#and my first attempt at the final boss was HORRID
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dawningwinds-s · 4 months ago
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Wow I can't believe making a good build on this rpg right made the game go better. Who'da thunk.
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modern-day-bard · 10 months ago
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Worth The Feeling
Content Warning: 18+ This series contains explicit smut, intimidation, and an age gap relationship. Minors, do not interact.
Chapter 15
"Say Ciao to Mia, Ava!" Lana sings as I enter our hotel room. I glance up and see Mia's smiling face on Lana's screen.
"Ciao, Mia!" I try to match Lana's enthusiasm, smiling and waving to her phone.
Lana must have arrived home an hour or so before me. She has her dark curls wrapped in a towel, and she already has her pajamas on. She continues to ramble to Mia about her day and what she's seen of Italy so far, mostly from inside moving vehicles. And to her girlfriend's credit, Mia seems completely delighted to just listen to her, smiling and nodding along.
I try not to eavesdrop, changing into a different pair of shorts than the one I wore earlier, reaching for some sandals instead of the walking shoes I'd worn all day. I tie my hair back into a ponytail and grab my purse.
"I'm going for a walk," I half-whisper, not wanting to interrupt Lana's stream of consciousness.
Lana whips her head to the side, sitting up to answer me. "Uh, um. Okay. Mia can I call you back in like one minute?" Mia agrees, and I call out Ciao once more before Lana hangs up.
"You didn't have to do that, I was planning on a walk anyway," I say.
"No, I know..." Lana takes her hair out of the towel, slowly wringing it in her hands. "I just wanted to touch base with you before you go, just in case I'm asleep again later."
"Touch base?" I smirk. "You sound like you're my boss."
Lana gives me a returning smirk, but only for a split second. "Ava, where did you go last night?"
I know from our previous conversation, and at least four years of friendship, that I can't get away with a lie.
"What if I told you I was on another walk?"
Lana gives me an incredulous smile. "If you did, I would ask you why your bathing suit is hanging up to dry after your 'walk.'" She emphasizes her point by making air-quotations.
My face burned. Deciding not to lie right now is probably the first correct decision I've made all day.
"Okay, then I went for a swim."
Lana waits. I say nothing.
"Alone?" She asks finally.
"No."
"Ava," She whines, and I can see her irritation growing. "When have you ever been one to withhold information?"
I take a deep breath. After my childish behavior today, there might not be anything left to tell her. And if I start talking now about what happened last night, my jealousy today, and my horrid attempt at flirting with the wrong man...I'll feel it too much. I need to stick to my original plan of walking my feelings off.
"Just–not now, okay? I promise I will tell you everything, but I'm not feeling myself today. I...I need to clear my head."
Lana's face softens, and I can see that she wants to say more. But being the friend that she is, she accepts my words with a nod. "Okay. Don't be out too late, and be safe."
I give her a small smile and try not to sense the double meaning in her words, the same words she said to me the other day.
"I will."
- - -
If there were a perfect place to try and organize your complicated thoughts about relationships and self-worth, I think Milan would be it. Not that I have sorted through everything walking around for the past hour, but the distraction of the city itself has calmed me down enough to try. We hadn't gotten off work too late tonight, so there were a variety of shops and restaurants still open. Seeing the beautiful architecture up close and walking past the small street vendors and musicians made me feel like my problems were a lot further away. I had originally pulled out my headphones from my purse, determined to shut out the world as much as possible. But as soon as the cobblestones were beneath my feet, and I caught a side glance of a canal running through the streets, the thought of shutting out the world felt silly. Here I was in a place that I had previously only dreamed about, and I was using my time by allowing John, of all people, to get in my head.
Somewhere between the canal and the third musician I passed, I recognized that the only reason I behaved that way earlier was to get back at John, not Javi. Javi had been nothing but honest with me. He had respected my wishes, even when he wanted to speak to me on set. He had hesitated purely out of respect for my career, and got in contact with his lawyer to protect me from anything that might come forward from those photos. And every time he touched me was a question, not a demand. It never felt as if he thought anything was owed to him.
The jealousy was real, there was no doubt about that. I didn't love seeing his hands roam all over Emma today, but I knew that was his job. But the anger was from John and John alone. He made me feel like I wasn't enough, and that I was always doomed to be second best. And walking over to Blake earlier, I think I was trying to take back control of a situation that ended four years ago. I wanted Javi to know that his scene with Emma didn't bother me, even though it clearly did. But some younger part of me thought that my meager attempt at flirting with Blake would prove that I don't care if the man I care about has his hands on someone else. That somehow, this would prove to myself that I didn't care about what happened with John anymore, that it didn't scare me anymore. But it did.
Unfortunately, and unsurprisingly, Lana had been right. I'm not capable of having a fling. And nothing about the way my heart constricted at the sight of Javi made me feel as though this was fling territory. I knew deep down why I had always rejected every guy Lana had recommended to me. It was so they couldn't have the opportunity to reject me. Now that something great has fallen into my lap, I want to hide again. But looking at where I'm standing right now, smelling the flowers and listening to a language filled with love all around me, I realize that the only way John wins is if I keep allowing his mistakes to influence my own.
So I opened my phone, and decided not to let my past interfere with my future.
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beevean · 9 months ago
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The wait was worth it <3
When Sunny wakes up in the morning, Hero reveals that he completed all of the former's chores on the list his mom left for him even though Sunny himself never asked him to do that. For the record, Sunny's chores take him three days if he chooses to stay inside on the first day, yet Hero somehow finished them all before Sunny even woke up. Because Hero is just that perfect and awesomesauce, ig
Not only this, but the game has this tendency to show that friends should help each other... by having friends doing things for others without permission. Kel forces Sunny to stay at Basil's. Hero does Sunny's chores for him. The gang decides that Basil just needs his friends by his side while he's crying in the bathroom because his grandma died (which you've explained in detail why it's a horrid breach of agency). I don't like this. Friends helping friends in need is one thing, but this is barging into other people's privacy and boundaries, and we're meant to see it as cute and proof that they have such a strong bond. It doesn't help that these people haven't been close in four years, and evidence suggest that they don't even trust each other that much (Basil and Aubrey).
Due to the game's short three-day timespan, Aubrey's apology to Basil rings hollow. A verbal apology means nothing unless you can back it up with your actions, and Aubrey doesn't get the chance to prove that she's genuinely sorry for what she did before the game throws her and rest of Sunny's friends to the wayside to focus on the plot twist and the final boss in the last hour of the game
By all means, Aubrey should have been the one rescuing Basil from the lake. It would have shown, rather than told, that despite her abrasive behavior she's still the caring Aubrey they knew. But no, she and Kel keep arguing while their friend is drowining, forcing Sunny, the friend with a fear of water, to intervene.
I wish I could like Aubrey. I like the idea of this cute girl falling into a gang of delinquents because she felt abandoned by her old friends. But the game conveniently forgets its attempts to be realistic when it comes to her, her nail bat, and her severe bullying.
Before they all fall asleep, Hero commends Sunny for touching grass and thanks him for "everything" even though Sunny did absolutely nothing for his friends at any point of the story. Most of the scenes in Faraway Town could've had him cut and nothing of value would be lost
It's almost funny how passive Sunny is in the "touching grass" route. The plot of that route is that the gang got together again, right? And what did Sunny do to help? Sure, he saved Basil's life, but Aubrey and Kel could have done that. Kel is the instigator of the plot, because he decided to give Sunny a chance to hang out before he had to move. Kel is the one who spoke for Sunny at every opportunity. Aubrey is the antagonist who acted by stealing Basil's photo album. Then Hero showed up and stuck with his bro. Sunny's journey is entirely about himself, but when it comes to the actual events of the story, until you have the choice to check on Basil or leave him to kill himself, he might as well be a floating camera. something something he's just the baby of the group
Sunny never vocally fights back against the criticisms Omori levels at him, further depriving the former of characterization. Instead, he counters by cherry-picking quotes he heard from his friends (and Mari) over the course of the game to replenish his HP and calm down, twisting the supportive words of the people he hid the truth from to make himself feel better. Because, as Mari's last words to Sunny before Memory Lane show, only he and his feelings actually matter to this game. Why am I supposed to feel bad for this piece of shit again?
This is honestly awful. If I lied to my friends to paint myself as better than I am, and they proceeded to comfort me, I'd feel so ashamed of myself. Not Sunny, though! As long as he feels good about himself, he doesn't care.
The gang offered Sunny all those nice words under the assumption that he was grieving for the loss of his sister who killed himself, a terrible kind of pain. Who's to know if they'd be as charitable if they knew that Sunny not only caused Mari's death, but also let everyone believe she killed herself, making them feel guilty that they didn't do enough to help her?
He got that comfort with a lie by omission. And he's okay with it.
By all means, the climatic fight with Omori should have happened after Sunny confessed everything, and the only thing left was to battle his own self-loathing. Sure, it would still be farfetched if the friends all forgave him for such a cruel lie, but let's assume that they could at least sympathize with him. Now their words would have more weight, and be proof that "friends are supposed to be there for each other". If Sunny got told that he deserves to "find peace or some happiness" after he revealed the truth, it would have been more poignant.
But no. Sunny remembers Mari urging him to forgive himself, and that's all that matters. He's all that matters. He's willing to twist the words of the people closest to him to allievate his own deserved guilt.
May I recommend a show that tackles the topic of forgiveness in a much more mature way?
youtube
Sometimes, your actions have such drastic consequences that you do not have the right to demand that the people you hurt should forgive you. And you have to live with that. And masquerating a manslaughter as a suicide and then hiding from the world should absolutely warrant this kind of reaction.
Bojack Horseman was not shy in showing that the titular protagonist is a toxic person who does more harm than good, and while we may root for his happiness, it's perfectly understandable that the people around him don't. But I suppose that a cute sad boy deserves to feel good about himself :)
Edit to add: I forgot about this absolute fuckery in the datamined descriptions of the Mari photos:
Photo of a Lie - As you and BASIL step into the house, you look back towards the trees and see it. The light engulfs it as it sways in the wind… For a moment, you feel at peace. You hate yourself for feeling this way. Is that all, then? Is everything going to be okay now?
I don't know, man, if I saw the body of my recently dead beloved one swinging from a noose, I think I'd feel sick. Not Sunny, though! He's just happy that he might get away with manslaughter :)
I love when a protagonist is a complete blank slate until you analyze the text, and then they become a reprehensible monster <3
Currently replaying OMORI because I'm a masochist with my best friends @beevean and @the-crow-binary providing emotional support lmfao. Even despite how soul-crushingly boring it is, I think we're still having some sort of fun with this clusterfuck of a game
Highlights (and the misc. problems we've managed to spot) so far include:
I already knew that this game's length was detrimental to it during my first solo playthrough, but this playthrough is helping me put into perspective just how bloated OMORI is, even when it comes to an aspect like dialogue. For example, a single conversation between Space Boyfriend and the main cast took us approximately 5 minutes to get through, and it's not like the writing is gripping enough to make us give a shit about the characters or anything they're saying
Speaking of the dialogue, you can just see how hard it tries to be witty and Quirky™ the way Earthbound and indie RPGs like Undertale were. Needless to say, it fails horribly, and the end result of that was me having to fast-track some conversations because they were unfunny and weren't relevant at all
I got unintentionally (!) stuck in White Space for 15-20 minutes because I couldn't find the map the game needed me to find to let me open the door. Beev came to hate the repetitive 8-bit BGM the area had by the time I finally found the map lol. game_design.exe
Headspace's music is so ear-gratingly abysmal oh my god. I can only call it "dollar-store Kirby music" because that's the most appropriate description that comes to mind and I'm pretty sure Lost at a Sleepover gave Beev severe PTSD. Of course, the music of Faraway Town isn't any better: the "track" that plays in the first fight with Aubrey is less music than it is the result of an .exe file being put through an audio player. Sonic Chronicles might have some serious competition in the "worst video game soundtrack" category asdfghjkl
The plot of the Faraway Town segments is so cookie-cutter that it genuinely hurts to sit through. Character writing (or the lack thereof) aside, Sunny and Kel spend half a day loitering around the town and asking Aubrey's cronies where she is even though Kel could've easily gotten that information from Mikhael had he just indulged the latter's delusions of grandeur a little bit
Faraway Town's daytime sky is literally a scrolling JPEG of a cloudy sky. The battle backgrounds of the real world segments are edited JPEGs as well. Everyone's houses look exactly the same on the outside save for some of them being a different color. The developers spent six years and more than $200,000 on this game.
Sunny's fights against his fears are boring. You just need to wait until a particular turn when the game grants you a special skill you use to end the fight immediately. What was the point of designing these hallucinatory monsters if the player doesn't get to fight them at any point during the main route?
Aubrey (ostensibly) swinging a nail bat at Sunny is not treated with the same degree of realism as Sunny slashing her with a knife. Additionally, Aubrey rides away on her scooter just fine even though she's supposed to be bleeding
Mari's picnic baskets are inexplicably scattered all across the town and fulfill the exact same function as they do in Headspace. So much for realism!
I won two of the fights against Aubrey's goons even though I was trying to lose. gameplay.exe
Sunny is even more unpleasant than I remember. He doesn't respond to Basil - who is supposedly his best friend - when the latter talks to him, stays silent while (and after) Kel vents to him about Hero yelling at him and barges into the church despite Kel advising him to wait until the sermon ends. Why should I feel bad for him again?
Kel generally seems to treat Sunny like an actual baby, spelling out incredibly obvious things to the latter (e.g. that Sunny shouldn't be carrying a knife or walking in the road because it's dangerous) and making all of Sunny's decisions for him, to the point of not allowing Sunny to return into his own house until nighttime under the pretense of "there's so much to do! it's a brand new day!"
Finally, the "fight" against Sunny's fear of spiders comes completely out of nowhere since nothing triggered said fear during Sunny's adventures outside
Peak game, everyone.
And it's going to get way worse down the line!
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yourdeepestfathoms · 2 years ago
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I have such chaos choir brainrot because of your blog, dude.
That being said do you have any silly little headcanons about the choir kids? Much appreciated if you do :)
-✨
i do!!
here’s…
Ride the Cyclone Kids Playing A D&D Game Based On Silent Hill
(based on my own Silent Hill-based dnd game, which i DM!)
(there’s gonna be A Lot of references to the Silent Hill franchise/lore and to the Call of Cthulhu module, so try to keep up!)
BASICALLY, it’s a completely original storyline and everything, but it uses the Call of Cthulhu module for rolls and stats
Penny is the DM!
And
Good Lord
This girl is RUTHLESS
Her mind? Oh my god. Some of the shit she’s come up with is fucking INSANE.
But we’ll get more into Penny’s mercilessness soon
Characters!
All the others were given simple instructions
Spin a wheel with a bunch of themes on it. They get three themes, and then they must build a character around them
(My players got to pick theirs, but Penny’s doing is differently)
(As in, I’m spinning a wheel to determine the themes for the kids so I can make them random characters)
Ocean’s themes were: Corruption; Identity; and Murder!
Noel’s themes were: Justice, Injustice, and Revenge; Body Image/Body Shaming; and The Meaning Of Happiness and Sorrow
Mischa’s themes were: Murder; Trauma and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder; and Bullying
Ricky’s themes were: Corruption; Rebirth; and Love and Hate
Constance’s themes were: Depression, Grief, and Mental Illness; The Human Condition; and Psychology
The characters were made!
They then did their stats and gave Penny their backstory and reason for being in Silent Hill
Penny, looking at Ricky’s 80 Luck: nice!
Penny, noticing his Sanity is 40: oh no
(Luck is used to negate damage and stuff like that. You can also do a Hail Mary aka Avoid Sudden Death if you have 30, which will allow you to survive an attack that would have killed you otherwise!)
(And then Sanity determines how a character will react to something traumatic or disturbing. You roll to see if your character will be able to tough it out, or if they’ll take Sanity damage. If they take a certain amount of Sanity damage in one session, they’ll suffer a Bout of Madness, which Penny has a WHOLE LIST of effects for. And if you lose ALL your Sanity, your character becomes an NPC and the DM can play them however they want.)
They play in Mischa’s basement, and Penny goes ALL OUT. She’s got props, costumes, the whole nine yards. She does character voices and everything! It’s INCREDIBLE
Finally, it was time to go into Silent Hill!
The plot is this: The party has woken up in a motel to find that the whole town of Silent Hill has become shrouded in fog. They can’t get out of the town, forcing them to traverse the place to find a way to escape. And to get out, they must enter five different Otherworlds designed after each of their character’s, which are made to torment them and put all their trauma and flaws on display. They even get their own customized bosses based on the PCs (player characters), which are HORRIFIC.
There’s also these creatures called the Dark Tormentors, which stalk the PCs and appear from time to time to psychologically torture them. They’re born from the darkest parts of the PCs, can speak, and cannot be killed.
Yeah, Penny went ALL OUT
But the game!!
First session is relatively chill for a horror game about everything that’s horrid in the world. The party starts in South Vale and ends up in Brookhaven Hospital after the Fog World starts to transition into the Otherworld.
Penny BLASTS foghorns for that part, it’s fuckin menacing
While in Brookhaven, the party must compete this puzzle. There’s a door made out of flesh that won’t open without four offerings: a finger, an eyeball, a tooth, and a tongue. These items can be found throughout the hospital, acting as rewards for their own puzzles (but Penny, being the menace she is, does attempt to get the characters to have their PCs maim themselves for the items)
In the kitchen of the hospital, there’s a cooked dog, and Penny deadass looks them in the eye and asks if they want a bite
(She has a whole prepared description of the taste if they say yes)
(None of them do)
(She’s a little bummed)
Penny, after the party enters a cramped room: Are any of you, by any chance, claustrophobic?
Ocean: Yes.
Penny: Interesting.
Noel: No.
Penny: Oh, you will be. You will be.
Noel, fearfully: Wh
Noel: What
Penny: :)
They end up fighting the Missionary from Silent Hill 3 and complete session one!
After that, the pure disturbing horror that Penny has prepared for them is ramped up to one hundred
I’m not gonna go into detail about each and every session they have because I would be here for awhile, and I’m already kinda worried this isn’t the most entertaining batch of headcanons, but I’ll give A TON of highlights!
At one point, the party goes to this market, which has a ton of supplies for them to find. However, there’s a Two-Back sleeping inside of the market, meaning that they have to roll Stealth every single time they want to go to a different stall
THIS is a Two-Back
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What do you know, Ocean fails her VERY FIRST Stealth roll, and the whole party has to flee
Ricky, after the party comes to a locked gate: Can I roll Locksmith to try and open it?
Penny: Of course!
Ricky: *rolls Locksmith*
Ricky: *fails*
Penny: You’re a bit rusty on your lockpicking skills. So are your tools. They’re as weak as the branches of the trees all around you and snap with ease. You failed. But that isn’t a surprise, is it? All you do is fuck up. Maybe don’t volunteer unless you know for sure you won’t waste everyone’s time.
Ricky: 😥
Like I said, Penny as a DM is RUTHLESS
But her cruelty is mainly the narrator in the script she has for each session. She purposely wrote the narrator as bitchy and cruel toward the PCs whenever they fuck up.
She had to let everyone know that nothing of what she said was a personal attack, and she loves them all very much
Mischa: Can I try to bust this door down?
Penny: Sure!
Mischa: *rolls*
Mischa: *fails*
Penny: You try to bust the door open, but this is wrought iron you’re dealing with, and you’re basically the Christian version of one of those inflatable men outside car dealerships. You were never going to get it open. Maybe conceal your hubris next time before you embarrass yourself again.
Constance, who wanted to ask if she could pry the door open with a crowbar her character had found: *slowly puts her hand down*
There’s this part where the party encounters this hole in the floor, and Mischa has his character hop down. It ends up being this well, and he shouts up to the others to not come down. Penny asks the rest of the PCs to roll Listen to see if they can hear Mischa’s character tell them to not come down. They all fail. They all then jump down.
Penny, after the party can’t get through a gate around an area they want to explore and are beckoned to follow an unknown voice: Surprisingly, the force doesn’t seem very threatening, just eerie. Will you follow, or do you think you’ll be able to sprout wings and fly to the other side of the fence?
Noel: No.
Penny: Pussy.
Noel: >:O
Okay, so Penny came up with this REALLY COOL puzzle that damn near made Constance shit herself.
So one of the Otherworlds the party explores is in Toluca Prison. In the Interrogation Room, there’s an item that they need to progress sitting on a table. Noel’s character picks it up, which causes his arm to be ensnared by this bear trap-like contraption. To free him, someone must go into the actual interrogation space and lock themselves in these chains attached to the wall. Once they’re in the chains, they gotta make three successful Strength rolls, and doing so will release the trap on Noel’s character.
Here’s the rub: The door to the interrogation space will slam shut and lock the moment someone enters. The whole room is soundproof, and what they thought was a wall of glass is actually a one-way mirror. So the character inside can’t see out to their party, they can only see themselves.
So, Constance’s character is the one who steps into the interrogation space first, which forces her into the role of being Noel’s character’s savior.
She locks herself in the chains and starts the rolls.
First roll is a success! Yay! That’s good!
That’s when Penny pulls Constance out of the room to talk to her one-on-one.
And when she talks to her one-on-one, she describes something absolutely horrific that only Constance’s character can see.
Penny: You notice something in the mirror. There’s something against the wall directly behind you. At first, you think it’s just a trick of the light on the dirty white paint, but then you see it move. You realize that it’s a hand. And if there’s a hand, that must mean there’s a… A body. Something is pushing its way out of the wall. It has no face—instead, there is only a gaping hole. Its limbs are thin and disjointed, and it looks almost mutilated and disfigured. Even without eyes, you know it’s looking directly at you.
To make it even worse, she shows Constance a picture of exactly what she’s dealing with here
This is the creature! It’s called a Raw Shock!
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Anyway, Constance’s character must now make three more Strength rolls, but this time with a penalty. And each time she rolls, the Raw Shock gets closer and closer and closer.
She fails.
Which leads her to getting THIS description.
Penny: You feel something snag on the back of your head and pull you backwards by the hair. The creature has caught you, and its touch is icy cold. The longer it has its hands on you, the more warmth you can feel draining from your being, as though this thing is sucking out your body heat to take for its own. The creature, surprisingly strong for its skeletal frame, begins to pull you to the wall it had come from. It seems to want to take you back with it. It also seems to have friends, as you start to notice other hands pushing out from the wall, reaching for you, beckoning for you. The bodies soon follow, and they’re all abstract beings of nightmares: bodies with exaggerated female forms, organs and bones and nipples exposed; bodies that are terribly bloated, bubbles and fungi consuming the pale flesh; bodies like disks, bearing a sliced appearance, as though a knife had been taken to their skin and slashed them to pieces. Whispers fill your ears. Whispers that call your name, that tell you that you’re home, that say it’s safe now, and the voices sound so warm, so genuine. Maybe this is home…
Constance is fucking HORRIFIED
Her character is fine, though! The trap releases Noel’s character, and they all get out!
But Penny has successfully scarred both Constance and her PC
Which is what she wants >:)
*The party is at a door that won’t open (because they need certain puzzle pieces for it)*
Ocean: Maybe you have to…say a magic word?
Ocean: Abra kadabra!
Nothing happens.
Ocean: I don’t know why I thought that would work.
The party takes this LONG ride in an elevator, and while they wait, Penny starts going around, asking everyone who they would eat first if they had to resort to cannibalism to stay alive 😭
Ocean: Can I drink some water?
Penny: Absolutely! Can you just roll me Spot Hidden real fast?
Ocean: Yeah.
Ocean: *rolls*
Ocean: *gets a Regular Success*
Penny: Cool, thanks!
Five minutes later, Penny stops roleplay to tell Ocean that her character has started to violently vomit her blood everywhere
Penny: Hasn’t your mommy ever told you not to drink random water bottles you find in alternate dimensions? Fucking idiot. If you haven’t noticed already, that wasn’t water you drank. It was actually water mixed with hydrochloric acid! You’re going to continue regurgitating your blood for an hour. Also you take 1d8 damage every time it happens. Good going. Stupid bitch.
Ocean was so sad
They go to YET ANOTHER market, and this time there’s no Two-Back there to screw them over
But there ARE a BUNCH of weird as hell stalls for them to explore
One in particular is called Caricature Cabin
Penny, doing the voice of the faceless person who runs the stall: “Hiya! Would you like to have your caricature done?”
Noel: No.
Penny: Then what the fuck are you even doing here?
Constance: I will have my caricature done! Please.
Penny: “Wonderful! Here, sit down! It won’t take very long!”
Penny: You sit down. The artist examines you with eyes that aren’t there, then gets to work. They sketch and color and paint diligently. Once they’re done, they show you, radiating great pride.
Penny: It… it isn’t a caricature. It’s just you drawn as a turtle wearing a wig.
The whole party was HOWLING with laughter
Penny made her own painting of this just for the session
There’s also a stall called “I Sell Weird Lemons”
Penny: The stall consists of a singular lemon sitting on a table. It has googly eyes glued to it. It’s being bidded on.
Penny: The highest bid is $500,000.
Ricky’s character bids on it
He puts $500,001
(He wins the bid)
(The lemon appears to him two sessions later)
The party encounters a pack of Wormheads. Mischa’s character accidentally alerts them and gets attacked by one.
Penny: The Wormhead’s head whips up. The maggots and grub making up its whole face shift around restlessly, emanating a wet sound. Then, suddenly, it’s lunging directly at you.
Penny: Surely it can’t bite with it’s head full of worms, you think to yourself as its head full of worms splits open horizontally to reveal a gaping, oozing maw of insects.
Penny: Oh.
The whole party: 😟
Noel was GAGGING
OH THE NEEDLE PIT!!!!!
I just remembered this trap from my own game
This one is GOOD
SO
The characters are all in this Otherworld for Ricky’s character, and one of the traps is in the Study Room
When they step into the Study Room, they’re all lashed up into those baby bungie harnesses and suspended above the floor
This talking parrot begins to tell them about a game called Truth or Dunk. The parrot will ask them the questions, and as long as the characters answer truthfully, they won’t be dunked into the FLOOR OF DOOM!!!
(It’s just the regular floor)
Ricky’s character is the first to lie, but the harness just lowers a little bit
Ocean’s character is the second to lie, and instead of just being lowered, she drops STRAIGHT through the floor
Because the “regular floor” was all a lie
It seemed to be an illusion of sorts
Underneath it is a giant pit full of needles
Which Ocean’s character is described to be plunged into in very graphic detail
Constance’s character is the third one to go into the pit because the character mentions God at one point, and she refers to him with “he/him” pronouns, when in Silent Hill lore, God uses “she/her”
So into the pit Constance’s character goes!
“YOU GOT DROPPED IN THE NEEDLES BECAUSE YOU MISGENDERED GOD???” -Ocean
One of the Dark Tormentors is named Ideal Daddy (the character it belongs to has daddy issues lol), and when the party meets it, it holds them hostage in a tea party (which Penny brings props and food for!)
But during it, Noel and Mischa’s characters get into this really heated argument over morality
And then others are just There
Ocean, while Noel and Mischa are verbally tearing out each other’s throats: I’m going to offer Daddy some more cake
The party wanted to enter a building Penny didn’t have any content for, so when Mischa’s character tried to kick the door down, she just made the entire building (minus the door) fall out of existence
So
There was this One Boss
A boss that fucked over EVERYONE
This boss belonged to Ocean’s character
It was called the Bloated Lamb, and it was this DISGUSTING fleshy sheep monster that had a very, how do I put this, phallic head
Everyone was groaning in disgust by just its DESCRIPTION
And then combat starts
First round
Two characters die INSTANTLY
Everyone had known about the possibility of death in the game, but they had managed to tough it out for several sessions. There was one close call where Ricky’s character got dropped all the way down to 4 HP (they all got to start with 100), but they used a healing item called an Ampoule on him (which Constance’s character kept in her cleavage lol), which would raise anyone all the back back to full HP
So yeah, they knew about the dangers of death in this game. But they didn’t think much of it because they had managed to get through so much!
They let their guard down.
Foolish mistake.
Penny had been waiting for this day, and it finally came true.
After surviving fights with a scorpion abomination with guns for pincers, a 300 foot long flesh mermaid, a horrifyingly uncanny sphinx monster, a walking skin sack with a giant drill for a hand, the embodiment of toxic masculinity itself, it took just one (1) attack from a big dick sheep to wipe nearly half the party out.
The blood that was spilled that day was delicious.
The victims were Noel and Mischa’s characters.
The Bloated Lamb reared up from the water the battlefield was set on (they were fighting on a ferry) and sprayed acid on them (you can probably get the euphemism here)
However, Mischa actually had enough Luck left to use his Hail Mary, which meant his character got to survive and be set back to full health
Noel’s character, however…
The party got an EXTREMELY detailed description of how their beloved party member looks as he is melted by the Bloated Lamb’s acid
Everyone is now terrified but also PISSED
They gotta get their heads in the game
…Perhaps that is taken a little too literally, though
Round two begins
Constance’s character is killed
The Bloated Lamb literally smashes her into an incredibly gory pulp with its head
And then Ricky’s character is fucking LAUNCHED across this underground lake they’re fighting in because the Bloated Lamb smacked him with its flesh hoof, and he DROWNS
By this point, Mischa and Ocean are STRESSING because they might get a TPK (total party kill)
The entire table is fucking RATTLED
Noel had to get up and walk around because he’s So Overcome, Constance has her head in her hands, Ricky is just in shock because oh my god did his character really DROWN, Ocean and Mischa are SWEATING
And then Penny looks absolutely sinister, feeding on their fear and stress
She Loves This
By some fucking miracle, Mischa and Ocean manage to kill the Bloated Lamb
Even still, the whole party is mourning the loss of their companions…
But then, they get revived! A monster they met before named Valtiel revives the three who died! (but if they die again, then they’re actually fully dead)
And so, the nightmare continues >:)
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blahkugo · 4 years ago
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Rouge
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Satori Tendō x Reader (Haikyuu!!)
Word Count: 2.5k
TW: Mafia AU, Dark themes, Blood play (an excessive amount of blood mentions in general), Knife play, Asphyxiation, Angst (?), mentions of death (no main characters), Just two psychopaths going at it tbh.
