 days together, she wanted nothing to do with me. Nothing can be done about that, and nothing will be. She has chosen to still resent me for my mistake, and I don't blame her. So, I avoided her too, as I am now… sitting alone in the dining hall. When I say I'm avoiding her, what I really mean is that I am sitting alone at the table closest to the hall's door. And watching her, can't forget that detail. Not in a creepy way! I'm just occasionally observing what's going on with the other 7 girls. Which, I'd learned their names, through a very embarrassing lesson from the Rectoress. The lesson itself was meant to have been taught on the first day, but the rectoress decided to postpone. The Rectoress's decision to do so made the other girls very irritated with me. To say the least.

There is of course Tissaia, who I am all too familiar with. She was one of the 4 that was actually capable of lifting the rock, while using the flower as a conduit. I had been tempted to make a snarky comment about our time together not being entirely useless, but I decided against it. She hates me enough as it is, I don't think damaging her precious ego would do much good. One of the other girls, who took longer, but was quick to follow mine and Tissaia's lead, is named Margarita. She has lovely blonde hair, and strikingly blue eyes, almost the same shade as Tissaia's, but not nearly as beautiful… is what I would say, if me and said blue eyed brunette weren't currently at odds. Have I made my point? I'm pretty sure I have. Anyways, Margarita - or as she prefers to be called - Rita, is a very interesting character. She clearly has no shame, and somehow she's managed not to make all of the girls hate her. Despite her garish and quite childish behavior. She is actually one of the only girls that hasn't decided that I am a bane of the earth, which I am grateful for.

Roan, with her pale yellowish skin and who's hair is straighter than the stick up Tissaia's ass, has a very unfortunate case of air headedness. She cannot take hints for the life of her, and it is almost intriguing the amount of idiotic blabbering that can come from her before Annita (another one of the girls) covers her mouth. Annita, as previously mentioned, is the sound control of the group over yonder. Her skin is a lovely shade of chocolatey brown, and I would find her effortlessly attractive if it wasn't for her tendency to make the most overly expressive and revolving faces on the continent. Her smile is too wide and very clearly forced, her lips peel back from her teeth a horrifying amount when she does. She has some semblance of intelligence, but her constant need to sneer and wrinkle her nose at the mere sight of me is ridiculous. She does have pretty eyes though, a nice hazel color, leaning more toward brown than green. Her hair is short, nearly to her scalp, and it's black like Roan's.

Then there's Sanota and Veblen. Sanota has auburn hair and brown eyes, her features are soft and round, but her personality is the complete opposite. She's a bitch, from the way she walks to the way she talks, it just screams, "I thrive off of the tears of children." I had attempted to help her during the rock lifting lesson, but she was having none of it. As a result, a few of her fingers withered and died on her left hand. It was truly horrifying. Her once pale skin had turned a disgusting murky gray and black, and I don't think she'll ever be able to use those fingers again. The point is though, she is so rude and unaccepting of help from anyone, that it's self-destructive. Quite literally. I would almost feel bad for her, if she wasn't so cruel to me, and poor Veblen.

She is younger than me by about 2 years, being around 14. She is actually a very sweet girl, she's quiet and respectful. But she worships the ground that Sanota walks on. Sanota is very rude to her, calls her names, pushes her around. Veblen had actually tried to talk to me once and Sonata was quick to grab her by her light brown hair and drag her away. The girl was on the verge of tears. But with Sanota's cruelty, she also gets protection. From what? Well, that would be from Tissaia's annoyance, Rita's bad habits, Roan's idiotic choices of coversation, and Annita's terrifying facial expressions. To Veblen, Sonata is a new older sister and guardian angel - obviously - to literally anybody else, Sanota is using her for menial tasks and as a servant. It's infuriating, but I can understand why. The Rectoress gives us a LOT of pointless work and stuff that really could be avoided, but the rest of us suck it up and just do it. Not push it on a weaker, easily manipulated, child. Well… she's not a child, but my point still stands!

Finally, there's Lida. Lida is huge, I mean, HUGE. She's around five foot ten and her body is just muscle. If it weren't for her shoulder length blonde hair and shockingly feminine voice, I would think she was some sort of unisex goddess. She has been surprisingly open about her life, she was raised on a farm and her mother died before she could bear any sons. Her father was so in love with his deceased wife that he couldn't remarry and try for one, so he raised his daughter like he would have raised his son. The result is mouth wateringly delicious, but she's not really my type. Very attractive in her own right, but just not for me. Maybe if I get on her good side, she could help me get a little more fit? Highly unlikely. She's a follower, and as a follower, she's going to follow the rest of the girls in hating me. Which, I don't really care anymore, I've got me.

It's lonely, I can pretend all I like, but it sucks. The only person who's actually bothered to spend the faintest bit of time on me since the situation Tissaia ended was Gwendolyn. The servant woman. She's very sweet, and has been very supportive. A part of me wants to wish and hope that she is secretly my aunt and that she can whisk me away from this place forever. That is impossible, so outrageously optimistic that it almost makes me want to cry in frustration. Despite this though, she has been a beacon of light over the past few weeks, and I couldn't be more thankful. It's actually because of her, that what I lack in friends my age, I have gained friends her age. Much of the staff knows me by name, and occasionally I'll be visited by the odd maid who was passing by, or a cook who wanted me to try a new recipe of theirs. The company has been tremendous, but lacking. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy talking to them all and learning about their lives and stories of adventure from the few that have actually been out on the world to explore. But I want to bond with someone my age, and not for diplomatic reasons like I had before coming to Aretuza. So that I can genuinely enjoy the time I spend with another person, so we can cause trouble and talk about the people we like. Someone I could come out too if I trust them enough.

I thought I could get that from Tissaia, but she clearly has other plans. I'm hoping she forgets about my sexuality, I should have lied. I would have lied, if I'd known this is how we would end up. Me sitting at a table as far away from her, her new friends, and everyone else in the Hal as possible. While I watch her laugh from afar, and Margarita gets out of her seat with her tray and leaves the table, walking over towards me. Wait a minute! Why is she coming over here? Did she see me starring, am I about to get yelled at? I wasn't trying to stare, I was just… yes I was staring, but it wasn't in a bad way. I'm an idiot, what should I do? She's almost here. Fuck, damn it. I'm looking down, I'm going to look down at my tray and pick at my food while I wait for the ensuing lecture.

But it never comes. I see her place her tray down right in front of me and plop downright there. Timidly, I look up. Never being this close to her before, I suddenly notice so much. Her eyes are nothing like Tissaia's, actually, they're so much brighter and filled with mischief. Tissaia's eyes are more gray in comparison, not like it matters. Margarita's nose is ever so slightly crooked toward the left, and her lips are full. She is very attractive, shockingly so. On her plump lips, is a grin riddled with trouble and, surprisingly, friendliness. She doesn't seem all too abashed by my observation of her, she actually seems to be thriving off the attention, which is interesting. She, obviously, had no problem sizing me up too, and it's when her grin widens that our akward and strange silence is finally interrupted.

"So, (Y/N), are you having fun over here by yourself?" She says, taking a bite of the food on her plate. I hesitate, suspicious of her reasons for being over here.

"No, actually. It's quite boring." I say, looking around the hall. The girls at Margarita's former table are all looking over at us with confused faces, and I must say, I am just as confused. My confusion of course is dissipated when she speaks again.

"It can't be more boring than over there. They keep yapping about how the Rectoress is so powerful and assignments blah blah blah." She says emphasizing her words by waving her fork around. "You though," She points the fork at me.

"You seem like much more entertaining company to keep." She finishes her sentence by stabbing a piece of her pork and bringing it to her mouth to chew slowly. I had long since finished my food, but my glass was still half full, so I took a sip before answering. The juice inside is tart and dries my mouth some once I've swallowed it. Very disappointing.

