#I shall trying going out tomorrow or friday instead. Maybe someone will join me then or something

[satans-knitwear]

Maybe putting on some of my faves will fix everything 🤔

Treat me ~ Tip me ~ More of me

[13-reasons-ideas]

Can’t Go Back Part 19

A/N: Sorry this one is a few days late. I was having issues with it. I couldnt get it to flow and it had to be reworked a few times. No smut in this one. It also wasn't working for me. There will be smut in the next Present chapter. The next chapter will be posted on Friday as usual. As always, feedback is appreciated and much love. -Em

Monty and I were still dancing around each other a little, but things were getting easier. Our life had fallen back into a comfortable routine. The date night we indulged in last week seemed like it hit the reset button on our relationship again. Our alarm went off on Tuesday morning and we both groaned in protest. It was so warm in bed. “Remind me again why we can’t just cut school and lay here all day?”

“Because we need to go learn things. Helps with the whole graduation thing we are supposed to do this year.” I could feel Monty peppering my neck with soft kisses. “It’s not going to work, Casanova.”

“Shhh. Let me try.” He shushed me.

“No. We don’t have time.” I sighed. I really don’t want to get up. How was I a morning person before?

“I think we do.” Oh yeah.  I didn’t have someone waking me up with cuddles and kisses. Nd begging to stay in bed.

“We do not.” I sighed again. Monty sighed. He let go of me and I rolled out of bed. I could feel his eyes on my ass, and I shook my hips a little. He ignored me.

After a hot shower, separately lest we run late for another joyous day at Liberty High, we enjoyed coffee and breakfast together. I smiled to myself while I ate. I was just thankful that we were getting back to normal again. I hated fighting with him. We both knew that it would happen. Especially since we are both stubborn and have an inexplicable need to be right. We were prepared for the little tiffs that would come along. We were prepared for the big fights that were sure to come. Forever is a long time, after all. There were just some things you couldn’t prepare for. Our current struggle was one of those things. But we were getting through it.

Monty startled me when he placed a full cup of coffee beside me. “Thank you.”

“I promised I would never leave your morning coffee empty, remember?”

“I remember.” I smiled fondly and took a sip. He placed his bowl-we had moved up from sticking his hand directly in the box, thank God-in the dishwasher. Scott texted me while I was packing up my backpack.

Can we talk before lunch?

Yeah, sure. About what?

Monty.

Is everything okay? I looked up from my phone at my husband. He was shoving his physics textbook into his bag. It didn’t seem like anything was wrong.

Nothing’s wrong exactly.

What do you mean? He didn’t reply. There was still no answer when Monty and I got to school. Scott wouldn’t look at me when we stopped to chat with our friends. What the hell?

Scott met me outside of my class. “Hey.”

“Hey.” We walked to an empty alcove outside, chatting about nothing in particular. He sat down on the bench and motioned for me to join him.

“I want to keep this short because I’m hungry. We need to talk about Monty.”

“What about him?”

“Now, I know I said I would stay out of your marriage unless I was invited.”

“Yes. You did?”

“And I’m glad everything is working out between you two now.”

“Yeah.” I was beginning to get nervous.

“I also swore to myself I would take zero interest in your private life.”

“That sounds like bullshit. But okay.” He didn’t say anything. He looked at me seriously. Oh. “You mean, our private life.”

“Yeah.”

“So, why do we need to talk Scott?”

“You need to have sex with your husband.” He stated.

“Oh. Okay. I’ll get right on that. Shall we text you updates before, during, and after?”

“Addison. I’m serious.”

“If you are going to lecture me on ‘needs’ Scott….”

“No, nothing like that. He’s just really fucking annoying.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Don’t worry, we don’t talk details. All I need to know about that is that its consensual. But he’s getting kind of cranky.”

“Not with me.” I shrugged.

“Yeah. Because he loves you and he just got out of your bad books.”

“You think that would stop him from being cranky with me? Are we talking about the same Montgomery de la Cruz here? Have you met your best friend?”

“Yes. I think, given the situation, that it would. He likes you. He doesn’t exactly like many other people. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed.”

“Maybe once or twice.” I shrugged.

“Will you just think about it?”

“Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

“Great. And no. I don’t need updates. Or want them.” We stood up and started walking to the cafeteria.

“Hey Scott?”

“Yeah Addy?”

“Thank you. For being so supportive during this whole mess. I don’t think many other people would be.”

“You’re my friends. It’s what I’m here for. And you feed me at least once a week. I wasn’t about to start missing out on that.” He grinned at me. I laughed and pushed him gently.

“Let me check with my wife.” Monty was saying as Scott and I sat down at lunch.

“Check with me about what?”

“I was just asking Monty if he was down to come to my place for a party later this week.” Bryce said.

Monty gave me a look. “And so, I said I would check with you.” Ah yes. The old checking with the wife line.

“When this week?”

“Friday. Are you his daytimer?”

“Friday?” I thought for a second. “You have a doctor’s appointment at four and physio at seven. It seems I am.”

“Sorry man.” Monty shrugged.

“It’s one appointment. I’m sure you’d be fine to miss them. Or you could swing by after.” I rolled my eyes.

“Do you want your friend’s knee to be permanently fucked? No? Then he can’t go.” Bryce didn’t answer. Thinking the matter had been decided and was no longer up for discussion, I settled in to eat my lunch.

“You could just come anyway. How would she know?” I heard him whisper to Monty.

“Considering we live together I think I would notice if he wasn’t home.” I whisper said back. “We share a bed.” I left the implication of what happened the last time he wasn’t home in our bed, but rather out with Bryce, be.

“Fine.” Bryce pouted.

I caught up with Monty after lunch and he walked me to class. His arm was thrown over my shoulder, possessively, more often than not now that we were getting back on the road to happy, healthy marriage land. “Check with your wife, huh?”

“Yeah. Don’t want to hurt his feelings.”

“You know I’m okay with you going, right?”

“I know. But I would rather spend my Friday night with you. I don’t actually have a doctor’s appointment I forgot about, do I?”

“No. You’re free for the night.”

“Good.”

“How has your knee been doing, by the way?”

“It’s been okay. Not like I’m doing anything to stress the ligament too much.” I smirked softly. “I mean, I can’t play ball. I’m not even supposed to be working out that much.” Right. That’s what you meant.

“That’s true. What are we doing instead of Bryce’s?”

“I was thinking pizza? Maybe make it ourselves?”

“Hey guys. Wait up!” Scott called after us. We stopped and turned around. Scoot was tailed by Anders.

“Hey.”

“Doctor’s appointments?” Scott smirked.  

“Sure.” Monty nodded.

“You really don’t want to go on Friday, do you?”

“No. I have much better plans.” He squeezed me softly.

“He really does.” I nodded.

“What are your plans?” Anders asked.

“No pants pizza night.”

“What?”

“No pants pizza.” I repeated.

“What’s that?”

“We make or order pizza. And then we sit on the couch. And eat it. Without pants on.” I explained slowly.

“No pants pizza.” Monty shrugged. Scott quickly quirked his brow at me. I made no indication of noticing. The warning bell rang so we went our separate ways.

In class, I took my seat next to Alex and Zach. Alex had come around to Monty and I after we all had dinner. Zach was still pretty stand-offish. The Zach issue had been pushed to the side. We had bigger things to worry about recently. And trying to figure out what was going on in Zach Dempsey’s head was always a tossup. The boy was far from an open book. “Hey Addy.” Alex greeted.

“Hey guys.”

“Hey.” My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to look. It was a reminder about Monty’s physio appointment tomorrow night. He texted me right away. I didn’t forget about this one.

“How are things?” I asked.

“They go.” Zach replied. Why the hell is he so cranky. It’s been two months. Over two. Everyone else has moved on. Why can’t you?

“They’re good. I started working out with Caleb and Tony.”

“That’s great Alex.”

“Yeah. Girls aren’t really that into scrawny guys.”

“That’s not true.”

“Says the girl married to an Adonis.”

“Semantics.” I shrugged.

“You’re a catch Alex.” Zach added.

“Thanks Zach.” His smile seemed a little brighter at the compliment. Huh. That could be interesting. We chatted a little more before class started. We were watching a video in class and our teacher hadn’t come back with the TV yet.

“Hey, did you guys want to get a burger or something from Rosie’s tomorrow night? Monty has physio so it would just be us.”

“I’m always down for some junk food.” Alex laughed.

“Zach?”

“Sure. I mean,” he paused, “I could eat.”

“Great. Say five thirty?”

“Works for me. I can give you a ride Alex.” Zach offered.

After school, I waited for Monty. He had a test in physics and Mr. Brown was still a hardass about people leaving after they were done. He made everyone wait until every test was handed in. That being said, he always gave everyone five extra minutes at the end of class to finish. For daytime classes, he gave the class notes to excuse lates in their next class.

“Hey Casanova.” I called as Monty left.

“Hey Bookworm.” He leaned in to kiss me when he reached me.

“How was your test?”

“It was okay. My brain hurts.” We walked hand in hand to the Jeep. He hadn’t let me drive since he got cleared by Dr. Marcus. I miss driving it.

“Awe. I’m sorry. Can I drive?”

“No. My car. I drive.” Oh. Okay maybe Scott is right. Maybe he is a little cranky. That’s okay.

“Okay.” I smiled. I climbed in the passenger seat and buckled up.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound that harsh.”

“No, I know. It’s okay. I just thought I’d offer since you look drained from that test.”

“I appreciate the offer, really. I’m good though.”

“Okay.” He leaned over and kissed me again before we drove home.

Inside, I grabbed a snack and refilled my water bottle. I grabbed a couple bags of fruit snacks for Monty too. We worked on homework quietly for a couple of hours. Justin called as I was finishing up. “Homework help?” he asked in lieu of a greeting.

“Shoot.”

“The discussion questions from my English class make no sense.”

“What are the questions?”

“What’s going on?” Monty asked me quietly. I pulled the phone away from my ear and covered the mic.

“English discussion questions.”

“I have them here.” He handed me the sheet. I looked over it carefully. I had uncovered the mic while reading.

“These are kind of dumb. Is this what you do in regular English?”

“Yeah.” My boys responded together.

“Huh. At least you get to read fun books. City of Bones is good. Okay then. Uh let me see.”

“The movie was still bad.”

“Shh. I’m helping Justin.” I grinned.

“Sorry.”

“Okay. Valentine’s rebellion.” I thought for a moment and then discussed it with Justin. “If you just write down what I say, your teacher will know you had someone else do it. So, work through it on your own now.”

“Thanks Addy. You’re the best.”

“I know. Night Justin.” After we hung up, I remembered the plans I made with Alex and Zach. “I’m going to Rosie’s with Alex and Zach tomorrow while you’re at physio.”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay.” I grinned at him.

With our homework finished, we spent the rest of the evening cuddling on the couch. There was something Monty wanted to watch on tv. I had lost interest in it pretty quickly, so I got up and grabbed a book. Laying back down on the couch, I rested my head in his lap. He absentmindedly stroked my hair. Scott’s words played over in my mind. I thought about it for a little while but decided a Tuesday evening probably wasn’t the best time to potentially spend all night having sex. We have school in the morning after all. When we were getting ready for bed though, instead of putting a pair of shorts and one of my old gym shirts on, I walked over to Monty’s dresser and pulled out one of his shirts. I swam in it. I changed my underwear. He whistled to himself when he left the bathroom. I smiled to myself. The seed is planted. Monty pulled me a little closer than usual when we got in bed.

I met Zach and Alex at Rosie’s for dinner. I had run home to change first because it was warmer than I expected it to be today. I didn’t feel right going to dinner in my gym shirt, even if it was at the local diner. Since it was quiet, being the middle of the week, our waitress was at our table almost before we sat down. Melinda had been our waitress here since Zach and I were kids. She was a kind old lady. She knew everyone’s orders by heart. As such, we didn’t have to give our drink order. She did let us look at the menu “just for fun”.

“How’re things with you guys?” I asked when our drinks arrived. I took a few sips of my Cherry Coke float and stirred it to mix it up.

“Things are good. The team is looking pretty good this year. School prospects are looking good.” Zach said.

“Monty was saying that they’re shaping up pretty well. And you Alex?”

“Good. Jess and I are friends again. Tony says I’m getting stronger.”

“That’s great Alex.” I smiled.

“How are things with you Addy?”

“They’re good. I’m done with college applications for now.”

“Early admission?” Zach asked.

“Yeah. If I don’t get in anywhere, then I’ll apply for regular admission somewhere.”

Melinda was eyeing us from the counter, so we looked at the menu quickly. We decided to split a couple baskets of fries, some chicken strips, and each get a burger. I got a chicken sandwich. The boys both got cheeseburgers. After our drinks were refilled, we got back to talking. “How’s Monty doing?” Alex asked. Zach’s face pinched slightly. Seriously what the hell is his deal?

“He’s doing okay. Stubborn. But that isn’t a surprise to anyone.”

“Is he ever not stubborn?” Well, sometimes. During sex.

“I don’t think you want to know. And he would have to kill the three of us if I told you.”

“Oh? Are you trying to tell us that he’s fun?” Zach asked.

“He likes to make me smile. So sometimes he does stuff to make that happen. And that’s all you’re getting out of me.”

“And his knee?”

“You know. It’s a process. Some days are better than others. I think it bugs him more than he lets on, but I don’t want to push. Physio is helping and Dr. Marcus says he should be able to do some lower body workouts if things keep progressing well.”

“That’s good. Tell him to stop by practice sometime?”

“I’ll try. I think there’s only so many practices he can go to and just watch.”

“I get that. The invitation is open though.”

“I’ll let him know.”

Our food arrived. The three of us took a break from catching up, to savour the food. “How’s married life?” Alex asked.

“Oh, you know.” The boys looked at me, expectantly. “It’s mostly a lot of asking each other what we want for dinner. Every night. For the rest of our lives.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” Zach smiled.

“That isn’t. It’s agreeing on something that’s the hard part. I married a guy who would be content eating chicken nuggets and fruit snacks for dinner every night. Trying to get him to eat a vegetable is an almost insurmountable battle.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Can you blame him?” Alex asked.

“It feels like it is sometimes. And not really. But would eating some carrots really hurt him?”

“Yes.” My friends said in unison.

“Boys.” I rolled my eyes and laughed. “It’ll only get worse when we have kids and they’re at eating regular food age. Because they’ll need to be included in the decision.”

“And how can you make them eat vegetables when their dad doesn’t?” Alex laughed.

“Exactly!” I exclaimed, pointing a chicken strip at him. The three of us laughed.

“How are things with you guys… otherwise?” Zach asked, hesitantly.

“They’re,” I paused, “getting better. We’ve talked a lot in the last few weeks. I think we are back on the same page. It’s a work in progress.”

“That’s good. Things seemed pretty….” He didn’t finish his sentence.

“I know. And they were. We are working on it though.”

“It was pretty funny watching him shut Bryce down at lunch.”

“What happened?” Alex asked.

“He played the ‘let me ask my wife’ card.”

“Oof. And I’m guessing that went over Bryce’s head?”

“What do you think?”

“Of course, it did.” He grinned and shook his head.

We talked for another hour or so. Melinda brought us another basket of fries on the house. Around seven, Monty texted me. I grabbed a couple of pints of Haagen Dazs at the store.

Okay. I’ll see you at home. I love you.

I love you too. The three of us called it a night around eight. We bid each other good night and promised to text each other when we got home.

I’m on my way home. Do we need anything else before I get home?

No, I grabbed a couple of things. I’ll get your ice cream out. Drive safe Bookworm.

Okay. Thank you. I will. See you soon Casanova.

[draco-kasai]

Hero Collaboration Program

Chapter 2 pt. 1: Welcome to The Program! --> 

Chapter 2 pt. 2                                            Find Chapter 1 here!

Story Summery: High School Hero Collaboration Program! Helping Sophomore hero students connect with others around the world! Come join us for a two-week-long trip to one of our schools for an amazing once in a lifetime experience with students of Yuuei! Only a lucky 40 students will be selected for this program. They will be split into two groups of 20 and sent to different schools to have completely unique experiences!

AKA; A very bitg crossover fanfic I started because I can’t help myself. I adore all of these characters and hope I had done them justice, though I did take many backstories and threw them into the meat grinder to remold them in a way that fits this universe. Also, I love 1-A but I also want to take them down a peg or two... I also just want to see them get their asses handed to them.  

A/N: Here it is! Chapter two! I hope anyone who decides to read it enjoys!

Alfred Freedom Jones practically bounced out of his bed in excitement. All the exchange student’s had arrived around 7PM last night in hopes for them to receive enough rest and get used to any sudden time change and jet lag. He and Valerie - a teacher of the school where they conduct part of the program - had wanted to be the ones to pick up and welcome all the kids. However, They were tasked with any last minute decorating to make the dorms presentable and welcoming and preparing dinner, that way the kids would have food in their bellies before they headed to their dorms and began unpacking and going to bed. 

The dorms of the school are located right behind the school itself. Although they were especially made 15 years ago since the program had begun, they are used for other purposes throughout the year to not go to waste. When students find themselves in situations where they need a place to stay, they are welcome to speak to a counselor to explain the situation, where they are given a room key and a ‘job’ as a tutor or teacher's assistant as well as have mandatory counseling to ‘pay off’ their stay. Sports clubs are also welcome to apply and stay in the program dorms during the summer for training camp, and many clubs even enjoy having sleep-overs for a few days as a bonding activity. 