A/N: I’m so excited to be writing for @the-smut-pile’s newest collab, hosted by @present-mel, @pleasantanathema, and @linestrider. Please make sure to check out the rest of the masterlist here!
Every night, the smell of bleach stings your nostrils and prayers left unsaid weigh heavy on your tongue. ‘It comes with the job,’ they had warned you, had urged a ‘pretty little thing like you,’ not to take a position you couldn’t stomach. You didn't listen, of course.
Because death isn’t a stranger in your life, nor an old acquaintance you catch up with once every few years. It’s a friend that phones daily, a lover you scurry into bed with—the chill down your spine when you walk home alone in eerie silence.
As a doctor you saw it everyday, with every patient that prayed for pity when the pain became all too much. Cries of the sick plagued your every waking moment; who were you to deny them release? Their suffering ended the moment you injected the drugs.
But you’ve never seen death like this before.
“Daydreaming again, angel?” Tendō swipes a disinfectant across the cold metal counter, rubbing until pools of pomegranate red match his long, messy hair. Despite the dreariness of the task, an impish smile remains plastered across his face, the glint in his eyes unscathed by the scene you’d both just witnessed.
“It’s still Doctor to you.” Try as you might, your voice comes out shaky, your heart pounding so hard you’re worried it may actually jump out. That feeling never quite leaves you.
He straightens his gloves and out comes his signature laugh—that high, maniacal, chuckle that stops just short of a song. You’d rip out your car radio if it meant getting rid of it.
“You haven’t been one for a long time.”
The truth makes you shudder, but he’s right, of course. Once your license had been stripped away and you were on the run, your career had officially ended. An ‘Angel of Mercy,’ all the news stations had called you, yapping on for days when you were that week’s most wanted woman.
You don’t have the right to be called a medical professional and yet, you stand your ground. If it means getting him to quit with the dreadful pet name, you’ll say just about anything.
“Your boss calls me Doctor.”
“Because my boss can’t remember your name.” He meets your eyes, lips quirking upward at the little huff that escapes you, your furrowed brows spilling bits of frustration you so desperately attempt to keep bottled. The air hangs heavy with the shrieks of anger you wish you could unleash, all the words you don’t dare say aloud in fear of looking weaker than he already believes you are.
Instead of challenging you further, Tendō simply turns away, chucking the wipes in a bin and humming a tune far too cheery for a man who just ended a life.
When night comes, you dream of the older man who begged to see his children one last time and the laugh that sounds like a song.
The next day isn’t any better, because it never is. Ushijima’s moles bring in three more bodies for questioning; bodies, because you’ve been instructed to refer to them as nothing but. And they’re young this time, heavily tattooed kids that can’t be much older than nineteen—children that look so much like the thralls of young men you’ve learned to call friends, you have to avert your eyes when they send panicked glances your way.
You wonder if Tendō ever makes these comparisons.
“I’ll only ask once,” the gruff, even voice echoes within the small space. “Who’s your supplier?” Your boss is cold and calculated. He never wavers, never says more than he needs to. He’s everything you’d thought the leader of a crime organization would be and more.
Tendō hovers next to him, gnarled fingers twitching eagerly at the knife splayed between them. It’s his weapon of choice, because—as he mentioned your first day on the job—he can ‘take his time with them’.
The captives crack immediately, pleading helplessly for their lives as they vow they know nothing. They probably don’t, appearing to be nothing more than lowly thugs in a long hierarchy of vile men. It doesn’t stop what comes next.
As expected, Ushijima remains silent except for the soft sigh that leaves him. Tendō sighs as well, though it seems more pleased—euphoric, even—than bored. He presses a slender finger into the tip of his knife, watches as a bit of blood runs down his lean arm, paints a strip of his tattoos red, and drips onto the metal table.
“Are they ours now?” Ours. The word brings bile to your throat. Ushijima makes his way to the door, bluntly calling over his shoulder,
“Do what you must.”
You push up your glasses, Tendō grins, and the screaming begins.
Blood-stained lab coats are a staple of your wardrobe. No matter how hard you scrub, fingers raw and aching, the faded pinks never seem to give. You quit months ago, resorted to throwing the worst ones away instead of putting yourself through that hell.
This coat’s going straight to the bin.
Through every horrid interrogation, you’ve forced yourself to watch. You’ve never looked away, never dared allow him to smell the fear off of you. You hand him the tools, write the information on the clipboard, assist with cleanup and disposal, and answer any questions he may have—like the good little medical doctor turned mafia member you should be.
And Tendō smiles the whole way through. Even as dagger meets flesh, as pained cries shatter your eardrums, as your vision is clouded with red, red, red—Tendō smiles, humming a tune that you hear long into the next evening.
But today, when the third young man had looked you dead in the eyes and sobbed, begging you to tell his mother he loves her, you couldn’t help yourself.
Of course, the towering redhead didn’t fail to detect the misstep.
“Bad day?” He questions innocently, resting his elbows on the now spotless titanium table. His muscles ripple as he leans, boasting the thousands of dollars worth of art across his arms. It bothers you that you notice it, even more that he probably catches you gawking. He sees everything, after all. Everything but the blood still splattered across his body.
“Won’t be the last, for us at least.” Brows raise, as though the thought hadn’t occurred to him. If at all possible, the wicked grin on his face widens.
“You’re exactly right.” And like clockwork, he laughs. Your hands grow cold, ice corroding your veins. He swipes his tongue over his lip, leaving a slick shine on his lips. When he rises and steps toward you, you stand your ground, though you so desperately long to run. “Why so serious?”
“They didn’t know anything,” you mumble under your breath, “and you tortured them anyways.” In all your months of working with him, this is the first you’ve complained—and you immediately wish you hadn’t.
Tendō moves even closer, as though entertained by your tiny outburst. Perhaps he’s been waiting for this moment, for you to finally break your silence. When he speaks, his tone is gentler than usual, but still holds every hint of mockery and nonchalance the bastard is known for,
“It’s our job, angel face.” Another step, another tiny breath you’re holding in, worried that the slightest of sighs might shatter your perfected image of faux indifference. He tilts his head to the side, peering down at you, like you’re- a child.
And the glass breaks.
“Enough.” You splay your hands in front of you, halting him in his tracks, just as he invades your space. “Enough of the patronizing looks, and the humming, and the stupid pet name that you know bothers me!” An accusatory finger is jabbed into his chest. “Don’t you feel guilt? Fear? Empathy? You murder people.”
Your chest burns, heaving with rage. Tendō’s half-smile still sits on his face, words of ridicule ready to roll off his tongue any second. But when you look into his eyes, there seems to be something more—an emotion you can’t quite place. Anger? Understanding?
His next sentence is whispered with such sobriety, you’re unsure who it is you’re speaking to anymore,
“People like us don’t deserve those feelings.”
“There is no us!” The claim may come out crazy, hysterical even— a woman covered in warm blood shrieking within a cold, sterile room. For once, you don’t care. “I’m not like you.”
Those words may be what set him off, hand wrapping around your chin and tilting it up so that you’re unable to look away. Fingers that incite panic and enact violence, fingers you’ve feared since your first day here, clutching you ever-so casually. “Exactly. You’re not like me.”
He doesn’t wait for your rebuttal, gripping harder at your face. “I’ve made my peace with who I am, but you,” his breath fans your cheeks, “you only pretend you don’t enjoy it.”
Then, Tendō’s kissing you. And to your utter surprise, you’re kissing him back. Heat rises within you, the hairs at your neck curling as your lips meet with a ferocity. His palms graze your lab coat—no doubt staining his skin with the blood it’s drenched in—before he’s peeling it off.
When you tug at his messy locks, the butcher smiles and sinks his teeth into your bottom lip. He pulls you closer, hurriedly stripping you of your remaining clothing, until you’re left in just your panties. Hands roam at your supple skin, kneading at your hips, meshing into you wherever he can. All the while, your lips do the same, bleeding into each other until you’re unsure of where you start and he ends.
“No.” The command is stern, perhaps the most you’ve ever been with him. His eyes narrow in disappointment, limbs rapidly untangling from your body. You shove him backwards until his knees hit the edge of the table, nudge him again so that he falls against it, and grab a clean scalpel off the side counter. “No, we do deserve to feel those things.” His grin returns in full force—and he laughs.
This time, you don’t hate it.
“Deep down,” he grunts as you hitch a leg over his thighs and climb onto him, “you know that I’m right.” The scalpel’s pointed tip grazes his black tee, cutting through the material meticulously. You run a palm up his broad chest before pressing a finger to his mouth, smearing nearly dried blood across his jaw in the process.
“You talk too much,” the hushed murmur tumbling from your lips doesn’t sound like you, is foreign and twisted, and too much like him to bode well for either of you. The muscles in his thighs tense beneath you, his hard chest rumbling in a silent glee.
Your fingers brush against his cheekbones and you gasp, losing all perception of who you are. It’s absurd, but the individual you knew before, the persona you so adamantly believed you could uphold, crumbles with a single, soft touch of his skin.
And it’s unfair, really, that someone so beautiful—covered in art, blessed with hair the color of sweet wine and a laugh that sounds like music—could be so utterly fucked up.
When you nick his cheek, observing the drip of blood that trickles down, you wonder if Tendō ever makes these comparisons. And when you lick at it, preening at the groan that leaves him, you wonder if you’re just as fucked up as he is.
All at once, you’re flipped beneath him, back crashing against the cool metal table. He climbs down and drags his pants off, yanks you towards him with one pull of your thighs, and presses against your core. A shiver runs down your spine at the heat, crazes you for something you didn’t think you needed.
“By the way,” Tendō speaks through kisses and nips at your neck, “you are just as fucked up.” Though you hadn’t realized you’d said that aloud, you’re unable to retaliate, only wrap your legs around his middle and moan at a particularly harsh bite. He soothes every spot of broken skin with his tongue, drifting downwards until his lips meet your cotton panties. “How cute.”
“Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting thi– Ah,” your complaint is cut short when he moves them to the side and licks a long stripe up your slit. And he doesn’t stop, lapping and sucking at your soaked cunt, holding you down with one lean arm when you writhe in response to the pressure. “God, fuck.”
“Satori, but I’ll take God too,” he smirks against your mound. It’s then that he inserts a lithe finger, then two, stretching you out until you’re tugging at his long locks, goosebumps raised as the warmth of his mouth intertwines with the cold beneath your back.
You’re panting, unconcerned with time or it’s passing, only his fingers, his tongue circling your puffy bud, and your steady ascension to the edge. Just as your legs tense, breath caught mid-mewl of his name, he stops. You lean up on your elbows, rut against him, searching for more—friction, movement, anything—but he doesn’t let up.
“Fuck- why?” Your cry is loud, whiny even, but you don’t particularly care when euphoria’s been ripped away from you so suddenly.
“Tell me I’m right,” he teases, eyes peering straight through yours. You whine again, a mix between a pained groan and ‘are you fucking serious?’ before he flicks at your bud once more. “Say it.”
And you do. Because, as strongly as you've denied it, you’re every bit as perverse as he is, every bit as infatuated by the idea of power, of playing God—of holding a life between your fingertips and choosing death.
The second the words are out of your mouth, he thrusts deep into you. Your fingers scramble for purchase, nails dragging against the table, then his back, as skin slaps against skin.
There’s nothing gentle about Satori, all lean, hard muscle and jagged edges, but the pain is just as blissful as the pleasure. His fingertips rub at your clit, other hand moving to wrap around your throat and squeeze tightly.
“Satori, I- I need more,” you choke out, lightheaded. And he complies, shifting you to your side and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. Your cries melt into his, sweat soaking your skin, your hair, the table, as he pounds into you over and over again.
“That’s it baby– fuck, let go for me.” He presses the long-forgotten scalpel against your throat—and your vision goes white. Electricity sparks through your spine, your tongue lolls out, and you swear you feel tears run down your cheeks.
He doesn’t stop, working you through the orgasm as your legs bind his waist. A few more thrusts and he’s following you, holding your hips against him so tightly, he’ll probably leave deep purple bruises.
He finally stills, chest falling against yours and heaving, allowing you both to catch your breath. Flashing a set of pearly canines, his wild grin and the glint in his eyes reappear. For the first time since you’ve known him, Tendō is completely silent.
And then he laughs, lawless and untamed, the howl of a hyena that sounds like a song—and you laugh too.
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maple-the-awesome · 3 years ago
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Who Are You, Really? || Prologue
Pairing: (any) Peter Parker x Reader
WARNINGS: Blood, violence, implied death
Words: 1,333
Masterlist
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THE PAIN IN CRIME'S BEHIND
"Following a high-speed chase through lower Manhattan, five of the suspects were finally apprehended by none other than the masked hero, Spiderman. Law enforcement has taken the five into custody where they have been charged with robbery, assault with a deadly weapon, and attempted manslaughter with more charges still pending. The Chief of Police would like to remind the public that at least four other suspects are still on the run. If you have any information on the individuals seen in the provided surveillance videos, you are urged to call the following number-"
The horrid static of the old TV only ceases once it's shut off midway through the reporter's sentence, yet the man remains frozen in place with a same shameful bow of his head. His eyes are glued to the ground, his hands rubbing nervously against his pant leg as if trying to wipe off a stubborn stain of dirt. He isn't brave enough to so much as glance at the woman who stands before him with crossed arms and a glare colder than liquid hydrogen.
She doesn't say anything for a good minute or two since turning off the report which acts as an impressive intimidation method, one that dares the man to break the silence first in order to further fuel her anger. Even when he doesn’t make that mistake, she still moves on with business with a fuming shout.
"Do you realize how much shit you've put the organization in!" It isn't meant as a question despite her used format," a police chase through Manhattan? You were supposed to be on a stealth mission! Get the money and disappear before anyone notices! You didn't even try to be inconspicuous!"
"We tried to be subtle, ma'am, but then Spiderman showed up and one thing led to another. The alarms got tripped, Robbie and the others got webbed up, we...we went one way and the others got captured by Spiderman...there…there was nothing we could do," the man's voice grows quieter with each spoken word, his nerves slowly being ingested by the rageful look he receives. He should've known from the moment he opened his mouth that no excuse could be good enough to soften his current situation.
"Maybe I'm not an expert in the matter, but if it only takes one itsy bitsy spider to crush you, then I'd say you aren't exactly cut out for this line of work, wouldn't you agree?" The woman hisses, the man opening his mouth to further argue for his case, but he isn't granted the pleasure," the boss is furious, I'll have you know. This is the third job this month that you've messed up all because of that Spider."
"I-I understand, ma'am, but I promise you, this was our last mistake! We will succeed for sure next time; I swear it on my life!" The man feels a small sense of relief when the woman turns on her heel away from him, but it's short lived.
"Unfortunately, there won't be a next time, Yousaf," she says it causally while digging through her purse on the table, finally plucking out the phone she searched for. Her voice is now much calmer compared to what it had been just a few seconds prior,"...you see, Spiderman has become quite the nuisance as of lately and our boss is tired of having his toes stepped on, so he's decided to take a new approach to the issue; a more appropriate measure for our desperate times."
Yousaf shallows the lump in his throat, feeling that he might choke," has he…?"
A chill runs down his spine when a quiet 'thud' hits his ears from behind. Unlike the woman who continues to stare down at her device in a bored manner, Yousaf spins around to the sound's source, his heart nearly stopping his chest.
Despite the dark goggles and mask that cover their face, it takes him no time at all to recognize the person who promptly stands from where they had landed on the ground mere feet behind him, unpretentiously sauntering over to join the two.
"Yousaf, I believe you've met (L/n), right? Well, I say 'met', but I'm sure the two of you have never actually spoken to each other. 'Seen' would be a more fitting word, wouldn't it?" At last, the woman glances up from her phone, the corner of her lip tugging upwards into a cruel smirk," the boss has decided it's best to finally utilize our little (L/n) out in the open field since, as I'm sure you're aware, she has a perfect record comparable to an entire gang. With that said, there really won’t be much point in wasting time and patience in keeping you employed with us anymore."
"H...Huh?" It's all he can say through his shocked state.
"Of course, despite your own incompetence, some of your employees show great promise in which the boss plans to put to good use under (L/n)'s command. I'm sure you'll agree that it's an excellent choice, really."
"But what about me?!" The shock finally wares off, replacing itself with vexation," what am I going to do!? I have a family to provide for! I need this job!"
"That's none of our concern anymore," the woman shrugs while turning back to her purse to put her phone away, but Yousaf isn't having it. Throwing his common sense out the window, he lets his fury take over instead, a complete contrast to the submissive behavior he usually shows towards his higher ups.
"BULLSHIT-!" He takes one step forward, reaching his hand out to grab the woman's shoulder, but within a blink of an eye, an agonizing pain is sent through his arm, ripping a scream from his lungs.
Throwing himself back in terror, he only manages to trip over his own feet, but the pain of the cement ground proves far less harrowing than that surrounding his wrist. Lacking the ability to think clearly, he makes the mistake of glancing down at his hand, or at least, where his hand should've been attached.
Another scream rattles through the room yet the woman only spares a tired glimpse over her shoulder, humming at gory sight that greets her eyes," my, you're just a walking disaster anymore, aren't you Yousaf? I'd figure you to have at least a decent amount of intelligent, but I guess this is an even better choice for the company that I originally thought...
"I trust you'll be fine cleaning everything up on your own. I have a meeting across town and would hate to get blood on my skirt," after receiving a wordless nod from you, she swings her purse over her shoulder before going to take her leave, however, as she walks past him, Yousaf reaches out shakily with his remaining hand, grabbing hold of her leg.
"...P-Please...I-I d-don't wanna die-die here!"
"An orders and order, Yousaf, but don't worry. I heard (L/n) is very quick with her work," the woman effortlessly lifts her leg from his grip, shaking her head in disappointment at the sight of the bloody handprint that now stains her stockings.
Her heels create a sharp clicking pattern against the ground which does nothing to echo out the cut off scream left in her wake; not that she pays it any mind anyways. Instead, she taps away at her phone while waiting patiently right outside the warehouse despite the driver of a black Mercedes-Bez holding the vehicle’s door open for her mere feet away.
"Don't worry yourself with the body. He wants it to be a message to anyone else who's thinking of slipping up," she explains dully once feeling your presences,” I'll assume you already understand your next target. The boss has given you the freedom to take down Spiderman in any method you see fit. No one cares how messy it gets, just get it done."
She barely spares you a glance as you coolly clean the blood off your sword with an already stained towel, your goggles glowing in the shine of the streetlights," of course, ma'am."
NEXT CHAPTER ➡️
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moosoobi · 4 years ago
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Battle Royale
(1) Fresh bread, French Prince
G.Lafayette : Hamilton the musical
Sometimes when you work on a project, there are moments when you need to take a break and work on something else. That’s really the case with In The Night, I have all these ideas but sometimes I feel confined to ITN (I literally have not started Chapter 3 when this is posted). And thus this fic was born. I hope you enjoy! 
Y/N and Lafayette’s POV 
Bridgerton inspired AU (watching the Bridgerton series would probably help in understanding ideas of ‘courting’ and finding a suitors) 
Odd social structure (dukes are essentially owners of land which was popularized in London, Washington is considered a president, and Lafayette is now a prince!) 
not my cover image 😟
Word count: 4k
Literally the biggest thanks to @deja-you for proofreading and some great feedback, ILY 🧎‍♀️
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—-the Washington residence
The dreamy clouds would stream across the sky as Y/N began to read the newest article from Thomas Paine, the most notorious writer known for acknowledging every piece of gossip and whispers among the noble colonists. 
The pamphlet felt newly written, as few spots of the odd-smelling ink would smudge. Though Y/N was not awake, a young boy delivered this meticulous pamphlet to the Washington residence before dawn. 
As the daughter of the president, being the center of noble gossip was nothing new to her, in fact, gossip was never the center of her attention either. But something about this pamphlet in particular would surely catch her eye. 
She began to read:
‘The scene for this courting season is looking quite interesting. Now that these young ladies are finally of age, they will indeed add competition to the scene.’
Ah yes, the annual  courting season. A time for women and men to make their move and commence into the adult world. While many aren’t satisfied with their partners, reputation seems to grow higher than feelings. 
‘Many pertinent names are included in this season, and I’m honored to document the presence of these people.’ 
‘The Schuylers: all three of the incredible General Schuyler’s daughters are finally entering the courting scene simultaneously. During the war, many soldier boys would fall head over heels to impress them, and many were unsuccessful. I’m ecstatic to observe the lucky men to take the hand of Angelica, Elizabeth, and Peggy Schuyler.’ 
‘The Payne’s: Miss Dolley Payne has finally been granted entrance into this courting season. Many theories and speculation suggest that her arrival to the scene at the same time as the other great names was not a coincidence.’ 
‘And finally, the most significant family joining us this season,’ 
Y/N sucked in a breath 
‘The Washington’s: His grace’s pride and joy, Y/N, will be the most imperative competition this season. The pressure of being the president’s daughter, as well as the stigma of conceiving an heir, follow her wherever she resides. Nonetheless, Y/N Washington is an extraordinary star among the courting scene, and it would indeed be foolish to throw away your shot.’ 
‘It’s just common sense.’ 
‘-Thomas Paine’ 
It would take Y/N a couple moments before her squeals of excitement could be heard across the residence 
Shortly after, the rumbles of Y/N racing down the stairs would cause her parents, George and Martha, to take suspicious glances at each other. Y/N finally reached the dinner table where her parents were finishing up their morning tea. 
“What’s got you going so early, dear? I usually have to pull you out of bed around this time,” Martha questioned 
“Sir Payne wrote about me in the paper! My entrance to the courting scene seems to be the most glittering cluster of ink in this pamphlet” She squealed 
Y/N excitedly, yet also harshly, slid the pamphlet over to her parents, moments later they would observe her words to be true 
“That’s great, dear” Her father, George, looked up from the paper with a smile. “I know you’ll represent the Washington Family name well, although it’s a shame you’ll have to lose it when you get married” he sighed 
“Oh lighten up George, Y/N will be the talk of the town, I’m sure she’ll attract some worthy gentleman” 
“Damn right he better be worthy.” His eyes transferred from Martha to Y/N 
“Remember Y/N, very few are prepared to handle a Washington, you can even ask your mother.” 
Y/N couldn’t hold in a giggle as Martha rolled her eyes. Both Y/N and George watched as Martha arose to place her porcelain dishes in the sink
“Well I must be soo blessed to have to take care of two of them.” 
George turned back to Y/N and slid her a letter across the table, keeping another letter in his opposite hand, which was still unopened
 “May I ask what this is?” She held up the letter. Even the feeling of the paper could tell Y/N that it came from the colonial gentry. The scent faintly reminded Y/N of champagne and flowers, and the seal was a sparkling coral-pink shade. The letter appeared to be already opened 
“The Schuyler’s are inviting you to a small tea get-together, whatever you kids call it.” 
Y/N opened the envelope, searching for the details. How exciting was this, to be among the best of the best, especially in the greatest city in the world. Before she could reply, George began to speak again
“I’ve already requested for two escorts to accompany you on your way to the Schuyler residence.” Y/N turned to him in confusion 
“Huh?” She questioned “escorts?”
“Now that you’re officially in this courting season, your safety could be potentially in danger. I’m just trying to make you comfortable” He retorted 
“Father, I’m sure I’m capable of walking on my own. I mean, the Schuyler residence isn’t even that far and-”
Y/N was interrupted by multiple knocks on her door. She shot a ‘this isn’t over’ glare to her father before wandering over to her front door. She opened the door and found a surprise
The Duke of Monticello and the Duke of Manhattan, my father’s two trusted secretaries. Dropping the formalities, Y/N addressed them by their first name 
“Thomas? Alexander? Don’t tell me..” she turned back to her father. Jefferson and Hamilton stood at the doorway, both with flowers and nervous in the presence of Washington 
“Father, I’m starting to question whether you worry for my safety, or worry for your pickiness of my suitor.” Thomas and Alex attempted to hold in their laughs as if their lives depended on it 
“Of course I do!” He held a hand to his chest as if he was hurt “although I do owe them a favor-” a smirk spread across Thomas’s and Alexander’s face, yet was quickly faded as Washington addressed them 
“But no funny business with my daughter. If I hear of any shenanigans from either one of you, you both have serious consequences.” Y/N turned back to the dukes, both of them appearing drained of color. 
“Let me get dolled up and we can be on our way” Y/N swiftly ran upstairs, leaving Thomas and Alexander alone in the presence of their boss. Those poor, poor, boys
Five minutes later, Y/N glided down the stairs in her fancier skirt. Her corset gave her an amazing shape, and her hair made her appear to be a celestial being. She caught the dukes’ eyes lingering on her for a little too long. Luckily, Washington wasn’t around. “Let’s keep our focus on what’s really matters, guys” she laughed 
“R-right...” they said in unison, both turning away and pretending to be interested in the furniture in the house. Y/N had never seen the two secretaries so calm around each other, it made her realize the power the Washington’s have in the colonies. A simple order from a Washington could probably end wars, especially if it’s capable of making Jefferson and Hamilton contain their pride 
“Your graces?” She held out her hands, signifying that she was ready to depart. The dukes held out their forearm and elbows for her to take. Y/N intertwined her arms into theirs, and they headed for the Schuyler residence.
A few minutes down the path and Alexander Hamilton decided to break the silence 
“I still can’t believe you’re entering this season, Y/N. I mean, I still remember running around those horrid military camps all those years ago” he chuckled. It’s true, it’s been all these years since the war and so much has changed 
“I like to believe I’ve grown into a wonderful, young woman, don’t you think?” I batted my eyelashes towards both of them 
“Of course darlin’” Jefferson cut in “but just because we’re your honorable colleagues doesn’t mean Hamilton and I won’t be lining up for your hand” 
“Don’t be so sure. I heard this season has a few aggressive competitors on both sides. The Schuylers, the Paynes, even the Madisons! I might have to step up my game. In the meantime, both of you have to keep an open mind.” 
Thomas and Hamilton stared at each other, surprised by her response. 
“And If I find out that both of you placed bets on which one of you will earn my hand, I’ll be reminding my father to collect both of your heads.” 
Their heads hung in defeat “alright, alright darlin’ I think I kind of like my head attached to my body. No need to get violent.” 
“Plus I don’t think any of you can truly handle a Washington.” Y/N giggled, her arms still intertwined with theirs
“If Jefferson and I don’t scare away the competition, I’m sure your father will” Alexander chuckled, Thomas visibly reacted to the joke as well 
“Oh come on, the two most popular dukes of the colonies have nothing on a suitor that is truly worthy of me” she scoffed 
“And where would you find such a worthy contestant? Someone better than a duke?” The three stopped in front of the Schuyler residence 
“Don’t kill my hopes, a Washington has her ways” Y/N removed her arms from Thomas’s and Alexander’s, heading for the front door. As soon as she was greeted by General Schuyler herself, she waved goodbye to the clashing dukes 
“She’s so mine, Hamilton.” Thomas stated 
“I’m sure you should be worried about your tomcat nature, Jefferson, don’t get too ahead of yourself” Alex retorted
Jefferson audibly scoffed before wandering with him into the city 
—-France
3 weeks prior to Y/N reading that exciting pamphlet, Marquis de Lafay-- Now Prince Lafayette sat around a table of French nobles and officials. It felt like ages since he’s been in the colonies, and it has only been a few years ever since the French Revolution had ended. Yet instead of abolishing the monarchy system in France as Lafayette promised to the colonies, he and a few other nobles replaced the previous royal family. 
Lafayette was later titled as a Prince, as were other leading men of France, but he urged to continue being addressed as the ‘Hero of two worlds’. 
But with a new era upon the people of France, came the countless government meetings and conflicts that he had to resolve. 
“Your Majesty? Are you even paying attention?” Secretary Robespierre whispered over his shoulder, causing him to visibly straighten himself out. 
“O-Oui. Why wouldn’t I be?” Lafayette laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. Robespierre rolled his eyes before whispering again. 
“This is our last meeting of the day. With all due respect sir, can you get yourself together?” 
“Okay, Okay.” Lafayette sighed with boredom 
He missed the colonies dearly, sometimes he wished he never left at all, but seeing his country yearn for a revolution compelled him to sail across the Atlantic once again. He often daydreamed of his riskier lifestyle with his closest friends and soldiers, as well as the feeling of awe while serving directly under General Washington. Never in his life did Lafayette think he would miss the adrenaline rush of stealing cannons and leading fully arm battalions. 
His teenage memories of fooling around in those military camps, wandering the streets of New York City severely intoxicated, and the best memories of all, the memories of escorting the General’s daughter, Y/N Washington, to buy bread and pastries for him and his fellow soldiers. 
Oh, what could she be doing now? 
If it weren’t for the revolution at hand, Lafayette would’ve surely bent a knee once she set foot onto the military camping grounds. Lafayette held such a high respect for Y/N when they first met, especially since she was the daughter of his most admired general. The women in France just couldn’t compare to her heavenly beauty, and her kindness was unbeatable. She was the greatest treasure that Lafayette had stumbled across during his time in the colonies. Although many noblewomen would attempt to take a bite of him, Lafayette stayed loyal to his non-existent promise to Y/N.
A quick quill-slam to the table, and he was quickly drawn back to his reality. Why should he worry about his previous General’s daughter anyway? Lafayette was now a Prince, he could have anything he wanted. But the moment he set foot in France after the American Revolution, he lost the most precious things he already had. He yearned for glory, but at what cost? The cost of abandoning his bonds in the colonies? 
He sighed, standing from the meeting table and wandering to his quarters. Secretary Robespierre followed closely behind him. Sensing an odd tension from Lafayette’s mood, Robespierre attempted to address his situation
“Do you need anything, your majesty?” Lafayette froze in his tracks, weighing his two options 
“Actually...” Lafayette turned to face him “Schedule me a ship to the colonies. The earliest one you can find.” 
Robespierre tilted his head in confusion, letting the last sentence sizzle in his head.
 “I’m sorry, what?” 
