#and then he gets chased w a broom laughing the entire time

[unexpectedbrickattack]

Who let him be so fresh ?????

[kookie-doughs]

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything is now ruined.

Chapter 22: Then It Ended

As soon as we came, Annabeth ang Grover tackled me. We were the first heroes to return alive to Half-Blood Hill since Luke, so of course everybody treated us as if we'd won some reality-TV contest. According to camp tradition, we wore laurel wreaths to a big feast prepared in our honor, then led a procession down to the bonfire, where we got to burn the burial shrouds our cabins had made for us in our absence.

Annabeth's shroud was so beautiful—gray silk with embroidered owls— Percy told her it seemed a shame not to bury her in it. She punched him and told him to shut up. Percy being the son of Poseidon, he didn't have any cabin mates, so the Ares cabin had volunteered to make his shroud. They'd taken an old bedsheet and painted smiley faces with X'ed-out eyes around the border, and the word LOSER painted really big in the middle.

As I was still unclaimed, Hermes cabin had made me one. (Just... IDK go crazy with your shroud IG) It was fun to burn. As Apollo's cabin led the sing-along and passed out s'mores, Percy and I was surrounded by my Hermes cabinmates, Annabeth's friends from Athena, and Grover's satyr buddies, who were admiring the brand-new searcher's license he'd received from the Council of Cloven Elders. The council had called Grover's performance on the quest "Brave to the point of indigestion. Horns-and-whiskers above anything we have seen in the past." The only ones not in a party mood were Clarisse and her cabinmates, whose poisonous looks told me they'd never forgive us for disgracing their dad. That was okay with me. Even Dionysus's welcome-home speech wasn't enough to dampen my spirits. "Yes, yes, so the little brats didn't get themselves killed and now they'll have an even bigger head. Well, huzzah for that. In other announcements, there will be no canoe races this Saturday...." Going back to the cabin I finally had time to talk to Luke. Who just expressed his relief of me being fine, and how he was scared when Annabeth told everyone about me. No wonder everyone was so shocked seeing me come back with Percy. On the Fourth of July, the whole camp gathered at the beach for a fireworks display by cabin nine. Being Hephaestus's kids, they weren't going to settle for a few lame red-white-and-blue explosions. They'd anchored a barge offshore and loaded it with rockets the size of Patriot missiles. According to Annabeth, who'd seen the show before, the blasts would be sequenced so tightly they'd look like frames of animation across the sky. The finale was supposed to be a couple of hundred-foot-tall Spartan warriors who would crackle to life above the ocean, fight a battle, then explode into a million colors. As Annabeth, Percy and I were spreading a picnic blanket, Grover showed up to tell us good-bye. He was dressed in his usual jeans and T-shirt and sneakers, but in the last few weeks he'd started to look older, almost high-school age. His goatee had gotten thicker. He'd put on weight. His horns had grown at least an inch, so he now had to wear his rasta cap all the time to pass as human. "I'm off," he said. "I just came to say ... well, you know." I tried to feel happy for him. After all, it wasn't every day a satyr got permission to go look for the great god Pan. But it was hard saying good-bye. I'd only known Grover a year, yet he was my oldest friend. Annabeth and I gave him a hug. She told him to keep his fake feet on. I asked him where he was going to search first. "Kind of a secret," he said, looking embarrassed. "I wish you could come with me, guys, but humans and Pan ..." "We understand," Annabeth said. "You got enough tin cans for the trip?" "Yeah." "And you remembered your reed pipes?" "Jeez, Annabeth," he grumbled. "You're like an old mama goat." But he didn't really sound annoyed. He gripped his walking stick and slung a backpack over his shoulder. He looked like any hitchhiker you might see on an American highway. "Well," he said, "wish me luck." He gave Annabeth and I another hug. He clapped Percy on the shoulder, then headed back through the dunes. Fireworks exploded to life overhead: Hercules killing the Nemean lion, Artemis chasing the boar, George Washington (who, by the way, was a son of Athena) crossing the Delaware. "Hey, Grover," Percy called. He turned at the edge of the woods. "Wherever you're going—I hope they make good enchiladas." Grover grinned, and then he was gone, the trees closing around him. "We'll see him again," Annabeth said. July passed. I spent my daysplanning out strategies with Luke for capture-the-flag and making alliances with the other cabins to keep the banner out of Ares's hands. I got to the top of the climbing wall for the first time without getting scorched by lava. From time to time, Percy and I would walk past the Big House, he'd glance up at the attic windows, and think about the Oracle.

I tried to convince him that its prophecy had come to completion. "You shall go west, and face the god who has turned." "Been there, done that—even though the traitor god had turned out to be Ares rather than Hades." "You shall find what was stolen, and see it safe returned." "Check. One master bolt delivered. One helm of darkness back on Hades." "You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend." Percy recited. "Ares had pretended to be our friend, then betrayed us. That must be what the Oracle meant.... Or maybe Nereid?"

"And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end." He sighed. "I had failed to save my mom and lost you..."

"So why are you still uneasy?" The last night of the summer session came all too quickly. The campers had one last meal together. We burned part of our dinner for the gods. At the bonfire, the senior counselors awarded the end-of-summer beads. Percy and I got our own leather necklace, and when I saw the bead for my first summer. The design was pitch black, with a sea-green trident shimmering in the center.

"This is so beautiful..." I smiled to Percy. "The choice was unanimous," Luke announced. "This bead commemorates the first Son of the Sea God at this camp, and the quest he undertook into the darkest part of the Underworld to stop a war!" The entire camp got to their feet and cheered. Even Ares's cabin felt obliged to stand. Athena's cabin steered Annabeth to the front so she could share in the applause. I'm not sure I'd ever felt as happy or sad as I did at that moment. I'd finally found a family, people who cared about me and thought I'd done something right. And in the morning, most of them would be leaving for the year. * * * The next morning, Luke called me. He gave me a paper, telling me to fill it out, and asked me to meet him as soon as I could. I knew Dionysus must've filled it out, because he stubbornly insisted on getting my name wrong: Dear (WRONG NAME) , If you intend to stay at Camp Half-Blood year-round, you must inform the Big House by noon today. If you do not announce your intentions, we will assume you have vacated your cabin or died a horrible death. Cleaning harpies will begin work at sundown. They will be authorized to eat any unregistered campers. All personal articles left behind will be incinerated in the lava pit. Have a nice day! Mr. D (Dionysus) Camp Director, Olympian Council #12 That's another thing about ADHD. Deadlines just aren't real to me until I'm staring one in the face. Summer was over, and I still don't know what to do. I had no where to go to. The only option I had was Percy's or maybe Hades was not joking about inviting me back to the Underworld. Sighing I decided to just meet Luke before filling it for second opinions. The campgrounds were mostly deserted, shimmering in the August heat. All the campers were in their cabins packing up, or running around with brooms and mops, getting ready for final inspection. Argus was helping some of the Aphrodite kids haul their Gucci suitcases and makeup kits over the hill, where the camp's shuttle bus would be waiting to take them to the airport. I was walking around looking for Luke. I jumped when I felt someone tap me from behind. I instinctively unsheathed my knife and turned only to see Luke with his hands raised.

"Whoa! Calm down just me." He laughed.

"Kinda weird seeing someone laugh at a knife pointed at them." I smirked sheathing my knife.

"I only laugh since its you." He smiled and ruffled my hair. "Are you done with everything?"

"Not really. I don't know whether to leave or not yet. That's why I came. Help me?" I asked him.

He turned to me and to the forest. "How about you hear me out about something... important and private... then decide?" He gestured towards the forest.

"Not planning on killing me are you?" I squinted at him.

He gasped. "Not you. Never. I would never hurt you."

I let him lead me to a shrouded area of the forest.

"How serious is this thing that you can't let anyone see? I am blindly trusting you here Luke." I laughed nervously. But when he didn't reply I felt something was off. "Luke, okay this isn't cool. How deep into the forest do we have to go?"

"Y/N remember when you said... You want to be the person I trust...? How you promised to help me?"

"Luke?" He took my hand and pulled me sharply. I winced at how hard he pulled me. "That hurts! Let me go!"

He snapped back and let go of my wrist. "I-I'm sorry... Y/N..."

As much as I knew I had to leave, I couldn't I was worried about him. I reluctantly placed a hand on his shoulder. "What's happening?"

"I did it..." I said and sat on the ground. "I swear I didn't mean to get you hurt. But, I confess to everything. I  stole bolt and helm, I summoned the hound, I gave Percy the cursed shoes... And just now, I tried to kill Percy Jackson." He looked at me with empty eyes.

I shot up and looked at him in emotions I couldn't put in words. "W-Wh---" I wanted to leave and check on Percy. But once again, seeing him right now... I need to stay with him. "Why are you telling me this...?"

"Join me... please?" his voice was weak. He sounded vulnerable. "Let's serve my Lord together..."

"L-Luke... no. I-I can't do that!" I took his shoulder, "Y-You should stay with me instead. How about that, huh? L-Let's explain to Chiron and the others... come on please. I could help you!"

Nothing was working.

"Come with me..." He muttered.

"Luke, I won't join you. You have to change your mind. You can't do this."

"I can't change my mind."

"I can help you with that? How about you go with me huh? I could spend all my time doing this and that. Please, just change your mind."

He didn't reply for a while until he whispered, "Promise me."

"Promise you what?"

"You'll stay with me."

"What? Luke I wo--"

"You won't join... Just...don't stay here for the year... and stay with me."

"I-If I stay with you... what would that mean?"

"Yo-You... might change my mind."

"I'll go." I replied with no hesitation. "I'll leave camp for the year. And I'll find my parent to prove to you that Gods and Goddess aren't all bad. We'll find my parent together."

"I do my lord's bidding--"

"You can still do it. If you want to. But whatever happens... stays only between us. I'll stay with you until I change your mind. And I'll bring you back to camp."

"I would never do anything to ruin your trust in me." He knelt down. It was kinda awkward but hey... "I need you."

Worry not hero. We shall stay.

"Please..."

We'll meet again. Wait for us, we shall join you soon. Now leave.

I had no idea what happened since when I came to Luke was gone and there was no sign of him anywhere. How were we going to st---

We will meet him once we leave. Now go as our hero needs us.

I suddenly remembered Percy's state that Luke had told me about. So I ran. I ran to the Big House

***

Percy finally opened his eyes. He was propped up in bed in the sickroom of the Big House, his right hand bandaged like a club. Argus stood guard in the corner. Annabeth and I sat next to Percy, I was holding his nectar glass and she was dabbing a washcloth on his forehead.

"Here we are again," Percy said. "You idiot," Annabeth said, "You were green and turning gray when we found you. If it weren't for Chiron's healing..." "Now, now," Chiron's voice said. "Percy's constitution deserves some of the credit." He was sitting near the foot of the bed in human form. His lower half was magically compacted into the wheelchair, his upper half dressed in a coat and tie. He smiled, but his face looked weary and pale, the way it did when he'd been up all night grading Latin papers. "How are you feeling?" he asked. "Like my insides have been frozen, then microwaved." "Apt, considering that was pit scorpion venom. Now you must tell me, if you can, exactly what happened." Between sips of nectar, he told them the story.

I bit my lip trying to keep what happened between Luke and I private. It was a risky move that would not be approved by anyone after all. The room was quiet for a long time. "I can't believe that Luke..." Annabeth's voice faltered. Her expression turned angry and sad. "Yes. Yes, I can believe it. May the gods curse him.... He was never the same after his quest."

Percy was looking at me as if checking what was my reaction to his story. "This must be reported to Olympus," Chiron murmured. "I will go at once." "Luke is out there right now," Percy said. "I have to go after him." Chiron shook his head. "No, Percy. The gods—" "Won't even talk about Kronos," Percy snapped. "Zeus declared the matter closed!" "Percy, I know this is hard. But you must not rush out for vengeance. You aren't ready." "Chiron... your prophecy from the Oracle... it was about Kronos, wasn't it? Was I in it? Y/N? And Annabeth?" Chiron glanced nervously at the ceiling. "Percy, it isn't my place—" "You've been ordered not to talk to me about it, haven't you?" His eyes were sympathetic, but sad. "You will be a great hero, child. I will do my best to prepare you. But if I'm right about the path ahead of you..." Thunder boomed overhead, rattling the windows. "All right!" Chiron shouted. "Fine!" He sighed in frustration. "The gods have their reasons, Percy. Knowing too much of your future is never a good thing." "We can't just sit back and do nothing," He said. "We will not sit back," Chiron promised. "But you must be careful. Kronos wants you to come unraveled. He wants your life disrupted, your thoughts clouded with fear and anger. Do not give him what he wants. Train patiently. Your time will come." "Assuming I live that long." Chiron put his hand on Percy's ankle. "You'll have to trust me, Percy. You will live. But first you must decide your path for the coming year. I cannot tell you the right choice...." I got the feeling that he had a very definite opinion, and it was taking all his willpower not to advise me. "But you must decide whether to stay at Camp Half-Blood year-round, or return to the mortal world for seventh grade and be a summer camper. Think on that. When I get back from Olympus, you must tell me your decision." "I'll be back as soon as I can," Chiron promised. "Argus will watch over you." He glanced at Annabeth. "Oh, and, my dear... whenever you're ready, they're here." "Who's here?" Percy asked. Nobody answered. Chiron rolled himself out of the room. I heard the wheels of his chair clunk carefully down the front steps, two at a time. Annabeth studied the floor. "What's wrong?" Percy asked her. "Nothing. I ... just took your advice about something. You ... um ... need anything?" "Yeah. Help me up. I want to go outside." "Percy, that isn't a good idea." Percy slid his legs out of bed. Annabeth and I caught him before he could crumple to the floor.

I said, "I told you ..." "I'm fine," He insisted.

He managed a step forward. Then another, still leaning heavily on me. Argus followed us outside, but he kept his distance. By the time we reached the porch, his face was beaded with sweat. But we had managed to make it all the way to the railing. It was dusk. The camp looked completely deserted. The cabins were dark and the volleyball pit silent. No canoes cut the surface of the lake. Beyond the woods and the strawberry fields, the Long Island Sound glittered in the last light of the sun. "What are you going to do?" Annabeth asked us. "I don't know." Percy replied. "I got the feeling Chiron wanted me to stay year-round, to put in more individual training time, but I'm not sure that's what I want. I also don't want to leave you both with Clarisse only." Annabeth pursed her lips, then said quietly, "I'm going home for the year, Percy." He stared at her. "You mean, to your dad's?" She pointed toward the crest of Half-Blood Hill. Next to Thalia's pine tree, at the very edge of the camp's magical boundaries, a family stood silhouetted—two little children, a woman, and a tall man with blond hair. They seemed to be waiting. The man was holding a backpack that looked like the one Annabeth had gotten from Waterland in Denver. "I wrote him a letter when we got back," Annabeth said. "Just like you suggested. I told him... I was sorry. I'd come home for the school year if he still wanted me. He wrote back immediately. We decided... we'd give it another try." "That took guts." She pursed her lips. "You won't try anything stupid during the school year, will you? At least ... not without sending me an Iris-message? Both of you?" Percy managed a smile. "I won't go looking for trouble. I usually don't have to."