This year has been one of the few where nobody has found the need to stay in the dorms throughout their school year. Alfred could almost cry for joy at that fact. Not only is there no student in the school facing such problems, but there won't be a random kid trying to sneak into all of their activities. It’s endearing when it happens the first few times, but the moment you have every one of those students trying to sneak into amusement parks and other field trips with the exchange students they’d become attached to, making you buy them a ticket on the spot to not just send them back, it becomes a little of a problem. Needless to say, he and Valerie have started carrying extra money with them on field trips.

Last year was a new one. Instead of them just buying a ticket on the spot, the two seniors that were with them had been snuck onto the bus and into six flags. They had somehow convinced the shy Brazilian boy to use their quirk to turn them into mice for an hour, so they could sneak in.

Everyone that enters a theme park nowadays are given quirk suppressant bracelets, that are custom-made for each theme park with designs, shapes and looks, that they must wear during their stay and return when they leave. The senior students were somehow able to get their hands on some when they transformed back, inside the theme park.

 Everyone was very smug when they explained to Alfred and Valerie how exactly two seniors not in the program and without tickets got into the theme park. Even the shy boy seemed proud that so much was accomplished with their quirk. As illegal as that is, he couldn’t help but feel a little proud of how they had just outsmarted the system. Although that didn’t stop, he or Valerie from lecturing them. His kids were very apologetic, and tried to make up for it by paying the teachers for the two students tickets by all pitching in.  He had avoided Aizawa’s questioning stare at the two students the whole day and allowed Valerie and the kids to keep him busy.

All things considered, Alfred and Valerie might not be the best choices as chaperones for the students, since they let them get away with shit when they know they’ve been outsmarted. Their superiors don’t have to know. Although the teachers praise them for being so innovative, the two teachers always make sure to drill it into their brain how important following the law is and how they shouldn't abuse their quirks in such ways. They also make sure to explain what kind of consequences such actions can cause, especially if they were pros. 

The reason they don’t kick them out of the program or anything, though, is because they are kids in training for a dangerous profession. They deserve the opportunity to have fun and act their age every now and again. Sure, they usually end up realizing how idiotic many of their ideas turn out to be, but it’s best they start learning now than mess up later and have their careers ruined for it. He and Valerie have kept in contact with kids who had graduated too! They have all become wonderful heroes, even if they had pulled quite a few pranks during their time in the program.

Adjusting the prescription glasses on his face, Alfred grabbed all the lanyards with cardholders attached to them and made sure each of the students program ID’s, room and key cards were there. He was going to hand them out last night after dinner, but all the kids seemed too exhausted, so he and Valerie had led them to their rooms to go unpack and rest. Once he was sure all of them were there, he grabbed his own lanyard. Wrapping it around his jeans' belt loop, he grabbed a folder and stepped out of his dorm. 

Looking at his watch, he realized it was 9:01 AM. They had told the kids to set their alarms, so they should be awake and getting ready by now. Going over the schedule he had memorized, he noted that they all had to be in the cafeteria at 9:45 for a late breakfast. After, they would head over to the large field separating the two dorm buildings for group activities. Since the students are all jet-lagged, they are free from classes till Friday, tomorrow. It may be a program for training, but they're students, can’t let them all fall behind.

 Making his way down the hallway, he began knocking on doors to the boys rooms on his floor. “Head down to the common area in ten minutes! Wear something comfortable for physical activity!” he called out as he made his way down all 12 doors. He could faintly hear Valerie doing the same downstairs to the females. 

As he walked towards the stairs, he spotted a few students already following behind him. He had even spotted a few of the girls walking behind Valerie, already attempting small talk. Once in the common area, he and Valerie smiled at the kids that followed them down.

“You kids are free to enjoy yourselves with anything you’d like while we wait for the others.” Valerie’s chipper voice practically sang as she spoke. “The remote to the TV is on the coffee table, the pool table racks are on the wall over there, the ball for the foosball table should be in one of the goals, and you are free to explore the field, just don’t go too far.” 

Both adults watched in amusement as the students stared around in awe. By the time the ten minutes had passed, all the students were scattered throughout the field, or common room. It hadn’t taken long for the two adults to gather them all up outside. One of the students had been quite sociable, going around speaking to everyone.

“Alright students ~!” Valerie sang as she closed and locked the sliding glass door behind her, “Since we still have time before we have to head over for breakfast, let’s all introduce ourselves properly to one another.” 

Alfred gave the kids a two finger salute as his partner took her place next to him, “Wassup guys! I’m Alfred Freedom Jones! Call me Mr. Jones! I’m a representative of the Hero collaboration program! I’ve been to both schools and have been doing this for 6 years! I was actually a student of this program when it was established! I hope you all enjoy yourselves while you are here!”

“Hello~! I’m Valerie Felicity Frizzle! Please, feel free to call me Miss. Frizzle or even Frizz, as many of my kids call me. I have been teaching in Marina high school for 19 years now. I was actually the teacher that had convinced my coworkers and the district to sign our school up for this lovely program! Truly, it has been a wonderful joy to meet and work with such wonderful children! I hope you all have a glorious experience and take home with you something new~!” The woman curtsied, showing off her dark purple dress that depicted outer space in beautiful patterns and colors.

“Now then! Your turn guys! Anyone want to go first, or shall we popcorn it? Maybe left to right? Choose someone and let them choose after? Whatcha guys up for?”

Both teachers watched in amusement as they watched the kids glance around at one another. They had seen some of them already starting to make some friends. Five of them seemed to get along well while playing foosball. Two had played 8-ball while conversing with two other students that watched with interest. Some of the others kept to themselves while watching TV or hanging around outside. Hopefully they are able to make some friends too. Just as Miss. Frizzle prepared to call on someone, a green arm raised up.

“Me! Me! I would love to go first!” The boy’s grin widened as everyone's gaze landed on him. Everything about him was a different shade of  green, from his skin to his hair and eyes. He wore a white tank top with an unbuttoned short-sleeved button up that has Disney dogs printed all over it, and loose, knee-length jean shorts. A boy at the other end of the crowd of students with green eyes and a serious face jolted in surprise and sank a little into his seat once he noticed him. 

“I like your enthusiasm, kid! Alright! Let’s hear it! Ah, don’t share any quirk information, though! We have a little activity planned later, and staying anonymous would be the best course of action.” Alfred grinned just as wide in response. 

“Okay!” He bounced over to stand between them. It was unnecessary, but it looks like it’s a thing now. Both teachers could see the discomfort that had settled on a small handful of students at the thought of standing in front of strangers to introduce themselves. “Hi! My name is Garfield Mark Logan! You guys can call me Gar! My name can be quite the mouthful. My hero name is Beast Boy and I came from San Francisco, aaand oh yeah! I’m Vegetarian! It’s nice to meet you all -! Oh my gosh, Damian! Hey dude!!” 

Said boy groaned as he facepalmed. A few people in the group held back their laughter as best they could as Garfield rushed over to him. Grabbing the sleeve of Damian’s jacket, he dragged him to the front of the crowd, “You practically ghosted us, dude. This is your punishment. Introduce yourself.” 

Damian almost stumbled when Garfield pushed him before retreating back to his spot next to a boy with green highlights in his hair. Letting out a heavy sigh, he fixed the sleeve to his hoodie and straightened his black V-neck shirt. Clearing his throat, he spoke, “Hello, I am Damian Wayne. It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I suppose if I am going off of Garfield’s introduction; my hero name is Red Bird, I came from Gotham in New Jersey, and I am also Vegetarian.” Green eyes scanned the crowd before pointing to a boy with light brown hair wearing a tie diy shirt. “You go next.”

“O - oh! Um, okay.” The boy stood to his feet from his place on the concrete, “Hi, uh, My name is Rudy Tabootie. I live pretty close actually, Burbank, to be exact. Uh, I’m not vegetarian… sorry? Uh, my Hero name is Snap. It’s really cool to meet you all.” and just like that, all the introductions went, and the group found themselves in the cafeteria for breakfast with their new lanyards. It wasn’t long till all the student’s exited the cafeteria and made their way to the field between the dorms. 

“Alright guys! We want to explain a few things with you before we start today’s first activity!” Mr. Jones clapped his hands together, excitedly. 

“I’m sure you have all noticed how the special guests, the main reason for this program, Yuuei isn’t here yet. Well, they will all be arriving tomorrow. However, you will not be introduced to them until Monday.” Miss. Frizzle smiled widely, the students before them began murmuring to one another in confusion.

“Um, Why?” A girl with pearl white skin asked. She wore light gray joggers, a sky blue tank top and had her cobalt blue hair tied up in pigtails. Jenny Walkman.

“The answer is simple! The students of Yuuei have had the whole school year to train and get to know one another, as well as their abilities. Needless to say, they all know how to work together.” Miss. Frizzle explained, “For this reason, our program is set up to allow all the exchange students to have time to get to know one another as well as each other's quirks and skills, so you may be able to work together when needed. This way, when we do battle training, everything would be on as equal footing as we can get.”

Mr. Jones nodded beside her, “Which is why all weekend, as they rest from their long flight, get accustomed to their surroundings and have fun sightseeing, we will be doing a bunch of group activities to get to know one another better. That way, when we begin battle training…” He trails off, hoping someone would finish for him. He wasn’t disappointed. 

“We’d at least be on equal footing against them.” A girl with long red hair that she had tied up in a ponytail responded. Wearing a green crop top, and dark blue cargo pants, she crossed her arms over her chest, a smile crossing her lips slightly at the plan. Kimberly Anne Possible

“Precisely!” Miss. Frizzle and Mr. Jones sang together.

“Today’s activity, drum roll please,” Miss. Frizzle happily made the sound effect for her coworker. Mr. Jones held up a dodgeball, where he got it, nobody knows, “Dodgeball!”

Chapter 2 pt. 2  

[yatorihell]

In The Darkness Chapter 66 - The Christmas Party

Noragami x Harry Potter AU

Words: 2,920

Summary: A vision reveals a disturbing secret

Also available on Yatorihell AO3

Yato kept an eye on Hiyori in the week following the cursed necklace, more so whenever she had separate classes from Yukine. He took note of Hiyori’s timetable and, whilst escorting her to every class would come off as weird and stalker-y, he made sure Nora wasn’t following her when they parted.

Only in their final Potions classes on Friday did Yato feel somewhat at ease; Hiyori and Yukine right beside him, and Nora nowhere in sight. Nora, it seemed, had lost all interest in him and his friends again, but this Yato was loath to believe she wasn’t planning something.

Yato stirred honeysuckle into his cauldron mix but his thoughts were occupied as he watched Madame Kofuku glide around the tables at the front of the class. The sight of her brought guilty thoughts of not searching for the horcruxes all week, too preoccupied and brimming with worry and anger to try and subject himself to the Sorcerer’s mind games.

Yato made a silent promise to start again tonight as the final bell rang out and they left the class.

Thought Yato expected Madame Kofuku – or even Professor Tenjin – to pull him up on a lack of horcrux-finding at the end of the day, he nor Yukine or Hiyori expected three invitations to arrive in the post the following morning.

You are cordially invited to a Christmas party hosted by Madame Kofuku. December the 20th at 8PM. The party will be held in M. Kofuku’s office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

“That’s today!” Yukine grumbled. He flipped the navy envelope over in his hand and sighed. “Couldn’t she have given us more notice? We’re meant to be going home tomorrow.”

Yato shrugged, unfazed. It wouldn’t be a big event, no need to get dressed up, but it seemed from Yukine’s and Hiyori’s looks that weren’t the case.

It seemed that, when Yato saw Bishamon and Kazuma holding identical invites, it would be an intimate affair of Madame Kofuku’s favourite students, all of which were members of the Order of the Phoenix.

“Madame Kofuku did this a few years ago,” Kazuma explained. He and the other invitees had taken up residency in the library, tucked away in the back away from the few students who used their weekends to hole up in the library to study. “She thought it would be a good idea until someone spiked the punch and they’d all made a mess of the infirmary.”

Yukine snorted at the idea, propped in his usual window seat, hand resting his chin. Chilled winter sunlight broke through the lattice window behind him. “Sounds like a job for me and Yato.”

Yato, leaning on the wall beside Yukine with his arms folded, shared a conspirator’s smile with Yukine and a glint in his eye that hinted at trouble.

“Absolutely not,” Bishamon cut in before Yato could join the plot. “Madame Kofuku has invited us, so we will be perfect guests, lest Professor Tenjin bans parties altogether.”

Yato rolled his eyes with a tut before his gaze landed on Hiyori, the only person on the table facing him. He winked with an impish grin, unexpected and making her heart flip. She hoped no one noticed her cheeks warm as he looked away, and it seemed they hadn’t as Bishamon’s attention was on Kazuma.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been to a party,” Bishamon said.

Kazuma nodded in mute agreement. “The Yule Ball.”

There was a beat of silence as they recalled the winter night, nearly two years ago now yet feeling like a lifetime had passed.

“Do you think it’s a black-tie event?” Yato asked nobody.

Bishamon snorted as if he’d asked who’d won that year's Quidditch World Cup. To be honest, Yato probably didn’t know the answer to that either. “Just don’t show up in that.”

Yato looked down at himself, offended. He was wearing the jacket and trousers Sakura had given him, with one of his older, greyer white shirts. He glanced back up at her and spread his arms out. “You mean I can’t wear a three-day-old tracksuit to a party?”

Bishamon made a face of disgust and rose to her feet, her chair scraping behind her. “That explains the smell. Just wear something nice. See you at the party.”

Hiyori gave Bishamon and Kazuma a small wave as they meandered through the bookcases and out of sight, hand in hand, and sighed.

“I should get going too,” Hiyori said. She pushed her chair out more quietly than Bishamon did. “I promised Aimi and Yama that we would do homework together before we go home.”

“It’s Christmas, we don’t have homework,” Yato protested.

“Yes, we do, we just don’t ignore it as you do,” Hiyori quipped back, with Yukine agreeing from behind Yato.

“I’ll see you later…” Hiyori paused and eyed Yato’s jacket and the faded white shirt that had mysterious stains down its front. “… and please, wash that tracksuit.”

Yato pouted as Hiyori turned a corner around a bookcase and disappeared from sight. He turned to Yukine. “Good thing I still have my robes here, else I would be wearing this to the party.”

Yukine grumbled in return, his arms folded over his chest and a leg dangling from his window perch. “I hope you plan on asking her out.”

The blank look on his face told Yukine that, no, Yato was not planning on asking her out. He sighed.

“It’s a party. And we’ve just been talking about the Yule Ball. Don’t you think you should at least ask to walk her there?” Yukine spelt out.

Yato scrunched his face and ignored the quickening heat rising in his chest. Was Hiyori expecting an invitation from him? Was this turning out to be a double date featuring Yukine? No, this was a party among friends.

“What do you mean, ‘ask her out’? The three of us are going together,” Yato replied. The feigned ignorance of Yukine’s implication was equally ignored.

Yukine shrugged, unfolded his arms and swung his other leg down so he could stand. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, maybe I just won’t go, or maybe I’ll be fashionably late to the party, or maybe I’ll get there early and see what I can do about the punch.”

Yato gave Yukine a warning look that went unheeded as Yukine smirked and swaggered out of the library before Yato warn – beseech – Yukine not to put him in a situation akin to his attempts at asking Hiyori to the Yule Ball.

It seemed that whatever the case, it would be Yato and Hiyori going to the party together.

~

Yukine was nowhere in sight at the allocated meeting point at the bottom of the grand staircase, and Yato cursed him for it.

He had butterflies in his stomach and felt like a fool to be waiting in his best eveningwear waiting for Hiyori to emerge on top of the staircase the same way she did at the Yule Ball. It was made worse by the curious looks of passing students, wondering why he was dressed up and why he was trying to hide by the Great Hall’s doors.

Yukine was probably already with Madame Kofuku, despite the bell tower in the courtyard signalling it was only quarter to eight and that he had another agonising fifteen minutes to wait until he could escape the gawks and whispers of younger students.

Yato made a mental note to sabotage Yukine’s next potion for standing him and Hiyori up like this, but any embarrassment Yato felt immediately melted away when a flash of colour on the stairs told him his date, no, Hiyori, had arrived…

Looking far, far more ridiculous than he felt.

Frills and a shocking shade of pink that edged on purple quickly blurred towards him, and through Yato’s wheezed laugh he heard Hiyori say something that he couldn’t quite catch.

“Hey look, it’s the sugar plum fairy,” Yato wheezed as Hiyori stomped up to him with a pout that could put Yukine to shame. He wiped away a tear that had formed in the corner of his eye and took in Hiyori’s outfit. Not even the bow on the back of the dress could save her from looking like a questionable, trussed up dessert.

“I. Look. Ridiculous!” Hiyori seethed. She pulled Yato closer to the Great Hall’s door alcove in a bid to hide between him and the door.

Hiyori knew she should’ve packed her own suitcase, or even added a simple dress herself, but her mother’s insistence on ‘how pretty’ the dress was had worn her down. The harmless thought she had was that she wouldn’t have a reason to wear it was proving to be a fatal mistake. She didn’t even have the chance to find a new one in Hogsmeade after a laborious afternoon of Christmas homework.

Yato tried to fight his growing grin and looked at the floor, noticing Hiyori’s pumps which, unfortunately, matched her dress. A flash of a gold bracelet on her wrist snagged his attention when he looked up again, and in a heartbeat, he knew it was the same one he had given her at the Yule Ball.

“It’s not that bad,” Yato lied once he’d composed himself enough to stop himself from doubling over again.

The look Hiyori gave him was enough to silence any more complements or jibes, instead, provoking him to offer a solution to her problem. “Want me to fix it?”

“How?!” Hiyori voice was nearly a wail, the prospect of having to walk through the castle and into the party wearing a monstrosity so bad that she was ready to turn heel and go back to her room.

“Just stay still.”