"And what makes you think that, Margarita Laux-Antille." I say, opting to use her full name for formal and intimidation purposes. She swallows her bite of pork before giving me a devilish smirk. She places down her fork and puts her elbows on the table, folding her hands together under her chin.

"I know a fellow troublemaker when I see one, and seeing as how Tissaia has expressed a LOT about how much of one you are, I think you and I will get along perfectly." She says. Well… guess there's no arguing against that. I was about to try, but before I could open my mouth, she reached her hand out for me to shake.

"Just call me Rita, there's no need for all that fancy shit, especially since we're now friends." She says as I take her hand and shake it. I look her in the eye with my brows furrowed.

"I never said we were friends." I said, a bit of amusement playing on her face and mine. She stands up, smiling down at me.

"Maybe not yet…" she says cryptidly, "meet me in my room in 2 hours. It's the room at the end of your hall." And with that, she leaves the dinning hall and leaves me alone to my thoughts. I'm smiling, I know I am. Have I really just made a friend? Perhaps. She showed no intention of hurting me, so meeting her later shouldn't be too bad of a plan right? I will of course tell Gwen, for safety reasons, if she doesn't see me in the morning to help with breakfast she'll need to come looking. I know she will, she cares about me. If things do go wrong and it is a trap, then I can just run out and hide in my room for the rest of the night.otherwise, things should be nice and calm.

 

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Things were certainly NOT calm. Not in the slightest. Upon arriving at her room, I was very quickly greeted with smoke and the undeniable scent of alcohol. Why? Well because miss Margarita Laux-Antille was smoking a blunt of unknown origin and had a bottle of wine held firm in her hand. She clearly had just begun… whatever this is. But, I at least knew that she wasn't trying to kill me. On purpose. I lasted maybe 2 minutes before the temptation to join her was too much, she was incredibly adamant about me joining her in her little party, and who am I to decline. So, the night went from confusing to so irrevocably clear that I feel like an idiot for questioning her intentions before. The other girls, teacher's pets and people pleasers that they are, had refused to join Rita in her fun multiple times. That's ridiculous! Who in their right mind would give up the chance to get high out of your mind and three sheets to the wind with this complete wack job? Rita is a riot. She is completely unabashed by literally everything, she doesn't give a damn, and her sense of humor is absolutely filthy. She is the BEST person you could ever get into trouble with.

So much so, that maybe one joint and four swigs of wine in, and I'm agreeing to steal a frog from one of the many classrooms and put the little fucker in Roan's room. That task was not so horrible. Finding out where the frogs were was a problem, me and Rita had to drunkenly wonder about for hours trying to find out which room they were in. Everything was moving and all the rooms started to look the same. By some miracle, no one was patrolling this hall, for now anyway. Being drunk and completely dumbasses at the moment, we'd forgotten to close all of the doors that we opened. We don't care, we have a goal. At one point Rita had tugged on my dress and drug me into one of the rooms. It was decidedly NOT a classroom. It was a winery, how did we find it? We shall never know, but, it's location is now burned within our brains and we shall forever find it from this day forth.

The room in itself is massive, wall to wall are shelves of unopened bottles of wine and other random alcohols that are placed in some sort of order. That order does not matter to us intoxicated teenagers, because we are drunk… and teenagers. It's not rocket science the point is, we have been introduced to a treasure trove of liquid courage, and the first thing we're going to do is steal as much as we possibly can and hide it everywhere. So, our side quest begins. Take as much rum, brandy, wine, jack, scotch, vodka, and whatever else is in there and carry it in our skirts like kangaroo pouches. Our legs are indecently exposed, and we do not care, we have loot. Said loot is loud, which of course means that we should shush it. Shushing is actually more loud and pointless, but we do it anyway. Why? Because our new babies are being loud and they need to shut up. They do not shut up, not until we have all but one bottle each of it. Out of maybe 20 bottles, 2 are unhidden.

It is at this point that we have finally found the classrooms. So, after deciding to hide the last two bottles in my room tomorrow, we go and save a frog from it's doom. A very magical doom. Said frog is a grayish brown color and very cute. It's eyes are gold. He has been dictated a boy by Rita dearest, and his name is now Fredrick. Fredrick the frog, who will soon be acquainted with Roan. Roan, with her black hair and eyes. Roan, who talks too much and gets on Rita's nerves. Roan, who has insulted Tissaia on multiple occasions unknowingly.

"Roan did what!?" I whisper-yell at Rita. Rita, is amused, her face cracking into a manic and almost teasing grin.

"Yeah (Y/N)," she says smoothly, wrapping an arm around me and leaning against my shoulder, my already imparted balance worsening with her added weight and swaying. I asked her what Roan said, ignoring the slight tremor of anger I feel. It's nothing, I'm just mad that I wasn't the one who did it.

"Oh, Roan told her that she was an…. Uptight hormonal mess, " Rita hesitates, trying to remember through her haze. "With a serious neatness problem?" She is clearly unsure of her answer, but I have to laugh. The insult itself was funny, but clearly not meant as an insult. It was an observation that Roan, being her, couldn't keep to herself. My laughter is quickly joined by Rita's, both of us covering each other's mouths and shushing one another.We are nearly to Roan's room, the familiar hall with all of our rooms just around the next corner.

"Tissaia must have been mad," I said, chuckling lightly. Rita looks at me like I'm an idiot, I probably am.

"Mad? She wasn't just mad. She was livid, she stormed out of the hall without a word to anyone, it was fantastic…. But disappointing, Roan needs to shut up." She says, round the corner with me and starting to lead the way to Roan's room.

"Well, maybe sir Fredrick the fierce can teach her some manners?" I offer, looking down at Fredrick and letting him softly on his head. Rita shakes her head and stops in front of a door, slowly opening it. I frown, knowing that now I must let my dear friend Fredrick the frog go. Telling him goodbye, I hand him reluctantly to Rita. She goes into the room, leaving me to do a horrible job to keep a lookout.

Roan was fast asleep of course, because no one is supposed to be awake. Me and Rita giggle as quietly as possible while leaving Roan's room. The deed has been done, and what a wonderful morning it is. It's maybe…. Two in the morning? It's hard to keep track of time. They get caught of course, but by one of my servant friends, they look at the two of us, smile, wink, and carry on their way. The rest of the short trek to Rita's room is excruciatingly difficult because of the swaying, leaning, stumbling, and quiet chuckling we're doing.

When we have finally made it back to Rita's room, it's like the floodgates have been busted open, because the second that door closed we were on the floor laughing like buffoons. Rita, who has decided the night is not yet over, takes yet another swig of wine and passes it to me. It's warm, and grape flavored. I can understand why people would drink wine all the time at dinner parties, it's a delight! The way it makes you feel is amazing. I'm happy and everything is so funny, my eyes are kind of tired, but I'm not sleepy. I crawl over to Rita and grab her hand, grinning like an idiot.

"You are… my best friend…" I say, slurring slightly and shaking my head. Rita rolls over on top of me and hugs me, nuzzling into my chest. Her hair tickles my nose, so I blow it outta my face and wrap my arms around her.

"Besties… let's give those girls hell… hm?" She says drowsily, looking up at me and blinking slowly. With an unreasonably loud laugh and a dopey grin, I nod in agreement. She lays her head back down, sprawled on top of me. She's not exactly light, but I don't feel like moving her, so I let her lie there. Eventually she starts to snore, it's annoying, but I'm too drunk to care. So, not so long after her, I slowly begin to drift off… so begins the most chaotic and troublesome friendship in all of Aretuza. The Rectoress wanted chaos… well, here it is.