"You already know my plans."

"When I get back next summer," she said, "we'll hunt down Luke. We'll ask for a quest, but if we don't get approval, we'll sneak off and do it anyway. Agreed?" "Sounds like a plan worthy of Athena."

She held out her hand. Percy shook it. She gave me a hug. "Take care, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth told Percy. "Keep your eyes open."

"You too, Wise Girl."

Then turned to me, "Good luck on your own quest Droopy."

"Of course Peabody." We watched her walk up the hill and join her family. She gave her father an awkward hug and looked back at the valley one last time. She touched Thalia's pine tree, then allowed herself to be lead over the crest and into the mortal world. "I made my decision." Percy said. "What's yours?"

"I'll be leaving camp... I'm going to look for my parent..." He looked at me in shock. "I'll be back next summer," I promised him. "I'll survive until then."

"Alone?"

I smiled at him.

"Don't you want to stay with us? Mom said---"

"I want to find my parent. I need to. I'll be fine Percy."

I helped Percy to his cabin so he could pack and went to mine. To my surprise I see a middle-aged man with an athletic figure slim and fit with salt-and-pepper hair, and a very familiar sly grin. He had bags at his foot.

"Delivery for Y/N L/N."

"Uhm..."

"Hermes." He said.

I froze and looked at him with wide eyes.

"Personally packed. As a thank you for what you're about to do." He smiled softly and handed me the bags.

"H-Huh...?"

"For helping Luke."

"I..."

Don't forget her mail!

Ooh! And tell her to bring us snacks next time we meet since it'll be often now!

No it wouldn't be often! She'll be with Luke!

"Both of you keep quiet." Pulling out a mail he handed it to me. "Luke... prayed to me telling me about your plan. He asked me to help you. I don't know what or why he did it. But I know he'll change thanks to you. So do guide him."

"Sorry you lost me at the talking air..." I blinked.

Hermes laughed and showed a caduceus. "It's just George and Martha."

"Hi?"

Hello!

Hi

"I just wanted to let you know. No god or goddess could see you. No matter how hard they tried. So your secrets.. are really secrets. Good luck on your travel."

Next time we meet you should have snacks.

Then he vanished.

Staring at the letter on my hand, I was stunned seeing it was from... my mom and dad.

Sweetie,

You've made quite a friend here.

-Mom and Dad.

I immediately knew where to look. I hurriedly took my bags not bothering to check the contents. I ran to Percy's cabin and helped him out so we could leave.

Percy got a cab and looked at me worriedly.

"I'll write you. Stay safe Arthur Curry." I ruffled his hair and watched him go.

I didn't know where to go so I just went to the first secluded area I saw.

"You have more stuffs than when you arrived." I heard someone behind me.

"You prayed to your dad. I hope he knows how to pack." I sighed turning to him. Turning around I barely made out Luke from the few days I last saw him. "You okay?"

"Do you know where to look first?"

Call upon our hound.