Yato pulled his wand from the folds of his pocket and aimed at Hiyori, chanting a spell she didn’t recognise yet enveloped her in a shimmer of white that transcended to her dress. The frills flattened into the skirt and the colour faded into a muted pink that was akin to her Yule Ball dress.

Hiyori stared down at herself, mesmerised, whilst Yato concealed his wand once more and offered her his arm, fighting the blush that crept onto his cheeks at the fact Hiyori was gaping at him.

“Shall we?” Yato asked, and Hiyori’s mouth snapped shut. She looked down the corridor that led to the Hufflepuff dorms.

“No Yukine?”

“I think he’s abandoned us for canapes.”

“Smart move.”

“You should know something though, Cinderella.”

Hiyori looked at Hiyori in confusion, her arm in his and her hand placed atop, waiting to be taken to the ball. “What?”

Yato grinned. “The magic wears off at midnight.”

~

Hiyori was in bed way before midnight, but Yato lay awake staring into the darkness as the bell outside announced that he’d been laying in bed for two hours.

Perhaps his mind was replaying the night's events too frequently for him to fall into a dreamless sleep, but he invited the new memories as they flittered across his eyelids; Yukine’s shit-eating grin when Yato and Hiyori arrived together, closely followed by Bishamon and Kazuma. The suspicious look Bishamon gave Yukine as Madame Kofuku served watery punch with their late dinner. Walking Hiyori back to her dorm and bidding her goodnight as he did two years ago. Yukine’s wink as he watched them go.

Yato’s mind flicked back to the brief conversation about horcruxes, which has made him nearly choke on his food in a panic. Madame Kofuku had only informed Kazuma and Bishamon that that Professor Tenjin was now working with them, and what Yato’s role was now that he may be able to find the horcruxes himself. Bishamon looked wary, but there was a hint of recognition for what he was putting himself through. Even Kazuma raised a glass in thanks, making for a hasty toast to his success.

Yato rolled onto his front with a sigh, as he remembered the rest of the night again. Yukine’s insinuating wink, his insistence that he ask Hiyori to the party, and the fact he planned for the two to arrive and leave together. Yukine’s matchmaking wasn’t a distraction he wanted when he felt fool enough around Hiyori; not when those feelings may not be reciprocated.

Thankfully, he didn’t get a disappointed look when he told Madame Kofuku that he hadn’t found anything yet, omitting the fact that he hadn’t even been looking. But the flicker of Madame Kofuku’s eyes between him and Hiyori and the slightest of smiles told him that she knew the truth.

Yato sighed and buried his face his pillow. He needed to find answers.

He willed his mind to stop replaying every moment of the night until blackness rolled across his eyelids, not realising he’d fallen into a listless doze that dragged him deeper with every breath.

~

Yato found himself in Professor Tenjin’s office, but the headmaster was not in his usual place in his seat. His senses dulled to the crackle of a lit fireplace beside the large sunlit window and to the musty smell of decaying books that covered the walls in an array of faded fabric coverings. Fawkes, too, seemed to be missing.

The line between dream and vision was thin, but the fact that Yato was in his own body and was within Hogwarts, it seemed that he erred into dreams rather than reality.

Yato stepped towards the table, and though a niggling at the back of his head told him he shouldn’t, he looked over the rolls of parchment spread across the table. Yato frowned as he read through the scrolls, loopy black ink blurring and not entirely making sense, yet he could tell that these scrolls were restricted with knowledge of the Dark Arts.

His eyes danced across each scroll, to the inkpot and the large, ornate phoenix feather quill tucked inside of it. A glitter of silver caught his eye beside the inkpot, nearly tucked out of sight underneath a scroll aside from the tell-tale chain which beckoned him to pick it up.

Yato pinched the chain and gently pulled, trying to be quiet despite no one being there to hear him. He felt a heavy weight at the end of the chain dragging against the oaken table, rustling the parchment out of the way until it was free and dangling at the end of his fingertips. A polished black stone reflected his confusion back at him, inset in silver and begging him to open the clasp and reveal its secret.

The secret contained in Sakura’s locket.

~

“How would Sakura’s locket be in Professor Tenjin’s office?”

Yukine’s question hung over them as Yato slammed the compartment door shut behind him. They were cocooned in the Hogwarts Express with the sound of whizzbangs and screams outside as they set off back home for the Christmas break. He shut the blinds so they had some semblance of privacy.

“I don’t know. I don’t know when that vision was – if it was recent or a long time ago – but it was the same locket that I saw in Grimmuald Place,” Yato replied. He flopped onto the worn cushioned bench beside Hiyori and stretched his legs out until they kicked the opposite bench.

“Maybe he gave it to her years ago,” Hiyori suggested. “She was his student. Or it could’ve been her parents from when they were in the Order.”

“Or they’re just pieces of jewellery,” Yukine added.

Yato shook his head. “No. It’s like, its calling to me, and…” He knew that he’d seen the locket before. In Hogwarts. “I think I saw the locket in Professor Tenjin’s office, the day when Hiyori got cursed.”

Yukine and Hiyori exchanged a look at each other and then at Yato. So it was recent.

“How can he have it if it’s locked up in Grimmauld Place?” Yukine probed.

“I don’t know.” Yato pushed a hand through his hair. The phrase was driving him mad. ‘I don’t know’. He should know. He should have asked Sakura the first time he found it; asked what it was, asked why the clasp was stuck.

“I told Madame Kofuku as soon as I had the vision,” Yato continued. “She thinks it might be a horcrux, but why would Professor Tenjin hide it from us?”

“Maybe it’s not a horcrux,” Yukine supplied.

“It must be,” Yato shook his head again. “That’s what the vision showed me, and somehow Professor Tenjin knew about the locket and took it.”

It was impossible, what with all the charms and protections on Grimmauld Place, but the headmaster had used it himself as a headquarters in the First Wizarding War. He probably knew the house like the back of his hand.

“If it is, then we don’t really know what Professor Tenjin is doing with it…” Hiyori trailed off.

The insinuation hung over them. They were no strangers to teachers being Deatheaters, but the headmaster? After being hunted by the Ministry and other Deatheaters?

No. It was an impossibility. There would be a reason for why a horcrux had ended up in the headmaster’s hands.

Yato shook his head silently and looked out the window as the train rumbled to life and began to pull out of Hogsmeade’s snow-covered hills, lost in thought.

He refused to believe that Professor Tenjin – a kindly old man who kept him straight in his unruly years, who believed him when the Sorcerer returned, who took the blame for him when the Order of the Phoenix was discovered – was a Deatheater.

[nearlymanaged]

5. Dreaming of Hogsmeade

During the couple of days leading up to Hogsmeade Saturday, James, Remus, and Peter had been talking about Sirius’ birthday whenever he wasn’t around to overhear them. They had decided to throw him a huge surprise party in the Gryffindor common room since he was turning seventeen and they knew that there was no better gift that they could give him than a whole bunch of people celebrating his existence. 

They had put up a charmed poster on the notice board, letting other Gryffindors know about it (if Sirius ever looked at it, it appeared to be a Wizard Card Collectors' Club poster; Remus had also added ‘anyone who tries to talk to Sirius about this SURPRISE party will instantly break out in most painful boils’, which was completely untrue, only because he couldn’t find a jinx like that).

The three boys had been planning on smuggling in some Fire Whiskey and butterbeer, which they were going to pick up in Hogsmeade. So far, it was looking like Peter would be in charge of that, since he was going to spend the day apart from the rest of them anyway, so James had given him his invisibility cloak to hide the contraband from Filch. 

James and Peter, who had just climbed in through the portrait hole after their last lesson that Friday, joined Remus and Sirius in front of the fire. “Nice weather, eh?” James nodded his head towards the tall, narrow windows being mercilessly lashed by the rainstorm. 

“Better put an Impervius charm on that impeccable mess of a hairdo tomorrow,” Remus quipped lazily. 

“So about that,” James started loudly and nonchalantly. “I can’t go, I have detention.”

“What? Since when?” Remus gaped at him while Sirius murmured ‘nice’ with an approving bob of his head. 

“Prongs here tried to jinx Snivellus in the middle of Potions today,” Peter answered and Sirius gave him another ‘niceee’.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Remus rolled his eyes. 

“It’s not my fault Snape always has to poke his annoying nose into other people’s business!”

“What, did he overhear one of your ludicrous attempts at asking Lily out?” Remus drawled, straight-faced, and Sirius barked out a laugh before catching James’ eye and pretending to cough immediately. “Why did you even keep Potions this year? Not like you really need it?”

“But Evans, obviously,” Sirius explained cheerfully. “The rather more mind boggling question here is why Wormtail still has Potions?”

“Better than history of magic,” the boy shrugged. 

“Fair enough.”

“Speaking of Potions, you mind picking up some newt spleens for me? I used all of the ones I had to mess up Snape’s potion last week.”

“Sure. Well I guess it’s just the three of us then,” Sirius looked at Peter and Remus.

“No! I’m meeting Lydia Rooks at Three Broomsticks, remember?”

“Oh that’s right, how very sweet. We can go chaperone them, Remus.”

“I’d really rather you didn’t,” Peter whined with a definite note of panic rising in his voice. “For once, just let me live.” 

“And go get a drink at Hog’s Head instead? Fat chance,” snarled Sirius. “I don’t much fancy running into half of my extended family.”

“How am I supposed to have more confidence with you two sniggering behind my back!?”

“We don’t snigger!” Sirius exclaimed, apparently shocked by this accusation.

“You can go to Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop!”

“Madam Puddifoot's? That place is always packed to the brim with lovey dovey couples. Matter of fact, why aren’t you and Lydia going there?” Remus raised his eyebrows at his friend. 

“We’re not a lovey dovey couple...yet...”

“Nor Sirius and I,” Remus laughed out.

James could have sworn he heard Sirius mumble something that sounded a lot like ‘yet’, ever so quietly. 

“Please don’t ruin this for me,” Peter looked from one of the boys to the other. 

“Fine,” Remus sighed. “Maybe it will stop raining and we won’t have to be cooped up in there, listening to the smacking and slurping of people sucking each other’s faces.”

“You’re acting like it’s the end of the world,” Sirius momentarily scrunched his eyebrows with an ever present smile playing on his lips. “Cheer up, Moony! We’re going to have a splendid time!” He grabbed Remus’ hand with both of his and clumsily interlaced their fingers, now grinning at him. 

Neither him, nor Remus noticed their two friends exchange looks. 

* * *

“Look, that’s new!” Sirius pointed at the front of a pub a little ways down the road; he knew every square inch of Hogsmeade like the back of his hand, but he’d never seen this place. “Let’s check it out, shall we?”

“I’ve heard about this place. That’s where all the couples go,” Moony said vaguely and led the way.

It was indeed a pub but the inside of it looked eerily a lot like Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. They found themselves a booth with a little table by the window, where they had a surprisingly good view of the main street of the village bathed in sunlight.

Sirius didn’t even notice a waiter approach them but within moments, there were two bottles of butterbeer on their table. “Sirius…” Moony’s breath caught.

“Yes?”

“I…” Remus paused again and rested both of his forearms on the table, almost as if reaching for him. “I wanted to tell you something…”

“Do I have food in my teeth?”

“What? No… I’m glad that James and Peter couldn’t come with us.”

“Oh?” Sirius felt his heart speed up. “How come?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Moony smiled at him, jumping up, and switched seats so that now, instead of sitting across the table from Sirius, they were side by side.

“I’m afraid I’ll need you to elaborate a bit more on this,” Sirius smirked.

“I like you, Sirius. Do I really have to spell it out?” Moony rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance, all while inching closer and closer.

“Fuck, Moony, I thought you’d never say it…” Sirius’ hand found Remus’ waist and pulled him even closer. He could smell him, sweet like chocolate; feel his breath on his own lips. There was just another inch left between them and Sirius pulled Moony into a kiss, unable to resist anymore. Just then, some loud, nondescript noise made him pull away and blink...into his pillow?

Sirius was in his four-poster bed, hugging his pillow. Someone had drawn his curtains open, which was probably the source of that loud noise. He blinked a few times until the two shapes moving in front of him came into focus - it was James and Peter.

“Why’d’you have to wake me?” Sirius grumbled groggily. “It was almost the best part of the dream…”

“What did you dream about?” Asked the subject of the dream himself, walking out of the bathroom, brushing his teeth.

For the briefest of moments, sleep still clinging to Sirius’ brain, he wanted to just come out and say it. “I was at a Queen concert…” He said instead, gazing at Remus with a giddy smile.

“Ugh, why did you wake him, Prongs?” Moony glared at James.

“Because I can’t find any fake blood capsules and I have detention in ten minutes!”

“I like your jumper,” Sirius tugged on Remus’ green sleeve on his way to the bathroom. “Is it new?”

“Is anything I own, really?” Moony asked with a resigned smirk. “I bought it at a charity shop this summer.”

“Well, regardless, I like it.”

“I’ll know where it went when it goes missing from my trunk,” Remus said, referring to Sirius’ tendency to borrow his friends’ clothes without asking.

“Nah, I like it on you,” Black cast a hungry look at Remus through the open door.

Still relishing the memory of his dream, Sirius was in no need for improving his mood. But he grinned to himself even wider, remembering that it was going to be just him and Moony going to Hogsmeade together in a little bit. Not that he expected the dream to come true, but...what better way to spend a whole day? In fact, he had to admit, he was enjoying all this pining in a weird way. He didn’t even care that the weather was absolutely dreadful.

* * *

It was raining cats and dogs the whole way to the village, and by the time Remus and Sirius reached Honeydukes, they were completely drenched. Somehow, the charm they’d put on themselves, that was supposed to protect them against the pelt of icy drops, wore off halfway there. Remus took his time examining all the different flavoured and shaped chocolates, carefully weighing his options between tried and tested, and brand new ones. As usual, the shop was filled with Hogwarts students, some of whom were girls that, despite all the magical sweets surrounding them, only had eyes for Sirius (and now a couple of boys too, since the news of Sirius sexuality had spread throughout the school within hours).

Remus was trying to not pay too much attention to it; he had been doing that for over a year and there was no reason to change his tactics now. But, he noticed pretty soon, Sirius kept telling his flirty admirers that he needed to go help his friend, only to silently follow Lupin around as he worked his way through shelves and stacks of chocolate. Very dog-like, Remus thought to himself with a small smile. But then he wondered if Sirius’ behaviour was linked to him running away from home. It seemed like that made sense - he had a lot going on in his life, maybe that’s why he’d slowed down with the flirting and the snogging since they’ve been back at Hogwarts. Sirius didn’t talk much about it at all, acting as though everything was fine, but Remus wondered if his friend was okay every now and then. 

After Honeydukes, they went to Zonko’s, where they spent another half hour, again surrounded by Hogwarts students. The last stop before they could hide out of the damp cold somewhere and hopefully wait for the rain to stop was J. Pippin’s Potions.

A little bell rang above the door as they walked in, causing the only customer in the shop to turn around.

“Snivellus,” Sirius nodded his head and Snape mumbled something in return that most definitely wasn’t a compliment. “What was that?” Sirius’ body leaned forward, either about to walk over to Snape or hex him, but Remus grabbed his forearm warningly. He was the first one to admit that he did a terrible job at stepping in and putting a stop to things like that, like any other prefects would have done. But it wasn’t for lack of understanding that he should have. And it was certainly easier to practice when it was just one of his troublemaker friends.

“Come on, we’re not on school grounds,” Sirius whined like a child asking for another scoop of ice cream.

“All the same, this git is not worth our time or energy.”

“Better listen to your boyfriend, Black.” Snape sneered, noticing Remus’ movement. “Nasty-tempered monsters, these werewolves.”

This time, Remus distinctly felt Sirius plunge his hand into his wand pocket and squeezed his arm again, a little rougher this time. “Bog off, Snape,” Lupin scoffed at him, but all he could think about is that he had just referred to him as Sirius’ boyfriend. He felt embarrassed for thinking about it, what with the given context, and yet, he couldn’t help it.

“Is that what your parents said to you?” Snape was looking at Sirius again, evidently overcome by some sort of feelings of unfounded courage.

“Didn’t you hear what my werewolf boyfriend said? Bog off, Snivellus.”

“I’m just curious. I mean, that has to sting. When your own family can’t stand your ugly face so much, they kick you out before you’re even of age.”

“Shut the fuck up, Snivellus.” Remus enunciated calmly; before he knew it, he was standing right in front of Snape, the tip of his wand no more than an inch away from his greasy nose. And yet, his mind was dragging behind, stuck in the moment when Sirius referred to him as his boyfriend. Of course, contextually, it did not mean anything, but just hearing him say it made Moony giddy.

Before Snape could make up his mind about whether he really was willing to test his luck, the shopkeeper reappeared from the back room. “Oi! What in the name of Merlin is going on here?!”

“Just friendly banter,” Remus gave him a polite smile, putting his wand away. 

Snape paid for his stuff and scrambled out of the shop faster than you could say Quidditch. Sirius and Remus got James’ supplies and, as soon as they stepped out into the pouring rain, decided it was time for Madam Puddifoot’s. All the while, once the ‘boyfriend’ induced daze wore off, Remus was thinking about Sirius’ predicament with his family. He knew that Sirius’ parents were rotten people, and Sirius had openly rejoiced about never having to go back to their home ever again at least ten times in the few letters they had exchanged over the summer. But Remus knew better than to assume that it was as simple as that.

Once they were out of the rain, sitting at a table, hot drinks in hand (black coffee in Sirius’ and green tea in Remus’), Moony decided that this was as good a time as any to check in on his friend. ��Padfoot, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.” 