[iwhumpyou]

if this is too specific feel free to ignore this ask but could you write something where character A’s friends know that A is going through something really bad (like being tortured or something) and go to help them only to see that what they were imagining A going through wasn’t even close to what was actually going on? (also, I love your whumpfics, especially Bastard and Kyran! you’re an amazing writer!)

I’m glad you’re enjoying my whumpfic! 😍💖

This is a bit tamer than outright torture, but the shape of the request fit the Muzzle arc and I thought I’d give it a try!

Masterlist.  Janiya.

Part 2.

~#~#~#~#~#~

“How do we know they even have Janiya?” Ivy asked, voice level but cold.  “They certainly haven’t shown us any proof.”

“We tried calling Janiya,” Gavin reminded her, watching as the wet trees were replaced with gray-washed buildings.  “She didn’t pick up.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Ash said, still grumbling in the back seat.

Ash had been the one to voice it, back when they got the call, after contacting Janiya had failed, after they were forced to accept that perhaps the Rainier pack was telling the truth. Janiya wasn’t pack.  Not anymore.  They had no obligation to go after her, though Ash had put it more crudely than that.

Gavin had glared at him, and the rest of the pack with flinty eyes.  It was their fault that Janiya was in trouble.  Perhaps they didn’t have a duty to save her, but it was still the right thing to do.

And besides, the Rainier pack clearly needed a lesson in how to take no for an answer.

“She should’ve been more careful,” Rita said as they pulled into the deserted parking lot of the – at first glance – abandoned warehouse.  “She never learns her lessons.”

It wasn’t an unfair claim. Janiya had a predilection for ignoring safety and caution and approaching every problem like it could be beaten by dry insults and condescending sneers.  She’d certainly sharpened her tongue like others sharpened claws.

It would have served her well as a lawyer.  A reporter. It did not serve her well in the supernatural world.

“Alpha Rainier,” Gavin said coolly, as they were met at the entrance by a hulking werewolf.  She was flanked by a woman whose smile made him uneasy and a human man with shadows crawling over his body.  “If you think that hostages have made me more amenable to your treaty, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Alpha Lake,” Robin Rainier smiled at him.  “I merely wanted the pleasure of your company.  You’re a hard man to pin down.  Don’t worry, your pack-member will be returned to you alive.”

“Janiya is no longer a member of my pack,” Gavin said levelly.

Rainier raised an eyebrow, a mocking smile playing about her lips.  The woman by her side looked gleeful.  “Then why have you come all this way?” she asked, her eyes alight with satisfaction.

“Because I don’t hate you enough to call the hunters,” Gavin said calmly.  Rainier stopped smiling.  The woman looked sour.  And the shadows, for an instant, seemed darker.  “That can change.  Give me Janiya, and never contact me again.  I don’t want a treaty with your pack, and that is my final decision.” 

Rainier looked like she was grinding her teeth.  Bringing in the hunters was a cheap blow, but by their laws, Janiya was a human and not affiliated with any pack.  Kidnapping her was a clear excuse to go after the Rainier pack, and they hadn’t endeared themselves to anyone in the area.

The woman was casting glances at the empty warehouses around them, as if expecting to see the flashes of guns, and the shadows had started to flicker around them, though the human did not meet anyone’s gaze.

“You will regret this,” Rainier said quietly, “You forced my hand once.  You will not like the second time.”

“I don’t appreciate being blackmailed,” Gavin said pleasantly, “You seem to think that showing up and bullying your way through every obstacle is a sound strategy.  This isn’t the South, Alpha Rainier.  The northern packs dislike outsiders, and we don’t play nice.”

Rainier nodded to her second, who paused to shoot them all a nasty glare before vanishing into the building. “Rome didn’t become an empire by playing nice,” Rainier said, turning away.

“Yeah, and Caesar was stabbed twenty-three times for it,” Rita said under her breath, but well within werewolf hearing.  Rainier stilled for a beat, before walking away, the human with the shadows following her.

Ivy, however, was staring into the darkness, the faintest flicker of worry on her face.  “What’s wrong?” Gavin muttered.

“Alive,” Ivy said, so quiet her lips barely moved, “Not unharmed.”

A ripple of unease spread through the small group Gavin had taken with him.

“Someone as power-obsessed as Rainier isn’t going to see the worth in harming a human,” Ash said, but his tone wasn’t very confident.

“Janiya has a talent for pissing people off,” Rita countered darkly, but all of them fell silent once they heard footsteps again.

Rainier hadn’t come back. Her second was the only one that came into view, dragging a curiously wet Janiya behind her and –

That was a muzzle.

Behind Gavin, Ash had gone dangerously still.

Janiya’s eyes flashed as she was unceremoniously hauled out of the warehouse and pushed towards them – she managed to keep her balance to avoid spilling to her knees at their feet, but Gavin didn’t need to see her entire face to imagine the rest of her vicious scowl.  The woman merely gave them a teeth-bared glare before disappearing back into the warehouse.

Gavin supposed they thought it was funny, to put a muzzle on a human.  As so many hunters had put them on werewolves.

“Let’s go,” he said, turning on his heel.  Ivy grabbed Janiya – her wrists were tied behind her back, and werewolf claws sliced through them easily – and tugged her towards the car.  Ash replaced Ivy in the front seat, his gaze fixed ahead and his hands curled into fists as he struggled to breathe normally, and Gavin spared him half a glance before starting the car.

Janiya was sandwiched between Rita and Ivy and in the rearview mirror he can see her struggling with the buckles on the sides of the muzzle.

“You can do that when we get home,” he said flatly, and was entirely unsurprised when Janiya ignored him.

She was making distressing huffs of air and Gavin’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as he pressed on the accelerator.  Ash was as still as a statue, and about as pale.  It wasn’t far back to their home – the Rainier pack had been lurking at the edge of their territory for days now – but every second felt it had been stretched.

“Oh, for moon’s sake,” Rita finally snapped, pushing Janiya’s hands away from the buckle and undoing the thing herself, “Are you really that impatient to –”

The sharp scent of blood filled the car.

“Rita,” Gavin said with a calm he did not feel, “What’s going on?”

There was no answer. He spared a glance to the rearview mirror – Rita and Ivy were exchanging wide-eyed glances.

“Rita,” Gavin started, his tone slipping into warning.

“Nothing,” Rita cut him off, her voice high, “Just – just a little more complicated to remove than I thought.  It’s fine.  We’re handling it.”

Gavin cast another glance, but Ivy had wedged herself onto the center console, neatly blocking his view of the backseat.

“Ivy, what are you doing?” Ash had twisted, trying to peer past her, but she moved with him, her face hard.

“We don’t need you wolfing out in the car,” Ivy said quietly, “Eyes on the road, Ash.”

Ash scowled.  “Rita, if it’s too complicated it can wait until we get home,” Gavin said.

“It’s not too complicated,” Rita responded immediately.

“I can smell blood,” Gavin said flatly.  There was no response.  Gavin sighed, “I’m driving as fast as I can, we’ll be home soon.”

Soon, it transpired, was an inadequate measure of time.  By the time Gavin had parked, Ash’s thrumming tension was suffocating, Ivy’s carefully blank expression was fracturing around the eyes, and Rita’s muttered rambling had devolved into curses, and then silence.  Janiya’s breathing grew more labored by the minute.

The others spilled from the house before they’d even stopped, and Ash jerked the door open to take several steps away from the car and get ahold of himself.  Gavin eyed him, debating over whether or not to approach, but decided to get rid of the source before attempting to deal with its effects. 

“What’s wrong?” he said tiredly, rounding the car to where Rita was glowering at the muzzle – a clunky thing made of metal, heavy enough that Janiya was having difficulty holding it to her jaw.  The buckles and belts seemed to have been loosened, and Gavin didn’t understand what the problem –

Janiya’s fingers shifted, and the scent of blood was fresh.