I whistled, I don't know why. But when I did, D/N came out of the blue. Luke looked at me and my dear dog, who was probably bigger than the hound he'd summon back then. "How do feel about L.A?" I said riding on D/N and making space behind me for Luke.

~~~END OF BOOK 1~~~

Previous | Book 1 Masterlist | Series Masterlist

END OF BOOK ONE!!! THANK YOU FOR READING YLATHB I HOPE YOU ENJOY!! I'LL PUBLISH BOOK 2 WHEN I'M DONE OR EVEN AT LEAST HAVE WRITTEN 5 CHAPTERS OF THE BOOK 2 ;))

I HOPE TO SEE YOU NEXT TIME!!!

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000 @katara720 @ynfics

[levinneheart]

Trouble Ahead

Prologue

A collab w/ @old-me-is-gone

➳ Description: This is a story between enemies; a middle school friend turned salty, a high school partner turned full debate sessions, and an unfortunate girl stuck in the middle… it seems there is going to be trouble ahead.

➳ Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Feisty!F!Photographer!Reader x Akaashi Keiji

➳ Prompt: Frenemies, Enemies to Lovers, Love Triangle, Shy Confessions

➳ Genre: FLUFF, ANGST

➳ Word Count: 4,010

➳ Written by: @old-me-is-gone and co-edited by (banner also by): @levinneheart

➳ Disclaimer: Pictures used are not ours and are all credited to their owners. Haikyuu characters are owned by Haruichi Furudate.

Routes: Wit’s End || Partner in Crime

Middle school is meant to be a time where kids can develop and find themselves. In [Y/N]’s case, middle school was the time she garnered a skill and adept talent for photography while also meeting her first friend after moving from Tokyo.

Standing by the counter where she was waiting for her recent photos to be developed while she picked at her nails. The darkroom had become a place of solace for her. Moving from Tokyo to the middle of nowhere, a place also known as Miyagi, hadn’t been easy and starting middle school without any friends was even harder. Since no one made an effort to at least try and befriend her within the first month, [Y/N] had decided that she didn’t need anyone else. So being in the darkroom seemed to be the only valid option for her.

When her mom asked her about her day, she would ramble on and on about the fake experiences she had at school. In her fake world, she was popular and had a lot of friends. In reality, she was just the weird loner girl who took photos of trashcans around the cafeteria. [Y/N] had the darkroom all to herself as she was the only member of the photography club. Although, sometimes other clubs would use her clubroom to store excess club materials and such.

Leaving her to have a single counter for her photos. To make it an actual working darkroom, she used a red tissue paper that she had attached to the hanging ceiling light with a rubber band and blacked out the windows with random cardboard from the kitchens. The other two walls that she didn’t use were reserved for the volleyball club to shove extra netting and brooms into.

She really should have printed out a single paper that wrote: ‘Please Knock, Photos in Developing Stage’, that’s at least what she learned from the hindsight when the door opened again for the nth time and she was greeted with a single sliver of light. [Y/N]’s eye went wide as she stopped picking at her nails. “Wait! Don’t-”

The door slide completely open and [Y/N] squinted at all the sudden light. When she realized what had happened, she rushed to the tins of developing liquid and tried to cover them with her hands so her photos wouldn’t be exposed to light.

“Damn it.” She groaned. She tugged at her hair as her photos went streaky and the coloring blended in together from the light. [Y/N] felt a pang of sadness hit her heart as she whipped around to chastise the person who opened the door.

Standing in the doorway was an oddly tall blond boy. His hair seemed to glow from all the light streaming in. After rubbing her eyes slightly, [Y/N] could make out the glasses on his face and recognized him from the volleyball club. Tsukishima Kei.

Always pleasant visitor. She thought sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“What the hell are you doing just hanging out in a darkroom?” Tsukishima walked in and inspected the shelves, looking for some equipment.

“Hey! Wait a minute! You should have knocked! Because of you, all my photos are ruined!” She exclaimed, huffing and stomping her foot as she brought Tsukishima’s attention to her by acting tough.

Tsukishima tilted his head before rolling his eyes and grabbing an air pump. Tossing it into the air before catching it again. “Because of me, your photos are ruined?” He scoffed at her, his tone was condescending and sarcastic.

[Y/N] stretched her hands out and gave a quick ‘duh’ in response. Tsukishima gave her a wicked smirk that begged to be punched off of his face. [Y/N] didn’t care if she was a lot shorter than him, she just wanted him to apologize for ruining her photos.

When Tsukishima started to walk towards the exit, [Y/N] ran to block the entrance while holding her hand out on either side of the frame and looking up at him as she sneered, “You need to apologize.” Tsukishima fake lunged at her, causing [Y/N] to flinch and bring her arms to her body while he grabbed hold of her shoulder and moved her away from the door with ease.

“I don’t apologize to entitled brats like you.”

“Entitled brat my ass,” She mumbled before chasing after him. “Get back here you tall excuse for a human!” When [Y/N] realized she wasn’t going to be able to stop him with force so she swallowed her pride and jumped on his back, wrapping her legs around his waist and holding onto his neck with her arms.

“What the fu-” Tsukishima turned around, before trying to pry her off.

“Not until you apologize!” [Y/N] argued.

“I’m sorry. Now, get off of me!”

“It doesn’t sound sincere enough.”

Tsukishima thought back to all the times he had jumped on Akiteru’s back, and how his brother had managed to get him to hop off all on his own. So, remembering what Akiteru did, Tsukishima dropped the air pump and started pretending he was being chocked.

[Y/N] immediately hopped off and ran in front of Tsukishima and held onto his shoulders. “Holy hell. Are you alright?”

Tsukishima held back a smirk as he faked being upset. “No. You really hurt me.”

“What can I do to make it up to you. Hell, I'm really sorry. Like really sorry.” [Y/N] rubbed her elbow and shuffled her feet. [Y/N] rubbed her elbow and shuffled her feet in guilt.

“I’ll think of something.” Tsukishima would never admit it but in the short period of time that he had known the strange (h/c) haired girl, he wanted to be around her more. Nobody had ever had the courage, or sheer idiocy to even try and stand up to him before.

[Y/N] threw her hands up into the air and glared at Tsukishima. “Great, you asshole! Now, I feel indebted to you for some emotional reason.” She picked up the air pump and started walking down the steps towards the gym when Tsukishima called out to her.

“What are you doing?” He walked down to her with a few short strides in his step.

“Helping you. I can work off this icky guilt by helping you. Okay? Let's go.”

Months went by after that. Tsukishima and [Y/N] most definitely didn’t become friends. They just sat together at lunch and hung out at the park. [Y/N] went to all of Tsukishima’s volleyball games whilst Tsukishima went to all of [Y/N]’s art shows. So no, they weren’t friends. They were, merely, people who shared a common experience and decided to continue building upon that shared experience.

Then, news of [Y/N] moving back to Tokyo happened during their third year in middle school. Someone heard [Y/N] talking to her dad on the phone about it, and eventually it spread like wildfire. Some people were pretty upset, after having gotten to know [Y/N]. Other people just honestly didn’t care, but instead wanted in on the drama.

The drama was that apparently since Tsukishima still didn’t know that [Y/N] was moving. And the entire school wanted to see him explode when he finally found out. Which meant that hordes of people hovered around Yamaguchi, Tsukishima, and [Y/N] as they went about their days.

“Do people just actively look for ways to piss me off.” Tsukishima grumbled as he took another spoonful of his chicken noodle soup. Tsukishima felt the eyes of the people hiding to the side of the wall right behind him.

“Tsukki, I honestly doubt it's that!” Yamaguchi comforted. [Y/N] was busy snapping photos of the trees far off while Tsukishima let his eyes and mind wander as he stared at her trying to find the right angle to take a picture. His Adam's apple bobbed when she stood up and stretched her back out. She knelt back down to take a photo but lost balance and fell on her butt, she laughed lightly at herself before getting back up. Tsukishima could feel his heart pound in his chest and his face heat up.

“Are you alright? You're looking a little red there Tsukki?’ Yamaguchi took a bite of the cookie his mom packed for him, talking with his mouth full.

“I'm fine. But, hey, why have so many people been like, extra nice to L/n? A whole bunch of guys from the volleyball club pitched in and bought her a polaroid camera.” Tsukishima wished that the group of underclassmen would have asked him to help pitch in to buy the yellow camera that she adores so much. She never left it alone, keeping it tucked away in its case amongst her school bag.

“Oh? [Y/N]’s moving to Tokyo. Remember?”

Tsukishima dropped his soup, the contents spilling all over the courtyard as he tightens his fists. “What?” He growls out while Yamaguchi slaps his hand over his mouth.

Mumbling his apologizes profusely, “[Y/N] said not to say anything, Tsukki please don’t hate [Y/N], she was just doing what she thought was best- “Tsukki, where are you going?” Tsukishima slams his hands against the table and pushes off, storming to where [Y/N] was standing.

“[Y/N]!” Tsukishima never yelled at her. So, she whips her head around to see a red-faced Tsukishima. [Y/N] thought she saw smoke coming out of his ears. “Were you going to tell me you were moving, or am I just an afterthought?” [Y/N] almost drops her camera from shock. She holds it tight to her chest, cradling it as she cowers away from the raging boy in front of her.

“I was gonna tell you.”

“No, you weren’t.” He spat. He gripped her forearm to pull her closer but when he did, [Y/N] dropped her yellow polaroid camera and it shattered, glass and parts of the camera flew around the concrete courtyard while her eyes glazed over with tears.

“You jerk! Don’t try talking to me, until you're ready to apologize for being such an asshole!” Tears fell from her eyes and spilling over her face before swinging her satchel over her shoulder as she marched to the school building. Tsukishima’s hands ran to his hair, pulling it tightly as he let out a short scream that sounded like a grunt. Yamaguchi walked into the school building and he knew, there wasn’t going to be a way to comfort Tsukishima’s mood when he got like this.

[Y/N] packed up and got ready to move. Putting all of her belongings into suitcases and duffle bags. When she was putting her pictures into her collection of shoeboxes, she glanced at the ones of her and Tsukishima. Her favorite picture was one she had originally given to Tsukishima for his birthday, but she liked it so much she had her mom scan it and print out another copy that [Y/N] laminated.

In the photo, [Y/N] had rubbed birthday cake all over Tsukishima’s face. Giving him a frosting mustache and his hair mixed in with chocolate cake. She pulled him in close, and Tsukishima rested his arm over his shoulders, he gave a side smile while rolling his eyes. Then she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, getting a photo of her giggling as Tsukishima turned to face her with a blushing face and cake all over him, his eyebrows shot up into his forehead.

Then [Y/N] remembered back at how he had grabbed her arm and made her drop her Polaroid camera. In a fury, she ripped up the photo, sliding down her bed and staring at the now empty wall that was once full of pictures of friends and family.

The next day, while saying goodbye to Yamaguchi, when her mom asked where Tsukishima was, [Y/N] simply said, “We aren’t talking at the moment.”

“Are you sure? I can always call his mom, and we can wait for him to come over so he can say goodbye?” Her mom waited outside the car, but [Y/N] got into the backseat and buckled her seatbelt, refusing to say more on the matter while Yamaguchi waved goodbye to her car that had begun driving off. He hoped that Tsukishima had gotten his text message. And he did, as of right now, he was begging his mom to drive him to [Y/N]’s house.

Tsukishima ran after her parents’ car, hopping out of his mom’s car and tried chasing after [Y/N]. Before realizing, she had already driven too far that his yells for her to come back fell to deaf ears. Tsukishima fell to the ground and stayed silent as he rubbed his thumb of the package of a yellow Polaroid camera that had a simple ‘I’m sorry’ written on a green sticky note.

When his chest began to heave, and his heart felt weighed down while watching her car got out of view. Because, for the first time, he longed for someone who was now gone. Someone who was really gone. And every day over the entire summer, he beat himself up more and more for not apologizing. Because not apologizing had meant that he lost the person he had grown closest to.

[Y/N] was used to going to new schools and moving around a lot in primary school, she had to adjust to all of the changes. But high school was a big jump. A bigger jump than any other jump she had ever taken. Luckily, Fukurodani had accepted her based on both her grades and her talent in photography, saying that such a talent must be nurtured with the right tutelage and proper education. Which [Y/N] thought was just a bunch of pretentious bullshit in order to try and use her grades on their average grade scale.

Needless to say, [Y/N] started her first day. Her dad had bought her a brand-new blue polaroid to make up for what had begun to be known around the L/n household as the ‘Tsukishima Incident’. Armed with a positive attitude and her blue camera, [Y/N] took the first step out of her house and into her high school career.

Trains move fast. And the train system was just so complex and so utterly beautiful. People rush around without a second thought. [Y/N] just had to capture that. Taking photos as she stepped onto the Fukurodani train though, probably wasn’t a good idea though. Because she bumped into someone and dropped her camera. When she heard the plastic crack she cringed and she turned around to face who she had run into.

A boy. A cute boy at that. One with dark blue eyes, with green floating around them. His black hair seemed to be slightly curly, or at the very least slightly wavy. [Y/N] opens her mouth slightly to try and say something but, no words come out as the boy stares to the side of her, not meeting her eyes. [Y/N]’s first thoughts were: wow okay, he’s hot and he’s intimidating.

Akaashi sighed before muttering, “Please pay attention, you could hurt someone.” He didn’t want to stare at her, so he opted for not meeting her eyes. Taking a mental note of her broken camera, and the way she didn’t wear the school skirt but chose to wear the pants instead. Not that he would admit that he was starting at her hips, or her legs for that matter.

“Sorry!”

“It's fine. Just don’t go bumping into people again okay?” Akaashi got off the train, the girl hopping off as well.

“Yeah of course.” [Y/N] paused, wondering if this could be the amplest time to make a friend at her new school, but when she looked back to him, he was gone.

Finally arriving to class, [Y/N] slipped into her new seat, and she bounced her leg up and down. Being in a mixed class with first and second years was going to be pretty exciting. She thought about all the people she could learn from and all the interesting things she would learn throughout the year. When the pretty boy walked in. [Y/N] stopped bouncing her leg in favor of just staying frozen.

Embarrassment flooded her senses. Akaashi sits down and makes conversation with the fellow second year next to him. [Y/N] slides down her seat and tries to cover her face with her long sleeve beige sweater. When the teacher walks in and brings the class to attention, [Y/N] clears her throat lightly and sits back up. Hoping that the boy doesn’t notice her sitting in the back row.

“For the rest of the year, I’m going to assign you partners.” Students immediately turn to look at each other and whisper about being partners. “Partners that I will personally assign.” Disgruntled cries erupt for a second before the teacher shoots a quick glare onto their pupils.

The teacher lists of names, and students shuffle around to sit next to each other. With every passing pair, [Y/N] feels her heart race.

“Akaashi Keiji and L/n [Y/N].” [Y/N] looks around for a moment, wondering about this ‘Akaashi’ guy before her throat goes dry. Sitting down next to her is the same guy she bumped into on the train. Akaashi recognizes [Y/N] from the train.

For the first week the two don’t talk. Merely passing homework between themselves to correct or when [Y/N] forgot a pencil that one time so Akaashi lent one of his to her. They were resigned to this emotional withdrawal from each other. Until they were assigned a project.

“I think it should be on the history of the modern developing process for film and such.” [Y/N] throws out. Tapping her pen against her notebook, accidentally causing ink spots to freckle across the page. Akaashi takes the pen away from her, in order to stop the incessant tapping sound that was beginning to distract him from coming up with an idea for the project.

“Well, the project should be something simple and straightforward. So, how about the history of volleyball? It can be traced back clearly through the Olympics and all of the data is already there.” Akaashi titles her page with VOLLEYBALL HISTORY. [Y/N] rolls her eyes before crossing it out and writing Camera Film Development History. Akaashi pulls out another piece of paper and titles it with the volleyball one. To which [Y/N] wrinkles her nose, before crossing it out and putting her idea down on the paper.

“Stop it.” Akaashi grumbles.

“Never.” [Y/N] writes her idea down and rushes up to the teacher. Akaashi shoots up and grabs her by the hand, pulling her into his chest.

Akaashi promised he would never use the trick Bokuto taught him, but considering the dire situation he was in, he decided that he had no choice. Leaning his head close to hers, [Y/N]’s eyes widened as she moved her head. “Let’s use my idea, Princess.”

[Y/N] fake a gag before slipping out of his grasp. “Ew, no. Never do that again.” When she tries to go to the teacher again, Akaashi groans before pulling her away again. “Let go of me!” She states, trying not to raise her voice.