The prince in distress sighed with fatigue. “I’ve decided I’m heading to the colonies, tout suite.” Lafayette kept his gaze strong  
‘B-but sir, you have so much to take care of-” Robespierre was notably panicking at this moment. “-and the recent shortages-”
“Mon Ami, there are at least three other ‘crowned princes’ who are perfectly capable of maintaining this nation. One prince gone won’t hurt the economy”  Prince Lafayette stated firmly 
Robespierre debated for a moment before confirming his thoughts “Alright. I’ll notify you when the earliest ship can be sailed. But what shall you do about the gossip? Perhaps they will believe you are not responsible enough for this role.”  
“Let the people speak as they please. In the end, I’ll remind them who’s in charge.” Lafayette began towards his quarters once again, Robespierre stayed behind to script all of his thoughts. 
Finally in his study, Lafayette dipped his quill into the nearest container of ink and started to write. 
‘To the Great General Washington, It’s been ages since we’ve last written…’
Maybe Lafayette will be able to have a taste of his old life. 
---the Schuyler residence
Giggling echoed throughout the Schuyler residence as the 5 girls enjoyed their tea. 
“Have you gals read Payne’s newest pamphlet? We’re the talk of the town as of now” Angelica, the oldest Schuyler, smiled with satisfaction. Her luminous complexion complemented her coral pink gown. 
“I never expected our courting debut to be so..” Eliza searched for the right words “..turbulent among the talkers..” she took a sip of her tea 
“I’m still stunned by the feedback” Y/N laughed nervously “My father even requested his two most clashing secretaries to escort me here, they didn’t even argue once” she said in awe 
The top 5 girls of the season all sat in one room. Though they would eventually become each other's courting competition, they were great friends nonetheless. During the war, Y/N would stay in the Schuyler household while their fathers were out of town daydreaming of being free from the king, attending a few balls together, and watching soldier boys trip over themselves. After the war ended, Dolley Paine became a mutual connection through their high ranking families. The 5 got along way too quickly. 
Peggy held up the tea pot “another fill, ladies?” Y/N and Dolley nodded, both taking their turns to fill their cups. 
“Awee, look at you Peggy, you’ll make a perfect wife” Dolley teased. The rest of the girls laughed it off, yet Y/N didn’t feel at ease with that statement. 
“You don’t actually think we will all get married that quickly, do you?” Y/N looked around to see their confused expressions. “Guys?” 
“Well..” Angelica pondered for a moment “I believe that it’s ideal to marry on your first season” 
Peggy had to stop herself from spitting out her tea 
“That soon? But we’re so young, and-” Eliza interrupted
“And we’re ladies. Society expects us to do nothing more and nothing less with what we’re given” Angelica takes a content sip of her tea once again “I don’t make the rules around here.” 
The silence was awfully louder than the conversation. 
“Alright.” Dolley smiled “I guess we'll just have to make this next few weeks extra special, right?” 
Y/N took a deep breath “the best of the best.” She muttered
Peggy turned to her and nodded, and Eliza was quick to join. Y/N faked a smile at the girls, ‘I guess that’s just how it is’ is what she thought, and Angelica would raise her glass for a toast 
“A toast to the best courting season?” The 4 other girls raised their glass as well. 
Though many hours were filled with laughter and giggles, Y/N couldn’t help but imagine how much her life would change within the next few months. And just by entering this season, Y/N will give up her youth and give someone her hand to please someone. To please herself? To please the people? To please her parents? She had no clue 
She stared out the window, remembering those nights of staying at the Schuyler residence, watching those drunk soldiers stumble across the street. Many of them were her friends, friends she had met through her fathers rank. She smiled at the thought of the most memorable gentleman she had met while at those camps. 
‘The French Foreigner’ is what they used to call him, but only before he became comfortable in the colonies. ‘Marquis de Lafayette’ was his title, and Y/N always loved the sound of his name rolling off her tongue. 
“I don’t know what my father told you, but I’m sure I don’t need you to accompany me simply to buy bread” Y/N stood stubbornly 
Lafayette gently grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips 
“I just want you to be safe, mon ange, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you got hurt..”
 He kissed the back of her hand, maintaining eye contact. Y/N appeared as if she just experienced a revelation “..shall we be on our way, mademoiselle?” 
She took a moment to think, her head still in the clouds. Y/N slowly nodded “Alright.” The two intertwined arms and headed into the city 
Oh how she missed the old days. Y/N hated to admit it, but she truly believed she met the most exquisite gentlemen during the war. Whenever she’d stay at the camps with her father, a small group of soldiers would always keep her company. A tailor, an abolitionist, two immigrants, the camps were definitely a mixing pot. 
At that very moment, Y/N prayed she’d be able to find someone like the men at her fathers military camp during this courting season. 
Y/N jumped at the tapping on her shoulder
“Y/N? Don’t tell me you already have suitors lining up out there for you” Y/N shook her head and laughed 
“I just spaced out. That’s all.” She attempted to change the subject “What were we talking about?” She questioned 
Peggy interrupted “Next week's ball, the first ball of the season. Do we show up in our best, or do we build suspense until the last seasonal ball?” Peggy debated 
“Let’s take one ball at a time, shall we?” Eliza proposed her idea 
“Well for the first ball, I suggest….” All the girls gathered around Angelica to hear her plan
—-Lafayette’s quarters (France)
Prince Lafayette neatly folded his clothes as he was departing for the colonies within a few hours. He remembers the excitement he felt when he traveled to the colonies for the first time, having to dress like a pregnant woman in order to board the ship, but he still cringes at the imagery. 
He elegantly stuffed his belongings into his shoulder bag. He stood back to admire his rushed work, but he felt as if he was missing something. 
Lafayette looked around his quarters, his eyes became glued on his treasured gun, gifted to him by General Washington himself. The wooden hilt was stained with god knows what, but the gold trimmings were shining in the afternoon sunlight. 
He’d already have French soldiers accompanying him, he was a prince after all. Would he need such weaponry? 
“I do not see why not.” He muttered to himself before stuffing it into his bag with the rest of his belongings. Lafayette dusted off his fancy clothing and stood in triumph, well, before a woman cleared her throat behind him. 
Lady Adrienne stood at the doorway to his study, her emerald green skirts creased against the doorframe. Lafayette and Adrienne previously courted before he left for the colonies, which ended up being her last straw. Lady Adrienne attempted to stop him, since she was a loyalist to the monarchs of France, but Lafayette refused to listen. 
“que veux-tu? I'm busy at the moment.” Lafayette covered his bag with a nearby coat, crossing his arms. 
“I heard you’re going back to the colonies. What’s so special across the ocean that you can’t have here? You’re a prince for god sake” 
“It’s none of your concern, get out of-”
“Last time you left for the colonies- left me for the colonies- you just weren’t the same when you came back.” she was on the verge of yelling
Lafayette sighed, having already been through this conversation ever since he came back to France. 
“This is nonsense. I need to be alone as of now.” Lafayette turned away from her to continue packing his belongings. She had a hurt expression on her face; part of her mind refused to believe he wasn’t her suitor anymore. Ever since he left for the colonies. 
She slowly began to advance towards him. “That is no way to talk to your previous courting partner, Lafayette.” Her tone was strong yet unsure. 
“It’s Prince Lafayette to you, and there’s a reason why we’re not courting now..” He was notably irritated by her presence. 
Lady Adrienne wasn’t leaving his quarters until she was given an answer. 
“Was I not enough for you to stay in France…?” she rested a hand on his shoulders, Lafayette visibly cringed. “What’s in the colonies that you can’t have here?” 
Lafayette swiftly turned towards her, brushing her hand off of his shoulder in disgust. “I don’t have to answer to you—“ he attempted to retort
“—Don’t tell me you’re still mad that I had more faith in the monarchs of our country rather than you” 
Lady Adrienne rolled her eyes annoyingly, Lafayette blood had already begun boiling long ago. She started moving closer to Lafayette, attempting to trap him in his room, and forcing him to stay in France. Although this was her main plan, she wanted an answer, and she wanted it now. 
“Your own lover didn’t believe in you. Is that why you’re so upset? It’s quite the reaction for something so minuscule—” she scoffed. 
Lafayette snapped
“—as a matter of fact, you weren’t my lover. It’s not you, its...” 
Lafayette, clearly frustrated, struggled to hold up under his old friend’s gaze. She saw it in his eyes, the way they lightened when he thought about the colonies. 
She saw a similar light in them the day he returned from France. Perhaps it was the praise he obtained for the foreign war, or perhaps some treasures he discovered, or maybe someone.
“Lafayette... Did you find another partner in the colonies?” 
The panic was visible in his eyes, but there no was no reason to panic, he thought. 
Lafayette brushed up against lady Adrienne, his lips were millimeters from her ear. He began
“Our relationship ended from the moment I set foot on that ship, and I do not regret it one bit..” 
He stepped out of her reach and continued to pack away his belongings, Lady Adrienne was frozen with shock.
“My business in the colonies is my business only,” He stated strongly. “And you are free to believe whatever you want, it would benefit me in the least to care about what you think. Am I being clear?” 
Lady Adrienne could only stand in silence
“Security! I’d love for you to escort this maiden out of this quarters at once!”
He’d never forget the hatred in her eyes as she was humiliatingly taken away. Lafayette kept his mind on his current task: the colonies await his arrival. 
—to be continued—
213 notes · View notes
baya-ni · 4 years ago
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How Ep 7 Gave Us More Reasons to Hate ADAM, Beyond Being a Homewrecker: a Short Essay
Ok look, I know that we all hate ADAM for a multitude of reasons including but not limited to: driving wedge between renga, traumatizing reki, engaging in weird pedophilic bullshit with Langa, and just being a creep in general. But it's this scene from ep 7 between ADAM and Tadashi in particular that really infuriates me...
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And I don't see a lot of analysis of the truly horrid implications of this scene so I’ve taken it upon myself. In this essay, I’ll dive into ADAM/Tadashi flashback scene of ep 7, exploring the dynamics of their relationship through a class lens, and demonstrating the true extent to which ADAM deserves to be shot between the eyes. Ok let’s do it.
Early on in the season, we get a clear sense of ADAM's character as pompous and condescending, if not through the way he skates but through the way he treats his secretary; he degrades Tadashi, calls him names, shows no gratitude despite Tadashi’s unfailing service and compliance.
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And ADAM's abuse of Tadashi culminates in ep 7, when we learn that ADAM plans on letting Tadashi take the fall for his acts of political corruption.
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But what I find truly awful is the reason why ADAM is going to let Tadashi take the fall. In ep 7, we get this flashback:
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So these scenes tell us is that ADAM was first groomed by his father (then later by his aunts) to occupy some position of great influence in society, in business, in politics, or something similar. He was probably born into great wealth (since his family could afford to send him to America for school) and was expected to take up the mantel as family patriarch or something like that.
And in this scene, it’s implied that in an attempt to get ADAM to finally “grow up”, his father forces him to give up skating, trashes his board, and sends him away to America. Tadashi witnesses this, and clearly sympathizes with ADAM, but doesn't speak up for him.
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And supposedly, ADAM feels so betrayed by Tadashi's silence...
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...That he carries this grudge into his adult life, and it fuels his abusive behavior towards Tadashi. This is so utterly fucked up for so many reasons.
This scene takes place when ADAM was still a teenager, which means that Tadashi has served as his assistant/secretary for many, many years. I wouldn't be surprised if Tadashi's family has been serving ADAM's family for generations; Tadashi's loyalty to ADAM despite the abuse seems to imply such is the case- he has an inherited obligation to remain at ADAM's side.
But I also do think that Tadashi genuinely cares for ADAM, at least the person he used to be. If Tadashi has been tied to ADAM's family since ADAM was a teen, it's likely that they grew up together, and were probably close friends. One can imagine that ADAM often confided in Tadashi, trusted him and shared with him his love for skating. And though ADAM had skating friends like CHERRY and JOE, Tadashi would be the only one to understand the full extent of the expectations placed on ADAM to give up anything unrelated to his career and the success of his family.
My point is that Tadashi obviously feels guilty about not speaking up- its probably a big reason why he's so determined to stay by ADAM's side and why goes along with every one of ADAM’s dangerous skating (and skating related) stunts. He failed to support ADAM in the past, so he does so now. But ADAM hasn't forgiven Tadashi and never will...
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Rather, ADAM’s bitterness and resentment runs so deep, he sees Tadashi as nothing but a disposable tool.
But here’s the kicker, this backstory is some great drama (and I’ve been dying to know what the whole deal with Tadashi is) but the relationship between ADAM and Tadashi tells us a lot about what kind of person ADAM is, and why we should hate him for more than just being a renga homewrecker.
If we step back for a moment and and analyze the flashback a bit more objectively (that is, without much consideration for either of these characters’ personalities) what we have is a deeply troubling power imbalance.
Fundamentally, Tadashi is ADAM’s employee, and has been for all of ADAM’s adult life. No matter how fond ADAM might have been of Tadashi in the past, the gap in their wealth and class would have prevented them from ever being equals.
Tadashi has always had more to lose than ADAM.
And this holds especially true for the events of the flashback. What ADAM expected was for a Tadashi, who at the time couldn’t have been much older than ADAM, so literally a teenager, to jeopardize his livelihood by standing up to ADAM’s father, essentially the boss of his boss, in a culture that stresses respect for your superiors above almost all else, just so his skinny privileged ass could skateboard. It’s the entitlement and sheer willful Ignorance of that sentiment that really makes my skin crawl.
And again, this office scene illustrates an earlier point I made that Tadashi always has more to lose than ADAM.
See how despite whatever trauma ADAM experienced in being made to give up skating and being sent away to America, he’s now one of the wealthiest and most influential political figures in Japan such that he has police chief in his pocket. He’s one of the greatest skaters the underground skating scene has ever witnessed and the founder of S, the most popular skating race in the region.
He hasn’t suffered one bit, yet Tadashi has lost everything.
Blackmailed and abused, a forced accomplice and fall guy for ADAM’s political corruption, Tadashi is a hostage and a victim, all because of one moment many years ago when a teenage Tadashi dared to choose self preservation over self sacrifice.
It makes me sick.
But at the same time, cheers to the writers for getting me to hate a character so singularly for so many reasons. I’m now very invested in Tadashi’s character and I so hope we get to see him team up with The Gang and the Inspector to get ADAM’s ass thrown in jail.
So in sum, Eat The Rich, Tadashi supremacy, thank you all for coming to my TedTalk.
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melzula · 4 years ago
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Obstacles
~ part of the fire lilies series ~
requests: Could you write a Fire Lilies blurb where Zuko struggles with how to approach being around Princess Reader when she avoids him and/or gives him the silent treatment? // Hi- I was wondering if you could write a fire lillies blurb where, when the gaang first starts interacts with zuko, they are more protective of the reader. Simply because they know the history between the two.
a/n: the format of this is a little different than how I normally write but I think it works :)
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Though Zuko had finally become a part of Team Avatar, he still found himself to be the odd one out of the group. From Katara’s cold glare to Sokka’s reluctance of being left alone with the prince, Zuko struggled to find his place amongst the group. It was odd and new and strange, but at least it was a start in the right direction, and his first step included mending things with the Princess. He had gotten her to fall in love with him once, so it couldn’t be that hard to do it again, right?
In truth, it was very hard. Zuko faced many obstacles and many set backs, and it would probably be some time before she even so much as looked at him, let alone forgave him...
~~~
Katara
Zuko watched from afar as the Princess handled her chores for the day, sitting peacefully by the fountain as she washed the clothes. Her movements were delicate but precise, the water flowing smoothly through the dirt and the grime collected on Toph’s green robes, and a faint smile graced her features as she hummed softly through the work. She was at peace and completely relaxed, more relaxed than Zuko had ever seen y/n in years. Even in Ba Sing Se there had always been a nervous edge to her, an edge she did her best to hide from Zuko, and she had almost been completely rid of it until the caves. He cringed at the thought, guilt overcoming him at the fact that she seemed so much better off without him.
“What are you doing?” Katara scowls accusingly, startling the Prince from his silent watch over y/n.
“I-“
“Y/N’s been really happy ever since she left you, and you’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you ruin that for her,” the water bender scolds harshly.
“I just want to apologize to her,” Zuko replies calmly, but Katara isn’t having it.
“A simple apology is never going to fix all the ways you’ve hurt her. Y/n deserves better, and if I ever see you make her upset or uncomfortable I won’t hesitate to step in.”
Zuko says nothing as Katara stalks away, he knows better than to get in her way when she’s angry, and when her retreating form finally disappears he looks back at the fountain.
The clothes have been washed, and the Princess is gone.
~~~
Sokka
The smell of stew was heavenly to Zuko’s rumbling tummy, and he was eager to join everyone by the fireside. Bowls had been served, seats had been chosen, and an empty spot beside the Princess was his for the taking.
“Excuse me, buddy,” Sokka chirps, patting Zuko heartily on the back before quickly sitting himself beside y/n. She smiles softly at the water tribe boy and offers him her leftovers to which he happily accepts.
Zuko deflates, choosing to sit next to Aang and enjoy his stew of failure. This isn’t the first time this has happened, and it probably won’t be the last. He knew Sokka was just protecting her, and he couldn’t be mad at him for that. Sokka had probably done more for y/n in her time with him than Zuko had ever done, who was he to blame his protectiveness?
Y/n offers to take the empty dishes to wash, and as Zuko attempts to follow after her his path is quickly blocked by Sokka.
“Listen, I know you’re trying to make things right, and while I respect that, y/n’s asked me to keep you away from her,” he explains as gently as he can. “It’s nothing personal, but I care about her and I want to make sure she feels comfortable.”
“Oh... I understand,” Zuko utters quietly. “Will you at least tell her that I love her?”
“...I’ll do my best,” Sokka replies solemnly, watching with a pang of guilt as Zuko retreats to his room for the night.
~~~
Aang
“What am I supposed to do?” Zuko groans whilst tugging at his hair.
“You know I’m a firm believer in peace, and I do think that neither of you will be happy until your issues are resolved,” Aang comments wisely. “But I also think you should never force anything. Y/n will come around in her own time when she’s ready.”
“But that could take forever!” He protests. “I’ve already been away from her long enough, and being near her but not being able to speak to her is torture.”
Both boys turn their gazes towards y/n in the distance where she carefully brush Appa’s hair and talk to him about his day. The sight is very Princess like, which is fitting since she is a Princess after all, but the sweetness of it all makes Zuko’s heart ache with longing.
“What you did wasn’t right,” Aang sighs. “And she’s still healing. But, if she truly couldn’t stand you then she wouldn’t have given her blessing to let you stay.”
“She only let me stay so I could train you,” Zuko argues.
“Okay, that’s true. But she also washes your clothes, serves you dinner, and just the other day I saw her mending a hole in your boot. She won’t talk to you, but she does still care.”
“She’s always had such a big heart,” he murmurs dejectedly. “Back when I was still hunting you y/n always went out of her way to take care of me even if I didn’t want it. I was a fool to take her for granted.”
“I really do think you guys will work it out. Just don’t force anything, and you’ll be fine,” Aang comforts, and the two continue to watch the Princess as she tends to Appa.
~~~
Toph
With a bouquet of wild flowers in hand and his hair combed in that same horrid style his Uncle had given him back in Ba Sing Se, Zuko headed to her room in hopes of finally talking to the Princess. He knew how much y/n loved flowers, and he also knew how much she loved that ridiculously dorky hairstyle, so he hoped that the two combined together would at least earn him a smile in return.
But when he arrived to her part of the temple he found that her door was barricaded with a smooth slab of rock, and sitting a few feet away from said rock was Toph. The little girl sat leaning against the wall, legs crossed over each other and hands folded behind her head.
“Sorry, sparky, boss’s orders,” she explains with a small shrug, and Zuko deflates. “Personally I think she just needs to man up and face you, but until then I’ve been put under strict orders not to let you in.”
“She really hates me, doesn’t she?” Zuko sighs, joining Toph against the wall. The flowers in his hand are beginning to droop from the lack of water, much like his demeanor from his lack of y/n.
“No, but she’s very angry,” Toph corrects. “Really sad, too. Sokka’s already been in there three times tonight.”
“Are they...?”
“Together? He wishes,” the girl scoffs. “His heartbeat picks up a beat or two sometimes when he’s with her, but he’d never make a move on her. Not when she’s so upset and he’s the only one she can talk to.”
“Yeah, well maybe they should be together,” Zuko grumbles, the flower stems charring in his hands from the sudden heat that emits from his palms. “They’re both water tribe and he obviously takes care of her better than I ever could.”
“That’s true,” Toph nods much to Zuko’s dismay. “But she doesn’t love Sokka. She loves you.”
“Loved,” Zuko corrects only for Toph to roll her eyes.
“You dunderhead,” she mutters before punching him in the shoulder. “I should just knock your heads together and make you kiss and make up right now.”
“Can you do that?” Zuko asks hopefully only to receive another punch from Toph.
“You sure do have a lot to learn, sparky.”
~~~
The Princess
The morning is quiet and calm as you rise with the sun, heading out to collect the dew on the plants of the temple so that you may use it as water for your group. Other than Momo, who sits comfortably on your shoulders, everyone is asleep, giving you some time to decompress and enjoy the solitude of the rising sun.
“Anything I can help with?”
Or so you thought. Of course Zuko would approach you now when there was no one to keep him away from you. You say nothing in response, refusing to even look at him as you set down your bucket and begin to remove the dew from the leaves.
“Y/n, please talk to me,” he begs. “Let me make it better.”
Zuko is met with silence and an eye roll. Momo chitters curiously at the Princess, receiving a head scratch in return which is more than Zuko can say.
“I never stopped thinking of you,” he says. “And I wish I could take back everything I’ve done to hurt you.”
“I don’t want your apologies,” you utter quietly. “I want you to go away.”
Hearing your voice after being met with silence for so long brings the boy to tears, and with a hesitant demeanor Zuko reaches out for you. However, at the sight of the water glowing your palms the Prince takes a step back. You’re not afraid to turn your bending on him, not anymore, and it isn’t until now that he realizes he really has hurt you, more than he could ever have imagined.
“Y/n...”
“Go. Don’t make me ask again.”
With a defeated sigh Zuko turns away and leaves the Princess to her own devices. She goes back to tending to the dew, and the Prince goes back to his room to wallow in his shame.
Both have tears streaming down their faces.
| tags: @rainteslerrrr @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @coldlilheart @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @eridanuswave @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang |
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hopelesshawks · 4 years ago
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Physical Fatality Part 4- Task Force Bonding
18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader
Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.
If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf
This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni
Warnings for alcoholism mention, hand job, fingering
Masterlist
“Boys, I’ve got an announcement,” Hawks declares as he strolls into the office and grabs a seat by Shoto and Tokoyami. “Is it an explanation of what the fuck you did last night to end up soaking wet and late to evacuate from an emergency?” Shoto asks. “Actually yes it is,” Hawks replies smugly. “Wait actually? Ok what is it?” Tokoyami says as both he and Shoto turn to give Hawks their full attention. “I’m in love,” Hawks declares. Tokoyami and Shoto both groan and go back to paying attention to the tasks they’d been focused on when Hawks first walked in. “Hey what’s with those reactions?” Hawks pouts. “We already know you think you’re in love with Mirko. We were expecting actual news,” Shoto says by way of explanation. “What? No, not Mirko. Mirko and I are done. Mirko is dead,” Hawks says. “Mirko is dead?” “Not literally Shoto.” “Right. Who are you in love with then?” “I don’t actually know her name.”
Hawks does not appreciate the incredulous looks both Tokoyami and Shoto give him. “Will you guys just let me explain! Look it was like when I first saw her it was like magnets. There was just something pulling me towards her. So, of course, I had to approach her,” Hawks explains. “She rejected you didn’t she?” Tokoyami interrupts. “Oh is that why you don’t know her name?” Shoto asks. “No! Oh my god let me finish,” Hawks says exasperatedly. “Ok, ok we’ll let you finish,” Tokoyami cedes as he and Shoto both raise their hands in surrender. “Thank you. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Hawks starts again with a roll of his eyes, “I approached her and we got talking and she suggests we go to the hotel bar. Except we get there and it’s closed. So we steal a bottle and break into the hotel pool.” “Hence the soaking wet part,” Shoto says. “Exactly, hence the soaking wet part. Anyway we had a magical evening and even more magical sex and I’ve never met anyone like her before and I’m in love,” Hawks finishes. “Why the fuck didn’t you get her name then?” Tokoyami asks. “The goddamn alarm went off. Apparently she just broke off an engagement or something so she didn’t want the scandal of us going outside together and I forgot to ask her before she ran off,” Hawks admits. “So what’s the game plan?” Shoto asks. “Try and find her I guess. She was there alone so she must be a top hero, it’s just a matter of figuring out which one,” Hawks shrugs. Before he can start pitching his ideas for discovering your identity, he is interrupted by Endeavor’s voice summoning the three men into his office. Shoto rolls his eyes and Tokoyami just shrugs, before all three of them stand and do as told.
Endeavor looks pissed. Hawks briefly wonders if he somehow found out about the stolen bottle or lock picking from the previous night but dismisses that thought. The press hadn’t caught wind of you and his private party in the pool so he sincerely doubts Endeavor did. Furthermore, as long as he wasn’t putting up bad headlines Endeavor generally didn’t care what Hawks did. Endeavor had faith in him and he so rarely made the news for anything particularly scandalous that he generally only got a slap on the wrist on the odd occasion he did have a slightly too public breakup. Finally, if this were about last night why were Shoto and Tokoyami called in? “So it turns out the emergency last night wasn’t an accident. It’s still unclear who’s responsible but the HPSC is classifying this as top priority since it looks like it was an attempt to wipe out all the top heroes while we were gathered in one place,” Endeavor explains. “Ok? Why do you look like All Might pissed in your cereal?” Shoto asks with a raised eyebrow. “Shoto!” Endeavor chastises. “What? Am I wrong? Why are you so pissed?” Shoto presses. Endeavor sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose as if Shoto is giving him a migraine. He probably is. “The reason I am… less than thrilled, is because the HPSC has requested we form a task force with the top three heroes from All Might’s agency in order to tackle the issue,” Endeavor admits. “Oh nice, it’s been a minute since I talked to Izuku or Bakugo,” Shoto shrugs. “Who’s the third top in their agency now? Is it still Monoma?” Tokoyami asks. “Jesus you UA kids really are ridiculous,” Hawks comments. “Whatever Mr. Youngest Pro to break top 5 in history,” Shoto replies. “To answer your question Tokoyami,” Endeavor says pointedly as he gives Hawks and Shoto a look, “I’m not sure. It’s not Monoma anymore it’s some girl now. I believe her hero name is Artemis. She moved up after the annual announcement ceremony so her new ranking technically hasn’t been announced yet.” “I’m sure Monoma loved that,” Tokoyami chuckles. “In any case you all will find out who she is soon enough. We’re going to All Might’s office to meet with them in a minute,” Endeavor declares.
“So let me get this straight,” Bakugo says as you pretend to do paperwork, “you evacuated the building almost twenty minutes late, giving Deku a heart attack and almost necessitating a search team to go in, only to arrive dripping wet with no explanation, because you were having some of the best, most mind blowing sex of your life with a mystery man.” “Yep,” you reply shortly. “And you didn’t bother to fucking get his name or number?” He asks incredulously. “Yea sounds about right,” you say. “Why not (y/n)? Maybe he’s the love of your life? Maybe you two are destined to be together and that’s why you felt such a pull to him,” Midoriya suggests. It amazes you sometimes how someone so terrifying in battle can be such an optimistic puppy outside of it. “I don’t do relationships Izu, you know this,” you sigh, giving up on being productive. “You did with Monoma,” he points out. “Yea, because I had to for the sake of my career. And look how that turned out,” you argue. “You know it’s not the same thing dumbass,” Bakugo interjects. “Look, last night was fucking incredible, I’ll admit, but that’s it. Mystery man would want nothing to do with me the moment he realized how messy I actually am,” you sigh. “That’s not true,” Midoriya insists. “Why are we talking about me anyway when Bakugo finally fucked Red Riot?” you whine. “What? Kacchan is that true?” “Both of you shut the fuck up!”
Hawks will never get used to how deeply the Endeavor-All Might feud runs within the agencies, especially lower down the ladder. As he, Shoto, Tokoyami, and Endeavor enter the lobby the other heroes of the agency whisper amongst themselves. He doesn’t bother trying to parse out what they’re saying. He knows it will be the usual outlandish rumors about his boss and how horrid he, Tokoyami, and Shoto must be to stand the man at all. He’s not worried about Dynamight and Deku. As fiercely loyal as they are to All Might, he also knows they went to school with Tokoyami and Shoto, which makes them immune to the ridiculous rumors. The mysterious third top hero he’s more curious about. If you only just got promoted that means you’d been amongst the gossiping lower ranked heroes for much of your career and may be more inclined to believe them. He only hopes you’ll at least be professional enough not to let it interfere with work. The four of them take the elevator to the top floor and step out into the main office space there as Endeavor leads the way to All Might’s office. Hawks notices Shoto and Tokoyami throw a wave to someone so he turns to see who. He notices Bakugo and Midoriya first but as his eyes slide to see who the third person with them is he stops in his tracks. There you are: his mystery girl. He’d been worried he’d never see you again and yet there you are. As if sensing his eyes on you, you turn only to make eye contact with him. Your eyes go wide as you seem to recognize him back. He tries to think of something, anything, to say or do but before he can Shoto notices him lagging behind and with a roll of his eyes drags him into All Might’s office behind the rest of the Endeavor squad.