“It’s latched onto her face,” Rita said softly.

Gavin stilled.  Ivy’s face was pinched, Rita’s drawn and worried, and Janiya’s narrowed eyes couldn’t hide their watery sheen.

“We’ll do this in the house,” he said instead of cursing.  The murmurs died to a sudden hush as Janiya got out of the car, and her narrow-eyed glare made it extremely clear what she would’ve said, if her mouth had been free.

But soon they were on the couch – Janiya perched on the edge, her eyes darting around the room like this hadn’t been her home once too – and Gavin took a seat to study the thing more closely.

He could see where metal pincers latched through her skin, turning it red and inflamed, and through some miming got Janiya to point out the locations of all of them – one on each cheekbone, four trailing down to her jaw, one at her chin, and four arrayed around her lips.  It was heavy, straining at the skin if it wasn’t held up, and the roughshod design didn’t reveal a way of removing the thing.

“There are a couple of buttons on it,” Rita said, hovering nervously, “I tried them all, but nothing worked.”

“There must be a way to get it…off…”  Kai’s words trailed off as Ash entered the room.

His movements were fluid, but Gavin wasn’t the only one who saw the sharp edges as everyone backed away to clear Ash’s path.  The man crouched in front of Janiya – she flinched back, but he didn’t even seem to notice.

Ash examined the muzzle, careful fingers turning Janiya’s head to look at it from all sides and tap on the metal.  It covered nearly her whole face, fitting inelegantly over her nose and just under her eyes to extend to her ears.  Janiya’s expression – what little he could see of it – was definitely a glare, but he didn’t have to be a werewolf to tell that her heart was pounding. 

“It’s Raklive make,” Ash said finally.  There was a chorus of hisses around the room.

“Do you know how to remove it?” Gavin asked, careful to keep his voice level.  Ash was still inspecting the muzzle carefully, but a part of his expression was far, far away from here.

“It can’t be removed,” Ash said, straightening.  The look on his face wasn’t pity.  It was colder than that.  “They didn’t design their toys to have an off switch.” 

There was a long, shifting silence before Darin worked up the nerve.  “How did you get yours off?” he asked softly.

Ash looked at him, and then at Janiya before he pressed a hand to his cheek in an apparent unconscious gesture.

“I ripped it off,” he rasped, before he turned on his heel and walked out.

Janiya’s narrowed eyes had been replacing with wide ones, her heart rate even faster.  She curled her hands around the muzzle like she was afraid they were going to tear it from her face.

~#~

Part 4.

[justicebled]

" leave me alone ! " // from rita <3 / @bonescribes​

“ i’ve had just about enough of this stunt you’re pullin’. “ 

it’s a snap. harsh and merciless.  while his grip on her arm as he inspected her wound; perhaps something she’d been nursing in private in her obssessive level of research that had picked up especially since the emergency leave at dahngrest, the entelexeia who had condemned estelle . . . she was pushing herself too far. normally he wouldn’t coddle people who had to figure it out themselves, but she wasn’t by herself. she had everyone. 

..she had him.

but yuri’s temper is at its limit after weeks of this behavior.  finely composed as he is in demeanor usually; cool and unflappable. but this is a baritone snarl that escapes the way a predator encircles his prey. not like the usual mien; eerily done in the deadliest of situations. but now he’s caught her limping away; he has no intentions of letting her go. anyone knew that once yuri pursued anything he never relented. images of ragou’s murder flash through his mind; a burden still tightly kept locked inside his chest; a future sacrificed for the sake of others and the enactment of true justice.  

                                  “ stop being stupid. “ 

he hisses in her ear; turning her to face him with a small measure of fierce authority; careful of her tiny frame even in his wildness, after lying about caring about her to judith in ghasfarost, it seems utterly pointless playing the unflappable man who didn’t care when he cared more than anyone much less the exasperated  babysitter now. the unlikely leader who felt more at times like a big brother of reckless kids. not that he had room to even talk. 

“ i’d leave you alone if you were alone. but you aren’t. you’re in a group so quit being a brat. this isn’t about you anymore so think of how you’re endangering others. endangering your idiot self. “ his eyes are dark as a pit; sparks of violet fire flaring but otherwise his mien darkens in anger. he knows his words are harsh, even cruel, but he can’t stop, there was no point in gentle, falsehoods in the face of brutal and faithful truth or he wouldn’t care at all. 

and he did. he cared too much. without realizing rita was one of them.

at this point rita would kill herself with either the formula she kept mumbling about with black-circled eyes or get them killed by how close she kept skirting and breaking formation, still thinking it was only her in the group. 

“ you want to help estelle? i get it. you think we all don’t?! that’s a load of shit. what you’re doing right now is selfish! you’re endangering the entire group by not doing your damn part and thinking you can operate like you did before you ever met her or me, or karol or anyone!  “ another baritone hiss echoes; concern despite his fury glinting like sparks in his eyes. he pulls her sleeve back to see the myriad gashes. 

dark orchid-violet shrouds his gaze; dark and furious and echoing snarl silenced. a long, long,  pause. voice eerily cold and calculated, almost emotionless if not for the seething edge underneath. 

“ you aren’t doing anything for her like this, you hear that? nothing. you as you are right now are making things worse. if she saw how you were right now you honestly think she’d be happy? she’d be suffering even more! i don’t give a damn what you think about me, i know it ain’t much, and that’s fine, resent me all you want,  but i’m not having you work yourself or endanger the group either way. 

we’re getting you treated. you aren’t considering anyone! if you were acting on your own i’d leave you alone just fine, trust me! i’m also not gonna let you sit here no matter how smart you are and still somehow be so damn stupid. “ 

he knows his words hurt; pierce the way his sword cleaved magistrate ragou into the river. but they’re words she needs to hear. 

“ if you want to be left alone you know the answer to that more than anyone. you make yourself alone. that what you want? don’t act like you don’t smile and laugh with the rest of us. unless you’re planning on hightailing it, get your shit together rita.“ 

it’s frosty and brutal as he looks down at her; the hidden warmth and amusement twinkling often in his eyes hidden by a vestige of concerned frustration and deadly, finally unleashed anger for her sake and the others. especially hers. how it had come to this, he didn’t know. how he’d come to care, he didn’t know either.

rita for all her stubbornness and brilliance in equal measures, her callous nature, her hidden kind side, her willfulness so similar to a boy in the lower quarter with teeth like a wolf’s easily at an early age... 

this was enough.

he doesn’t brook to her how tired he sounds inside. how it feels like she just wants him to give up on her when he can’t.  but he won’t. if only out of defiance he won’t. he doesn’t even know why he gives a damn, but for some reason he does and that bleeding heart that has no concept of its own long held wounds before others’ pain continues to bleed anyway. 

tugging on her hand lightly but with a vice-grip; knowing full well she could burn that arm; yuri drags her with a darkened visage that is oddly...frightening towards his room. 

“ i’m bandaging it myself. estelle, karol especially don’t deserve to see what you’re doing to yourself. and hate me all you want, but you need to hear it: what you’re doing to everyone else.  “  what you’re doing to me, too.

turning his back but not once relinquishing his iron grip he thinks in equal measures after finally losing his temper and equal measures how the idea of rita not being there bothers him to the point of annoyance he finds himself good at burying himself. he always has. 

with a sharp click of his door at the inn; he seems to scour her entirely with those darkened eyes; like burning coals where they otherwise were a dark silver-grey; tinged in purple like his hair. there is nothing comforting about it. 

“ sit down rita.“ it’s cold and emotionless as he reaches into his small bag and begins to fish for bandages. she wanted to make this a struggle? 

challenge accepted.

so be it. as long as she was alive...

................he really didn’t give a damn. 