“Never.” Akaashi mimics her tone from earlier. And [Y/N] turns her face into an image of disgust.

“I said to let go of me!” [Y/N] kicks Akaashi’s shin, making him yelp out in pain. The teacher, having been aware of their argument from the beginning, just sighs and sends them off to the principal’s office.

Akaashi isn’t angry, he’s just upset. But because of a wild and reckless first year, he is the one being punished. Even though [Y/N] is also going to the office, he feels like he’s the one being criticized. He wants to protest and say that she was the one who kicked him, and she was the one who refused to do a compromise with him.

[Y/N] bites down on her tongue as she sits outside the Principal’s office. It's only the second Monday of the year and she is already in trouble, so much for making a good impression on others.

Regardless, through the months that pass, Akaashi and [Y/N] still argue. They don’t physically fight; they just bicker incessantly. The seats in front of them and behind them were vacated once the students had realized their fighting wasn’t going to stop.

[Y/N] tried her best to fit in. But when she was informed that there wasn’t going to be a Photography club, she felt deflated. But when a pair of girls stood around the entrance of the school trying to hand out fliers, [Y/N] too the opportunity to say hi.

The girls, that [Y/N] was now informed of as Yukie and Kaori, asked her if she would be willing to be a manager for the volleyball team which [Y/N] happened to be familiar with, so she agreed. The two girls invited [Y/N] to start training as a manager during a training camp, to which [Y/N] happily agreed to as well.

The training camp had started off well enough. All the third years had started off introducing themselves and had politely begun to ask about [Y/N] and her likes as well as her dislikes. Akaashi spotted her before she spotted him. He groaned and pulled Bokuto aside. “You have got to be messing with me, right?” Akaashi ran a hand through his hair before toying with his hands.

“What do you mean Akaashi?” Bokuto folded his arms while he tilted his head to the side.

“She’s insufferable.” Akaashi stated, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I dunno, [L/n]-kun seems really nice.” Bokuto tapped his chin while shrugging.

“I had to go to the principal's office because of her, remember.” Akaashi leaves out the finer details of the reason why he went to the office though, figuring that Bokuto didn’t need to know all of the information.

Bokuto walks back towards [Y/N] before calling out Akaashi, “She might be different outside of school, you never know ‘Kaashi.”

Akaashi leans his back against the brick wall. Exhaling deeply and closing his eyes. He doesn’t even notice when [Y/N] walks up to him and inspects his jersey. When she taps his shoulder, Akaashi flinched a bit before sighing deeply to calm his nerves. He tries to walk away and [Y/N] immediately grabbed hold of his hand.

“I'm sorry it feels like I'm invading on your life. But the third years are all really nice to me.” [Y/N] holds her hands behind her back as she digs the tip of her shoe into the ground. “And I was wondering if we could actually have a civil conversation about our project. I'm willing to compromise now, if you are.” She looks at him with puppy dog eyes.

How can Akaashi have it in his heart to deny her? When her tone got ever so soft when she talked about the third years being kind to her? Akaashi doesn’t like the way his heart bubbles up at her actions.

“[Y/N]?”

Tsukishima drops his duffel bag, his arms going limp at the sight of her with a second year from Fukurodani and wearing its uniform. And he didn’t like the sight of her smiling since the last memories of her he had were of her with wet eyes and rage. Tsukishima rushes to pick up his bag. Yamaguchi, who had seen the whole scene unfurl, ran after Tsukishima.

Once Tsukishima had stopped, now hiding in the bus, Yamaguchi had finally caught up with his friend. Yamaguchi grew tired of the way he could dance around the topic of [Y/N]. She was their friend, the three of them grew up together. “Tsukishima. What are your feelings for [Y/N]? Tell me the truth.” Yamaguchi crossed his arms and Tsukishima looked up at him with a blank stare, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

[Y/N] only saw Tsukishima for a moment before he rushed away. She looked back to Akaashi, whose face was slightly red but he still had a blank look plastered on. She had a choice to make. Go after her broken friendship with a childhood friend, or stay with the new and intriguing project partner.

Either way, she knew that there would be trouble ahead.

Routes: Wit’s End || Partner in Crime

[bewitchingwitch]

Great Gatsby AU pt.1

So this is the first part of my Great Gatsby au! It’s a reader x Theseus fic and it won’t be as long as Constellations it will probably only be like 5 parts. I know it’s short but I wanted to post something so I hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 1,900

Theseus glanced at you from the corner of his eye. You both were sitting in the Minister's office. She had called you both in for a special mission, and Theseus was thrilled that he got paired with you. He had known you since 4th year in Hogwarts. And he had had the biggest crush on you since forth year.

He met you by chance durning a quidditch game. He was chasing the snitch not bothering to notice where he was going, and the snitch led him into the opposing teams side. He had lept off his broom to catch it and had collided with you knocking you got he floor of the stands.

He had apologized profusely and all you could say to him was I guess you just knocked me off my feet and you winked at him. He remembered turning red and stuttering, unable to form a complete sentence. He hadn't even caught the snitch, his teammates had to come and drag him back into the field. You had just giggled and blew a kiss at him as he resumed playing.

For the rest of the game he couldn't keep his eyes off of you and Hufflepuff ended up losing the game to Gryffindor. Right after the game he  scanned the crowd looking for you. And he had found you only to find that you had a boyfriend and was heartbroken.

Nonetheless you two still did become friends and even after you had broken up with your boyfriend he still couldn't find it in him to ask you out. But he did stay by your side all through Hogwarts and all through Auror training. You both had been stationed at the British Ministry, and even after all these years he could never bring himself to ask you out. He didn't want to ruin your guys friendship so he silently suffered as he watched you flirt with Charles from The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.

He hated Charles with his perfect American boy good looks, with his slicked back blonde hair and blue eyes. He was always flirting with you and you always flirted with him and...

"Mr Scamander. Mr. Scamander can you hear me!" The Minister yelled at him knocking him out of his thoughts.

"I- um. Yes Minister." Theseus blushed at the realization he hadn't actually been listening.

"I'm sure you were." She glared at him and he wanted to sink lower into his chair. "As I was saying you two will be infiltrating the big party Jay Gatsby is having tonight."

"Jay Gatsby? Why isn't he just another harmless, rich and snobby muggle?" You asked as you crossed your arms across his chest.

"Muggle no. Harmless he’s far from it." Theseus answered cutting off the Minister. The minister leaned back in her chair clearly not impressed with Theseus’ interruption. “I’m sorry Minister.”

“No I insist continue since you think you can provide a better explanation to Ms. (y/l/n). Than I, the elected official Minister, can” Theseus turned bright red and cast his eyes downward. You stifled a giggle. Theseus smiled at the though that he had done something to make you laugh. “As I was saying Jay Gatsby is not a muggle he is a wizard.”

“What really?” Your eyes widened in interest. you leaned forward and the hem of your dress slid up and Theseus averted his eyes.

“Do you really think an ordinary muggle would be able to bootleg that much alcohol?” The Minister tosses to Manila folder at Theseus and you. You both took them and opened them up.

“Fair point. And I knew no muggle could be that good looking.” You starred down at the folder that had a picture of Gatsby attached to it. He moved in the picture turning over his shoulder as if the photographer had caught him my surprise. Theseus felt a rush of anger as he watched you admire the picture of Gatsby.

Ahem.” The Minister cleared you out of your fantasy’s about Gatsby. “And normally we don’t intervene in these types of things but Gatsby is becoming hazardous. If he continues scamming muggles at outrages prices he could get caught and expose our world.”

“Your assignment is to attend the party Gatsby is having tonight and bring him back so the ministry can... handle him. You will posing as a couple interested in becoming involved in Gatsby’s scam. You do whatever it takes to bring Gatsby back.” You looked up at the minister and gave her a curt nod.

“We don’t let you down.”

Theseus was over the moon. Sure it was fake but nonetheless he got to pose as your boyfriend even if it was for only one night. And he wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.

********************************************

“Do you think this looks bad?” You twirled around in a blue flapper looking gown.

Theseus was laying down on your bed. He turned to look at you. “As I’ve said to the last 5 outfits you look marvelous.”

You opened your mouth to interject but he cut you off. “And no I’m not just saying that because it’s getting later and we should be there.” He smiled at you the corner of his eyes crinkling. “I sincerely mean it.”

You just rolled your eyes. “I don’t know. I’m trying to match your outfit.”

Theseus looked down at what he was wearing, it was simple black suit with a white dress shirt with a black tie. “Any gown will match I’m wearing black. And I can guarantee any gown you wear will look ten times better on you than I look in this suit.” Theseus propped himself up in one elbow so he could see you clearly.

“Aren’t you a charmer.” You playfully teased.

“Quite.”

You began to take off the dress not bothering this time to go back into the bathroom to change. “W-What are you doing?” Theseus turned completely red as he watched you slide the dress down exposing him to the black lingerie you were wearing.

“What?” You asked innocently.

“Why are you changing out here?” He tugged at the collar of his suit feeling it becoming tight.

“Cause were in a hurry.” You went over to your closet and flipped through your dresses.

“But-“

“Theseus the longer we argue over this the longer I end up taking getting ready.”

Theseus shut his mouth and plopped back down on the bed. He grabbed one of your pillows and placed it in his lap. Why did you do theses things to him? He couldn’t get the image of you out of his head, the way the lingerie hugged your body the way your stomach spilled so eloquently over the edge of you underwear making him want to hug you around the middle. The way the bra pushed up your breasts allowing him to see the stretch marks that decorated right underneath, a pattern that he’d want to spend all morning tracing.

He needed to stop thinking about you like this or else you guys would have a special guest coming with you guys to the party.

“Okay I think this is the one.” Theseus sat up still making sure that the pillow was resting on his lap.

You were now wearing a black gown that stoped at your ankles. It had a deep v neck cut with an intricate silver design. The black stopped right after your hips and the fabric after was tassels. So if you sung your hips enough Theseus could almost see under your dress. Stop that he told himself, he didn’t like the way that dress made him think about you. It felt wrong like you were his to see but without your consent.

But you had worn it because you saw the way he looked and you, and you loved it. The way his eyes scanned your legs up and stopped at your chest. It made you feel special because when he looked at you some part of you knew it wasn’t just out of lust.

“So what do you think.” You smirked and you twirled the dress reveling more and more of your legs.

“I- um it’s- you’re stunning.” He stared at you with an open mouth.

You felt your face heat up. “Thank you.” You’d aid softly as you avert your eyes. You grabbed your coat and made you way to the door. “Are you coming?”

“Yea I am just, give me like 15 minutes I’ll meet you in the car.” He smiled awkwardly hoping that you wouldn’t catch on to why he needed to wait to go.

“Okay.” Complete oblivious you made your way to the car that was parked outside of your apartment. He plopped back down on the bed and closed his eyes.

Theseus joined you exactly 15 minutes later, you were reapplying your lipstick when he got in, he noticed, smirking to himself, and pressed on the gas real quick making your hand drag the lipstick across your chin.

“Theseus!” You shouted as you hit him across his chest.

He chuckled and actually began to drive while you angrily tried to wipe the red off your face. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” He looked over at you giving you a soft smile. You fought not to give him one back but you did.

You arrived at the big mansion to see cars piled on top of one another making it impossible to get in. “This is it?” Your eyes widened as you watched the fireworks explode above the white mansion in awe.

“I believe so.” You guys parked and you took Theseus’ arm he melted into your touch. Your heels clicked on the pavement as you slept walked up watching all sorts of unusual people make their way into the mansion. Circus performers and singer, dancers, one of whom who winked at Theseus making you tingle with jealously.

You walked through the door and the noise surrounded you. There was something going on in every corner of the room. There were flappers dancing around an indoor pool, and trapeze artists swinging from the roof. The entire room seemed to be covered in this pinkish purple smoke. Everything about it made you giddy.

Your eyes wandered to the stairs in the middle of the room. There was a balcony and then the stairs led off to the right and left. Standing on the balcony was a man in a white suit who had his back facing you. Streamer flew past him along with corks from champagne bottles. The roof above him had a sky light that allowed you to see the fireworks.

As he turned you took a sharp breath. It was Jay Gatsby, the colors from the fireworks illuminated his features. He looked around and his eyes seemed to land on you. His blue eyes sparkled. He seemed to smile at you. Theseus glanced over to find you memorized and decided right then and there he hated Jay Gatsby.

Gatsby continued to stare into your soul and you starred without shame back. And you though that his picture didn’t do him justice. He winked and gave a small wave and then disappeared in the doors behind the balcony. It seemed like he was inviting you to come along with him.

You took a step forward and Theseus reached out to grab your hand. “Where are you going.”

“To go find Jay Gatsby.”

Taglist: @hearteyesmotherclucker @theroyalbrownbarbie @hoodedbirdie @annyinlovewithkpop @c8n10n4o2-geek @martarosado @nanjaeminie @nanjaeminniee @moisoverennyi-thestarlessone @profangirllex @gaenahelleborus @melodramaticmelon2118 @michellekstr @nctyong-xo @preppy-by-the-c @sweetlyshinylady @emo-plaidin @dreacantsleep @theetherealbloom @lily2089 @mywckdmind @barbarachern @imbiandiwanttocry @ollyoxenfrees @newtslatte @pettylady @februarycalum @justanotherenglisheducationmajor @feelthefeelingsinsideyou @ombriescent @ztinge @liloefuru @babywizardoll @heckin-kat @thewitchmadness @bunnie-kookie @the-fandom-life-forever @missanonyma @frozen-blue-eyes @newletas @sassycassyhoneybee @spookysunflowr @arosewithdaisies @spreaded-butter @dreacantsleep @constantdisgrace @madamnouiselle @pureawesomeness001 @hp-forever-generation @princeofsassgard @hereiamhereigo @coniumalces

[thecursedvaultchild]

Catching a Chaser

This is a modified version of an rp @slytherin-puffskein and I did. Enjoy!

---

Another Quidditch practice. So boring.

Summer Charn yawned and stretched out on the bleachers. There weren't many people around to watch the Slytherin team practice, so she had plenty of space to herself. But she was so disinterested, she wasn't even aware of what they were doing anymore.

All she did know was that Keeper, whatever Avery, he was attractive. The wind kept blowing his shirt up and sweat glistened in his dark hair... Oh man.

Once again, Laurent had begged Summer to witness his Quidditch practise. He had recently received the role of captain, so he dearly wished for his friend to see him in action at least one time. Luckily, she accepted, pretending that she couldn't wait to see him order around other players... but frankly, he was fairly sure she only accepted so that she could admire their Keeper.

Right, Avery is attractive, but Quidditch is ten times more interesting! Lau would repeatedly try to convince himself, even though his gaze did flick to the handsome seventh-year a time or two.

"Ok, Conner, make sure to swing your bat properly! And Jackson, for the last time, get your head out of that!"

Sometimes, he would take the time to look at Summer from his broom and smile at her... but he was way too far away for her to notice the glint in his eyes. If she could see it, she would have immediately known one thing: King was planning something.

She chuckled as Lau's bossy voice flooded the stadium and broke her out of her stare. Is that what I sound like as a prefect? Merlin, I hope not. I love him but he's enjoying being captain waaay too much. But whatever, good for him becoming captain. Gave him something to worry about that wasn't pranking Snape.

Avery perfectly caught and hit back the Quaffle, his muscles in his arms rippled as he did do. She was definitely going to go up to Avery after practice. Tell him he was a good Keeper and maybe he could help keep her busy?

Merlin, Lau was certain Avery knew that Summer was staring at him... because he was entirely showing off. Never had he played that good, or looked that handsome. He probably gave himself that rough, sweaty look on purpose in order to attract Summer's gaze. I cannot judge him. I would do the same with a cute guy. However...

"Avery! Focus on the Quaffle, not girls!"

And he snickered at that, before focusing on one of their Chasers. Smith, an absolute, terrible prat. Why did the past captain even let him in the team? He was about as talented on a broom as Lau was in Transfiguration, which meant: not at all. Plus, he was an asshole, and Lau often caught him staring at Summer's ass in the most perverted way. Summer would be a much better Chaser.

So he was going to take care of Smith.

