#and the bottom of her locker is CARPETED with them

[windblume]

seeing the texts my friends get from their boyfriends makes me want to set myself on fire🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

[gavisuntiedboot]

Can you do Gavi as a Dom w a degrading k!nk where he gets really frustrated and snaps after she's acting like a brat/teasing him at a black tie event (srry this is SO specific :'))

A/N: Holy month is over, back to the depths of depravity. Also, do y'all have a group chat where you just together and come to a consensus for request ideas?? Like my inbox is 40% "PLEASE GAVI DOM", 40% "PLEASE GAVI SUB", 15% "UPDATE UR FUCKING SERIES", and 5% everything else.

SMUT!! SMUTTTTT!! KIDS GO AWAYYYY

warnings: very rough smut. Idk how else to describe it just be warned !!

~

Black Satin

"Don't be nervous, mi amor. All you need to do is smile for some pictures and clap when the speeches end."

You rested your hand gentle on Gavi's thigh, his leg bouncing as he stared outside of the car window at the city passing by. You had grown used to this life - walking red carpets, smiling for cameras, being confident yet humble as interviewers begged the question of who you were wearing. It was just a part of your job. But Pablo, on the other hand, was not accustomed to these events, nor did he really enjoy them. The spotlight was something that caused him a great deal of stress, as he was always nervous about messing up or looking foolish, especially compared to your cool and collected self.

He snapped his gaze away from the window at the sound of your voice, moving from the window to your hand resting on his thigh. He released his lip from between his teeth, taking a deep but shaky breath.

"Not nervous. Just... thinking of what I'm going to say."

You looked in Gavi's eyes with love as you hand moved up slightly, rubbing soothing circles into his thigh. The muscle tensed beneath your fingertips, and he rested his hand on top of yours.

"What are you doing?" He asked, slight suspicion in his voice, but his tone still calm and even. Crossing your legs, you leaning in closer to Gavi, legs touching and your chest pressed against his bicep. He shivered from the feeling of your breath against his ear, whispering softly as to not occupy too much of the driver's attention.

"What do you think I'm doing?" You inched your hand further up his thigh, feeling his grip on your skin tighten. "Or rather, what do you want me to do?"

You weren't normally like this. Private life, in your opinion, should be kept private. PDA, public teasing, risky touches - they weren't something that you often partook in. You preferred to stay classy in public, shy glances and the occasional hand-hold, and leave your more crazy, freaky brat personal to the bedroom. But today, you were missing Gavi's touch more fiercely, a fire burning just beneath the surface of your skin that only Pablo could extinguish. And it made you care less than normal - prevented you from caring at all.

Gavi almost went into medical shock upon discovering your bedroom personality. You were not the most loud or explicit person in your day-to-day, but when he undressed you for the first time, planning to lay you against his mattress, wondering if you would be confident enough to let a moan or two pass between your lips, he found his own back pressed to the pillows. Before he knew it, there was a hand in his hair and another around his neck. Pressed against the headboard, Gavi's thoughts raced: what had possessed you? Your teeth found purchase in his bottom lip, heat pooling in your stomach as you heard Pablo moan at the feeling.

"Come on, Pablito. Show me how good I make you feel."

Since that day, Pablo had been in top cardiac shape to keep up with your high sex drive and wild bedroom personality. Most days he would walk into the locker room with dark purple bruises on his lower stomach and V-line, subtle scratch marks littering his throat and collar bones. The boys had not believed his shy confession that they were caused by you. They couldn't have been. How could the sweet, soft-spoken thing that bit her lip on the sidelines during stressful games cause this much damage?

The proof was here before him, sitting in the seat beside him, a demon draped in black satin, hand caressing his thigh higher and higher while batting perfectly mascara-ed lashes and feigning innocence. Gavi's expression hardened, and he shot you a stern look while you still played dumb. Your lips were close enough to capture between his own, showing you exactly what he thought of your little antics, but he wouldn't give you the satisfaction of making him lose his cool in front of the driver.

As much as you were a surprising brat, Gavi was an even more surprising dom. Unlike on the field, he had a surprisingly long and patient countenance when with you, but when you finally pushed him too far, there was no such thing as mercy. He would edge you for hours, making you recite all the reasons you didn't deserve his touch. He was not afraid to be forceful with you, leaving your skin red and welted as you tried to count through the sobs and heavy breaths, fearful he would make you start over. But Gavi always, without fail, brought you to the highest of highs, leaving you screaming his name repeatedly, the only word still present in the puddle that was your brain.

He turned his head, lips pressed against the shell of your ear, as he whispered back.

"I want you to behave." His eyes met yours once again, displeasure settling into his features. He did not want to discipline you in public, but would if he needed to.

"But what if i don't want to?" You purred in return, moving your hand up to his crotch. Before you could grab him, he gripped your wrist tight and swiftly removed it.

"Not tonight. I'm not playing around with you. If there way any day to be a good girl, it's today. Or else."

~

The red carpet went off without a hitch. You stood on Gavi's arm, smiling brightly and waving as he stood sternly, arm around your waist, wishing the photographers would be done quicker. As the two of you ventured inside, you collided with Alejandro, chests pressed against each other. You rested your hands against the chiseled muscle to stabilize yourself, giving him a perfect view of your cleavage.

"So sorry, Ale. I'll try and be more careful." You said, voice soft as you batted your eyelashes, hands unmoving. Gavi called your name, and you broke your contact with Ale and sauntered over to your boyfriend, who once again returned a protective arm around your waist.

"You think letting my team mate have a free strip tease is behaving?" He asked, voice low and head turned so the cameras couldn't catch the movements of his lips.

"If you want me to behave, we could go to the bathroom right now. I'd behave real well." You giggled out, breasts pressed against his clothed bicep.

"You're acting like a bitch in heat. You need to stop being greedy and wait. Unless you want to get on your knees here on the marble flooring." He said, grip almost painful but not quite. You were getting him riled up - you knew that much was certain. But you wanted to see how far you could take it.

The two of you mingled with several people in the room, you dripping off of Gavi's arm like a crown jewel, him the soldier sworn to protect it. As he engrossed himself in a conversation with his teammates, you slipped off his arm, wandering around looking for another waitress carrying a tray full of champagne. You were quickly approached by several other men, all of them trying to get you to give them the time of day now that your scary dog of a boyfriend wasn't nearby. You laughed as you ignored their advances, but that didn't stop Gavi from pressing up behind you upon finding you in the crowd.

"Ready for dinner?" He asked, voice practically dripping with malice. You followed him to the table, and he refused to release you from his grip, fearful you would scamper off to cause more chaos. Pulling out your chair, he helped you sit, before leaning in and muttering "You're going to fucking get it when we get home," quiet enough for no one else to hear, but loud enough to have you push your thighs together in anticipation. He then sat across from you, believing it the best move after your stunt in the car. He was already plotting how he was going to punish you at the end of the evening, deciding between too little or too much.

Dinner was worse than Gavi could have anticipated. You slipped off your stiletto, slowly drawing your foot up Gavi's leg and resting it atop his bulge, half hard and waiting for more attention. You moved your leg slowly, palming him as he tried to enjoy his second course. The players immediately beside him took some notice of his heavier breathing, but made no comment, enjoying their respective conversations. As the plates were cleared away, Pablo stood abruptly, excusing himself to go to the restroom. You made a move to follow, but he turned to look at you, eyes conveying pure wrath, making you stay in your seat.

With Gavi gone, you turned your attention elsewhere - mainly to the other Pablo sat beside you. Torre filled out his suit jacket nicely, arms snug in the material as he rested his elbows on the table, laughing lightly at the comments made by the other boys. You bit to yourself, something akin to pure evil coursing through your veins as you watched the subtle flexes of muscle under restricting black fabric. A hand on a bicep, an innocent smile.

"Pablo, have you been lifting more weights recently? You look amazing." Followed by a firm grasp of his bicep and a wink - nothing more.

This was the line that got you in a world of trouble.

It was whispered among the guests, jested amongst the boys, and circulated in secretive group chats. Gavi's girl was all up on another Pablo, telling him how good he looked, snowballing (as rumors often do) into reports that she had leaned against him, bare thigh an invitation for his advances. Gavi had broken. He was no longer trying to hide the malintent in his eyes: he was going to make you pay.

~

Nothing could have prepared you for what came next. You expected Pablo to turn cold, ignore you after you flirted with his namesake, but the opposite was true. He stayed at your side, hand firm around your waist as you two mingled with the other guests after dinner. He never let you out of his sight, even walking to the car with you in his grasp.

It started the second the sleek black vehicle pulled out of the parking lot. You were staring out the window, all but giddy. You had finally found the confidence to be a brat in public, and you knew it was about to yield results. He place a hand on your shoulder, drawing your attention, and slowly moved it up to your jaw, thumb playing with your lower lip.

"Enjoy yourself this evening, princesa?"

The deepness in his voice when he got angry was unparalleled by any sound on this earth. Sure you had seen him aggravated in games, when his voice got louder and higher, swearing at other players. But this was a different realm. He spoke slowly and clearly, voice audible but soft. If his usual state was fire and sparks, then this was lava, magma, flowing slowly yet burning even hotter than its flashy counterpart.

You nodded slowly, making a move to lick at his thumb, maybe capture it in your teeth and continue your teasing game. Gavi was rather private, after all, and would never discipline you in front of the poor unsuspecting driver. Or so you thought. No sooner had your tongue made contact with the pad of his finger did you feel the impact on your cheek. The sting and slight burn of the smack had your eyes watering and thighs pushed together. You looked back at Pablo, whose eyes were still dark and lips in their natural downturn.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, thinking you can just act however you like, but you should know better."

Another smack, which caused you to push your thighs even closer together, a gasp of pleasure exiting your lips. The second sound of skin to skin contact had the driver looking in his mirror nervously. He contemplated putting up the partition or intervening if you were hurt. Gavi let out a loud "tch", grabbing you by the jaw and turning your head.

"Look what you've done now. Worrying this poor man whose job is just to drive us, not to deal with your bad behavior. I think you need to show him you're sorry."

The driver heard a soft "I'm sorry" leave your lips, and he opened his mouth to reassure Gavi that it was okay, he had dealt with celebrity clients before, but he was beat to it.

"Oh no, princesa. You need to apologize properly. You think some empty words from your little whore mouth are going to make this better? No, no. Come here."

Hands were on you instantly, lifting you into Pablo's lap. He sat you on his lap, holding your thighs open with his knees. Your hands shot out to cover the barely-there thong that was the only modesty you had left as you were put on display.

"Move your panties to the side. You want to be a slut? Go all the way. Let him see."

The driver was speechless, eyes completely off the road as he watched you slowly and shakily move the black strip of fabric, revealing your shiny core. It was a good thing that it was late and there weren't too many cars.

"P-Pablo, I'm so-"

"Shut the fuck up. These are the consequences of your own actions, baby girl. You have no one to blame but yourself. You were so eager to put on a show for everything with a penis, so go ahead. You're going to fuck yourself with your fingers, nice and slow so mister can watch while driving."

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish. You had thought your antics would get you some rougher man-handling, a little bit of overstimulation - nothing like what was happening now. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, hole clenching around nothing and still on display to this hired driver.

"Pablo please I'm too shy."

"Oh no, you don't get to be shy when it suits you. You wanted to be bold and bratty today. Lets see how far it gets you. Two fingers in, now. Or I'll edge you until you see your fucking maker."

Meeting the eyes of the driver in the mirror once more, you moved your fingers to your clit, circling it gently. This earned you a swat at your soaked pussy from Gavi, who told you to follow the instructions to a tee. Collecting your slick, you pushed your middle and ring finger in, unable to hold back a moan as you finally filled yourself, relief flowing throughout your system. The driver was speeding now, eager to get to a place where he could park and watch you in earnest.

"Slower, princesa. Give this man a proper show to apologize for being a whore in his car."

Your fingers slowed, and you pumped them into yourself deep and hard. Pablo massaged your thighs, sucking deep purple marks into your neck that were just shy from drawing blood. Your mind was swimming, unable to focus on anything except the feeling of Gavi's lips and the stretch of your fingers.

You were on edge when Pablo grabbed your wrist and instructed you to stop. Opening your eyes, you realized you had arrived at his house, the car no longer speeding down the dark roads. Your eyes watered - you had been so close. The driver was bright red, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Gavi moved you off his lap, pulling out his wallet and handing 50 euros to the scarlet man.

"That's half of what I usually tip, but I think you've gotten more than enough compensation tonight."

The car sat in the drive way for a few minutes as you were ushered into the house, one hand around your shoulders and the other unlocking the doors. Once you two were in the bedroom, you heard your next instruction.

"Strip."

You played with the side zipper of your dress, looking up at Gavi through long lashes.

"What if I don't want to?"

His hand was on your throat in a second, pulling you in so that he could look you in the eyes, the hooded gaze caused by lust and anger turning you on more than you thought possible. He pushed you downwards, your knees hitting the floor, as his hand found new purchase in your hair while the other undid his trousers.

"I'm tired of hearing you talk back. You want to use your mouth? Here."

His cock was roughly shoved between your lips, grazing your teeth slightly, but Pablo didn't seem to care. There was no gentle touches or even a chance for you to move. He held your head still, pushing you as far against him as you would go, hearing you cry out and feeling you gag around him, before pulling out and watching you cough and sniffle from the lack of air. He repeated this motion, abusing the back of your throat. Each time he pulled you around his cock again, he pushed you further, until finally the tip of your nose brushed his abdomen. He held you there, head thrown back in bliss as he felt your throat contract around him, your cries and whimpers only making the experience better.

The burn in your throat was vicious, but it was nothing compared to the fire in your lungs from the lack of air. Black spots were forming on the edge of your vision when Pablo finally pulled you off of him, and you choked out a sob, taking in as much oxygen as you could. He loomed over you, unbuttoning his shirt, cock still hanging glistening and red. He undid his cuffs as well, rolling the sleeves, leaving the white material to billow around his toned chest.

You looked at him with blurry, tear-filled eyes. This is what you had been begging for: Gavi so dominant it was almost cruel, but you loved every single second. You crawled over to him, grasping at the material of his trousers, using him as a support for you to stand when he pushed you back to the floor.

"Stay down there, princesa. I'm not done with your punishment."

You were a puddle on the floor, a mess of tears and saliva and arousal, eager to to anything possible to get off.

"Please Pablo please please please touch me. Want you so bad please I need it."

Your sentences were borderline incoherent as you groveled at his feet, so desperate for his touch you thought you would burst into flames. He walked past you, taking a seat on the edge of the large bed. He beckoned you over, and once again you crawled over to him in the dress you had refused to shed.

"You need it? Of course. How can a cum dump like you live if she's not getting her pussy stretched out? Pathetic. You don't deserve it now, baby, not after the way you acted. So ungrateful and impatient. If you had waited until we got home, you could have had my tongue, my fingers, my cock. Now?" He moved one foot, still clad in leather dress shoes, towards you.

"Get yourself off on my fucking shoe. That's all you deserve, slut."

You had lost all sense and ability to think. Hiking up your skirt, you removed your miniscule thong completely and swiftly sat on top of Gavi's foot, moaning out instantly just from the contact. You rocked yourself back and forth, embarrassingly slick, while you muttered thanks under your breath.

"Look at you, making a mess all over me. You just can't control yourself, can you? You just have to keep getting fucked, over and over - you're never satisfied. Such a hungry little cunt you have there." He said as he flexed his foot, making you gasp out loud at the increased pressure. You kept going, gibberish and Pablo's name falling from your lips.

"Go on, slut. Keep going. Cum just like that - getting yourself off on my fucking shoe."

And you did. You went faster, riding with reckless abandon, no care for how deeply humiliating it was to be cumming this way. But you chased your high, crying out when it crashed over you, and you fell against Gavi, clinging to his leg for stability. You continued to rut against him, riding out your high to the fullest. Coming down from the bliss, your shimmering eyes turned towards Gavi.

“Thank you, Pablo.”

Hand careering your jaw, Pablo held your face gently.

“Aw, my pretty little thing. How cute that you think you’re done.”

~

You knew you should have just taken off that God forsaken dress when he told you to. But of course not - you had to continue to talk back and see how far you could push it.

Pablo had pulled you off the ground, pushing you against the bed and unzipping the dress. He would usually rip it in half, eager to touch you, but he was in no rush. He moved you slowly in your post-orgasmic state, bringing your hands behind your back and tying them together with the gathered fabric. After landing a harsh smack in your ass, he walked out of the room, leaving you bound and face down on the mattress. You wanted to cry out for him, but feared invoking any more of Pablo’s wrath.

He came back in with his torture device: a Hitachi wand. You all but screamed when the wand hit your still puffy clit. The vibrations were intense, sending shock waves through you that were equal parts pleasure and pain.

“Pablo, s’too much. Please I can’t.”

A laugh was heard behind you, drowning out the buzzing sound for a moment. He grabbed you by your bound hands, pulling you up to sit against him. You were grateful for the few seconds of relief from the Hitachi. You were now rested against Gavi’s chest, his skin and shirt a contrast to your sweaty back. He pushed your thighs open with one hand, resuming the assault on your abused cunt.

“Oh sweet thing, yes you can. You’re a good little slut aren’t you? Want to make your papi happy don’t you? Gonna do what I say, pretty girl?”

You were in pain. The pleasure was short circuiting your mind. You wanted to say no, it was enough, you had learned your lesson. But your lips betrayed you.

“Yes, yes so good. I’m good. I’ll be good for you. All for you.”

Pablo brought his free hand up to caress your breast, playing with your sensitive nipples. Your second orgasm came quickly, and Gavi pulled the toy away, pushing you back onto your stomach on the mattress once again. You waited to feel the fabric on your wrists loosen, but it never came. Instead, you felt Pablo pull your hips up so that he could access your poor pussy. You didn’t even have a second to protest before a wet stripe was licked up your slit.

“Papi please no more I can’t!” You were properly crying at this point, breathing hard and tears flowing without pause. The overstimulation was too much. Spots started to form on your vision, and you had no thoughts in your brain other than the feeling of Gavi’s tongue against you.

“When will you learn that this isn’t about you, little girl? This is about me. You’ve been whetting my appetite all day, and now you’re telling me not to eat?”

Three sharp smacks to your ass.

“Absolutely not. I’ll feast until I’m fucking full. I don’t care if you pass out - I’m going to be satisfied.”

And he kept his promise. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked like he was trying to obtain your soul. He alternated to running his tongue all around you, driving you to the absolute brink of insanity.

“Papi.. papi I - cumming, again, I-“

“Don’t you dare.”

You couldn’t believe what was happening to you. Gavi was eating you like you were the last morsel on earth, and you weren’t allowed to cum. You began moving your hips, trying to increase the friction against Gavi’s face. You were transcending, ready to cum for a third time and finally ascend to a different plane.

“Please Pablo.”

“Pablo? Me? Or your new fuck buddy?” He asked, shoving two fingers into your soaked hole, causing you to scream. Fuck the neighbors. Fuck everything that wasn’t Gavi bringing you to paradise.

“You, you you papi you I want you- fuck! Please.”

“Who does this whore cunt belong to?”

“You papi!”

“Who else can fuck you this good?”

“No one! Only you. Please, papi, harder.”

Grabbing you by the hair, he pulled you off the mattress. Drool spilled from your lips, tears staining your cheeks as you whimpered in need. He looked you dead in the eye, taking in your fucked out and over stimulated look.

“That’s fucking right. Tell me baby: what are you willing to do for papi’s cock?”

You were so far gone, you just started speaking, words barely making any sense.

“Anything. Any-hnm Anything you want papi. I’ll do anything. I’m yours to fuck and throw around whenever you want. Want you so bad. Please. I don’t deserve it but please give me your cock.”

Pulling you into him, Pablo placed a searing kiss to your lips.

“That’s a good fucking girl.”

Placing you on his cock, he bounced you on his lap, your hands still restrained as you got pounded into. Your body burned and aches from the exertion, but you were drinking in every moment. You buried your face in Pablo’s neck, whimpering and moaning, as he brought a hand around to play with your clit. You were cumming after the first three flicks of your clit, crying out and slumping into Gavi further.

“Come one, princesa, I’m almost there. You’ve done so well for me. So fucking perfect. Love you so much baby. Make me cum.”

You clenched around him at the words, and he spilled inside you, finally slowing and releasing you from his bruising grip. You were marked all over, laying face down as the exhaustion crept in. A minute after Gavi untied your hands, you drifted to sleep, naked with his seed dripping out of you slowly.

~

The following morning, you awoke cuddled into Gavi’s bare chest, his fingers caressing your hair gently. Your legs were sore, making you groan slightly. You felt Pablo’s lips pressed to your forehead.

“Good morning, princesa. Sleep well?”

“Like a corpse.”

You both giggled lightly just staring at each other lovingly, enjoying the morning afterglow. Pablo’s phone rang, and he answered the line.

“Hello? Yes, speaking…. Wait what? But.. yeah okay. No problem. Charge it to my card on file. Take care.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Car company from yesterday. Driver apparently ran three reds on our way home.”

~~

A/N: GUYYYYSSSSS I SUBMIT MY THESIS TONIGHTTTTTTTT IM SO EXCITED!!! I’ll keep y’all posted on when I actually do it. So close to grad I’m scared but excited. Anyways, like, comment, reblog, give feedback - the works. Love ya!! <<33

[chrisitsraining]

btw heres a few excerpts from umbrella conspiracy that mention jills past and her father

When she’d first moved to Raccoon, she’d been under a lot of stress, feeling uncertain about the transfer, not even sure if she wanted to stay with the S.T.A.R.S. She was good at the job, but had only taken it because of Dick; after the indictment, he’d started to pressure her to get into another line of work. It had taken a while, but her father was persis-tent, telling her again and again that one Valentine in jail was one too many, even admitting that he was wrong to raise her the way he had. With her training and background, there weren’t a whole lot of op-tions—but the S.T.A.R.S., at least, appreciated her skills and didn’t care how she came by them. The pay was decent, there was an element of risk she’d grown to enjoy. ...In retrospect, the career change had been surprisingly easy; it made Dick happy, and gave her the opportunity to see how the other half lived. Still, the move had been harder on her than she’d realized. For the first time since Dick had gone inside, she’d truly felt alone, and working for the law started to seem like a joke—the daughter of Dick Valentine, working for truth, justice, and the Ameri-can way. 

.

Her own locker held a number of used paperback true crime novels, a toothbrush, floss, breath mints, and three hats. On the door was a small mirror and an old, frayed photo of her and her father, taken when she was a child and they’d gone to the beach one summer. As she’d quickly thrown the Alpha gear together, she decided that she’d redecorate when she had the free time; anyone looking through her locker would think she was some kind of dental freak.

.

It had been just under five minutes since their last contact with Bravo, they’d made excellent time... so where the hell was Valentine? He [Wesker] hadn’t interacted with her much since she’d come to Raccoon, but her file was a rave review. She’d gotten high recommendations from everyone she worked with, praised by her last captain as highly intelligent and “unusually” calm in a crisis. She’d have to be, with her history. Her father was Dick Valentine, the best thief in the business a couple of decades back. He’d trained her to follow in his footsteps, and word had it that she had done quite well until Daddy had been incarcerated... Prodigy or no, she could stand to buy a decent watch.