“What the fuck,” you say still in shock. Bakugo and Midoriya both turn to look at you confused. “What is it (y/n) are you ok?” Midoriya asks concerned. “Oh my god, that’s him. That’s fucking mystery man,” you tell them. “HAWKS is your mystery man?” Midoriya asks shocked. “No wonder you didn’t walk out with him. Imagine if the press found out you hooked up with someone from Endeavor’s agency the same day you ended your engagement with someone from your own,” Bakugo notes. “In my defense I didn’t know he’s in Endeavor’s agency,” you groan. “Didn’t know? Everyone knows Hawks is Endeavor’s right hand man. Dude is insanely loyal,” Midoriya comments. “I didn’t know he was Hawks!” you defend. “What the fuck other pro hero has giant ass red wings?” Bakugo asks you incredulously. “I’ve never fucking seen Hawks before so shoot me!” you defend. “How is that possible? What about during the hero ranking broadcasts, he’s been number two for years now,” Midoriya points out. “I don’t watch those. Who gives a fuck what ranking heroes are as long as they’re doing their jobs,” you comment. “Ok, what about last year? You physically went to the event with Monoma to support him,” Midoriya points out. “Oh I was completely blacked out, I don’t remember anything from that,” you shrug. Midoriya looks horrified and Bakugo mildly impressed. “What? You know he was always at his worst during events like that, I wasn’t going to go through that sober,” you defend yourself. “We need to have a serious talk later about your alcoholism,” Midoriya tells you. “Ah but I’m a fully functioning alcoholic who doesn’t drink on the job so it’s sexy.” “I- That’s-,” Midoriya stutters but before he can cobble together a sentence All Might is calling the three of you into his office. “We’re finishing this conversation later,” Midoriya warns you. “No, we’re not,” you singsong as the three of you go to join the others.
“I know you guys are familiar with Dynamight and Deku but this is Artemis. I’m sure you’ll all get along just fine,” All Might says by way of introduction. “I’m Shoto,” a man with half-white, half-red hair tells you, extending a hand. “Oh shit you’re icy hot,” you blurt out as you shake his hand. You can hear Bakugo snicker beside you as All Might gives you a look. “I mean, uh, I’ve heard a lot about you from Midoriya and Bakugo. Nice to meet you,” you recover sheepishly. “It’s quite alright. I’ve missed Bakugo’s nicknames somewhat,” Todoroki smirks. “Shut it Todoroki,” your friend replies with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t even want to know what Bakugo calls me but Tokoyami should work just fine,” a man with a bird head introduces himself. “Nice to meet you Tokoyami,” you grin as you shake his hand too.
As you finally turn to Hawks you think you could combust on the spot. Your gaze meets his and it’s just as electric as it was that first time. Your heart is pounding out of your chest and you have no idea how you’re expected to be professional with him when not even half an hour ago you were telling your friends all about how good his dick was, thinking you’d never see him again. “Name’s Hawks. It’s nice to meet you Artemis,” he grins as he extends a hand out to you. Damn him for being so cool and composed right now. “Likewise,” you reply, trying desperately not to let your panic show on your face as you shake hands with him. You almost don’t want to let back go but you yell at your brain to release him and remind yourself that you will not be pursuing anything with the admittedly charming man in front of you. “You know,” Shoto suddenly pipes up, “it would probably be a good idea for all of us to get to know each other since we will need to work together for who knows how long to get this matter settled.” Tokoyami quickly clues in to the plan. “Oh yea that’s a great point. It’s been a long time since we caught up with Bakugo and Midoriya and I can’t wait to get to know you a little better Artemis,” he chimes in. Oblivious but loving the idea all the same, Midoriya is quick to agree as well. Before you know it you’re being ushered into the back of a taxi, sandwiched between your two closest friends on the way to Shoto’s house for “task-force bonding” or whatever Midoriya had decided to call it.
Meanwhile, Hawks, Tokoyami, and Shoto pile into their own ride, after not-so-gently reminding Hawks that not all of them could fly so easily as him. “So much for your mystery girl. If you eye-fucked Artemis any harder All Might and Endeavor may have actually clued in. You’re welcome for suggesting this by the way,” Shoto says. “No, no you don’t understand Artemis is mystery girl,” Hawks explains, shaking his head in disbelief. “Are you serious?” Tokoyami asks. Hawks can only nod enthusiastically. “You owe me cold soba for a month for setting this up then,” Shoto replies easily. “Deal. Holy shit, ok, operation convince Artemis to date me is a go,” Hawks says. “That’s a horrible idea,” Tokoyami points out, “if this goes sideways you still have to work with her for God knows how long.” “Shhh, let him have his fun. If nothing else it will be entertaining to watch,” Shoto says. “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence. Just watch, it’ll be easy,” Hawks assures them.
Spoiler alert: it was not easy.
You avoided being alone with him for as long as you could. An impressive feat really, considering Midoriya seemed to be the only person in attendance not determined to get you to have a one-on-one conversation with the man. This meant you stuck pretty closely to Midoriya’s side, but, unfortunately, Midoriya had been serious about being concerned by your drinking habits, so sticking close to him meant staying far more sober than you would like to be to deal with your possible feelings for Hawks. Even with Midoriya as a shield from alone time Hawks had managed to get your real name, favorite movie, and favorite song out of you. That’s already too much information for a previous hook up to have. Eventually you decide you’re definitely going to need alcohol to get through this night so you sneak into the kitchen when no one is looking in search of booze. You’re rummaging through the cabinets when Hawks finally manages to track you down. “You won’t find anything in here. Shoto keeps most of his alcohol downstairs,” Hawks says, startling you. You clear your throat and quickly close the cabinet door you’d opened. “That obvious?” you ask sheepishly. “You’ve looked like you could use a drink since we got here. C’mon, I’ll show you,” Hawks says before turning around and heading down a hallway leading away from the others. You debate for a moment but in the end that mysterious magnetism binding you and Hawks together has your feet carrying you down the hallway after him.
He leads you to the basement where there’s an entire bar as well as a cozy living room. “Grab a seat and I’ll bring something over,” Hawks says gesturing to the couch as he moves to the bar. You take a seat and have to resist the urge to fidget as your nerves take over. You keep thinking about how much of a bad idea this is but your traitorous heart keeps you in place. Hawks pulls down a decanter of whiskey and pours both of you a glass. He carries both glasses over, with one of his feathers placing the decanter on the coffee table nearby, but as you reach to grab one he pulls it out of reach. “Ah, ah, ah. First, why don’t you tell me why you’re avoiding me,” he says. “Who says I’m avoiding you?” You ask. “Don’t insult my intelligence,” he replies immediately. “Fair enough,” you sigh, “look it’s not anything you did but last night was a one time thing. As incredible as it was, there can’t be a repeat.” “That felt like a one time thing to you?” he asks although he does finally relent and give you your glass as he takes a seat beside you. “Yep,” you lie before taking a large sip of your drink. “Liar. I know you felt what I did. That was something more. Something incredible,” he insists getting just a bit closer to you. Your heart races at his proximity but you try to stay on task. “Look I know you’re dying to get to know me, but as soon as you do you’ll wish that you never did,” you insist. “I seriously doubt that,” he replies with a shrug. “I’m serious! I’m practically an alcoholic, when I’m not working I party a lot just to get my brain to shut up, and I’m such a mess I was going to marry someone just to try and save myself from tabloid headlines and in doing so save my career,” you ramble on. “You’re overthinking this,” he tells you as he finally gets close enough that your thighs are brushing and he brings one hand up to cup your check. “Everywhere I go since I got promoted I’ve got a million different people all wanting to know me and yet I’m still alone. What makes you any different?” you ask, your eyes searching his for something even you aren’t sure of. “I’ve felt the same exact thing since I was 18,” he confesses. “I know you want to slip under my armor Hawks but I can’t,” you finally admit and it’s desperate because your resolve is starting to waver as he leans in closer to you. “Keigo.” “What?” “You want proof this is different? There it is. You’re now one of the only people in the entire world that knows that name. If I can trust you with that, surely you can trust me,” he tells you. You’re speechless. Absolutely speechless. You swore you wouldn’t get into a relationship but your heart is running rampant in your chest. “Just one chance Love. I’m not asking you to love me yet.” “Yet?” “Yet. For now I’m just asking for a chance. Ok?” “Ok Keigo.”
When he finally closes the distance between you two to press his lips to yours it’s like getting your first taste of oxygen after suffocating. It’s a sweeter kiss this time, lacking the urgency from the previous night. It’s like he knows beneath everything your heart is still kind of delicate. His hands move to your waist as he gently pushes you back so you’re laying down on the couch, him following you down until he’s on top of you, his legs straddling your own. There are probably a million reasons you shouldn’t be doing this but you can’t recall a single one as one of his hands slips beneath the hem of your shirt. All the thoughts you had of pushing him away earlier in the night abandon you in favor of their polar opposite. Now you cannot possibly get him close enough. Before long he deftly slides a hand down your pants and into your panties. “Fuck, you’re already so wet for me,” he groans. “Of course, I am, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since last night,” you reply and you’re shocked by your honesty. “Me too, baby. Me too,” Hawks pants as he slips one of his fingers inside of you. You gasp at the sensation as his finger drags along your inner wall, almost immediately finding that one spot that has you damn near seeing stars. You’re eager to return the favor so as he inserts a second and third finger you reach one of your hands down his pants to grasp hold of his hard and leaking erection. Your thumb swipes over the head to collect some of the precum gathering there before you begin working his shaft, sliding your hand up and down along it in time with the way his fingers move inside of you. You never thought something so simple could feel so incredible. The two of you move in tandem, your hips starting to buck into each thrust of his fingers and him fucking into your hand like he could never get enough. The two of you haven’t even bothered to remove your clothes, just loosened things enough to gain the access you need. His thumb begins to press circles to your clit and shortly thereafter the two of you finally reach climax together, his seed spilling on your hand and shirt as you cum around his fingers. Even as the two of you are coming down, he presses kisses to your lips, your neck, your cheek, and just about anywhere else he can reach.
“I’m gonna need a new shirt,” you finally huff out as you slowly start to collect yourself, wiping your hand off on your shirt since it’s ruined already anyway. Keigo laughs and you have to admit it’s one of the most beautiful sights you’ve ever seen. “You can borrow my over shirt. I guess it’s a good thing I wore layers,” he laughs as he shifts to give you space to straighten out your jeans and remove your now soiled shirt. He takes off the plaid shirt he’d been wearing and hands it to you, leaving him in just a black tee. You put on the borrowed shirt and button it up as he too straightens himself out so it’s at least a little less obvious what the two of you have been getting up two. As you finish adjusting your clothing Keigo leans in to kiss you one more time, before whispering against your lips “You won’t regret this. I promise.”
For some reason you’re inclined to believe him.
Author’s Note: This is probably obvious but I’m gonna say it anyway READER’S RELIANCE ON ALCOHOL IS VERY UNHEALTHY. Midoriya is right to be concerned. On a more fun note, if any of you are curious yes the others realized that Hawks and (y/n) were suspiciously absent, yes they knew even before the two of them came back upstairs what they’d been up to. Bakugo, Todoroki, and Tokoyami even placed bets on how long it would take for it to happen Todoroki won
Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh
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laketaj24 · 5 years ago
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The Rules IV: Triggered
Author’s Note: Thank you all soo much for your input!!! It helped me out more than you know! This was fun as hell to write and I hope you’re down for a ride! It’s about to go down. There are two songs that really hit the nail on the head for this part, they are linked below! Happy Reading my people!
Pairing: CEO!Henry Cavill X Reader
Warning: Angst. SMUT. DRAMA.
Want to catch up! Click HERE
Song Inspirations: Jhene Aiko: Triggered (First Part) Jhene Aiko: P*SSY Fairy
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If your heart slowed anymore, you’d collapse. But it wasn’t just the lethargic beat of your heart that slowed down. The kiss. The fucking kiss was being replayed in your head over and over, the way she cupped him, the way his lips touched hers and he deepened it. You feel the bile rise at the helm of your throat and you step back.
“Excuse me.” You whispered to a bewildered Alex, “I need to leave.”
He noticed. You could tell by the way he looked back to Henry and then you. His tall frame went from relaxed to apathetic. “Is it him?” He gave a wave in Henry’s direction and then stepped closer to you. “Y/N?”
“I can’t talk about this right now.” You attempted to push your way through the crowd and caught an opening into the gala hall. Alex was on your feet, his long strides made it easy for him to catch you. “Hey, I can’t talk about it right now.”
Your mind raced, he took a month away from you, was it because the entire time he had her? Were you some fucking mistress, side-chick, side bitch… Homewrecker? Inwardly you taunted yourself with the unceasing line of insults to yourself. Fuck! Fuck.
“Look.” Alex cleared his throat and stepped closer to you. His presence kept you from bolting into the nearest room and destroying everything in it. You were grateful for that, maybe. “He is not worth you not enjoying this night. Do you know how beautiful you are right now? Every eye in the building was with you when we arrived. Make him mad, but don’t let him win. He did nothing to deserve a win apparently.”
The pep talk worked and more and more you were starting to understand why Alex was a friend you didn't want to lose regardless of what happened. The first dance is casual, you fight tears watching the woman touch his hand, laid her hand on his chest and laugh like he was a comedian. He wasn't that damn funny. You stay for an hour, it was required to stay an hour, you have done only what was expected of you and nothing more. Alex took you home, the car ride is silent besides the occasional murmur of a curse word under your breath.
Home is what you craved more than anything, once the door was closed and Alex's driver left you released a scream that scared you, followed by a sob as you felt your heart literally break. What a fucking feeling? Grief for someone who didn't deserve it. You didn't drink to solve your problems, so alcohol was a no. Sleep was the obvious answer.  The dress felt like it burned your skin, you were certain it didn't, but the fact that it came from him made it poison. He was poison, that you willingly chugged down like a vintage wine and now the repercussions had finally made their grand entrance. And fuck them.
Why were you looking them up, they were a known couple, known to everyone but you? You typed in his name and nothing but her appeared Billionaire Henry Cavill and Olivia Tate grace the Emmy's with their presence. Will this playboy finally settle down? Olivia Tate has HC's heart around her finger. You were sick again. You throw the phone on the couch and screenshot the picture of him kissing her. Is this the future Mrs. Cavill?
You changed clothes, slipping the crop top and leggings on. You knew it wasn't the end of the night. And you were right, sleep does not come. He sends you seven messages, each of which you stared at trying to formulate a response, but they didn't merit one, until the last one.
Henry: I've been looking for you for an hour. Where are you?
Henry: You left without a word? Are you mad or something?
Henry: A response would be nice.
Henry: Y/N
Henry: Y/N. I'll find you later.
Henry: Be there in ten.
Y/N: Drive safe. Are you bringing the wife with you?
You hit send of the picture you'd saved.
Henry: Wow.
The wait for him to arrive only infuriates you more, your mother had always said your temper was like a wildfire, once it sparked it would consume everything to the ground. You knew she was right; Henry even knew your temper needed to be managed, but no one fucking managed you. This included Henry. He didn't knock. He never did really, he entered with his perfectly tailored suit and an eye roll. And the lamp crashed behind him. He ducks, but his face is shocked.
"What the fuck was that?" he hissed.
"My fucking two-hundred-dollar lamp." You picked up the shoes and hurled them across the room next and he ducked as if he knew they were coming and charged towards you. You moved from his grasp. "You have been with her for a year!" It roared out of you and then the tears followed. "Why did you even come over here? Did you think I would be okay with it? Do you think I want to be your whore? Come when you say, fuck when you say and then you go home to her. Don't touch me!!"
"You're not going to let me explain, are you?"
"Oh, for fuck's sake! Explain Henry, tell me what lie did you conjure up, while headed here. She's just a friend. I wasn't with her." you shake your head and Henry folds his arms across his chest. "Is she the reason you wouldn't let me kiss you?"
"Are you finishing acting like-."
"Say it!" You cut him off and step closer to him. You wanted to hit something, but his face was too pretty for that shit, and despite your anger, your mother raised you better than that, "Like what Henry? Get out."
"Y/N."
"I said get the fuck out!"
His jaw clenched and he pushed his hands through his thick mane of brown curls, ending the polished look he had earlier. "I'll call you later."
"Oh, no the fuck you won't." You opened the door to Alex standing there with his eyes on Henry. Why was he back? "He was just leaving." You explained to Alex. "Bye."
Alex stepped aside and held up the brown bag, you could smell the Chinese and noticed the wine bottle. "We didn't get to eat." He explained. The smug grin on his face sealed the night, he was a good guy.
You smiled and watched Henry stare at him before looking back at you. He shook his head, "Goodnight."
"Fuck you." You whispered.
In the past hearing, people say they were numb sounded foolish, of course, they felt. A human cannot simply shut it all off, but you were wrong. So wrong, it was easier to go numb than to feel. It started with work, your time invested in the company allotted you vacation three fucking weeks, paid and free.
The first week you spent with Alex, not fucking his brains out like a part of you wanted to but being a friend. He allowed you to talk, you told him everything and he listened with no judgment and that made it easier. Tia was around too, she spent the night with you when she could, in between hair appointments and makeup slots. Her career was changing fast, you were happy for her even if you barely showed it at times.
The second week you shut them both out. You told them you were out of town, but you were in your apartment with food and tear-soaked pillows. His phone calls had stopped, but you feared it was only because you changed the number. Work could contact you via email if they needed to, but no one even called you during the first two weeks. The marketing strategy you left would do well, you knew it. And besides your certainty in your program, you didn’t care what Cavill Industries did at the moment.
The third week, everything went numb, there were no more tears to cry. Every inkling of him that existed was gone, including the $6000 dollar dress. You burned it and at that final act, the night was gone from your mind. He’d broken the rules. You’d both set them and when he kissed her, he disqualified himself.
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The first day back to work your anxiety had you in its grip. Every phone call and opening of your door you dreaded. But he didn’t come. He wasn’t even in the building, according to your boss and that eased everything. You could work with him not being anywhere near you, and that made you apply to the other firms that had once been interested in you. You got two calls immediately. Matheus Corporate wanted to hire you without an interview and after the offer they sent, you were taking it. You typed out your resignation letter and turned it into HR. It was the right choice.
It was a month before you saw him again, and the Cavill you saw briefly in the lobby looked nothing like the one you had grown accustomed to. His hair was wild, and he had a beard, an actual beard. His slate-blue eyes were tired as were his movements. Just seeing him triggered you, the horrid memories of that night flooded your head and the pain resurfaced. Being numb would not be possible around him. You knew it. You hid in the stairwell like an idiot and avoided him. Nine more days of work here and you would be clear.
“Look, the way I see it, we are friends now.” Alex kicked his feet up on your desk and looked to you for affirmation.
You gave it to him nodding your head and chugging down your third bottle of water. “Yes, we’re friends. So, when I call you up at midnight and you’re with your little girlfriend cuddling and things you still have to make an appearance.”
“Girlfriend?” He scoffed.
“You heard me.” You pointed at him.
“I’m hoping one day the little girlfriend, I am cuddling will be you.” He smiled. “There is no rush and no expectation for it. But I didn’t want you to leave this place, oblivious to the fact that I really like you.”
Your heart warmed and you smiled. “Nine days to go and your boldness is out the bag.”
He shrugged. “Did I get brownie points?”
“A whole cake.” You said. You were back to work an hour later, singing under your breath when the door opened.
“I told him to wait outside.” Your assistant said, trying to beat Henry in the office. She turned to you. “Ms. YLN, Mr. Cavill is here to see you.” But he was already in front of your desk.
“Get out.” He said to her.
“Whatever you have to say to me, she can hear.” For some reason, you knew if the door closed you would succumb to him, “Speak.”
“You are not leaving.” His voice was not composed, just wavering and near weak. “Y/N.”
“Gianna, you can go.” You exhaled. What the hell had happened to him? She left the room and the space that once seemed huge started to shrink. Henry walked towards you and you held your hand up when he reached your desk. “What?”
“You changed your number.”
“What did you expect?”
“For you to give me a chance to explain,” His eyes plead with yours for the opportunity. “Can I have that please?”
“You don’t owe me an explanation, I was never yours, right?”
“You’re still mine.” The slight possessiveness came back to his voice.  
It made you weak for a moment, your hitched breath took over the silence. “Hurry up, Henry.”
“She is my girlfriend.” He said.
The words punch at a wound you were certain was nearly healed. You hoped he was going to say that he left her, the pathetically infatuated part of you wanted him to say, she dumped him. But he just reaffirmed what you already knew. Olivia Tate was the official girlfriend of Henry Cavill. “Thanks?” You swallowed. “Why are you here?”
“I don’t want her to be, I want you.”
“You are making no sense and I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to throw things at you here. I just wanted to leave all this in the past. Go be with her.”
“Y/N.” He said your name as if he was fighting for breath. “There are some things you do not understand about me. Things I would rather not talk about, but I don’t want her.”
“Then leave her! Damn it.” You bit out. “You are a grown man. You can make decisions on your own. If you didn’t want her then end it. End it now.”
“I can’t talk here.”
“Where else are you gonna talk?” You laughed. “My place? Hell no.”
“Mine.” He shook his head. “I’ll send a car for you after work. Don’t make them work Y/N. Just come.” He looked at you. “Please.”
“Fine.”
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 You didn’t fight his orders on meeting him, curiosity reared its ugly head and you were gone. His home was at the edge of town, the driveway curved up a hill and lead to the glass estate. It was incredible. Had you been here on better circumstances, you would have enjoyed the view. You stepped out and the door opened. Henry had shed the suit for a black shirt and black sweats that hung at his waist somehow accenting his frame. Fuck. Were you even going to be strong enough to say no to this god? One last fuck? Just to say goodbye fuck, it wouldn’t be frowned upon.
You argued with yourself and walked into the home, the décor was much like his office dark brown woods with a modern sense. You stood in the foyer and looked at him. The closer to the door you were, the more likely you were to say no to him without hesitation.
“I can’t shut you out of my mind.” He confessed. He had shaved, but his hair was still tucked behind his ears, longer than normal.
“Just tell me.”
“I met Olivia in college.” He sighed. “We used to date off and on, but it was never more than sex. Never.”
“That’s all it is with us.” You interrupted. “Hence the reason I don’t need this talk.”
“Then why’d you come?” Henry stared. “I have been infatuated with you for months and when I finally got the opportunity to be with you, I jumped at it.”
“Don’t feed me bullshit.” You held your hand up.
“Who do you think hired you?”
“Why can’t you just leave her?” You asked.
“She knows things about me that can ruin me.” he stopped talking. “Liv is talented at getting the things she wants. If I leave her, she’ll spill it.”
“Oh, get the fuck out of here!” You laugh. “You expect me to believe this Lifetime movie shit? You got a girlfriend and you want me too. Admit it.”
“I don’t want her.” He shook his head. “I want you.”
“You can say it until you’re blue in the face. If you don’t show me, how in the fuck am I supposed to believe that this… isn’t just a way for you to get what you want.”
Henry sunk to his knees. “I’ll beg you.”
“Dogs beg.” You spat.
“Anything.” He rasped.
“Do you know how bad I hurt? I didn’t work for weeks. I didn’t care for weeks. We’ve been together a month. Do you think my behavior was normal? Do you think yours is normal? No. We are bad for one another and I just…”
How did he get up so fast? You moved back and he was on you, his steps heavy and determined. He caged you against the wall and then you realized, his face was wet with tears.
“You have to believe me.” He whispered and the fear clawed through him. “Please.”
There was an urge pushing you to leave this place, nothing good can come from him. But his face was pained, you’d never seen this part of him. You cupped his face affectionately and your lips graze his cheek. It feels as if he shutters and then you just do it. You hesitantly kiss him. Your lips touch his and the energy that passes through you ignites a groan.
“Please.” The plea is accompanied by him responding to the kiss, tenderly. He leaned into you, his body blanketing to you and taking whatever breath you thought you had left. But you were sure that he took your breath away without a kiss. His brow furrowed as he deepened it pushing your head against the door. He wrapped his arms around you, swaddling you in his muscles while somehow it wasn’t the muscles that you felt. For the first time, he was being himself with you. He allowed you to feel what you didn’t even know was there.
He pulled back from you and he moved as if he was dizzy. The breath he had stolen from you had made it's way back to you and you inhaled. There was more than a desire that flickered between the two of you.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
His eyes flashed with a little hope. “Same.” Henry didn’t wait for permission he just scooped you up from the floor and kissed you again, this time it hurt. The hurt is so fucking good.
“I want,” the words were caught in your throat. Was this right or were you spiraling? “I want you, here. Right here.” He lowered you both down on the steps so that you were straddling him, you didn’t care for his comfort. You wanted him to feel you. “You remember the rules?” You whispered. Your tongue licks his lips and then dives in and he’s taken back, gripping your ass that is winding on his dick. You can feel him through the sweats. “Hmm…”
“I could never forget.”
“Don’t cum unless I say.” You smiled before kissing him again. You bucked your hips on and his eyes widened the lust pushing through. “You hear me, sir?” Your voice was low and filled with lust. “I want to fuck you right here.” He grew harder, flinching against you. “I want you to moan my name when you cum…”
Henry’s hands were in your hair, pulling you back so he could see your eyes. “I’ll do whatever the fuck you want me to, just fuck me.” He begged.
“Did you miss me?”
“Always.” He groaned lowering his head to your breast. He sprung the from the blouse and ripped it in two. “Always.”
You wanted to believe him, but the lingering hurt from the past month. “If you lie to me again,” You unsheathed him from his sweats and stroked your hand down the length of his cock. You swiped the precum that oozed from the tip down and pumped again. “Missing me is all you’ll know how to do, sir.”
“Fuck,” He jumped in your hand and sucked air in through his teeth.
“Understand?”
“I-,” He moaned when you increased your speed. “Oh fuck.”
“Yeah,” You were so turned on by the way you were making him feel. You now understood why he wanted to be in control of everything in the bed. It was sexy as fuck to watch what you could do to someone. You could watch them unravel, put them back together and do it again.
Henry pushed the pen skirt up and easily ripped the panties. He tossed them behind you and his fingers were in you. Prodding and working, you fucking missed him, even though you shouldn’t have. “Y/N.” He moaned. “I’m almost there.” He panted.
You stopped stroking him and began to ride his fingers, lifting yourself from them and then back on until the next time Henry pushed his cock in. He was fighting every urge he had to allow you some control in this thing. He threw his head back when he was fully inside of you and stilled.
But you wanted to fuck him. You wanted to ride him slow and draw out every fucking moment you could with him. So, if you regretted being here in the morning, the walk of shame wouldn’t have too much shame. Your walls sealed around him and he gripped your hips trying to stop you from fucking him, but you continued. Your rhythm was wild, you used his shoulders like an anchor and smiled down at him. His face was red and misted with sweat. His curls were soaked, and he was mesmerized. Your tits bounced in front of him and your eyes were rolling. “Y/N.” He warned and you felt his cock grow harder and then he growled, shuddering in your breast as if he had waited forever to cum inside of you.
“Seems you broke a rule.” You laughed and continued to fuck him. He made sounds that only made you wetter for him and the man was part machine. He had to be as his cock grew back rigid and he was still shuttering from coming the time before.
Henry licked his fingers and slapped them onto your clit before he pulled you towards him. His fingers knew how to work your pussy. Moving in circles and then another slap before he started back again, and you were about to cum. You didn’t want to. You shook your head and Henry looked up at you, “I won’t last another time. I ca-,” Your pussy shook around his and your thighs locked down as the pleasure surged through your body. “Shit!” He yelled before slamming into you and spilling his cum again. “Y/N.” He rasped.
The floor wasn’t a bad place to lay for the time being. Henry was wrapped around your naked body and there was no need for cover. He kept you warm enough.
“Was she the reason you didn’t kiss me?”
He exhaled. “She,” he paused. “I never know when she will decide to come back into my life.” He admits. “And up until you, it was easier not kissing, that way when it ended… there were no emotions in it. It was just fucking. I can’t do that with you, okay? A single glance from you could make my heart stop, a kiss would have shattered me.” Henry admitted.
It was quiet for a while. Just deep breaths and kisses all down your body. “Let’s go to bed.” You said finally. “My boss would be mad as hell if I missed tomorrow.”
“I’m throwing you resignation away, and if you’re having problems out of Mike… I’ll fire his ass.” He stood up and reached his hand out to you. “Come on, the bed is the proper place to make sure you’re so tired work isn’t an option.”
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  His bed was comfortable, the sheets were so soft you were tempted to ask where he got them. You slept peacefully entangled in the muscled mass that is Henry. But it was not a complaint to make, being without him for so long made you grateful you could listen to him breathe and feel his heart against your back.
“Thank God.” The unfamiliar voice came from the bottom of the bed.
Your eyes narrowed as the bright sun made its way through the windows. The blonde hair was the first take away, it was Olivia. You scrambled from under Henry’s body. “Henry!” If she wanted a fight, you were ready to fight her, you’d just prefer to not be naked while doing it.
Henry groaned and once he caught sight of her he jolted up from the bed. “Olivia. You’re not supposed to be here.”
“Don’t be rude. I was just saying thank God.” Olivia leaned over his legs and looked at you. “I hated watching him mope around here. He looked like a puppy, sad because his bitch went away.”
“Bitch? I beg your pardon, Henry if you don’t get this woman.” Henry gave an admonished look to Olivia and gripped your hand. It didn’t comfort you. It just pissed you off. You snatched your hand away from him. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” One more foul word from her and you’d fight naked.
“Excuse my manners, darling. I’m Olivia and I am so glad you are here. It seems we have some rules to introduce.” She pushed up from the bed and left the room. “Chop, chop Henry, dear. Bring your bitch, I have a plane to catch.”
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brilliant-poses · 3 years ago
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Night of the Coyotes
Chapter 4 - The Shot Heard ‘round Blackwater
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Your heart was pounding in your chest as you all surrounded the camp. The only thing between the Van Der Linde gang and safety was a river to town. They’d be dumb to cross it, especially since you made sure to have some girls bring their lassos. Liu was stationed over at the other side of the river, staring down her scope. You saw the gang slowly begin to come out of their tents, guns in hand as they tried to appear intimidating.
“Madam.” Dutch spoke towards Vivian, using the nickname she gave to everyone. You glanced towards Vivian, who tensed at the sight of him.
“Van Der Linde.” She spat, obviously angry he even spoke her nickname. She adjusted Gypsy, seeing her getting a bit uncomfortable. Everyone stared at one another, the tense air becoming thicker by the moment.
“We can do this the easy way.” Vivian said as she pointed her gun towards him.
“But I know you won’t want that. You’re stubborn like that…” She hissed, which caused him to sneer lightly, his cigar drifting over to the side of his mouth. He lifted his ringed hand to remove it, exhaling smoke.