                                 he was the big bad wolf, right?

[thatesqcrush]

Mr. In Between, Ch. 3

Rafael Barba x Reader.Brief mentions of Rafael Barba x Olivia Benson. Prompt inspired by @sweetsummertime99: “ I was watching friends and it was the episode where Ross writes the pro/con list for Rachel and Emily. I’d like to see if someone would write the same kind of scenario not with a waitress but other attributes. Rafael Barba x Female Reader where Rafael writes the list and the reader finds it. Possibly comparing to Olivia?”

CW: angst, language

AN: Special thanks to @melsquared79 for helping me proof and bounce ideas!

Tags: @madpanda75 @ottosuricato @delia26 @dreila03 @sass-and-suspenders @glimmerglittergirl @melsquared79 @mommakat32 @garturbo @southern-magnolia @niyashell @tropes-and-tales @imjustreallynosy @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @sweetsummertime99 @evee87 @scarletsoldierrr @kscarlett1 @cesarofangirl78 - anyone else just ask.

The season came and changed the time. The winter wind howled fiercely outside your apartment window while snowflakes gently fluttered to the ground. You swallowed some generic acetaminophen and chased it with alka-seltzer in an attempt to quell your hangover.

You walked over to the naked man in your bed whose name you didn’t care to learn. Your apartment reeked of alcohol, sex, and cigarettes. It was nauseating and your stomach churned.

“Wake up,” you replied sternly, nudging him with your foot. The man stretched, turning over to face you. “Hey doll,” he replied, with a leer. “Last night was fun.”

You grabbed his clothes which were lying in a heap in the corner and tossed them onto his bare chest. “I am going to take a shower. You better be gone by the time I get out.”

You made your way to the bathroom and locked the door behind you. You felt relief when you heard the door to your apartment shut moments later. Certain you were alone, you began to cry.

To your disappointment, Rafael heeded your advice and didn’t reach out any further. You wondered if you were important to him after all.

In the immediate aftermath, you walked around in a haze. To numb the pain you felt, you drowned yourself in work during the day. You even made yourself available to the other partners at the firm you were at. Your billable hours increased exponentially. However, at night, and especially the weekends, you drank your paycheck.

On more than one occasion, as you recently demonstrated, you entangled with random strangers who for a brief moment in time made you feel wanted and desired. They made you feel like an object to crave; something you always wanted with Rafael. You always hated yourself after. You felt greasy, cheap and easy. But you were devastatingly heartbroken.

You would swear after every drunken hookup, there would be no more - that would be the last one. But you knew you were lying to yourself. The names were never important - just the brief moments of pleasure - you just wanted to forget - and as the orgasms washed over you, you imagined it was Rafael who you were with.

—

Rafael threw himself into his work as well. It was the one coping mechanism he could easily rely on. Work was always there, like clockwork.

Part of his brain reasoned he should move from sex crimes to another unit in the D.A.’s office. Anyone else would have called him a masochist for continuing to work with Olivia and the SVU squad after.

Rafael was the utmost professional - and prided himself on that. So when the SVU squad barged into his office, he acted as if he were completely unfazed by Olivia in the room.

“Detectives,” he acknowledged. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Olivia gave a thin lipped smile, which was accompanied by a roll of her eyes, of which Rafael didn’t miss a beat of. Carisi launched into the details of their most recent case, providing reasons for their need for warrants. Rafael nodded along for good measure, but he had effectively tuned Carisi out.

Taking a sip of his coffee which had grown cold, Rafael waved Carisi off. “Okay, okay, I’ve heard enough. I’ll get your warrants. Now if you don’t mind, I have to get back to trial prep.”

The squad shuffled slowly out of Rafael’s office. Olivia hung back, and she turned to face Rafael. “It’s good to see you as always Rafael.”

“Likewise Olivia,” Rafael replied.

“I do miss you - us,” Olivia continued, pushing back her hair. She approached Rafael, who was now standing by his coffee maker pouring himself a fresh cup. Rafael shook his head and sat back down at his desk.

Olivia sighed and made her way towards the door. She pivoted, turning to face Rafael eye to eye, and waved her arm around. “Just so you know, I know you’ll say you’re fine - and that may work with this office and the rest of the squad - but not me. You don’t know how bad of an actor you are. It’s obvious being dumped has affected you.”

Rafael swallowed hard. “I—“

Olivia gave Rafael a small, patronizing smile, before she headed out the door.

Rafael slammed his pen down in frustration. Huffing, he began gathering his documents and stuffing them into his attache. He barked at Carmen, advising her to clear his schedule and hold his calls. Almost immediately Rafael felt guilty for snapping at Carmen and vowed to take her to lunch to make up for it; he also felt guilty for allowing Olivia to get to him the way she did.

—

Rafael tried to focus on his upcoming trial as he nursed his scotch.

“Ahem,” a voice interrupted his thoughts. Rafael sighed and turned around. He groaned at the sight of Rita Calhoun.

“Counselor,” Rita greeted, setting her purse down at the bar and taking the seat next to Rafael. “Am I interrupting?” The bartender approached. “I’ll have a glass of Merlot, thanks.”

“You are,” Rafael snapped. “If you recall, we have a trial in two days.” Rafael swallowed the remnants of his drink, appreciating the burn down his throat. He snapped his fingers at the bartender and motioned for a refill.

“I’m here for that reason. Let’s play make a deal,” Rita, continues ignoring his comment. “Put my drink on his tab,” she winked.

Rafael sighed once more. “The people aren’t interested in any deals-your client is a sadistic rapist who assaulted three women.” He rubbed his face in exasperation. Rita opened her mouth to make another crack, when she noticed how worn Rafael appeared.

“Rafael, are you okay?” Rita asked, concerned.

Rafael chuckled low, and gave a small half smile. “Like you give a shit.” He took a sip of his refilled drink, and let the alcohol swish around in his mouth before swallowing. Rita smacked Rafael’s arm in response.

Aggravated, Rafael stood up and gathered his camel colored wool coat. He wrapped his red scarf around his neck before reaching into his wallet and throwing a couple of bills onto the bar. “I’ll see you later,” he replied before reaching to pop an olive in his mouth.

Rita followed Rafael as he exited Forlini’s, throwing on her coat. She followed behind him, her heels clicking against the pavement. “Would you just wait Rafael!”

Rafael turned around. He shivered as a gust of wind blew through. “What is it Rita?”

Rita closed her own coat tighter. “Rafael, I know we don’t get along when we are opposing counsel, but at the end of the day, you are still my friend from Harvard who helped me ace my constitutional law final.”

Rafael didn’t reply, but gave a curt nod. “Come on,” Rita replied linking her arm with his. “Let’s go back to my office.”

Rafael released his pent up emotions about the breakup to Rita as they walked side by side.

“You should move on Rafael. This isn’t healthy. You deserve to be happy,” Rita leveled with him. “I may know someone.”

“God damnit Rita, I don’t want anyone else but her,” Rafael snapped.

“Then you need to talk to her,” Rita replied. They stopped at the intersection, waiting for the light to change.

“She — “ Rafael began but he stopped short. From a distance he could see it was you crossing the street. Your head was hung low, your arms wrapped around you tightly. You hadn’t noticed him - yet.

You suddenly materialized in front of him. “Rafael,” you replied softly. “Hi.” You looked at him, then at Rita, and then at their linked arms.

Rafael followed your eyes and realized it must have looked like if it was more than just two friends walking. Rafael jumped and unlinked his arm. “Hi - this is my colleague, Rita. She’s opposing counsel but we went to law school together.”

Rita shook your hand and you gave her a small smile.

“How have you been?” Rafael asked but he knew the answer almost immediately. You looked exhausted — your skin was sallow, you had bags under your eyes and your normally shiny hair had lost its bounce and luster.