Summer was still staring at Avery. I need to learn his first name. How come I only know people's surnames? Not that there's anything wrong with the name Avery of course. And holy smokes, he was doing really good at playing. Not that she cared much but why date a bad Quidditch player when there were people like Avery?

She laughed at the captain's stern command, lazily twiddling her fingers. "Just providing moral support! GO SNAKES!"

Smith sucks. That's the third time he's missed a pass. I could do better than that. But very quickly her gaze was pulled from the prat back Avery as he completely removed his sweat-soaked shirt, abs and muscles in perfect view. Too bad he couldn't do that during an actual game, that'd make things more entertaining.

Summer wasn't the only one to see Avery remove his shirt. Lau did too, and he actually froze for a few seconds, his gaze fixed on these lovely abs. Luckily, Avery wasn't seeing that: his attention was either on the Quaffle (good) or on Summer (bad, as he should focus on the Quaffle only).

As he finally gathered back his focus, he managed to hear Smith's shrill, almost strangled voice. Dear Merlin, why is allowed to talk. His knuckles gripped on his broom hardly, though, as he understood what the Chaster was saying: "Captain's a flipping fag".

That was enough to strength Lau's objective to drag that man down. He snapped his fingers, gesturing at Smith.

"Smith, go and try to make a goal. Avery, do your best to stop him."

She stiffened, hearing what that thickheaded Smith had just said about the captain. Lau. Her strawberry child. Oh, Smith is going to pay for that later. I think I can make an exception to my hex rule to give him a nice little curse. Once there's less witnesses.

Her eyes narrowed and she stared at Avery, leaning forward in her seat, eager to see him take down that sick son of a hag. For once she was interested in their practice. Come on, Avery. Don't let him anywhere NEAR the goal. Prove you're an amazingly hot, er, an amazingly good Quidditch Keeper.

Smith scoffed, puffing his chest out and pushing a few hair strands away from his face in a visible attempt to attract that cute girl on the bleachers' attention. At that sight, Avery rolled his eyes, and bit back a scathing comment. Meanwhile, Lau had released a Snitch in order to train... or well, pretend to train. He had something in mind, and he was going to deliver. For now, though, he only needed to lay low and pray to Merlin he will be fast enough.

"Alright, Avery, here I come ! You're going down!"

The Keeper, however, looked less than impressed, and only stared with a raised eyebrow as Smith charged forward, Quaffle tucked under his arm.

And...

CRASH!

Suddenly, both Smith and King were on the ground.

"GALLOPING GARGOYLES!"

Summer practically Apparated with how fast she had moved from the stands to the pitch ground. She hauled Lau off Smith, frantically checking him for injuries.

"Lau. Lau! LAU! Are you okay?!" She licked her thumb then used it to wipe the streak of dirt off his face, ignoring the groans of Smith next to them.

"Ah! I'm fine, Sum, I'm fine!" the redhead giggled.

Luckily, he had landed on Smith, which... had made the fall feel a lot less worst. Just like I planned. Calmly, he wiped the dirt off his Quidditch robes, acting as if he had only tripped down. Why was he being so calm? The answer was simple: right next to him, Smith was still sprawled on the ground, whining and clutching at his leg.

"My leg! You floppin' idiot, I'm sure my ankle is twisted, now!"

"What a pity," Avery mumbled, landing next to the Chaser.

"Oh? I'm so sorry, Smith," Lau purred, putting on his most innocent and worried face. "I was chasing for the Snitch, and I accidentally knocked you off..."

"Idiot! I can't train, now! Or even play, next match is in a week!"

What a relief Lau was okay and Smith was hurting. Summer couldn't help the sneer from crossing her face. "Good. You're so bad at Chasing, Smith, you couldn't catch your own nose if it shoved down your throat."

Avery and a few other players went "Ooh," and one said, "Oh snap," and vindictive pleasure flooded her. She felt no regrets of any kind for saying it. She was not on the team and not obligated to help maintain team cooperation. Plus, he totally deserved it. She was still going to curse him later.

"Also, detention, Smith."

"WHAT?!"

"You heard me. I heard Filch was complaining about all the trophies needing a good polish. Maybe you can even stare at the Quidditch Cup and fantasize about you ever being a half as good a player as King."

Her eyes caught Avery's and she smirked just a little.

Look at her, destroying people. While Summer's prefect status might be deadly for Lau's pranking schemes, it also turned out to come extremely handy during situations like this. As Smith was too busy trying to work out a coherent sentence, Lau turned to the first player he saw, which happened fyi be another Chaser.

"Take Smith to the Hospital Wing and come back as quick as possible. We can't waste a single minute of practice."

The Chaser nodded and hauled Smith up, basically dragging him away. Needless to say, Smith wasn't one of the most well-liked players. After a few seconds of silence, Avery finally broke it.

"But Lau, how are we going to play now that Smith's gone? Our other Chasers are good, yes, but I don't think we'll be able to handle a match with only two of them."

"Well, Charn can take his place for the time being." Lau simply replied, shrugging.

"Wait, whAT?!"

She was snapped out of her internal gloating of victory by those dreaded words. Charn can take his place for the time being. Summer whipped around to face him.

"Excuse me??? Oh Captain, not my Captain, I. Don't. Play."

Quidditch jocks may be a weakness of hers but she prided herself on not being one of them. Why suffer on a broomstick in whatever weather nature decided to throw at you when you could be inside, next to a warm fire, with a cat in your lap and a book in your hands? Oh Merlin, please let Avery still like me. It's not like I try to hide my dislike of Quidditch.

..........he was really, really hot though. And being on the team—just for a little while—would let her spend more time around him without needing to come up with an excuse. Oh man, he was still shirtless. She bit her lip, arms crossed.

"C'mon, Sum! I see you during flying classes, you have potential, whether you like it or not"

And he was saying the truth. Whenever he would see Summer on a broom, he would immediately marvel over how perfect her posture was. No possible flaw in sight, only absolute perfection! With some serious training, Laurent was certain that Summer could become an amazing Chaser.

He knew, however, that she won't be convinced with the simple 'your technique is perfect' argument. No, he needed to dig deeper... and he knew exactly where to. He spun to Avery, a glint in his eyes.

"Ave, would you mind handing Summer a broom and teach her a thing or two?"

She couldn't breathe for a moment. Quickly getting herself together, she gives Avery a dazzling smile, eyes flitting over his abs. "Could you excuse us for a just a second? I'll be right back."

And she drags Lau away from the team, out of earshot. "You crashed into Smith on purpose." Her voice is a faint hiss. "Look, I came to those tryouts because you begged and pleaded me to but I didn't make the team. I don't want to be on the team. Why are you doing this? Slytherin will lose the cup because of me. I don't play."

"C'moooon, Sum! I'm like 80% certain you sabotaged yourself during these tryouts. You're good, I'm sure you can bring the other teams down with us!"

A smile was etched on his face, and it wasn't going to fade away easily. Quickly, he grabbed Summer's hands, holding them tightly and giving her his best Puffskein eyes, sticking out his bottom lip.

"Pleasepleaseplease, Summer! Just imagine the two of us playing together! It would be soooo amazing! So what if I crashed into Smith on purpose? He insulted me! Everyone hates him! And everyone likes you! I'm only doing what is best for the team." Yeah, sure.

I would kill for this idiot. Aaaaaand I guess I'll play Quidditch for him too. Why, why, why did he have to pull out the cute Puffkein look? It was nearly impossible to resist its full force.

"Ugh, fine. I'll play." She glanced at shirtless Avery, pursing her lips together. "But aren't you worried I'll be a distraction? Like you said, focus on the Quaffle, not the girls." She raised an eyebrow, a silver curl falling in front of her face.

She'd play but not without a little squabble. She didn't care about Quidditch but it meant a lot to Lau. Along with that stupid Quidditch Cup. She never saw the appeal when it was more fun to cast spells and duel.

"You'll play?" Lau exclaimed, stepping closer to his friend and holding her hands even tighter. "You will? Aw, yes!"

Sparkles passed through his brown eyes, proving pure, unfiltered joy that could in no way be destroyed. Summer was going to be a backup player, and that was all Laurent King needed.

Even if it had to come with some flirting. "Eh, Avery's a better player when he's got motivation. If a cute girl can make him more efficient, then so be it" he proceeded to pat her shoulder, and turned to the other players. "OI! WE GOT A BACKUP PLAYER!"

Aww that face. He's so delighted. I can't take this away from him. No way.

"All right, Captain. You've got me."

She faintly rolled her eyes but smiled at the cheers, walking towards them with Lau. Getting closer, she crossed her arms and pulled her sweater off, making sure Avery could see, and started loosely tying her hair back.

"Well, someone get me a broom. I'm not flying the piece of trash belonging to Smith."

A grin was given Avery's way. He stood there with his own grin, sweet gleaming on him, hair tousled. She wanted to run her fingers through it. I've got a date, I know it.

One of the Beaters was quick to get Summer a broom, surely hoping to get at least a smile from her. Lau had to hold back a giggle. Sorry, kiddo, but Summer seems entirely focused on Avery right now. And frankly, who could blame her? He was seriously hot, it would have been impossible for Summer to not flirt with him in any way. The Keeper was quick to grab the Quaffle that has been resting on the ground ever since Smith's fall, and he handed it to Summer.

"Make sure to show me everything you've got," he said with a smirk.

Lau had to hold back a sigh. I need to put up with this, I will put up with this, you can do it, man. Plus, they sort of looked like a cute match. Laurent grabbed his broom, and quickly raised in the air. "Come on now, let's go!"

***

I'm dead.

Lau did not mess around as captain when it came to practice. He pushed her just as fiercely as he pushed the rest of the team. And she hated to admit it, but he was right. She had potential. After Avery had her undivided attention for twenty minutes, teaching her things about playing Quidditch that weren't covered in Flying class, she had done pretty good. She was fast and maneuverable and hadn't dropped the Quaffle too many times. And she had managed a few goals against Avery (but she was pretty sure that was him letting her. Or her smile was distracting enough. Who knew.)

But wow, Lau was incredible. Actually paying attention, she could see why he was made captain. He was the quickest on his broom, had a sharp eye, and was good at getting the group focused and amiable together. It was truly... Impressive.

Summer dragged behind the others as they left the pitch. Avery going with them after she promised to see him in two hours outside the common room. She yanked her socks off and just let her feet sink in the grass, idly bouncing the Quaffle.

As soon as he slipped into the lockers, Laurent immediately got rid of his Quidditch clothing in order to take a well deserved shower, along with other players. While that at first the thought of public showers had rubbed him in the wrong way, he was now perfectly used to it, and that for two reasons: one, hot guys, and second, with his reputation of being a reckless person no one bothered to question his multiple scars and blamed them on his numerous shenanigans.

Once he was finally done, he threw on his uniform and ruffled his hair a little in a poor attempt to dry them. Patting Avery and other players' shoulders, he wished them a good day before walking back to the pitch, barefooted. It wasn't long until he found Summer, and he walked up to her, hands sank into his pants' pockets.

"So? What did you think of it?"

"I'm gonna die. I'm not a jock."

She stretched out her sour muscles, not particularly caring if Lau saw her stomach or not as she did so. Merlin, did she hurt.

"I do think I'm better than Smith. BUT don't get your hopes up of permanently replacing him. I'm still not interested in Quidditch. I am interested in Avery though... Mmm."

She couldn't stop looking at him. Honestly, how come she hadn't noticed him sooner in her life? Smart, strong, deadly handsome. He was a keeper. Sum snorted at herself.

"But what did you think, Cap? You're the actual Quidditch expert."

Actual Quidditch expert. He couldn't help but blush. "I think that you were great, Summer. Sure, you did a few mistakes every beginner would make, but it's just like I thought: you have potential."

And she can either choose to explore it, or not. Laurent would never force her to play Quidditch for him, and would let her go if she wanted to pursue other activities, but... he secretly hoped she will stay at least as a backup player for scenarios during which a Chaser gets hurt.

"Sooo... will you play for the next match ? I doubt Smith will be fully healed, and you have amazing comradeship with other players. Especially Avery. Meanwhile, Smith can't even bother to greet them."

"Thanks. And I have to hand it to you, Lau. You're good. Snape was right for recognizing your briliance for once and making you captain. Just please don't become Egwu. And don't let him know. I already can't stand him pestering Charlie to try and go pro. He's an idiot for not seeing that Charlie is only into Quidditch because he can fly. Like a flipping dragon."

Running a hand through her hair, she sighed. "Yeah, I'll play next match. Shoot, Egwu will totally see. I'm just going to avoid him like dragonpox for the next month."

Oh, Avery. Yeah, she could tolerate being sweaty if it meant more time with Avery. I can't wait for tonight.

"Ha! Good luck with avoiding Egwu. He's terrible when he has something in mind... he can, and will find you."

He had no idea if that would really happen, of course, but he just loved to tease his friend, as well as Prefect. It was sort of his own way to get back at her for all the detentions she had given him.

"You're gonna be an amazing player, Charn. Here's to more victories.~"

"I'm a dead woman walking then."

She shook her head, nudging him. Dorky jock.

"Thanks, King. More victories indeed." She kissed his cheek. "Now I've got a date in two hours!" And she took off running for the castle.

Fin.

[sirius-archive]

chasing fire (remus x reader)

Pairing: Young!Remus x Female reader, lowkey Young!Sirius x Female Reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, locker room sex, swearing, ummm i think thats it?

Reader’s house: Gryffindor

Age: 18 (in their Seventh year)

A/N: After many, many versions of this and a whole lot of slamming my head against the keypad, I have finally finished this fic! Requested by the lovely @marauderskeeper who was ever so patient with this darn fic. I hope you like it love. 

Summary: Remus hates (Y/N) more than words can describe. And by hate, he means loves. Yeh, he definitely has it bad for (Y/N)

It started with an argument in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

A really dumb argument, Remus admitted, though he wasn’t necessarily good at picking his battles and he had a feeling (Y/N) already knew that. And he really should have known better by now, because they had been playing this game for years, but conceding meant she was right, and Remus wasn’t going to let her win that easy. (Y/N) won a lot of things, but Remus wasn’t one of them.

“It’s probably no big deal but you’re doing it wrong.”

Remus’ grip on his wand tightened, his teeth clenched tightly in frustration. He had felt her presence before she had spoken, but he had chosen to ignore her. He wasn’t about to be distracted by her sweet nothings and sultry stares.

When he didn’t respond, he heard (Y/N) saunter up to him until she stood beside him. 

“You’d be much better off with Flipendo.”

Remus rolled his eyes, “Expelliarmus is just as effective.”

“Yes, but do you really want your opponent to get back up? Wouldn’t it be better if they just stayed down?”

Remus raised an eyebrow at her, briefly wondering if she meant another curse entirely instead of the simple knockback jinx. Then he realized that this was (Y/N), and she was probably riling him up just for kicks.

“That sounds a lot more sinister than just defending yourself,” Remus noted with a querying brow.

“Maybe,” she smirked, “but I’d rather just get the job finished instead of leaving it half done.”

“What are you saying? That you’d rather kill someone so you can win a duel?”

(Y/N) frowned at him, “What type of person do you think I am? Of course not!” she smirked, mischief glinting in her eyes, “But I’m not the type of person to leave someone hanging. I want to leave them satisfied.”

Remus rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “I’m sure they’d be super satisfied to–”

His words trailed off when he felt her touch glide across his shoulder, following the length of his arm until her fingers grazed across his white-knuckled grip. He stood very still, his heart pounding against his chest like a fist, as (Y/N) curled her fingers around his wrist.

“All you have to do is adjust your grip like so. And then you’ve got them.”

Remus was suddenly aware of how close she was standing to him, her breasts pressing into his back. He felt rather than saw her reach up to stand on the tips of her toes so her breath could fan over his ear.

“Flipendo,” she whispered, and Remus struggled to fight the shudder that rattled his spine.

“Flipendo!”

The target flew three feet across the room and slammed into the wall, it’s wooden limbs splintering. He turned to face her and noticed a hunger in her eyes that he hadn’t seen before. Something jolted through him, heading straight to the region beneath his belt.

“You’re finally catching on now,” she grinned and turned on her heel, flouncing away with a swing of her hips. 

It was at that moment that he realized what she had meant, that, as she had hinted earlier, she couldn’t care less about the spell he chose to disarm his opponent. It was a game, and she had him at checkmate. He suddenly felt like she had cast the knockback jinx on him as his mind raced and his breath quickened.  

“What the hell just happened?” Remus breathed to himself, desperately trying to will away the tension in his pants.  