At these words, Sirius perked up with an alarmed look rearranging his face. “You have? About what?”

“Well, I know that you say you’re fine - and I am happy for you, I am - but I also know that given the choice, you’d rather be on speaking terms with your brother…” Remus trailed off, allowing Sirius to pick up where he left off.

“Oh. That. Yeah…”

“We haven’t really talked about it, and I guess I just want to make sure that you know that I’m here for you.”

“I know, Moony. You’re not wrong, I would choose to not have Regulus change direction whenever he sees me in the hallways. But it’s always been an uphill battle. He takes pride in being his parents' son and getting tangled in all that Dark shit,” Sirius scrunched his nose, as if smelling something foul right under it. “They’re all like bowtruckles on doxy eggs, they’re a family. And, to be honest, Mr. and Mrs. Potters’ house feels a hundred times more like a home to me than that dreadful place ever did. I’m not just saying it, I am happy...er. Happier.” Sirius flashed him an eerily dog-like grin and Remus nodded.

“Good.”

“Have you got any other inquiries or is this the end of the interview?”

“Just one: why are you such an obnoxious prick?” Remus rolled his eyes with an involuntary smile.

“Don’t act like you don’t love my obnoxious prickness.”

“That wasn’t the question. Regardless, whenever you’re feeling less happy...er, you don’t have to sulk by yourself. It’s very unbecoming.”

“Thanks, Moony.” Sirius grinned, an unbridled smile on his face. “So do they have any food here? I could eat a hippogriff!”

It never did stop raining and eventually, the two Marauders decided to head back to the castle. Given the weather, it was no surprise that more and more people were filing into the shop, so before Remus could lead the way out, he stopped by the door to let a little old lady walk inside first. A dirty white poodle, just as old as its owner, by the looks of it, was trailing behind her very slowly, swaying slightly. Unable to resist a mixture between pity and kinship, Remus bent down to give the dog a scratch behind its ear, and then finally dove out into the rain.

“You never pet me when I’m a dog.”

Remus raised an eyebrow at Sirius’ odd statement. “You never pet me when I’m a werewolf.”

“Kinky.”

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Mutilated Mannequin (Part 14)

He has yelled at her before, belittled her, and called her names. But he has never slapped her before. She is lucky that he had the sense to slap her arm instead of her face, she hates to imagine the damage he’d have done to her still healing chin. 

“You can walk to school today.” Ozai declares loud enough for even Zuko to flinch.

“I’ll be late.” 

“Then you better hurry.” 

And that is just the punishment for losing the election. But he isn’t done with her. He expects her to be at school on time but he won’t let her leave. “And just where the hell were you last night!?”

“I decided to go to the park and look at the stars longer, I fell asleep.” She lies. She is already in deep, the least she can do is try to dig herself out. “The school is offering a trip to NIR&Ex, I wanted to show that I should be the one to go.” 

“I can pay them to let you go.” 

“I want to know that I earned it. That I’m good enough. I want my skills to get me in...” She just wants to be good enough for someone. Anyone.

“What skills?” Ozai scowls. “Look at this.” He holds up a copy of her report card. Mostly A’s save for a B in geometry. He shoves the offending paper at her and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just get your ass to school and try to learn something this time. 

“Yes, father.” 

She doesn’t have time to eat breakfast nor pack lunch. She tries to text TyLee and Chan for a ride. They are still pissed. She would try Jet but he takes the bus and Yue lives on the other side of town. 

At least it is sunny. Chilly but sunny.

.oOo.

This time around, Azula doesn’t really try to talk to anyone. She isn’t in the mood for conversation.  She has to focus on her academics anyhow. Lunch is every bit as awful as she expects. Nothing on the school lunch menu appeals to her; it is all ridiculously greasy and smells as though they have been reheating the same meals for weeks now. Not that it matters, between her nerves and the hollow ache in her chest, she doesn’t have much of an appetite anyways. 

Having no tray to hold, Azula leans herself up against a wall and stares at her feet. She stuffs her hands into her pockets. Every now and again, she catches one of her former tablemates staring. TyLee’s are always of the sympathetic variety, while Chan’s are vicious and cutting. Yue’s are judgmental.

Somehow none of them matter. 

“Hey.” 

Azula looks up. 

“Do you want to sit with us?” Katara asks. 

Azula looks from her old table to Katara’s and then back down at her feet. The wall seems to hold her in place for a time but she pushes herself away from it and slumps quietly into the spot Katara has opened for her. 

“Are you okay?” Suki asks. 

But she still isn’t up for conversation. 

“Do you want some of my food or something?” Toph motions to her tray of chicken nuggets. Azula has a feeling that if she were to squeeze one of them, she would create a puddle of grease. She shakes her head, no.

It takes several more attempts at conversation for them to realize that she doesn’t have the energy to partake. The bell rings and Katara leaves her with some final words, “you can sit here tomorrow if you want.” 

She supposes that she should at least have the decency to respond to that. “Okay.” 

Katara offers a faint, sad smile. Azula gathers her things and heads for the door. 

“Hanging with the nerds now?” Jet asks. 

Azula shrugs. 

“You just got your face all fixed up, why waste it on those freaks?” 

Another shrug. 

If father isn’t happy with her then it has all been for nothing anyways. 

.oOo.

His fury takes on many forms. The newest of them is a declaration. “I have decided to reschedule your appointment. You will have your final procedure done this weekend.”

Azula snaps into attention, her pencil falls from between her fingers. “Wh-what?”

“This weekend. I’m getting tired of looking at those puffy cheeks.” 

They flush. “But I’m still recovering from…” 

Ozai rolls his eyes. “Don’t start acting like your brother. This weekend, bring something to keep you entertained.” 

“Yes, father.” 

He leaves the room and befalls a weighty silence. Azula looks at her essay assignment. The paper is spotted with two small wet splotches. She pushes the notebook aside and eyes the table.  

She is just about as ready for her final surgery as she had been for the first one. 

She pushes her chair in and makes her way to her bedroom. She lays there staring at the wall as hours slip by. She lays there until a knock sounds on her door. It is too light to be Ozai’s. Ever rude in mannerism, Zuko invites himself in when she doesn’t respond to his rapping. 

“I don’t think that you should get that surgery so soon after the last one.”

“I don’t think that I should get it at all.” She says softly. Far too late, she decides that she misses her old face. Even if it had been softer and less aesthetically pleasing. She misses feeling genuine. More painfully, it strikes her that if she had just waited, maybe later teenhood and adulthood would have naturally sharpened her features. “It was a mistake.” 

Zuko visibly cringes. 

Azula pulls herself upright, her hair falling in long tangles over her shoulders. “I’m tired, Zuzu.” 

“Yeah, father is draining to be around.” Zuko rubs the back of his head.

“Well, it’s your turn to be the golden child.”

Zuko sniffs, “yeah right, he just hates both of us now.” 

“I guess that he’ll calm down after I get the surgery.” 

Zuko cringes again.

“I really don’t think that you should.” 

“That’s not up to you, Zuzu.” She isn’t sure that it is up to her either. 

.oOo.

The rest of the week seems to blend and blur to the point where each day seems to blend into the next. A blurb of learning and tactless comments from her former friends. Perhaps an occasional sympathetic stare from TyLee. The monotony of it all is only broken by a heated phone argument that is taken on a friday afternoon. 

He has her on speaker so Azula can hear every word. 

“You made her get what!?” It is a voice that she hasn’t heard in ages. A voice that used to sing she and Zuko nursery rhymes before bed. 

“She’s going to be better off for it.” Ozai insists. 

“She’s still growing!” Ursa exclaims, confirming what Azula had finally come to realize. “Her face hasn’t fully developed yet and you’re already changing it?” 

“Did she tell you about this?” Ozai growls. 

“No!” With the same lateness Azula had, Ursa realizes exactly who she has thrown under the bus. 

“That boy should mind his own business.” 

Azula supposes that it is nice to know that someone is trying to get her out of tomorrow’s surgery. Not that the attempt will amount to anything. Perhaps it is unhealthy, but she spends the rest of the evening staring at the remaining portion of her face that is actually hers. She wakes up the next morning still seated in front of her vanity set. 

There is one message on her phone, a simple good morning. She has almost forgotten that she had given her number to Katara. It is such a small little thing but it makes her smile. Only for a flicker before Ozai demands her to join him for breakfast. A stiff and tense breakfast where he tries to talk to her as though he hadn’t slapped her. As though he isn’t about to make her alter the last aspect of her face that is truly hers. 

“I am proud of you.” 

Her heart swells. She knows that it is a game but it is so nice to hear. 

“For what?” 

“For getting all of the surgeries without protest. We’re just going to have to worry about that math grade…”

She lets him ramble on, simply nodding along. 

.oOo.

“Dr. Koh will see you now.”

Azula shoots Ozai a wide-eyed look. “Where is Dr. Guhira?”

“I forgot to tell you, Dr. Guhira refused to do the surgery so soon after your last one. He also said something about having a feeling that you didn’t really want the surgeries. So I found a doctor who is willing.”

“If I’m doing this, I want Dr. Guhira to perform the operation.” 

Ozai rubs his forehead. “We are already here, you are getting the surgery. Unless you’d like a repeat of Wednesday night.” 

Azula’s head spins as she peels herself off of the chair. She feels as though she is performing some sort of funeral march as she shakily makes her way towards the waiting nurse. The operating room seems to take on an icier air as she waits to meet Dr. Koh.

“Good morning, Ms. Kasai.” Dr. Koh holds out a hand. He is a tall man, an almost creepy fellow. Almost. He has a face that makes her skin crawl. His features are exaggerated. Doll-like. He is more plastic than flesh. She shudders as she takes his hand. 

He flips through pages on a clipboard. “Lets get started, shall we?” He slips the anesthetic mask over her face.

“Aren’t you supposed to outline first?”

“I know how to do my job, Ms. Kasai.” 

In the pit of her stomach, Azula doubts that. “Dr. Guhira always outlined where he was going to…”

“I have done this enough times, I don’t need to outline.” 

Azula swallows as the hiss of gas fills her ears. The anesthesia puts a halt to any further protests. She dreads what she will awaken to. 

.oOo.

She expects to wake to a sharp shooting pain, instead she finds complete numbness that Koh insists is normal. She believes him but only to an extent. She grips her father’s hand with a force that makes him wince. 

“Your face will remain swollen for about two weeks…” by now she knows the drill. Liquid diet, coming in for bandage changes, and only light exercises. Over excursion won’t be a problem she feels much too nauseous and lethargic to do anything but drag herself to bed and elevate her head. 

Ozai allows her another week off. She is surrounded in shiny things; new necklaces and rings, a new purse, and a new music player. A new dress hangs in her closet over a pair of shoes that match the dress Ozai hadn’t allowed her to wear to homecoming. It is all lovely but it does little to remedy her anxiety. 

Anxiety that does a good job of masking the first sign that something isn’t right. She is sweating profusely and still feels terribly queasy. She doesn’t have the energy to return any of her missed calls and text messages. 

Most of them are from Katara, she decides that she will respond to her first whenever she finds the motivation. The messages range from simple greetings and words of encouragement to light hearted pictures she’d found somewhere on the web before they turned to expressions of concern. 

Apparently, a week with no word from her has also been enough to get Chan’s attention. 

Distantly, in her mind, she knows that she should be elated at the chance to make amends with him but she doesn’t feel like picking up her phone. Every time she shifts, a throbbing sensation bombards her head. 

“How are you feeling?” Ozai asks. He sets a bowl of oatmeal on her nightstand. It is the second sign that something is amiss. Typically he sends one of the maids to serve her. 

“It still hurts.” An understatement. 

She is in unbearable pain.

It aches something sharp as though the scalpel is still embedded under her flesh, or perhaps, a feeling that her own bones are penetrating her skin. Had Koh removed too much fat and tissue. This, of course, is applicable to only the left side of her face. The right side lacks sensation entirely. He had said that the numbness would clear but she is still waiting. 

“I can’t feel…” She motions to her right cheek. 

“It has only been a few days, Azula.” Ozai cuts in. “Wait for the swelling fade before assuming that something is wrong.” 

“Something is wrong.” Azula insists. “Call Dr. Guhira, he’ll tell you.”  She doesn’t even put in an effort to keep the tremble out of her voice. “Something is wrong.” She repeats softly. 

Ozai takes her hand, “I know that these operations have been stressful, but this is your last one and you will be thankful when the swelling is all gone and you see how beautiful you are.” 

“Because I wasn’t before?” 

Perhaps she is only seeing what she wants to see, but she can swear that something flickers in his eyes; regret? Sympathy? Pity? Doubt? She isn’t sure, but she doesn’t like it. She likes it just as little as she likes her new face.

[pingou7]

A car, two cops and a stardust — a RebelCaptain road trip fic

by @pingou7 pingou  for @thestarbirdfromtheashesStarbird

(aka the Road trip fic Diego Luna’s filmography made me write)

Read and enjoy, and please consider leaving me a few words.

Summary:

As the dusty roads criss under Kes Dameron’s old car, Cassian Andor lets the wind mess with his hair through the open window. Dust, sunshine, laughter, its easy to recapture the taste of days long gone.

(…)

At a gas station near Corpus Chirsti, when they climb back after taking a piss, both jump out of their skins as a random brunette, eyes thunderous, hisses dangerously from the backseat:

“Just pretend I’m not here.”

Update: Part 7 is published, give it a chance !

Read more on AO3 (or under the cut)

Part 7 — From Delicias, Chihuahua to Fresnillo, Zacatecas — Day 5.

Cassian, barely up to consciousness, realizes that five days in, they’re nowhere close to Bernal, way behind on their usual schedule. He gets up groggily and searches for the only pair of clean pants he has left in his suitcase, realizing that keeping him respectably clean before Bernal is soon going to cause further delay. Echoing his thoughts, Kes mutters sleepily about how he really needs to find a Laundromat today — apparently his married state left him spoiled in the domestic department.

For a few hazy minutes, neither take Jyn into account until she snorts and Cassian’s world is thrown out of its axis in a blink again. By contrast, she doesn’t seem perturbed by their presence nor bothered by her own lack of fashion choice. She has even cleaned her clothes in the sink with a bit of soap. Kes mocks her for it, but the obvious resourcefulness it shows, as slight as it is, doesn’t go unnoticed by either men.

She sends them a withering glare, but it’s not as if they’d ask her to do their laundry! The sight’s familiar that’s all: Dolores had a really big stone tank like this one, outside of her house. Before that, Mama Dameron and his had liked to use it to clean laundry too, or the boys when they were young enough to do so. His hazy impression of it was deep, and cool, and he remembers splashing around gleefully.

A vision from another time comes unbidden then, his brother in his place, giggling while himself stood guard. He’d wished for Cass to join him... but at six he had felt too old. He’d refused and Marco pouted, sulking. His stomach plummets violently at the recollection and Kes has to snap his fingers in front of him to pull him back to the present.

“Cassian? You look green, you’re not gonna be sick, are you?”

Oh, he’s sick all right, he’s alive, and the sight of a soapy sink is enough to make him lose it. Previous travels to Mexico weren’t as bad, so why is he so vulnerable, all of sudden? His weak emotional state darkens his mood and he does his best to shrug his best friend's concern away.

After all, the reason for his anxiousness rests squarely on Jyn's shoulders, he assures himself. Truth be told, it’s better pondering on her current family issues than his former ones. Kay would say it’s a pathetic attempt at avoiding his own problems, but he’s not here to shake some sense into him and Kes’ pretty indulgent that way.

She doesn't ask what prompted them to stop here, even come morning and as Cassian locks the door behind them a few minutes later, neither men fill her in. It wouldn't be important to her anyway. The vacancy of the house is obvious, yet Cassian puts the key back exactly where he found it, just in case. Someone might have use of that in the year separating them from their next stop? It'd be so nice if people were to finally fill that dormant sad place with laughter and life. All has been gone for a decade, now...

"Cass, c'mon, are you driving or shall I?"

He opts for getting behind the wheel and smacks his brother's hand away from the radio. No more sappy songs, for they have more than seven hours of driving ahead — and at that Jyn groans, declaring them insane:

"It's nonsense. You could have just bought a plane ticket and we would have gotten to your destination faster."

"Right, actually that's the plan for the return home. You're pretty judgmental for someone who imposed herself on us, girl."

"You're not imposing yourself, Jyn," Cassian denies quickly. "It's just the farewell trip of this piece of junk, and Kes wanted to dispose of it where he first got it. We wanted to enjoy the last ride."

"Well, do you?" Jyn asks with a smirk in their direction.

Kes looks at Cassian with a gleam in his eyes but he feigns innocence as he declares her company to be enjoyable in his most neutral voice. For a second here he thinks Dameron will strangle himself with laughter but he keeps his trap shut. Instead, it's Jyn who speaks again.

“For the record guys, I'm relieved to have ended up with you, despite the long driving and corny music, hitchhiking sucks.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“Nope, I didn’t expect to tag along, at first, you know? Besides I can be traced back to some extent. People talk. I can be found.”

“Right, because traveling with cops on vacation makes so much sense when you're fleeing...”

“Less work for you in case it turns bad, but meanwhile I stay relatively safe, that’s a win-win in my book.”

"Why would things turn bad, Jyn?"

“Why wouldn't they," she bites back instantly, "everything has always soured where my father's concerned. I'm just enjoying the reprieve I get."

Her resignation ignites Cassian's fury, because she can't be so fatalistic yet, without giving herself a chance. She can’t surrender without trying to turn the odds in her favor, without a fight.

"Everyone doesn't have the luxury of having such a determined mindset. Generally I prefer to be left alone, Cassian."

"If you're so convinced your situation will explode, why bother at all then? Just hide yourself away until you're an old frightened woman."