“You all must think you’re smart, but you’ve caged a beast. You know what happened the last time you did that.” He said, reminding Vivian of the massive loss of life she had years ago.
“You bastard—!” She hissed before hearing a shot ring out. Your heart stopped for a moment, trying to figure out who shot first. You glanced at Pride and saw that a bullet hole was lodged in her shoulder, causing her to fall off of Sunshine. After that, the bloodshed began. Bullets flew and everyone was beginning to move out towards the city. Dutch and his boys were running to get them away from camp while Vivian followed with those who could. Pride yelled in pain as you dragged her behind a tree, helping to shield her. Peppercorn was gone, spooked by the gunshots, so there was no exit. You hid and tried to stop the bleeding by using your bandana. Before you could do anything, she passed out from the pain.
“Hey… Hey! Wake up, Pride! Come on, Madam needs us!” You cried, trying to convince her to wake up and say something witty towards you. You feared the worst, but you continued to wrap her up. You were almost done before feeling something hit the back of your head. In your blurry vision, you could see Pride’s pale complexion and a man with blonde hair looming over you. After that, everything went black.
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You woke to the sound of hoofs hitting the ground and wheels slowly turning with them. You were rocking to a steady rhythm, until there was a jolt that knocked your head against the bottom of the wooden panels. Your blurry eyes opened, peering around to see your surroundings. You luckily saw Pride, bandaged and tied, which made you reach for her. You struggled a bit, feeling yourself bound. Glancing back, you could see the tips of your fingers and felt the rope tightly binding your hands together. You could hear someone talking, an older voice, mentioning to someone that bringing you two along would only upset Madam and cause her to look for you. That’s when you heard Van Der Linde.
“Don’t worry, Hosea. I have a plan with these two. They’re not like the other ones who chased us out of the city. Thanks to Micah, they’re nice and safe back there. We’ll get them to talk about their boss.” He said as Hosea sighed loudly. You managed to wiggle around and land on your back, though your hands protested by shooting a sharp pain through you. You hissed in pain, managing to move yourself to sit next to Pride. She looked pale and like she was in pain, but you couldn’t do anything about it. You were powerless to help the only person you really cared for. Your older sister had protected you so many times, but you couldn’t protect her. You exhaled through your nose and looked out the wagon. You could see the snow that had fallen onto the ground and the rocky formations. You knew you were a long ways from Blackwater. You couldn’t relax, especially knowing you were stuck with the Van Der Linde gang. They were probably going to kill you, that much was certain, but you didn’t expect them to let you freeze to death. You shivered lightly and looked towards Pride, seeing her lips were slowly turning blue. She was freezing. Her before you, that’s how you would start this.
“Hey!” You yelled, kicking your feet to make noise. You felt the wagon stop suddenly, causing you and Pride to hit the wood you leaned against. You heard grumbling and then the familiar blue-green eyes met with yours.
“What the hell are you doin’?” He hissed as you glared at him.
“Tryin’ to get your damn attention. My sister is freezing.” You said, watching him scoff. Arthur glanced towards Pride closer before he began to grumble again. He disappeared, which made you sigh lightly from defeat. They really were planning on freezing you and Pride. You expected the wagon to begin moving, but was surprised to hear footsteps approach once more.
“Here. Got y’all some blankets. We got no coats, so you’re gonna have to deal with this.” He said as he climbed in, wrapping the blankets around you and Pride. Though you knew Arthur Morgan to be a cold and horrid killer, he actually attempted to help you, and help you he did. You immediately felt better and you leaned closer to Pride, noticing him checking her wound.
“She’d be mad if she knew you were this close.” You mumbled, hearing a faint chuckle under his breath.
“Yeah, well… She really ain’t gonna be happy when she sees where she is. Now, I can’t stop again, so don’t be kickin’. If you need somethin’, just wait. We’re almost to camp.” He said and went to leave.
“Hey, Morgan!” You called, seeing him about to disappear. You saw him looked down and his shoulders slack as he looked back towards you.
“Thank you.” Your tone wasn’t antagonizing or anything, it was sincere. You want him to know just how thankful you were. He probably saved your sister’s life. He gave you a small smile and then disappeared once more. This time, the wagon began to move and you were jolted forward at the feeling. You looked towards Pride, who’s head had fallen towards yours, and propped your head on her shoulder.
“We’ll be ok, Pride…” You mumbled softly, tears finally filling your eyes. You were really far from home and you almost lost your sister. Your emotions were crashing.
“We got each other…”
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writingsbychlo · 4 years ago
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runaways | mafia!void
word count; 12,365
summary; mob-boss Stiles Stilinski owns the neighbourhood, and the city, and he knows it. but, someone new moves in across the street to his building, and flips his world upside down, with her own secrets to hide.
notes; oddly romantic for void, but still definitely a lot darker than normal stiles would be. 
warnings; violence, death, injury, gore, drug dealing, torture, murder, reference to abuse, reference to animal abuse.
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With a frantic breath, nails digging into his chest as he jumped awake, Stiles tried to focus on where he was. There was clammy sweat covering his palms, fists clenched tightly with marks from his nails on the skin, and his forehead was shining and wet too. He felt uneasy, crawling in his own skin as he adjusted in the uncomfortable chair, blinking himself back to consciousness.
He didn’t feel at all well-rested, or relaxed, but he only seemed more on edge. The flashes of your injury were playing like a loop in his mind, the sounds of your screams, the horrid images of your blood staining the wool in handprints and the pool of it you’d been lying in when he found you. It all felt like slow-motion, reliving the events in his mind.
In his nightmare, though, he’d been slower. Feeling like he was moving through tar as he’d tried to get to you, every second dragging out in a painfully long time that made every second feel like hours, like he’d never reach you in time to save you. As he settled down, his heart rate calmed, no longer threatening to beat so hard that it would burst right from his chest, and he lifted the hand closest to him in both of his own.
Smoothing his thumbs over the back of your skin, he let out a ragged cry. Shuffling the chair loser to your bedside, he gave a weak attempt at comforting himself, pressing your palm over his cheek in a way you had done so many times to him before. Your hand was limp this time, though, and cooler, and he hated that tears were lining his eyes.
This wasn’t him. This wasn’t how he acted or behaved, and he hated himself for it. Part of him hated that he’d ever let you in at all. Falling for the woman who had run away, seeking shade in his shadow that would hide you from the world, all the trouble it had caused him, but he didn’t regret even a second of it.
If there was one thing that Stiles was absolutely positive, it was that he loved you with everything he had. You’d stepped into his life, angering him at first as you moved into the building across the street, buying up property he wished to own. Quickly, though, you’d won him over. Every hello as you passed on the street, every sweet with a smile that had made something within him clench, every flirty comment and skim of your hand when you touched him that made him feel like he was on fire.
When he needed you most, you’d walked into his life and changed everything. You’d accepted him for who he was, a lifestyle you were no stranger to, but your innocence remained. Every blush and shy stutter he drew from you made him feel empowered, every time you’d squeal a little when he swept you off of your feet, and every shocked look you’d give him when he’d let his hand fall low rough to your ass in public.
Somehow, at a time he couldn't place, he’d let go of his ‘never sleep over’ rule. The morning when he’d wake up beside you, whoever’s side of the street it was that you stayed on, were the best mornings of all. The sleepy smiles you’d give him, the way you were just a little more clingy before your morning coffee. Your hands would smooth down his front, always waking up later than he did and finding him in the kitchen or working. Your arms wrapping around him from behind, a kiss placed between his bare shoulder blades, tracing his moles with soft lips until he let out the kind of breathy laugh he’d never let anyone else hear from him.
This was all wrong. Your hair didn’t flutter around you on the pillow like it did when you were at home. There was almost a frown on your face, wrinkles formed around it instead of the tranquil look you held when it was just the two of you. Your skin was colder, your hands never reached out lazily to find him when he sat close to you, and there were no giggles that told him you were awake when he leaned over to kiss your cheek.
The constant and droning beep of the heart machine was steady beside the bed. Stiles had one hand squeezing your own, the other lifting up to his mouth, and he chewed on the nail of his thumb as he looked over you. Letting out a ragged sigh, he stood from the chair again, unable to even keep still. Brushing stray hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear carefully, he let out a low sigh, hand trembling as he ran the backs of his fingers along your cheek.
The blip of the machine didn’t falter in the slightest, and he pulled the chair back up behind himself, collapsing down into the seat. He wasn’t sure how he got here, how he got in this state, but he was still covered in your dried blood, his clothes ruined and hair messy from having a hand constantly running through it.
“Baby, I know I said some things, but I need you to wake up and yell at me for them now, okay?” His voice trembled as he spoke, the sound of his own angry voice in his head making him wince. He could barely even remember now why he’d been so angry, because, in retrospect, it wasn’t all that big of a surprise. He’d done a background check on you, and nothing about the lifestyle you led had been normal. Long before he’d fallen in love with you, Stiles had realised that you were no stranger to a gang lifestyle. “Please, darling. I don’t care if you hate me, if you scream and yell, I don’t even care if you never want to see me again. I just need to see those pretty eyes again, and know that you’re gonna’ be alright.”
He blamed himself. Every second of it was like torment in his mind, like scars on his body that would never properly heal. The surprise of finding out just who you’d been on the run from, all that time ago when you’d originally sought freedom within his territory, and it had sent him into a full-blown rage. Red vision blacked out of his feelings, he’d said things he didn’t mean, and the idea of never getting to apologise to you now was eating him alive.
“I’ll make it up to you, baby, I promise.” He didn’t know how he was going to keep that promise, but he was determined to. He’d do whatever it took, he would protect you, or avenge you, or set you free somewhere that he knew you’d be safer than by his side, but no matter what, he knew that he would never let you get hurt like this again.
He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the door open, nor the sound of it clicking shut, and he jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder.
He gripped it at the wrist, spinning around with a scowl and bracing himself as he prepared for a fight, and Scott stood before him, wide eyes and a panicked look on his face. Lowering down the fist he had on the offensive, he released Scott, and his tanned best friend took a step closer, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder once again.
“I’m sorry, Stiles.”
“S’ not your fault.” He whispered, voice hoarse from his screaming and shouting the night before, demanding the best doctors and medical care for you as he watched you be rushed away into surgery, hands still smeared with blood.
“It is. It was my ID that was used to get in, if I had jus-”
“Dude, how were you supposed to know? I’m the one that let a fucking traitor into the building, into our lives. If it’s on anyone, it’s on me.” His friend fixed him with a pitiful look, the pair falling into silence, and he made his way across the room, pouring himself a cup of freshly filtered water, a smirk of vague satisfaction flicked at his lips as he looked around the private room that you had been set up in. Clearly, his idle threats and aggressive shouting in the waiting room had achieved something.
He wandered back across the room, collapsing into his seat and sipping the water, his foot tapping agitatedly against the floor, twice as fast as the rhythmic beating of the heart monitor beside your bed. He took up a glare at the machine once again, the same glare he’d had all night. It wasn’t long before the cup was empty, and he shook his head, fingers tightening around the plastic cup as it crumpled and cracked in his hand.
He did the best he could to fend off a yawn, but it wasn’t working, the exhaustion of having been up all night watching over you was finally catching up to him, and he shook himself down, blinking rapidly as he did his best to stay awake.
“You should go home.”
“And leave her here alone?” Stiles scoffed at his best friend, rolling his eyes at the suggestion and the tanned boy chose to ignore the snappy attitude of his best friend. “Yeah, because that went so well the last time.” He laughed emptily, but tears were lining his eyes, the tapping of his foot only getting faster, and he reached for your hand again. Your fingertips were a little cold, the lack of movement meaning your circulation had reduced, and he folded your fingers under to be able to press a timid kiss to your knuckles.
“She won’t be alone, I’ll stay. You should go home and shower, you look like you committed a murder.” The two shared a small chuckle at the irony, and sat up to pull the shirt away from himself, the pale blue material ruined with deep stains of your blood. He’d washed them since, but there was still blood up on his forearms, and in all honesty, he was utterly exhausted. “If she wakes up, I’ll call you. Go and get some rest, and I’ll stay and watch over. Nothing will happen to her.”
“Everything already did happen, Scott.”
“Nothing else will happen to her.” Scott fixed him with a stern glare, and Stiles caved, getting up from the seat and rubbing a hand over his face. Picking up Scott’s discarded jacket, he pulled it over his shoulders, zipping it up securely around his own body.
“I’m taking this.”
His friend merely waved him off, and he made his way down to the front desk after a lingering look at you over his shoulder, making sure that everything had been taken care of. He signed his name at the bottom of the statements, getting a copy of all of his receipts, before fishing for his keys in his back pocket. It was with a deep sigh that he realised he hadn't driven here, he’d gotten in the ambulance with you when the paramedics had arrived. He was about three seconds away from breaking down, when he caught sight of a familiar head of curly hair and a ridiculous scarf, despite the heat.
“Need a ride?”
Stiles shook his head fondly, wandering over to his friend and watching as he shifted from leaning on the car to the driver’s seat, and Stiles fastened himself into the passenger seat, his head lolling onto the comfortable leather. The drive felt shorter than it had been last night, but perhaps that was because every second that Stiles had watched on helplessly, it had felt like an hour, and so he didn’t have any real grasp on how long the trip had been.
He didn’t normally estimate the trip to the hospital. When he hurt someone, they were always dead before paramedics even arrived, just how he wanted it. This time, though, he’d been grateful that hadn't been the case.
When the car finally came to a stop, Stiles peered up at the tall building he owned, swallowing thickly and purposefully avoiding looking at your own across the street, but dragging himself from the car on tired limbs instead. Making their way inside, Isaac pressed the button for both his floor and Stiles’. The numbers clicked up, Stiles’ hand gripping the edge of the elevator to steady himself, and wishing his friend well as he stepped out on his floor. He yawned again, the stress of keeping his eyes open and his body upright was beginning to show, but his mind was still wired.
He needed coffee.
He needed food.
He needed a hot shower.
He needed you.
It was a painful reminder when he stepped into his apartment of just what had happened. His laptop was still open, blinking with the low-power warning and he trudged over to it, toeing off the pair of old trainers he’d pulled on in the race to find you after watching the shot go off. He could still see the flash in his mind, still hear your cries of pain each time he pressed down on the wound, could still feel the weak press of your hand over his as you tried to hold onto your consciousness.
Closing the laptop lid and plugging it in to charge, his phone following as it had long since run out of battery. It had died somewhere around 3am, when he’d been instructing Kira and Allison onto a manhunt for Malia and Theo, to track them down, Derek going with them as Lydia stayed behind.
The redhead had spent the entire night instructing a team to clean up your apartment. She’d sent him pictures to confirm once the blood was scrubbed from the floors, the sheets on the bed swapped out, and the broken door taken down from its hinges. Placing an espresso mug under the spout of the sleek coffee machine he had never before been so grateful for, the familiar clicking of heels on the hardwood floors of the penthouse suite he called home echoed out.
“Lydia?”
“The one and only.” She sighed, appearing around the wall with a dazzling grin, looking far better after an entire night of being awake than he did, and he cocked a brow at her. Pushing the green ‘go’ button on the machine as he set it off, the dull churning sound of beans and the drip of string coffee started up. “Her place is clean, the door is totalled, a real joiner or carpenter will have to fix that.”
“Not to be ungrateful, because I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done tonight, but why are you here?”
He couldn't hide the slightly snippy tone to his voice, and the woman before him cocked a brow, but smirked knowingly at him anyway as she sauntered on past to take her coat from the hook she had put them on. He felt almost stupid for not noticing it when he’d stumbled through the door. “I was unpacking, of course.”
“Unpacking what, exactly?”
She looked at him like he was some kind of idiot, pulling her perfect curls loose from under the collar as she pulled on her coat, tying the belt around her waist a second later. “Some of your girl’s belongings. I assumed you’d want her within your sights when she was discharged, I wasn’t thinking you’d want her going home to a place with no front door and the fresh memories of almost being murdered in her sleep?”
He winced at how bluntly she spoke of the accident, but nodded his head. He hadn't even thought about that, he was so preoccupied with just making sure you were alive that he hadn't even processed what would happen after you got out. She teetered over to him on very tall heels, leaning up enough to press a friendly kiss to his cheek, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders loosely, pressing a kiss to her temple in return as he hugged her. “You’re an angel, Lydia. Thank you.”
“Hey, what can I say? Just make sure I get a decent payout on our next job.” She winked at him cheekily, and he rolled his eyes, knowing she was already up in the highest figures he gave out. She was soon leaving, pulling her phone from her pocket and immediately texting, never looking up as she stepped into the elevator and disappeared. The beep from the little device beside him broke his reverie from staring at the closed silver doors, and he picked up the little porcelain mug. Sipping the bitter liquid within and cringing at the heat, he choked it all down in a single mouthful, nonetheless.
A sound of satisfaction left him, and he trudged through to his bedroom, his lips flicking up at the sight of two pairs of pyjamas sitting out on his bed, rather than only his own. Little things that didn't belong to him but matched surprisingly well with his decor were scattered around.
A hairbrush on his dresser, makeup brushes and a makeup bag, a suitcase tucked away in the corner of the room from where Lydia had brought over your belongings, and he stripped himself down, dumping his clothes in the laundry hamper and wandering through to the bathroom.
The hot water had never felt so relieving, and he let out a deep sigh, tipping his head down and bracing himself with an arm against the wall, watching as bloodied water ran away into the drain. He reached around blindly for the soap and sponge, scrubbing at his skin until it was red, raw and stinging, but clean.
Blood had never bothered him before, especially not in his lifestyle, but this felt different. It was your blood staining his skin. It didn’t bother him when it was someone else’s life in his hands, when he got to make the decision on whether they lived or died, but he didn’t get to choose with you. With you, he had been powerless. Every title, every kill, every notch on his belt and dollar in his bank hadn't mattered, because when you’d been dying in his arms, even with all of his power, he’d not been able to do a single thing to help you. To save you.
His fist swung back, an angry cry leaving him as he powered his hand at the tile before him, his knuckles letting out a sick crack and his skin tearing as he punched at the wall. Despite the pain, he did it again and again, until blood was dripping along his wrist and the only thing he could picture would be your face as you looked at him, telling him to stop before offering to patch him up.
His hands were already battered and bruised, this time yesterday he’d been spattering his crisp white shirt with the blood of a dealer who hadn't yet paid up, a life he had control over, and had ended without remorse. He’d been in a bad mood, having lost a lot of money as well as a reputable dealer when. His hands had been stinging, head pounding from where the boy had tried to make a run for it after hitting him across the back of the head, and he blamed himself for everything that had happened afterwards.
The cuts on his hand made him hiss from pain when hot water and the suds of shampoo washed through them, but he deserved that, it was his fault for letting his temper get out of control. He closed his eyes, head tipping up toward where the spray of water was coming from, letting the water wash over his body and soothing the tension he held.
It melted away, skin flaring at the heat and turning bright red, the steam getting thicker and thicker in the room until it was hard to even breathe, and he finally stepped out from the water. He was swaying, the warm water having cleared his mind, and now that his thoughts were no longer rattling his brain, tiredness was beginning to crash in. Ruffling his hair with a fluffy towel, he merely let it fall away to the floor, tugging a pair of boxers onto his legs and collapsing face-first into his pillow as soon as his knees met the edge of his bed.
Your pyjamas were sitting out on the pillow beside him, his fingers reaching out, pads running over the soft and silky material of the pale purple night set you wore. His eyes were closing, and instead of letting the guilt sweep away at him once more, he chose instead to let his mind drift, to imagine you were laying by his side instead. He hugged the pillow with your sleepwear on closer to his chest, nose dipping to bury in the silk top, and the smell of you comforted him more than anything else had yet.
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Stiles awoke with a jerky startle, his back aching from the hospital seat he was sitting in, and he rubbed his eyes with a groan. It was nothing new. That first night of good sleep he had gained sleeping beside the smell of you had quickly passed. Now, that fading smell of flowers and spices had become haunting, reminding him every night through painful nights of fitful and paralysing nightmares of his failures. 
The week you’d been in the hospital had been much the same. Sleeping by your bedside in the hospital when he’d visit, only ever getting the chance to relax when he could rest his head beside your hand on the itchy blankets of the hospital bed.
On the second night alone is when his nightmares started. That night, Stiles saw your first date. He could taste the ice cream on his tongue, the flavour you’d chosen for him when you’d let him come with you to see one of the small businesses you used as a cover, he could still feel the chill of the brain freeze he’d gotten that day. It started out as it truly had, his hand wrapped in yours, slightly pink cheeks when you introduced him to the older woman behind the counter as ‘the man trying to win your heart’, and the feel of wrinkled leather on the booth you both sat in. Except, in this version of his dream, it didn’t end with kisses that tasted of cherry sorbet and vanilla ice cream. This time, it ended with your eyes lifeless as he tried to save your life, windows shattered and glass in your sternum from a robbery gone wrong that had never happened. 
He woke up clutching his shoulder that time, feeling along his skin for the ghosts of wounds that were never real. 
The third night he was alone, he saw a twisted ending to the first time you’d stayed at his place, and on the fourth night, he was shaking when he forced himself out of his dreams, a conjuring of your death once again in his mind, another date gone wrong, another treasured memory ruined. Some dreams came to repeat themselves as the days plodded on, and some days just brought the torture of reliving the nightmares that made him wake up in tears. 
Last night, he dreamt of your first meeting. It was comforting at first, and he eased himself through a morning shower to wash away his tears and sweat by thinking of the real events. In his nightmare, it had ended by his own hand, your sweet face flashing behind his eyes, his mind screaming at himself as he watched a vision of himself take your life. He woke up in a shock of screaming cries, reaching out to your side of the bed only to remember that he was alone. Tears on his face, voice hoarse, and the chilling aftershock of what his mind had conjured up with his guilt left him trembling and unsteady. 
He’d been too scared by that vision to even try going back to sleep. Rather, he’d showered down, ice-cold water stinging as it beat down against his skin, waking him up enough to shake off the pain of it. He’d pulled on some clothes, his car keys and his phone being all he needed, working on autopilot as he had driven to the hospital. Stars were still in the sky, visiting hours were far from opening for the morning as the sun hadn't even risen, but he knew there was a nurse that was taking pity on him behind the desk. 
Or perhaps, it was fear? 
No matter what made her do it, she always opened up your room for him, guiding him through the halls on a path he knew well, until he could slump down by your side. His breakfast continued whatever he could fish out of the vending machines, spare change from his pockets or the card from his wallet. He was certain that at this point, they were refilling the machines just for him. 
The last decent meal he’d had was the night before your argument. Happy, full of life, a recipe you’d learned when you were young as you shared it with him. Now, it was just whatever he could fish out of his freezer to point in the microwave, when Scott, Isaac or even Derek had forced him to go home and rest, as if that was even an option. The only decent sleep he got was in naps, when he got home after driving the city for hours or busying himself with business, only to get a few hours of solace in his unconsciousness with a dead sleep that contained no dreams. 
It was during one of these times that he got the call from his best friend, your tenth day in hospital recovery that you woke back up. He’d been showering at the time, having just missed the call as he’d stepped under the water. Emerging from the spray thirty minutes later and finding a series of missed calls from the hospital, Stiles felt like his heart may actually have stopped in his chest with fear. 
It had taken only two rings for Scott to pick up, and Stiles was already pulling shoes onto his feet as he fished around for his car keys, insisting he was on his way back, when his friend told him to stay home.
“Dude, relax, she’s totally fine.”
“She was shot, Scott.” He couldn't help the bitter tone in his voice, his friend laughing down the line, shuffling as his voice faded for a second. He was talking to someone on the other end, and Stiles could make out the many different voices of nurses, doctors and patients around him. There was the scratching of a pen on paper, and a gentle ‘thank you’ from his friend, and Stiles was waiting anxiously for the whole time. “Scott, what is going on? I’m freaking the fuck out over here. You know what, I’m coming to the hospital-”
“She woke up. About forty-five minutes ago.”
“She did? Holy shit.” He let out a breathless chuckle, wiping a hand over his face as his shoulders sagged, tension leaving his body like a sudden rush of bliss, just hearing that you were awake.
“Yeah. She’s good, she had some water, my mom’s checking her over, I just signed her discharge papers. I’m going to bring her home, alright? She’s a little bit groggy, and quite grumpy.” 
His friend was teasing you, and Stiles didn’t even have it in him to argue, instead, Stiles looked around, making a mental note of everything that he needed to tidy up and clean before you got here.
“We’ll be there in about half an hour, alright? Try to contain yourself between now and then.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yeah, I can sense your shaking with anticipation through the phone, buddy. See you soon.” 
He scowled as his friend hung up on him, but his hands were shaking, he couldn't deny that. Rather than thinking too hard about it, he chose to toe-off his unlaced shoes, placing them neatly on the rack and rubbing sweaty palms on the sides of his sweats, glancing around at the room.
That half an hour passed him by quicker than he would’ve liked. He had put away all the crap that was filling the room, tucking away every wire, and on a few occasions he’d almost felt like he was baby-proofing his apartment, but he wasn’t willing to let anything else hurt you. He’d moved everything from the highest and lowest shelves up to a middle level, easily reachable, and pushed the furniture slightly further apart to make sure you had plenty of room to move around.
Your pyjamas were laid out neatly on the bed, waiting for you for when you arrived, ready to change out of the dingy hospital gown you had been in for the last ten days since your accident. He’d laid out a skin sensitive, wound friendly soap and shampoo set on the edge of the bath, ones that he’d had to dig out from the back of the cabinet, assuming you’d want to soak, or at least have a shower.
He felt almost nauseous with worry when the elevator opened up, silence filling the room as Scott pushed the rented wheelchair along, a pair of crutches balanced across your lap and held loosely by your hand. Before he could drop to his knees to see you, Scott was holding a hand out, a lopsided smirk on his face as he shook his head.
“She fell asleep on the ride over here, she’s out cold.”
He laughed weakly, kneeling beside you quietly and brushing your hair back behind your ears, delicate breaths leaving you as your head tipped to the side. “She fell asleep? She was unconscious for ten days! Somehow, that seems completely on brand, though..” It was spoken fondly, one of his palms brushing gently over your hair as he smoothed it across the back of your head. 
“She was in some pain when she woke up. My mom gave her some pretty heavy painkillers, she got a bit loopy, and then crashed.” Stiles stood to his full height, nodding as he took in the information, before taking the crutches and standing them in the corner beside the coat hooks. A large paper bag of instructions and different medicines was handed over to him, and he glanced inside quickly at the various medications. “Different ones, for any discomfort she gets, some to fight off infections, all that. Mom wrote a list of instructions for you, so you can read those.”
“Thank you, Scott.” Scott shrugged, brushing off the gesture, but Stiles didn’t want that. “No, man, I mean it. Thank you. I would have gone insane without you there to boss me around.”
“Well, someone had to do it, since the normal owner of that position was out cold.” Scott teased, rubbing a hand over your shoulder as you slumped in the wheelchair, and Stiles glanced back to you fondly. “She should wake up in an hour or so, be ready, she may be moody still.” 
His best friend shot him a smile, the two sharing a quick hug, heavy pats on the backs and a quick squeeze before parting. The tanned male was soon disappearing into the elevator, leaving him alone with you once again.
Wheeling you through to the bedroom, he lifted you from the chair, the robe he’d left for you being a struggle to get off, and he undid the ties on the loose hospital gown, before trying to ease you into a soft set of pyjamas, fresh from the ones he’d spent the week sleeping beside. He left you above the covers, the heat of the mid-day hour undesirable to be tucked away, your hair fanned out around you as he let you lie down, adjusting you and propping a pillow up under your feet.
Pushing the wheelchair into the corner, he couldn’t help the relief that was filling him as he finally had you back, safe in his arms where he could properly protect you. Sitting beside you on the bed, he pushed up the edge of your shirt just enough to reveal the bandages on your torso, regret and guilt filling him as the pads of his fingers brushed over the wrapping.
“I’m so sorry I let this happen to you, baby.”
His words fell on deaf ears, but he’d been waiting too long to apologise, and he needed to speak the words to you, now that he had you home and within his grasp once again, the place where you should always be. His lips pressed to your forehead, a lingering kiss placed there before he swiped his thumb over the skin. He stayed a moment longer, before hauling himself to his feet and heading for the exit of the room. As he went, he flicked the lights out and drew the curtains, darkness filling the room as he left you to sleep, pulling the door shut but leaving it open enough to be able to hear you if you were to need him.
His first call was to sort through all your medicines. Unstacking each bottle methodically and reading over them, he checked them against the notes Melissa had left for him, reading up on each one before tucking them all into the first drawer on the island in the centre of the kitchen. Alongside them were the instructions, in case he forgot any, or you wanted to check yourself. He then took his laptop to the couch, collapsing across the plush leather seats and balancing the device half on his lap, half on his stomach, propped up with his head laying on the armrest.
He had been doing his best to keep your businesses in order for you, he’d kept up with any work he knew of that you did, and he’d made a conscious effort to visit each and every store during those ten days, to check that everything was going well with them. Despite it all, over these past few days, he had become progressively more impressed with your ability to contain them all. Never did a full thirty minutes go by without someone from somewhere needing something from you, emails and concerns regarding the businesses, and trying to keep track of all of the figures was dizzying. 
There was a reason he had Lydia running the books.
“Do you have eggs and bacon?” He’d been so caught up in sending a passive-aggressive email to the boss running your Brooklyn coffee shop, that when your voice came, it had shocked him so thoroughly that he almost fell from the couch.
“You’re not allowed!” His words had only confused you, and he jumped up from his seat, placing his laptop down on the kitchen counter as he made his way over to you. You shuffled further into the room as he watched, leaning against the wall for support as you went. His feet slipped and skidded on the floors to get to you, his hands hovering over your hips as you raised your brows at him.
“I’m not allowed eggs and bacon?”
“You’re not allowed to be out of bed!” He retorted, hands on your forearms as you grasped him in the same way, and he tried to make you walk back to the room, but you held your ground. Walking him backwards and into the open plan kitchen, he let out a sigh as he gave in to what you wanted. “Please go back to bed, I’ll make you any food you want, if you just go and rest.”