Somewhere behind him, James, Sirius and Peter shared a knowing smirk.

“I wonder how long it will take before they find a broom closet and just get it over with.” Peter sighed, his eyes flicking between the two of them.

“2 galleons says two days,” Sirius smirked.  

“4 galleons says a week,” James remarked, extending his arm to his friend, “They’re both too proud and stubborn for their own good.”

“You’re on.” Sirius shook James’s hand. Peter raised a brow at them, folding his arms across his chest.

“Somehow, I think you’re both going to lose.”

As Remus strode across the Quidditch pitch, he couldn’t help his wandering thoughts from drifting to his encounter with (Y/N) earlier that day. For the entire time that he had known her for, he had believed that she just enjoyed riling him up, when she had just been using it as an excuse to flirt with him. He had never felt more stupid in his life.

Up above him, James scolded Gabriel Hawthorne, soaring past the beater with a bite in his words. Remus turned his gaze skyward and spotted (Y/N) hovering next to David Keen. He’s reminded of how she felt pressed against him, the heat radiating off her body, her lips tantalizingly close to his ear lobe as she whispered into his ear.

Flipendo.

“Moony!”

In the distance, Remus spotted Sirius and Peter in the stands, and, abandoning his racing thoughts to the furthest part of his mind, he rushed toward them. Upon approaching them, Sirius gave him an odd look that made Remus feel like his thoughts aren’t so private after all.

“Come to support your boyfriend?” Remus snipped, trying to grasp the upper hand of the conversation. Sirius’ smirk broadened.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

“A damn poor one.”

“Well, he knows it’s only about the sex. Besides, we all know that I’m a strictly no-strings-attached type of guy,” Sirius’ eyes glimmered deviously, “But what type of girl do you think (Y/N) is?”

“You’re her best friend, shouldn’t you already know?” Remus bited back.

“Yeah, but I’m not that type of friend, though it would be nice.”

“Be nice?”

“Well, she’s smart, funny and beautiful,” Sirius smirked, “What more could a guy want?”

Sirius’ eyes wandered over to (Y/N), who was weaving through the air in pursuit of the golden snitch. Remus blinked at her, suddenly feeling oddly possessive of her. After a moment of admiring (Y/N), Sirius turned back to Remus, grinning devilishly.

“You guys think I’m here for James, and that’s only half true. I’m also here to admire the view…”

Remus rolled his eyes, forcing himself to appear unaffected by Sirius’ taunting. He knew Sirius and his antics, and he knew this was all to rile him up. But he couldn’t ignore the jealous beast inside of him that was snapping its jaws at Sirius’ stupid, smug face.

Beside him, Peter squirmed uncomfortably and pointed out toward the pitch, “Looks like they’ve finished training!”

“Better go say ‘Hi’ to my bestie,” Sirius winked, rising from his seat and stretching lazily.

“Don’t bother. I’ll pass on the message,” Remus remarked, stiffly, before striding away.

Peter turned to Sirius, eying him carefully.

“You don’t think you were a bit harsh?”

Sirius snorted. “Nah, he’ll be right. It’s about time someone said something anyway, I’m sick of him moping around being sexually constipated all the time.”

Peter shrugged, “Well, if you say so…”

Remus’ thoughts were a whirlpool in his skull as he walked toward the locker room, cursing himself, Sirius, and everyone he can think of. He could hear James and Sirius in the distance, laughing and bantering with the rest of the team as they made their way toward the castle. But Remus only wanted to be around one person at the moment.

“(Y/N)?” he called out as he pushed open the door, listening for her response.

“Remus,” her voice came from behind him, and he turned, his jaw dropping open when his eyes fell on her. (Y/N) stood before him, wrapped in a towel and steam radiating off her naked body. He mouthed a wordless apology, expecting her to scold him and shoo him out of the locker room. Instead, she surprised him with a smirk.

“Weren’t expecting this?” she asked, stepping closer to him.

“I…er…wasn’t sure w-what to expect,” Remus stuttered, tripping over his words like a fool as he caught a whiff of her shampoo.

(Y/N) chortled, “You know, Sirius tried to bait me into making me jealous earlier. James did, too.”

“Sirius did the same thing to me, too,” Remus murmured, trying with all his might not to drop his gaze from her eyes.

“Hmm,” (Y/N) hummed, her face inches from his, “I think I know what they’re up too. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they made a bet.”

“Tossers,” Remus muttered as (Y/N) crept even closer.

“Why don’t we beat them at their own game?” (Y/N) whispered, and Remus furrowed his brows at her.

“What do you mean–?”

Before Remus could finish his sentence, (Y/N) recklessly crashed her lips against his in a passionate kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. Though initially shocked, Remus responded fairly quickly, kissing her back fiercely, and before he knew it, he was being slammed up against the lockers, (Y/N)’s fingers fiddling with the edge of his shirt.

“Take it off,” she demanded, her voice husky and her lips swollen. Remus shed his shirt with ease before claiming her lips again. It was a mess of teeth and tongue, and he swore he tasted blood when she bit down on his bottom lip.  

Remus gripped her shoulders and flipped them around, pushing her up against the lockers. Her towel fell from her body and she gasped against the sudden sensation of the cool steel biting into her warm skin. Her fingers found his hair to pull and tug at the sandy-brown strands, soft and thick in her tightening grasp. Remus groaned at the feeling and trailed kisses down her neck, her head lulling back against the locker.

“Finally,” she sighed as he sucked on the tender flesh of her neck, “I can’t believe – oh – it took you so l-long…”

“Merlin, you’re such a smartass,” Remus groaned into her neck. He nipped a spot on her neck that made her moan and buck against him, and he smiled, relishing in the way that her grasp tightened in his hair as she desperately tried to reclaim her control, “It’s time someone taught you a lesson.”

“Mhm,” she hummed, her hands sliding down the muscles of his back before catching on his belt, “When you say it like that…”

(Y/N)’s hand slipped between them to unbuckle his belt, her fingers fumbling with anticipation. He laughed against her skin as she groaned in frustration, and when she finally got the wretched thing off, she tugged them off his hips.

“Someone’s eager,” he growled before he peeled himself away from her neck to plant kisses down her chest. She whined when his lips found her nipple, and he took the taut bud into his mouth, biting down on the tender flesh.

He scaled back up her body and pressed a kiss to her lips and she moaned. He couldn’t help but slip into it, like he was drunk on amortentia, dizzy and starved and craving more. He had to resist the primal urge to bend her over and fuck her senseless right then and there because some part of him wanted to savour this, but the other part somehow knew she had the same, animalistic desire too.

His resolve, however, to taunt her the same way she had taunted him, flew out the window when she gripped his cock through his boxers.

“You’ve been hiding this from me this entire time?” she rasped, stroking his erection, “Remus, you’ve been holding out on me.”

Remus wanted to respond but words failed to form on the tip of his tongue, slipping into an unintelligible moan. She snickered, her hand slowly pumping him.

“You want something, Remus?” she asked, all cocky and sure. (Y/N) fiddled with the hem of his boxers and Remus caught the hint, shoving them down so that his cock sprung free.

The first time he had sex, his partner had been so shocked at the length of his cock, he half expected her to bolt out of the room and never see him again. Though he had gone slow, careful not to hurt her, she still had to waddle around the school the next morning, and she couldn’t look at him without glancing at his crotch.

He expected the same reaction out of (Y/N).

He watched her carefully as she stared, and before he knew it, she had gripped him again, stroking his length with a growl.

“You are amazing,” she groaned, “I need you inside me, Remus. Fuck.”

Surprised by her enthusiasm, Remus groaned and kissed her passionately, “Don’t need to be told twice.”

“Well don’t make me.”

Their lips met again as Remus hoisted (Y/N) up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her soaked core dragging against his erection.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Remus growled as he aligned himself with her entrance and sank inside.

(Y/N) threw her head back in pleasure as they both groaned. She was so tight and so warm, her pussy so inviting as he continued to slide inside of her. When he reached the hilt, he waited until she adjusted, and once she gave a whine of approval, Remus began to thrust.

Remus’ hips snapped against her as he set a pace, his balls slapping against her as he took her. She mewled and moaned beneath him, her hands tangled in his hair and her breath hot on his neck. He planted kisses on her neck, sucking and licking at the flesh, whispering words of praise into her ear.

“Oh, Fuck,” she cursed as he plowed into her, getting lost in her depths, “Harder Remus, fuck me harder.”

Remus growled and increased his pace, pounding into her with wild abandon. His head spun a little because he was pretty that (Y/N) had become a fixed point in time and, somehow, the earth revolved around her. Centuries of science tossed out the window, as well as logic and reason. Maybe it was irrational, maybe he was just a parched and hungry man desperately trying to quench his desires. But he knew for certain that right now, at this moment, it was just him and (Y/N).

With this single thought in mind, Remus used one hand to support her while the other snaked between them to rub her clit. (Y/N) shuddered beneath him, a low moan escaping her shapely lips. He worked her into a frenzy, his fingers rubbing circles on the small pearl as his cock pumped in and out of her.

“Merlin, I’m gonna cum, Remus!” she cried before her pussy clenched around him and she came, squeezing him like a vice. Remus plunged into her with increased effort, chasing his own release. (Y/N) was all-too-eager to help, whispering sins into his ear that would make Satan blush.  

With a little encouragement from her tight walls and the praise of her words, Remus came, roaring her name and spilling inside of her. His cock twitched inside of her as cum pulsed down the length of his cock, and (Y/N) sighed, planting a kiss on his cheek as she held him close. After a few moments, Remus pulled out of her, placing her gently on the ground.

(Y/N) pulled him into a kiss, her lips moving against his softly. It was gentle and graceful and nothing like the way they kissed when he was fucking her into the lockers. He broke the kiss to press his forehead to hers, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek. She smiled, biting her lip.

“Now, just because that was the most amazing sex I’ve ever had, doesn’t mean we’re no longer academic rivals,” (Y/N) murmured, “No strings attached, right?”

Remus snorted, ignoring the sinking feeling in his chest. He reasoned it was probably for the best. “Right. Whatever you want.”

(Y/N) smiled and kissed him again, and he couldn’t stop the fluttering in his heart that whispered he wanted so much more with her. He couldn’t deny that this was what he really wanted this entire time, that he was too proud to admit it but secretly clung to hope that it would happen. But he could be patient. He was a Pisces after all.

When they broke apart, Remus smiled against her lips, drinking in the view of her flushed face and dancing eyes. “Oh, that’s right. Sirius says ‘Hi’.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, “You think of Sirius just after sex? You really are in love with him…”

Remus snorted, “I think you give him more credit than he deserves.”

(Y/N) laughed and slid out between where she was sandwiched between his body and the wall. She strolled toward the showers, swinging her hips suggestively.  

“And where do you think you’re going?” he asked, brow cocked.

“To clean up,” she replied, smirking devilishly, “You coming for round two or do I have to entertain myself?”

Remus growled, chasing after her with speed. He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her against him before twirling her around and throwing her over his shoulder. She shrieked a laugh as he walked toward the showers.

No strings attached. That was probably what they needed at this point and anything more would complicate things. The last thing Remus wanted was complicated.  

[jimlingss]

Beyond Reach [Finale]

Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 (Finale) Words: 4k Genre: Angst, Grim Reaper!Au, Ghost!Au Summary: If someone could see what you could, they’d pass out. But you don't blame them. Who would ever expect for a ghost, a priestess and a grim reaper to be together - much less be rescuing others.

There are a few envelopes at your side. One is a card for an after-birth baby shower from Dahee. It’s decorated in shades of pink, supposedly the father’s favourite colour.

You’re reminded of the few days you’ve spent with the new mother at her apartment, how you helped her settle down and take care of the newborn. The child is healthy and has become absolutely adorable, sharing a striking resemblance to Jin. At every opportunity, the baby smiles and coos, her lips turning into a silly grin. You wonder if she smiles so much because she knows how much her parents love her, if she’s aware of how she’s blessed to have a father that constantly watches over her.

Between sleeping and the baby batting its eyelashes, Dahee’s managed to settle down quite well despite her husband’s absence. And you’ve become godmother to the child, something Dahee had insisted on doing and something you didn’t refuse either.

Another envelope beside you is an invitation to Taehyung’s graduation. He’s written to you personally, sharing his excitement to finally finish school and he’s invited you to the ceremony. Somehow with Taehyung’s mischievous charms, he’s also managed to convince the school to give him Jimin’s diploma, so that in this way, no one would forget about him.

Jungkook is the other letter that is by you, paper inscribed with ink, meticulous writing as every other letter. He tells you how he’s enrolled full time into university while still keeping a side job. He has plans to open a restaurant in the future, master his mother’s recipes and use them - the best way he’s thought of to remember her by.

Yoongi’s phone call from earlier also lingers in your mind. He’s arrived home from travelling and his last destination was the prison center. He went to go see his sister’s murderer, the person he once trusted to keep his sibling safe and loved, happy for the rest of her life. And somehow with the courage he’s built up, he was able to let the rage go and forgive the man.

Yoongi says he felt as if Kyungi was standing by his side at that moment with her hand on his shoulder, reassuring him that it was the right thing to do. He feels at peace and you’re relieved for him, even happy to hear that he promises to visit you soon.

You still don’t know if you curse your abilities anymore. As a child, you’ve seen skeletons in the closet, watched those who were brutally killed to stand back up again, cry and wail. You’ve been chased by the dead, haunted by their sick giggles. And you’ve felt their pain, their agony as if it was your very own. But for the people you’ve helped, release them of their woe…

You don’t regret it one bit.

The envelopes are momentarily forgotten as you’re transfixed by two individuals in a photograph held between your fingertips.

The picture is ancient, curled at the edges and cloudy, crinkled at the center. Though no matter how long you stare at it, you can still see them, or rather you. You’re in regular clothing, shy of the height you are now, a bright smile adorning your cheeks. The other person beside you has a wide grin, their arm thrown over your shoulder, appearing blissful.

You almost don’t recognize yourself or the other person. The strangers look far too happy, too ignorant to realize the pain that was about to come. The both of them should have never taken their time together for granted. They should’ve known better.

A memory flashes in your mind. One where you were a mere child, disdained by others, adults and children alike. Except for one individual. Someone who knew about the rumours, someone who heard that your eyes could see beyond, to ghosts and ghouls alike. But that same someone didn’t seem to care much.

He called you a strange girl, took your hand and sticked to your side like gum.

A fond smile takes place on your lips as you tuck the photograph away, letting the memories stay as memories.

“Get up.” Namjoon tugs on the small wrist, sighing tiredly. “Stop it.”

The Grim Reaper is unable to make the tiny body budge. After a defeated exhale, he let’s go of the listless arm and kneels down, meeting the size of the child who’s curled up in himself, sobbing in his arm. Namjoon opens his mouth before closing it, speechless and baffled on what to do.

The ghost doesn’t stop weeping, trembling in his little frame, his shoes missing from his feet.

If Namjoon was cold and calculating as his nature makes him out to be, he would haul the child up in his arms, throw him through the open gates and dust his hands off. He would grumble, check the time again and cross off a name from the list. But the Reaper remembers you.

And he slowly lifts his rough hands, brushing the boy’s hair with his calloused fingers in awkward but tender motions. The child still cries, now hiccuping and Namjoon pats the boy's head while clearing his throat and looking away. “Listen...it’s really not that bad.”

“Death isn’t as terrible as people make it out to be. I’m sure you’ll meet some very nice people on the other side.” The Reaper wonders what he’s doing, if he’s actually attempting to comfort a child at the moment. He must be going insane. His booming voice is gone, the intimidating aura has been diminished down and his black hood has fallen onto his shoulders. If Jackson saw what he was doing, he’d laugh his head off and chase Namjoon around with his scythe.

“W-will I meet my mommy?”

The boy peeks his eyes out, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater.

“Maybe.” Namjoon smiles, though he doubts it looks kind in the least bit. But he still tries and surprisingly, the child doesn’t seem too frightened anymore. “You should come with me. I promise you that it won’t be bad. You’ve done nothing wrong so you’ll go to a good place.”