You frowned, unsure as to how to answer, so you didn’t. “I have to get going. It was nice to see you - and it was nice to meet you. Take care.”

And with that, you were gone, running into the adjacent the subway entrance, without so much as a glance behind.

“Well, that was sufficiently awkward,” Rita quipped.

“Tell me about it,” Rafael grumbled.

—

When you saw Rafael, your heart ached in your chest. You knew he was handsome, but you nearly forgot how strikingly handsome he was.

You wished you could just go back to the way things were. You wished you had never bothered to get the WiFi that night. You closed your eyes as you recounted him telling you were the one for him at the gala.

Despite being in the subway, you still had an internet connection on your phone. Slipping on your headphones, you played some music as the train lurched through the station.

Your heart racing in your chest, you opened up your messages and began to type.

{Y/N, 3:15 PM} Hi. It really was nice seeing you. Can we talk?

You hovered over the send button. You chewed on your bottom lip. Just as you were about to hit send, your brain took over for your heart, and you deleted the text altogether. Instead, you focused on the blur of the station as your train hit full speed.

—

Eventually Rafael went home. He removed his suit, hanging it neatly in his closet. He dug out a pair of well worn Harvard sweatpants and slipped them.

Pouring himself a drink, he sat cross legged in his bed and turned on his iPad. He opened the notes app, and scrolled through until he found the list.

He read through each one. And then re-read the list. Opening up a new note, he began to type.

TBC...

[r0botarmsapts]

Title: Ten Percent Rating: PG-13 Words: 2,900+ Cross-posting to Ao3, ff.net, dA and fanworks twitter. Disclaimer: I own the writing but not the characters or the game they’re from. Note: This is for Whumptober 2019. Prompt 28: Beaten, and Prompt 1:  “Can you please come and get me?”  from a hurt/comfort dialogue prompt list. Modern AU

Guilt gnawed on him hungrily then- what had his fight with Flynn even been about? Whatever it was was enough to give him a sinking pause to not bother the other man. Yuri had worried him enough already. Amidst the fog in his mind right now, the simple idea to text Flynn he was fine and then call Judith seemed to be the right one- at first, anyway.

His gaze shifted to the tied up plastic bag at the foot of the bed, containing the shirt he wore earlier; now ruined by blood and tears he doubted could so easily be fixed. Pinching part of the cloth gown being used for a make-shift shirt between his fingers, Yuri knew he would need another as there was no way he was wearing that out of the hospital. Judy wouldn’t have had anything he could use... it looked like avoiding Flynn tonight wasn’t happening.

The phone is on its last ten percent of power. It stopped holding charge like it was supposed to long ago, something he never got around to replacing, putting it off for the next day or forgetting about it altogether. Now, he thinks, he should have, because he has a choice to make and he has to make it soon. Staring at the typed out text there’s hesitance in sending it, even more when calling Flynn becomes an idea he doesn’t want to consider when sending a text alone would be enough of a pain.

‘Can you come get me?’

The question a request he knows the answer for already, rolling the words around in thought over and over, his mind partially clouded from the pain, that not helping matters. Flynn would come get him, and that knowledge made his already awful night worse. Yuri had already ruled out calling another of their friends since it would end up back to Flynn before morning one way or another. Yuri just wasn’t sure he was ready to face the other man so soon- not when his head was pounding, body aching, feeling every bruise, cut and exhaustion creeping in. It would be easy to nod off now; the thought of sleeping in his own bed and forgetting this night was both welcomed and tempting. It brought him back to his original problem- figuring out who exactly to call.

Nine percent.

It’s two forty-three in the morning, and Yuri briefly reconsiders Judith as an option. Yuri’s crashed on her couch more than once. She didn’t live too far away from where he and Flynn did....

This isn’t like you, Yuri. Where are you?

The sudden messages from Flynn give him pause, a quiet hmm the only thing he could say at the moment, noticing his phone didn’t make the familiar noise it was supposed to when he got a notification. Blaming the pain medication starting to run its course, Yuri realized too late it was because he muted the phone after leaving their place earlier. The sound of their front door slamming closed by his own doing was the most that would come to mind on trying to figure out why. A disagreement had occurred; the rest a blur until he got jumped.

Flinching, a sharp pain jolted through his skull, forcing a look of lour on him at the all too fresh memory. This wasn’t going to work now. Yuri decided he would have to deal with that after getting someone to pick him up. Backing out of the text conversation with Flynn, Yuri was surprised as he could be right now to find assorted missed calls and texts from Flynn, Estelle, Rita, Judith and Raven.

I know you and Flynn fought, but he’s really worried about you, and I am too.

Hey, I don’t know what you two are squabbling about, just quit being an idiot and let one of us know something.

Did you end up in trouble again?

Kid, let someone know something. Ya got a whole mess of people worried about ya right now.

Eight percent

Guilt gnawed on him hungrily then- what had his fight with Flynn even been about? Whatever it was was enough to give him a sinking pause to not bother the other man. Yuri had worried him enough already. Amidst the fog in his mind right now, the simple idea to text Flynn he was fine and then call Judith seemed to be the right one- at first, anyway.

His gaze shifted to the tied up plastic bag at the foot of the bed, containing the shirt he wore earlier; now ruined by blood and tears he doubted could so easily be fixed. Pinching part of the cloth gown being used for a make-shift shirt between his fingers, Yuri knew he would need another as there was no way he was wearing that out of the hospital. Judy wouldn’t have had anything he could use... it looked like avoiding Flynn tonight wasn’t happening.

Moving back to his text conversation with Flynn, Yuri typed out the question again, preparing to hit send and be ready for whatever Flynn had to say.

Seven percent

A gentle knock on the thick wooden door stole his immediate attention; Flynn’s message would have to wait a moment as an older, portly nurse let herself in. Her eyes were on the clipboard in her hands while she greeted him. “It looks like the doctor was in here not long ago, and your discharge papers will be ready in a few minutes.” She didn’t have to give him a critical look to know being released so soon after the injuries sustained was a bad idea. Some patients were stubborn, however, and sometimes there was little you could do. “Do you have someone to come get you?”

Yuri nodded, choosing to be released against doctors orders, knowing it would be easier on himself to be away from this place. “He’ll be here soon.” Something between a lie and the truth; it hit him then he was going to have call Flynn instead of just texting him. Well, his phone was almost out of charge anyway, so what Flynn would say would have to wait until they were face-to-face again.

It was the middle of the night, and she knew in and out how that pain medication affected most. “You should get some rest until your ride arrives. I’ll come back in a little while with your paperwork.” The nurse watched him give a slow nod, gray eyes far from fully awake. Nothing more needing to be done, she took her leave, closing the door carefully behind her knowing it wouldn’t be a surprise if he was back in here soon over this.

Six percent

Once she was gone, Yuri looked back to his phone, then backed out of their text conversation to go make the call. The phone was barely half-way through its second ring before it was answered, Flynn’s voice a mix of concerned, angry and a little bit relieved. A strange mix perfected for Yuri, something that in other circumstances he would be amused by.

“Yuri? Where are you? I know something happened.” What Yuri couldn’t see was that Flynn had been awake for a long while, getting ready to go looking his self after finding out Yuri was not with one of their other friends as usual when they had an argument get of hand like earlier’s had.

“Can you pick me up?” And then would come the part Yuri knew would make Flynn worry more than he had been already. “I’m at the hospital,” he added before the other man could ask.

“On my way. Yuri, what the hell happened?” Flynn asked, refraining from asking Yuri if he was alright because he did not sound like it, and being at the hospital this time of night answered that question.

“I’ll explain when you get here, phones almost dead.” There was truth in that, but Yuri was also far from ready to relive the nights events right now. The pain medication running its course, leaving him droggy- the thought of resting until Flynn got there seeming better and better.