.

Only fools accept the obvious and go no further; use your brain, Jilly.

Jill smiled a little; it was her father talking, remind-ing her of the training she’d had before the S.T.A.R.S. One of her earliest memories was hiding in the bushes outside the rickety old house in Massachusetts that her father had rented for them, studying the dark, empty windows as he explained how to properly “case a prospect.” Dick had made it into a game, teaching her over the next ten years all the finer points of breaking and entering, everything from how to re-move panes of glass without damaging them to walk-ing on stairs so they didn’t creak—and he’d also taught her, again and again, that every riddle had more than one answer. 

also this is how shes introduced 

JILL WAS ALREADY LATE FOR THE BRIEFING when she somehow managed to drop her keys into her cup of coffee on the way out the door. There was a muted ting as they hit the bottom, and she paused in mid-stride, staring in disbelief at the steaming ceramic mug, the thick stack of files she carried under her other arm slid smoothly to the floor. Paper clips and sticky notes scattered across the tan carpeting. “Ah, shit.”

[chrisevansredbelt]

Just a Stranger

pairing: mmmm like ceo!frank castle x stripper!reader

warning: no smut today i’m sorry but this is a cute little story starter no? suggestive themes, semi lap dance.

summary: your regular customer hasn’t visited in weeks. but he comes back with a proposition for you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*･ﾟ☆

Sighing to yourself, you begin recounting your money, losing count after hearing the door to the locker rooms slam. Muttering the numbers under your breath, you just about finish your stack of dollar notes before getting tapped on the ass.

You would’ve clocked your fist straight into their face had you not heard their heels pattering throughout the room. Spinning around, you find your dear friend and colleague Natasha.

You smile up at her and before you can greet her, she speaks first. Resting her ass against the counter, she smiles tellingly down at you in your seat, “You’ve got a visitor.”

You immediately knew what that meant. Hell, every girl that worked here knew what that meant and you wouldn’t be surprised if a few regular customers even knew as well.

Stuffing all your money into the safety of your money bag and tying it shut, you quickly fix up your hair and makeup. Natasha just snorts at you, leaving you to it as she goes back out onto the main stage.

You practically reapplied your whole makeup, having worked your ass off on the poles last and bar tonight, you were dishevelled. And it was no help that it was some guys 21st birthday and he’d rounded all his friends and dads to come join him in his celebration. As good as the money was, you hate 21st birthday celebrations. They’re just a bunch of horny college kids doing sport and their dads are no better (just hotter).

Slipping your heels back on, you don’t even care for the ache of your feet. Before you leave, you grab the key from the hook above the door and practically skip your way over to the extra extra private room.

The private rooms for private dances are all on the bottom floor. However, this special room that you need to hike the spiral staircase to get to, is a much more private room for much more private activities.

It’s not as in use as you may think. The girls here aren’t just willingly offering themselves to anybody. And no amount of money could get a girl up there. No, these rooms are for special customers only. Special customers as in, the men that work under the big man that owns the club, Tony Stark.

He has heaps of men, of all shapes and sizes, and we all love them. They’re basically our colleagues when you think about it, all working under Tony- sometimes on top- depends how he’s feeling.

The upstairs isn’t just a bedroom either, it’s a whole apartment, if you will. Tony throws a few parties there every now and again or if a girl has troubles with her housing then it’s a free bed and breakfast. Tony takes care of us.

You keen in excitement as you reach the top of the stairs, shoving the key into the lock and opening the door.

It’s eerily quiet, but you smell him. You could’ve dropped to your knees, it’s been so long.

You make your way through the usually crowded and dark loft. It was hard to recognise this place after seeing what it looked like during one of Tony’s more intense parties. Strobe lights and filled with smoke. When it wasn’t occupied, it had a warm feeling. Homey, even. The lights were a warm tone, the decor was so inviting and the view of New York from across the manhattan bridge was just a dream.

The click of your heels was made silent by the fluffy carpet and you’re glad, hoping to catch him by surprise because you always loved the way he lit up whenever he saw you.

As you exit the foyer, into the main living area, you spot the back of him sitting comfortably on one of the couches, drink in hand and blunt in the other as he looks out at the view.

Sneaking up behind him, you cover his eyes softly with your hands and feel him jump under your skin.

“C’mon now.” Frank snorts, placing his drink down and his blunt in his mouth to softly grasp your hands in his and remove them from his eyes to see you.

He smiles wider, looking over you, subtly admiring you. It’s been so long.

With both your hands in his grasp, he easily pulls you over the couch and into his lap.

“Hey, stranger.” You sigh as you get comfortable, hands wrapping around behind his neck and playing with the soft strands of hair that tickle your wrist.

As he goes back to retrieve his drink from the table, he scoffs and removed the joint from his mouth, “Stranger?” He asks, blowing the smoke away from your face.

You shrug, sliding your hands down his chest, “You haven’t visited in like a month.” You pout before looking up at him, “You find a replacement for me?”

“Never.” He barely hesitates. Deep down you know it’s true, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t cross your mind in his absence.

Leaning in to, what Frank would think, to kiss his neck, you whisper in his ear, “Liar.” You sneer, “I can smell her on you.”

Your plans to make Frank freak out and beg on his knees for your forgiveness and to tell you you’re the only one he wants fails as he just scoffs. Pulling your face out of his neck, he’s glad to finally see your face again and brings his hand up to give you a pull of his cigarette, “You’re so dramatic.” You wrap your lips around the end of the joint and inhale, “You should try your luck in acting.”

“Mmm, what kind?” You ask suggestively, pulling away and blowing out the smoke, “You could be my colleague.”

“You’re ridiculous.” He shakes his head with a laugh.

“You’re telling me Punisher Porn isn’t what the people want?” You ask jokingly, but also not. You wouldn’t mind doing porn if it were with Frank, “It even sounds cool.”

Totally ignoring your last comment, he just places his blunt in the ash tray on the coffee table and his finished drink beside it as he places his hands over your hips, giving you his full, undivided attention, “Did you miss me?” He asks and you don’t answer straight away. Instead you just shrug, avoiding eye contact as you play with the fabric of his shirt, “C’mon, I missed you.” He nudges your chin up with his rough finger so that you’re forced to look up at him, your lips inches apart, “My favourite girl.”

Just as he leans in you cover his mouth with your hand, “No kissing.” You remind him.

Regular customers aren’t even supposed to touch you, let alone kiss you. And if that’s how you need to treat Frank in order to get him to realise your worth, then so be it.

“Don’t do that to me.” He whines, kissing your hand instead as he pulls it off his mouth and over his chest, “C’mon, you really think I was with another woman?” You don’t answer, instead just shrug yet again, “If I whipped out my balls right now, I promise you they’d be blue.”

“Then where were you?” You ask, starting to give him the benefit of the doubt.

He doesn’t answer straight away. Rather, looks at you for a moment probably to decide whether to lie or to tell the truth… and from his answer, you assume it’s the truth.

“Vegas.” He says cautiously and you roll your eyes, “It was a business trip!”

“I don’t even take private dances anymore for anyone but you and this is how you repay me?” Though it’s sort of said in a joking matter, it can’t be anywhere far from the truth. You truthfully have not taken anymore customers for private dances all because of Frank. He didn’t want to ‘share’ you. Well, you didn’t want to share him either.

“Baby, what do I have to do to convince you that you’re the only one I care about?” He finally pleads, fingers softly digging into your ass, “What time do you finish?”

You’re unable to contain the small smile that plays at your lips, “I’m already off.”

“Come back to my place then.” He asks and for the first time that night, he has you stunned. He’s never asked you to come back to his place before. He’s joked about it- you both have- but it never seemed like it would ever happen, “We can get a pizza or something and I’ll fuck you on every surface in the house.”

There was something very intimate about it all- being invited to Franks house. Sure, you’ve fucked before, but it was always up here in the club. Being fucked in his house where you would probably stay the night and share the same bed until the morning… that you would be more than happy doing every day.

“What d’ya say?”

“I say…” You start off, all blushy and smiley now, “We better hurry otherwise we’ll miss the pizza.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*･ﾟ☆

i’m still working on the bj gif fic don’t worry

[dudeandduchess]

Baseball Player!Kyōjurō x F!S/O: ❌📛🔞Locker Room Fun🔞📛❌ (Modern AU, NSFW Scenario)

Summary: (Y/n) visits her husband during training, and is in for a surprise when he makes the most of things… in the locker room.

Note: After a while of thinking, I decided to finally pick this back up. Also, I didn’t have much time to research, so the description for the stadium’s interior is based solely on my experience. 😅

Warnings: Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Mild D/s Themes, Daddy Kink, Creampie, Hair Pulling, Loud Sex, Mild Sadism, Semi-Public Sex

***

If (Y/n) were to take a guess, she would say that Kyōjurō was doing what he was doing just to tease her. From the way that his ass looked so good in those pants, to the way that he would stretch his arms up over his head and show off his muscles— she had to admit that he looked scrumptious.

Tasty enough to make her bite down on her bottom lip, as she squeezed her legs together to alleviate the need building between her thighs.

But, as far as she knew, Kyōjurō couldn’t have known that she was there— since her visit was supposed to be a surprise. That fact made it so that Kyō wasn’t doing anything on purpose; he was just that naturally sexy.

Especially with the way that his uniform clung to him, and the way that a few strands of his hair peeked out from beneath the cap he wore. Everything about him had (Y/n) fighting back her lust, and she was barely winning.

However, when Kyōjurō spotted her in the stands, he gave her a cheeky grin and wave— as well as a saucy wink— that had her practically swooning in her seat. It was just fortunate that she was good at keeping a poker face, otherwise everyone would have known just how flustered she felt inside.

And with the way that he started stretching his legs, and squatting on the field… (Y/n) swore that Kyōjurō was really trying to get mauled, by her specifically. Unfortunately for him, his wife had more self control than he gave her credit for.

If anything, he was the insatiable one when it came to sex.

So, instead of outwardly feeding into his provocation, (Y/n) merely clenched her thighs tighter together; simultaneously wishing for Kyōjurō’s practice game to drag on, and be over already— because it meant she could either keep on ogling his sexy ass, or she could finally get the kiss that she’d been craving since after he left that morning.

An hour and a half later though, the game was already over with Kyōjurō’s team winning with a two-point lead. Cheers were thrown around, as well as friendly thumps on each other’s shoulders— yet Kyōjurō merely grinned at his teammates and threw a wave over his shoulder, before dashing towards the ground railings and lifting himself up onto the bleacher area with ease.

He even found himself taking the stairs two at a time— like that would help him get to his wife faster. Meanwhile, (Y/n) got out of her seat and met him halfway; arms wide open as her husband wrapped his own arms around her waist and hugged her tightly to his chest.

“I missed you, baby!” And without so much as a care about their spectators, Kyōjurō leaned in and slanted his lips against his wife’s delectable mouth. He even went saucier and opened his lips to snake his tongue between her lips— loving the way that she immediately gave in to his whim.

From below, they could hear whistles and cat calls, yet they paid it no mind. Rather, (Y/n) couldn’t focus on anything else except Kyōjurō’s lips sucking on her tongue, as well as his hands making their way down to her ass. And, unmistakably, she could feel his cock slowly getting hard against her.

“I can tell, Kyō,” (Y/n) answered with a cheeky grin, catching her breath during the reprieve that her husband had given her. “I can help you out with that… at home.”

“I can’t wait that long, (Y/n). I want you so bad,” Kyōjurō whispered heatedly, cupping her ass in his hands and pushing his erection more insistently against her body. He would have given in and just fucked her right there, especially with how tempting she looked from the moment he saw her, but he really wasn’t in the mood to be fined for indecent exposure.

So, as if a lightbulb went on in his head, Kyōjurō put a stopper on his overflowing need for his wife, and blurted out, “I have an idea… but we just have to wait a few minutes.”

“Why do I both love and hate the sound of that?”

“Trust me, baby. You’ll love it.”

***

And not even half an hour later, (Y/n) found herself getting dragged into the underbelly of the stadium; her footsteps echoing against the concrete floors and walls.

Everything was so wide and spacious, with carts going to and fro every once in a while. It was honestly a little daunting, which was why (Y/n) found herself hugging her husband’s arm; on top of already holding his hand.

Kyōjurō also smiled and waved at a few people, even going to accept a few hand shakes and pats on his shoulder from people they passed by. He was the epitome of a golden boy in baseball, that it was literally stated in his contract that he had to keep up a good rapport with his fans.

And (Y/n) couldn’t help but let her thoughts get the better of her— admiring her husband so much, that it made her want him so much more than she did before. Everything in her told her to pounce on him, like he had with her, and she was about to…

That was, until she and Kyōjurō reached a door that led off to a carpeted— and much quieter— area; away from the hustle and bustle of the people outside.

It smelled like disinfectant in there, and a little bit of sweat, which was why she was thankful that Kyōjurō practically ran with her deeper into the room; until they reached the showers. On one side was the communal shower area, and on the other— where her husband was pulling her to— were a few shower cubicles.

Kyōjurō wasted no time then, merely looking around to check if his teammates were already back from their cooldown workouts, before stripping his uniform off and heaping them in a pile right outside the stall.

All the while, (Y/n) could only bite down on her bottom lip as inch upon inch of her husband’s skin was revealed to her. And from the way that his abs looked, down to the way that his muscles moved— everything was making her so wet and needy.

Especially the sight of his big and hard cock.

Before she could stop herself, she had already pounced on him; wrapping her arms around his neck, while he lifted her up and held her up under her thighs. Thankfully, she had conveniently ‘forgotten’ to wear any panties beneath her sundress— as if a part of her just knew that it was going to happen.

Kyōjurō then pressed her back flush against the cold tile in the stall, making her gasp at the sudden temperature change, and making his cock twitch right where it was flush against (Y/n)’s pussy.

“Be quiet, baby, otherwise we’re going to get caught,” the young man teased with a grin, leaning in to kiss his wife’s lips, before nipping at her bottom lip with his teeth.

The action had (Y/n) chasing after the blond’s lips, making the blond chuckle as he gave in to her wishes; capturing her mouth in an open mouthed kiss, which she gladly reciprocated.

Until Kyōjurō inched his right hand higher up the underside of her thigh, pressing his fingers against her entrance and even pushing his ring and middle fingers inside up to the first knuckle.

That action, however, was already enough to have (Y/n) moaning in pleasure, all while she crossed her legs by the ankles— using that leverage to start rubbing her clit against the underside of Kyōjurō’s erection.

“Please, Daddy,” (Y/n) whispered in a plea, eyes fluttering closed as she felt his fingers going deeper inside her— scissoring within her walls, all to get her much wetter for something bigger.

“Please what, baby? You have to tell me what you want,” The young man teased, kissing his wife’s cheek as he felt her thighs clench harder around his hips.

And, as if to stir her up even more, he began to move his hips against hers— dragging his cock against her clit, in turn making her eyes flutter shut as salacious moans spilled free from her lips. “Please… fuck me. Fuck m-”

(Y/n)’s words were brought to a pause when she felt Kyōjurō’s fingers pull out of her, leaving her pussy feeling so empty; much, much needier. However, before she could even beg for more, her husband had already taken pity on her and lifted her up a little bit, if only to align his cock right with her entrance.

Then, he pushed in the barest inch— making (Y/n) moan aloud as her eyes rolled back in her head. Her breaths came in short bursts then, with her head feeling so heavy and her entire body getting so warm for him. It was as if an electric current passed through her, with how much pleasure she got from that one move alone.

Kyōjurō couldn’t help himself, he pushed in even more, gritting his teeth when he felt (Y/n)’s hands at the back of his neck— one of them scratching at his nape, while the other one curled into his hair. “Fuck, baby, I didn’t even eat you out but you’re this wet.”

“I’ve been wet since I saw you on the field, Daddy,” The young woman admitted through a moan, eyes hazy with delirious pleasure even as she tried to look right into her husband’s flame colored eyes.

At that, Kyōjurō claimed her lips in a kiss, letting it consume both of them until he moved his hips to begin thrusting against her. Every push of his cock inside her had her moaning against his mouth, all while her fingers kept tugging at his hair and gently scratching at his nape.

It only served to egg him on, to the point where a part of him didn’t care about how loud they were being; not when he was drowning in so much pleasure, and so much warmth in his wife’s arms.

Really, he’d already known that he was so lucky to have her— that moment was just reminding him of how much.

Every move felt like it was knocking the breath out of (Y/n), yet she held on tight and let herself sink into the heady pleasure she had been craving for. Especially when Kyōjurō pushed in really deep and brushed against her cervix.

Her legs tensed up at that, as a mix of white hot pleasure with just a hint of pain, ran down her entire body. “Deeper, Daddy! Deeper, please!”

Kyōjurō did as she asked, angling his hips to hit the part that made her absolutely crazy, only to be rewarded by her tightening her legs around his hips so she could meet him thrust for thrust. Her efforts weren’t doing much, but it was enough for him— given how he had her pressed up against the shower wall.

In the midst of things, he’d almost forgotten about his teammates— and how they would be done with their cooldown workouts soon— so, when the thought hit him, he began to thrust faster. He chased after his and his wife’s orgasms enthusiastically, not minding the noise they made since he was sure that no one other than them were in the showers.

If anything, them being so loud was turning him on even more. Especially with the way that his wife kept moaning his name in between kisses; he was loving every second of it, and wanted to prolong it as much as possible.

But slowly, he could feel the pleasure finally about to reach a tipping point within him. It was evident in his wife too, what with the way that her walls clenched down around his cock.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought that she was trying to keep his cock in her forever. A hot thought, but definitely well within the realms of fantasy more than reality.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so close,” He whispered through winded breaths, keeping up with his initial pace before going for one last burst of speed— a move that had (Y/n) keening in pleasure, as she threw her head back and came around his cock.

It was the headiest thing that he had seen since the night before, when he’d fucked her much harder with her all tied up in their bed. And it also served to have him opting for slower and deeper thrusts, all so he could savor his own orgasm— and maybe wring out another one from her.

Her walls fluttered around his dick, adding to the headiness he already felt bubbling within him; pushing him closer and closer to the edge, until he couldn’t take it anymore and gave in— sliding his cock in to the hilt and pressing his slit up against (Y/n)’s sweet spot as he came.

He could even feel her shaking, as it triggered another orgasm from her.

And by the time that his thoughts were clear enough to make sense of what had just happened, he pulled back a little to look at how blissed out his wife was; feeling the corners of his lips tip up into a smile, before he leaned in to press the sweetest of kisses to those lips that he loved the most in the world.

“I’m so lucky to have you, baby. So, so lucky.”

***

BONUS:

“Has anyone seen where Rengoku went?”

Kyōjurō’s eyes immediately widened when he heard the voices coming down the hall— right into the shower area. And with a panicked look over his shoulder, then right at his wife, he had only realized that he didn’t even pull the shower curtain closed.

So, with his quick reflexes, he pulled the curtain closed just in time to hear the first of his teammates enter the shower area.

“Hey, Rengoku’s already here! His things are on the floor.” And those words had Kyō panicking even more, because there he was— with his dick still in his wife— in the team’s shower.

“We are not doing this again, Kyōjurō,” (Y/n) hissed under her breath, all while praying that no one would mess with her husband and open the curtain. Because really, they’d get more than they bargained for.

[harlowhockeystick]

Oooh there’s potential in the singer!reader au for them to get caught by paps in a comprising position (kinda like Timothee C and Iza/Eza I don’t know how to spell her name sorry) in a pool or on holiday, just heavy PDA or something and maybe it happens over Christmas break and when Willy gets back to hockey practice they’re all chirping him like ‘so when you said you were doing nothing over Christmas you really meant you were having sex in Mexico with a Grammy winner’

And he’s all ‘I have no idea what you are on about’ because maybe their angst comes from her taking forever to publicly confirm it due to the label being dicks

PLS OMFG

she didn't think anything of it, at the time. what kind of sicko follows a couple all the way to a private villa, into a somewhat remote location in mexico during the holiday season. but that of course, it what some people make their livelihood on. following the most trending celebs at the moment into the most obscure places, trying anything and everything to get that million dollar photo- no matter how scandalous it may be. but honestly, she thought they would be safe. she even let her bodyguards bring their families along to mexico with them, paying for the entire trip with everything included. but the got the villa for just her and william. not for the guy with the camera two hundred feet away. as she scrolls on her phone, she starts to get a million and one text messages, notifications, emails. everything. the photo leaked. the photo of her and william in a hot tub together...she remembers that exact moment pretty well actually. she remembers the way his hands felt on her underneath the warm water, how his lips felt on her neck, and how easily her swim bottoms slipped to the side for him. but now that special, sacred moment that was shared between just the two of them, was now being seen by everyone who had access to media. anyone who cared enough. anyone who was a fan of her. and that...well that was a lot of people. at first she feels anger run through her veins, anger towards the pap who took the photo. then she feels fear, fear that now the relationship she wanted to keep private as much as she could was out in the world. then she felt sick. sick to the stomach by the fact that her worst fear came true. and then...then william called. but he wasn't angry, he wasn't sad. he asked if she was okay. he could care less what anyone else thinks about his relationship, but he doesn't have the fame that y/n does. he doesn't have the expectations that y/n does. william is famous for skating up and down a hockey rink, shooting a little puck around, and doing the best he can at it. y/n is famous for singing songs, wearing the most expensive brands on the red carpet, writing love songs that win awards, and being set on the worlds pedestal. two different types of fame. she said she was okay, but that she was sorry this was even happening to him. y/n just poured it out to him on the phone. her fears, her anger, her sadness. all of it. she didn't want this to happen. she wanted to keep him private, keep him to herself. she liked the secrecy, she liked the riskiness to it all even when it came down to the wire. though she posted about him every once in a while (and even then it wasn't his face, just a picture of them holding hands, or her legs rested on his lap) she still kept it to herself. only letting people know what was going on through her songs. then...then the next time william was in the locker room, he knew what he was about to be asked. he wanted to not only protect his dignity, but also that of his girlfriend's. "fucking a grammy winner now?" "thought you were with family, not a super star willy." "didn't know you liked her music that much?" is what he was heckled by. he didn't respond, but only when someone said "so when you said you were with family, you were actually hooking up with a grammy winner?" he had to bite back. and that he did. "watch your tone- it's not like that. like you'd care, though. she's more than that to me, and that's all you need to know."

[lovehugsandcandy]

One-on-One: Love (N*FW, ColtxMC, ROD)

A/N: This is a birthday gift for the lovely @desiree-pow (HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABE! I hope that this bday is AMAZING - you deserve it!!!). This is also the last (maybe?) one-shot in the Colt!basketball AU that no one asked for. (Series here)

Length: ~1,800 words 

Rating:  N*FW (Swearing and sex)

Summary: That’s one way to improve morale after a loss.

.

Ellie bounced Jaylen on her lap, trying futility to keep him occupied as the final seconds ticked by. The Knicks were down by 11; even with thirty seconds on the clock, this game was over.

“Ugh,” she moaned, standing at the final horn and turning to Brandi, the sole friend she had made amongst the other players’ wives. “This loss means Colt is going to be in a god awful mood tonight.”