The boy hesitates, looking up at him and the Reaper hesitantly brings forth his palm. “You don’t belong here anymore.” The child seems to contemplate and then he nods, stumbling onto his feet. He takes Namjoon’s hands, interlacing his fingers. The size difference and the timidness of the boy makes Namjoon smile before the pair of them walk towards the light.

“Will you miss me?” Hoseok asks in a teasing tone, leaning down to the level of your eyes. You scoff and he laughs some more. “You will, won’t you? How will you survive without me?”

“You’re not going anywhere.” You chide back, using your broom to swat at him. It’s useless considering he can’t come into contact with any objects but the ghost plays along with you, shrieking and jumping out of the way.

“Y/N!” Your grandmother’s voice startles you and you see her a few meters away, waving her hand. She’s with the group of children, a hoard of them hiding behind her back but one particular girl stands out. She’s in front of the others, cowering down and slowly her finger raises, pointing right at the blue ball that’s rolled near your feet.

You look down at the toy in curiosity and without thinking twice, you take it into your hands.

The girl winces, prepared for you to hurl it at her or confiscate it but you don’t do those things. You set down the broom, striding towards her in slow steps before you crouch down.

“Here, you go.”

A soft smile forms on your lips and the child opens her eyes, looking straight at you in surprise.

Her fingers reach out to the surface of the ball and she collects it within her arms. “Thank you.”

She bows her head and quickly walks away, the other children looking befuddled as to why you didn’t ignore or yell at them. You’re not like the monster they heard about, the one that they tried to conquer or that was cold and frightening.

Your grandmother nods in approval and Hoseok never stops gazing at your backside with his own gentle smile.

“We’ve done so much together.” The ghost comments as you accompany him on a walk, finished with your daily chores. “We’ve figured out people’s last wishes, helped them. We’ve saved people…”

He looks up to the sky, speaking his thoughts out loud until he looks at you again. “Do you still hate your ability?”

“I don’t know.” You sigh, dwelling before you settle on an answer you’re satisfied with. “I....I don’t have any regrets helping them.”

Hoseok wishes he could throw his arm around your shoulder, pull you close to his body and watch as your cheeks would bloom in a shade of rose. Instead, he grins and synchronizes his steps with yours. “I don’t regret it either. Actually, I don’t regret anything. Spending my time as a ghost with you was probably better than my entire life.”

You give him a questionable look. “How can you be so sure?”

“I just am.”

Hoseok replies with a far away look in his eyes. “In the time that I’ve spent with you, I know you, Y/N. And that’s been one of the best privileges of my existence.”

The trees rustle together, sunlight filtering through and shimmering down the stone path. There are green leaves that twirl from the treetops, landing in your way and covering the fresh dirt. It’s peaceful with the birds chirping but you still feel uneasy, curious as to why he’s speaking like this...as if it’s the last time...

The confirmation to your suspicions slap you across the face when you spot a dark shadow at the end of the forest path, the black cloak that whirls in the breeze, the Reaper that stares at you from the faraway distance.

“Why is Namjoon here?”

You immediately stop on your feet, turning to the ghost. “What’s going on, Hoseok?”

He merely looks at you with a softened expression, gazing straight into your eyes with his warm orbs. You already know. “Are you leaving?”

“I have to.”

“No.” You whisper, shaking your head in a delayed reaction. “Wait...you can’t. You don’t remember anything yet. You can’t leave. Weren’t you trying to remember?”

“I was but I realized that this entire time…” He sighs and smiles. “I was worrying about the past, I was worrying about the future and what was going to happen to me. I never once tried to savour the moment and now...I finally am.”

“Hoseok.”

“Y/N. I’m finally here.” Despite what he says, when you reach out to his hand, his skin still passes through yours. “My mind isn’t somewhere else. I’m with you.”

Your voice chokes out a weak murmur, “why now?”

“Because if I stay for any longer, I don’t know if I’ll be able to leave, if I’ll have enough courage to.” His orbs are longing and he still musters up his grin. “I can finally go to the place where I belong.”

This time it’ll be out of his own will. Hoseok won’t run away, be a coward. He will finally face his fate. What he’s suppose to do, where he’s supposed to go. His strength that he is able to gather comes from you.

“I..” You know it’s selfish, that you should look the other way and pretend that this isn’t happening, sleep the pain away and try to forget. You would forget yesterday and the day before that, all so that tomorrow would be easier to breathe. But you can’t let him go.

You can’t try to forget. Not like before. “I don’t want you to go.”

The hue of your irises are clouded with tears. Hoseok clenches his fist, unable to pull you close to his chest. His dead heart thumps for a sheer second but it ultimately dies down to the soundless beat. “You’ll live without me.”

“You’re courageous even if you don’t think you are. You’re strong and the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. You’ll become happy, Y/N. I know you will. You’ll live on, do better things and succeed in your dreams. There’s so much more for you.” Hoseok tips his head to the side, wearing a silly smile as he sniffs discreetly, prohibiting the tears that threaten to shed.

“Your gift let me spend this time much time with you, time that we otherwise wouldn’t have. If you hadn’t helped me…..if I had never met you…” He laughs without mirth. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

You nod, once and then twice, an attempt to try to register what he’s saying. “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be perfectly fine. You will be too.”

He doesn’t need his memories. He doesn’t need to regain his past, recall the life he’s led. This has already been enough for him. Hoseok already knows. There’s no doubt within him, like how the sky is a shade of cerulean and the sun will rise again, for the next day and the day after that.

“Hoseok, thank you...for being with someone like me.”

You watch as the ghost who once promised to return walks ahead. The words you remember so vividly in your mind echo inside your ears - “I’ll come back for you.”. It’s the same person who opened his hand when everyone else alienated you. The same individual that had kissed your lips long ago, held your hands, dispelled away your friend of loneliness. He hasn’t changed.

As Hoseok follows Namjoon to the other world, the white door of the afterlife tearing in the still air, glowing white and opening its gates, he turns around one last time.

Hoseok smiles, the same one where his lips mimic a heart shape and his eyes are crinkled. Tears have made its mark on his cheeks but he never shifts his irises away, gazing at you. Your breath hitches and you make a snapshot of the image as a memory you’ll never forget.

As he walks through to the other side, his last words ring like wind chimes.

“I love you.”

[A Year Ago]

The sunlight vanishes behind him. The only luminescence is provided on top of his blue helmet, giving him a thin beam to see from. He’s in rubble, black dust coating his skin and smeared across his forehead. But he does not falter, wiping away his sweat with the back of his gloves, stepping down the narrow tunnel with caution.

“So, what’s your story?” An older man behind him inquires out of curiosity.

Hoseok chuckles, “what do you mean?”

“It’s not everyday that a young man like you is working in a job like this.” The man’s hands wrap around the pickaxe and he lifts an eyebrow, making conversation in an attempt to obliterate the fatigue. “What brought you to the mines? You need money? You have a wife?”

“I….” Hoseok flutters his eyes shut for a mere moment, thinking back to a flaming crimson skirt, the sweet smile of someone who used to be closed off, not allowing anyone near them. “I’m trying to make a dime or two I guess. I do have someone waiting for me at home.”

The man makes a sound of understanding. “A fiancée then? You gonna marry her?”

Hoseok smiles to himself and replies in absolute determination. “I will.”

“That’s nice, boy.” The man sighs with bliss. “You got something to look forward to. I’m not gonna lie, I’m envious. You got a nice and long life ahead of you with the person you love.”

“Yeah.” Hoseok never ceases his grin. “I’m lucky. She’s the most beautiful girl and I love her. I promised her I would come back soon.”

“Don’t let her wait for too long then.”

As the team make it farther into the mining tunnels, deeper underground into the rubble, there’s suddenly a loud shout over them. They turn around in shock and Hoseok feels a tugging motion within his chest, as if he can sense what’s about to happen next. This isn’t like any other day.

He won’t return to his meager abode feeling exhausted to his core, he won’t be able to take out his paper and his pen, carefully write you a letter. Hoseok won’t be able to tell you about the trip he has planned to visit you next month. The ring that’s hidden within his drawers will never be seen by the light of day.

He already knows. Time slows down and he feels like his body is frozen solid, rigid and unable to move. The rock trembles underneath his feet, the walls caving inwards. Specks plunge downwards in dust, rocks that clank against his helmet. People are screaming, shouting and scrambling while pushing each other, running in the direction they came from. They shout for mercy, for help. Some murmur prayers under their breaths, others claw at the rubble with their fingernails.

It’s futile.

Hoseok is helpless as the opening to the tunnel collapses. It’s closed off. No one is able to pass through no matter how many times their blades are swung against the rocks.

“We’ve been buried alive!” A man plops down to the ground, the oil lantern flickering a flame by his side, casting silhouettes on the black walls. “What do we do?”

“What can we do?” Someone else sobs, their body slowly slumping downwards. “We have to wait for help.”

Another cries, “And how long will that take?!”

“Who knows. Maybe in a few hours...a few days...soon.” The older man scans each of their dirtied faces. “Let’s just hope that our supplies last.”

One day passes. And another. Another and another. Two turns into three which morph to six.

Those numbers then turn to tens until they’ve lost count. The marks on the walls are too much to make out and tally.

The food supplies have vanished, bars and little snacks fed barely anyone on the first few days. The lamps have burnt out long ago, the lights on top of their helmets no longer providing luminescence, dimming down like their hope. And now they were out of water, mouths dried and throats cracked.

A few people have already died and a handful of others have given up, allowing their silver blades to take them out of their misery.

Hoseok would be lying if he said he didn’t think about it. His tongue cannot move, his lungs have wilted to let out relentless dry coughs that twist his throat. He can’t speak or utter a single word. With his undying thirst for water, the way starvation is eating at his organs and skin, the rocks sinking into his flesh, he’s thought about ending his suffering. But Hoseok fights.

He fights with the withering strength he has left.

In the plunging darkness, an empty void that’s endless, where he is unable to make out where anything is and he wonders if he’s already dead - Hoseok thinks of you. He remembers your fleeting goodbye and a promise of return. He recalls his plans and your protests, how he was going to go far away, come back as a better man and whisk you away from the countryside, finally marry you and finally make you his. He remembers how difficult it was for you to give in, to let him go. He remembers.

“Y/N….”

Hoseok is the last one alive.

He is the last one who fights to stay alive, lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling of rocks in complete darkness. But it’s still not enough. There’s not enough time. He doesn’t have enough strength.

As Hoseok dies, he sees you. He recalls the memory of the empty shrine in front of the forest, a certain individual who constantly sweeps the courtyard, the one who looks beautiful and acts a little intimidating. The lonely girl who often puts up a front, stacks brinks around her heart in order for others not to hurt her. He remembers you and your tiny pout, the smile that graces your lips when he gives in like he always does.

And with Hoseok’s dying breath, he desperately yearns that he could see you one more time.

If he could, he would fulfill his last regret, the sole thing he would want to do one final time. His dying wish being to tell you that….

He loves you.

[Epilogue]

“You’re back?” You laugh, skimming your eyes over the black cloaked entity. The strands of his blonde hair still poke through his hood and his rounded cheeks make you wonder how anyone could ever find him intimidating. His long introduction about being a bridge of two worlds and his booming voice never once scared you. “You haven’t aged a single day.”

The tall figure that loomed over you plops onto the brown porch. He smiles, dimples marking each side of his cheeks. “I don’t age.”

You hum, looking past the empty courtyard, imagining what it would be like if you saw a figure run up the top of the staircase. He would wave his arm, split his lips in his wide grin and gaze at you with the familiar look that told you he cherished you with all his heart.

But the memories have become old, though never fleeting. It feels like you’re being taken back decades upon decades, the time where you sat in the exact same place, accompanied by the same people.

“Do I look old, Namjoon?”

The Reaper shakes his head. “You look wise.”

You wonder if he’s trying to spare your feelings. You’ve become wrinkled and slow, movements that lag behind your mind. You never thought you’d one day use the same cane your grandmother once used. Despite no longer recognizing the person in the mirror and not recognizing the croaking voice that leaves your coarse lips, you’ve had the privilege to become an old lady. You’ve aged, lived a long life, something that many others couldn’t have.

“There’s something that I’ve always wanted to ask…” Namjoon speaks up after sitting beside you for a while, having soaked in the scenery that he hasn’t seen in awhile. You look over at him, motioning him to go on. “Did you ever regret not telling him?”

You make a sound of acknowledgment, having already guessed his question. It’s something that you’ve contemplated yourself for so many days and months, for the years that came.

“There were so many days where I wished I could see him. I wanted to finally use my eyes for what they could do, use my abilities that I was born with. But when he appeared, I realized I didn’t want to see him.” You sigh, reminiscing on the time that transpired too quick for you to become aware of. Those moments seemed like it was yesterday, the memories still fresh in your consciousness.

“It hurt. It hurt so much. I won’t lie. I hoped he would remember on his own but…” You shake your head. “No. I thought about it and I realized...what good would come out of telling him? He would still need to go and I would have to stay. Telling him would’ve made things more painful.”

A small smile surfaces on your lips, a soft and sweet one, mimicking the gentleness of the man you still love even after all these decades. “But it didn’t matter in the end. He still loved me again even without all those memories.”

There are four types of regret in this world, four that often hold spirits captive and in grief, in anguish and in heartache, to become angry and filled with questions of ‘why’. You’ve seen it with your own eyes, felt it with your own soul...

“In this modest life that I’ve lived, I can’t say I’ve regretted anything, Namjoon.” You smile at him, looping your arm through his. He guides you upwards, though you didn't need any help to begin with. Your body feels light, the aches in your bones have vanished. You feel agile. You feel free. Perhaps your feet aren’t even touching the ground anymore. “I think that’s the greatest blessing in my life.”

The door to the other side opens, a split in the air that’s filled with light. The darkness no longer exists. “Are you ready?”

You stand straight beside Namjoon, looking forward and nodding firmly. “I’m ready.”

The two of you look forward to seeing Hoseok again.

[derrickperegrine]

@snakepitnet halloween challenge: friday the thirteenth

any fool can have bad luck; the art consists in knowing how to exploit it.

     -- frank wedekind

this is late but why should i care. for my quidditch love @puddifoot

(click ‘keep reading’)

‘Oh fuck,’ Cassius interjected inelegantly; he spilled his goblet of pumpkin juice over the table as he reached for the scrambled eggs, and it only narrowly missed the dark green wool of his Quidditch uniform.

‘Hey, what’s up, butterfingers,’ Peregrine smirked as he walked past, clipping Cassius on the back of his head, albeit in a friendly fashion. Cassius glared at him as he hastily smoothed down his hair. Peregrine’s own black hair was standing up and sticking out from every angle -- a little more unkempt than usual.

‘What is it, Derrick, the game don’t matter to you enough to clean up a little?’ Lucian commented, himself as pristine as ever, his robes sharply pressed and not a single strand of his blonde hair outside of its carefully choreographed nonchalance.

Peregrine shrugged as he took a seat and picked up a slice of toast. ‘It’s just a game, Luce; and against Gryffindor, no less,’ Peregrine pointed towards the Gryffindor table, rowdy and prematurely celebratory after some particularly rousing speech by Wood. ‘Do they look like they give a shit about how they’re looking? See, their uniforms are all crumpled as if they haven’t ever been folded after a vigorous scourgify.’

Lucian passed his eyes over Peregrine’s robes, unimpressed. ‘It’s not like yours are much better anyway,’ he pointed out.

Hastily, Peregrine spread strawberry jam over his toast, and held it up to his mouth. ‘Just let it go, won’t you. You’re acting like my mum again. And besides, it’s not like we’re going to the Quidditch pitch to look for a date,’ he lowered his voice and muttered, ‘Unless your name is Flint.’