"I've got moderate chance to reach that point if I don't hide, so keep your condescension to yourself!"

"Everyone lost something, is struggling day by day. Some just decided to do something about it."

"Hey, don't have a spat in my car," Kes intervenes in his Dad voice, rubbing his temples, "besides, Stardust, you're not alone, you've got us in your corner."

Her look is still dubious and okay, maybe Cassian handled this the wrong way, but she cannot be passive and defiant all at once. One way or another, she will have to take a stand and he doesn't mind pushing her until she does. Power above made them cross paths for a reason, and he'll be damned before he lets her go away unchanged.

She has already changed him, but how he cannot define yet.

The remaining four hours of travel pass without the sound of her voice. The Charolastras don’t feel obliged to fill the silence however so Cassian tries to shut his mind off the memories progressively leaking in his head, as the scenery passes around them. Nothing to distract him, not even their silent fugitive or Kes absently humming an ABBA song of all things...

“You’re dreadful, you know that cabrón? With the amount of stupid songs you got memorized, it’s a wonder you can function at all.”

“You like ABBA rudo.”

“Yeah right, sorry to disappoint but it’s getting on my nerves. The only time i enjoy their repertoire is when I’m drunk and you know it.”

He prays Kes won’t disclose the drunken rendition he made of Super Trooper with Alexsandr Kallus and Ahsoka Tano but he keeps his vows and stays mercifully quiet. Jyn isn’t likely bound to ensure his wellbeing however and starts to belt out “Waterloo” pretty loudly and off-key just to mess with him. Kes sniggers and joins in, like the false brother he is. Sab’s house in Fresnillo suddenly seems absurdly further away but he can’t bring himself to stay mad. When Jyn sends him an impish look in the mirror as Kes switches to “Take a chance on me” he lets a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

By the time they reach Sandro Saba’s house, the air within the car is almost cracking with restlessness. Jyn has switched places twice and stares at their smartphones with a mixture of longing and apprehension. They have already told her she could call anybody she wanted but she refused.

They park and amazingly their friend is on the porch, ready to greet them as warmly as ever. His bloodshot eyes and vacant smile, not to mention the smell that comes heavily from his clothes are obvious clues but only Jyn feels the need to point it out:

"Is he...?"

"Yep, stoned."

"And you're okay with that?"

"One, we're not working for the DEA, two we're on vacation, and three his usual recreational use does no harm to anyone. In fact, you're welcome to have some, I'm sure Saba wouldn't mind sharing. You seem a bit stressed out," Kes leers, inexplicably amused by the glare she bestows upon him.

"I'd rather stay an uptight bitch, thanks Dameron," she snaps, making Cassian snort into his beer and his brother guffaw for the whole neighborhood to hear.

"Jyn," Cassian adds more soberly, "you can relax a bit without the magic herbs, make your call and if you worry about Sab, you don’t need to fear him flapping his jaw to anyone. He has the attention span of a goldfish. I swear Poe’s more of a risk. He won’t remember you tomorrow."

“If you say so.”

“I’m sure of it. We had a pretty wild teens.”

“For cops, maybe," Jyn retorts wryly, smirking, “but I can say without a doubt that it was tame next to mine.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t bet on it,” Kes replies with the ghost of the little punks they were audible in his voice.

Cassian wouldn’t bet either, as the bygone tastes of weed and cheap tequila invade his memory. The aftermath of Soccer matches and bar brawls tingles under his skin, too. If he squints, he could call back visions of tables with too many boisterous guests for the food prepared that day. It was a hard yet a simpler life than the solitary one he leads now.

“Do you want to go out? It’s Friday, so... I wouldn’t mind unwinding after spending hours and hours in the car.”

“I know a guy...” Sandro starts slowly, because some people never change, and somehow after mandatory calls, the three tourists end up at a party nearby.

“Want to dance,” Cassian asks Jyn a good while later, because the beat of the song currently playing calls to him.

“I’d rather not, I don’t really know how to dance Cassian. Not sober that is.”

Kes snorts at her honesty, rising his own glass in a mock salute, yet he assures: “Don’t worry, rudo here dances well enough for the two of you.”

“Indulge me,” Cassian drawls, as low and deep as he can.

He revels inwardly in Jyn’s catch of breath. Kes clearly seems to enjoy the sight as well, for he discreetly gives him a thumb up behind her. He feels like the man for a second, and the corners of Cassian’s mouth quirk into a wicked grin. He wants to give her a nudge already, but she remains self-conscious, scanning the crowd of strangers. Maybe he should retract his offer, considering how uncomfortable she is, but he really wants to dance with her.

After a few seconds of pondering, she lets him lead her to the dance floor awkwardly, but his grip is reassuring enough for her to sway to the music. She’s tense at first but he’d seen her move swiftly before and he knows she can be graceful. He gets closer still, his hand finding a proper grip on her hip — perhaps a bit lower than strictly necessary — but as he sends her a reassuring smile she relaxes in his grasp. This is no different than the intimacy they have come to share during the nights, and whether it’s the liquid courage, the music or his proximity, Jyn lets herself be led completely.

She doesn’t know the steps, but she mirrors him at the best of her ability. She’s light on her feet too, so pretty soon both enjoy themselves and she ends up giggling as he makes her spin and fall back into his arms. When the third song ends, she pleads for a break, all pink cheeks and short of breath.

“Come on Captain, you owe me a drink.”

However, when they reach the table, Kes is nowhere to be seen and he even had the decency to pay the tab. Scribbled on the receipt is a rowdy advice in Spanish and the long forgotten emblem of the Charolastras they had invented as kids.

Sometimes, cursí could really be the nicest bloke.

[agustminsuga]

Sihyuk Academy Ch. 8

Genre: BTS X Reader Supernatural AU

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Descriptions of murder/blood, Mentions of family death, mentions of sex (Though consented/reciprocated crosses lines into assault), attempted murder on the main character, swearing (more than my normal use of swear words).

A/N: I am considering doing a part 8.5 to show what happens on Yoongi and Y/N’s end of things for the second half of this chapter. If I do that chapter will hold a lot of content that may be sensitive. Including sexual content. Please be aware of this should I do it. IT IS NOT CRUCIAL TO READ IT FOR PART 9! Don’t feel you have to read it to understand what happens. You can always message me for a very brief description of it or simply wait for the recap that may come in part 9. I am also starting back for my Masters which means I will continue to be slow with updates. I’m sorry, I just ask that you are patient for a bit longer. I love you all <3

Namjoon’s POV

The day came where our class was to learn of the victims of the mythical world’s worst serial killer. According to Charles, there were over 100 victims. But because there were so many we would only cover the most widely known.

Y/N seemed fairly excited to learn about this. She was very prepared for class. But I couldn’t blame her, it is indeed an interesting topic. Especially considering the killers have avoided detection for so long.

Yoongi and Jin soon joined us, Yoongi taking his newly claimed spot beside Y/N. If we didn’t know any better, we all would have thought they were together. But we knew better than to assume such a thing.

“How did you guys sleep?” Jin asks, taking his seat beside me.

“Pretty good” I answer.

“I feel more worn out than when I went to bed” Y/N chimes in.

“Tae pay you a visit again?” We all ask in unison.

“Yes, and he just wants loves to play when he visits my dreams. That boy is never tired.”

I chuckle, but I also know that she’s right. Taehyung is a very sociable person, but he wouldn’t be the boy we love if he wasn’t.

“Ok class, time to look at some dead bodies.” Charles calls as he walks into the room.

“This man has such an odd sense of humor” Jin mutters.

Charles goes over his lecture quickly, mentioning that the last 2 victims were the most important.

“Class, while all of these images have been graphic, these last two will be the worst” He says.

He then switches to an image of a woman who is barely recognizable.

“These last two will not be names, but their stories will be detailed” He says softly.

“This woman was from China, she was killed several years ago and one of the last victims of the first wave. This woman was a mother of four boys, where they are now is unknown.”

He is silent, giving us a moment to take things in. Everyone is silent, no one dared to ask any questions.

“This woman was believed to be targeted because she is one of the wives of a very powerful king. The final victim we shall talk about is a Korean woman who was the king’s first wife.”

Charles moves to put up the next woman’s picture. It holds the image of a woman, her head removed and sitting beside her body. It was then that time seemed to move even slower. As the picture came up, Y/N let out a harsh breather, shortly after she was running from the room. Charles and the entire class stared after her.

“Class is dismissed for the day. We will not have class tomorrow and instead we will have our training course of Friday” Charles says.

I calmly gather my things and wait for the other two by the door. Charles stops us on our way out.

“I’m not sure how much you guys know about her. But she will probably need a friend now more than ever. We were warned of who she may have been. But to be honest, none of us were sure.” Charles says before leaving the room.

~*~

We had attempted to speak with Y/N over the next 2 weeks, but we never made much progress. Yoongi was let into her room a couple of times, mainly when she wanted to sleep. Taehyung had tried to make contact with her, though she made it clear he wasn’t welcome in her dreams.

I walked into the dining hall to see all 6 boys already at the table.

“Is there any progress?” I ask

“She still doesn’t want me in her dreams. Heck, she doesn’t even sleep that much anymore.” Taehyung answers

“She let me in only a few times. But the first couple she didn’t speak, she simply kept staring at the walls.” Yoongi said.

“What about the most recent visit?” Jungkook asked

“She said she knew her mother was dead, but not that she was murdered. She was young when she heard. She also said that her brothers probably knew more than she did.”

“Can we get in contact with her brothers? Maybe they can help.” Jimin said.

“We have no way to contact them. Remember what Charles said? They barely even knew who she was. And, they weren’t even sure where her brothers were.” Jin said.

“They were here during family weekend. There has to be a registry or something.” Hoseok says.

“Lisa was the one who greeted them when they arrived, maybe she has a way to contact them.” I say, finally getting involved.

The other six boys jump up and take off running. Layla walks over to me with a questioning look.

“What has those boys in such a rush?” She asks.

“Trying to do something to help Y/N” I answer

“Mind if I tag along? I’ve been pretty worried lately, but I didn’t want to force myself into her space”

“That’s fine, we’re heading to see Lisa now.”

She nods, following behind me to the second floor.  By the time we arrive the rest of the boys are questioning Lisa. She looks up once we enter the room.

“Ah, Namjoon, welcome. Your friends here are quite hysterical right now, can you please explain what they are trying to tell me?” Lisa asks.

“We were hoping you would have a way to contact Y/N’s brothers. There’s been an incident and we really need to get ahold of them.” I say, joining the others.

“Sadly, I do not. When they had been here they said it was too dangerous to have their information out there. At the time, I was confused, but now I understand why. Maybe if she will allow it, you guys can ask her.”

“She’s locked herself in her room. She hasn’t come out” Yoongi says

“Has anyone checked on her recently?” Lisa asks.

“I did about 4 days ago. She only lets me in the room when she wants to sleep. I haven’t heard from her since.” Yoongi answers.

“She must be exhausted. I can ask the other instructors, but your best bet is to see if she trusts you enough to get her to bring her brothers here herself” Lisa says.

The boys nod and we all turn to leave the room.

“Guys, we should go back to my room and see if we can think of some things” Jin says.

“That sounds like a good idea” Yoongi agrees.

We all make our way to Jin’s room, hoping to think of an idea to bring Y/N from her room. Though, once we get started I noticed Yoongi seemed to be very distracted. He was glued to his phone more than normal, growing more and more agitated as time went on. And I tried my best to calm his emotions.

“Namjoon, get out of my head right now” Yoongi growled.

His harsh tone got everyone’s attention

“I’m just trying to help calm you down. Getting angry isn’t going to do any good.” I say.

“If I feel you in my head one more time I will kill you.”

Once the threat is out Yoongi leaves the room.

“We will have to worry about him later, Joon. Taehyung thought of something.” Jin says, pulling me back into the conversation.

“I can try and see if she’s asleep. If she is, I should be able to jump into her dream. If she’s awake Jin will teleport into her room.” Taehyung says.

“How is he going to teleport?” Layla asks.

“I’m able to force my body out of existence. But to put it simply, I can teleport” Jin says with a smile.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” She asks.

“I’m not sure, but we never did ask. What are you?”

Layla smiles before pulling back her hair, revealing the pointed ears.

“Well that makes so much more sense now.” Hoseok says with a laugh.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I could sense that you were a creature of nature, but I wasn’t sure as to what.”

“I’m just an elf, nothing to fancy, I promise” Layla says with a smile.

“Now that that’s established, I believe we should see if Y/N is sleeping. Taehyung if you would” Jin interjects.

Taehyung nods, closing his eyes to focus. A few moments pass before he’s back.

“She’s awake, there’s no one asleep in this dorm” Taehyung says.

“So what does that mean?” Jungkook asks.

“That Jin hyung will see if she’s in her room” I say.

We all watch Jin to see what happens next. I was even curious as to how to ceased to exist on such a level. If I would have blinked I would have missed it. Jin turned into a faint mist before vanishing completely.

“Gosh, all of you have such great powers and all I can do is grow a tail!” Jimin exclaims.

“If I remember correctly, you kissed her. Now if you ask me, that’s more than just a tail.” I say with a laugh.

“You kissed her!” Taehyung shouts

“She looked me in the eyes!”

The boys started to laugh, but it was cut short by shouting coming from down the hall. We all ran to find where it was coming from, to see Jin throwing Yoongi against the wall. What stood out was how Yoongi was dressed, standing in the hall without a shirt, pants unzipped.

“Someone needs to stay in there with Y/N while I kick his ass.” Jin growls

“What happened?” I ask.

“This fucker tried to kill her. She seems to be ok, but who knows honestly”

I walk into the room to find Y/N crying on her bed, a fair amount of blood around her. Fang marks were littering her neck, not deep enough to kill though. Her eyes looked hollow, making it clear he tried to take her life energy from her.

“I don’t know what happened. He came in here all angry, then started kissing me. I was confused, but… I reciprocated the actions” Y/N says quietly.

“Did you two have sex?” I ask.

“Yes…”

“Let me check the wounds on your neck. Tell me what else happened”

“He bit me, then said he loved me too much to let me live like this. Next thing I know he’s biting me harder and kissing me while I felt more and more lightheaded.”

“He was trying to claim you and then kill you by taking your life energy.”

Y/N begins to cry, jumping into my arms and pulling me close. I look up to see 5 of my closest friends at the end of her bed and Yoongi in the doorway with Charles holding him back.

“I think it would be best if she stayed in your room for a while Namjoon. I will be in contact with you shortly” Charles says before dragging Yoongi down the hall.

We all look at each other trying to wrap our heads around what just happened. But we knew it would take some time to do so.

[missizzy]

Fic: New York State Wizarding School, Part 5: Ernie’s Letter (Harry Potter)

(Read entire fic on AO3)

She finally read the letter back in her dorm, with Fran on the other bed. Her roommate had a book in her hands, but it didn’t look like she was reading very much of it. Hannah would read it to her, but she found she wanted to have a moment with it to herself first. She still hadn’t really talked to anyone, even Alfred, very much about her British friends.