“Oh no,” Brandi replied, fixing her with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t mind when they lose. Kevin gets all his anger out in the best way, if you know what I mean.”

Ellie blinked, mind slowly catching up to the implication, as she cradled her son closer. Her thoughts raced before finally settling on awe. It was a fantastic idea; she was amazed she hadn’t thought of it before. 

She knew Colt better than anyone. 

She knew he liked winning.

But she knew he loved her more, desperately, ferociously; she had seen it repeatedly, from callused fingertips tracing ever so gently over goosebumps emerging on her bare skin to his willingness to temper even his worst impulses for her sake. His absolute adoration had quelled many of the ceaseless on-court fistfights, though the smart mouth spitting insults remained. His devotion had convinced him to refuse multiple trade requests for the sake of their family. And it had even reduced the constant bickering targeted at Logan, though nothing would squash every jab.

Together, they had navigated graduations and parenthood, dissertations and Championships.

Of course she could get him over one loss.

It was brilliant.

~~~~~

She heard the front door creak open right as Jaylen drifted off to sleep, easing the nursery door closed as quietly as she could, Brandi’s words still bouncing around her brain, she waited two beats to make sure that he didn’t stir before creeping away.

When she edged downstairs, bare feet slow on the carpet, it was quiet but, if she focused, she could hear quiet clicking, tapping of fingers on a keyboard barely audible from the living room. She peeked in; the laptop screen illuminated Colt’s face, game tape already rolling in front of him.

“Hey, Colt?”

He didn’t respond, eyes glued on the movement in front of him, tight fingers reaching for his cell phone.

“Colt?”

“Hmm? Is the baby asleep?” He didn’t look up, not even when she stalked closer to lean over the couch and drag her palms over his chest, damp hair from the locker room shower tickling her cheek. “That fucking asshole,” he murmured, still transfixed by the screen; she rolled her eyes.

“Colt, come to bed.”

“In a minute, I gotta-“

“Coooolt.” Her teeth grazed his earlobe, and he shuddered, tremble rolling up and down his spine, but still his gaze remained on the screen.

“Baby, I-” His fingers were tense around the phone but his words cut off sharply, inhale whistling harshly through his teeth as her fingertips walked slow, teasing circles underneath his t-shirt, down the taut muscles of his chest.

“The tape will be there tomorrow.”

“But I need to-“ He sucked in a breath, again, as her teeth teased the tendon in his neck, and he grabbed hold of her hair when she paused, gently keeping her pinned in place as she nibbled a possessive mark into his skin. “Baby…”

“Come on.” She stood, edging backwards toward the stairs, and smirked when he turned to face her, leather couch creaking beneath him. His eyes trailed down, flashing greedy and dark, intent on where her fingers fiddled with the bottom hem of the grey sweatshirt.

“Logan’s supposed to call me, we’re gonna go over tape.”

She raised her eyebrows, saying nothing, and pulled her sweatshirt over her head, noting the exact moment when his eyes drifted down to the jersey underneath, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“We’re supposed to…” He trailed off helplessly as the phone in his hand began blaring, glancing between the lit screen and to where her hands were making their way to the front of her jeans. “Baby, this isn’t fair.”

She bit her lip when she popped the button, taking her time with the zipper, and had just started inching the denim down her thighs when he dropped the phone, still ringing as it bounced to the ground. He leaned forward, eyes intent on the emerging skin, and she grinned in victory, kicking away the fabric when it reached her toes.

She had just put her fingers on the hem of her jersey when he leapt clear over the back of the couch; she giggled as she stumbled backwards, but he was faster, long legs tracking her as if he were streaking towards the net. However, instead of the basketball, she was the prize. 

And Colt always demanded his prize.

“Fuck no.” He pulled her hands away from the Knicks blue, dragging her against his chest. “Leave it on.” 

“You are such a narcissist. You just want me wearing your name.”

“Our name,” he corrected, sliding warm fingertips up her sides to settle underneath her bra. “And it doesn’t matter ‘cuz you know you’re gonna be screaming my name in a minute.”

“You are such a- oh.”

His teeth were against her neck as she sagged against him, back resting against his chest as strong fingers dug insistently on her hipbones, leading her towards the stairs. “That was completely unfair. You cheat worse than the fucking Nets.” Behind them, Colts cell phone was still blaring from somewhere under the couch, but she could only focus on the hushed promises being dropped into her ear. “And, when we get to our bedroom, I’m gonna take you apart just like I did them in the fucking playoffs.”

But they didn’t make it to the bedroom, anyway.

She sassed back, “I think I can play tougher defense than they can.” But it was difficult walking, Colt plastered behind her, chuckling against her neck before his lips moved to the curve of her shoulder, teeth print on her skin marking her as his as much as the six letters on her back. He teased the line of her panties, fingertips dipping incrementally closer as revenge for her sharp tongue; by the time they got to the bottom step, her words were gibberish, unintelligible, and the muscled arms around her waist were the only things keeping her weak knees from giving out.

She made it one step, then two, the line of his chest solid against her back and his cock stiffening against her ass, grinding in an utterly distracting and entirely indecent way, and she couldn’t be blamed for missing the next step, collapsing to her knees on the plush carpet.

“Fuck, Ellie.” He followed her down, pinned to her the entire way, and his hands curved over hers on the step. “Ok?”

“Please,” she whined, the only coherent sound she could make through the fog over taking her body and mind. “Just please.”

“Fuck.” The word landed hot against her neck and he moved, shifting back, and she heard rustling, fabric being pulled away, her underwear tugged down to a rushed tangle at her knees, and then he was lining up behind her. Her forehead dropped to a stair as he slid inside her, her eyes squeezing shut and mouth falling open as the familiar stretch sent lightning up her nerves. “Ellie, God, you feel incredible.”

She inhaled, trying to somehow get oxygen into her heaving lungs; he felt incredible, joined as one and hard inside her, hands warm and solid on her hips, teeth digging designs at the curve of her neck. “Colt, move, just move, please.”

He huffed a laugh against her skin and obliged, slow at first, settling deeper and deeper until he was just right, her thighs clenching as pleasure flickered and flared up her spine, then back down, jolting every nerve ending until she could feel it in her toes.

She moaned, low and lusty and downright filthy, and her nails scratched against the carpet as his hips moved faster; she worried for a moment that she tore a thread from the floor but, with the next thrust, it didn’t even matter because all she could do was moan into the carpet. Her hand flew to her mouth to dampen the keening cry pulled from her lips, but Colt only dragged her hand away, interlocking their fingers as he moved faster, hips pushing her forward and forehead sliding over the rug.

“Fuck, I want to hear you, El.”

“But the baby…”

“Don’t care.”

“But oh God, Colt there, please- I can’t-”

He pivoted his hips just so and the noise that came out of her mouth was unnatural, high and debauched and inhuman. The world shook around her as her vision swam, carpet fading in and out of vision as she tightened her fingers around his, something to cling to as the world fell apart. She barely registered when he shifted, fingertips of his other hand digging into her hip bones to pull her hips flush against his, or his moan, low in her ear; she was still shaking, weakened body sinking lower until she and Colt landed flat on the stairs, a pile of limbs and ragged breath. 

She was a sated, pliant mess when he eased her up off the stairs, guiding her to their bedroom to tug off the jersey, her bra, and his entire tracksuit, now wrinkled and defiled beyond repair. He was just kissing down her ear when she bit her lip and grinned. “Are you feeling better about that loss now?”

“What loss?” he murmured into her skin.

She chuckled, craning her neck back as he reached that sensitive spot at her shoulder and continued down. “The game tonight?” It was getting harder to form words.

“What game tonight?”

She laughed again and had a smart reply at the ready before a tinny cry cut through the air. Colt dropped his forehead against her stomach. “I knew you’d wake the baby.”

“He has the absolute worst timing.”

“Colt?” She ran her fingers through his hair. “Can you…?”

“What? 

“Maybe go see if you can put him back to sleep?”

He looked up, eyes narrowing. “Ellie…”

“Please?” She put on her best pout, curling her fingers over the sensitive spot behind his ears.

“But this was your night.”

She stuck her bottom lip out further, batting her eyelashes.

“Oh, my God! I can’t believe-” Colt groaned, standing up in a huff. “Fine. Fine.” He threw on some boxers, feet stomping heavy as he gave her the evil eye the entire time. “You are so lucky I love you.”

She laughed, listening to his footsteps recede down the hall; gradually, the crying quieted, then ceased, followed by a soothing voice and quiet coos. Twisting the ring around her finger, she smiled and whispered to the universe, “Yeah. I really am.”

.

Tags:

Perma @desiree-pow @leelee10898 @emichelle @client-327 @choicesgremlin @brightpinkpeppercorn @thequeenofcronuts @lilyofchoices @choicesarehard @peaceinmidstofchaos @ritachacha @burnsoslow

ROD @omgjasminesimone @mskaneko @lovemychoices @troublemakerinspace @zaffrenotes @alyssalauren

Colt

@deimosensblog @alegria1580   @thefarrari @moonlit-girl-wonder @going-down-downtown @soniadotalves @jolietmaraud @flowerpowell@poeticscolt @zaira-oh-zaira @akrenich @sibella-plays-choices  @maxwellsquidsuit  @liamzigmichael4ever @octobereighth @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction @theeccentricbibliophile @dancingboba @tempesrature @romewritingshop @shondideaira-blog @winchesterwolves @riyana

[barschter000]

@andy-deer‘s survivor AU makes my head go brrrrrrrrrrr

Also Byakuya is the blackened in this one instead of Toko because...no❤️

Kiyotaka believed that his last words would have meaning and bear some sort of weight that would stop people in their tracks to take a second to think about them, maybe even to remember him, that'd be nice. So naturally, he assumed, his last thoughts should have some impact as well, right?

Kiyotaka's last thought was fear in its purest essence. In such a high concentration that it bit and burned around his wound. His head pounded in the rhythm of his heart, a clump of heat and thuds that he had to balance on his shoulders while his bones were, one by one, in the span of seconds, replaced with toothpicks.

Beat, bite, burn, Taka ran. Blood was trickling down his neck and forehead, warm and slow, heavier than a fluid should be. It ran into his eye and he had no strength to wipe it away, his blurred vision was reduced to only left. One hand on the walls, tracing the tiles, wallpapers, doorframes, rounding the corners, taking the stairs.

Through the pounding, the dull bass against his temples, he tried to focus, tried to see. His sight was proof that he was conscious. Wallpaper, he narrated. A quick, sharp word thrown into the blunt bumps like a hook in a weaving ocean, hoping to catch something, reach someone in the chaos.

Front of me, he continued and the thuds accelerated. Boots, step, step, drip, pink, on the floor, footmarks, swirling, blurring, here, up, raise, shake, go, stairs, downstairs, down, dorms, safety, down to the dorms, someone, help, stairs left, only the stairs left, help, in the dorms, Mondo.

What had been a quiet stream in the depths of the ocean now became the splashing, gurgling and screaming of a drowning man, flailing his arms, pushing himself up on unruly waves, calling out to the silhouette of a ship. Mondo, Mondo, Mondo.

In fear in its purest essence, Kiyotaka thought of Mondo and he thought of him as safety. Which was contradictory.

Just a few days ago, Mondo had stood in a trial, naming himself a murderer. It wasn't far from the truth. He was the cause for death that would have never taken place otherwise. First, his brother, then Chihiro. If he had been a bit more mindful, a bit less reckless, a bit more fearless, maybe Daiya wouldn't have had to kick his bike and take the truck for him. If he had been a tad stronger to let control take over him or a tad stronger to swallow it harder, maybe he would have not picked up that dumbbell. Maybe Chihiro would have not been lying at his feet, bleeding from the head. Maybe if blood and its meaning hadn't scared him so much, he would have noticed that his swing with the dumbbell landed in the air and Chihiro's wound was the result of losing consciousness, as he carried their body to the other locker room.

Kiyotaka had forgotten who Mondo really was or rather, he had never known. Kiyotaka had seen him as a black, then as a white, two clear shades, clearly different. Mondo, the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader as his foe, had been explicitly guilty and as his friend, was overwhelmingly innocent. The Mondo that presented himself in the trial, however, was gray of a shade that already was too dark for ink and too bright for chalk. Kiyotaka couldn't see through him. A hazy puddle of gray; Kiyotaka understood that it was deep but couldn't see a bottom.

Mondo wasn't a murderer. He wasn't the one being executed, that was Byakuya and his plan to confuse the students, hang up Chihiro and bring a killer into the game; the trap of his that shut on himself. Mondo wasn't a murderer per se but he was half a murderer, an accomplice of some sorts. And oddly, greyly, enough, he was Kiyotaka's friend.

Kiyotaka wanted him to promise that he kept it that way, that Mondo and Death split up their paths, that he stayed gray and deep. In this world, where white and black were indivisible, he needed someone by his side to learn.

Mondo promised. Not the usual promise on his honor or on his masculinity, it was a simple promise on silently everything. Even before wrapping his arms around him, Kiyotaka felt safe in his words.

Kiyotaka couldn't hear the doorbell ringing, couldn't detect his finger on it, couldn't recall the order to press it but he hoped that he made an impact on this fragment of the world. Begging for Mondo, for safety, he repeatedly punched the doorbell. His gaze had grown foggy and his field of vision was a swimming dark mass, tinted red from the ominous lighting in the hallway, and from the blood. There was no response, no reassurance from his legs that he was still standing, and his hand started gliding down the doorframe.

A ringing interrupted Mondo's dreamless sleep. The parts where he was trapped in a dark room, being watched by faceless shadows and where he woke up, trapped in a dark room, then realized he was stuck in another, he didn't count as dreams; they were the usual occurences.

Taka, was his first thought. He had gone to his room that night, just to stand there, stare at his nameplate and think of all other things to pay no attention to the reason for his presence there: just company, just for the night. In the end, he called himself stupid, turned around and left. He didn't knock or press the doorbell. Right?

Another ring. And another. Mondo groaned and rubbed his hand over his face. Ringing once again. Yeah, that wasn't Taka. "Who the fuck–?" And once more. He lifted himself out of bed. "I swear, if no one has lost a limb, I'm gonna–" he mumbled to himself, muffling his last words because his brain hadn't completed the sentence yet. His naked feet scuffled on the carpeted floor as he walked over to his door. "Alright." He threw his door open, "What the fu–"

It had never happened before to his awareness: Mondo choked on his words, a second of suffocation.

This was Taka. And he was bleeding. Blood was running down his face. Starting from his hair and dribbling down on his uniform jacket, leaving stains. "Kyoudai?" Taka spoke like his voice was a liquid, spilling out of his mouth. He rung the doorbell one more time. "Kyoudai, I need–" His words drowned away. "Please, I need help."

This was Daiya all over again, Chihiro all over again, dying all over again. Mondo was on the street, in the locker room, at a grave. Honking, lights and screams, metal clanging, the ground vibrating, the weight of a body in his arms.

Mondo came back to life when something hit his legs. Kiyotaka had fallen unconscious and was bleeding on his feet. A hissed curse cut his lips. He bent down, kneeling right into the red pool, the wet and warmth creeping through the fabric of his pants, put an arm around Taka's waist and Taka's arm around his own neck. Taka was heavier than Chihiro, lighter than Daiya, his boots dangled and scraped over the floor, through the pool, and his head was hanging from his frame as if only skin connected them. Red dripped from his hair.

"Fuck." His voice was trembling, light as air but coarse on his vocal cords. Mondo felt his chest rising and falling, his heavy breathing grinding down his ribcage and his lungs. Snot clogged his nose, a sign of tears, and his mouth dried out from breath and salt. He listened to his echo travel down the hallways and a second longer, longing for an answer but there was none. "Fuck!" It rung shrill and shaking.

Mondo stumbled over to the other side of the hallway, dragging weight, dragging a body. His fist battered down next to the first door, missed the doorbell, missed it twice but then its noise stung in his ears. He staggered on, tears were washing over his cheeks, he was leaving drops and bloody footprints.The next door, the third and the fourth. He didn't check the nameplates, didn't ring twice, there was no time and no answers. Kiyotaka was slipping out of his grasp, Mondo gripped his waist and arm anew. He couldn't see a wound, couldn't check how deep it was, only new waves of blood welling from inbetween his hair.

"What happened?" Mondo didn't hear it but felt a gasp grazing his throat. He whirled around and Taka slid again, sinking lower.

Kyoko's arms that were crossed at her chest untangled, revealing her gloves. Her face, her voice kept stern and unmoved. "I'll get Sakura. You stay here." Her steps were soundless, cushioned by her socks and her demeanor. She faced forward as she passed Mondo.

"Did something happen?" Makoto stuck his head out of his door. He choked on his yawn. Makoto ran over, inspected the body, hovering his hands over it. He cocked his head, twisted his mouth. He looked up to Mondo and their eyes didn't meet.

Makoto jumped at the scream next to him. Aoi slapped her hands to her mouth, her gaze stuck to the sight.

The only thing that Mondo perceived was the fabric at his palm, the flesh beneath it and the wrist he was clutching. Kiyotaka still had weight, about his warmth, Mondo was unsure. His purpose right now was to hold him. The rest was numb and unimportant; background static and bleary colors.

Kiyotaka suddenly became lighter, the arm around his shoulder gliding off his back. His nails dug into Taka's uniform without command.

"Mondo, you need to let go." Sakura was standing before him, Hina at her side, Kiyotaka in her arms. Mondo's hand still grabbed on, she had lifted his arm along with Taka. Her words were gentle but not a request.

"I'm not fucking leaving him!" Mondo growled, stepped closer, gripped tighter. He sent glares through tears up to the girl. He had stopped crying and a crust had formed on his face. "That is not what I'm asking of you," she said. "Please let go of his uniform. I need to carry him to the infirmary." Mondo averted his eyes, and removed his hand.

"How long is this gonna fucking take?" Mondo slammed his fist down on the mattress and, angry at the lack of sound and resistance, slammed it down again. He had always hated the sterileness of nurse's offices and hospital rooms; the cold lights, the thin beds, being watched and examined, and timeless waiting. He ground his teeth. His bouncing leg had long escaped his control.

Sakura, who was sitting next to the bed in front of him, looked up. She had taken the care to position herself so that Mondo was able to see Kiyotaka, how he was just lying there on his side, his eyes closed, his mouth slightly open, motionless. Sakura was pressing one of her hands against his forehead, the other against the back of his head where layers of gauze stacked and colored red as the minutes passed.

"I cannot hurry this process," she replied. "The bleeding has to stop before we can take any next steps." She turned her head around to Aoi. "Hina, my girl, could you be so kind and hand me another cloth?"

Aoi stood unmoved next to her, a roll of gauze and scissors in her hands, staring down at her friend's work, and the blood. "Hina?" Sakura repeated, knitting her brows. Aoi blinked and awoke. "Yeah, here, sorry." She cut a new piece, her hands were shaking.

Sakura lifted her hand from Kiyotaka's head for just a moment, revealing her red palm, took the gauze, crumpled it up and and added it to the others. Mondo had been counting the layers in the first three minutes but that had quickly faded into the back of his mind.

He raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. His lip had started bleeding from his biting and he was tasting iron as he sucked it in.

"I can understand your restlessness." Sakura's expression was calm, a subtle softness had undermined her serious features. It was poking needles into Mondo's surfaced nerves. "However, there is nothing that you can do now other than be patient. I advise you get some rest."

Mondo clenched a fist, bared his teeth. "I said I'm not fucking leaving!" "You may stay here," her tone hardened just a little. "There are enough beds to choose from." Mondo grunted, "Fine."

He stood up and could stop his knees from giving way and betraying him. He ripped at the curtain separating Taka from him and fell back onto the edge of the bed. He regretted closing the curtain. Mondo buried his face in his palms.

He couldn't lose Taka. He couldn't name a reason for it but after the thought of him dying, his brain went blank. He could see himself stand at his bed, stare down at his body. Kiyotaka looked peaceful as if he had gone in his sleep, laying there dressed up for a soldier's coffin. He was laying on his back and in any other condition, it surely must hurt. His head was bandaged and the wound was hidden.

It was a subject to Mondo's wonder that he was the one on Taka's mind in his last minutes. Why didn't he associate help with Sakura or justice with Makoto? Why did he choose him? Kiyotaka was the only person on earth that believed Mondo was a good man. It was silly and dangerous, Mondo had told him, but Kiyotaka insisted. Mondo knew that dying brains formed crazily truthful thoughts but to be on Kiyotaka's mind in his possibly last moments felt like an obscenity. The thought of Mondo had filled up his head and pushed thoughts about family, future and unfinished tasks aside. Mondo was where Kiyotaka had anchored his life.

His stomach turned as he noticed how he clung to that. How he swam towards the boat on the stormy sea, hope and the lack of it twisting into an ugly clump in his windpipe that hindered the air. Mondo felt like spitting at himself, kicking his double to the ground and in the ribs repeatedly, each kick with more anger behind it. His double was desperate, in his eyes weak, holding onto Taka, his heart and the affection stored in it. It was pathetic for being so dependent, so selfish and needy.

Mondo couldn't help it. Kiyotaka cherished his existence, silently accepted his mistakes, knowing there was light that cast the shadows, carefully treated his injuries, stitch by stitch with devotion to his being. That was something Mondo had not been able to achieve in his whole lifetime. He thought of Kiyotaka's death and his mind went blank.

"Um, hey?" Aoi sounded quiet behind the curtain. Mondo lifted his head. How long had he been sitting like this? His spine ached. "The bleeding stopped." Mondo allowed himself to breathe. "He's asleep now." Hina paused. "We'd stay if you want to go back to your dorm, that's okay." "If you decide to stay, you'll find us in my room if anything occurs." Sakura sounded so calm again, it was soothing now.

Mondo swallowed spit to conquer the dryness of his throat. "I'll stay." "Alright," Sakura replied. He slid off the bed, his legs stood firm. Flakes of dried blood rubbed off the soles of his bare feet as he tore the curtain aside and stepped forward. The girls halted in the doorframe and turned to him. "Thanks," he said, the eyecontact didn't last long.

Sakura nodded a goodbye, turned off the lights and closed the door. The room was dim with the light hanging right over Taka's bed.

Mondo knelt down next to him. The light gave Kiyotaka's pale skin a sickish yellow tone. The blanket covering his body rose and fell, Mondo saw the fabric of his uniform stretching and releasing, he heard the quiet in- and exhales. Kiyotaka was breathing.

Mondo's finger wound around his wrist. He was unsure whether the warmth was an illusion. He searched for a pulse, tapping about with his index and middle finger, then found one. Feeble beats obscured by skin and flesh.

Kiyotaka's fingers jerked. "Kyou..." He whispered like he'd lost his voice.

They locked eyes. How weak he looked. How soft, how frail, how strong he was for making it.

"Kyoudai." Mondo longed to answer but all words, all language were not to his avail. Kiyotaka blinked and squinted. "Bright," he whined. Talking was an effort, Mondo could tell by his wheezing. He followed his bidding wordlessly.

"I'm... so glad," Taka spoke. Mondo had not let go of his wrist. "I have so much... to live for." Mondo grabbed him tighter, the wish to hold him slowly becoming too much to bear. "I have this world to better." Taka's arm moved in his grasp, Mondo opened the plier of his fingers and Kiyotaka's hand slid into his. Kiyotaka intertwined their fingers clumsily. The weight on Mondo's palm was strange but he completed the gesture. "And you," Taka said. "I have you."

He let out another whimper and shut his eyes again. "My head," he muttered. The muffled sound of belching escaped his closed mouth. "Lemme get Sakura," Mondo decided. His voice sounded foreign to him, too steady. "You, go back to sleep." He stood up but a faint squeeze at his fingers had him stop. "Don't worry." In the dark, Mondo's smile was invisible. "I'll be here when you wake up."

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH22

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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-----