“I’ve been resting for a week and a half, I want something to eat.” You grouched, and he sighed reluctantly at your stubbornness, scooping you up underneath your legs and placing you into one of the tall seats at the kitchen island. 
He pulled eggs and bacon from the fridge, alongside everything else he needed to make you a breakfast fry-up, a small smile pulling on his lips, back turned to you. He glanced over his shoulder, watching as you tugged his laptop toward you, fingers swiftly typing in the password as the black screen lit up, and he didn’t even bother questioning or trying to stop you. Your eyes were moving quickly over the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard as you contemplated his email draft. He waited for your response, heating oil in the pan and waiting for it to begin sizzling, while he prepared a tray of food for the oven in silence. 
“You’ve been managing my businesses while I was out?”
“Of course.” His back was still turned to you, and you closed down the draft, only humming in reply, but choosing to log into your account and checking through the notifications there. Your stomach rumbled loudly as the smell of food drifted into the air, plates clattering and eggs sizzling as he cracked them on the edge of the pan, tipping them into the hot oil. “I did most of the paperwork, too. You’ll probably want to check over it, but I did the best I could.”
“I’m sure you did fine. It’s all good.”
Silence fell between you both again, something that was tense and uncomfortable on his end because he had no idea how to interpret it. 
It felt like he was choking on the air, the sounds of your fingers on the keyboard, the occasional sizzle or pop from the food as he worked breaking the quiet. He turned, pushing a plate of steaming food toward you as soon as it was ready, and you gasped happily.  Taking it from him, Stiles pulled out the seat opposite to you, poking at his meal as you dug in quickly. 
You had finished half of your food before you broke the silence again, clearing your throat and forcing him to look up to you.
“Why are you pouting so much?”
“I’m not pouting. I don’t pout.” He scoffed, and you simply watched him, his body deflating under your stare. He scooped up a mouthful of food onto his fork, chewing it and letting his eyes leave yours for a second, swallowing audibly and looking back at you. “It’s my fault.”
“What’s your fault?”
Your voice was light and chirpy, and you happily sliced off another large chunk of bacon and hash-brown, his head shaking as he twirled his knife between two fingers, the tip of the cutlery pressed to the plate. “That you got shot.”
Your cutlery clattered against the plate, and he jumped at the sound, his eyes snapping to you. You were scowling at him, somehow still managing to look sympathetic and sweet as you watched him, but there was anger laced underneath. “That is such bullshit!”
“No, it’s not.” He ran a hand through his hair, and you shifted in your seat, rubbing your fingers over your stomach gently as you waited for him to try and find his words. “I care about you, so much. I was so angry that I left you there, and I’m the one who told Malia I wasn’t going back, when I saw her in the elevator, and now she’s gone. I told her you would be all alone, I left you after shouting at you. I shouldn’t have.. have-”
“Have what, Stiles?” You reached out across the table, and he choked back his feelings as you placed your hand over the top of his, tips of your fingers tracing each knuckle and veins on his hand. The simple touch was calming him more than he would care to admit, simply because it was you. “She would have just come back another day, when I was alone. This was a planned attack, and you can’t blame yourself. She would have just waited, they would have just waited. I don’t blame you, and I forgive you for what you said that night.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. How could I not?” You glanced down at yourself, a ghost of amusement beginning to manifest on your face, tempting him into the same. “You put me in my favourite pyjamas, and made me breakfast even though it’s mid-afternoon.” You gave a wry smile, and he shook his head, but the expression was soon dropping as he watched your face curl into a frown.
“What, what’s wrong? Are you in pain?” He was up from his seat in seconds, the half-eaten meal left abandoned as he rounded the marble countertop to get to your side, and you shook your head, anger stitched onto your features, instead.
“Nothing, it’s just that.. I’m pretty sure Theo stole my cat.”
“What?”
“Scott said Lydia told him that he was nowhere to be seen when she got there. I think he stole my cat.” You mumbled, finishing up your food, and running a hand through your hair, cringing when you pulled it away from your greasy tresses, all while he stared at you incredulously. “What are you staring at?”
“You know, he probably just ran away.”
“My cat isn’t the runaway type, okay? I’m absolutely sure he took him.” You were insisting, trying to hop down from the seat. Stiles leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, before scooping you up into his arms delicately, ignoring your protest about his actions. You gave in, your arms wrapping around his neck, the plates abandoned on the island to be cleared away later, your head falling to rest on his shoulder. “I want a bath, or in the very least a shower. I feel gross.”
“You’re beautiful.”
“Shut up, I’m greasy.” You growled, but he laughed at your words, trying to keep you steady in his arms as he made his way toward the bathroom. Placing you down on the counter, he ran the taps for you, plugging the bottom of the tub, before turning back to you once the water was gathering. 
You lifted your shirt up and over your head, wincing as it fell free and stretched out your core just enough for you to feel the pinch at the hole on your side. You lifted your hips, getting to the floor and wiggling your shorts free from your body, before turning to the mirror. 
“You have spare bandages and wrapping, right?”
“I get shot at for a living, of course, I do.”
“Right, ‘course.” You muttered, peeling back the tape holding the patch over your stomach and dropping the slightly bloody pack into the bin, before examining your wound in the mirror. Red flesh was surrounding it, your veins standing out, and you twisted to get a better look at the injury. It was somewhat scabbed over, the patch dark red and purple, and you ran your fingers delicately around the area. “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”
He stood behind you, letting you lean back into him for support as he wrapped an arm around your hips, hand resting on your side as he avoided going near the spot. “It’s going to leave a badass scar. I think it’ll be pretty sexy.” He pressed a kiss to your neck, smirking when he heard you chuckle, before he was pulling away, swirling his hand in the water to test the temperature as the tub filled quickly with several inches of water. “We need to try and keep it dry, okay? So, I’ll tip water over you, and you can cover it with your hand, alright?”
You didn’t respond, simply turning around in his arms, and his hands moved to sit against your lower back instead. His eyes were wide on yours, a sweet gaze that made your heart flutter. Leaning in, you cupped his cheeks in your hands, pulling his face up until you could brush your nose with his. His lips puckered, barely brushing your own as he groaned needily under his breath when you snapped away suddenly.
“Why be such a tease, doll?”
“I wanted to kiss you.” You mumbled, breaking free from his hold to root through the cupboards, picking up your toothbrush from the sink, a huff leaving him as you soaked the end of your toothbrush.
“And yet, you didn’t.”
“I haven’t brushed my teeth in almost two weeks.” You muttered, sticking the brush into your mouth, relishing in the minty taste that covered your senses, and scrubbing at your teeth as he chuckled.
“I wouldn’t have cared.”
“I wou’ haf’.” Your words were distorted as you spoke, and you continued to clean until you finally felt satisfied. Spitting into the sink and rinsing your mouth out, you rinsed off your brush and placed it back in the stand beside his. When you turned again, he was standing behind you, towering over you once again as his hands cupped your face, brows raised.
“Now?”
“Now.”
His lips descended onto your own, a moan leaving his lips as your smooth lips worked against his chapped ones, dragging together in a sweet gesture that he had missed so much since the last time he’d had the chance to kiss you. He pressed further into you, pulling you closer softly, your front meeting his as he tried not to push against your wound. A gasp left you when his hands slipped down from your face to wrap around your waist, and he took the chance, his tongue dipping into your mouth to find your own.
The muscles tangled together, your hands bunching the material of his shirt under your palms as he took control of the kiss, and your body loosened under his touch. Your heads were tipping to the sides, breathy moans leaving the both of you, and he dominated the kiss, every part of him covering every part of you. It was different from other kisses, it was slow and passionate but there was something more. Something that tasted like love on your tongue as he worked your mouths together, your nails digging into his chest.
It was full of lust and need, but also want and care and everything within you melted. The scruffy stubble on his jaw that had gone unshaven was scratching at your skin in the most delicious way, his fingers spreading out over your back and tips digging into your body as he tried to pull you impossibly closer. The two of you were trying to wrap yourselves up in one another, for all you were worth, until the burn for oxygen was just too much for you to handle.
When you pulled back, he ran a finger over your lips, his forehead pressed to yours, eyes still closed as the two of you panted for breath. “I missed the taste of your mouth. God, I missed you so much. Ten days of pure fucking torture.”
You grinned, tipping your head enough to press a scattering of small kisses to his cheek and jaw, burying your face in his neck. “You’ve never kissed me like that before.” He pulled back, grinning at you, before sweeping you off of your feet as he lifted you up and over the edge of the tub. Your toes tingled as warm water lapped over your feet, up to the bottom of your calves.
The water only went up to just over your thighs when you sat down, and he tugged his shirt off over his head, kneeling on the floor beside you as you took a sponge and soap. Lathering yourself up and dipping it under the water, his larger hand closing over your own as he took it from you, cleaning your skin as you covered your bullet wound. 
He helped you wash your hair, and your face, pressing another short kiss to your lips every time he had the chance to do so, before he was lifting you out of the tub, standing you up and patting you dry with a fluffy towel.
Once you were redressed, he situated you on the couch. The small argument you both shared as he once again tried to convince you to go back to bed and rest was short-lived, your lips on his cutting him off and he quickly gave in. walking you slowly to the couch, making sure your legs were propped up on a cushion to reduce the swelling, and that you were wrapped up comfortably in a blanket.
Before he could settle beside you, though, his phone was ringing, and he searched around for it. It was located on the table nearby, and he swiped it up, answering it quickly while walking a few steps away from you. You watched as his jaw hardened, his eyes narrowing and body stiffening, flicking to you for a split second as he hummed. You watched on curiously, before moving your attention to finding the TV remotes when the line went silent as he listened to the half of the conversation that you couldn't hear. You found them at the other end of the coffee table, rolling yourself awkwardly toward them, shuffling down the couch until you could reach them, clasping them in your hands, and an arm under your waist was lifting you back up to a sitting position.
He rolled his eyes at you, his lips flicking up at the edges as you waved the devices at him, His free hand came to sit on your cheek, thumb brushing over your cheekbone as he stood back to his full height, and continued to take in the information he was getting. When he had finished, he pulled away, staring down at the device in his hands for a good minute after hanging up, before turning to you.
“They found Theo?”
“You’re awfully intuitive.” He mumbled, nodding, a deep sigh on his lips as he turned to face you. “I have to go now. I’m going to rip his fucking throat out. I want to make sure he feels every ounce of your pain and every bit of mine, but I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“Yeah, because the last time I left you went so well.” He poked a finger to your ribs through the blankets, and you barely felt it, but you slapped his hand away anyway with a small scowl, turning on the television. He paced away from you, disappearing into his bedroom to gather himself.
You had found a film by the time he had returned, and you heard him clattering about in the kitchen, before he reappeared in front of you. A pint of ice cream with a label you recognised was in his hand, a spoon too, and he held them out to you. Taking them quickly, you peeled the lid back, pushing the spoon into the top to retrieve a mouthful, you gave out a small moan as the icy flavours hit your tongue. You took in his appearance, black skinny jeans clad on his legs, a pair of dirty trainers and a black henley, rolled up on his forearms messily; a look you definitely approved of.
“I picked that up a few days ago when I went to check on your store in Manhattan.” You beamed at him, taking another spoonful of it and offering it out to him. He leaned down, taking the bite of the cold treat you offered him, before he was moving past the spoon, and leaving a long kiss on your lips. Your hand smoothed down his back, brushing the gun that was tucked into the back of his pants, a grin on your lips as you slapped his ass lightly as he pulled away. “I’ll be back soon.”
Your lips pressed to his again, and he sounded something between a grunt and a moan, one of his knees resting on the edge of the couch beside your legs, mumbling indiscernible nonsense into your mouth.
“I really have to go. We can definitely do more of that when I get back, though.”
He parted from you, finally, storming his way across the room to the elevator, and you watched him go. A smirk rose on his lips as his eyes connected with yours before the doors closed, leaving you alone in a silent room.
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Stiles’ foot tapped agitatedly against the floor of the elevator as he watched the numbers overhead count down to the bottom floor, his team already assembled as they waited for him. Isaac was chewing gum, standing protectively by Allison's side as she sharpened her favourite knives while lounging in a chair. Lydia was avidly setting up comms with them all, passing them around as Derek and Scott fussed over one another’s vests, checking the straps and harnesses, and Kira, was quietly mumbling small prayers to herself, and spinning the first set of car keys on her finger. Isaac held the other set, and Stiles didn’t bother to speak to any of them as he swiped his protective vest from the side, pulling it over his head as he went.
The car he found himself in was being driven by the same man who drove him home for the hospital, sitting beside him upfront as Kira climbed into the back, a large bag of guns on her side.
Scott, Derek and Allison took the other, Lydia’s voice crackling in his ears as she tested all of their comm systems, and he rolled his shoulders, settling into his seat as stretching his legs out before him as he relaxed into the leather. There was nothing about this assignment he had to be nervous about, nothing he was worrying over, because there were no debates in this scenario. There were no ‘maybes’ and possibilities.
He was going to kill Theo Raeken, the man’s fate already set in stone.
He cranked up the radio as soon as the car hit the freeway, tapping his fingers against his leg to the tune, and he heard the sharpening of Kira’s sword in the backseat pause, Isaac’s gaze flicking over to him. He tipped his head to the side to face his friend, a grin on his lips.
“We’re listening to music on the way to a job now?”
“Yes, we are. Because today is a good day.” He mumbled, kicking his feet up on the dashboard and leaning even further into his chair, making Kira huff as she shuffled to it in the middle seat instead. Isaac squirmed in his seat, thoroughly unsettled by how calm and casual he was about what they were about to do. “Do you know why today is a good day, Isaac?”
“Because we’re going for Theo?”
“Correct! We are going to kill him, and it’s going to feel fantastic.” Stiles sighed, the journey seeming to melt away around them. The classic jazz coming from the station helped the journey to pass by, urban city scenes passing by in blurs as they turned to green trees. The other cars were left behind, the smooth tarmac pathways becoming dirt and gravel, bumpy as the car rolled across them, and Stiles at up further.
The car came rolling to a stop outside of a collection of large, recently redesigned warehouses, on the outskirts of Westhampton. “Is this it?”
“This is it.” Lydia’s voice rang in his ears, and he hummed, peering up at it.
“Lydia, I want to buy it once we’re finished here. He’s already done the buildings up, all nice for me, how considerate.” Getting out of the car, he stretched himself out, the second vehicle rolling up beside them as multiple doors slammed. Lydia was talking in his ear about their best approach, the intel she’d gathered online and from the camera’s internally that she had hacked, in order to guide them through the building best. Stiles was antsy, and he was already on his way up to the door.
Rapping his knuckles against the thick wood, he leaned on the wall, hand tucked into the back of his pants casually as he waited, and he could hear the rest of the team panicking as they tried to work out what to do. When the door finally opened, he was met with a face he didn’t recognise, a scar across their cheek as they sneered at him, demanding to know what he wanted, and his head tipped to the side with a chilling grin.
Pulling the gun from its place hidden in the back of his jeans, he pressed it up to his forehead, pulling the safety before his opposition even had a chance to react, the bullet cracking through his skull and straight through the other side. Chunks of skull, muscle and greymatter splattering against the walls inside, his body crumpling, and Stiles stepped out of the way as he fell to the floor. 
Stepping over his body, he moved past the blood-stained walls and further inside, dull music echoing from the higher floors as he looked around. Lydia was grumbling into his ear as he ruined her inconspicuous plan, the others flocking around him.
“Spread out, kill everyone you see, I don’t give a shit. But Theo’s mine.” He heard everyone leave, and he wandered towards the bottom of a set of stairs, peering at the level above. Climbing the metal stairs slowly, the sounds of pained screams came from below the balcony and down the corridors he couldn't see, boots running against grated metal floors and gunshots going off.
He didn’t have to wait long to find out where Theo was, hearing the music of the top floor switching off, muffled shouting taking over and he headed in that direction, searching for the next set of stairs. 
Nothing but sick anticipation filled his system as he caught sight of the blonde rushing down the stairs towards him, unaware of his presence at the bottom. He swerved to the side, covered by the shadows, and as she took off in a run, he gripped her by the neck. Her feet leaving the floor as he tossed her backwards with ease, her back and head slamming into the ground. Kneeling by her side as she blinked her vision clear, hand coming up to grip at her head, Stiles’ hand tightened around her neck, knees shifting to press into her bicep on each side and keeping her pinned to the floor. A cry left her loudly, agonising pain as the muscles twisted under his leg.
“Hello again, Malia.”
Her eyes widened, and she flexed under his hold, his eyes and face going red as she struggled; thrashing legs, body jolting, but the movements were of no use.
“Struggling to breathe there, Mal? That’s a real shame.” He tutted, tightening his fingers around her throat as the raspy gasps for breath were cut off altogether, her face turning almost purple. “Do you know who else struggled to breathe, Malia? The answer is; the girl I love, as she choked on her own blood after you shot her. Do you remember that?”
She nodded as best she could, and he loosened his hold, letting her suck in frantic breaths, spluttering and coughing for air as she heaved. Tears were in her eyes, leaking out onto the floor as she writhed, desperately. Just before she could catch her breath, he was tightening his hand once again, glaring down at her, his jaw clenching. His knee pushed down on her arms even more harshly, and she screamed out in pain, the veins in her neck and forehead bulging from the pressure.
“How does it feel? I can bring you to the verge of death, and then let you go, only to bring you right back. Tell me, Malia, was it worth it? Was betraying me worth your life? Because that is what it’s going to cost you.” He reached for the nearest rope, wrapping it tightly around her ankles, securing it there as she tried to regain her breath, red marks on the skin around her neck, slipping in and out of focus. “Luckily for you, your life isn’t my call to make. There is one person whom you betrayed even more deeply than me, and so he can choose your fate. There’s only one person on my personal hit-list tonight.”
He dragged her across to the edge of the platform, tying the other end of the rope to the metal barricades, her eyes wide as she looked up at him and he waggled his fingers in a wave, smiling falsely before using his foot to kick her over the edge. The rope quickly diminished, the sickening pop of a joint coming out of place sounding out and he smiled in satisfaction, continuing his way on to the place he wanted to be.
“Everyone meets at the office on the top floor. And, Scott? There’s a little present for you hanging out on the second level. Do with it as you will.”
He could already see the man storming about on the other side of a glass door. Nudging the door open with his foot, Stiles leaned on the doorframe, waiting to be seen. 
Upon being noticed, Theo scoffed, lunging for the gun on his desk. Stiles sighed, firing off a single round, the bullet bouncing off of the desk and deterring his foe from reaching for the weapon once again.
“Hi there, Theo. Heard a lot about you.”
“Stilinski. Do you know what you’ve started by coming here?” His words were growled out, and Stiles only shook his head, standing to his full height as he clicked his tongue.
“I didn’t start anything, I’m simply finishing what you started.” He hooked his foot around the wheels of a desk chair, kicking it towards the man as he picked up the other gun, tucking it into his belt securely and spinning his own around his finger, before using it to point to the seat; “Why don’t you sit down, hm?”
“I don’t want to sit.” Stiles’ eyebrows rose, and his lips formed a silent ‘oh’, and he grinned, tightening his fist and smashing it forward into Theo’s face. The man's head flew back, a mixture of spit and blood flying from his mouth, and he brought a hand up to clutch at his face, eyes wide as the first physical blow between the two was thrown. “What the fuck do you want?”
Blood was running down his face, and Stiles shrugged, pacing slightly as he pulled the chair back to himself, sitting down in it and spreading his legs out before himself. “I want you to feel every bit of the pain you caused.”
“What? You’re angry because I shot the bitch who ran away?” Theo offered a smirk with bloody teeth, trying to stand his ground. “You should be thanking me. Don’t tell me you were attached to the sloppy seconds who came crawling to you?” Theo licked over his lower lip as he considered his words. “Oh, you were? Such a shame, she was rather good in bed. Did you get a chance to fuck her, before I killed her?”
“Oh, you think you killed her? How sweet.” He stood, eye to eye with the man before him, stepping into his space, so close he could smell the coppery scent of the blood trickling from his broken nose. He moved, the weapon between them, the barrel of the edge of his gun pressing to Theo’s stomach. “Would you like to know how it felt when you tried to take her life?”
Before Theo could react, Stiles had pulled the trigger, a bullet tearing through his skin and into his guts, and Theo screamed out as he fell to his hands and knees. One hand came up to clutch as his middle, and Stiles pressed a foot to his shoulder, kicking him over onto his back, before crouching beside the blond man. Scratching at his jaw, he stared off into the distance, contemplating his words.
“Does it hurt, Theo?” He only received a grunt in response, blood pouring and staining the pale t-shirt his nemesis had been wearing, and Stiles’ hand curled into a fist, one finger sticking up. “She tried to get to her gun, she hit the floor harder than you did, she was alone. That probably felt more like this.”
He pushed his finger into the hole, blood spurting out as Theo squirmed and screamed, choked sounds of pain leaving him as he jerked under Stiles’ touch. Pulling his finger back, he wiped it clean of blood on Theo’s shirt, standing enough to retract the flip-knife from his pocket. The blade popped out, and he ran the tip of his finger over the sharp edge.
“Now you know how she felt, but would you like to know how I felt?” Theo sputtered, coughing on his blood and mumbling aggressive curses under his breath, all of which went ignored by Stiles. He waved his hand, flipping the knife in his hand and forming a fist around it as he gripped it firmly. Placing it over the man's heart, he pressed it down just enough to break the skin over the left side of his chest, tipping Theo’s face to look at him, ensuring that Stiles’ face would be the last thing he saw. Pulling his hand back, he plunged the knife straight in, twisting it roughly as he tore apart his heart from the inside, leaving the blade wedged in his body. “It felt like that.”
The life faded from his eyes, and once he was satisfied with the dead man before himself, Stiles removed the knife, wiping it on his pants before putting the blade away and tucking it into his pocket again. He could hear multiple sets of footsteps falling on their journey toward his location. The loud sounds of anarchy in the building had fallen silent, and he smirked, before looking down when he felt something bump solidly against his leg, shoving at his ankles.
A furry little skull head-butted his leg, a tail wrapping around his calf as a small cat weaved between his legs, and he let out a disbelieving laugh at the sight. “Son of a bitch. He took the fucking cat.” Leaning down, Stiles scooped up the animal into his arms, flipping him over to hold him delicately. He was lighter than he had been, fur not as glossy and body skinnier, but it was definitely the same animal, his paws curling around Stiles’ hand as he held the cat tenderly, claws digging into his hand. “Don’t fucking claw me. I’m saving your life. I could leave you here.”
The cat only meow-ed at him, somehow managing to sound snarky, as though calling his bluff, and Stiles rolled his eyes. Fishing around the room, he wrapped the trembling creature in the soft material, his team gathering in the doorway. He didn’t bother to explain the cat to them, he didn’t bother to ask Scott about what he’d chosen to do with Malia, he didn’t care for any of it. All he cared about was getting home, to where he belonged, with you.
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The credits of your movie were just beginning to roll on the screen, and you kicked the blanket away from your legs carefully, trying to push yourself up from the couch, using the armrest for support as not to strain yourself. Grabbing the empty carton of ice cream, you took the spoon too, moving through to the attached kitchen to clear up after yourself.
Pulling open the dishwasher, you used your foot to lower it to the ground, pulling out the racks and clearing away the plates from your earlier meal too, trying not to over-exert yourself as you felt the slight stinging in your abdomen beginning to start. Once it was set off with cleaning the dishes, you searched through the drawers and cupboards for medications, knowing a bag had been sent home with you, handed over to Scott before you’d passed out in the car on the way home.
You finally found them, shakily filling a glass of water and reading over the instructions, not wanting to take something that would make you sleepy, you wanted to be awake when Stiles came home. Popping the correct dosage of pills, you swallowed them down, followed by a few sips of water, letting out a sigh as you waited for the pain to ease.
Only a few minutes later, the achy throbbing had dulled back to numb bliss, and you let out a happy sigh, just as the shrill tone of the elevator opening sounded out. Cracking your eyes open, you watched as a slightly sweaty, dirty, and fairly tired Stiles walked in, a bundle of cloth clutched in his arms.
“Hey, baby.” His voice was hoarse and tired, and you smiled, padding across the floors towards him. “I have a surprise for you.”
You lifted a finger, tugging down the edge of the blanket to reveal what lay inside, and a gasp left you at the squirming ball of fur within. A loud meow sounded out, and Stiles moved the blanket, holding the cat for you so that you could pet him, knowing that you wouldn't be able to support the weight. Your eyes lining with tears as you were reunited with the pet you so deeply adored. Scratching behind its ears, he let out a soft purr, and you leaned down closer to his face. “You’re so thin! What did he do to you, little guy?”
You sounded broken-hearted, watching as Stiles’ jaw clenched. He’d never gotten along with your cat, the two seemed to have some kind of unspoken tension that had always made you giggle, but that didn’t mean Stiles didn’t love him. There had been days when you’d woken up, finding Stiles making breakfast in your kitchen and feeding tuna to the cat, or sitting with him on your couch and waiting for you to shower. Sometimes, Stiles would even show up with a bag of treats for the fur-ball. “I’ll take him to the vets tomorrow, he’ll be happy and healthy again in no time, I promise.”
He put the animal down, watching as it scampered away to begin sniffling about the home, exploring all of the rooms,  and disappearing from sight down the corridor as you watched it go. When you turned back to Stiles, he was already looking at you, watching you dutifully. You lifted your hands, cupping his face as you let out a watery laugh of sheer joy. “I love you so much.”
He didn’t have a chance to reply, you pulled his face down until you could press your lips to his, and he hummed happily against you. his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest and holding you close as he returned the kiss eagerly. One of his hands trailed down up to your cheek, fingers weaving into your hair as yours came down to hold around his torso, hooked under his arms to hold him close. Parting your lips, the kiss became messier, the smacking of your wet lips sounding out, noses bumping as your heads tipped in opposite ways to get deeper into one another's mouths, and his tongue poked out to tangle with your own.
The wet articles had barely met before he was pulling back, panting slightly and licking over his swollen lips, before leaning in to press his forehead to yours, grinning madly.
“Did you just say you love me?”
“Yeah. Problem?” You were still breathless, equally panting against his mouth and leaning up, stealing another kiss from his lips, and he returned it happily.
“God, no. I love you too.” He dipped down, kissing along your jaw and up to your temple, before leaving a soft kiss on your forehead. “I love you so much.”
“How’s your pain?” Stiles mumbled, his arms smoothing round you a little further until he was tugging you into his chest. Clearly seeking comfort, as his nose buried in the hair at the top of your head, and he let out a sigh.
“Fine, I took some of my meds earlier.” 
“And how does the wound feel? Did you do much while I was out?” He hugged you closer, tightening the hug when your arms came up to wrap around him, and you realised you were seeking just as much comfort from him as he was searching for from you, right now.
“I watched my movie, and I put away the dishes from earlier. That’s it.”
His fingers tangled in your hair, brushing through the clean but tangled locks, his lips brushing your forehead. Your heart was thumping steadily, pressed up to him as he held you close, and you snuggled into his shoulder.
“You know, I’m going to have to go home at some point. There’s no litter tray here. I’m pretty sure you don’t want the cat to pee on your fancy suits.” You both felt and heard the groan he let out, his cheek still pressed to the top of your head but he eventually pulled back from the embrace.
“You are home. I’ll send someone to fetch the litter tray.” His words were spoken tiredly, suppressing a yawn, and you reached up to brush stray hair out of his eyes, a smirk forming on your lips.
“Are you asking me to move in with you?”
“I kind of already did move you in, I’d be pretty put out if you said no.” He joked, and you rolled your eyes at him, but the smile you wore only grew fonder. “Is that a yes?”
He didn’t get a chance to answer as your cat came running in, a loud meow being made as he charged at the couches. You watched him go, jumping up onto the plush leather, and moving around in circles before he settled down against a cushion. His claws flexed, kneading the sift filling and his eyes closed, a loud purr taking over. “I think that’s a yes from us both.”
The cat let out another small mew, and you giggled in response. Stiles’ hands dropped down to your own, lifting them up to his face so that he could press a kiss to each of your knuckles, eyes mixed on yours as he waited for your answer. “Okay, I’ll move in, but you have to change the litter trays half of the time.”
“Deal.”
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abyssofdemons · 4 years ago
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-rubs my little hands together- okay time for some hot takes with gou now that it’s ended! enjoy my ramble lmao
okay my very first impression on the start of gou was... wowie this is... a little much on the gore factor. NOW, I KNOW, THIS IS HIGURASHI. but the first half of gou was much more... brutal, in my opinion. now we know it was due to direct contact with h-173 and the influence of eua and satoko but oogh. it was a lot and had made me very anxious with how the plotline was going to go. was it going to be just torture porn for funsies in a way similar to how a lot of kira and rei seemed to be with fanservice? was it going to just be a remake with some funky fresh murder and death?
but then the story picked up! and i gotta say, i really love it. higurashi has always been like... super awesome to me because of the lore, the story. anytime i recommend it to someone, i tell them that kai is a must, that it really explains everything and wraps it up in a very nice bow! and we got more of that! more story, more lore! more character development. 