The letter went:

Dear Hannah,

I am starting this letter Wednesday after you left, and I was pleased to hear you had made it back to New York safely, and while I regret your leaving us, I understand your uncertainty about your future at Hogwarts as well as your father’s concerns about your safety, and I think myself it is probably better for you to remain close to him. Of course there are no words that can make up for the terrible loss you have suffered, except to remind you that your mother remains just one victim of the great menace that threatens us all, and because of her death we must now be all the more dedicated to the fight against those responsible for her murder. So far things have not changed much here at Hogwarts, except more people are withdrawing, though so far no more of our dormmates. It is very foolish of them, of course, since they are voluntarily leaving perhaps the safest place in Britain right now, though in the defense of one or two of them, it seems more their parents’ decision than theirs. Their parents wish to have their children within their sights, as if they have the abilities to protect them better than the likes of Albus Dumbledore. One girl, a Ravenclaw, so I would not expect this but there you are, says she simply wants to spend as much time as possible with her family even if it makes her a little less safe, which is more understandable, and yet I do not think the situation so grim just yet. It is different for you, of course, since had you to stayed here you and your father would have been on different continents. I have discovered one of the better things of this year will be Professor Burbage. I know now I was right to keep to Muggle Studies though we all know what my parents think of it and even David seems mystified, and asks me what use it is. I admit, I probably will not have much use for knowing the finer points of how Muggle telephones carry people’s voices back and forth (though how to use is them is another matter) or the difference between various kinds of Protestant Christians. But I think I finally know what it is about Professor Burbage that we always agreed was different but could never identify. She has an ability to look at the world unlike any I have seen from anyone, even, though it pains me to comparing him unfavorably to anyone, Professor Dumbledore. She seems to see how large it is, and how many people there are in it, and how much variety there is amoung them. She talks about Muggles who live in places like Asia and South America, who will probably never have to worry about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Though a lot of them have terrible powerful Muggle people to worry about instead, which of course doesn’t affect us, but it still makes you look at it a little differently. Not that we must be any less on our guard, of course. Justin and Alice especially worry for their parents. They fear their wealth and high rank might make them a more desirable target, if the Death Eaters wish to make a statement about viewing all Muggles as being equally low. They were sure to urge their parents to be more careful in their day to day lives before traveling to Hogwarts, but they know how precious little that is to do. The Muggle-borns too have a reason to not wish to remain at Hogwarts, and in their case it is sometimes a more legitimate one, though when Alice did not even join the DA last year, I do not know how much protection they could offer their parents even if they lived with them, especially if the Ministry was foolish enough to harass them, which they just might be. We get much of our news from Susan. Even with her Great-Aunt recently murdered, she still has members of her family in high places, and she has received two letters today. One she said very angrily she did not want to talk about, and I fear her family, after having so many of their members murdered by Death Eaters already, has now lost still more. But from the second she has told them the Ministry believes they know where the Lestranges and Carrows are, though the letter does not specify where, for obvious reasons. I must cease for tonight; I have much homework. I will write more here tomorrow evening. Thursday: Conni has withdrawn. She and her parents decided on it, I’m afraid, because of your mother’s murder, though she could not bring herself to tell us until today, when the paperwork was finished and her parents came to pick her up. Also I fear Eloise will be gone very soon; she has hinted at it, but not come out and said so yet. Conni had lunch with us one last time before saying goodbye. She said she and her family are thinking of leaving the country all together, selling the cauldron business they’ve had for centuries and going probably to Australia. She has promised to keep in touch, but I fear she will be fickle and forget. Susan is very angry. Megan has cried twice. Unfortunately, Wayne has latched onto the idea of going to Australia, at least for his parents. He does have to worry about the safety of his mother, of course. He and the Halagards both seem to believe that even if You-Know-Who expands his reach all over Europe and possibly into Asia and/or Africa, and, as we now know well, has struck in North America, Australia will remain too far away. I suppose they might truly be safe for a few years at least, especially when I consider Professor Burbage’s talk about how big the world really is. But what happens if everyone runs away and no one stays to fight? Again, were Wayne and especially his parents to do so, it would be understandable. But the Halagards are as pure-blooded as my family, maybe even more. I’m afraid if they take this route I shall always feel disappointment in Conni, whom I thought much braver than this. Friday: I meant to send this letter yesterday, but I was distracted by a fight in the common room. The second one this year; I cannot understand it. We ought to be more scrupulous about getting along with each other in a time like this, and it seems the younger students are instead less. I am not even certain what started it. It may have been one third year girl trying to copy the homework of another, or it might have been a fifth year boy trying to jinx a first one, or it might have been a dispute ongoing for several days involving someone’s boyfriend; everyone tells me something different. By the time I got downstairs there were fifteen students involved, with all seven years represented amoung the fighters. One fourth year had to go to the Hospital Wing, and two more younger students were spared that only because Brian Rogerson was kind enough to take half an hour reversing the jinxes on them. Multiple bystanders were also hit, though thankfully nothing they could not take care of themselves. I have given them all detention, of course, and Professor Sprout I believe could use some help in the greenhouses. I also spoke to all of them very strong of how wrong their behavior was, and I hope at least the younger ones will listen, but the older ones are another matter. There was one seventh-year, old Jack Mallinus, whose behavior had gotten even worse than it has been, and whom I only tried to speak to because it would have looked very bad had I not, even though I knew I was wasting my breath. None of the accounts hold him as primarily responsible for the affair, but I would not be surprised if I learned he was anyway. But I actually am not sorry I was delayed in sending this letter, because since then I have received a letter from David containing news I beg you will take heed of and be prepared to respond to if need be. It seems some in the Ministry are talking about if it might become necessary to smuggle Muggle-borns and certain other wizards out of Great Britain; there has recently been two different attacks on two families in Heathrow Airport, and there is concern the Death Eaters are deliberately going after those trying to move out of their reach. I hope that will at least cause those like the Halagards to reconsider their foolish thoughts of flight, but of course we must acknowledge that escape from Britain may, under certain circumstances, become necessary for some. It may also be difficult, while the Death Eaters are so watching, to just go to the coast, mount a broomstick, and fly any which way over the sea, especially if it is an entire family trying to do so. Portkeys may work, but the more alternatives we have, the better. I have been made aware that certain people in the Ministry are working on mapping out traditional if recently unused flying routes which travel from Northern Scotland, though Iceland, Greenland, and parts of Canada before terminating around Lake Ontario. To one that knows them well enough, they provide a better chance at evading Death Eaters than just flying off the coast would. Two of the routes terminate very near New York State Wizarding School, and it is likely refugees using them will come to your valley to seek food and aid. While whether or not they get it may not prove to be entirely within your control, I am sure you, Hannah, will do everything you can for them, and I also hope you will urge your new friends to do the same. It will likely, however, be a few months before any refugees use them, especially, of course, with the evidence that the Death Eaters themselves used them recently; the Ministry is trying to determine which one they used, though this is an exceedingly difficult task. So you have that time to prepare, as does your school; if they have any prudence I am sure New York State’s staff is aware of this possibility. So as to alert you to this as soon as possible, I will right this minute take this letter down to the Owlery. Please write back to me after getting it, and be sure to tell me if anything unusual or concerning has happened at New York State. Remember we are all thinking about you as much as you think of us. Justin, Alice, and David send their love, as I do, from,

Your most loyal friend, Ernest Micus MacMillan

“Do you think the staff knows?” wondered Francesca after Hannah had read the letter out loud to her.

“Of course they do,” said Hannah. “We saw tonight they are very aware things are going on outside the school. Maybe they even decided what they did because they think Death Eaters are using one of the routes, so they might end up near here.” The real question, she supposed, was if they were actually going to do anything to get ready. But she didn’t know what any students could do to get them to.

“Still,” said Fran, “I think we should have a talk with the others about what we could maybe do. I think Sappho could write to her commune. Yeah, a lot of people there don’t like Muggles, but I actually don’t think they mind Muggle-borns quite as much. Some of them might be willing to take some refugees in. They’d be completely safe there.”

“What if they bring their parents?” That was another question that was bothering Hannah, about whether any effort would be made for people like the Finch-Fletchleys, for starters, and then, should they be evacuated, what would be done for them then. “We shouldn’t just say they probably won’t; what if they do?”

“Well, maybe we’d have to find somewhere else, then,” said Fran. “Still, at least the commune would have those that don’t. It’s worth talking to Sappho about, in any case.”

“All right then, we will.” It seemed a little odd to Hannah how Fran had seemed to be waiting for her to say that, as if the final decision was now to be hers in everything Britain-related as well as everything Defense Against the Dark Arts training-related.

But now Fran was turning away, saying “It’s time for my evening prayers,” which caused Hannah to look at the clock and think it was pretty early to be praying. She still had homework to do, and working while Fran was praying always made her feel awkward. But it didn’t feel right to ask her to do them another time either.

So as her roommate took her rosary out and knelt, Hannah took the letter and lay down facing the wall. She reread it another time. This time she focused on the news of her various friends, worrying about if indeed Susan had lost yet another member of her family, and if Conni and Wayne would both really go to what felt like the other side of the world from America and Britain both, and especially what might happen to Justin and Alice and her other Muggle-born friends and their families. How could all of them escape, even if some of them did?

Also pettier things, like how much trouble Ernie was likely to have as a Prefect; she bet everyone at Hogwarts was feeling a lot more restless than usual. She felt guilty for abandoning him then, though surely someone could appoint another girl Prefect, maybe one who would be better at it than she had been. She thought Susan might be. Or maybe if a lot of students dropped out, the staff wouldn’t view it as necessary, although Hannah thought that would be stupid of them.

The Next Morning

Hannah awoke gasping and near tears. She might have even shouted, though she wasn’t sure she’d actually done that out loud.

Though it seemed Francesca had heard something, because she was still coming down and telling herself it had only been a dream when her roommate was hovering over her. This was hardly the first nightmare Hannah had had since her mother’s murder, and she wondered at how Francesca was always so quick to hurry over. “What was it this time?” she was asking.

“My father,” said Hannah, but as she tried to remember what she’d dreamed happened to him, she found the dream was already fading. All she could recall was his screaming her name and begging her for help.

“He should be all right,” Fran reminded her gently. “He’s a strong and capable wizard who’s on his guard, and we don’t even know that there are any Death Eaters on the continent at the moment.”

“I know,” Hannah sighed. Fran stepped back so she was able to get out of bed, and she went to the window and pushed aside the curtains. The now familiar sight of the valley’s morning fog soothed her.

“Do you expect your friend’s owl soon?” Fran asked, and Hannah shrugged. That Eldred had not come up to her dorm room the previous night made her think the poor bird had exhausted himself. He was probably going to be doing a lot more journeys to North America and back. She didn’t want to push him any more than necessary.

Still, she probably did need to get her letter off that day, and in fact when she turned away from the window, the first thing she went for was the letter she’d been working on since sending off her first letter to Ernie and Justin with the basic news that she’d gotten home and then enrolled in New York State. Idly she read the last section, which was now two days old:

Friday: I know you’re never happy to hear me say this, Ernie, but I wish I didn’t have so much work to do this weekend. Mr. Rivers, Mrs. Hemlock, and Miss Ferreira all want us to write two rolls of parchment, and remember American rolls are bigger than British rolls, plus Mr. Rivers gave us a second half-written, half-practical assignment, and I also have five different chapters from four different books to read. Some of it is still easy, but not all of it anymore. I wouldn’t mind, but the DA takes up so much time too. It’s not easy to be both a student and a teacher at the same time, and I’m starting to think Harry Potter’s ability to be is yet another amazing thing about him. No new people saying they want to attend the meeting tomorrow, so right now I have 14 people who all say they might, and six where I’m really certain they will. Sappho is vouching for her two teammates, though one of them has said apologetically he can’t make it, though he didn’t say why. I’m hoping to get some word of who’s attending for sure at breakfast tomorrow; three people did say they’d tell me then, though of course they still might not.

It had felt like a longer day had passed since then it should have. It was partly the DA meeting, and what had happened in the library before it, plus what Mr. Bobwhite had said at dinner that evening, but mostly because of Ernie’s letter. It was weird how the thought of what was going on over in Britain was constantly with her, but even when it was the cause of so much of what she was doing, it was still shoved to the back of her head most of the time. She was just so busy. She felt as if the events of weeks had happened to her from reading that letter.

That might have been why it took Hannah a little bit of time before she felt up to wetting her quill and writing Sunday: Sorry I didn’t write yesterday, but it was a day capped off by receiving your letter, which I spent the whole evening reading. She went on then, describing her encounter with the two boys in the library, how the class had gone, and the dinner announcement. After a moment’s hesitation, she also related her conversation with Berenice, and confided her fears that she herself was the cause of the school being in increased danger. I suppose if I was not to stay at Hogwarts then I have to go somewhere, she wrote, but I don’t like putting friends like Alfred in more danger than they already are. I guess I just have to work that much harder to teach them Defense Against the Dark Arts.

I will give this letter to Eldred after he’s rested a little, she finished up. Meanwhile, please know I am hoping every day for both of you as well as Alice and all our other friends to make it through safe and sound, and once this letter is gone I will be waiting anxiously for your next one.

Yours truly, Hannah

Eldred arrived for the letter just before she and Fran went down for breakfast. As they watched him fly off with it, Fran said, “You should get an owl of your own. Why don’t you have one?”

“Maybe I should get one,” Hannah agreed. “It’s hard to get any animal across the ocean, but I originally took my cat to Hogwarts. He’s old and sickly now, can’t travel anymore. I just never thought of it though. Maybe I’ll get one next summer.”

The letter was also the main subject on conversation at breakfast that morning, with Alfred especially wanting to know all the details about what was going on in Britain, and the fates of all the people she spent the summers talking to him about. When she told them about what Ernie had written at the end of the letter about possible refugees, Sappho said, “That would set off a fierce war in my community about whether we should take anyone in or not, one that would go on for months and months, and meanwhile, anyone here already would have to go somewhere else. I don’t know how much use I can be, really.”

“But there’s a chance of success?” Hannah pressed.

“A chance, definitely,” she said. “I don’t know how big a one, but a chance.”

“It wouldn’t be bad, I think,” said Max, “having a few more people here. Any kids that came over could join us, though I suppose some of the higher and mightier Hogwarts students wouldn’t be impressed by our weak, backward curriculum.” He didn’t say it as sarcastically as he probably would’ve liked to.

“Anyone else up for a short walk before we tackle the homework we’ve been putting off until today?” Sappho asked.

“If it’s a walk rather than a fly,” laughed Alfred. Hannah found herself agreeing to come, too. Her head was still so full she couldn’t help but crave some exercise to clear it.

It was already much colder outside than it had been that first Saturday morning when she’d gone out to fly with Sappho, especially within the fog, which was very thick that day. In fact, when the mist made contact with her hands and cheeks, Hannah felt a sensation almost like sharp ice on her skin. It was more than she thought was natural, and so she asked, “Do any of you know if this fog has much magic in it?”

“At least a little, I think,” said Alfred. “Might depend upon the day, though.”

“I think there are ghosts in the fog,” said Sappho. “I’ve even heard stories about people hearing them. Maybe if we’re quiet enough, we will.”

“I don’t know if I want to,” said Alfred hastily. Hannah didn’t say so, but she definitely didn’t want to. Ghosts were too close to death to her, when she’d still put relatively little time between herself and the death of her mother.

The others probably didn’t either, because everyone kept on talking as they walked to keep the ghosts away. She started to feel better. The fog’s icy touch was something she could get used to, once she reminded herself she’d never heard of anyone getting hurt by this fog, so it was probably harmless.

It did make it hard to keep very good track of where they were going, though, and when they suddenly found themselves facing trees, Max exclaimed, “We’ve walked all the way to the woods!”

“You want to go in?” asked Sappho.

Hannah’s first instinct was to say no, though that might have just been because after five years at Hogwarts, her automatic reaction to woods was to think they were dangerous. But once she remembered that wasn’t true for these woods, she was suddenly beset by a wild curiousity, wanting to know what was in them, besides students doing forbidden or unruly things anyway, and she found herself asking, “Are there any paths in?”

“There are several,” said Max. “And if I’m right, we might not be far from one of them. This way.”

Max was right; ten minutes later they were at the foot of one. By then the fog was showing signs of lifting too, and they could see what no problem was immediately in front of them. There seemed no real reason not to go in.

There were now more leaves on the ground than on most of the trees, and they crunched under their feet. If anyone was in these woods, Hannah thought, they would be the ones in control as to whether they met with the group or not, unless they too were this loud. She didn’t mind that, though, especially since she thought they would decide not to. They didn’t bother keep their voices down either, Max happily telling the tale of the first time he had snuck off into the woods when he’d been thirteen, and absolutely nothing interesting had happened, but everyone he had told about it had been jealous anyway.

“You do not want to know how many times he bragged about it when we first became roommates,” said Alfred. “Never mind that by then it wasn’t really a very impressive story anymore; we were too old for that.”

“By the normal definition of impressive, I assume,” said Francesca.

“Oh please,” said Max. “Let me guess, first time in the woods for the good Catholic girl.”

“First time…in a few years,” she grinned at him. “I snuck in here once during my first year. Me and three other girls. Like with you, nothing happened. Except we had a big leaf fight, of course.”

Alfred was laughing at this exchange, and Hannah was listening to him laugh, and because of that she almost missed the whinny. But she thought she heard it behind them, and instantly crazy thoughts filled her head, a fear that somehow someone had come here and waited for them to go into the woods where their bodies would be hard to find, and without thinking she whipped out her wand and stopped walking.

The panic faded after a moment, and then there were just her classmates looking at her funny. “Hannah,” said Francesca, “are you all right?”

She listened behind them; no sound of footsteps. “It’s nothing,” she said. “But I could’ve sworn I heard a whinny behind us.”

“You know, I think I did, too,” said Fran. “Though it sounded…not like most flying horses.”

“You think maybe it’s a unicorn?” asked Sappho, sounding excited. “I’ve heard they’ve been seen in here sometimes. More often, in recent years. It’s thought a lot of the Northeastern North American population has converged here.”

“Who’d you hear that from?” asked Max. “You know if it was from that roommate of yours?”

“Not her,” said Sappho. “More than one person, and from my very first year here.”

“I’ve heard it too,” said Fran. “It’s a story all the girls like to tell. I still wouldn’t assume it’s true.”

“Worth looking,” said Alfred. “Where’d you first hear it from?”

“In an early Care of Magical Creatures class. One of the students asked the teacher if it was true there were unicorns in the woods, and she said there might be, and some people had even claimed to see them, but there was no absolute confirmation.”

“You shouldn’t photograph a unicorn,” said Sappho. “It causes them to get weak.”

“No, that’s not true,” said Hannah. She might not have been in Care of Magical Creatures at Hogwarts, but apparently both Professor Grubby-Plank and Hagrid had been asked about that, and both had said it wasn’t.

“Yes, it is!” snapped Sappho. “We’ve sometimes seen unicorns in the valley at home, but none of us ever even draw them.”

“Oh, that’s just silly.” Max nearly laughed.

“No, it’s not!” Sappho was really getting upset. “What would any of you know? Have any of you even seen a unicorn, outside that one time they brought that mare and her injured foal here two years ago, the pair they wouldn’t let us see except from a distance?”

“They don’t bring any unicorns into Care of Magical Creatures?” Hannah asked, surprised. “They did that at Hogwarts.”

Max shook his head. “I’m afraid here we only handle smaller animals. I don’t know if they’d even have anywhere to keep them. They had to set up a special pen for the mare and foal.”

“What do you tend to work with?” Hannah asked, and that got her a flurry of answers, as she started to hear about clabberts and jobbernolls, jarveys and fire crabs. “We got to see a snidget once,” said Fran. “Everyone got very excited about it.”

“And then most of us didn’t get more than a split second’s look, really,” said Max, “before it went and flew off really fast, and hid somewhere in the greenhouse. I heard it took Mrs. Hemlock two weeks to finally get it out.”

“Hey,” said Alfred, “do you think maybe we could go back? It’s just we’ve been out here for a while, and we all have a lot to do.” Hannah honestly couldn’t tell if he was also feeling a little scared or not.