Chapter 22: Star Death Reality Show (V)

What was happening? Feeling as though he was blindfolded, Qi Leren and He Yi looked at each other nervously.

"Mark? Are you all right?" He Yi also asked loudly.

There was still no sound in the room.

"Let's go in and have a look," He Yi said nervously.

Qi Leren's heart beat faster. According to the routine in horror games, the loud noise just now was likely an indication of danger, suggesting that Mark had met some big trouble inside.

Had he met the monster? Qi Leren became suspicious. From the task background’s information, he clearly knew that the monster in the "glowing stone" had hatched by this time, although he wasn’t sure whether this monster was a simple and rude physical attack type or a parasitic type like an alien. If it was the former, it would very likely eat people, and its target...

Qi Leren pulled out the knife assigned by the program company and said to He Yi: "Okay."

He Yi looked at the knife in his hand in surprise: "...Do you need a knife?"

Qi Leren was dazed and realized that he had overreacted a little. To an NPC, this copy task was just an ordinary reality show. They didn't know what they were going to face and they were unprepared for it.

"Be prepared." With a straight face and posing as an experienced leader, Qi Leren boldly pushed open the door, as there was no warning from [Rain-Day Laundry] in his card slot.

Mark had fallen not far from the door. There was no blood on the ground. Instead, there was a fallen bookshelf, from which a large stack of objects such as vases and books had fallen to the ground, along with the axe. Obviously, when the black man had come in he had stumbled and knocked over the bookshelf. He was probably hit on the head by something, shed a little blood, and suddenly fainted.

Qi Leren breathed through the corners of his mouth, put the knife back into the sheath as if nothing had happened, and leaned over and lifted the man up: "Come and give a hand."

He Yi also came to help, and the two men lifted the upper body and the lower body, and reluctantly put the big black uncle on the bed.

"Now what? They’re still waiting for us, " He Yi said.

Regardless of the obvious inhumanity of leaving someone unconscious aside, Qi Leren thought for a moment: "Well, you look after Mark here, I will take the axe over, and then I’ll call Dr. Lu... Er, I mean Lu Cangshu."

He Yi smiled: "I know, I heard that his dream is to be a doctor, so his nickname is Dr. Lu."　

It seems that this copy world has also automatically filled in some settings, Qi Leren thought.

The two reached an agreement and Qi Leren took the axe and walked out of Annie's house, walking towards Jing Siyu’s house. Walking halfway, Qi Leren suddenly remembered what He Yi seemed to be about to say to him before Mark's accident. He had said that he’d seen something in the middle of the night...

Qi Leren looked back at the church in the middle of the village. Could it be related to the glowing stone inside?

　　&&&

When he returned to the house Jing Siyu was staying in, the group of people were waiting anxiously for him in this narrow room. Xue Jiahui saw Qi Leren coming back alone and couldn't help but ask: "Where’s He Yi?"

"He Yi didn't come back with you?" Lara also asked.

Poor Mark was forgotten by the girls because he wasn’t handsome. Qi Leren felt deeply in his heart that this was really a world where looks were most important.

"Mark fell and fainted. He Yi is looking after him. I decided to bring the axe first." Qi Leren handed the axe to his teammate Du Yue, giving him a chance to show his skills.

Du Yue took the axe, smiled at Qi Leren, and began to split the wooden trap door. The dust on the carpet flew up, and several of the women ran out covering their noses, unable to stand the dust. Annie was the worst. She coughed wildly and rushed out without looking back. He could still hear her heavy coughing from afar.

"She’s not allergic to dust, is she?" Out of occupational sensitivity, Dr. Lu felt that her cough didn’t seem to be choking, but rather an allergic reaction. "We don't have antihistamine drugs here."

"It won’t be a serious allergy. We’ve all received physical examinations to detect allergens, and at most it is mild allergies," Francis said calmly.

"It'd better be..." Dr. Lu muttered.

"Let's go and see Mark later," Qi Leren said to Dr. Lu.

"Oh, okay," Dr. Lu readily agreed.

Du Yue, an honest boy, worked hard and diligently. He chopped the trap door to the basement a few times, revealing the dark environment below, which gave off a sense of dread.

The ladies were outside, Mark and He Yi were not there, and there were only Francis, Alex, and Qi Leren in the room, a total of five people.

Dr. Lu, who knew the routine well, had no choice but to help: "Well, it seems that we have to go down and look. Who will go down first?"

"I'll do it." Francis stood up.

Alex was one step late and curled his lips. "I'm the second."

After a little reflection, Qi Leren turned to Dr. Lu and said, "It's enough for the three of us to go in and have a look. You and Du Yue wait outside, then go to see Mark when we’re sure that Jing Siyu is okay."

"Alright."

Francis illuminated the basement with a flashlight. The entrance was very humble, with the ladder that led down only made of wood. Immediately after Francis went down, he found Jing Siyu passed out at the bottom of the ladder, and the three people joined forces to get her up.

The group of women also came back from the outside covering their noses and gathered around Jing Siyu to check the situation. Only Qi Leren and Francis were still in the basement, shining flashlights to check the situation there.

"I thought it should be a basement where sundries were placed, but it turned out to be like a laboratory," Qi Leren said curiously.

The same was true of Francis. The two were puzzled by the white-painted basement: "Maybe the owner was a researcher?"

This basement wasn’t big, only 20-30 square meters. The ground was made of cement, the walls were painted white, and all the walls were covered with bookshelves and lockers, with a pile of books and unrecognizable organ specimens. Qi Leren tried to read them, but the words above were all unfamiliar characters—obviously this was the language of this civilization, and the "alien" Qi Leren couldn't understand it.

There were also a lot of materials on the desk, which Qi Leren turned over thickly and couldn't understand. He opened the drawer and checked it, but there were no items like keys.

"Does the program know that there’s a basement in this house?" Qi Leren asked.

"I'm afraid I don't know. They said that it took only three days to sweep the village and arrange the fixed cameras. They couldn’t have been too careful," Francis said calmly.

"Right." Qi Leren looked thoughtfully at the family photos on the desk. The intelligent creatures on this planet looked very similar to them, with two eyes, one nose, one mouth, and no superhuman powers, so one could hardly tell the difference between them and this group of contestants.

"Hey, Francis and Qi, aren't you coming up yet?" Lara shouted from the entrance of the basement.

"Coming!" The two people who didn't find anything in particular gave up, grabbed the flashlights, and climbed out of the basement.

Just as everyone climbed out of the basement, there was a dull boom in the distance, like the sound of an avalanche. Several people were shocked and ran out to check. The women outside the door looked in the direction of the church in doubt: "Did something explode in that direction?"

"Did the church collapse from not being maintained for so many years?" Lara asked.

"I don't know, it was somewhere to the north either way," Xue Jiahui said. "Let’s go see He Yi and Mark later and ask them which direction the sound came from."

Jing Siyu was still unconscious, so they didn't trust to leave her alone in the house. Instead they moved her to Jing Sixue's house and asked her sister to look after her, while the rest went to visit Mark.

Qi Leren winked at Dr. Lu. Dr. Lu ran to Qi Leren and whispered, "Did you find anything?"

"I feel like there’s something wrong with the basement in Jing Siyu’s house. Go back and call Du Yue to have a look. You search carefully to see if there’s anything," Qi Leren said.

"Leave it to me!" Dr. Lu the treasure hunter said confidently.

The rest of the people walked towards Annie's house, and when they passed the church they made a special check and found that there was no place that had collapsed or looked damaged.

Further north was Annie's house. The group of people walked through snow and squeezed into the house. Qi Leren knew where to go, leading everyone to the room where Mark was lying. The door was open, but there was no sound.

Qi Leren suddenly slowed down: "He Yi? Mark?"

No one answered him. There was no one in that room.

"What's the matter? Weren’t those two here just now?" Janet asked exaggeratedly.

"Yes, Mark was knocked out by the shelf by the door, so He Yi and I carried him to the bed in this room. He Yi was looking after him. I brought the axe first... Did Mark wake up? Maybe they went out to find us but went the wrong way?" Qi Leren guessed.

"Impossible, they’re still in this room," Lara suddenly said.

Everyone was shocked by Lara's words and looked at her.

This female star with short hair and a heroic spirit had sharp eyes, and her eyes swept across everyone's faces: "It snowed in the middle of the night yesterday, and a new layer of snow was deposited on the ground. I have a habit of looking at the footprints in the snow. I paid attention to them when I came here just now. Before this group of ours came, there were five sets of footprints in front of Annie's house—those left by Annie when she left in the morning, those left by Qi Leren, He Yi, and Mark when they came to take the axe, and those left by Qi Leren when he left. Only these five sets, no more footprints, do you understand what I mean? Mark and He Yi didn’t leave the house. They’re still here."

-----

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[rosemaidenvixen]

A Secret’s Worth

Chapter 17: Jim

Ao3

Content warning: Things get pretty intense in this chapter in a lot of ways. I can't be detailed without spoiling the events of the chapter, so I'll put more the general warnings in the tags. If you want more specific warnings you can click the link above and go to the Ao3 page where I’ve posted the spoiler filled warnings in the bottom notes. And if anyone feels like I didn’t tag/warn about something that I should have please let me know. This is your warning, here be dragons, proceed with caution.

There was a stain in the carpet, from coffee if he had to guess. A dark brown spot glaringly obvious against the beige. It looked just big enough for his hand to cover.

“Jim, are you listening?”

He jerked his eyes up from the floor towards the desk in front of him.

“Sorry what was that?”

Her lips turned downwards into a tiny frown “We were discussing your goals Jim,”

“Oh, right….” he drummed his fingers against his knees. 

A goal. Jim had still been trying to think of one when he zoned out looking at the carpet.

Couldn’t do any kind of job or college, those weren’t happening for him. She’d said their goals could be as long term or short term as they wanted, so maybe--

“My goal is to buy my own Vespa,” Jim said, giving himself a mental pat on the back as he did.

Owning his own Vespa. Nice, realistic, normal. A good, solid goal that no one should look twice at.

The frown melted away into a wide smile “That’s great, do you have anywhere you want to go in your Vespa?”

His face blanked, stomach dropping no less than two inches.

Stupid. 

People wanted cars and Vespas and stuff because they wanted to go places in them. Unlike Jim who was never going to leave his hometown.

“Ummm…..not sure, all the places I normally go I guess,” he forced his voice to stay even despite the squirming in his belly.

Her porcelain smile remained fixed in place “I think that sounds like an excellent goal, but how about you try to think of a more long term goal before the end of the school year?”

Jim nodded along, digging his fingers into his jeans to distract himself from the hot, fluttery feeling sweeping over his entire body.

Was she suspicious? Did she pick up on how he wasn’t actually planning on going anywhere? Was she going to call Dorrie the second he left her office?

“Ok, long term goal next time, I can do that,”

Beaming at him, she pulled a packet of papers off the top of the pile sitting on her desk “You don’t have to use the guide to pick a goal, but if you have trouble thinking of one these should give you some ideas, now do you mind sending in the next student on your way out?”

Jim forced himself to stand up slowly and not just bolt out the door “Ok, no problem,”

“Thanks, have a good spring break,”

He managed to smile and give a half hearted ‘You to’ as he accepted the papers and stepped out of the office. Heading down the hallway back to the main waiting room, the jittery feeling crawling through his muscles diminishing but not completely going away. 

It never did.

Glancing around the waiting room, he spotted the next person in line.

“Eli, you’re up,”

Eli fumbled with the magazine in his hands before popping up out of his seat “Oh, thanks Jim,” he grabbed the magazine along with a stack of others from the floor before rushing down the hall. Jim craned his head to try and read the cover before Eli vanished around the corner.

Keep So-Cal Weird.

Jim rolled his eyes as he exited the main office. At least his goals wouldn’t be as weird as Eli’s. Although quite frankly he’d rather live in a world where they didn’t make freshmen discuss their goals with the guidance counselors.

It wasn’t like Jim didn’t have enough on his plate already.

He had no idea if guidance counselors and social workers talked to each other on a regular basis, but he had to play it safe and act like they did.

Especially since he was like 99% sure that all the teachers knew. He knew that Strickler knew, and he was pretty sure that Strickler had told all the other teachers. So it was more like he was 99.999% sure they all knew, and the 0.001% was just him kidding himself.

So now he couldn’t even come up with some kind of goals to give the guidance counselor without his anxiety going through the roof.

Jim all but threw his bag into the locker and slammed it closed with much more force than was needed, unable to stop himself from getting worked up. 

This past month had been the absolute worst of his entire life. 

It had started when he’d walked in on Dorrie and Charles going through their house and it hadn’t really improved since. 

When he and his mom had gone over their game plan that night after the initial panic it hadn’t seemed all that bad. Be extra vigilant about making sure that no one saw anything weird and otherwise pretend that everything was normal. If they kept on top of it the investigation should fizzle out to nothing. 

Simple enough.

And the first week hadn’t been all that bad, tense but not bad. Week two had been nerve wracking but doable. Week three was when he really started having trouble sleeping, and it wasn’t like he got tons of sleep to begin with. That snowballed to him starting to forget late night meals and nod off during the day, having to work even harder at keeping up the act during school. 

Although if Jim was honest with himself he forgot most of those night time meals on purpose.

On top of that, week four was when he developed a stomach ache that wouldn’t go away, not to mention learned that his hair was falling out. Now it was the end of week five and Jim couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t stressed out, dead tired, and constantly felt like rats were chewing on his insides.

Grimacing, Jim pressed a hand to his stomach as he turned and headed to the cafeteria. Feeling sick and exhausted all the time sucked, but that was nothing compared to the everpresent, unrelenting, blood curdling dread.

The fear that he’d somehow let something slip. That right at this moment someone was coming to arrest his mom and take him away. All because of something Jim said or did.

Forget walking on eggshells, this was more like crawling through a minefield.

Every second that Jim was outside his house he had to be on guard; keeping himself under complete control at all times. Making sure that anyone watching, teachers, nurses, other classmates, wouldn’t see anything worth reporting. No outbursts no meltdowns no nothing.

As far as anyone else knew the Lakes were a normal, happy family. And Jim had to act like it.

But after five weeks he knew that was a hell of a lot easier said than done.

Jim couldn’t be sad or scared or angry any more, even about regular things. With so many people watching he couldn’t afford to let them get the wrong idea. So regardless of what he was actually feeling at any given time, he forced himself to stay calm, plastered on a happy face, and continued along like everything was fine.

But he wasn’t fine. Underneath his plastic smile Jim was coming apart at the seams.

He felt like a nerve with all the skin and muscle ripped away. Exposed to the cold air and completely vulnerable, ready to go off at the slightest touch.

Constantly keeping himself under control in front of all the teachers and every other adult in school was was bad enough, even without--

Jim stopped short as he stepped into the cafeteria, instantly spotting them sitting at a corner table. Five weeks ago the sight would have been somewhat soothing, now it was enough to make his heartbeat triple and intestines knot up.

Pulling in a shaky breath, Jim forced down the sudden bout of nerves. 

He was in the middle of school in the middle of the cafeteria surrounded by other people. Now was not the time to lose it. 

Five in. Hold for five. Five out.

Repeat

After a minute of deep breathing the full body shivers finally diminished to a much more manageable fluttering in his chest. Confident that he’d successfully gotten his emotions under control, Jim raised a foot and slowly resumed his approach.

Jim had been going back and forth about doing this for weeks, but this morning cinched it. 

He was doing this. Today. Right here right now. Even if the idea of doing it felt like standing on the edge of a cliff. 

Because the worst part of the past month hadn’t been constantly being on guard or always being tired and nauseous. It was not knowing who’d he had to be on guard from.

A month ago, when he’d walked in on CPS in his house, Jim instantly knew one of his friends had blabbed.

While his immediate response had been to call Toby and demand answers, it didn’t take very long for Jim to shift gears to shoving the thought into the back of his mind and keeping it there. Couldn’t do anything to change it so there was no point to shoving his foot into that hornets nest. A with the way things had blown up when their problems with his mom first came out, forcing the issue might put him on the odds with all of them, and cost Jim the one part of his life that didn’t actively suck right now. The only thing to do was let it go.

So Jim let it go.

But as the weeks went by, despite how much he actively tried not to think about it, small doubts kept sprouting up in the back of his mind like weeds.

Did Mary really mean it when she asked how he was doing or was she fishing?

Was Toby trying to be helpful by offering to help carry groceries in or was he looking for a chance to spy inside the house?

His heart shot up into his throat, pounding as he closed in on the table.

And while Jim knew it had to be one of the four of them that called, he still had no idea who it was. That meant he didn’t know who it wasn’t either.

So as much as he tried, as much as he wanted to, Jim could never completely relax around any of his friends.

It was bad enough being on edge with every single adult in his life, but not knowing which one of his friends had stabbed him in the back, and worse not knowing if they were waiting to do it again…..

Jim stopped in his tracks, table just inches away. The four of them chatting away, his presence still unnoticed. Heartbeat hammering in his ears.

This was going to be ugly but Jim just couldn’t take not knowing any more. One way or another the truth was coming out today.

“I know one of you called the cops on my mom, so who was it?”

The four of them practically jumped in their seats before whirling around to face him. Claire was the first to find her tongue.

“What?” 

Her eyebrows were knitted together in confusion. An expression shared by all the others sitting around her.

Somehow that made the lump of coal sitting in his ribcage smolder hotter even as his heart was threatening to beat out of it.

One of them knew exactly what he was talking about. One of them was only pretending to be confused.  

“A month ago someone called CPS on my mom and I know it was one of you,” he made a show of narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms “So don’t try to deny it,”

They all turned and looked at each other, shifting uncomfortably in their seats. 

Jim stood his ground, mouth set into a firm line and prickling doubts shoved down into the bottoms of his feet. There it was, the accusation out in the open. Whoever it was might try to deny it, but Jim knew it had to be one of the four of them, and he wasn’t going to let them weasel their way out of--

“Jim….” Toby spoke slowly, briefly meeting his eyes before looking away “We….all did,”

His heart stopped.

For a moment Jim wasn’t sure how to respond, wondering if he’d actually heard Toby correctly, then the world slowly started to turn again and the words sank in.

“.....you what?”

“It’s true,” he snapped his gaze over to Darci, she flinched but didn’t look away “After we tried...talking to you, the three of us went to my dad and showed him the photos,” she glanced over to Toby at her side “It was only after that we learned Toby also talked to someone about--”

Jim whirled on Mary “I thought you said you deleted those?!”

“I-- uh-- umm…” she squirmed in her seat “I....made…...copies,”

Jim’s jaw fell open, unable to form words.

Out of all the possibilities, all the theories and ideas he’d had on who might have called, he’d never even dreamed that they’d all been in on it together.

His head was spinning, insides frozen and a roaring sound in his ears. Both hands rising up and fisiting through his hair, in a distant part of his mind he knew he shouldn’t be doing that since it was still falling out.

Just when he’d thought there couldn’t be anything else. That life couldn’t possibly throw anything worse at him--

Things became worse than he ever could have imagined.

He was faintly aware that the four of them were glancing around at each other from across the cafeteria table “Ok,” Claire laid both hands flat in front of her palms down “You have every right to be mad at us, but…”

Jim tuned her out, he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to whatever Claire was saying when his world was going to pieces right now. 

He thought that when he figured out who had been the one to call CPS he could call them out for lying and get the rest of the group to back him up. That he’d figure out who he could actually feel safe with and finally be able to fix at least one part of his completely messed up life.

But it hadn’t been one of them, it had been all of them. They’d torn his life apart and kept it a secret. They lied to him. Every day. For over a month.

Heat shot through him, flooding through his whole body until it felt like every ounce of blood in his veins was boiling. 

It was his friends all along. All of them. They threw him and his mom under the bus and then they lied about it.

All the fear, all the worry. His inability to sleep or keep food down, the fact that his hair was falling out.

It was all because of them.

For the first time in weeks Jim wasn’t scared, he was pissed as hell.

“I can’t believe you guys!”

They all jerked back, eyes wide, shocked at the volume of his outburst.

“All of you knew about this,” Jim felt nails stabbing into his palms from the force he was clenching his hands “And you lied to me about it for over a month!? How could you!?”

He was spitefully glad to see them all flinch and look deeply ashamed at that.

“Look Jim,” Toby started to speak “I know you must be angry, but--”

He shriveled into silence under the glare Jim gave him.

How dare he. How dare he try and pretend like any of this was ok. The girls he could sort of see, but Toby was practically family. His mom had done more for Toby than anyone else would have in the same situation.

And Toby had still sold them out, with Claire, Darci, and Mary giving a helping hand.

Jim slowly turned to glare at each of them, the heat rushing over him blazing even hotter as he saw their pained faces and slumped shoulders.

Had they had secret meetings talking about this without him, had they laughed, snickering about being able to keep him fooled for so long.

Somehow a cold dribble of guilt managed to seep in past the white hot fire in his belly. 

Even as blindingly furious as he was, for both himself and his mom, deep down Jim knew that wasn’t true. The reason they made the call was because they felt they had no choice. 

They hadn’t done this as a joke, they were worried, they’d done this because they were scared for him. They’d done this because they wanted to help.

But despite knowing that, despite knowing that he was taking this too far and was going to regret everything he was saying as soon as he cooled off, Jim was too angry to care.

“I told you guys. My mom. Doesn’t. Hurt me.” he got louder and louder with every word, until he was practically shouting, the raging inferno inside him demanding to be set free “Don’t you get it? She could get arrested because of this, I could get taken away. Did you even think about that at all!?”

Toby shot up out of his seat with a bang, cutting off Jim’s tirade. Glancing up at him out of sheer reflex, he saw that Toby had the edge of the table in a whiteknuclekd grip, every muscle in his body taut and trembling, eyes sharp as knives.

“No Jim. You don’t get to do that.” his voice was cold and harder than steel, harder than anything he’d ever heard coming out of Toby’s mouth “You don’t get to drop bombs like your mom locking you in the basement and expect us to pretend like everything’s ok. And you don’t get to act like we’re the bad guys for trying to help you,”

Jim found himself taking an involuntary step back. He’d never heard Toby this angry. Ever.

Prying his hands free, Toby stomped around the table towards him, Jim pinned in place under his molten gaze “You don’t get to talk about lying when you were the one who’s been lying all along. When you’ve been lying to me for years!”

“Tobes I--”

One look from Toby shut him up.

“But now you want to play honesty hour? Fine, we’ll play honesty hour. How did you really get those scars on your ankle?”

The bottom fell out of Jim’s stomach, taking every remaining drop of anger with it.

“.........what?”

“Well?” Toby stopped two feet away, green eyes boring holes into him “Go on, tell me, where did those scars come from?”

Jim couldn’t do anything but gape at him. The rehearsed answer, they came from a fox bite, sat in the back of his throat withering.