NOW TIME FOR SOME HOT TAKES. satoko and rika are both flawed, but ultimately good characters. now, okay, i know satoko lately has been... mmm... not good? she’s been controlling, callous, and really evil. but i’ve stayed by the opinion that this is due to hurt and trauma, and that she’s still good, and the finale proved that.
everything she’s done so far, everything she’s been doing... none of it is real. it’s a game of stubbornness on her end - her goal, her perfect ending... when that’s achieved, no suffering will have happened. we’ve seen this already. rika submitted, rika finally understood, rika proved she understood, and what happened? takano apologized. the tragedy stopped in its tracks. no one went on a murder spree, everything was perfect. satoko thought she had won - no more harm had to continue. she’d let everyone live on happily, without the horrors that she’d induced earlier - because to her, nothing she did in any other loop was real.
satoko just wants everything to stay how it is. she wants her best friend to not change, she doesn’t want to lose her, she doesn’t want to lose anyone. she’s lost her parents, her brother, everyone in her life that was meant to support and care about her. she watched rika promise to stay by her side and break that promise, over and over again. we don’t know how many loops satoko went through trying to keep rika by her side! we don’t know how long it took, how many collective years of attempts there were. we saw everything in, what, a few episodes? for satoko it took years. five years after winning to get to st. lucia, two years to get to the breaking point, and repeat. at minimum, these loops had to be, what, about 21 years collectively? (assuming satoko did at least three full loops, which i’m pretty sure we’ve seen in the show?)
that’s a lot of trauma, of restless grind and tear on someone’s psyche. of course she’d do anything to make that stop. of course she’d grow resentful of rika and just want her to understand!
and for rika... i love rika, i have a lot of personal ties with her and the character. but she does fuck up here. rika has had to pretend for hundreds of years. she’s had to pretend she hasn’t watched her friends and family die, she’s had to pretend to survive. at st lucia she has to pretend to be someone she’s not to fit in. st lucia is bad for her - she may be happy, she may think it’s good and she’s free, but rika is a master of blending in, even if the people she’s blending in with are horrible. she stopped being a good friend to satoko since the very first winning loop.
i’m eager to see how the next season goes, i’m so excited to see how all of this plays out, but, truthfully? i think there is going to be a good end - for all of them. takano is going to remember, she is going to back down. the tragedies will stop on that front. rika and satoko are going to fight, i know this, but i think... they’ll reconcile. the true enemy is eua. a cruel goddess watching mortals maim each other for fun - she’s going to be the final boss, and i think rika and satoko are going to beat her. at least, i hope. 
the ending of the original series and kai... it was a good ending. it was a great ending for them! they broke free of the loops, hinamizawa syndrome was gone, it was good! satoko and rika are going to both find their way to their happy ending again - but this time, they’re going to compromise on it. kai taught us that miracles happen if everyone stands together. why would they take away that message in gou/sotsu? they aren’t.
two more points i’d like to make: teppei, i hate him, but i don’t think the ‘redemption arc’ he got was bad or put him in good light. no one looks at him and forgives him. they don’t forget what he did - the last thing that was shown before he left the screen was a memory of him harming her. a last reminder of what he did so people don’t become too sympathetic. he’s going to change, and that’s going to be good for satoko, but they don’t push a forgiveness narrative. i think the main point of that whole thing was to remind satoko that the path she’s going down is harming others. it’s a mirror to what she is doing to rika right now. now i’m not saying she’s an awful, horrid child abuser, i’m just saying that what she’s doing is wrong and that sometimes you need a reminder of that.
my last remaining thought right now is... okay first off they aren’t going to tie higurashi directly to umineko, BUT, there is, and always has been, similarities to the two.
satoko = lambdadelta. the witch of certainty. rika = bernkastel. the witch of miracles.
don’t you think, with their powers together, they’d be certain to have the miracle to have the ultimate good ending for everyone?
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halothenthehorns · 3 years ago
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TLTNL- PERCY AND PADFOOT
Lily did not take the book with any amount of happiness. She couldn't stand the idea of just casually going on about Harry's life while that tyrant was torturing her son on a weekly basis now. The only remote bright spot she could picture was the end of the year where hopefully she'd sustain something far worse than having to leave the job. She took the book from Remus very grudgingly and trudged back to her spot next to James in a heavy silence, only Harry still seemed anxious to try and pretend like that part of his life was no big deal.
Harry was first to wake up in his dormitory next morning.
"That's a surprise," Remus said conversationally enough, he could still be angry and keep things light for Harry's sake. "I'd think you'd have to be dragged out of bed with all your sleepless nights from before."
"Guess my brain was still wired for school," Harry shrugged with a smile at him for the attempt.
He lay in his bed and savored for a moment it was finally Saturday, the first week had dragged on as if one long History of Magic class.
"Gah, can you imagine the horror," Sirius shuddered.
"Sounds nice actually," James snorted, "one nice long week to nap."
He collected himself and went down into the dormitory with his school bag, finding it much tidier than when he'd went to bed amongst the candy wrappers and loose scraps of parchment, along with Hermione's hats. He only vaguely wondered how many house-elves had been set free whether they wanted to be or not. *
"Really Harry? You didn't realize the problem with Hermione's plan? You were the one who had to trick Dobby into getting that sock instead of just giving it to him yourself," Lily frowned at him in confusion.
"I honestly thought Hermione had found a way around that, and hadn't questioned her. Thought she really knew what she was doing," Harry shrugged.
"Well it's nice to know she's not infallible in her logic sometimes I guess," James snorted.
  Harry uncorked a bottle of ink and stretched out a fresh sheet of parchment, but hesitated over what to put down, suddenly appreciating his friends vague letters over the summer.
They all perked up with interest at that, they'd been assuming Harry had just been fixing to start on some homework or some such, but this was even better! Sirius was full blown smiling now that Harry really was going to write to him about anything!
He wanted to write to Sirius about everything that had been going on this week, but not in so many words anyone would know what he was talking about. But how to do so without anyone else knowing?
"Very carefully," Remus smiled.
"Or you could charm it so that it only shows you the words when you give it a very vague command," James grinned.
Harry looked a bit disappointed he'd never thought of that, he really wished he had asked his Marauders how they'd charmed their map to do that.
Finally he began with dear Snuffles, and began with a pleasant enough greeting before going into detail about the new Defense teacher, who was about as nice as Snuffles' mum.
Sirius snorted violently before full blown laughing. Then he couldn't seem to stop for a moment. Lily looked on at him with a touch of concern for this reaction, Umbridge's horrid ways set her mind racing with every foul spell she knew to use on that woman for what she'd done to Harry. Just what on earth had Walburga Black done to Sirius for him to clearly be agreeing with Harry like this? She longed to ask, but respected it was his right to tell her if he ever wanted to.
Harry then got to the point, saying he was sending along this letter because what had happened two summers ago happened the other night in detention with Umbridge.
"That was incredibly vague," Remus beamed with pride.
"So, goal met then?" Harry smiled sheepishly, he'd been a little worried they were all going to tell him off for contacting Sirius considering how worried they'd all been about him joining him at the train.
"Absolutely," James nodded, "you're already a natural at this."
They were all missing their biggest friend and hoped to hear from him soon,
"That was a little on the nose," Lily giggled.
"Still credit for trying," Sirius chuckled.
then he signed off. He reread this letter several times, trying his best to find a hole an outsider could find, but he was sure no one could detect anything about the contents or certainly who it was meant for.
"Definitely not, you're safe on all counts," they all agreed, causing Harry his first real smile since he'd been back at school.
Harry hoped Sirius would pick up most of all on the mention of Hagrid, but did not want to ask directly in case it drew attention to his absence.
"I'm sure he'll be back in no time," Lily said with more confidence than she really felt. She was very worried about Hagrid as well, what was taking him so long?
Considering how short the letter was, it had taken him some time to do it. By now others were arriving downstairs, and Harry hastened out of the common room off for the Owlery. He ran into Nick on the way, warning him against going his current path as Peeves was planning a joke involved the bust of Paracelsus.
Harry asked if this involved the bust falling on his head?
"A classic then," James smirked.
Nick agreed in a bored voice that was the funny part.
"How on earth could he be bored by such a thing?" Remus drawled.
Pointing out subtlety had never been Peeves' strong point.
"Well that's fair enough," Sirius agreed.
Nick was off to find the Barron to put a stop to this, and he'd see Harry around.
"Merlin, doesn't anyone let people have some fun in that place," James sighed.
Harry ended up taking a longer but safer route up to the Owlery, and only came across Mrs. Norris. The cat gazed at him for a moment before darting off, Harry calling after her he hadn't done anything wrong, though the hike of her tail was one of going to fetch her boss.
"Maybe she was just mad you stopped her heading that way as well," Sirius snorted, "I've caught her a fair few times trying to go up there pestering the owls."
Ignoring the instance he found the straw strewn floor covered with the usual owl droppings and regurgitated meals, spotting his snowy white owl up in the rafters. Once she'd perched on his shoulder so he could tie his note to her, he instructed for her ears alone that though this was addressed to Snuffles, Harry urged his owl to find Sirius.
"You didn't bother calling me that last year, why start now?" Sirius chuckled.
"Now I actually felt the need for it," Harry muttered, shifting just a bit with unease as the safety of his godfather came into question.
She gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze before taking flight, and Harry watched her fly off with the most calm he'd felt in a while. The grounds were still and at peace in the morning light, the trees of the Forbidden Forest only swaying gently. It was as he gazed at these though that one of the skeletal horses from before came swooping out chasing a bird and when it missed, dived right back down out of sight. The whole instance happened so quickly Harry swore he could have imagined it.
"Can you imagine how many times that happens a day and no one sees it," Sirius looked a bit amused.
"Imagine if they roamed the grounds more than the forest," James agreed. "People would be constantly knocking into them, and seeing things happen because of those and no one would be able to figure out why except those that saw them."
"You lot are enjoying this idea far too much," Lily tried to repress a smile at the idea by telling them.
"What can we say, we have a certain fondness for invisibility," Remus smirked.
The Owlery door opened behind him. He leapt in shock and, turning quickly, saw Cho Chang holding a letter and a parcel in her hands.
"Hey, look who finally gets a moment alone with his crush," Sirius threw his hands up in victory.
"I don't find the owlery the most romantic setting," James smirked.
"Let's see if Harry can get through with this one without making a fool of himself," Remus snickered, "or this time it'll be entirely his fault."
"Your encouragement is the limit," Harry grumbled.
They both stammered a greeting to each other at once, Cho quickly explaining her end she was coming up here to deliver a birthday present to her mum.
Harry couldn't think of anything to say to that, his brain had jammed. He wanted to say something funny and interesting,
"Harry, you have yet to say that, ever," Sirius smirked, achieving his goal in getting a rise out of Harry who simply scowled at him for now.
but the memory of that horse now fresh had his mind struggling speech at all.
What came out was a gesture to the clear blue sky, and his pointing out how nice this was. Then he felt like crawling under the nearest rat skeleton and never coming out. He was talking about the weather!
"Considering you've never had a proper conversation, starting casual is probably best," James said fairly.
"Could have asked something more direct, like what she'd gotten her mother," Lily objected.
"Or I could go read this in another room without you lot," Harry huffed to try and get them to stop.
"You wouldn't dare," Sirius gasped.
"And miss out on our brilliant commentary?" Remus looked a touch offended.
Lily started giggling a bit when Harry didn't back down from his threat as she turned back anyways.
Cho at once agreed this made perfect Quidditch conditions.
"Well I like her," James beamed at once.
"A very good point she managed to steer right into that sport," Sirius agreed, which Harry supposed was better than them picking on him, so he let it go.
Then she asked if Gryffindor had a new Keeper yet?
Harry agreed it was his friend Ron, whom Cho remembered as the Tornado hater.
"I'm sure he doesn't hate the team," Remus said fairly, "just the fans who suddenly like them."
"Entirely not the point," Lily rolled her eyes at him.
She asked how his tryout had gone, and Harry confessed he hadn't been there because of his detention.
Cho met his eyes then, only half way done attaching her parcel to her owl, as she stated how foul that Umbridge woman was, putting him in detention for telling the truth about...of how he died.
"Oh look, another supporter," Sirius said quickly rather than letting Harry dwell on that again for a moment, "that's three to two."
"Are you going to keep a tally of everyone in the school?" Harry asked with some bemusement.
"Don't tempt him," James sighed.
"He's already not doing a good job anyways, it's five to two counting Ron and Hermione," Remus reminded.
"Those were given," Sirius brushed him off.
"Not if you're going to do a complete poll of all 500 something students-"** Remus began disagreeing, but Lily finally cut through the lot of them.
She kept Harry's eyes as she told how brave it was of him to stand up to her like that.
Harry felt his insides inflating so much he was sure he was suddenly floating off the ground a bit.
"That'd be a sight," James snickered at the idea.
Who cared about a stupid flying horse; Cho thought he'd been brave.
"Priorities," Remus agreed lightly.
For a moment, he considered accidentally-on-purpose showing her his cut hand as he helped her tie her parcel on to her owl . . .
"I'm not sure of the reaction you were hoping to get with that one," Lily said in disgust.
"I certainly wouldn't find that braver, but stupid on your part for not saying something about it before now," James agreed with a hard look at Harry who chose now to check to see if his shoelace was still tied.
Before he could act on the impulse, the door burst open, with Filch marching into the room on a mission. He locked eyes on Harry at once and demanded his mail from him, saying he'd been given a tip about the order of Dungbombs he was to be placing.
Lily puffed up her cheeks before letting the air out slowly to make sure her voice came out neutral as she asked, "why would he think that?"
"Maybe it was someone playing a prank?" Harry brushed off, not wanting to think much of it as he was still caught on his Cho interactions with a smile.
"Harry, you don't find it just a bit concerning someone was trying to take your mail from you?" Remus wheedled to try and keep him on track while everyone's eyes were still narrowed with dislike over this.
Harry did rethink things over, and he certainly felt a ball of anxiety forming in him at the thought now, but he was finally enjoying just a bit of his time remembering school again and don't want them to keep ruining it with suspicions, so he just shrugged again.
Lily hoped that meant nothing did come of this moment, rather than worrying at her lip for the implications of something she did not like.
Harry crossed his arms in defiance at once as he demanded who'd told that, and Filch just brushed him off saying that wasn't the point and to hand over his mail now. Harry was entirely grateful he hadn't dawdled in sending Hedwig off, as he told Filch as much.
His eyes narrowed with further suspicion, as he demanded if Harry still had it on his person in hiding.
"What's he going to do if you had?" James snorted, his old joy of tormenting Filch quickly rising to the top.
"Surely, it'll involve whipping or something," Sirius snickered, "that'll make the clothes come right off."
"Urgh," Lily grumbled, she'd never taken Filch's threats so lightly as the lot of them, but then she supposed, she'd never had to suffer a detention with him either so she could see why they played this off as a joke.
Cho jumped in then saying she'd been here when he did send it off.
"Are you sure she's not a Keeper?" James threw his head back with laughter, "because I think she is."
"And you say I come up with bad puns," Sirius snickered along.
Filch glared between the two before turning back to the door, but he froze with his hand on it and still angry eyes on Harry as he began to threaten if he got one whiff of a Dungbomb from him...
"You'll what? Come on man, finish your threats, it's far healthier," Remus said almost encouragingly.
He stomped out of sight then, Harry waiting till he was long gone before thanking Cho for backing him up. She said she didn't mind at all, before asking if he really had been up here ordering those?
"She asks after defending you," Lily giggled.
"Proper timing," James agreed.
Harry said no, and she at once went on to say why Filch had thought so then.
The two remained in silence then as Cho finally sent off her things and they left, waiting until they hit their departing corridor before Cho said she'd see Harry around.
He agreed at once, and the two departed both smiling.
"Lookie there, finally making some progress," Sirius couldn't quite keep the mocking tone out of his voice even as he applauded Harry.
"Looks like third time's his charm, he's beaten Prongs out by a mile," Remus agreed.
"Come on, 394 really isn't that bad in comparison," Sirius put on James' voice in a fair impression.
James chucked a pillow at him while Lily kept going.
Harry went all the way down to the Great Hall, for once ignoring any lingering stares or whispers as he kept remembering her saying how brave she thought he was...
He greeted his friends with the cheeriest morning he had all week.
"Is that all it takes putting you in a good mood?" James huffed, still giving his two friends the stink eye. "Chatting with a pretty girl? Maybe we should try and convince Andromeda to come over next time you're in a bad mood."
"I don't think the prelude to that conversation would be worth it," Harry rolled his eyes.
Ron eyed Harry with surprise for this mood.
"It's sad he's surprised to see you happy," Sirius snorted.
Harry fibbed it was the idea of Quidditch, which Ron only reluctantly agreed to, as he asked Harry if he'd go out with him even earlier than practice so that Ron could have a warm up before even then.
"He wants to train before training, Merlin I want to cry just thinking about it," Remus groaned.
"Don't know what you're talking about Moony, I'll take some hits with the ground over the pummeling my brain took over homework," Sirius shrugged.
Harry agreed at once, but Hermione cut in she seriously didn't think they should.
"I would never say any such thing, why would Hermione imply otherwise?" Sirius demanded while Harry chuckled fully again at that joke.
They were both really behind on homework as is- the two boys were thankfully saved anymore by the morning owl arriving, and Ron tried to delay further by asking if there was anything interesting in there.
"I'm sure the removal of Fudge from his Minister position wouldn't keep her from talking about that," James rolled his eyes.
She flipped through a few pages while saying there was nothing of note, before reaching a ways into it and whispering a sudden concern for Sirius.
Lily choked hard as she spat the name out in surprise, and James wasn't going to sit around and wait for her to get her breath back as he lunged forward and took the book away from her, reading out in a fevered haste-
Harry moved so fast he tore the paper in half, leaving the piece Hermione had been reading still in her hand, which she practically ignored as she read out the content for the boys that the Ministry had received a tip-off that notorious mass murderer Sirius Black may be here in London.
His face was going red, he had yet to take a breath, so Lily reached forward and placed her hand on the back of his neck, using as calm a voice as she could manage, "breath James, he's still fine."
"Right, yeah," he said jerkily, some normal color returning to his face as he studied the words and then glared up at his best mate.
To his infuriation, Sirius just shrugged with a bland look in place, saying, "look at it this way Prongs, even if I do, I'll know how not to get caught that way."
Remus' hands twitched, he really was going to start strangling him here in a moment if he didn't stop playing this off as a joke.
"Sirius, this really isn't the time for jokes," Harry stunned them all by snapping, his face bone white as he watched him. "How do you think I'll feel when-" his vision blurred white before he could say anymore, beginning to convulse and clearly suffering for trying to remember something.
Even beginning to guess what that could be had all of them breathless with fear, but Sirius rounded himself back enough, talking earnestly but softly to Harry now, "alright pup, you got it. No more making fun of Prongs no matter how dramatic he's being."
Harry's vision swam as he focused back on Sirius, something dark in him warning he didn't want to remember the warning he'd almost given. He believed that feeling, because the first option it meant just couldn't be true, he couldn't lose Sirius. So, it must be something else, Sirius just got really hurt or something...
It was the only conclusion any of them could comprehend, the alternative wasn't bearable. Lily had to gently pry the book from James' death grip as she went back to her spot, ignoring her own shaking voice for that heart stopping moment.
Harry began muttering furiously about how Lucius must have done this, he had seen Sirius at the platform.
Ron began in surprise when this had happened,
Remus forced himself to roll his eyes, to focus on this detail that Ron really hadn't noticed any such thing.
Sirius was also restraining himself from saying he didn't even blame Ron for not focusing on such a stupid little detail, but he didn't think that would be well received right now considering his last throwaway comment.
but the other two shushed him as Hermione read out the rest of the article about what would await him when he was found. She concluded then that he just couldn't leave the house again period,
Sirius turned as white as Harry had just been. If that rat was never caught...he couldn't do it, he couldn't go back to prison again, one that was somehow conceivably on par with Azkaban...
Dumbledore had warned him not to after all.
"I don't give a damn what Dumbledore said," Sirius snarled with absolute conviction. "I'd rather die outside that house than be a prisoner inside it again."
He crossed his arms defiantly, waiting for someone to argue with him, but not even Harry could bolster himself to do this. If he'd had to go back to living at the Dursley's full time, even for his own safety...he'd be doing something desperate as well.
Harry stared morosely down at the bit of paper he'd ripped off, his mind on other things besides the add for Madam Malkin's in his hand, but then tucked in a miniature article right below that was something else that caught Harry's attention.
"Not more on-" Remus pleaded, having to resist the urge to grab Sirius and not let go until those thoughts of his were no longer an issue.
"No, no," Harry murmured, still not back to his normal color, "something other than Sirius caught my attention, if you can imagine."
Sirius managed a giggle that didn't quite hit normal, but if Harry was forcing himself to move past the moment than clearly, they'd over read his reaction, something else must be going on...not that Harry just couldn't bear to understand his own thought, that wasn't an option.
He at once laid this out for the others to see, to which Ron instantly said he was good on robes.
James managed only a semi hysterical giggle for that.
Harry ignored him and read out the bit that was barely four sentences long about how Sturgis Podmore had been arrested for trespassing at the Ministry. He'd been caught trying to break into a high security door. The man had refused to speak in his own defense and was to spend the next six months in Azkaban.
No one spoke while Lily read out the charges, but by the time she'd finished and looked up in stunned disbelief, she found them all slack jawed. What they were hearing wasn't possible. Not the Sturgis who'd just been inducted into the Order, had gone to Dumbledore and begged the man to let him help in any way possible after he'd witnessed a muggle child beaten in the street. So how on Earth had he somehow managed to get himself tangled up into stealing from the Ministry? Sent to Azkaban? Why had he even wound up there, that bit about refusing to speak for himself stuck out more than anything, as surely Dumbledore would have stepped in. If he had for Harry than they couldn't imagine he wouldn't have for a faithful Order member as well...but then again, they also already knew of at least one instance where he'd let an Order member go to Azkaban without speaking a word for him. If he could do that to Sirius, they'd believe he could do that to anyone.
Harry was less following that train of thought and more trying to understand how someone from the Order had done that, but his first thought was a frame up. The man had been conned into it somehow... then he went cross-eyed in pain. He'd already suffered one memory blast a second ago for something far more precious to him regarding his godfather, he wasn't going to be pressing on this.
Lily was still waiting for someone to say something about this, but it was clear no one really could, this was too much happening back to back and they needed a minute to process, so Lily was hoping reading about Harry go through this would help.
Ron recalled him as a recently absent member of the Order-
Hermione quickly shushed him before he could go on about that, while Harry hissed he'd been given his stint just for trying to get through a door?
"Oh, that part wasn't so surprising," Lily murmured, "the Ministry takes their breaking and entering very-" she broke off with a nasty glare at Sirius, who managed a real smile and almost a pout for Lily not slipping up.
Hermione told him not to be silly, it wasn't just because of the door. What had he even been doing at the ministry at the time?
"I'm sure if they knew they'd put that in the story," Remus frowned.
"Maybe not," James disagreed, "could be something very secret and important, don't want word spreading around about it."
Ron muttered if this happened on orders from the Order?
"I, could be I guess," Sirius struggled, though he really had a problem understanding what the Order would have to do with the Ministry when they were so at odds.
"If so, then him being in Azkaban is all the fouler," James snarled in outrage.
Harry recalled that it didn't seem likely, as Sturgis had been absent when they were all headed to King's cross, he didn't seem to be doing much work for them lately.
"Perhaps he just wasn't doing this at that time, I'm positive he came around and explained himself before going on for more work," Remus reasoned out.
Ron instead offered up the idea it was all a frame up. What if the Ministry had lured him there, and then set a trap for him to get caught so they could pin this on him.
They all considered the idea for a moment, but not everyone was entirely convinced. Lily at least hoped the Ministry would never fall that far, but she still also held out hope there was something else going on they just couldn't get information from that about. Harry also wouldn't know, leaving them in the dark on this.
James and Sirius seemed to liken to the idea, in fact it explained a lot of his past behavior if he was now regularly being conned up there and then didn't explain this until after the fact to the Order for security reasons.
Remus found it plausible enough, though still a bit too underhanded for the Ministry at this stage. From all accounts, they were still working on discrediting Dumbledore, and though making one of his associates into this light was a next step, why make the piece so small then? They'd have made this front headline news if they were pushing for this tactic, yet it seemed a miracle the piece was in the paper at all. No, he still thought something else was going on here.
Harry found this too far fetched, but Hermione was impressed at this and found it plausible.
Then she folded the paper up and moved on to saying they should start with their Herbology homework.
"How on Earth does she flip from that to homework?" Remus demanded, absolutely derailed from his train of thought.
"I'm sure Hermione can manage to switch any topic to essays," James scowled for this subject being brought up and then cut off so quickly, he wanted to know what was really going on with someone he considered a friend.
If they were lucky they could start practicing McGonagall's Inanimate Conjures Spells before lunch.
Sirius tisked at once, caught at once from his own speculation. "Don't know what she's on about, they're going to play Quidditch."
Harry felt a small twinge of guilt as he watched her go through their list of work, but that blue sky outside really was exhilarating, and he hadn't been on his Firebolt in ages...
"So, you'll be heading down to the pitch soon," Sirius waved impatiently to get there.
Ron reassured Harry that they could go through all that tonight, while the two headed down brooms over their shoulders, Hermione's dire words about how they were going to fail every one of their OWL's still fresh in their ears.
Remus started snickering while nobody bothered acting surprised, even if Lily's mouth did thin just a bit in disapproval of this.
Plus they had all day tomorrow...then he asked if she'd really meant it about them not being allowed to copy from her?
"Did she ever actually let you?" Lily asked astounded, as she hadn't at all picked up on this.
"Sometimes she 'accidentally' left her work out while she ran off to the Library for something," Harry chuckled, "but she never just pushed it over for us."
Harry said she'd meant it alright, but Quidditch was important to them to, they had to stay on top for the team.
"Priorities," James agreed without a drop of sarcasm.
Ron agreed at once, they had time to do it all.
"I hope you remember that when you're up studying until Sunday," Remus winced in pity at the idea.
Harry refused to let his gaze linger on the Forest as they took to the grounds, that flying horse wasn't hurting anything and he had more important things to think about.
"That's fair honestly," James agreed, he hated lingering on things that weren't of importance as well, though he was still trying to pick apart that bit about Sturgis even while half listening to his sons Quidditch prows.
Ron did quite well on his solo practice with Harry, and both boys were heartened as they returned to lunch and more of Hermione's commentary on how irresponsible they were.
"I'd be more worried if she didn't honestly," Lily said fondly.
This time when they went back down, everyone else was waiting for them in the locker room, Fred and George greeting Ron by asking if the Ickle Prefect was going to show them all up.
"If they were making cracks at him like that, it's no wonder he got a little frazzled during tryouts," Remus said in sympathy.
"Ron really shouldn't be letting those light things get to him," James scoffed in disbelief, "not only have the twins said far worse to him before, but the buildup to a game is brutal. Ron's got to have better nerves to keep up."
Ron snapped at them to shut up as Angelina entered, warning them before they got started that they had some visitors in the stands but they were to be ignored while they did this.
It was easier said than done, as the moment the Slytherin team caught sight of them, they began catcalling.
"Did we ever establish what the rules are for spectators at practice?" Harry grumped.
"Nope," James popped the p for emphasis. "Sadly, the pitch stands are open at all times, they hardly have a guard up after all. If you call off practice to go find a teacher to complain to, then you get the same end results of having practice cut up and your time will run out for the next person anyways."
Harry grumbled something but admitted he could do nothing more about this.
Malfoy at once began a list of insults, starting with what Weasley was riding, an old log?
Harry told Ron to ignore the jab, they wouldn't be laughing when they were the ones losing next game.
'Says the one on the Firebolt,' Remus thought in sympathy for Ron at that comment.
Angelina had them all in the air and began with the simple practice of tossing the Quaffle around. Each team member had lobbed it to a random other, before Harry passed it to Ron, who fumbled and had to dive to the ground to get it.
The Slytherin's laughter doubled up at once, and Ron came up as red faced as the ball now. The twins exchanged a look, but uncharacteristically did not say anything themselves.
"It's nice even they have their limits," Sirius frowned in sympathy for Ron.
"I'm positive they'd never have a go at their brother in front of spectators," James said at once, "family boundaries and all that. They can pick on him all they like, but if someone else does it, then there's going to be a problem. Mocking him while they are being the opposite of that."
Sirius nodded in absolute agreement while Lily grinned at him before going on.
Angelina brushed past the moment as if it hadn't happened, telling him to pass it on already, and the routine began again before Malfoy's next comment floated up about how Potter's head was feeling? Did he need a lie down in the Hospital wing? It had been a whole week since he'd been in there after all.
"I wish that one was more of a joke," Lily groaned, considering her son had successfully woken up in there all four years.
On his next pass through Ron did catch his ball with skill, but then overenthusiastically lobbed it off to Katie which smacked her right in the face. Fred flew over at once and offered her a purple bit of candy, promising this would stop the problem.***
"Ooph," all five of them winced for that pain, though James tried to bolster, "least that one wasn't entirely his fault, Katie's got to work on her reflexes as well."
"He speaks from experience of one to many Quaffles in the face," Sirius agreed.
Angelina seemed to decide that was enough of that practice as the team broke up into their usual positions then, but Ron wasn't having much better luck this way. Harry wasn't paying much attention to anyone else as he weaved in and around looking for the Snitch, so stopped in surprise when Angelina blew her whistle and called at Ron he needed to be covering all of his posts, he was only hovering in front of the one.
"Well he was only used to playing with one post, back at home," Harry defended lightly.
"Guess there is room for adjustment time," James agreed.
Ron apologized at once while he tried to lengthen his field, Angelina coaching that he should be circling them all, or he'd let in more than the last three.
Lily winced upon the word three. She wasn't even much of a Quidditch fan and she was starting to feel bad for Ron, the boys were past that and starting to shift with unease at this poor display. They liked Ron a lot, but maybe he wasn't cut out for this game on such a level, not everyone was.
Before she went back to training she asked wasn't Katie's nose getting any better, but Katie said it was only getting worse. Fred eyed another piece of candy he'd apparently just given to her, and suddenly looked horror struck.
"Well that can't be good," Remus yipped at once in concern.
"Just what did the twins do?" Sirius agreed in a sudden surge. "I remember them saying they hadn't perfected the nosebleed one yet, but I thought by giving her that it would at least stem the flow, not make it worse!"
"They gave her the purple pill," James soothed, though his own twitching showed he wasn't entirely okay with this either, "surely they're not just using her for a test dummy."
Not long after, Katie had to be escorted off the field, face pure white from blood loss, by the twins who had accidentally given her a Blood Blister pod.
"What does he mean by mistake?" Lily demanded dangerously. "Thought they were color coded for a reason, how could he give her the wrong one?"
They really had no answer for this, it wasn't like the twins to be so careless with their own products.