“Fine, but I want the details.” Flynn knew Yuri well enough to know he would try and brush it off as whatever was wrong not being as bad as it actually was. It was getting close to three-thirty in the morning- whatever had happened would most likely be worse than what Yuri would try and tell him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Yuri was positive he could see Flynn’s expression right now; the one reserved for him whenever trouble happened, whether it was his fault or not. It was then he caught sight of the bag at the end of his bed with his likely too far gone piece of clothing and was reminded, “oh, bring a shirt.”

“...Yuri.”

Five percent

Hanging up with Flynn, Yuri knew he should let the others know he was fine(as far as they would know because he had already worried them enough as is). Staring at the phone, he blinked as the words started to blur and mesh together; okay, maybe trying to text right now wouldn’t be the best idea. He could just rest his eyes for a little while then do it after Flynn picked him up. There was also the chance one of them would try calling on getting the message- mainly Judy. Yuri knew trying to lie to her would end badly, so it was best to avoid it and give her an answer over text. Yuri was injured, yes, but he was alive, Flynn was coming and the medicine had made the pain no more than a dull ache for now- so, by all accounts, he was fine.

Shoving the almost dead phone in his pocket, Yuri leaned back on the bed, getting as comfortable as he could under the thin hospital blanket, already missing his own back home. If it hadn’t been for the medication Yuri doubted he would have been able to rest at all- the room being too cold for the standard thin blankets and sheets the hospital had.

The lights in the room had been dimmed down awhile ago, still, sleep did not come quickly as he would have liked. There was something missing, and even like this, he knew it was the familiar weight of Repede. That dog had a perfectly fine dog bed that was on the floor at the foot of their bed, but day in and out, Repede would curl up on the thing only to be on their bed come morning. Of all the things he could teach Repede, the dog never learned to keep off of theirs so it was eventually dropped as a lost cause; Yuri knowing it was because Repede knew he could get away with it- he was too soft for that dog, not that Flynn was any better.

In time that felt longer than it what really was, sleep came and with it the event from earlier in the night replaying itself.

Four percent

The sound of a door slamming shut behind him was heard while he walked away, not paying as much attention to directions, going wherever the wind went that night. It had been late, and going to Judith’s had been on his mind after their argument had escalated- the source of the fight continued to escape him, only being certain it was something he felt strongly against. Usually, they saw eye-to-eye on most things, so why this was different enough to get this far eluded him.

In a flash things changed, there now being a group of people with threatening looks, some with knives out, each of them ready to fight. Having grown up surviving the streets, Yuri was more annoyed than anything else right now. The dark haired man hadn’t left their home looking to fight, only to cool down and while this was annoying, Yuri also knew the dangers of multiple against one.

They wanted money he didn’t have, insults were exchanged and instead of leaving they saw it better to ‘teach him a lesson about mouthing off’. In a flurry of flashes, punches were thrown, reasoning was out the window for them- Yuri was certain they were just looking for an excuse to fight someone with mugging be a bonus to the group. They had all went in at once, two getting taken down, but Yuri managing to get caught in the chaos that was the ongoing battle.

Time slowed down considerably as he struggled to free himself, another of the grunts running his way with their knife out ready to strike. Yuri knew right now there should have been that all too familiar feeling of ‘oh, crap,’ with the adrenaline spike to join it- the opposite was happening, finding himself calmer than he should have been right now. It felt like he was being tugged away to somewhere else, like hands were running through his hair... The touch was warm, comforting.

The knife sliced his skin yet didn’t hurt. In his confusion, the world began to shift and change,with everything quietly fading away into a bright, blinding light.

Three percent

Coming around was slow; going back to sleep was the preferred choice. While things came back into focus, Yuri was left briefly lost at the unfamiliar ceiling before recalling he was in a hospital room. Memories of what led him there were dismissed as fast as they came; the pain was a reminder enough. Things finally coming into focus, it took a long moment, realizing he could still feel a hand on his head then fingers through his hair.

“Yuri.”

Yuri looked over hearing his name, seeing Flynn, who appeared unhappy and with an emotion showing he couldn’t place right now- Yuri just knew he didn’t like it. Hurt, was Flynn hurt, he wondered, with that look. An idea came to mind- one that seemed good right now, in the haze of his own pain medication working. “Tell them you’re an eight.”

Flynn knew it had to be the medicine affecting Yuri but was still caught off guard with that. He looked so serious too, which didn’t help matters right now. It was near four in the morning, then coming in to find out Yuri could have been killed...

“If you’re hurt, tell them you’re an eight.” Yuri made a gesture towards the wooden door, “they’ll give you something really good for that.” Unsure of how long his own would last, Yuri had considered telling one of the nurses he was an eight again too.

Yuri meant well, Flynn could see that well enough, but the pain he had couldn’t be helped by whatever it was they gave the dark haired man. Flynn pushed a shirt he brought into Yuri’s hands, “get changed, I’ll be right back.”

Looking to the shirt after seeing Flynn leave the room, even like this Yuri recognized the shirt as one of Flynn’s.

Two percent

Entering the room a short bit ago, Flynn had expected to find Yuri up and looking impatient; he never cared for hospitals, avoiding them as much as possible and Flynn couldn’t say he felt too differently. It had been more of a jarring sight than expected seeing Yuri so heavily bandaged, some blood still visible on him, and what he presumed was Yuri’s shirt in the plastic bag on the foot of the bed.

The other man had been sleeping, a look on his face he knew from when Yuri had nightmares. Guilt and anger ate at him a bit as he reached out to do the one thing that tended to work when this happened at home- gently placing a hand on Yuri’s head and combing through his long hair with his fingers. Thankfully it was working now as well. Within a short time, his look changed to a more peaceful one and Yuri began to come around once Flynn started calling his name.

With the condition he was in, Flynn knew Yuri couldn’t offer any real details to what happened right now, and the nurse could only say so much with what little she knew past his current injuries. It was late, and the doctor that had seen Yuri was gone for the night, not helping that he already signed the paper to be released against orders.

It had been enough time, Flynn figured Yuri would be done changing by now, and he could see the nurse on her way with his discharge paperwork and wheelchair to escort him to the drop off in front of the emergency room.

One percent

A bit later, once they were finally home, cleaned up, changed and in bed, Flynn noticed it was almost five-thirty in the morning and was glad to have made the decision for them both to sleep in today. On the way back home, Yuri had started messing with his phone, apparently remembering he needed to text the others to let them know he was fine. Flynn pointed out Yuri was far from it right now, to which Yuri responded by telling him he was over worrying. It wasn’t that bad, and after some sleep it would be okay.

Flynn had a feeling Yuri wouldn’t be sharing those same thoughts later on once his pain medication wore off. Later on Yuri would also learn the texts he sent weren’t anywhere near as sensible and coherent as he thought they were in the car ride back home. Judith was going to screenshot hers and hold onto it to not let him live it down so soon and for future use when he was being too hot-headed.

While in bed, Repede went ahead and got comfortable on theirs at the foot- Flynn didn’t bother telling him to go to his own. That was the one thing they hadn’t been able to teach Repede to do, and right now the blond doubted the dog would have listened. Repede had been antsy and worried since Yuri left without him, which was unusual enough. Yuri normally took their dog almost everywhere.

Flynn was careful how he held onto Yuri to avoid pain and waking him back up; their disagreement shelved for now. Still, he thought, placing a light kiss to Yuri’s temple, he was going to want details of what happened later. Someone had hurt Yuri, and he wanted to know who. That would be one conversation Yuri wasn’t getting out of.

Drifting to sleep himself, Flynn wondered how it seemed that Yuri and trouble were so closely intertwined.