He couldn’t know. It was impossible. Only two people in the world knew the truth. The act done in the dim of the early dawn in the middle of a remote forest.

Don’t worry sweetie, it's a sterile blade. A few quick cuts and a bandage on top should get you all the shots you need, no questions asked.

There was no way for Toby to know, but the look in his eyes told Jim that he did. 

“How-- how--” he struggled to get the words out “How do you--” 

Darci gingerly slid out of her seat to come stand next to Toby “Ok let’s all just take a deep breath and relax for a second,” she glanced over, her expression cool and professional, no longer holding any trace of guilt “Jim, I’m sorry we lied about what we did but I’m not sorry for doing it,”

“Darci’s right,” Mary stood and approached, Claire at her side “And we all agreed, what’s going on with your mom….that’s not ok, and we couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. I know your mom was probably really messed up when your dad walked out, but that doesn’t mean--”

The words hit him like a fist to the gut “How do you know about that!?”

Mary shut her mouth, cheeks pink.  

By now everyone in the cafeteria was turning and looking at them. And who could blame them with all the yelling. Jim knew that this was exactly the type of scene he needed to avoid, but all the emotions boiling up in his chest were too enormous and tangled and turbulent for him to make space to care about their audience.

Claire took half a step forward “Look Jim, I’m sorry we lied to you about reporting your mom, that was messed up and we shouldn’t have done it, but...” she inhaled, drawing herself up to full, regal height “But we wouldn’t have had to report her behind your back if you had just let us help you in the first place,”

“Yeah, you don’t get to talk to us about lying,” he spun back towards Mary. Hands on her hips, eyes narrowed into diamond hard points “If you had been honest with us from the beginning we wouldn’t have had to lie about anything,”

Toby stepped to the front of the group, arms folded in front of him “To more tricks or lies. We need the truth Jim. The whole truth, about everything. The scars, the basement, your curfew,” his expression was granite, voice flint “Right here, right now.”

Jim staggered back, furiously glancing at each of their faces. Claire and Darci were stern and unmoving as statues, while Toby and Mary were full on glaring daggers into him.

How was this possible? How did they know all this?

He couldn’t get enough air, chest tight as he shrunk under the weight of the four sets of eyes on him.

What else did they know? If they knew about the scars and his dad and the basement, what else did they know? And how close were they to learning….the rest?

The one tiny, microscopic flicker of hope Jim had was that he knew that they still didn’t know about….his real secret. 

If they did they sure as hell wouldn’t be quiet about it.

But how close were they to figuring it out? They’d figured so much out already, it was probably only a matter of time.

And if this was how they responded to everything else, how would they react to learning that Jim was really a--

Icy daggers twisted in his gut.

He couldn’t do this anymore.

He needed out now.

Jim turned and bolted, running out of the cafeteria as fast as his legs could carry him. Barely aware of his friends’ shouts from behind him. But he couldn’t outrun the panicked screaming in his skull.

They knew about his mom locking him up, they knew about how his dad left, they knew how he really got the scars on his ankle. Sooner or later they would figure out that Jim was the monster all along and when they did--

Throughout the years ideas of what would happen if people learned about his transformation had always flickered at the edge of his thoughts. Jim had done his best to force them out of his head and keep them from taking full shape, but now every horrible, twisted thought he’d had over the years surged to the front of his mind and refused to be buried.

If anyone learned his secret it was only a matter of time until the government found out, and when they did they wouldn’t just let him run free. Jim’s blue form was an unknown; wild, dangerous. At the very least they’d lock him in a cell and throw away the key. Or maybe they would send him off to some secret lab to get dissected and analyzed piece by piece.

His breath became choppy and ragged as he raced down the hall.

Or maybe Jim was too dangerous to leave alive at all, maybe they’d drag him away for a long drive into the desert that ended with a bullet to the back of his skull.

And his mom-- 

A jagged lump spouted in his throat.

Would they lock her up to? For keeping his secret as long as she did. But she hadn’t broken any laws, maybe they’d just leave her alone? But then would they even tell her what they did with him? Or would she be left sitting alone in their house not knowing what happened to him while Jim sat in a prison cell, or got chopped to pieces in a lab, or rotted in an unmarked grave.

He could barely see the lockers rushing by him as heat built up behind his eyes. He was trembling all over now, blood rushing in his ears and scream building in the back of his throat.

Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it together.

Jim was going to break down, he knew that. But he couldn’t let it happen in the middle of school. Not now, not again. Had to get out, go home, get somewhere safe.

Right now his secret was still under wraps, and the only way for Jim to keep those horrific ideas from becoming reality was to keep it that way.

And that meant not having another public meltdown.

Ignoring the sound of the bell, signalling other kids to start streaming into the hall, Jim scrambled up to his locker and started fumbling with the lock.

Despite his badly trembling hands he managed to get the locker open and pull his bag free, but in his haste to grab it the bag started slipping from his grip. Jim just barely caught the side in time to keep it from falling, but in doing so accidentally pulled the bag open, causing everything inside to spill out.

Jim could only watch in horror as textbooks clunked to the ground, papers scattering all over the floor, pens and pencils rolling in every direction. Insides curdling as he stared at the mess.

Why now? Why today of all days? On top of everything else--

His eyes stung.

Why couldn’t he just get a break?

Trying and failing to force himself through his breathing exercises, Jim got down on his knees and struggled to gather the contents of his bag.

Somehow his efforts to gather the papers just spread them even more, the task made impossible by how badly he was shaking all over, breath coming in quick, quivering pants, teeth digging into his lip until he tasted copper, a storm roiling just beneath his skin.

He squeezed his eyes shut, grabbing a textbook and clenching his fingers around it so tight they hurt.

Get it together. Get it together. Get it together.

“Oh my god are you crying again?”

Jim froze, inside and out, eyes shooting open to stare down at two of his pencils and the textbook he’d just grabbed off the floor. Familiar snide, smarmy voice coming from behind him.

“Dude he totally is!” Seamus said with a laugh “This is too good,”

Jim couldn’t move, nerves paralyzed. Every drop of emotion he’d had to deal with today, shock, anger, fear, and guilt, surging through him.

“Awww what’s the matter baby?” Steve jeered “Do you want a bottle?”

Seamus and Logan’s laughter echoed in his ears. From the corner of his eye he saw the traffic around them slowing as other people stopped and stared. He couldn’t feel his fingers any more, curled into rigid claws around the edges of the book.

And just like that Jim was done.

He threw his textbook against the lockers as hard as he could, unleashing a thunderous boom into the hall.

“Fuck off Steve!”

Steve, along with Logan, Seamus, and everyone else milling around in the hallway behind him, froze “What did you just say Lake?”

“You heard me Steve,” Jim growled, stomping to his feet “Fuck. Off.”

Normally he would never lose his cool with Steve, the guy just wasn’t worth it, but after everything that had happened today, everything that had happened over the last month, he just couldn’t take it any more.

And Steve thought he was such a hot shot; popular, spot on the basketball team, grades good enough to keep it but not so good to be considered a nerd. But Jim knew a lot more than Steve thought he did.

Recovering from his surprise at Jim’s outburst, Steve gave him his best sneer “Alright Crybaby you got about ten seconds to get down on your knees and apologize before I break your--”

“Oh can it Steve, like you have any business calling me crybaby when you were the one bawling in the locker room about how your daddy couldn’t come watch your big game!” Jim practically spat the words.

The smug look on Steve’s face vanished, eyes going wide and the color leeching from his skin “Wha-- how-- how did--”

“Since you can’t seem to figure it out I’ll spell it out for you, your dad doesn’t give a shit about you or your basketball games! And if you really want to make him happy go play in traffic so he doesn’t have to pay child support!”

A hush went through the crowded hall. Semus’s eyes were bugging out and Logan looked absolutely petrified; Steve himself was wearing the most hang-jawed expression Jim had ever seen.

More and more people were gathering around now, drawn by all the commotion. Jim knew it was bad to be drawing this kind of attention, especially after the stunt he just pulled on the cafeteria, but the dam inside him had burst and it felt so so good to finally let it all out.

Let someone else have the rug pulled out from under them. Let someone else feel exposed and vulnerable. Let someone else have their deepest darkest secrets thrown back in their face.

Let someone else be afraid for once. Someone who actually deserved it.

“Face it Steve you’re not special,” Jim’s voice practically dripped venom “You’re just some moron who thinks that if they dribble a basketball good enough they can get an even bigger moron to give two shits about them. It’d actually be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic,”

Even as he said the words, felt the thrill of finally being able to take Steve down a peg, a tiny trickle of guilt managed to creep in. For saying something so horrible, so wrong. That no one deserved to hear, not even Steve. But what little guilt he had was easily drowned out by the massive ocean of vindictive glee he felt now that Psycho Steve was getting to experience a tiny piece of what it was like to be Jim Lake.

The crowd around them was deathly quiet now, everyone stunned into silence by Jim’s words. Shocked that he actually went there. With one exception. 

Steve’s face had gone from ghost white to purple, the veins in his neck bulging, hands balled into fists as his sides “You’d better shut your mouth Lake,” his voice was soft but dangerous. Everyone, even Logan and Seamus, nervously edging away from him.

Unfortunately for him Jim just didn’t care anymore.

“Or what?”

He stepped forward, unable to resist poking the bear “You gonna punch me in the face or something? Well go on, do it! You’re only mad because I’m right!”

Another rush of spiteful satisfaction coursed through him when Jim saw the purple flush on Steve’s face darken even further at his words, so much that he didn’t even care that some of the onlookers had started to pull out their phones.

“Well what are you waiting for? Hit me, punch me, it’s not gonna make a difference. It’s not going to change the fact that you’re a loser who’s life has fucking peaked!” he jabbed a finger into Steve’s chest, getting right up into his face “That the only thing you have going for you is a spot on the basketball team. And after that all you have to look forward to is a dead end job at the gas station and at least two divorces!”

Steve was practically quivering with anger now, nostrils flaring, teeth clenched so hard he was surprised they hadn’t cracked, but Jim could still see the flash of genuine hurt in his eyes “I’m warning you Lake--”

“Because that’s all you’ll ever be, a loser! Maybe the real reason your dad left was because he finally figured out how much of a loser you really--”

The blow took him by surprise, more than it probably should have. A dazzling flash of pain in his temple that snapped his head back into the lockers with a deafening bang as more pain flared in the back of his skull. Hot stars danced in his vision, the world around him spinning,. 

Jim vaguely registered that he wasn’t on his feet anymore, felt the linoleum under his back, the cool metal behind his shoulders and neck. Dimly heard the panicked shouts coming up from around him, even though he couldn’t make out the words. 

Blinking past the throbbing pain in his skull, and the warm trickle of something in his eye, Jim’s sight cleared just long enough for him to see Steve’s face, twisted into a mask of primal rage, and another fist rapidly approaching.

[yespolkadotkitty]

Fighting Blind, pt 19

Masterlist here ~ thank you @heatherbel​ for the beta!!

Warnings: shameless angst.

I sleepwalked back to my apartment. The noises of London made me jump at first, my movements jerky. Had I locked up the storeroom? The museum staff entrance? I didn’t know.

I didn’t much care.

I had lain on the floor of the storeroom for some time, clutching the axe. Sobbing my throat raw. Willing it to send me back to before. Willing it to let me look into Pero’s eyes just one more time.

Willing whatever magic that it had before to let me hold him, just for a moment, feel his heart beat, bury my face in his neck. Hear his voice.

Just one more time.

I didn’t remember taking off my filthy robes and changing into the spare outfit I kept in my locker for nights out. The nylon fabric felt incongruous; I’d become used to thick, soft robes. My bra chafed.

I let myself into my apartment. Everything was where I’d left it. 

My phone chirped in my bag and I pulled it out to see a text from Emma: Don’t stay too late! Reality TV beckons.

It was our little joke since she had introduced me to Ru Paul’s Drag Race, six months ago.

It felt like five lifetimes ago.

I put the phone to sleep, dropped my bag in the kitchen, and dragged myself to my bed, looking ahead of me but not seeing.

I lay down, fully clothed. The date on my bedside clock showed that here, almost no time had passed. I’d been deposited back to almost the exact moment I'd left.

My gaze was unfocused as I stared at the ceiling. My eyes reported back a view of the plain plaster, but in my mind I saw Pero’s last moments. The length of thick red ribbon around my wrist felt unreasonably heavy. I twisted the fraying ends with my right thumb and forefinger.

If I could have cried some more, I would have. 

I felt wrung out, a cloth squeezed too hard and then left out on the line until it sagged, dry as bone, moving only at the whims of the wind.

Eventually, I slept, and when I did, I dreamed of my husband’s big, soulful brown eyes, his scarred hands on my skin, the whisper of his melodic Spanish accent in my ear.

*****

I woke up in the middle of the night, shaking. My arm spread out across the cool, crisp sheets, reaching for the warmth of a broad Spaniard who had been killed in battle thousands of years ago.

I clutched desperately at a pillow that did not smell of him, and I waited for dawn to come, silent and dry-eyed, a husk of myself.

The next day, I called in sick. 

Emma left me six texts and three voicemails. Marco tried to call all afternoon. I ignored them both, and I stayed curled up on the bed, staring at nothing, hardly moving except for water and bathroom trips. 

Eventually, I slept. 

No dreams came.

*****

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when a sharp rapping on the door jerked me from my half-sleep, half-grief stricken stupor.

“Fuck off,” I moaned to the empty room, my voice paper-dry, cracking. “You’re not Pero. He’s gone.”

The clock showed a whole day had passed. It was just after ten a.m.

The pounding got louder.

I scrubbed my hands over my face, got up wearing yesterday’s clothes. Walking felt like dragging my feet through a carpet of molasses.

I yanked open the door without checking to see who it was.

Emma stood on the other side, and she took me in with wide eyes, her lips parting.

“Um, oh my God,” she breathed, taking in my wrinkled clothes. I probably stank. “What happened? Flu?”

I gazed at her, my very best friend, trying to summon joy at seeing her face again, when I never thought I would. Instead, I just shrugged.

And then she moved forward and wrapped her arms around me, and I let my face fall into the familiar feel of her shoulder, and I cried.

Two cups of tea later, I had unloaded the entire story to Emma, who had listened without interruption, various expressions parading across her elfin face, but, who now almost certainly thought I had experienced some sort of intense mental break.

I wasn’t entirely sure I hadn’t.

“Well,” she said finally, with the tone of someone speaking to a very infirm person or a  baby; “You can’t go back to work in this state, can you?”

I gaped at her. “You want me to go back to work now?”

She tugged my hand until I reluctantly stood up from the sofa. “You’ve not got a lot of choice. There’s a man in the staff waiting area and he says he won’t leave until he sees you. Came all the way from America.”

My heart sank further still. I just heard America, not Spain.

Emma herded me into the bathroom, stripped me off as I stared sightlessly at the wall, turned on the water, shoved me under it.

I watched, unfeeling, until the spray hit the red ribbon around my left wrist, and then a cry raked up my throat, and I slid down the tiled wall, curling in on myself, pressing the damp wedding bracelet to my lips, wishing myself back in China. Back in Pero’s arms.

Wishing I could hold him just one more time.

Just one more time.

*****

Emma didn’t say much on the way to the Armouries. What could she say? From her point of view, her colleague had called in sick one day and  appeared to have suffered an intense psychotic episode.

I half sleep-walked off the tube, up to the museum. People passing probably thought I was taking very strong drugs.

Emma made me a very strong cup of tea, so strong that perhaps the spoon could have stood up by itself, and steered me to my desk chair. “Sit. I’ll bring the visitor.”

I stared into the mug. “Do I have to? Please don’t make me.”

Emma set her hands on her hips, her face creased in sympathy,  brow pinched with worry. “You can go home right after. I swear. Okay? You get one more day of whatever... this is, and then I’m taking you out on the town. London at our feet. Or, you know, twelve hours on the sofa, with popcorn and Ru Paul. Okay?”

I nodded, just to get her to leave.

Time passed; I wasn’t sure how much. I stared at my PC’s Welcome to the London Armouries screensaver, and wondered how much trouble I would get in if I hurled my computer out of the window.

Then I remembered I didn’t even have a window in this office. 

I smiled without humour.

A soft knock at the door made me look up. “Come in,” I called, with zero enthusiasm.

The handle turned, and I expected to see Emma, but I didn’t. What I saw made me topple off my chair.

A man with Pero’s face stood in the open doorway. His hair was lighter, cream caramel kissed with autumn, tousled. Scruff adorned his upper lip and the same strong jaw as Pero’s.

The same soulful, deep brown eyes.

The same striking profile, same nose I’d loved the hook of.

I stared at him as all the noise was sucked from the room. My ears rang.

He hurried over to me. “What the- Are you okay?” he asked in a husky-edged, drawling baritone, California with just a lick of Texas.

I stared at him wordlessly. My mouth opened and closed, until I finally squeaked out, “is this some kind of joke?”

The man stepped back, brows furrowed. “Funny. I’m pretty sure that's my line.” He rubbed a hand over his scruffy jaw, and that was when I saw it.

The circular mark on the root of his thumb. The depiction of infinity; the spiral, the serpent eating its own tail. Not black, like ink, but the colour of melanin.

My heart lurched into my throat.

This time when he offered me his hand, I took it. 

Our palms touched, and something electric chased down my arm. The stranger jerked as if I’d struck him, slapping his hands over his face as he reeled back, hitting the wall and sliding down it. I rocked back on my heels, staying on the floor.

He held his hands over his eyes for a moment that stretched, shaking, his shoulders hunched in.

When he finally looked at me, his eyes had changed. Darker, somehow. His mouth just a little scowly.

My heart jumped like it had been supercharged, because there was my Pero. I was frozen to my spot.

“The dreams,” the man said, very slowly. “I’ve been having these crazy dreams. But they’re.. memories, aren’t they?”

Unable to speak, I nodded.

“They’re my memories. But also… not mine.” He stared into the distance for a long moment, his face pale, wonder sketched on his features. “And this.” He ran the index finger of his right hand over the birthmark on his left thumb. “You did this.” His eyes sparked hazel fire, accusing me of this insanity.

And he was right. I had done this to him.

I held his gaze, my heart in my throat, heavy. “I gave it to you. Before.”

The stranger’s hand eased over his abdomen, resting where Pero had been gored open by Tao Tei teeth. “It feels… fuck, it feels real.”

I swallowed, my eyes burning, stomach bottoming out.  Tears streaked down my face and I let them come, my stomach cramping, and for an agonising moment, it was like losing him all over again. In my mind’s eye I saw the blood pulse from him, his life slipping away and me crouched over him, helpless to stop it. “It was real.”

We sat together in silence for, I don’t know how long. I both ached to touch him and feared it. Feared the modern texture of his open-flannel shirt over a white t-shirt. Feared the rough denim of his jeans.

And how would he smell? Not of lemon oil, leathers or woodsmoke. How could he?

“I’m Zach,” he said into the dragging silence. “Zachary Pero Wellison.”

My mouth dropped open.

Zach smiled lopsidedly, pushing a hand over his face. The face that was Pero’s, and yet, not. “So… I guess with the addition of…” He waved his hand between us. “...this, I’m sort of…. Both of us? I’m Zach, but I somehow have the memories of….. Pero.” He pressed a fist to his head and then popped his fingers in a “head exploding” reference. “Is this really happening, do you think?”

I laughed, without humour. “At this point, I don’t think I know.”

Zach huffed out what might have been a laugh. “The shrink sure as hell didn’t cover this in PTSD counselling.”

His deadpan delivery made me smile for the first time since I’d woken up back in 2019.

Footsteps sounded outside, followed by voices that lingered and then, after a minute, moved on. My gaze flicked over Zach, my stomach heartsick. Pero, my Pero, was in there, and yet, he wasn’t.

This was impossible. Everything I had ever learned told me what Zach and I were experiencing just did not happen.

But.

“You’re military?”

He nodded, shrugging off the shoulder of his flannel shirt and pulling up the right sleeve of his t-shirt to show me the bottom half of an intricate tattoo on his shoulder. “Semper Fi. Marines. Buzz cut grew out.”

I ate up the extra view of his body, greedy to know where he would be the same, and where he might be different.

“Glad I never saw anything like… the Tao Tei in Afghanistan,” he said shakily, a self-deprecating laugh escaping his lips.

I held his gaze. “It was an experience. Are you.. I take it you don’t still serve?”

“Nope. Three tours and an honorable discharge, two years on the street, but for the past five I’ve had a steady job. A roof over my head.” He summed up his life so flippantly; his delivery really reminded me of Pero’s nonchalance about death.

I sell my sword for coin, I sleep when fighting has exhausted me, and one day I will die and return to the earth. Simple, don’t you think?”

“Um, so... can I get you a coffee?” I asked, swiping my hands over my eyes. It felt like a monumentally banal thing to say seeing as this man now seemed to hold every memory my dead husband had ever clocked up, but I didn’t have anything else.

“Got any whiskey?” he half-laughed.

“I wish I did.”

“I’m good. Drank about a gallon of it at the hotel. Nerves. I, um…” He lifted those cocoa eyes to mine, and for a second, a heartrending second, it was Pero looking at me. My pulse tripped. “This is... fuck, this is a lot. I really…” He clenched his hands into fists, drawing my attention to that birthmark, the same lines, lines I had drawn, only in that brown shade of skin pigment. “I wanna touch you. Or he does. I don’t know. But… can I? Is that okay? I can’t think about anything else.”

Twin zings of excitement and fear skidded up my spine. “Um… okay.”

Neither of us moved.

Zach laughed nervously, standing. He towered above me as I sat in the corner next to my computer chair. I let my gaze travel up his body, long legs in faded blue jeans, a flat stomach under that white t-shirt, the lines of his torso delineated by the open plaid shirt.

His eyes were soft as he offered his hand again, palm out flat.

This time, when I took it, no lightning. Just a warm touch. His fingers sure and confident around mine.

He tugged me gently to a standing position, until we were only a foot apart, then he let our joined hands fall to our sides. We stood together like that for goodness knew how long, looking into each other’s eyes; his so familiar and yet so new.

Zach lifted his free hand to gently skim his thumb along my jaw, and just like that, the air changed. Each breath I took seemed supercharged as I gazed into his big, soulful eyes. “Zach,” I whispered, and it didn’t feel wrong.

He slowly lowered his head to mine, his eyes constantly flicking to meet mine, checking it was okay. Checking I was okay.

And then just before our lips met, a shudder went through him, and he whispered, “Cielo,” with just a hint of Spanish melody, and there was no way in hell he could have known that word unless-

And I yanked him down to me and kissed him with all the love and yearning and grief in my heart, and he kissed me back. His hands came up to spread over my back, and the warm, solid wall of his chest felt divine. 

Perfect. 

Bliss.

I opened for him, and he licked into my mouth, his teeth scraping just a little, and I welcomed the tiny hurt, pressing closer into his body. His lips were Pero’s lips, his little shaky inhale the way Pero would sometimes suck in a breath when we kissed. I shoved my hands beneath his open plaid shirt, felt the play of muscle on his back, under the soft t-shirt, and it was like holding Pero. I sobbed into Zach’s mouth and he drew back, frowning.

“Sorry,” I choked out. “I’m sorry. I -”

“I know,” Zach whispered, stroking my hair back. “I was there. He - I - loved you … He loved you. More than anything.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my lips together to stop them from trembling. “This isn’t happening. I would give anything to have him back. Anything. But this is… it can’t be real.”