But Max had an expression that made it clear he was going to demand to know if he was, and right then, she didn’t want to hear it. “I agree with that,” she said. “I’ve got more to do than the rest of you.”

Which, of course, caused Max to instead laugh and say, “Spoken like a true girlfriend right there.”

From him, she could let it pass. “Look,” she started, but then there was the whinny again, and this time she was sure she’d heard it. “There!” she whirled around. “It’s over there somewhere!”

For a moment she feared her companions’ reactions, but then Francesca said, “I think you’re right,” and a moment after that they were all hurrying the way she’d pointed.

It must have been going too fast, though, maybe startled by their large party crashing through the forest. There were no more whinnies, no glimpses of anything, and before they knew it they’d cleared the trees and were back in the fields surrounding the school. The fog had lifted a bit, and they could see the building from where they were standing. At least that made getting back pretty easy.

As they all exchanged looks, Sappho said, “We should go back in without the boys. If there was a unicorn there, she’s more likely to show up if she doesn’t have to deal with you two.”

That resulted in loud protests from both boys, which definitely would have scared off the unicorn even if it had lingered hidden in the area. When Hannah made that observation out loud, Alfred gave her a look like he’d betrayed her, and Fran just sighed, “Let’s go in.”

So they did, but as they walked back, Hannah secretly thought she might go back completely by herself. Not that she even thought there was anything wrong with the other two girls. Heck, she was dead certain Francesca was a virgin at least. But somehow she thought maybe it wanted to see her especially, and maybe it would be less scared if she was alone. It felt worth it, for a chance to meet with a unicorn in the woods like that.

[intoxicatedeuphoria]

BURN THE HOUSE DOWN (Part 2 of 3)

ROYAI WEEK 2017

PROMPT: Day #7 (6/11) - Incendiary RATING:Teens (swearing, innuendoes) WORD COUNT: 2977 (Part II only)

Rebecca will do anything for her best friend, Riza. Tonight, she’ll do whatever it takes to give her a shot at happiness, no matter how brief it may be. If only that damn bastard Mustang would take a hint…

PART I  |  PART II  |  PART III (coming soon)

This story happens immediately after the events of Roy Mustang Observation Diary, where Falman was still a sergeant (instead of a warrant officer), and Fuery was a private, up until the end where Roy promoted him to sergeant, at least according to the English translation floating around the net.

I’ve split the fic into three parts now because I ended up adding almost 3000 words by the time I finished reading two-thirds of the original Part II. I can’t help it. I love Rebecca and Team Mustang, especially Fuery!!

HAPPY ROYAI DAY, EVERYONE~!!

PART II: CHAIN REACTION

Friday, 23:08 hours Dining Room (Turned into a Club), The Verve, East City

After all the preparations had been done, everyone finally settled around the rectangular table in their VIP booth. Rebecca unfurled the curtain divider by the entrance to give their group some privacy.

Riza took note of the seating arrangement. Across her was her best friend sitting on a plush ottoman, her back to the curtain. To Rebecca’s right were Breda and Falman, both sitting on one of the three loveseats in their booth. To her left were Fuery and Havoc, the former trying to rest his head on the taller man’s arm and failing miserably. Finally, Riza shared the last loveseat with the colonel.

The booth was rather small for seven people, and the loveseats smaller still. Riza’s right leg brushed against Roy’s left every time she moved. The contact made her hyperaware of their proximity which was already challenging the limits of propriety – at least for a commanding officer and his subordinate.

The game hadn’t even started yet…

…and knowing Rebecca, nothing less than inappropriate would happen for the rest of their night if she had a say in it.

“Young and wild and free, remember?” The blonde woman muttered to herself. She released a sigh, which did not go unnoticed.

“Is there something wrong, lieutenant?” Roy whispered in her ear, startling her.

She wordlessly shook her head, then shifted her gaze to Rebecca who let out an exaggerated cough.

“Are you done whispering sweet nothings to each other?” She raised an eyebrow at the two highest-ranked officers in the booth.

“We weren’t-“

“It’s not like-“

The dark-haired woman did not let them finish. Instead she clapped her hands as she began speaking.

“With that out of the way, shall we set the rules?" she winked at the rest of them.

Fuery nodded overenthusiastically that his eyeglasses were knocked off his face. “Oops!”

“One man down,” Breda muttered sardonically. “I repeat, we have one man down.”

Falman snickered beside him.

Mustang rested his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. “How do you propose we play this juvenile game, 2nd Lt. Catalina?”

“Hmmm… since we’re all adults here, I propose that we up the ante right from the start!” she answered jovially. “How about instead of the typical truth or dare, we make it shot and truth or shot and dare? After all, the good colonel here already prepared a bottle of some nice vodka.”

Riza massaged her temple after hearing Rebecca’s idea. Things were definitely going to get messy.

“One more thing,” the colonel interjected. “No passing and no changing of choice, alright?”

With his right hand raised, Havoc inquired, “Any objections?”

There were none.

Breda placed the empty champagne bottle at the center of the table, then asked. “Everybody ready?”

Grunts and nods of assent were given, and the bottle finally spun to life.

“…and for the first blood we have…” Havoc commented, serving as the host for the game.

Everyone watched as the bottle slowed down to a stop and its neck pointed to…

“Falman!” the chain smoker called out loudly, using the unopened bottle of vodka as a makeshift microphone.

The man scratched his head in anticipation.

“Soooo… Sgt. Falman, shot with the truth or a dare?” Havoc asked seriously, getting into his role a little too earnestly.

The gray-haired man gulped before choosing the former.

“Does anyone have a question for our good man Falman?” Havoc looked around the table.

While waiting for a response, Roy pried the bottle of vodka from the blonde second lieutenant’s hand to pour a shot for the first ‘victim’ of the night.

Riza almost wanted to stop their commanding officer, but then she realized that the guys plus Rebecca were only trying to have some fun. Their work could be so stressful, and sometimes only alcohol could make them forget for a while.

She was well aware of this. After all, she and Rebecca used to drown their sorrows and stresses in cheap tequila during their academy days. Her best friend introduced her to the wonders – and the subsequent horrors – of hard liquor, and Riza was never the same afterwards. Rebecca once told her drunkenly that it’s what best friends were for. At least Riza knew she’s not going down as easily as Fuery already did. She’d had training with Rebecca, and she learned a few other tricks during the war so she’s pretty confident she could outdrink Falman and Havoc at best.

For some reason, Breda was not drinking as much as he usually did, only sticking to beer since they started drinking. Maybe he knew what a nightmare the hangover would be tomorrow. Wine, beer, and hard liquor made the nastiest mix – the one which always resulted to a monster headache that refused to go away for an entire day.

“Wait, I do!” Breda hollered with a diabolical grin after an awkward moment of silence.

Speaking of the devil… Riza thought wryly.

“Sgt. Falman!” The hefty lieutenant turned to him. “Who do you think is hotter, 1st. Lt. Hawkeye or 2nd Lt. Catalina, and why?”

Falman swallowed hard and then froze in place.

“You’re forgetting something!” Fuery pointed to the vodka-filled shot glass. “Shot first~!!”

The light-haired sergeant downed the liquor, then blurted out, “I think both of them are equally attractive. I mean, 1st Lt. Hawkeye has the cool, calm appeal, while 2nd Lt. Catalina has the messy, vivacious charm.” He took a breath, as if bracing himself for the worst, and then continued, “and I’m pretty sure all the men here would agree that the ladies are very, very, very sexy with their impossibly long legs and all those curves…”

Falman ceased talking when he saw Riza’s eyes narrowing. Meanwhile, Rebecca relished the compliments without hesitation, winking at the terrified man.

“Enough with the flattery, sergeant.” Riza demanded briskly.

“Aww, Riza. He was just being honest!” Rebecca whined. She turned to the blushing sergeant. “Thank you for noticing out feminine assets, and for appreciating them! It’s nice to know that someone still sees us as women even if we work for the military.”

“Thank you, Sgt. Falman.” The blonde woman’s stony visage melted into a small smile.

Roy cleared his throat and said, “Let’s move on to the next one.”

Falman spun the bottle and it pointed to Fuery. The dark-haired young man grabbed the vodka bottle, poured himself a shot, then swallowed it in a blink. Everyone was stunned into silence, until Havoc resumed his commentator-slash-host duties.

“Up next we have the newly promoted, and currently inebriated Sgt. Fuery!”

It was Falman’s turn to ask. “Truth or dare, sergeant?”

“A real man always goes for a dare!” Fuery declared proudly.

“A dare it is.” Falman placed a finger under his chin and remained silent for a minute. He suddenly slammed a hand on the table. “I dare you to ask for a girl’s number in five minutes!”

“SAY WHAT?!?!” Fuery seemed to sober up a little from the dare.

“We agreed on the rules, Fuery.” Breda said matter-of-factly, wiggling his index finger as he did so. “You can’t pass or change your choice. Be a man and ask a girl – any girl – for her number.”

Fuery left their booth to complete his mission. Havoc slid the curtains to one side so everyone had a view of his progress.

Riza felt Roy shift in his seat. She looked at him and was surprised to see that his gaze was already on her.

“Are you alright, sir?” she inquired quietly, holding his stare.

“Yes, of course,” he assured her. “I’m just starting to feel the effects of the whiskey.” He tilted the empty glass in his hand. “It’s my fifth one already.”

“Then I suggest you stop drinking, colonel,” she stated firmly. Roy simply nodded. She raised an eyebrow at him, but he only grinned adorably.

He leaned towards her, then whispered, “A few more drinks won’t kill me, lieutenant.” He moved closer still, until he was practically breathing against her ear, “but your dress tonight sure did.”

Riza rolled her eyes as she gently pushed him away. “Sir, I believe you’re being too close for comfort… closer that what is proper, in fact.”

He looked at her sadly, but said nothing in response.

All of a sudden, boisterous cheering filled the booth as Fuery returned from his task, dispelling the heavy mood that settled between Roy and her.

Riza exhaled in relief. The tension between them was quickly becoming unbearable. His gentle teasing and subtle flirtation were not helping at all. She wished he wouldn’t be so obvious with his feelings since they were currently in public.

But then again, she was at fault, too. She let her guard down because she was enjoying herself immensely. How many times did she dream of going out with him like this? Did he have any idea know how much she envied all the girls he dated since they came back from the war?

She shook her head slightly to clear her mind.

There was no point in dwelling on regrets and everything else that she could not change.

It was time to move on.

She joined in the clapping when Fuery – with a kiss mark on his left cheek – showed off the paper napkin with some girl’s number on it. Then he promptly passed out next to Havoc.

Riza could not help but chuckle at their youngest member’s antics.

It was going to be a long night so she might as well enjoy it.

After all, she was young and wild and free and only twenty-three.

At least for tonight.

Friday, 23:23 hours Dining Room (Turned into a Club), The Verve, East City

Rebecca stole a glance to her left where Fuery was passed out, his head lolling against the back of the loveseat.

Her lips formed a smirk. She hadn’t felt this giddy while playing Spin the Bottle since she was thirteen.

A chance finally appeared!

Fuery’s out of the game so anyone can ask a question or suggest a dare for the next round.

Now, if she could only find a way to make sure the bottle stops at either Riza or Mustang…

“I’ll spin for Fuery!” She announced eagerly, her hand already poised on the bottle. “Ready or not~!”

Please let it stop at Riza or the Flame Bastard. Rebecca called upon the favors of all the deity she had ever known, even if she herself was a non-believer. Please, oh god, anyone, the stars, the universe…

Somewhere, somebody heard her plea and granted her wish.

“Would you look at that?!” Havoc cried out in false bewilderment. “The next victim is the Hawk’s Eye herself: our dearest 1st Lt. Hawkeye~!!”

“I’ll ask her!” Rebecca volunteered before anyone else could interfere with her plan. “Drink up first, Riza!”

Everyone watched as the lady of the minute gracefully knocked back the vodka shot.

Trust Riza to make everything look so classy and oh so sexy. Rebecca smiled smugly. Mustang’s practically drooling like a dog from the view.  

“Truth or dare, lieutenant?” The colonel asked her promptly.

The rest of the team waited with baited breath for her answer.

Meanwhile, Rebecca was getting impatient. The suspense was killing her.

“I choose…” Riza trailed off as she surveyed their expressions.

Fuery’s loud snoring broke the silence, and then Riza finally said, “Truth.”

Sounds of disappointment filled the booth.

“So Riza…” Rebecca clapped her hands once, signifying the start of her interrogation. “Would you please tell us how many people you’ve kissed so far, and who was the best one?”

The first lieutenant’s eyes widened so much upon hearing the question, then quickly narrowed into slits and focused solely on her best friend.

“This is a complete betrayal, Rebecca.” She stated coldly. “You’ll pay for this.”

“Please answer the question, sir!” Falman insisted weakly. “Rules are rules…”

“Fine.” Riza acquiesced, the annoyance remaining in her voice. “I’ve kissed two people in my life.”

“Really?! But you’re so pretty!” Fuery interjected out of nowhere. Falman almost fell from his seat from the shock.

The blonde woman smiled kindly at the drunk sergeant. “Thank you for the compliment, Sgt. Fuery, but I’m sorry to burst your bubble. I don’t go around kissing people at random, pretty or not.”

The youngest soldier’s eyes widened, then he blushed furiously. “I’m so, so, soooo sorry, first lieutenant. I’m shutting up now.”

“Good idea.” Breda gave him a thumbs-up. The bespectacled man returned it with a droopy-eyed smile, then slumped against the sofa once more.

“And for your best kiss…?” Mustang inquired cautiously.

“Ooooh, careful there, colonel.” Havoc warned playfully, wagging his finger at him. “Your interest may be misconstrued as sexual harassment~!” He finished in a sing-song voice.

Riza brushed off the comment. “It’s fine, sir.” She then turned to her best friend. “For your information, 2nd Lt. Catalina, my best kiss was you, when we were in the academy.”

The men froze in their seats, their eyes wide as saucers.

“I mean, it was the best one because I don’t remember much, so I’m simply assuming that it’s better than the one I had with the other person.”

Rebecca burst into hysterical giggling. “Ohmigod, Riza! Did you really have to do that?! Look at them – poor men. You just gave them a heart attack and some good stuff for their fantasies.” She said in between peals of laughter.

The female second lieutenant might have been half crazy from all the laughing, but she definitely did not miss the look of mixed surprise and disappointment in Mustang’s eyes.

So Mustang’s the other person Riza had kissed before. Rebecca noted silently. Gotcha!

“But I’m being serious here.” Riza deadpanned. “Oh, and by the way, Rebecca has the softest lips, in case you’re wondering.”

An awkward silence pervaded the tiny booth.

Then it was Riza’s turn to burst into uninhibited laughter, slapping Mustang’s left thigh with her right hand every few seconds while covering her mouth with her other hand. The others simply stared at her. It was the first time they ever saw her lose all control over her emotions.

“I’m so sorry,” she gasped as she recovered her breath. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Without any warning, Mustang gently cupped her face.

The room stilled once again – including Riza this time – as the colonel slowly moved his thumbs across her cheeks to carefully wipe off the tears streaming down her face.

“That’s enough, lieutenant,” he told her gently, as if she were a child. “You’re ruining your immaculate make up.”

“Pardon me, sir. I–“ She began to justify her actions, but her commanding officer beat her to it.

“It’s OK, lieutenant.” He murmured, beaming at her adoringly. “I’m glad you’re having a good time, but there’s no need to ruin your pretty face while doing so.”

“Ahem,” Rebecca interrupted their tender moment with a fake cough. “Can we move on now, please?”

Mustang immediately dropped his hands to his lap, while Riza turned in her seat so she was facing her best friend once more. Both were acting as if nothing had happened a minute earlier.

Oh wow, Mustang has lost it. Maybe the alcohol has gone into his head. Rebecca thought. And I believe Riza’s rather tipsy, too! Perfect~!!

The rest of them pretended they saw nothing as well.

Riza reached for the bottle and spun it.

“The next round is for…” Havoc paused, waiting for the bottle to stop.

“You!” Breda announced with a finger pointed towards his best friend.

The blonde man grinned widely. “It’s about damn time I got some action!”

He grabbed the shot glass that Falman refilled, then declared boldly, “Dare.”

It was Riza’s turn, and – if Rebecca knew her friend well – this meant it’s payback time.

The smirk on Riza’s lips looked eerily similar to that of her commanding officer when he was up to no good.

It was plain evil.

“2nd Lt. Havoc, I dare you to ask Rebecca for a kiss.” The blonde sniper said simply.

It wasn’t as shocking as the dark-haired woman thought it would be.

“Wait a minute!” Mustang demanded harshly. “Isn’t that against the law? You do know that fraternization is illegal, right?”

Out of the blue, Rebecca let out a shrill scream.

“That’s not true!” Fuery asserted passionately with his index finger still poised in a poking stance near Rebecca’s waist. “It’s not fraternization, colonel! It’s just a game, right?!”

He poked her once again. The dark-haired woman shoved him back to his seat.

Mustang cleared his throat to garner their attention.

“Let’s all agree that everything that we’ve seen and heard tonight will never go out of this group. Ever.” Mustang looked at each of them in the eyes as he spoke. “Do I have your word for it?”

Everyone else in the room raised his or her right hand in salute, then replied solemnly, “Yes, sir!”

The colonel smirked, then declared smugly, “What are you waiting for, Havoc? Go get her.”

Before anyone knew what was happening, Havoc was already kneeling next to Rebecca and was reaching out for her hand.

“May I kiss you, my beautiful lady?” He requested suavely, his voice dropping an octave or two.

Fuery was squealing like a schoolgirl next to them, effectively ruining the moment.