Recharge battery.

[bounnostra]

forget me not O evie O endgame O r.e: basically everyone

"Do you remember anything from back then?" "Not really. You know. Can't say I marked toddler memories as being particularly useful apart from remembering easier times."  "All you did was laugh. Thought you would've been screaming, the state of you. Your parent's hearts were breaking seeing you that injured. But every test they did, all you did was laugh."

Would that it were so easy now. 

(But she wouldn't have wanted that anyway, would she?)

“Why are you acting like- like we had a say in this?”

It didn’t take long at all for Evie to be jarred out of whatever detached state her mind had been floating into, not with such directed words from Myra. Even though the most that had registered thus far was a sharp blink towards just how fast the response had come, something lit up in her tired eyes all too quickly to hit the ball back.

“I never said mine was a noble goal. Never said this was anything outside of... me desperately trying to make some kind of. Stupid independent decision in the area available, in the heat of the moment. I'm a twenty three year old desperately trying to act for myself. I dunno how to big myself up on that one. And I accept that I’ve... worked with a few wrong suggestions that came up to get here. Call it what you want, but. We were just... collateral, essentially. From the third cycle. Leave, get Gambit-fied, or do this again. You’re acting like we built this hotel and kidnapped all of you ourselves, not just... that we all but stumbled into doing this again last time. As if- as if whether we won or not would stop all of this being reset again. If we lost here, I’m pretty sure Gamb would’ve just executed me and let you continue until a gang or killer win as usual. We were the only outliers. No matter what.” 

Despite her response, it was Finlay that was the first to earn a direct look from Evie: one that matched their own tiredness yet somehow, at least not just yet, didn’t shoot right through them. Quite the opposite, in fact- the look one might give someone they hadn’t seen in years while knowing the other didn’t recall them at all. 

“...When have I ever been more forgiving to my character over anyone else?”

(The extra proof Finlay might have needed was right there on her tongue, that she couldn’t do anything but leave them to rot and be rewound- the memory of a fate that didn’t exist for them anymore, some alternate route of their existence- but the lethal sparks seen behind closed eyes were enough to discourage dwelling on that.)

“How would you have taken it, Finlay. Being offered the chance for any wish you can imagine, up to reviving someone. Do you want to say you wouldn't have at least thought about it, in a moment of proof where it doesn't seem like anyone outside your win is their own agent..? After months of a cycle I can’t even start describing. Five minutes out of watching everyone else left get executed. Couple of hours after your gang... committed arson, let’s say. Gamb’s in a human form, for fuck’s sake. It's no excuse, but. To learn that this would all just repeat again- that we could play again and even those we’d seen literally reduced to ash would be wound right back. Would you feel like you could combat much in that position..? All... all I felt I had control of then was maybe, just maybe, tackling something that... had screwed over my whole life, pretty much. Keeping me under constant lock and key by my own family, companies trying to steal what I have to fuck up others, my own- stupid body that won't let me live my own life. It’s not... gun or magic owl to head. I don’t know how to describe this life to you. Maybe if I was content being pushed around by someone else forever, but...”

A tired smile spread across her face. Perhaps ‘smile’ was a generous term, though; it was even more a ghost of the look than normal.

“...But I’m also pretty shit, so. Maybe you shouldn’t answer those questions. You were content enough with yourself, Finlay, right..? You... don’t feel like you don’t. Exist in this world at all. Because I don’t feel any of the space I’m taking up. I'm not doing anything here, whereas you...” 

(This whole time her fingers had been trying to drum, drum, drum themselves off her side as best they could as ever- some kind of constant reminder-)

Duck was a surprising turn after that - or, depending on how you viewed her and Scourge’s opposition, completely expected - and it wasn’t something Evie had wanted to do, but her lips started to form a ‘thank you’ regardless, off the back of the question of a Don’s presence.

But then Ana began right after, and Evie was reminded that she was a complete idiot. 

(If she’d known how it might turn out, would she have pretended to be asleep when Simone first came to gossip with her about the seance? Would she have pushed away the flash of memory of the same knock coming from what was now Kaga’s door? Should she have just kept it strictly business like around the subject of the Don: some kind of tense gang alliance with no need for friendship?) 

(Perhaps the tired Evie bidding goodbye to the rest of Clubs might have thought as much. But the Evie out the other end, feathers and talons and deception, found herself unwilling to wish away the knife twisting in her heart that was formed of all the other interactions.) 

(How selfish.) 

“...Thank you. For standing up to me. It... if you’d just rolled over on this, I...” 

One hand idly started tugging at her new (old?) braid as Evie did her best to reroute the conversation tracks to Simone, the ends of her gloves sticking in the hair and tugging. She didn’t notice, of course. 

“It’s... it’s fine. That you don’t care. Didn’t expect you to, just... I dunno. ‘Felt right that you knew what this was for’ sounds cheap, but. It’s the only way I can... think to say it. I’m not expecting you to just fucking clap for us now, and I... I don’t think I’d exactly. Want you to, either. I just- I didn’t know what else to do. Could I have just taken this role and done nothing? Maybe, yeah. But... but Gamb has a purpose to how he provokes us, and... and if we did nothing. If I caused us to throw this all away in shrinking back from something again. That was... a chance for two more people to be outside this loop gone, wasn’t it? It’s not- okay. Can’t deny it’s something I did, but. It’s... far from something I wanted to do to you.”

Tug, tug, tug. 

“...Every lie I’ve ever said that was about- was about winning this final trial. Every piece of particular bullshit I’ve pulled or asked Sute to do. All of that lying... was about the game itself only. That’s all I’ve ever lied on. I swear.”

Perhaps it was Simone that had pushed her emotions to the cliff edge: the stacking of responses that just builds and builds until something completely unrelated yet inconvenient happens and you’re on the kitchen floor crying over spilt milk. The accidental nudge was to come from Kaga, it seemed- where Evie’s look had been previously struggling towards Simone, his words towards a completely unrelated party couldn’t help but push Evie to spitting out something from a pool of knowledge she’d long shut off. 

“...Y-you found each other before, you know. You and Mathilde. Last time. I... I dunno. Maybe I was just missing the obvious, but. Two times in a row at least can’t be bad odds, right..? If I’m. Put in some kind of... gang helper position after this. I dunno if you’ll believe me if I tell you that, so. Maybe it can... sink in. If I do it now.” 

Embarrassment sunk onto her face at the intrusion almost immediately, but she waited to catch either of their eyes afterwards. For better or worse, Grisha was an instant distraction- and even though Sute was a welcome interjection, one greeted with a weary but warming mouthing of ‘it’s fine’ from behind that sword, she couldn’t help but ask anyway:

"When did I ever say I hated you, Grisha?"

(Well, maybe she'd cussed him out a few times when Aki and Nisha had stumbled back from 'a very simple kill' they had to do twice, but-) 

"I don't like it. I don't like any of it. I know you don't want to hear about about sorry we are or whatever, and I imagine I'd be taking the piss too, but- the rest of Clubs, they chose to leave, and now they're sitting across from us. Which I had no idea about until we wandered into Mothman in our gang den. Don't... think we're going anywhere. Apart from being another pair outside of this system with a bit more space to move. We've... we've won twice now. For Gamb to keep us in the system after that would make him even more a hypocrite. Maybe he'll turn me into a horse like Aki for you all to interrogate. But... you don’t want to hear it. But I’ve never... hated you. Any of you. I lied about the source of those tears, I admit, but... but the source of it...”

Her voice was getting quieter. But Evie pushed herself to answer Rita, digging within herself only to find an answer that was becoming very worn already. 

“...I didn’t know what else to do. I’m... awful at acting for myself. No matter how independent I want to say I’m becoming. Twenty odd years don’t break so easily, as it turns out.”