Zach cupped my cheek, his eyes dark, stormy, and for a moment it was my husband looking at me. “Ask me something only he would know.”

I opened my eyes again. This was like living in an alternate reality of the film Ghost. But real. I felt the floor under my feet. I felt Zach’s palm against my skin, gun-callused, the same way Pero’s had been sword-callused.

“What did he say to me, when we... when I…” The words dried up on my tongue. Suddenly I didn’t want to share, which made no sense. “The first time,” I finished lamely.

Zach dropped his gaze from mine, a flush stealing over his cheeks. “Cielo. Heaven. I will not last,” he murmured, that Spanish melody sneaking, incrementally, into his tone.

My pulse spiked. 

No one could know that.

He met my eyes again. “Fuck. I know. This can’t be happening. But it is. Unless we’re both suffering the same delusion.”

I half-laughed. “Unless. God, Zach. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about…. all this.”

“I’m not. I wanted answers to these insane dreams, to the burning feeling on my birthmark, and however absolutely batshit those answers are... I had so many moments over in Afghanistan, wondering what I was fighting for... where my life was going. Always thought - it’s so stupid, but always thought I was just waiting for something. And maybe that something is you.”

My stomach dropped. “Oh, Zach.”

He smiled lopsidedly. “Whatever this is, it doesn’t feel like just my twisted little secret anymore.”

“I-” My heart pounded. “Secret. Oh my God, secret. The axe.”

Zach’s gaze shot to mine, wonder sketched on his handsome features. “I know how to open it.”

*****

I’d never run so fast before. I skidded out of the office, Zach on my heels, past some very surprised visitors and down to the artefact storeroom. I could only hope that no one had been there since the day before yesterday.

Zach stood silently by, but I saw his hands clenched into fists by his side as I swiped my keycard.

It was still there.

The door slammed behind us as I lurched on to the floor, picking it up, uncaring about being without cotton gloves.

Zach held out his hands, and I passed it to him. He gazed at it in wordless awe, his eyes poring over it, fingers stroking reverently.

Then he turned it over, pressed his thumbnail into the slice representing Pero’s scar in the carving on the bottom, and the handle turned, loosening.

I gasped in shock, surprise, joy.

Zach gently pulled the haft loose to reveal a shallow compartment in the metal handle, two pieces of parchment and a loop of crimson lying inside, like the finest of treasures.

With hands that shook, I took out Pero’s handfasting bracelet. The edges were frayed, the fabric so old it had discoloured, but it was his. I lifted it to my lips, felt my heart wrench from my body.

Zach had set the axe down and held the pieces of parchment in his palms. His eyes were wide as he breathed, “I wrote this. I mean, he did. But I remember writing it.”

I paused, the dusty, faded bracelet pressed to my cheek. “What?”

He showed me the yellowed parchment, the writing faded beyond recognition. “The words are almost gone. But I was there. I - he - wrote it while you slept. On the handfasting night.”

The world spun. I braced myself up on one arm. “Would you read it? Please.”

Clearing his throat, Zach closed his eyes, and to my amazement and joy, to my sadness and gratitude, Pero’s voice left his lips.

Querida

You sleep as I write this. My wife, in our bed. Your body and soul more beautiful than I could ever have wished for, in this life certainly. I am not good with words, mi vida, but you must know that you hold my old, scarred heart in your hands.

I think perhaps, you always have. 

If you are reading this then I have gone with God, but whatever He may have planned for my old bones, I will carry you with me always.

Until we meet again,

Yours,

Pero 

When he’d finished, tears streamed unashamed down my face, wetting my jeans. I couldn’t have cared less.

Zach’s face was drawn, too. He set the two pieces of paper aside and opened his arms, and without a second thought, I crawled into them. He rocked me gently, and I pressed my face into his neck, breathing him in; he didn’t smell of Pero, he smelled of rosemary and sandalwood and coffee, but it wasn’t wrong.

“Thankyou,” I whispered into his shirt. “Thank you, for letting my hear his voice, just one more time.”

Zach said nothing, just nodded. He understood. He always would.

We sat that way for I didn’t know how long. Eventually I roused myself. “Zach?”

A soft chuckle rumbled from his chest. “It’s still me. I think,” he drawled, American again, but that husky-edged voice curled its way into my heart.

“What’s the other piece of paper?”

He lifted one arm to pluck it from the floor. “It’s… what is this language?”

I recognised the penmanship. “Oh my God, it’s Gaelic.” I scrambled off his lap, reaching for my phone. This piece of parchment had been wrapped inside the other, and the words had been mostly preserved. I took a picture of the text, uploaded it to the translation app a colleague at the British Museum had developed. While still in beta, it nevertheless contained many ancient languages.

Within a few moments, a translation appeared, and Zach and I gazed down at the screen as I read aloud:

Jade

The thought that this message may find you in a future many, thousands of years from now gives me pause, I must admit, but since fighting those… Monsters, I find nothing surprises me.

We gave your husband a warrior’s wake. That I swear to you. Lin saw to many of the details personally. After your rooms were cleared I found a note in his hand and I enclose it here.

We captured a Tao Tei in the days following Tovar’s death. We fed Ballard to it. A fitting end for such a waste of air, I think you’ll agree.

And after that, the strategists found the Queen. We think we’re halfway to learning how to be rid of them. Once and for all, I pray.

A year has passed since you and Tovar left me. As I write this, Lin sits beside me with our twins, Jade and Pero, named for the man who saved Lin’s life, and the woman he loved beyond the boundaries of time.

I don’t know what will happen when we die, but we will keep Tovar’s axe in our family as best we can. Lin says she trusts the spirits to take care of it, and after all I’ve seen here, I can’t disagree with her. 

She wouldn’t listen even if I did.

We miss you.

With love,

William Garin

*****

A/N: One more chapter to go on this journey. Thank you, thankyou, thankyou for all your love, comments, messages, reaction gifs, theories, THANKYOU x 1000000000. Thank you for indulging my insanity.

Tagging: @babybelou​ @theravenreads​ @vanillabeanlattes @alienprincesspoop​ @knittingqueen13​ @lackofhonor​ @holographic-carmen​ @thewayofthemandalorian @buckstaposition​ @thegreenkid @agirllovespasta​ @chews-erotically​ @apples-of-february​ @mstgsmy​ @songsformonkeys​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @buckysalefty​ @readsalot73​ @restingnurseface​ @opheliaelysia​ @emmy-dandiliom918​ @prdsdjarin​ @a-seeker-of-imagination​ @havenforafrazzledmind​ @badassbaker​ @thewaythisis​ @kindablackenedsuperhero @keeper0fthestars​ @starlight-starwrites​ @agentpike​ @alldatalost​ @littlemissthistle​ @cryptkeepersoul​ @stylelovechild​ @maryan028​ @seawhisperer​ @emesispo​ @beccaplaying​ @hdlynn​ @jaime1110​ @marydjarin​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @mrsparknuts​ @pinkzsugar​ @cutepurplehedgehog​ @ksgeekgirl​ @skdubbs​ @roxypeanut​ @usernameistooshort @tortles​

[winterrose527]

WIP Wednesday

As I don't think I'll be doing any major writing/updating today, here is a little snippet from the next chapter of The One That Got Away. I'm not convinced that I'm going to continue this story, but we shall see:

She ran her stockinged feet back and forth on the carpet, her hands folded in her lap. She’d been ready for an hour, and had done little to while away the time as she waited to be fetched.

That was all she seemed to do lately. Waited to be fetched. The other day Arys had come to get her, she’d thought for dinner but it wasn’t. He’d driven her to her school, her former school. It was late, the school closed, but the headmaster came and met them at the entrance, shifting awkwardly in his tweed as he extended his condolences.

Arys had a box with him, and he stood guard as she emptied her locker.

“What about Tommen and Joff’s?” she’d wondered.

Arys shook his head, “You don’t have to do that.”

But it was better her, than someone else. No one needed to find Tommen’s crumpled up notes, shoved in the bottom of his locker. No one needed to find the bottles of pills Joffrey kept for a pick me up.

As their lives were dissected, some secrets could remain hidden.

He’d escorted her back to the car, holding the box.

“Where would you like it?” he asked as they returned.

“Burn it,” she suggested.

[hearteyesbowen]

hey babes, just have a request. im sorta playing around with this idea myself, but i wanna see where you take it. could you do a ricky bowen one where the reader is nini's sister and she looks up to nini a lot and so shes given up a lot for her. like she really liked ricky before he started to date nini but she never did anything about because she just cares so much about being a good sister? LMAO that's really freaking specific but yea.

what sisters are for ☆ ricky bowen

y/n loves nini to death, she’s her sister. she just want to see nini happy, even if it means sparing her own feelings

warnings: kinda angst, mainly fluff, long, very much unedited

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Here, Nina, you can have mine.” You smiled, giving your older sister your cupcake.

She looked up from her gaze at the floor, water droplets clouding the carpeted floor underneath her chin. She wiped her flushed cheeks with the back of her hand, stumbling to get up and fixing her festive, red dress. You hold out your cupcake in your hand, hoping it would help her stop crying. She picked the treat from your hand and wrapped her arms around your shoulders, tightly hugging you close to her.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

You smiled at the memory brought back by the photo in your hand, both of you were six at the time. Nini and your cousins were running around the house as you helped your mothers serve food to your relatives and other family friends. Your grandma put on display some freshly baked and iced cupcakes, the smell of the french vanilla catching the attention of the kids. They all ran towards the table of desserts, each grabbing their own goodies from the counter. You managed to save the last cupcake for yourself, until you noticed your sister wasn’t around. You squeezed past your family members until you saw Nini on the floor crying. That was when you offered her your treat.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” You heard Nini’s voice ask after she knocked on your open bedroom door.

She climbed your bed, sitting down next to you and peering over your shoulder. Her laugh ringed through your ear as she picked up the photo and looking at it closely. You had matching dresses, hers red and yours green, with a black brow wrapped around the waist. Nini was holding your hand while the other held the cupcake you gave her, smiling brightly at the camera in front of her. You used to hate photos, so you tried your best to give a big smile to match your sister.

“You were so dramatic back then, crying over a cupcake.” You joked.

Nini’s mouth widened as she shoved your shoulder, “You know that wasn’t true. Our cousin pushed me and laughed in my face as I cried. He was so rude.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

“You’re a bully.” She complained.

“You’re a baby.”

She grabbed the pillow behind you and smacked it across your face. You gasped, immediately pushing her off your bed, making her fall on the floor. Her hair was tossled across her face, some strands peaking upwards. You held your stomach as you laughed intensely, Nini matching you.

“If you two girls don’t get ready soon, you’re going to be late for school!” Your mother yells from downstairs.

➢➣ ➢➣

You and Nini enter through the open school doors, squeezing through the tight hallways and the multiple students standing in large groups or barely moving an inch for you to move faster. You both managed to make it through and get to your locker, awaiting Kourtney to come by and greet you two.

“So, is EJ going to be with us during lunch?” You wonder, twisting the knob of your locker and opening it.

Nini grabbed her textbook and put it away in her bag quickly before responding, “Yeah, Kourtney wants to discuss some of the outfits she put together for our costumes. Sound good with you?”

“All good.” You reply, grinning at her.

“Did someone say Kourtney?”

You giggle, turning around to see your friend strutting towards you both. Kourtney comes up and gives you a quick hug, soon giving one to your sister as well.

“How are my favorite twins doing?”

Nini laughed, “We don’t even look that much the same.”

“Still twins. By the way, I saw Ricky on my way here, and I overheard him talking to Big Red about wanting to talk with you about something.” Kourtney warned, pointing at your sister.

“What would be want to talk to me about?”

“I’m not sure, but it didn’t seem too serious. Now let’s hang out in class until the bell rings, because I am not being late again.” Kourtney joked, wrapping her arm around your shoulder.

You laughed, “Yeah, I need to rest my headache from Nini hitting me in the head this morning.”

“Weren’t you the one who pushed me off your bed?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

As the three of you walked to class, you started to blush as you thought about Ricky again. You and Ricky knew each other for a long time; kindergarten; to be exact. The earliest memory you can think of with him was when he helped you up after you fell off the swing set during recess. After that, you and Ricky would push each other on the swing everyday and make sure neither of you went up too high. You introduced Nini to Ricky later on, and they grew to be good friends as well.

Even when the three ( five, once you all met Kourtney and Big Red ) reached high school, you managed to stay extremely close with each other, you and Ricky significantly closer. Freshman year, you discovered you had different feelings towards Ricky, some you never felt before. You haven’t had a crush before, Nini would talk about it, but you never understood her. Of course, you being you, those emotions were hidden away. Sophomore year came around, your feelings towards Ricky grew, and you were just about to gain the courage to ask him out. Then, Nini had asked out Ricky before you could. You weren’t mad, how could you? You never talked to her about how you felt about Ricky to her before. When he agreed to go out with Nini, you were happy for them. There was no chance you would be able to tell her that you liked Ricky, you only told Kourtney about it. After that, you pushed away those feelings again, locking it in a box, and throwing it towards the bottom of the ocean.

Their relationship was short-lived, however. Ricky and Nini only dated for six months , and had a mutual breakup with each other. There was only one night you comforted Nini about their relationship, and it was the same day it happened. They become more awkward with each other, Kourtney stopped talking to him altogether, and you tried your best to keep your friendship alive with him. As far as you knew, Ricky and Nini were still friends, just more distant. Now, after meeting him in a summer camp for acting, she began to date EJ, and you couldn’t be more happy for her.

➢➣ ➢➣

“Hey, babe, you want to come with me to get lunch?” EJ asked, resting both his hands on Nini’s shoulders.

You, Nini, and Kourtney looked up from your conversation to see EJ smiling brightly.

“Hello, Kourtney, Y/N.”

You and Kourtney wave back at him, giddily smiling at each other over how cute he was to Nini. Nini turned in her seat at the cafeteria table you were sat at and stood up to hug her boyfriend.

“Sure, let me just get my wallet.”

She begins to dig through her backpack, her eyebrows furrowed and a frown built upon her face. After a few more seconds of rummaging around her bag, she groans.

“Crap, I think I left my wallet at home.”

You shake your head at your sister. You pull out your wallet and bring out a $10 bill. You give a light shove to Nini’s arm, offering her the money.

“Here, I’m not going to eat lunch today. Don’t like what they have.” You shrug.

Nini shakes her head rapidly, “No, you don’t have to do that.”

“Just take it, nerd.”

She sighs, hesitantly grabbing the bill and hugging you from behind tightly. She thanks you right before she took EJ’s hand and went to get lunch.

You turned back to Kourtney, wanting to continue talking about her plans for all the actors’ costumes. She had a smirk on your face, confusing you.

“What’s wrong with you?” You question.

“So Nini and Ricky talked during third period today.”

You squinted your eyes at her, tilting your head slightly to the side. “Ok, and?”

“Nini told me what they discussed.”

“And?”

“It was about you!” She rushed, quickly tapping the table underneath her hands.

Your eyes widened, suddenly feeling your heart rate pick up. You shook your head, not believing what your friend had told you.

“About what?” You wonder.

“We’re back!” Nini smiled, placing her tray down in front of her along with EJ. “Thanks again, I’ll pay you back at home.”

You give her a quick smile. Nini and EJ go back into a conversation while you look back at Kourtney. She nods at you, smiling.

A vibration from your phone startled you. You picked up your phone and saw it was a text from Ricky. Your heart stopped, you instinctively started to bounce your leg up and down.

“Uhm, Ricky wants to meet up. I’ll see you guys later.” You say confusingly.

“See you in class.” Nini smiled as Kourtney winked at you.

You didn’t even notice your sister and friend giddily squealing with each other as you walked away from their table.

Ricky’s text said to meet you at the staircase by the auditorium. Most of the students at this time were in the cafeteria, making it easier for you to veer through the school and make it to the staircase. You didn’t want to run, why would you willingly run anyways, but you did speed across the hallways.

Once you finally reached the staircase, you carefully made your way down the steps as to not fall down. You turned to go down the final flight of steps, and immediately noticed Ricky sitting on the last step. You only saw his back side, but it was enough to make you blush.

“Ricky?” You call, making the boy turn his head and stand up immediately.

He instantly smiled at you, running one hand through his curls and the other patting down his green hoodie.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m surprised you came to talk to me.”

You finished walked down the steps, standing on the last one where he sat before and making you almost match his height.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my friend.”

“I know, it’s just been a bit different since we really got to talk like this.”

“And may I ask why we are here?”

Ricky scratched the back of his neck, breaking eye contact from you to look around the area. You moved your head to try and meet his eyeline, hoping he would look at you.

“I’ve had something on my mind for a while, and I feel like you should know.”

Your heart started beating quickly again, feeling your face warm up and your hands beginning to fumble with each other.

“What is it?”

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a few seconds before staring back at you. His small gaze alone surely made your cheeks flush.

“For these past few weeks, few months, actually, I could not stop thinking about you.”

Your mouth opened slightly, and your eye widened. No noise was able to come out of your mouth, his words made you completely shocked.

“It’s been a little over a year since Nini and I dated, and for that time we were together, it didn’t feel real.”

“What do you mean?” You asked in a hush tone.

“It just didn’t feel like a real relationship. I did like her, but something just didn’t feel right. After a while we sort of lost that spark, you know?”

You were scared for Ricky to finish his sentence. Everything you could have thought he was going to say terrified you.

“When Nini stopped talking to me, I was somewhat ok. I mean, yeah, we’re friends, but it didn’t bother me as much. But then you stopped talking to me, too, and I realized what was happening.”

He took a short pause, as if he was trying to find the right way to phrase what he would say next.

“I thought I lost you, like we would never be friends again, and that caused me the most heartbreak. We would still talk, you know? Even when Nini and I were together, we were still best friends. But those few months that we barely spoke to each other, it was like a piece of me was missing. I needed you, more than anything in the world. I know it sucks, especially because I dated your sister, and it took me so long to realize this, but I have to know. Do you like me the way that I like you?”

You felt like you were going to faint. This is what you have always wanted; for Ricky to tell you that he felt the same way about you. But none of this felt right. It was as if you were stabbing your sister in the back. How could you date your sister’s ex boyfriend? How selfish could you be to say yes to him?

You mustered up the courage to finally speak up. “Ricky,”

“Yeah?” He responded hopefully, his body starting to lean closer to yours.

“I do like you, for like, a long time.”

Ricky let out a relieved breath, slowly inching his head closer to yours. Your breath hitched in your throat just as his nose touched yours, but you placed a hand on his chest, preventing him from moving any closer.

“But I can’t be with you.”

He pulled away, his smiled faded into a frown.

“You still dated my sister, and I know you mean no harm, but I can’t do that to her. I really do like you, and I wish I would be with you the way you want to, but we can’t. It’s not right.”

He shook his head sadly, taking a small step back from where you stood. You felt a pain in your chest as you regretted rejecting him.

An awkward silence grew over you two, making you feel uneasy. Your skin itched the more you stood quietly.

“We’re still friends, right?” You asked shyly.

The corner of Ricky’s lips turned upwards, a sense of relief washed over you. “Always.”

“Let me know if you change your mind, I’m always here.”

You grinned, holding your arms out for Ricky to come to you. He greatfully scooted closer and wrapped his arms around your waist, yours around his neck. You felt so comfortable again, having him hold you. His hands on your torso felt like it grew slightly tighter. You mirrored him by holding him closer to you for a little longer.

➢➣ ➢➣

“Can we talk?”

You looked up from your laptop on your lap. Your back was up against the headboard of your bed, typing out some of your homework assigned. Nini was standing by the doorway, a soft smile on her face.

“Yeah, something wrong?” You shut your laptop and put it on your bedside table, making room for your sister.

She climbed your bed and sat in front of you, crossing her legs. “I know what you did today.”

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and rolling your head back.

“Look, Nini, I’m so sorry-”

“Why? I’m not mad.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, I promise I-wait, what?” You ramble.

“Ricky told me what happened. He said that he finally told you that he liked you, and you felt the same but you wouldn’t do anything because you didn’t want to hurt me.”

“I never want to disrespect you, you’re my sister.”

Nini sighed as she crawled up next to you and sit right by your side. She placed her hand on your arm, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Don’t you think I know how much you have given up for me for our entire lives?”

You raised an eyebrow, confused as to what she was implying.

“Like that Christmas when you gave me your cupcake, and when you took the blame for me for knocking over that vase, and when you hid your feelings for Ricky from me, and when you gave me $10 to buy lunch, and now you rejected Ricky just because you didn’t want to hurt me.”

“Wait, you knew I liked Ricky?”

“I figured it out after we broke up.”

You groaned, resting your elbows on your knees and shoving your face in your hands.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop being sorry, Y/N. You have done so much for me, and I have been the terrible sister for not being able to do anything for you. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head at your sister, but she held up her hand before you could continue.

“Let me do something for you. Text Ricky right now and say you will go out an a date with him.”

“No, Nini, I can’t.” You started.

“Trust me, it’s weird for me, too. It’s so weird to think of my sister and my ex being together. But you deserve to be happy, and it’s not like I hate his guts or anything.”

You both laugh together. You finally felt complete relief inside, especially now that your sister was happy for you. You brought your sister into your arms, hugging her as tightly as you could.

“Thank you, Nini.” You whispered.

“I know, I’m the best big sister ever.”

“By like five minutes.”

“Shut up and text him already!”

You laughed, unplugging your phone from its charger and opening Ricky’s contact.

Y/N

want to go hang out afterschool tomorrow?

Ricky

i thought you’d never ask

A/N - im not going to lie i got real carried away with this one . i also said i would update yesterday but i totally neglected my ap test oops . so hope u guys like this one and next update will be saturday !! love y’all xx

taglist - @love-joshy @mzzjads

[drabbles-of-writing]

Bane of Blight’s

This is part of my Four Years AU

AO3

Masterpost

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The Blight’s were sophisticated, refined, and, well... complicated.

They were one of the richest families in the Boiling Isles, and they wouldn’t let anyone forget it. The heads of the house were the peak of intimidation. And they’re kids were raised to follow in their footsteps.

Unfortunately for them, the Blight kids were anything but that.

“Who in this Titan forsaken house replaced my hair dye with paint?”

“It was Ed,”

“I trusted you!”

Amity slammed open the bathroom door, her hair still dripping and holding a towel covered in the green paint she’d tried to wipe off.

“Edric!”

The twin bolted down the hallway as Emira laughed, her head poking out of her room as her brother ran for his life.

Amity rushed out of the bathroom, still holding the towel full of paint as she chased Edric.

He ran to the stairway, but instead of running down the stairs, he vaulted over the railing and then landed on the stairs.

There was a loud thud and fumbling that made both sisters wince.

“...uh, Ed?” Emira called, slinking out of her room and next to Amity, who was leaning over the railing.

“I’m fine!” Came Edric’s muffled reply. “Ow, ow,”

“Did you break your leg again?” Emira asked as Amity hurried to the stairs and squinted at the railing going down and then the steps themselves.