Angelina gave in on practice for the day and slumped off amongst the Slytherin's most recent chant of 'Gryffindors are losers!' They made their way back to the common room where Hermione asked in a frosty voice how it had gone. Ron at once said it had been lousy, and Hermione's voice cooled in sympathy it was only his first after all.
"It's nice she thaws on them when it counts," Remus chuckled.
Ron snapped who'd said it had been him that made it lousy?
Sirius couldn't help but snort lightly for his snap, she had made the presumption, even if it was right.
Then he marched off to go get his book bag, while Hermione leaned in and whispered for Harry alone if it had been him.
Harry said no with loyalty.
"There's my little Gryffindor," James beamed for the response he'd have given.
When Hermione kept staring, he conceded it hadn't been the best, but this really had been his first crack.
No more was said as the two spent the evening going through all their work, made extra difficult as Harry could still hear the echo of the Slytherin's cruel chant.
"Oh Harry, don't let yourself get so psyched out as well," Sirius tried to comfort, "that won't help Ron."
"Malfoy really has this way of sticking in my head," Harry huffed.
They spent the rest of the night and the whole of Sunday pushing through their mountain of work, by Sunday night Harry was feeling as if his brain was smashing its way out of his skull.
"Lovely mental imagery," Remus winced in sympathy.
Harry muttered for Ron they really should be doing more of this over the week.
"Well it's not as if you had much of a choice," James said fairly, "what with being physically tortured and all," his voice finishing with flat ice.
Harry winced and hid his hand from sight again, knowing they weren't letting that one go anytime soon.
Hermione had spent her time relaxing, making more elf hats, and chatting with other friends the whole time, but as the night wore on and most of the common room emptied out for their early morning tomorrow, she took pity and wandered over, glancing at Ron's current Astronomy essay and corrected Jupiter's biggest moon was Ganymede, and Lo had the volcanoes.
"Exactly what text was he using to be swapping all those?" Remus asked in sympathy.
"The book was upside down, he didn't even seem to notice he was as exhausted as I was," Harry sighed. "I probably would have noticed soon, I was almost done with mine."
Ron began scratching out the wrong information without a word, while Hermione began apologizing.
"Why's she apologizing, I thought she always critiqued your homework," Lily said in surprise.
"Ron looked ready to make her eat that quill as he was using it," Harry winced, his best mate not in the mood for Hermione to be doing this over his shoulder in that way.
Ron snapped he didn't want to hear it if she was just going to criticize.
"I was under the impression she always criticized him," Sirius said lightly.
"I'm still convinced that's their form of flirting," Remus snorted, thinking Ron was looking for a good row to let off some steam, and Hermione was more than likely his usual go to with that.
Hermione spotted something else, but when Ron tried to cut her off he didn't want to hear it, Hermione pointed at Hermes in the window.
"Not Percy's owl?" James yelped in shock as he leaned over Lily's shoulder to read that one.
"Why do you even remember that detail?" Sirius asked as he certainly hadn't.
Lily shushed them both while reading with an honest touch of hope, maybe Percy was trying to come around and apologize? Hopefully that letter was for all his siblings and he'd made up with his parents?
Ron went to the window at once and wrenched it open, Percy's owl swooping in and landing on Ron's moon of Io.
"I'm sure the Professor will appreciate the attention to detail," James muttered as he was still trying to peek over Lily's shoulder and see what this was about, while she was just as effectively ignoring him.
Ron tore open the envelope curiously and began reading, but his expression quickly flipped to disgust the longer he read.
"That was not an encouraging start," Remus began without much surprise, though he still couldn't imagine what this was about, while Lily sighed with disappointment and couldn't bother clinging to her hope anymore as she got it out.
He wordlessly thrusted the letter to his friends, apparently to appalled for words, as they began reading to themselves about Percy's beginning stating he'd heard from the Minister of Magic himself,
"That was entirely unnecessary," James huffed.
"As was that," Lily snipped at him.
that Ron had become a Prefect. This was excellent news, as Percy had always feared Ron would take the 'Fred and George' route, but now he was elated to hear his youngest brother had decided to take on some responsibility.
"He didn't decide anything," Sirius threw his hands up in exasperation for people continually saying that. No one put their name down, no one did anything to become Prefect, it was entirely the decision of the Heads of Houses and ultimately Dumbledore.
He was sending this letter with as much warning as anything though, for if he expected to go further in life with this achievement, he should be warned of his continued fraternization with Harry Potter, which he'd gathered Ron was still hanging around again from word of the Minister.
Remus frowned in confusion, wondering what Umbridge had passed along that involved Ron at all? He supposed he wasn't too surprised if that thing was keeping tabs on Harry's friends as well though.
Percy put in the simple fact that Ron could quickly lose his badge if this kept up.
Harry spluttered with absolute indignation. What had he done to deserve that from anyone, let alone a person he'd gotten to know on at least some level? He'd never taken a liking to Percy, but he'd never thought he'd done anything to deserve him telling his own brother to drop him? Ron was Harry's first friend, his best friend, and more family than he'd ever had in his life before he met Sirius.
James fired up at once, snapping, "what does Percy want, for Ron to be an outcast and no one to like him like Percy is?"
The sad truth was, yes Lily did believe that. Percy may have heard this news and immediately hoped that he could reconnect with some member of his family, because he likely was lonely. That didn't excuse what he'd just told to do to her son.
Percy expected Ron to read this with some surprise, no doubt Ron would say that Potter was Dumbledore's favorite,
"Why would that be his response?" Sirius scowled with anger as well as confusion for that one. Harry never once asked for that treatment.
but Dumbledore may not be in charge around school much longer anyways if those in charge had a more accurate account of Potter's behavior had things settled as Percy expected them to.
With every line Percy had written Remus continued growing more confused and angry, this one in particular caught him off guard. What did he mean Dumbledore wouldn't be in charge of the school anymore? That was an oddity in itself, he'd been the headmaster for generations already and in a most likely biased opinion the most reputable of them all. That didn't quite knock out the anger of the second part, more accurate his arse. Ron was Harry's best friend for years, he'd have the most accurate portrayal of Harry more than anyone, shouldn't this be his say so.
Percy wouldn't enlighten this statement further, but Ron should check out the Daily Prophet tomorrow for more details to see where the wind was blowing, and to spot himself along the way.
"Why am I not surprised this whole letter was planned out just to brag about himself winding up in the paper somehow," Sirius snarled.
Percy persisted, seriously Ron
"He doesn't get to use my name," Sirius huffed, to which he was ignored by all this time.
did not want to be on the same branch with Potter anymore or it would damage his future, and this was speaking of life after school. Ron surely knew of Potters disciplinary hearing, and he had not come out of it looking good. He'd gotten off on a technicality, and many of the Wizengamot still found him guilty.
"Guilt of what!?" James thundered. "He saved his own damn life plus his useless cousin! What were they even trying to prove during that shame of a trial? That he cast a Patronus Charm for shits and giggles!"
"You should never argue with a stupid person, they'll just drag you down to their level and beat you with experience." Remus snipped.
It was best for Ron to sever ties with Potter, the earlier the better, even if he did become violent. If Ron had any worries he was encouraged to go see Umbridge, a delightful woman who would be happy to help.
Lily did not get that out as if an intelligible person had said it, more like repeating the words of someone hit with a babbling curse. It made no sense in or out of context.
This led into his next bit of advice, which he'd hinted at above,
"Hinted implies subtly," James snorted with disgust.
that Dumbledore would not remain in charge at school long, and Ron should be thinking of his future with the Ministry. So far Umbridge had been getting very little cooperation from the staff and the Ministry was striving to fix this, again see the Prophet tomorrow, and those who were on Umbridge's side could be well placed for Head Boy ship not long later.
"Climb as far up her brown nose as you can and make a comfy nest with the rest of her eggs," Sirius mocked.
Percy did tack in an apology about how he was sorry he couldn't see Ron over the summer,
"Bet he wouldn't care one bit if he didn't know you were a Prefect," Sirius snapped.
and it did pain in how he disliked criticizing his parents, but what with the riff raff they kept up with like Sturgis Podmore, and other petty criminals, he was lucky the Minister didn't see him in the same light.
James looked ready to light the book on fire any moment now. Percy had successfully insulted three people he cared about in one go! It took a lot of restraint on his part to remind himself Percy was still a child right now who shouldn't be transfigured into a pumpkin.
He was very gracious he'd disassociated himself with the likes of Dumbledore's crowd and promised Ron could still do the same and not to let family ties blind him. He'd be ready to accept their apology whenever they were ready and realized their mistakes.
"If both sides keep standing around waiting for an apology instead of doing something, this war is going to be harder than I was thinking," Sirius grumbled as he remembered his own words.
He signed off with the plea to think this all over, particularly the bit about Potter, and congratulated him one last time on becoming a prefect.
"Burn that Harry. Burn that and shove the sod right up that Humongous Big Heads nose." James said at once with conviction.
"It's Ron's letter," Harry sighed, "I think he should get the right."
"That's fair," Sirius acknowledged.
When Harry was done, he reread one bit to make sure he got it right, before turning to Ron and said if he wanted to sever ties with him, he promised he wouldn't get violent.
The boys at least garnered a laugh for Harry's sarcasm at that, while Lily sighed deeply. She wished that hadn't been played off as a joke, but she supposed it was better than Harry getting mad at Ron's brother, and taking it out on Ron, which with his temper lately she wouldn't have even been surprised.
Ron jerked the letter away nastily at once, calling him the biggest prat on earth as he ripped the parchment up into tiny little scraps and tossed it into the fire.
"Less satisfying than up the nose," James sighed.
"But a proper in the moment response," Remus smiled.
Then he turned dismissively back to their homework.
Lily managed almost a happy giggle for this display, thinking Percy should send Ron more stupid letters if that's what got him to focus on his homework more.
Remus almost agreed, finding his utter dismissal of this perfect.
Hermione was looking at Ron with an odd expression on her face.
"What kind of odd look?" Lily asked with a torn expression, she really hoped Hermione wasn't going to try and give Ron a pep talk or something, it wouldn't do him any good right now.
"I think it was something close to surprise, maybe admiration," Harry tried to smile. "Ron wouldn't ever show it, but what Percy did cut all his siblings as bad as his parents, and so when Hermione saw Ron just turn right back to homework after what Ron considered further spurn must have gotten to her."
Lily couldn't help a small smile now as she kept going. It didn't make that letter feel any better, but it was nice to see Hermione acting like their friend rather than mother for a change.
Then she stunned them both by demanding their homework from them so she could correct what they'd done.
"Doesn't she usually do that anyways when you're done?" Sirius chuckled.
"She'd certainly been threatening not to do it enough lately we were starting to believe her," Harry smiled in relief.
He asked if she was serious?
"No, I am," Sirius reminded as if anyone had forgotten.
Then he began thanking her at once, calling her a life saver and what could he say to-
She said he could say he wouldn't wait to do all his homework till the last minute ever again, while looking on in amusement.
"They're not even done with them though," James reminded.
"Still better to get her help while she was in a good mood, half the work done," Harry cheered, though the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.
Harry thanked her as well as he pushed his away in relief, letting himself sink down and gaze at the fire quietly for a moment with a sick feeling resting in him as the remains of Percy's letter curled away in the fire.
They all frowned as they realized Harry had taken that much more personally than they'd realized, he'd even played off the moment in here well enough they'd thought he'd just completely brushed it off, but clearly not.
Somehow reading all that in Percy's writing pressed in on him for the first time his standing with the majority of the Wizarding World. He'd known Percy for years, had spent summers at his house and shared a tent with him at the World Cup, Percy had been the one to award him full marks during the second task last year, but now the same guy found him unbalanced and violent.
"This is the same guy who went sobbing out into the freezing lake to check on his kid brother," Remus huffed in agreement. "How did he go from that to dismissing his whole family in so little time?"
"You've got me?" James sighed deeply.
Harry felt sudden empathy for his godfather, whom the whole world also believed had done something he'd had no part of.
Sirius hummed in agreement with that, even if he couldn't be there for Harry in the ways he wanted to be, he found comfort even the idea he could relate to Harry made him feel better.
Then Harry sat up straight in his chair as he gazed at the fire in confusion, surely he'd imagined it because he was thinking of his godfather.
"Oh, is Sirius making another appearance in the common room?" James asked as if confirming the date.
"Now he even has a safe place to do it from," Remus agreed almost as if bored at the idea.
Truth be told it made both of them smile and more anxious at the same time. They couldn't easily forget where Sirius was in Harry's time and found him talking to Harry face to face would surely make him feel better for even a moment.
Hermione was done with both homeworks, haven written out a draft for Ron to use as his conclusion,
"Okay, that was blatantly doing homework for you," Lily snorted.
"I guess she truly was taking pity on us," Harry chuckled.
Ron insisted she was the most wonderful person he'd ever met,
"I think this is the most he's complimented her in their entire friendship, she may be falling over from shock," Sirius chuckled.
and if he was ever rude to her again-
She'd know he'd gone back to normal, Hermione finished for him with a smile.
"There's the proper response," James snickered.
Then she turned on Harry's, saying he must have heard Sinestra wrong, as Europa was covered in ice, not mice.
"Sometimes I really can't tell when Hermione's being sarcastic," Remus smirked, "she must know that was a slip of the quill."
Harry just grinned and didn't reply.
Harry was no longer listening as he crouched down in front of the fireplace, watching it steadily now as he told his friends what he'd just seen. It wasn't that surprising, as Sirius had appeared her once before to talk to him, but Hermione was concerned at once at the idea, saying it would be too- Sirius?!
"But I'm always serious, how could I be anything else?" Sirius cackled.
"She was actually saying your name you twit," Lily ground out, cursing that man's parents for cursing their child and everyone else in his life with this never-ending gag.
She gasped his name in surprise as Sirius' face sat among the logs, grinning at them.
"You already sound so pleased with yourself," James snickered.
"I honestly believe I've been looking forward to this all week, Harry's letter just happened around the same time," Sirius grinned.
He began to say he'd been worried this wouldn't work, he'd been checking every hour and there'd always been someone else in here.
Harry half laughed that he'd been popping his head in here once an hour? Hermione anxiously demanded what if someone had seen him.
"I'm sure you'd have heard about it, and the twins would have helped to laugh the whole thing off by saying they'd slipped something in there, or any number of things." Remus rolled his eyes at her paranoia.
Sirius shrugged off that some first year may have gotten a start from him, but she'd probably just thought he was a funny shaped log.
"Honestly, in a school full of magic, a funny shaped log wouldn't have lingered in her mind in the time it took for her to get to the stairs," James agreed.
Hermione still said this was too big a risk for him to be-
Sirius cut her off by telling her to stop sounding like Molly, Sirius was just trying to respond to Harry's letter.
Hermione turned her accusing voice on Harry now, as he hadn't told them about this.
"And that's exactly why he didn't," Sirius scoffed at Hermione's never ending complaints.
Harry admitted he'd forgotten, as the instance with Cho had pushed the rest of that morning from his mind, before turning back to Sirius and saying no one could have gotten anything from that letter anyways.
"She doesn't believe anyone can do anything without her help," James rolled his eyes.
Sirius agreed at once it had been very good, beginning on that with Harry's scar.
Ron tried to ask what that meant, but Hermione shushed him and they'd tell later.
"I understand the need for the haste, but why hadn't you told Ron about this already?" Lily asked.
"Same reason I'd yet to tell Hermione about my detentions," Harry shrugged uneasily as he brought this back up himself but still explained, "hadn't come up until I was caught at it."
"You have that philosophy far too often," Remus huffed.
Sirius agreed he understood this couldn't be fun for Harry, but it had hurt like this before now.
Harry agreed it had just concerned him it had been extra bad around that Umbridge woman, but Sirius had no delusions she was a Death Eater.
Harry said she was foul enough to be one, while Sirius gave a wry smile and said the world wasn't split into good people and Death Eaters.
"I always want to faint in surprise when you pass on such words of wisdom," Lily smiled at him while Sirius grinned and Harry took a moment to register the truth of those words he'd never considered before.
Sirius did agree that he already knew of her reputation though, Remus went on enough about her.
That caught their attention with surprise, Lily going on eagerly to see what that foul woman had been saying about her friend, and hopefully some colorful recanting of what Remus had to say about it.
Harry asked in surprise how Lupin knew her, remembering Umbridge's comments about half-breeds during their first class.
James's mouth dried considerably as he did remember this. She hadn't been subtle in taking a shot at Remus, and he already felt a nasty fear of where this was going.
Sirius explained not personally, but she'd drafted some anti-werewolf legislation two years ago that made it impossible for him to get a job.
Lily spluttered with indignation nearly before she'd gotten that out, and that had nothing on his two friends. They already had every reason in the world wanting that sherbet-reject to shrivel up and die, turns out they should have been going for her head all those years ago. Was this in fact finally the reason Remus had left his post? That would have happened right around the time he left Hogwarts, when Snape had released his name as working at Hogwarts!
Instead of shrinking away whenever this topic came up, Remus looked a tad concerned for this news, and not just for himself. It was very rare to find any other werewolves who even tried to maintain a normal lifestyle with a job and such, but with this bit of legislation being passed it was as if they were being told not to even bother with that. He'd never complained of the restrictions of the jobs they could get because he recognized the danger in his own kind, but was the Ministry moving even further away in trying to phase out his whole kind, truly turn them into no more than animals that needed to be killed. How could they ever show how normal they could be if no one gave them a chance? Then he reminded himself what he'd long since came to the conclusion of, no one cared.
Harry remembered how much shabbier Lupin looked these days and his dislike of Umbridge deepened even further.
Remus blinked in a bit of surprise for that. From what he'd gathered, Harry hadn't much to do with him in his own time, so the fact that he had such a strong reaction like that really did warm him up a bit. He really hadn't thought it possible for a long time anyone outside his friends could see him as any more than a monster, but first Lily and now Harry...
Hermione demanded what that woman had against werewolves, and Sirius said it was all part-humans, she'd even tried to round up all merpeople and have them tagged a few years back, imagine wasting the energy on such things when toe rags like Kreacher were about.
"I'm sure she doesn't like them any better," Remus scoffed to try and lighten back up the mood, at least trying to pretend as he always did he hadn't heard a word about this. "House-elves do have a certain human shape but aren't, so they're in the-"
Sirius elbowed him in the ribs to get him to shut up, no one wanted to hear him play this off right now.
Ron laughed but Hermione looked offended, trying to tell Sirius if he'd just make an attempt, she was sure Kreacher would respond.
Sirius knew he'd rather lose his dessert privileges than indulge in any such nonsense, and wished Hermione would quit harping on that.
Harry thought the same, if only because it left such a tight feeling of unease in him he felt the urge to cry and refused to understand why.
Dumbledore did say-
Sirius blatantly ignored her and asked what Umbridge's lessons were like, was she training them to kill half-breeds?
"No, that would actually be useful," Remus snorted lightly, before wincing and wishing he hadn't spoken at all for the nasty look his friends gave him for that.
Harry said no while Hermione looked affronted her defense had been cut off.
"You'd really think at some point she'd realize, no one cares!" James threw his hands up in exasperation.
She wasn't letting them use magic at all.
This didn't surprise Sirius though, as he'd heard that the Minister was growing more paranoid by the day and no longer wanted the students trained in combat.
Harry was stunned, asking why, did she think they were forming their own army?
Sirius agreed that was exactly what his delusions feared, the man thought Dumbledore was amassing his own force to overthrow the Ministry.
"I've never heard something so idiotic in my life," James deadpanned, "and I've lived with these two for seven years."
"I, really wish Sirius was making a joke right now," Lily agreed.
There was a pause before Ron stated that was the stupidest thing he'd heard in his life, and he'd been around Luna Lovegood.
"Was that supposed to be a compliment, or-" Sirius began in confusion before Remus shushed him.
Hermione was outraged this was the reason behind their lack of education, while Sirius elaborated Fudge was convinced Dumbledore would do anything to get power, it's only a matter of time before he has the man arrested at this point.
"That'll be the day," Remus scoffed while Harry frowned at the idea, he really didn't like the sound of that.
Harry asked if he knew anything about this big deal that was supposed to be in the Prophet tomorrow Percy had dropped hints about, but Sirius said he hadn't a clue, no one had actually been around all week.
Lily's voice shook with pity there, to which Sirius was both grateful for, and wanted to make some snide comment at her for. Thankfully she kept going loudly before he could act on either.
Sirius' voice had quickly turned bitter as he said this, so Harry instead asked about Hagrid.
Sirius didn't seem too concerned, saying while he was supposed to be back by now and they weren't sure why he wasn't,
"Tactless as ever," Lily grumbled at him, ignoring her own increasing worry at those confirmed fears. Surely if this was a real problem though Sirius would be more concerned, he at least had a like for Hagrid even without knowing what all he'd done for Harry. This wasn't necessarily a death sentence if someone didn't come back from a mission on schedule...
but upon seeing their stricken faces Sirius quickly said Dumbledore wasn't worried about it, so everything was surely fine. Maxime had gone with him, and she'd arrived back on schedule and simply said they'd split up on the journey home, there was no reason to suggest a real problem.
"I think we need to have a refresher course on those talks about reassuring people Sirius," Remus groaned, as that had helped no one at any point it seemed.
The three exchanged a still anxious look, but Sirius insisted for them not to go around asking questions and drawing attention to this.
"We haven't been," Harry said just a touch indignantly, "you were the only one I'd asked."
"Well I know that now," Sirius rolled his eyes in exasperation, causing Harry to back down.
Then Sirius flipped topics to asking when their next Hogsmeade weekend was, he wanted to show up and-
"And just why would you think that would cheer them up?" Lily began anxiously as she fought the compulsion to stick a muzzle on Sirius. "You were already spotted once, what makes you think it a good idea to have another go?"
"Stop being such a worry wart Lily," James scoffed at once. "He needs out of that place more, even if it is at sporadic times like Hogsmeade weekends."
"Where was this attitude last year?" Remus demanded uneasily, this conversation just kept getting worse with everything his last best friend said.
"Last year Sirius was on the run, getting all the air he needed, so I was just worried about him covering his tail," James scowled at Remus for the lack of backup. "Now I'm worried what he'll do if he doesn't get out more."
Sirius longed for the time where he could have basked in having a whole conversation about him, now he just looked miserable and didn't account for anyone, he just wanted to forget about the existence of that house and his whole damn future.
Harry and Hermione shouted no at once, Hermione quickly saying the article they'd found this morning. Sirius brushed this off, saying they were always guessing something and it never panned out.
"I mean, I suppose so long as Kingsley is still pushing for Australia or something, whatever Malfoy said could be brushed off easily enough," Remus tried to say with some encouragement that fell flat to all worried parties.
Harry insisted Lucius had spotted him near that train, and what if Draco did in Hogsmeade?
"Then don't go near Malfoy," James scoffed. "Honestly, Padfoot knows every hole of that area better than the local cats."
"Doesn't make the risk any less," Lily sighed without too much of a fight, recognizing whatever Sirius wanted to do, he'd do it with or without anyone's support.
Sirius scowled at them before saying he wouldn't, he'd just thought they'd like to get together.
"You really are breaking my heart here pup," Sirius tried for a flippant tone while Harry eyed his godfather with great worry. Ever since he'd left that platform, Harry had an ever growing fear of the next time Sirius left that house, leaving his tongue paralyzed and unable to respond...
Harry insisted he just didn't want to see him back in Azkaban!
Sirius' face went flat blank as he said Harry was less like his father than Sirius had thought, the risk would have been what made it fun for James.
Sirius actually recoiled, suddenly looking ready to burst into tears any moment as he had concrete proof. Merlin's sake, he really had lost his mind if he thought even for a moment he'd been talking to James-
Lily had just huffed and rolled her eyes at the stupid comment, she didn't even seem to realize Sirius had taken it so personally while James kept his eyes firmly on his best mate now.
Remus reacted on instinct by smacking Sirius upside the head for that, muttering, "would you rather him be like you, not thinking before you speak."
Sirius hardly seemed to realize what had been spoken as he whispered back, "that hurt you know."
Remus wasn't sure if he meant the comment, or the blow, as he rolled his eyes and said, "I didn't damage anything important."
"All of me is important!" He shot back with almost a pout, managing to keep himself distracted at least for a few seconds while Lily finished.
Harry tried to say something else, but Sirius said he'd write again whenever Harry could stand the risk, and then he was gone.
Remus was looking from James to Sirius uneasily, as Lily looked up to indicate she was done and seemed to realize for the first time that had bothered the two, so Remus began ardently, "wonder if we should take a quick break again. I'm sure someone should check on the baby's dipper, and I-"
"Yeah, that's great Moony. Padfoot, can I borrow you for a moment," James snapped, not waiting for any preamble as he made his way for the stairs and Sirius followed reluctantly.
HPHPHPHPHPHP
* This one gets under my skin out of confusion. Either Harry has completely forgotten the fact that he was the one who had to trick Malfoy into giving Dobby that sock, otherwise he could have just done it himself and set Dobby free if that was his intentions, or he really thought Hermione found a way around this law and it's just never addressed. This is a real problem with the narrative between two and five that is never brought up.
**I know that's a really subjective number, considering by most math there would only be about 300, but JK has said there were actually almost a thousand. I personally more invasion somewhere in the middle, though I imagine the population slump from the war and other variables actually makes the number fluctuate between those two numbers throughout the years, so who really knows.
*** This moment genuinely annoys me for two reasons. The twins specifically say the purple half is the 'cure' pill for their works, and this is proven in the very last chapter where they gave purple pills to the first years to wake them up, so they did indeed give the right pill. Problem two with this, is then, what do you mean you gave her the wrong pill? Either you color swapped a batch in which case you lot are far more idiotic than I thought for all your hard work doing this, or this is just some serious (shut up Sirius!) errors with the flowing work. Twice in one chapter man...
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theflowercrownlady · 3 years ago
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Writers Month 2021 #4 - Playwright
Writers Month (August) 2021 Day #4 Word: Play / Setting: Historical/Modern Fandom: Ikemen Vampire Characters: MC (I call her snack, but she doesn't have a canon name-- and I don't like using Y/N… One day I'll choose a name for her, I guess)... And Shakespeare. Pairings: Very subtle Shakespeare x MC Warnings: I don’t know… UST? Lol, so subtle it needs no warning. 
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"This is useless!" She threw the papers away, banging her forehead against the desk.
She had a whole cast, a whole group of talented actors, stage designers, assistants, a benevolent boss, and all she could do was…
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing!"
She heard a low chuckle behind her, and she straightened up with a jolt. When she turned her head, she found the real playwright closer than she expected.
His steps had been almost completely quiet.
"Is the play giving you trouble?"
His tone was perfectly amiable, but she shook her head from side to side.
"Which play? There is no play! That's the problem."
He sent her a curious glance, while she tried to stretch her neck towards a different direction, attempting to put some distance between them. She could nearly feel the light brown strands of hair, brushing her cheek. But it was nothing but a ghost touch, the idea of a touch; he used to cause that reaction on her. A strange feeling of longing, an almost intoxicating need to feel his touch, paired with a seemingly unexplainable fear.
She tried not to look at his mismatched colored eyes, lest he noticed her embarrassment.
To make matters worse: maybe he had bought a new cologne, because he had a particularly wonderful smell that day.
Then, her eyes found his bandaged hands. She fixed her stare on the cast on his right arm.
"Fret not, lady" he said, noticing her stare. "This hands of mine will be fine again."
"Well, they better get well soon. Couldn't they heal a little faster?" She tried to joke, but the effort felt flat. She lowered her gaze towards the bunch of papers and sighed. "Are you… are you sure…?"
"Why, I am. You'll make a wonderful play, my apprentice. This minor accident has brought some glimpses of fortune. Here you have an opportunity for you. You better get hold of it… Opportunities don't last forever."
She pressed her lips together, eyes downcast, ashamed, and guilty. The whole reason she, a mere apprentice of the craft, was allowed to write a play to be the real deal, was because he, her mentor, had given her the chance. And he has given her the chance because, after such a horrid accident, it would be quite a long time before his hands would be able to write again. And he didn't want to use any other media, nor wanted anybody's help to write his fascinating world of ideas. According to him, only the very same William, or Guillaume, as the artistic world knew him, could portray word by word, on paper, exactly what he wished to convey. Obsolete method, perhaps; not very practical, for the 21st century. But it worked wonders for him.
She sighed again. "I am--"
"Sorry? I'm sure you are."
Such a captivating man he was, smiling an enigmatic smile, terribly enjoying to speak in riddles, or to say ambiguous things. At times, she could see something dark, and deep in his eyes; but then, when she looked again, it was gone. She looked at her with such eyes, more often than not; but, mostly, when he believed she was not looking.
Most of the time, she was. And both her heart and stomach stirred, just thinking about it.
She was suddenly so immersed in her thoughts that she got startled when she felt a touch on her right hand.
"Like this."
He softly covered her hand with his, and made her press the tip of the pen inside the ink. Then he moved her hand again…
"You--! You are not supposed to do that! You are wounded!"
She didn't push him away, solely because of that reason... or so she told to herself. But she dared to glance his way, eyes filled with alarm. He smiled dimly, letting go of her hand.
"I'm not supposed to do that?" He chuckled. "Is my little assistant concerned for me…? She doesn't need to, for my left hand is quite healed already."
"Even so…'
Even so, what?
She blushed and looked at her hand holding the quill-looking-pen. "I really need to get this done, don't I?"
"Indeed" he said, sounding rather pleasant. "But no pressure…"
No pressure, sure, she thought.
She didn't know what else to say, so she tried to force her brain to come up with something. He remained standing there, for a either a few moments, or a few minutes. Finally, she stopped feeling his presence, and realized that he was already walking towards the door.
William "Guillaume", the playwright. Her mentor, little more than an acquaintance, little less than a friend.
There was so much more she wished to know about him.
In a sudden inspiration, she wrote just that.
And those were basically the opening lines, of her first theater play presented to the public-- although she did change the name and the profession of the mentioned man, of course…
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A/N: Given that words can have more than one meaning, well… This came to my mind. I kinda hate Will… but he’s also kinda hot, ngl (;⌣̀_⌣́)
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