Rebecca was blushing heavily now, and her head was reeling from embarrassment, but the alcohol she had consumed seemed to have flushed out every drop of inhibition in her system a long time ago.

Her instincts were telling her to kiss him.

So she did.

And it felt amazing.

Havoc pulled away before the kiss deepened, but it was still so satisfying.

Rebecca remained in a daze minutes later, temporarily forgetting her mission for the night.

I swear, the next part will be the last one. I’ll upload it once I’m done obsessing over the details of the conclusion.

[altessah]

Accidents Happen -- Chapter 10

Hey all! So it’s been another year, but I got back around to this fic.

It’s a mortal au where Nico has to deal with his feelings for Percy after Bianca’s death, when he returns to a public high school after being homeschooled. Then he meets Will and joins his band as a guitarist. Cue more feelings. Sorry to be so late on the update! AO3

“You look like death,” Will remarked on Friday afternoon as he jumped up Nico’s front stoop and breezed through the door. Autumn was beginning to settle in the trees, and a few dead leaves trailed after him as he hurried inside.

“Thanks,” Nico mumbled, following Will towards the basement. He could hear Connor and Travis tittering around on their respective instruments from upstairs.

“What’s up, man?” Will asked, a hint of concern in his voice. He was standing in front of the stairwell, purposefully blocking the way.

“Nothing,” Nico replied unconvincingly.

Will just raised an eyebrow and didn’t move.

Nico sighed. “Ugh, okay fine. I’m just… nervous about the gig. That’s all.”

Will looked skeptical at first, but seemed to decide to believe him. “Of course. I forgot you’ve never performed in front of a crowd before.”

“Yeah,” Nico replied, keeping his eyes downcast.

“Hey, it’s okay, man,” Will insisted, patting his shoulder with only a slight awkwardness. “You’re gonna do great. You’re an awesome guitarist.” He smiled cheesily.

“Thanks.”

With a pat on the shoulder, Will turned on his heel and hurried down the stairs.

The moment that Nico’s foot hit the last stair, the Stolls grabbed him by the arms and practically threw him to the ground, knocking his head on the floor in the process.

“Ow – Connor, what the hell?”

“WE”VE GOT HIM PINNED, SOLACE!”

“IT’S NOW OR NEVER, BUDDY!”

“WE CAN’T HOLD THE BEAST BACK MUCH LONGER!”

Will looked perplexed for half a second, and then he sighed. “Ahh. I forgot about this.”

“What? Will, what’s going on?” Nico strained to pull his arms out of Connor’s grasp, but the man had him thoroughly pinned. As if reading Nico’s mind, Travis sat on his feet.

Will offered a dramatic sigh. “You see, I got the text in third period. I somehow forgot.”

“Forgot what?” Nico demanded.

Shaking his head with intense solemnity, Will took out his phone, pulled something up, and then displayed it to Nico, whose eyes took a second to focus on the text message.

KATIE GARDNER SAID YES TO ME, BITCHEZ!!

Awww yeah now willy has to lick nico’s face!

Nooooo omg

His cheeks tinted slightly pink, Will put his phone back in his pocket and sighed. “Here goes nothing.”

As Nico struggled to pull out of Connor’s death grip, Will cracked all his knuckles and then his neck.

“Did you guys seriously mean that? Because I definitely do not remember you shaking on it. And let’s be real, if there’s not a handshake, then the bet didn’t happen. I don’t think that—”

Nico was interrupted by Will’s tongue sliding slowly across his cheek. He closed his eyes.

“You see? Easy.” Connor stood up and brushed his hands on his jeans. “Shall we practice?”

Travis stood up next, grinning ear-to-ear. “It’s been a good day.”

Will looked at the Stolls and sighed, before making uncomfortable eye contact with Nico. He offered him a hand. “Let’s practice, man. Also, you need to shave.”

Nico got up on his own and could not even let out a squeak.

As they played through the setlist, Nico found himself surprised at how good they sounded. While their first practices had mainly consisted of Nico being lost, Connor correcting Will’s pitch, and Travis trying to add cowbell to literally everything, the four of them had really pulled things together nicely. Nico’s fingers found the right chords without him needing to think about it, and Travis’s solos lasted the exact counts he was allotted—not twelve extra measures. Even Will seemed a lot more confident, letting one hand wave dramatically in the air instead of gluing it awkwardly to the microphone.

The other three seemed to be thinking the same thing as Nico, because they were all grinning and adding unnecessary dance moves and head bobs to their performances. As they finished up a rock rendition of Love Me Now, Will turned around and met Nico’s eyes, and flashed him a wide smile, his cheeks bright pink and his hair a little sweaty. Feeling his insides squirm a little, Nico smiled back.

By the end of the rehearsal, they were all a little jittery. They’d run through every song twice with minimal mistakes (Connor had forgotten a key change and Will said “goat” instead of “gloat”), but it felt weird to just call it a day. It was the last rehearsal before the gig.

Nico could tell that Will was panicking a little because he kept reading over lyrics on his phone and mumbling them quickly under his breath. After a while, Travis and Connor decided to head home for dinner, packing up their instruments and slapping Nico and Will on the back as they headed up. Significantly sweatier than before, Will quietly asked Nico if he could hang around and practice part of one song where his lyrics lined up with a guitar riff.

“Will, we’ve practiced this bit like fifty times,” Nico said, exasperated, half an hour later. “I think we’ve got it down.”

Will shook his head. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. I just feel like this is my worst bit.”

“But you’ve been playing it perfectly for the last twenty minutes!”

Will just scowled at the microphone. “I just know that this is what I’m gonna screw up.”

“Who says you’re gonna screw anything up?” Nico set his guitar down against the couch and collapsed, yawning into a cushion.

“I always screw up at least once,” Will stated. “And it’s always the part that I practice a million times. In the moment I just freak out and forget what I’m doing.”

Nico stretched and sat up. “Even if you do mess up, no one’s gonna notice. They’ll all be drunk off their asses.”

Will let his hand fall from the microphone. “You’re right.”

“Why are you so scared?” Nico asked after a moment, remembering Will’s confidence from earlier. “You’ve done this before, right?”

Will nodded slowly, walking away from the equipment to join Nico on the couch. He closed his eyes and put his head back on the cushion. “Yeah, I’ve done this stuff before. I guess it’s just never been this big of a crowd. And it’s never been people that are then gonna judge what I wear to school on Monday.”

“Seriously?” Nico laughed. “Why do you care what they think about your clothes?”

Will opened his eyes and turned to him. “Of course I care, Nico. It’s freshman year of high school. I have to care because I’m gonna be seeing them every day for the next three and a half years of my life, and they can make those three and a half years as awesome or as miserable as they want.” He put his head back down. “I just don’t want them thinking I’m a dweeb.”

“They’re not gonna think you’re a dweeb for messing up one verse.”

Will shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe not. But it still stresses me out, okay?” He let out a slow breath. “Whatever. I don’t expect you to get it, anyway.”

Nico looked at him. “What? Why?”

Will lifted his head again. “I don’t know, man. That stuff just doesn’t seem to get to you. You just let it roll off your back. People gossip and whisper about how you were homeschooled, and your family, and the whole thing with you and Percy—”

“There’s not a thing between me and Percy,” Nico cut in, his ears going red. His heart began to pound immediately. He knew people had found out. Someone had seen it and told someone else who’d told someone else. The whole school knew and thought he was some kind of creep who took advantage of drunk guys at parties.

“Whoa chill, I just meant the whole thing with your sister and all,” Will said, looking concerned. After a moment, his brow furrowed. “Wait, was there something else?”

Nico looked at the carpet. “No, sorry. I just… heard a rumor the other day.”

Unlike earlier, Will didn’t seem to buy his lie.

“Nico, what hap—”

“Nothing, Will. I don’t want to talk about it,” Nico huffed. He could feel that his face was beet red. “I get that you’re afraid of messing up and ruining your amazing reputation or whatever, but I can’t deal with this. I’ve got enough stress on my own about stuff that actually matters. I’m sorry I can’t run the same phrase with you a hundred freaking times.”

Will was silent for a minute, staring out into space. Nico didn’t look at him, just focused on the same stain in the carpet, trying not to think about the friendship he might have just ruined. After what felt like the longest silence, Will stood up, brushing off the seat of his pants.

“You know, Nico, I think you’d be a little less stressed out about stuff if you actually talked about things and didn’t just get mad when people don’t understand your depressing, complicated life.” He unplugged the microphone from the amp with more force than was necessary, and coiled the wire quickly around his arm. “It’s not that hard to open up, especially not to your best friend.”

He dropped the coiled wire on top of the amp and grabbed his backpack, still not making eye contact with Nico, who was still stuck to the couch, unable to find words.

“Thanks for having us over. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Nico sat in the same position for about an hour, unable to find the motivation to get up.

*            *            *

             The next day felt like it lasted an eternity.

Nico hadn’t been able to fall asleep the night before, partially because he was freaking out about the fight with Will, and partially because the house was still freezing. He hadn’t seen his dad since his drunken breakdown, and Nico couldn’t find the courage to seek him out. At around 3:30 in the morning, he heard his dad stomping down the stairs, probably to get food or another beer, but Nico fell asleep before he heard him return. The next day, he woke up a little past noon, sweating through the fifty blankets he’d wrapped around himself to fall asleep.

For a moment, all he could focus on was getting out of bed so he could cool down, but the moment he was standing groggily in his underwear, everything came flooding back.

His dad was a mess. Will hated his guts. The gig was today.

With a groan, Nico fell back on the bed, pressing his eyes closed to try and block it all out.

A while later, when he got the courage to check his phone, he found nothing from Will, but was surprised by a text from an unknown number. A weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, he opened it.

Hey Nico—It’s Annabeth. I wanted to text you because Percy’s been freaking out about something that he thinks happened between you guys at that party the other day. He feels really bad and wants you to know that nothing was your fault. I 100% agree with him. Text me when you get this!

Part of Nico wanted to puke. He had secretly hoped that Percy would never remember the details of that night. Nico’s age old crush could remain a secret that could never get out to the school and ruin him. Annabeth would never know that Percy had unknowingly been unfaithful.

But another part of Nico was relieved. After all, this scenario was probably for the better. Percy remembered. He didn’t hate him. Annabeth wasn’t mad. Everything had worked out in the best way that it could have, without anyone getting horribly hurt. Nico felt his chest loosen up as he texted Annabeth back.

Thanks Annabeth. I’m sorry and I don’t blame him either.

He pressed send and immediately let out a heavy breath. Trying not to think about Will, he threw on some clothes, brushed his teeth, and headed down to get food.

When he passed his father’s room, he was surprised to find the door open. His dad always closed the door, even if he wasn’t inside. Nico could hear his loud snores from the other end of the hall. Nervously, he padded over and peered inside. His dad was passed out, face down on his bed, with what looked like a photo album beside him. A plate with half a pancake and some syrup was on his nightstand. There was still a light on.

While he was still concerned, Nico was relieved that his dad wasn’t still in that grimy white t-shirt and that there weren’t any empty bottles by the bed. Grabbing the dirty pancake plate, Nico headed downstairs.

The rest of the day was incredibly uneventful. He packed up his guitar and picked an outfit for that night. He took a long shower, shaved (per Will’s suggestion), and blow dried his hair so it wouldn’t be too flat. Connor texted Nico that he could pick him up at around 10:15.

Are you picking up Will too?

Nah he said he’d just walk. He lives really close

Nico felt his stomach tighten, irrationally wondering if Will was avoiding him. He wanted more than anything to text and apologize, but he just couldn’t find the courage. Will could still be angry. He should give him space.

That decision didn’t keep Nico from obsessively checking his phone over the course of the next few hours, pleading and pleading for something from Will. Nick Lantoya added him on Facebook to formally invite him to the event, but that was about it.

“Hello Ladies and Gents! I’m pleased to invite you to what’s going to be the craziest event of the homecoming season! Are you fed up with teachers? Sick of homework? Exhausted from the pain that is living a grueling teenaged life? Then join us at 1300 Griggs St. after the homecoming dance to celebrate our spectacular loss at the game last night! We’ll have food, some live music, and all the booze you can ask for… provided you bring $5. Can’t wait to see you sick bastards there!!”

There were close to two hundred people who said they were coming to the event, and Nico felt his palms begin to sweat as he scrolled through the list, recognizing some of Percy’s friends and not too many others. Sure enough, Percy and Annabeth said they were coming too, and the thought of them watching Nico perform made him feel nauseous again. He decided to wait to eat until dinner.

By the time that Nico got around to microwaving some leftover pizza, he’d heard his father moving around his room upstairs and the shower turned on. At around seven, his dad finally came downstairs.

“Mornin,” he joked, striding into the room and making a beeline for the fridge.

“Hey,” Nico replied in a mumble.

“Sleep well?” his father asked. “Sorry I had the thermostat so cold.”

“I’m used to it.”

His father grabbed a slice of pizza and plopped down at the table, eating it cold. He eyed Nico curiously, as if trying to gauge if he was mad. Nico pretended not to notice and chewed his crust.

“You’ve got a performance tonight, as I recall.”

“Yeah,” Nico said. “We’re playing at one of Travis’s friend’s homecoming parties.”

“Ahh, so it’s homecoming weekend then. Was the game last night?”

“Yeah, we lost.”

“Too bad,” his father said with a dramatic sigh. “And the dance is tonight then. Are you going?”

Nico laughed a little. “Nah, it’s not really my kind of thing.”

“But you could’ve gone with that Will boy! And your other friends of course.”

“We all just wanted to get ready for the gig,” Nico stated, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“I understand.”

His dad chewed his pizza thoughtfully for a moment. Nico checked his phone for the billionth time. Nothing from Will. He let out another heavy breath.

“Well, good luck then,” said his father. “Do you need a ride?”

“Connor’s taking me.”

“Okay.” He smirked. “If you need a ride back—for any reason—please let me know.”

Nico felt his ears get a little warm. “Okay.”

He could tell his father wanted to talk more, but thankfully, he got the message and left Nico to obsessively check his phone. The next three hours felt like a millennium; yet, when Connor’s headlights shined through the living room blinds, Nico still felt like he needed more time to emotionally prepare. He and Connor loaded the amps into the van, and after Nico shouted goodbye to his dad, they were on the road.

“You nervous?” he asked Connor after a long silence. The radio was playing a Fall out Boy song that they were going to play later.

“Yeah, a little,” admitted Connor. “I think I’m just gonna get a little buzzed before we go on so I won’t overthink anything.”

Nico frowned. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Connor grinned. “I’ll be fine, don’t you worry your skinny little neck.”

Slightly more anxious than before, Nico sat back and shut up for the rest of the ride.

When they got to the house, Nick Lantoya greeted them at the door, grinning widely and clapping their backs harder than was entirely necessary.

“I’m so glad you guys are here! You’re gonna be a huge hit, I just know it!” He gripped each of their shoulders (Nico had a sneaking suspicion he was using them as a crutch), and led them into his kitchen.

His house was pretty big. Not as big as Nico’s but it could definitely hold two hundred people. Some of Nick’s buddies were in the kitchen, blaring some rap music while they poured different colored liquids into a huge cooler. Some of it splashed over the side, and Nico saw that it was a deep, bluish-greenish color.

“The stage is out back, so you can go ahead and get set up,” Nick told them. “We’ve got an extension cord running behind the stage with a huge power strip. Let me know if you need anything else. The drum set is already set up.”

“Where’s Will?” Connor asked.

One of the guys stirring the juice chuckled. “Your boy’s in the bathroom. Has been for the last ten minutes.”

Another guy with muscles bigger than his head laughed. “That kid’s an idiot. I think I love him.”

All four of them laughed, and Nick smiled at Will and Connor. “He should be good by eleven thirty. He just got a bit of a head start.”

“Puke and rally,” one of the guys mumbled, and the others nodded in agreement.

“Oh jeez,” Connor mumbled under his breath, heading for what must have been the bathroom.

Nico didn’t move, just stared at the guys as they poured more weird liquids into the cooler, rapping along to the loud music. Some of the cabinets behind them were zip-tied shut. So was the fridge. What did they mean about Will getting a head start? Nico thought, beginning to panic. Puke and rally? Is he okay?

As if answering his question, Will practically exploded into the room, an empty can falling from his hand onto the ground. Just as Nico turned, Will slipped a little on the floor and nearly collided with him as he went in for a huge bear hug.

“Nico!” Will shouted in his ear. “My man! The lord, the legend! What is up?”

Thoroughly startled, Nico pulled away from the hug, staring at the stain on the collar of Will’s black shirt. Nervously, he asked, “Hey Will, how are you?”

“I’m doing good, my man.” He let out a loud, long burp, accidentally kicked his left foot with his right, and started to collapse, so that Nico and Connor had to grab him by the arms to keep him upright. The other guys watched from the kitchen and laughed.

As they dragged a babbling Will around to sit on the couch, Connor met Nico’s eyes and shook his head, his eyes seeming to say something along the lines of ‘we’re screwed.’

“What happened?” Nico asked quietly, trying not to blush as Will mumbled something about shiny hair and started touching Nico’s bangs.

“He’s wasted, man,” Connor said solemnly, snatching an unopened beer from Will’s hand. “Half an hour before people even get here, and our lead singer’s absolutely shitfaced.”

Will grasped Nico’s hand and held it tightly, his eyes closed and his head thrown back. He smelled like puke.

“What are we gonna do?” Nico asked Connor, staring at his hand in Will’s.

Connor sighed and shook his head. “There’s nothing we can do but set up the stage and keep this one away from the Natty Light.” He took a napkin and started to dab at the stain on Will’s shirt. He looked over at Nico like a resigned parent. “The show must go on, I guess.”