“Nope! I’m A-okay!” Edric said, sitting up from where he crashed near the bottom of the stairs and giving his twin sister a thumbs up. “Just bruised everything.”

“You’re gonna wish you’d broken something when I’m through with you,” Amity growled, jumping onto the railing and sliding down far faster than either of her siblings could react.

Edric yelped and tried to make a break for it. Amity hopped off at the end and landed on her older brother, tumbling both of them down the last three steps or so.

Amity sat up on her brother and raised her paint-covered towel, a look of murder in her gaze.

“Wait, wait! I can buy you new dye!” Edric cried, seeing his doom and covering his face.

“You sealed your own fate.” Amity said darkly before throwing the towel on Edric’s head and proceeding to smother him with it.

Edric’s screams of terror were muffled as Amity held the towel to his face and Emira’s loud laughing from atop the stairs.

“Don’t think you’re safe!” Amity warned, one hand still on the towel as she pointed another up at her sister. “You let this happen!”

“It was either I let him replace your dye or I let him do something else I wasn’t aware of,” Emira defended. “Would you rather have dealt with what else he had planned?”

Amity glared for a moment before shoving Edric’s head down again when he tried to sit up.

“Fine, but you’re on thin ice.”

“Mittens, come on--”

Amity smothered Edric with more intensity.

“You two are so lucky mom and dad aren’t home,” Emira shook her head as she slid down the stairs, albeit at a much slower speed.

“Which is why I was trying to be fast today!” Amity snapped. “I’m supposed to meet with Luz later, and now I have my hair to worry about!”

She realized her mistake too late. Edric surged up from the ground and knocked Amity off of him, the towel falling off and revealing the paint smeared across his face.

“Luz?” Emira and Edric asked excitedly.

“I shouldn’t have spoken,” Amity groaned, throwing her head back and flopping onto her back.

“Oooh, is Mittens going on a date?” Emira grinned.

“No, I’m--” Amity paused, squinting her eyes at Edric as she looked over the light green paint he was trying to wipe off with the towel he just ditched and instead just making it worse.

“I’m...I’m not.” Amity shook her head. “It’s just a little training and studying.”

“Aw, it’s a nerdy date!” Emira cooed. “No wonder you were so--don’t eat that.”

Emira slapped Edric’s hand away after noticing he had tried to experimentally lick the paint he’d found on there.

“It’s not a date!” Amity snapped, sitting up and glaring at her siblings. “It’s just friends helping each other out.” She said stubbornly, standing.

“You got paint on the carpet,” Edric said, pointing towards the carpet where, sure enough, there was a large green stain from Amity’s hair.

“Oh come on,” Amity groaned. “I’m gonna be so late.” She grumbled, already looking around for a fresh towel or paper towels.

“...tell you what,” Emira said, slinging an arm around her little sister's shoulders. “When’s this date with Luz?”

“Not a date, and in a little under an hour.” Amity said, giving her sister a look. “Why?”

“Okay, first of all, you are suicidal in thinking you could dye your hair and leave it wet while going out. I admire that.” Emira said matter-of-factly. “Second of all, I’ll clean up.” She said sweetly.

“By which I mean Ed’s gonna clean it up.” She said, bringing her arm back.

“Wait, what?” Edric cried, pulling his hand away from where he was trying to lick it again.

“What’s the catch?” Amity crossed her arms and eyed her sister suspiciously.

“Ah, you know me so well.” Emira grinned mischievously. “Let’s say, in exchange, I’ll be asking for, let’s say, information on where that hideout in Hexside is.”

“Do you...do you mean the shortcuts those double-track kids use?” Amity blinked. “What makes you think I know where that is?”

“Because Luz also hangs out there, and we all know you would’ve followed her there.” Edric but-in.

“...sure.” Amity mumbled. “But you didn’t hear it from me, alright? And no trouble there, you understand? I mean it, that place is really important to Luz’s friends.” She warned, pointing a finger at her sister.

“I swear on the Blight’s name itself,” Emira swore, raising her hand. “Are we good? Can I know?” She asked right after, already giddy with excitement.

Amity glanced at the mess she and Edric had caused, paint staining the carpet, towel, and the mess that was in the bathroom. She then looked towards the clock. Twenty-five minutes left.

“Fine! It’s in the detention tr--,” Amity slapped Edric’s hand away from his face when he tried to lick the paint off again. “Don’t eat that.” She said.

“It’s in the detention track,” Amity said, already hurrying back up the stairs to the bathroom to wash out her hair more. “Draw a door-key thingy with the chalk on the chalkboard and it’ll open up. Are you happy?”

“Very much so, thanks.” Emira nodded. “Thanks, Mittens!”

“Whatever,” Amity grumbled, vanishing up to the second floor.

“Good luck on your date!” Edric called up. “Be back before curfew!”

“Shut up!”  

The two siblings watched where Amity had vanished again. They waited until they heard the bathroom door shut before Edric turned to Emira with a smug look.

“You want to use the hideout to impress Viney, don’t you?”

Emira whirled her head around, face flushed with horror as she realized that Edric knew.

“You tell anyone,” Emira threatened, instantly backing Edric up against the wall. “And I mean anyone,” She pointedly glanced towards where Amity had departed. “And I will personally eviscerate you.”

“Noted,” Edric squeaked, looking up at his sister in fear. “Viney? Who’s Viney? I’ve never heard that name before in my life!” He chuckled nervously.

“That’s what I thought,” Emira said, stepping back. “Now come on, we need to clean up.” She said, looking towards the stain on the carpet and towel on the floor.

She saw Edric smearing paint on his hand and trying to lick it again.

“I said don’t eat that!”

“Hey, Amity, aren’t those your siblings?”

“I don’t know them.”

Edric and Emira popped up beside Amity, the gleeful looks on their faces making Amity want to punch them.

All Amity had wanted was to have a normal conversation with her friends, acting normally, and being a generally normal person.

“Hi, guys!” Luz greeted cheerfully. “I thought upperclassmen didn’t have a lot of classes on this side of the school?”

“We don’t. Emira wanted to visit.” Edric said casually.

“Shush,” Emira sharply elbowed her brother's side. “Can’t siblings wonder how they’re little sister is doing?”

“Don’t play with me. What do you want?” Amity snapped angrily, turning around to glare at the two of them.

“Aw, hey, we don’t mind.” Luz said, placing a hand on Amity’s shoulder and conveniently missing the way her face lit up. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen them, anyway.”

“Didn’t you two put a fire rat in one of the teachers desks?” Gus asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Heh, yeah, that was fun.” Edric grinned.

“We were just wandering by and spotted you. Wanted to say hi,” Emira shrugged, giving Amity the Knowing Look™ and said sister glared back at her.

“Yes, well, thank you,” Amity said, turning away as Luz dropped her hand. “But we have classes soon.”

“I thought the upperclassmen illusion track had classes around now?” Willow asked.

“We like to skip,” Edric shrugged.

“We’re skipping,” Emira said at the same time.

“...oh I don’t like that.” Gus shook his head. “I don’t like that near in-sync thing at all.”

“You get used to it,” Amity sighed, sounding tired.

“Do you?”

Willow raised a hand and tilted it in an unsure gesture.

“Well, I think it’s kind of--” Luz cut off, her gaze drifting to something behind the twins. “Oh, hey guys!” She waved excitedly.

The rest of the group turned, wondering who Luz could be waving too.

It was the double-track kids, as the rest of the school called them. Sure, in the past year there had been plenty of more students choosing double, sometimes triple tracks, but the three were known to be The First. Luz was technically part of the group as well, though everyone knew her better as the all-track kid.

“Sup, Luz.” Jerbo greeted.

“What are you guys doing here?” Willow wondered.

“There...may or may not be a minor problem with bumbleflies…” Viney said slowly, glancing around nervously before pausing and noticing the two other upperclassmen.

Edric smiled and offered a small wave to the girl. Emira, meanwhile, was dramatically leaned against the locker doors and gave Viney a finger-gun before almost slipping off the lockers in her unsecured position.

Viney stared at the two of them for a moment, as did her other two friends. “I don’t even want to know why you two are here.” Viney sighed.

“What are bumbleflies?” Luz turned to Amity.

“Round demons with big wings and a stinger that could paralyze you for days. Or kill you if enough of them are mad.” Amity said with a shrug. “They could definitely kill Gus.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, so, bees, but worse.” Luz nodded in understanding.

“I take it you’re trying to round them up?” Willow asked. “Yeah,” Viney sighed. “It’s best to get as many as we can before Principal Bump finds out. He’s already mad enough at me and Puddles for the buttons incident.”

“I can help!” Emira suddenly said a bit too loud, causing everyone to look at her.

“I-I mean,” Emira began stuttering. “We’d be happy to help.” She said, glancing at the other kids. “I wasn’t really planning on doing much today anyways, so I might as well, right?”

“Aw, but then I’ll miss abomination class with Amity.” Luz complained sadly.

Amity blushed and gave Luz a slightly panicked and hopeful look before her eyes darted back to her siblings.

“...how about,” Edric cut-in, for once, understanding the situation. “These younglings head back to class,” He gestured to the younger witches. “And we go help Viney.” He said, pointing between him and Emira.

“Are you sure?” Luz worried. “If it’s bad, I’m sure I can--”

“It’s fine,” Jerbo insisted. “These two are Blights. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He said.

Barkus, er, barked in agreement.

The younger kids all had looks that said otherwise.

Thankfully, the bell saved them.

“Well, good luck!” Luz said with a wave. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late!” She said, grabbing Amity’s hand and practically destroying the girl in seconds.

“See ya, Mittens!” Edric waved as the witches quickly departed.

“We better get to work soon,” Viney said, looking back at the students shuffling to their next classes. “The longer those bumbleflies are out, the bigger the problem.”

Barkus growled in agreement and hurried down the hallway, Jerbo following close behind.

Viney and Edric were about to follow when Edric paused and noticed his sister was still staring off, completely oblivious to what had just gone down.

“Hey, Em,” Edric snapped his fingers in front of her face, startling her back into reality. “Bumbleflies?”

“Right, right!” Emira shook her head. “You, keep quiet.” She warned Edric, who only grinned at her in response.

“Of course, of course.”

“Ooooh, Emmy’s in loooove!”

“Edric!”

“I didn’t tell her! I swear!” Edric instantly covered his face with one of Emira’s pillows.

“You think I really couldn’t notice?” Amity laughed from where she was perched on her sister's bed frame. “Man, you’ve really got it for her, huh?”

“You’re one to talk, Amity.” Emira growled, snatching her pillow out of Edric’s hands and sitting on her bed, ears already red.

“But we’re not here to talk about me,” Amity reminded, quickly deflecting the conversation. “How was your adventure with Viney?” She taunted.

“Viney wants to see her again,” Edric responded for her, he and Amity sharing similar looks of knowing. Both in Emira’s feelings and that they would never let her forget this.

“What ever!” Emira huffed, laying down and covering her face with the pillow. “She just said she wouldn’t mind seeing me around sometime.”

“You say that like it’s such a small thing!” Edric gasped, forcefully pulling the pillow away. “Didn’t Viney used to hate you, like, a few months ago?”

“She didn’t hate me.” Emira grumbled. “She was just...cautious. She thought I was planning to ruin her or something.”

Amity and Edric glanced at each other with a smirk.

“Ruin h--”

“You know what I meant!” Emira snapped, sitting bolt upright and revealing her face was now nearly as red as Amity’s could get.

“Oh, what a tragic tale is this?” Edric said, dramatically, placing the back of his hand against his forehead. “The richest girl in Bonesborough has fallen for the poor double-tracked outcast. What a spectacle!”

“I’m going to strangle you in your sleep.” Emira threatened.

“I’ll avenge you,” Amity patted the arm of her brother comfortingly.

“Amity, if you so much as try to use this as leverage--”

“Who do you take me for?” Amity demanded. “I’m not doing that! It’s needlessly cruel.” She crossed her arms, offended that her sister would imply such a thing. “And, besides, you have leverage against me.”

“I’m a free man!” Edric cheered.

“Ed, I can name multiple times you tried to eat something you shouldn’t have. And the times you succeeded.” Emira deadpanned.

“I am no longer a free man,”

“You want us to set you up?” Amity teased coyly. “Luz is friends with her. I’m sure I could pull some strings.”

“Keep your Barely-Able-To-Function nose out of this,” Emira growled. “You’ve had a huge crush on Luz for a whole year. You don’t have any right to act like you know more.” She taunted.

“...okay, fair.” Amity relented.

“Can’t believe I’m going to die alone,” Edric whined, his head resting on the bed as he sat on the floor. “Both my sisters are gonna get dates and I’m going to be alone forever.”

“Ed, for the love of--”

[miraculouswolf99]

Music Opens A Person's Heart

I must warn you of the events that happen in this story. It is not a salt story even if there are mentions of Lila and Chloe in it. But I give the warning for how this story contains homophobic actions and talk of suicide. But this is still a story that I hope people will enjoy as it focuses on Adrien and Kagami learning more about their friends Lyon and Vallia.

Thank you and I hope you like the story.

*****

Adrien was in the locker room just finishing up all he needed to do after he finished fencing practice. He was just glad he was able to get through it without an akuma interrupting it like they usually interrupt his piano lessons and regular classes in school.

Plus, fencing was his time to hang out with Kagami without the pressure of being on a date. A date where tabloid reporters or paparazzi could harass them. He really liked Kagami, but both of them liked their privacy and hated having to deal with the constant flashing cameras, the never-ending questions about their relationship, and the speculation about the answers that they do not give.

Currently, he was going to be heading out with Kagami. His friends Lyon and Vallia invited them over for a home-cooked Greek meal. Since the twins were from Greece and both could cook quite well, they wanted to share this part of their culture with them. Kagami had been talking with Adrien about getting to know them more since they had known Adrien longer than his other friends. Other than Chloe, anyway. She was curious. Especially since they were from another country just like her.

It also helped that they also had his father's approval because of how their family is rich, very charitable, and incredibly well-connected.

Adrien soon met Kagami outside of the locker room. She was looking forward to dinner. Not only did she want to learn more about her boyfriend's friends, but she also had never tried Greek food before. She knew the names of some dishes but didn't know much more than that.

"Ready, Kagami," Adrien smiled at her and took her hand.

"I always am, Adrien," Kagami smiled back.

They were on their way out of Dupont when they heard something. It was music coming from somewhere else in the school. The sounds of a violin.

"You hear that too, right," Adrien asked his girlfriend.

"I believe I do," Kagami says. "Whoever is playing is really quite talented."

The two were very curious, so they followed the music. The music room did not get much use at Dupont. All the musicians that attended the school mostly preferred private practice or just performing for their friends like with Kitty Section. Kagami was still confused by their choice of a band name. She just didn't understand why such a silly and odd name was their choice. And if he was being honest with himself, Adrien didn't understand either. But they both mostly just shrugged it off.

Walking toward the music room, the two could hear the violin music more clearly. It was a beautiful soft tune that also had some type of musical feeling to it. Like they could tell that it belonged in a Disney movie or a Broadway show.

They opened the door and walked in. They were shocked by what they saw.

Inside the music room was Lyon Garden, the Ice Prince himself. He was playing the violin was as much grace and elegance as someone that had probably been playing it for years. His eyes seemed to be closed and his back was to the door, so he had no idea that they had come inside. There was no sign of his Flower Princess twin sister, Vallia Garden.

He continued to play until the song ended. Adrien and Kagami were both really impressed by the Greek's skill on the violin. He had never revealed much about what he liked to do other than archery. And most really only knew about his skills with a bow because when anyone annoyed him or made him mad, he would threaten to shoot them with an arrow. And considering that he was as skilled in archery as Adrien and Kagami were at fencing, odds are that he would not miss if he did shoot at someone.

When he stopped playing, Adrien and Kagami could not help but start clapping, applauding the amazing performance. Lyon immediately shot around, his eyes now fully open as he saw that he had gained an audience of two people. He did look relieved when he saw that it was just Adrien and Kagami. If it was anyone else, he might have been reaching for his bow.

"You two are lucky that I am holding my violin instead of my bow," he said, returning to his Ice Prince persona. "I don't do well with people sneaking up on me."

"You and Kagami will get along great, then," Adrien chuckled.

The fencing prodigy lightly punched him, Adrien bringing out her playful side the more they spent time with each other.

"You are really talented, Lyon," Kagami complimented the archer.

"I have been practicing the violin for years," Lyon says. "I find it to be an elegant instrument with a lovely sound. Unless you play it wrong and then it sounds like a dying cat."

That made the two fencers laughed at his comparison. Lyon then checked the time on his phone.

"I guess I was playing longer than I thought that I was," he said. "Can't have you two coming over and not even be in my own house to greet you two."

He packed up his violin and then walked over to the fencers with his bag and violin case. They both smiled at him as they all left together.

"I take it that Vallia is already at your house," Adrien guessed.

"Yeah," Lyon nodded. "She is probably gathering all the herbs that we need from our greenhouse as we speak."

"Is it a coincidence that you guys have a rooftop greenhouse or did you specifically choose that house," Adrien asked.

Lyon and Vallia live with their father in a manor/mansion almost as big as Agreste Mansion. It is just on the next street from Adrien's place. The Garden family now owned it and made it a family vacation home where they were currently living while they were in Paris. They even turned a side room on the bottom floor into a flower shop so that their father had a job even while their family sanctuary would keep them rich for generations to come.

"It was unused when we moved in," Lyon says. "We had to fix it up, add new windows, and install a sprinkling system for when we can not do the watering ourselves."

They started walking to the Garden vacation home. Thankfully it was a slow day and not even Hawkmoth was active. The last thing that the secret Cat Noir and White Wolf needed was to have their dinner ruined by an akuma attack.

"I have seen this place on the market for years," Adrien says as they approach the manor. "It's been so long that I never thought that it would be bought."

"I think that the saying is 'never say never,' Adrien," Kagami tells her boyfriend.

"Well, I certainly have learned my lesson now," Adrien chuckled.

He placed his arm around her as they got closer to the house. When they got to the door, he opened it for her and Kagami let out the closest thing to a giggle that she could let out and then went inside.

"You two are sickly sweet," Lyon playfully rolled his eyes. "My sweet tooth hurts, now."

"Don't get used to it," Adrien smirked. "Once Kagami gets a sword into her hand, sweet is probably the last word that you would ever use to describe her."

"You are lucky that I do not have my sword with me right now, Agreste," Kagami slapped him on the shoulder again.

"You two are fencers, my sister is a master at the bo-staff, I've seen Marinette and her mom both use martial arts very well," Lyon rolled his eyes. "I have surrounded myself with violent people and I did not even know it."

"Just lucky, I guess," Adrien chuckled.

"Plus, there had also been Mason..." Lyon froze after he said that name, completely freezing.

"Uh... Lyon," Kagami waved her hand in front of her new friend's face.

She shared a look with Adrien. They had never seen Lyon freeze like this before. He could make you feel like you had a case of frostbite with his icy attitude sometimes, but this was something new to them.

"Paris to Lyon," Adrien shook his shoulder.

It took a minute, but Lyon eventually snapped out of whatever trance he had been put in.

"My apologies," he said. "I do not know what happened."

"Let's... Let's just go upstairs," Adrien says.

Lyon nodded. He led them up the stairs. Sharing another look, the couple followed him. They did not know much about what had happened, but there was something familiar about it to them. To Adrien, it was like when he first tried to talk about his mom after she went missing. To Kagami, it was like after her father had first died. Lyon was feeling grief and froze when he mentioned the person he was grieving over.

It was a very quiet walk up the stairs. Lyon had a tendency to go icy a lot, but that was more because he generally liked to be quiet and cold in crowds. He uses it as a way to filter out those that are trustworthy or not. To see which ones are brave enough to see if there is a heart beyond the icy persona.

As they entered the main area of the house, upstairs, the French boy and Japanese girl felt like they had been teleported to Greece. The walls were all completely white but were lined at the bottom with a beautiful ocean wave-like painting at the bottom, where the wall met the floor. The floor was also mostly ocean-themed tile with some silver and blue carpets dotted here and there. There were also multiple pictures on the walls with either their family, their family sanctuary, the animals in the sanctuary, or just pictures of the Greece scenery.

The furniture was also mostly typical chairs made out of strong strands of wood that were woven together as a basket would be. Some were regular tan wood while others were white. But they all had cushions to make them more comfortable. There were two couches in the living room with the chairs. One was a regular white leather couch while the other was a bench-like couch that was hanging from the ceiling by strong but thin white ropes.

The manor was divided by floors, so it was very different on the inside to Agreste Mansion.

Soon after they got into the room, Vallia came walking down another set of stairs. In her arms was a Little Red Riding Hood-type basket that was filled with a lot of herbs.

"Welcome to Garden Manor," she smiled at the two of them.

"Thank you for the invite," Adrien smiled back.

"It's a pleasure meeting you," Kagami says.

Vallia puts the basket down and then shakes Kagami's offered hand. She eyed her brother, who had seemed to have gone into his icy persona, which was unusual since he was around her and their friends.

"I'll be right back to help with dinner, Vallia," Lyon tells her. "I... I just need something in my room."

"Oh... Okay," was all Vallia managed to say before Lyon almost seems to run out of the room.

"I don't think I have ever seen him act like that before," Adrien says. "Yes, he is the Ice Prince to those like Lila and Chloe, but this is different from that."

"Did something happen on your way over," Vallia asked as she took the basket of herbs into their very large kitchen.

"Well, would it matter that we found Lyon playing the violin before we came here," Kagami said. "Would that be relevant?"

Vallia sadly nodded. "He mention anyone?"

"Well, we were having a nice talk on our way here," Adrien tells her. "He was joking about being around so many violent people."

"Then he mentioned someone by the name of Mason," Kagami says. "That was when he froze up."

Vallia sighed again. "Yeah, that would pretty much do it."

"Who is Mason," Adrien asked. "But you do not have to tell us if you don't want to."

Vallia looked at them, thinking what she could say. The twins have always been private people, one of the reasons why they don't like Alya and her need to film so many things, but did not mean that they could not open up just like everyone else.

"You two might want to sit down for this," Vallia says, sitting in a chair herself.

Adrien and Kagami took a seat on the hanging couch, which was the closet piece of furniture to the gardener.

"Is everything okay," Kagami asked her.

"We'll be fine," Vallia says. "Lyon just needs some time. He cared about Mason more than almost everyone in the family."

"Who is he," Adrien asked.

"Mason is... Mason was... our older brother," Vallia started, shocking the couple. "He was older than Lyon and I, but younger than our brother Apollo. The violin you saw Lyon play used to belong to him. He plays it to always have a part of Mason with him since he had been a violin prodigy."

"What happened to him," Kagami asked.

"Well, you two know fully well that Lyon is gay," Vallia says.

The couple nodded. Lyon was very out about who he chose to love. And the fact that he and Luka never really hid when they were making-out certainly made it loud and clear which way that they swung. Adrien always snickered when he would see the very obvious twitch of annoyance in Lila's eyes when she was around and saw them. Adrien knew that it was because now there was another rich and handsome guy that she could not lie her way into a relationship with. Especially when he, himself, started publically referring to Kagami as his girlfriend.

"I think there isn't anyone in Paris that doesn't know that," Adrien chuckled even with the tense atmosphere.

"He is very open with his relationship with Couffaine," Kagami says. "I once caught them making out after practice."

"I don't think a single person in school hasn't caught them," Adrien chuckled again. "I once saw Lyon chasing after Aurore and threatening to shoot her with an arrow because she had apparently taken a few pictures of him and Luka. She was laughing the whole time, so I don't think she knew how serious Lyon was about shooting her."

"He only shoots poachers, animal abusers, and animal traffickers, if I remember correctly," Kagami said.

"Yes, but we are getting off track," Vallia got their attention again. "The point is, Mason was also gay. He came out of us when he was twelve. We accepted him, of course, but not everyone was like us."

"God," Adrien gasped since as a model, he knew how much the world of fashion was very open to the LGBT community, so homophobia was horrific to him.

"Mason was very popular, especially once he got to high school," Vallia continued. "His friends knew he was gay, but Mason was also very private. So he was not really out in the open as Lyon is. So he was also very popular with the girls since they did not know better. But one girl was not going to take 'no' for an answer once she saw a handsome and rich guy like Mason."

"I guess that is why Lyon hates Lila so much," Adrien said. "He sees her constantly hanging on my arm no matter how much I tell her to let go."

"Do I need to threaten her with my sword... again," Kagami reached for the blade that was in her fencing bag.

"Later, Kagami," Adrien put his hand on her girlfriend's.

"Her name had been Cleo Sora," Vallia says. "She was basically like the worst versions of Chloe and Lila out into one person. The Queen Bee of the school that did anything to keep her power and always seem like the most important person around. She saw Mason and thought that he would be the perfect King Bee, even when that is not a thing. He turned her down... a lot. No matter what she did, how she dressed, or how much she tried to drape herself over him, he always made it clear that he would never be interested in her. It came to the point that his friends were basically a protection squad to keep her away from him."

"Sounds like what Nino and Kim have become to protect Marinette from Lila," Adrien said.

"The problem was that since Cleo was very popular, and that she had powerful tv hosts as parents, she always had people listening to her," Vallia says. "The more Mason rejected her, the angrier that she got. She saw herself as perfect and as basically more perfect than even Aphrodite, the literal goddess of beauty. That was when she eavesdropped on Mason and his friends and found out he was gay. She didn't like that."

"Oh my," Kagami gasped, not liking where the story was going.

"She started vicious rumors about Mason," Vallia looked to be fighting tears. "Saying that he only had friends because he slept with them all, that hit any girl that approached him in private, that he abused the animals that he took care of at the sanctuary. More and more people turned their backs on Mason no matter how many times he and his friends denied everything. Not even pointing out that there was never any proof to the rumors helped them."

"This girl really is like Lila and Chloe," Adrien said. "Only worse. Not even Lila has lied about Marinette sleeping with anyone. And Chloe only ruins days, not lives."

"Mason might have been six years older than us, but Lyon and I saw how much it was hurting him," Vallia could not stop the tears that flowed down her face. "Mason became more distant by the day. He started to stop coming to dinner and barely showed up at the sanctuary anymore. He was strong, but even the strongest wall gets knocked down if you hit it enough. Cleo managed to find him in private and threatened that if did not give up his 'f*****t way of life' and date her, she would scream rape to everyone within hearing distance."

"God," Adrien gasped.

"Lyon was the one that found him," Vallia was barely keeping it together. "Mason was hanging by the ceiling fan in his room. Lyon freaked and basically lost it. Mason couldn't take it any longer. His resistance broke and could not take the shame that such a rumor would bring to our family. That was also the day that the 'Ice Prince' was born. None of us were ever the same, but Lyon was especially hit. Mason was a hero to Lyon, probably the one person Lyon would ever see as perfect. Mason killing himself basically froze Lyon's heart for a long time."

Kagami might have been known as the Ice Queen around Dupont, but she looked to be fighting her own tears as she heard the story. Adrien was looking down the hall where Lyon had disappeared down. He had no idea that his friend held so much pain inside of him.

"We had no idea," Adrien said.

"Lyon doesn't like talking about him," Vallia says. "He wants to keep it under lock and key as long as possible."

"I get it," Kagami says. "I know more than others how much easier it is to hide our real emotions behind a mask of ice."

"If I was in Lyon's place, I probably would have done the same thing," Adrien admitted.

"Lyon can be very open when he wants to be, but he will always have a wall up," Vallia said. "Playing the violin, Mason's violin,  helps him remember without breaking down."

"Music soothes the savage beasts," Adrien remembered from one of the trips their class had taken to the zoo.

Vallia nodded. "If there is one thing that Lyon knows, it's that music has power."

Adrien and Kagami had both known pain and loss. They were not going to push Lyon, but they knew that they were going to be there for him. After all, Adrien was a musician as well. So he knew the healing power that music had as well.

[twiistedgalaxies]

Genesis: Chapter 1: Schoolyard Days

Summary:  How two brothers can take two opposite paths. How a man can be made into a monster and how the other must pay the ultimate price to save everything he knows and loves. Or, alternatively: The origins of All for One and One for All.

A/N:  All for One is Midoriya Hisashi, but this isn't super relevant since this fic takes place a couple hundred years before canon. This fic is heavily inspired by a lot of other fanfictions that I've read, including the amazing story "Family Secrets" by WinteryFall, which I highly recommend. That fic in particular is why I headcanon that the original holder of OFA was named Tomura, and that Tenko was named after him to satisfy AFO's overinflated ego. In this chapter Hisashi is fifteen and Tomura is eleven.

Sunlight streamed into the room from the crack between the large, thick curtains, causing motes of dust in the air to glow softly before they reached the plush carpet. The room was small, cramped. The walls were plastered in movie posters and dirty laundry formed piles on the floor. Every flat surface had knick-knacks and toys strewn upon it, tossed hastily aside in favor of something else. There was a bunk bed wedged into the corner, blankets and sheets just as messy as the rest of their surroundings. Upon it slumbered two boys. On the bottom bunk lay Tomura Shigaraki, his long white hair splayed out on a stained pillow, framing his cherubic face like a halo. His face was peaceful, relaxed. A thin line of drool was stuck to his chin, and with it, a few strands of hair. His palms faced the sky, arms outstretched and torso covered by a thin cotton blanket, the rest discarded at his feet to stave off the summer heat. On the top bunk was his brother, older by a few years, Hisashi Shigaraki, he was curled up into a tight ball, tense, with blankets nestled at his back. His hair was shorter than his brother’s and stuck up at odd angles as the result of a restless night.

    The wooden door opened with a soft creak, as their mother, Hana, poked her head into the room, a fond smile on her face as she prepared to wake them. The sweet smell of pancakes filled the air, and she could hear the faint whistle of the kettle in her kitchen. She cleared her throat, causing Hisashi to stir, “Boys,” she began, “It’s time to get up.”

    Hisashi groaned, grabbing his pillow to cover his head and ears. Tomura mumbled something incoherent, and shifted slightly. Both clearly were unwilling to get out of bed and face the torment that was the first day of school.

    “I made pancakes,” She said, voice light and teasing as the boys woke with a start, practically tripping over each other in their efforts to get to the kitchen. Hana had to press her back against the wall to allow them to storm through the narrow hallway of their apartment.

    “Hisashi!” She heard Tomura shriek as they entered the kitchen. The offending teen’s hand was wet and poised to flick more water at his little brother’s face. He wore a shit eating grin at Tomura’s expense.

    “Hisashi, stop tormenting your brother,” Hana said, making her way into the room.

    “But mom,” he began to protest, only to be cut off.

    “Besides, I can’t give you two pancakes if you’re standing in the kitchen, now can I?” She continued with a wry grin. Hisashi let out a huff of defeat and made his way to the kitchen table, Tomura in tow. Hana carefully deposited the pancakes onto three plates, slathering them with butter. The pancakes were a newer tradition in the Shigaraki household. Several years ago, when Hisashi was just five and Tomura a toddler, they had emigrated to the United States from Japan after many long years of waiting for citizenship. The flight to the large country was a long one, and the first meal they ate in this foreign land was in a Denny’s at some unseemly hour. They had pancakes, eggs, and hashbrowns. Hana spent her time trying to understand just how Americans can have such ridiculous portions, whilst her husband and son dug into a stack of sickeningly sweet pancakes.

    The two siblings continued to hassle each other at the kitchen table, resulting in peals of laughter and the occasional shout of offense. As wonderful as it was to see them in such high spirits, Hana couldn’t help but wince, pitying their neighbors who were trying to get some sleep. She drowned one of the pancakes in syrup, Tomura’s, while leaving the others untouched. Hisashi had grown to inherit her disdain for things overly sugary, especially after the stomachache he had from the Denny’s fiasco. Hana set the plates on the table in front of her sons, “Now, what did I tell you about going to school again?”

    “Make sure I take my medicine and visit the nurse’s office,” Tomura chirped. She nodded and ruffled his hair fondly, “And remember to give her your doctor’s note, it’s in your binder in your backpack.”

    “Don’t pick fights with the other kids,” Hisashi said, not seeming happy about his parents’ command, “though the brats deserve it.” Hana leveled him with a stern glare, but didn’t say anything. Her eldest knew damn well the consequences of brawling with his peers. Last year, he had gotten into a particularly legendary scuffle that put two kids into the hospital and nearly got him expelled. It was only his high grades, the top in his class, that spared him from that fate. Instead he had a month of suspension and several more of being grounded. He was on thin ice, and Hana really didn’t feel like having to transfer him to another school in the middle of his high school career, especially since the school in question was so close and integrated with Tomura’s middle school to save space.

    “Also try to avoid taking the main roads,” Hana said, sitting down to eat, “I heard there’s going to be another protest today, and I don’t want you both caught up in that mess.”

    “Yes mom,” the two chorused, though their words were muffled by the pancakes in their mouths. 

    Breakfast continued without event, they talked about their hopes for the new school year, and soon the boys were off. Hana hugged each of them close before they departed, and if they noticed her embrace went on for longer than usual, neither chose to comment on it.

-@~*^*~@-

    Tomura clutched the strap of his backpack, nervously stroking his fingers on the scratchy fabric. The doors of his middle school seemed large and intimidating. A steady stream of students poured into the hallways, parting around him in careful avoidance as he stood on the concrete steps. “It’s just middle school,” he muttered under his breath, leaning on his cane, “Not that much different from elementary school, just a bigger place, with scary teachers and much scarier students and-” He cut himself off, swallowing nervously. It would be fine, probably. He entered the school and made his way to the nurse’s office. The chatter of students and the squeaking of shoes on linoleum floors was deafening. His heart rate picked up, and he felt the familiar weight of anxiety in his chest as he pressed himself to the locker lined wall in an effort to avoid being trampled.

    The nurse’s office was sterile, white, and smelled like expired antiseptic. The school nurse was an older woman, her face marred with wrinkles and her gray hair thin and straw-like. She was slightly overweight, and wore a colorful, floral print blouse. When Tomura entered the room, she was looking at something on her computer, chewing on the eraser end of her pencil. “Hello?” Tomura said after a long while of awkward silence, he stepped towards her cautiously, like one would a wild animal. This woman would be responsible for his frail health in the next few years, and would hopefully be less short-tempered than the last nurse he had the misfortune of dealing with.

    She looked up, surprised, and peered at him over her half-moon glasses, “Yes dearie?”

    “I- My name is Tomura Shigaraki, I have some medicine I have to take every afternoon and I uh,” he pulled his backpack off his back and set it on his floor, digging around inside it, “I have a doctor’s note and everything.” He pulled out the slip of white paper, upon it was a school issued forum with a lot of technical medical stuff. He’d be excused from PE, among a whole host of other accommodations. 

    The school nurse looked it over, a thoughtful expression on her face, “EDS?”

    “Yes ma’am,” he replied, nodding hurriedly, wincing at the crick in his neck that it caused.

    “What’s that?” She asked, looking through her desk drawer, likely a filing cabinet of some kind.

    Tomura felt his eye twitch with mild annoyance, but he quashed it down, “Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome,” he paused, searching her face for a reaction, “It’s a connective tissue disorder.”

    The nurse gave him a blank look, clearly not understanding, “I see, well Tomura, my name is Ms. Bell. It says here that you need to take anti-inflammatories and muscle relaxers each morning.”

    He nodded, “Yeah, EDS makes me hypermobile which causes the muscles around my joints to freak out and makes my tendons inflamed.”

    She nodded and wrote something down on a separate piece of paper, using the pencil she had been mercilessly chewing on earlier. 

    “Uh, my joints also tend to dislocate a lot, it’s why I’m wearing this leg brace. I might have to come in because of that too.”

    Ms. Bell raised an eyebrow, her expression doubtful, “It can’t possibly be that bad.”

    Tomura chuckled mirthlessly, “I wish.”

    “Well,” Ms. Bell began, waving her hands towards the door dismissively, “You should probably get your schedule before the bell rings, I’ll see you before lunch.”

    He nodded hurriedly and scooped up his bag, careful to keep his joints from sliding out of place. 

    The rest of the day went relatively smoothly, he had an extra elective to make up for the lost PE credit, and had it right before lunch. It was an art class, the one he was most excited for other than math, and he had to leave five minutes early to begin his long trek across the school to the nurse’s office to take his medications. Throughout the day, kids gave him a wide berth, clearly trying to size him up. Sadly, this meant he ate alone at a small table, directly in the searing sunlight. Whispers followed him in the halls as students gossiped about the new cripple. Tomura hated it, but was relieved that whispers were all there were. For now.

    His math class was at the end of the day, and he made sure to show up a little bit early, before passing period, to give his teacher the same speech he had to give all the others earlier that day.

    “Hi,” he began.

    His math teacher, a young man in his mid-thirties, looked up from his lesson plan, “Hello.”

    There was an awkward silence. This conversation was off to a great start. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m disabled and will be absent pretty often.”

    The teacher blinked, “I can see that.”

    “Er, on my 504 it says I can ask for deadline extensions and the ability to make up work,” Tomura wrung his hands together nervously, “My mom told me to give all my teachers a heads up about it so uh, here it is.”

    The man hummed, “I’ll keep that in mind. Your seat is at the table in the back corner, there should be a slip of paper with your name on it.”

    “Thank you,” he replied, face flush red with embarrassment. He made his way to his seat and rummaged through his backpack, pulling out the materials listed on the white board as the bell rang and students filed into the room. The teacher introduced himself and went over the syllabus. Everyone tuned him out and the classroom was filled with hushed chatter as students got to know each other. Tomura found himself sitting on the sidelines, observing rather than participating in conversation. Socializing was never his strong suit, he’d always left that to his older brother.

    Soon the math teacher, Mr. Burns, had the class do an ice breaker, something that Tomura had never really cared for, even when he was younger. He had much preferred the online learning that the pandemic a few years ago brought, at least he wouldn’t have to play 20 questions with a bunch of people who probably didn’t like him at best and despised the exercise even more than he did. The students had to go around the room and ask each other questions to fill out a bingo card. He hovered awkwardly at his desk, frozen with anxiety. A warm hand on Tomura’s shoulder made him jump, he whirled around to see a young boy his age. He had ginger hair and his face was covered in a smattering of freckles. “Heya,” the boy said, holding out his hand in greeting, “My name’s Zach, what’s your name? Why’s your hair white? What’s that weird thing on your leg? Why do you have a cane? Oooh are you secretly an old dude? I like your Captain America shirt, do you like superheroes? Marvel or DC?”

    Tomura just stared in shock as Zach barraged him with questions, some intrusive and some friendly. He held out his hands in a placating gesture, “Hold- Hold on a second, okay? I can’t answer that many questions at once!”

    “Sorry, sorry, You just seem really interesting!”

    “It’s fine,” Tomura ran his hands through his hair nervously, not used to the sudden attention, “Let’s just start with the questions on the bingo sheet.”

    Zach’s face lit up, and the two talked for the entire time allowed for the ice breaker. They both really loved comic books, and while many of Zach’s questions were intrusive, Tomura could tell that unlike most of their peers, there was no malice behind it. Once the icebreaker ended the class watched a short film about math with a bunch of classic Disney characters. The two boys sat next to each other through the whole thing, making eachother crack up as they quietly made fun of the cheesy movie, much to Mr. Burns’s dismay. Their conversation continued until after school, arguing about comic book franchises all the way to the school’s front gate.

    “Do you want to walk home together? I live pretty far away but maybe we can talk some more!” Zach suggested.

    “Where do you live?” Tomura asked.

    “Oh, I live about half an hour’s walk that way,” Zach gestured to the opposite direction of where Tomura’s house was.

    “I’m sorry, I can’t,” Tomura replied, shaking his head regretfully, “My apartment is on the other side of town, besides, my brother and I usually walk home together.”

    “You have a brother?”

    “Yeah, he’s in the high school next door.”

    “Cool!”

    “Well, I had fun meeting you Zach, do you want to eat lunch together tomorrow?” Tomura asked, shuffling his feet nervously.

    “Sure! I should probably get going before my dad gets upset,” Zach’s expression grew a little grim at the last part, but Tomura shrugged it off.

    “Bye!” Tomura said, as Zach headed off.

    “See ya!”

    The loneliness that followed his new friend’s absence was much more crushing and all-encompassing than it was this morning. Tomura sat down on the curb and pulled out his phone while he waited for his brother. He opened his browser, his homepage was stuffed to the brim with various news articles speaking of political instability, economic downturns, and conspiracy theories that had grown in popularity over the course of the past few years. Ignoring the day to day prophecies of doom the headlines foretold, Tomura directed Chrome to his favorite comic website, and dug into a new webcomic he had found the day before. It was Lore Olympus, a retelling of the kidnapping of Persephone, written by Rachel Smythe. He found the characters compelling, and the modern spin put on such a classic tale interesting. However, he’d never admit to reading something so girly as a romance comic, which is why he jumped about a foot in the air when he heard his brother call his name.

    “Hey,” he said, voice cracking as Hisashi approached from behind.

    “What are you reading?”

    “Uh, nothing!” Tomura replied as he shut off his phone, hastily shoving it into his pocket. He stood up, hands clutching his backpack straps like a life line once again.

    Hisashi smirked, sensing his younger brother’s discomfort like a shark to blood, “It doesn’t look like nothing,” he teased.

    “Shut up.”

    “Come on, there’s no harm in telling me is there?” His eyes widened in mock surprise, “Or is it something you aren’t supposed to be reading?”

    “No no no, it’s nothing like that! I’m not even into that stuff,” Tomura’s face grew beet red as he tried to hide his face in his hands, “I’m only eleven!” He speedily began walking towards their apartment, which was a few blocks away.

    Hisashi clicked his tongue, trailing behind him, “Oh mother would be so disappointed.”

    “It’s just a webcomic!”

    “Sure, sure, if you say so.”

    Tomura let out a groan of frustration and distress, which just made his older brother break his cool composure and laugh. They both rounded the corner, walking through a strip mall that held a gas station, deli, and used electronics store. The latter of which displayed a myriad of TVs in the shop window, all of which were playing the news.

    “Here to talk about the strange increase in birth defects and mutations in newborns is Dr. Garaki, a specialist from Japan.”

    Hisashi stopped in front of the shop window, it seemed like that little snippet had caught his attention. Their parents didn’t play the news very often. Between their father’s juggling of several minimum wage jobs, and their mother’s job in a nail salon, they were barely able to keep afloat. According to their mom, they didn’t want the extra stress in the house. Tomura could understand why, even social media stressed him out. Hisashi thought it was stupid. The man onscreen was stout, wore round gleaming spectacles, and had a cartoonishly bushy mustache, which was the only hair on his head. He wore a lab coat, and Tomura couldn’t help but think he resembled Dr. Eggman from the Sonic cartoons. 

    “Well, you see, I believe this to be the next step in evolution for humanity. These are not defects, but rather mutations in genetic code. We still have yet to see where this goes, but when you look at the genome sequences of these newborns..”

    The scientist kept rambling in jargon Tomura couldn’t really understand, he glanced at his brother, who looked absolutely enraptured by the interview.

    “As for why there’s so many sudden mutations and why children have started presenting odd abilities? Perhaps it is the pandemic that swept through the world not so many years ago, the virus may have altered our DNA. Or perhaps it’s what we put in our water and food, studies have shown that..”

    “Hisashi,” Tomura interrupted, “We should head home, we’re really close to the main road and mom told us not to go on those.”

    His brother opened his mouth to protest, but as he did, they heard commotion from the street that ran parallel to them, where most of the shops were. It seemed like the protest had begun. “Fine,” he sighed, looking torn between the story that caught his interest and his little brother’s pleading gaze, his lips twitched, “but you’re telling me exactly what it is you were reading.”

    The boys started walking again, “Are you ever going to drop this?”

    “Nope! I just want to know what my kid brother’s up to.”

    Tomura reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, keeping his head down as he opened up the web comic. He began to ramble about Lore Olympus as his brother listened fondly, making the occasional teasing remark. The walk to their apartment building seemed to go by quickly after that, and before Tomura knew it he heard the familiar jingling of keys as Hisashi began his daily battle with their faulty door knob.

    He struggled with it for a little while, frustration worming it’s way onto his face when Tomura piped up, “Do you need help?”

    Of course, it was in that moment that the door chose to finally give in. “No,” Hisashi responded, deadpan.

    They were greeted by the familiar sight of the empty apartment, as both parents had left for work by then. Hisashi made a bee-line for the living room couch, searching the room for the ever elusive TV remote. In contrast, Tomura went into their room, excited to sift through his ridiculous collection of comic books so he could trade with Zach tomorrow and show off his evidence that Marvel quite clearly made the superior comics (and movies, but that was neither here nor there). 

    Tomura found himself sitting on the messy carpeted floor, with sorted piles of comic books scattered all around him. In his hands was an old Amazing Spider-Man comic, worn with folded corners and yellowing pages. It smelled of the dusty, now bankrupt comic book store he had bought it from for what was, in his eyes, an absolute steal. In his favorite panel, Captain America is looking down at Peter Parker, broad and imposing during their darkest hour. He gives the young hero a pep talk, saying words that Tomura would find ringing in his ears years later.

    Doesn't matter what the press says. Doesn't matter what the politicians or the mobs say. Doesn't matter if the whole country decides that something wrong is something right. This nation was founded on one principle above all else: the requirement that we stand up for what we believe, no matter the odds or the consequences. When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world — "No, you move.”

A/N:  This first chapter was fairly fluffy, but the next one will be much darker. These first few chapters will be slice of life so that I can set the stage for Plot To Happen. If I'm inaccurate in how I write EDS please tell me, and I'll do my best to fix it. Feel free to leave a comment!

Ao3

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