Marcus’ head snapped up from his sunny eggs. ‘Did someone say my name?’ he demanded crossly, looking at Peregrine’s direction. Lucian shot Peregrine a look that read, You should have known better, but before he could respond someone bumped into his shoulder, causing Peregrine to drop his toast and jam, which smeared across his left shin-guard and boot before hitting the stone floor. Lucian shot a scourgify at them, and Peregrine flinched as if the cleaning spell physically ruffled him. Lucian sneered in triumph.

In a huff that might have seemed dramatic and excessive to a boy of a different temperament and bearing, Oliver Wood furiously strode past the Slytherin table, his collision with poor Peregrine not slowing his raging course towards Marcus.

‘Flint, what is the meaning of this!’ Wood near-shouted, his face flushed with anger and his bushy eyebrows almost vertical in their inclination. In his hands he held a red notebook marked ‘Quidditch Training’ in his own handwriting, completely warped and blotchy from prolonged exposure to water. Marcus was glaring daggers at Wood, and although the Slytherins knew that their captain would never do such a thing, Marcus was not helping his own case very well.

‘It weren’t me,’ Marcus said evenly, simply, as he forked eggs into his mouth. He was still glaring at Wood, who was still glaring at him, because it seemed that any moment the two of them were in sight of one another, that’s what they did. Sometimes the Slytherins wished that that was all they did, and that they did not have to listen to Marcus’ long rants and rambles about nearly everything Oliver Wood did. Sometimes it felt like the level of his unnecessary commentary rivaled that of Lee Jordan.

Wood scoffed. ‘As if one could take the word of a snake,’ he sneered through his anger. Peregrine wondered if Wood’s hair could catch on fire, seeing how furious he was. Which seemed out of proportion even for Wood -- after all, it was just a notebook, and they were all teenagers, for Merlin’s sake, not professional Quidditch players; how top secrets could those plans be, anyway? Though, Flint and Wood were always known to overreact around one another, the fucking idiots.

Cassius heard sniggering and craned his neck to look around. His attention honed in on the Ravenclaw table; their Quidditch team was trying hard to hide their ill-meaning mirth as they watched the newest confrontation between Flint and Wood. Cassius suddenly remembered that just two weeks ago, Ravenclaw suffered an embarrassing defeat at the hands of Gryffindor; however that was to be expected, as although Cassius was loath to admit it, Wood was thrice the Quidditch captain that Davies was. Whenever Davies was out chasing after skirts, Wood was drilling his team to the ground with practice. He was only narrowly worse than Marcus as a captain, of course.

Tugging on Graham’s sleeve, Cassius redirected Graham’s attention away from his roasted potatoes to the Ravenclaw table. Graham nodded and turned to Peregrine, motioning for him to get the attention of Wood. Already in a bad mood for the loss of his toast, Peregrine glared at Graham and Cassius as he yanked at Wood’s sleeve roughly.

‘What is it!’ Wood yelled as he turned around to face Peregrine, who was looking back at him placidly, his eyebrows flat and unimpressed, although annoyance still burned within his chest for that unexpected collision.

Peregrine pointed at Graham. ‘Montague has something to tell you. Monty, tell him.’

Graham rolled his eyes and hissed at Wood. ‘Can’t you maybe look around first before pinning everything on us?’ he rolled his hazel eyes in the direction of the Ravenclaw table, and Wood’s eyes snapped towards them, finally seeing the Ravenclaw team. His stuck-out ears reddened even more in embarrassment.

Wood turned back towards Flint, crimson robes flapping behind him. It was an eyesore, Lucian decided, for he was not much a fan of the colour red. It often made someone look too overworked and exhausting, since it turned people’s complexions too ruddy and all that.

‘This is not the end of this,’ Wood assured Flint, vaguely but firmly.

Marcus glared back. ‘Don’t come for me every time something inconvenient happens to you,’ he smirked. ‘If you have anything against me, don’t hide it behind a false accusation against me; come at me directly and we’ll. Talk,’ he suggested mildly as he cracked his knuckles. Demonstratively.

‘I’ll see you on the pitch,’ Wood said with an air of finality, as he narrowed his eyes at Marcus. Marcus narrowed his eyes back, and the rest of the Slytherin team watched boredly as the two of them kept glaring at one another until Wood had disappeared back to the Gryffindor table.

Marcus picked up his goblet of water, raising it in the air. ‘We’re going to crush them today,’ he predicted, although it sounded much more like an order.

Miles looked at Marcus amusedly. ‘What’s this, time for a speech?’

Marcus scowled. ‘No, we don’t have time to cloud ourselves with useless optimism like a speech,’ he decided. He put his goblet to his lips and chugged. Emptying the goblet, he slammed it down on the table and turned around. ‘Lads, let’s roll.’

There was a shuffling noise as the Slytherin finished the last of their breakfast as quickly as they could, and hastily stood up to walk towards the pitch. Marcus marched towards the exit, and the Slytherin team began to fall into formation -- the other Chasers by Marcus’ side, and behind them Terence and Miles, and Lucian after … leaving Peregrine last, just as he was last to arrive at breakfast. He shoved some toast into his mouth, stood up and took a step --

-- And promptly stepped on the first slice of toast he dropped; slipped, and fell flat on his face.

The entire Great Hall roared with laughter, and Peregrine could hear Lucian and Cassius shouting in alarm, and their footfalls thundering in his ears.

‘Perry! You alright?’ Lucian asked as he helped Peregrine up.

Grimacing, Peregrine righted himself and dusted off his uniform. The mean laughter of the other Houses rang in his ears, and much to his own chagrin he felt embarrassed. ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ he replied, although he still ached from falling hard against Hogwarts’ stone flooring.

‘Come on, let’s go,’ Cassius said, throwing an arm around Peregrine’s shoulders. The three of them shuffled out of the Great Hall, but before they walked out, Peregrine turned around and flipped off the Hall. They only laughed louder.

As Professor Hooch had them shake hands with the Gryffindors, Miles couldn't help but feel a little off. He would call it anxious, although it wasn't quite so severe. It was more of a niggling premonition that something was about to go wrong … he passed his eyes slowly down the Gryffindor lineup -- and extra slowly over the Weasley twins -- but could not find anything in their expressions. Some of them looked grim and nervous as usual, but others were still looking at Peregrine, snickering. He shook hands with Wood, and the two teams sauntered over to their own halves of the pitch.

Marcus kicked off first, quickly followed by Wood, who never liked being far behind. As soon as the ‘pleasantries’ were done, any fooling around immediately ceased; even the Gryffindor jesters, the Weasley twins, put on a serious expression --

‘Whoo! Haha,’ Peregrine laughed as he somersaulted through the air, his previous mishap seemingly all but gone in his mind. The October air was characteristically crisp and dry; it was the best weather for flying. Peregrine felt elation trickle through his veins, and he felt light with thrill.

‘Having a good time?’ smirked Terence as he zoomed past on his broom, his hair floating in a cloud behind him.

‘Oh, it’s only going to get better,’ Peregrine replied, giving his bat a few experimental swings, grinning. Lucian soared by and high-fived both Peregrine and Terence, before settling in his usual spot, by the righthand-side of Miles.

‘Oi! It’s no time for chit chat, the match is about to begin,’ Marcus turned back and scowled at his teammates. Peregrine grinned wider and flipped him off, but Marcus didn’t see him; his attention was turned towards Madam Hooch, who just blew the whistle and let out all the balls.

As soon as the Snitch was released from the chest, Terence zipped away from Peregrine’s sight, his eyes struggling to spot the elusive glimmer of gold across the wide pitch. Harry Potter darted over, closely tailing Terence.

Lucian managed to wrest one of the Bludgers from the Gryffindors, and batted it towards Peregrine. With a satisfying smack, Peregrine passed it back to Lucian, and the two of them continued to volley the Bludger between them, getting used to the weight and strain of the ball again.

Flying in formation with Marcus in the lead, the three Slytherin Chasers dove after the Quaffle, with the Gryffindors approaching it from the other side; Miles watched them closely, knowing that he should never keep his eye off the Quaffle, should it come hurtling towards his hoops. The Gryffindor girls were a hair closer to the falling Quaffle than the Slytherins, and Miles felt a bead of sweat break out against his forehead -- but at this time Cassius kicked the ball lower, so that it was falling faster, and Marcus dove straight under like some swooping raptor, and it came to rest against the small of his back. Before the Gryffindors could make a grab for it, Adrian kicked it up from Marcus’ back, into the Cassius’ waiting hands. Immediately Cassius zoomed towards the Gryffindor hoops, and not missing a beat, Marcus and Adrian flanked him.

Seeing that the Slytherin hoops were not in immediate danger, Peregrine and Lucian also headed towards the Gryffindor side of the pitch -- they were going to have to cover their three Chasers as they attempt to score a goal. As they continued to pass their Bludger between them, Peregrine and Lucian also kept an eye on the Bludger currently in possession of the Weasley twins.

It wasn’t long before one of the twins smacked their Bludger towards Cassius, who was slightly ahead of the rest of the Slytherin company; Marcus boosted forward to cover Cassius, and Peregrine moved in tandem with Marcus, bat raised at the ready.

The large, heavy ball whizzed towards the Slytherins, and Peregrine threw out his arms, catching the Bludger right in the sweet spot of his bat with a satisfying crack, and it went flying off again -- except that the crack was not actually a wonderful sound at all, since it appeared that the force of the impact had actually split the wood of Peregrine’s bat, and the bat broke in half in his hands, the top falling below him to the pitch.

Peregrine looked at his broken bat in befuddled annoyance. ‘What the actual fuck,’ he muttered, dropping the other half to the ground, and sliding his wand out of his sleeve. ‘Accio bat!’ he said under his breath.

There was a giggling sound and he furrowed his brows. Now, it weren’t his fault if his bat happened to break; bats break all the time. They’re expendable tools, and if you played as roughly as Slytherin you go through them quite quickly. However, that had been a relatively new bat, and Gryffindor Beaters had never been great sluggers -- they had to choose between being accurate or being powerful; if they wanted to hit hard then their aim would be off; if they wanted to be precise, then their force would be too weak. This was an aimed attack, and it felt like nothing to Peregrine as he batted it away. So why would his bat break?

The giggling grew closer, for some reason, and Peregrine felt unease tickle up his neck like a caterpillar. Across from him, Cassius’ eyes widened. ‘Look out!’

The Slytherins managed to just dodged in time as a large swarm of bats soared over their heads, screeching and laughing, despite being in broad daylight. ‘What the actual fuck,’ Peregrine repeated himself.

Madam Hooch’s sonorused voice echoed across the pitch. ‘SHOO!’ And screaming, the bats tore off the pitch. Terence flew by, looking pissed.

‘I was so close,’ he said, ‘The gold was so easy to spot in the black. Goddammit, Hooch,’ and he zapped away from Peregrine, Cassius, and Marcus.

‘Stupid,’ Peregrine muttered to himself as he cast another accio. ‘Accio Quidditch bat!’ and a brand new, gleamingly polished ebony bat flew into Peregrine’s hands. He weighed and inspected the bat carefully; it really wasn’t a good idea to begin a match with a new bat, whose unique weight and feel he needed to get used to. Alas, there wasn’t much of a choice.

‘Quit fooling around, snakes,’ Alicia Spinnet laugh-snarled. ‘Some of us here are trying to play a game!’

Angelina Johnson scoffed. ‘They weren’t fooling around. Derrick is really dumb enough summon bats instead of a Beater’s bat.’

Before Peregrine could shoot something cruel back, Marcus yelled, ‘Oi!’ Peregrine turned to see him furious, fire in his black eyes. No one insulted his team and got away with it. He looked like he was about to throw down, but of course, punching to girls in the air was a sure way to get a suspension for the rest of the game. He bit back his anger, but venom dripped off his teeth as he seethed, ‘Watch who you’re talking about. Everyone makes mistakes. Or have you forgotten that time you burnt the bottom of your cauldron because you used Chili Extract instead of Chilly Extract?’

Angelina glared back at him. A taste of your own medicine isn’t that fun now, is it? Cassius took this chance to zoom up to the hoops and shoot; Oliver Wood, who had said nothing since the game started -- he was always silently focused on the game -- made a move to catch it, but suddenly Adrian Pucey appeared from above, and used his foot to kick the Quaffle higher, so that it soared above Wood’s head, straight into the hoop.

‘Slytherin scores ten points! With sly and underhanded teamwork, as usual --’ Lee Jordan began spouting his nonsense again. Whenever it was Gryffindor who scored, he’d say something about their astonishing teamwork and probable mind-reading abilities, but whenever it was Slytherin, that’s impossible, they must have been playing some mean trick because Slytherin could never score against Gryffindor.

Katie Bell was waiting under the hoops, in usual Gryffindor formation, so she caught the Quaffle, and the Gryffindor Chasers coalesced around her and began making their way towards the Slytherin hoops. Miles Bletchley trained his eyes onto the Gryffindors -- now that Slytherin was in the lead, he wasn’t going to let it fall from that position.

Cassius whistled lowly as he flew by, and high-fived Adrian. The two of them flew towards the Slytherin half of the field, flanking the Gryffindors and slowly closing in on them. They would try to wrest the Quaffle from them before it even got to Miles.

It felt good to be in the lead, it was the Gryffindors who were dumb, after all; they let themselves be distracted by a crowd of bats and insulting Peregrine, and didn’t see Adrian Pucey, coming from above. Victory felt good; Peregrine found a wild laugh thrumming within his chest, but of course he couldn’t let it out now; Marcus would yell at him for not being serious about the game. So he only grinned, a predator’s sneer -- it would have been handsome otherwise, but on the pitch it was terrifying, hungry, and something you didn’t want to look at for too long.

The Slytherin Beaters moved forward to sandwich the Gryffindor Chasers as well -- Peregrine hovered above them like some bird of prey, whereas Lucian flew under them, a crocodile ready to strike anytime. ‘Per!’ Lucian called as he hit the Bludger upwards, and it buzzed close to Alicia Spinnet, who leaned towards her teammates to avoid it. Peregrine caught it on his bat, and sent it searing across the air in the other direction, so that Angelina Johnson in turn leaned the other way to avoid it, and poor Katie Bell, who was flying between Johnson and Spinnet, dropped the Quaffle in the disturbance, and the swift Slytherin Chaser, Adrian Pucey, caught the Quaffle, and minnow-like in his movements, made his way towards the Gryffindor hoops again.

Marcus, who had been trailing behind so he could see everything in front of him, turned back and whirled around Adrian, covering him as they made their way towards the hoops. Wood turned towards Adrian, who was in possession of the Quaffle and moving towards the central hoop, but at the last moment Adrian passed the Quaffle to Marcus, who made to shoot the hoop on Wood’s right.

However, something buzzed straight across Marcus, and he let go of the Quaffle with a yelp. Terence and Potter then barreled over in front of Marcus -- it was the Snitch. The Gryffindor Chasers saw this chance and Angelina Johnson picked up the Quaffle and the Gryffindors were once again in possession.

‘Fuck off!’ Peregrine cursed, moving in front of Miles. The Weasley Beaters soared over to Peregrine, lobbing their Bludger at him, hoping to knock him out of the way so Miles would have no cover. Not one to flinch, Peregrine engaged the Bludger with his own bat, sending it buzzing away from him and Miles -- however the Bludger was too close to him and too fast, and he didn’t make a good hit. The trajectory of the Bludger was out of his control, and it glanced off his bat towards Cassius; the black ball whizzed by the tail of his broom, breaking several of the twigs at the end of it -- but worse, knocking Cassius off his broom with the force.

‘Fuck,’ Peregrine tossed his bat to Adrian -- who shouted, ‘What the fuck am I supposed to do with a bat!’ and flattened himself against his broom, diving downwards and reaching for Cassius. Fortunately his Comet was true to its name, and it caught up in no time; however the drag of Cassius’ weight hanging from his arm made Peregrine wince -- the rest of the game wouldn’t be fun. As soon as Cassius caught his breath, he cast an accio for his broom, and performed a quick reparo.

‘Derrick, you don’t have to hit each Bludger, you know,’ Marcus barked above them, ‘You gotta learn to let some balls go.’

Peregrine gritted his teeth and flashed Marcus a confirmatory thumbs-up. ‘Gotcha, captain.’ Annoyance burned within his chest -- it just wasn’t his game today. Which was strange; not that he was more arrogant than your average teenage Quidditch player, but Peregrine Derrick never had an off-game. He always knew what the odds were, and how to turn them in his favour. What was going on today?

Although one of the Slytherin Chasers suffered a hit, Adrian took this chance to toss Peregrine’s bat back to him and snatch the Quaffle back from the distracted Gryffindors. At a break-neck speed, he flew over to the Gryffindor side of the pitch, and, biding his timing, shot the Quaffle as Potter and Terence passed between him and Wood; it was a tricky shot as he was not yet close enough, but he wouldn’t get this cover from wood again. The Quaffle just barely made it in, scraping by the central hoop at a slanted angle, and brushing against the rim of the hoop on both entrance and exit.

‘Another 10 points to Slytherin,’ they all heard Lee Jordan’s disappointed voice, and tuned out the rest.

‘Good shot,’ Lucian said, clapping Adrian on the back as they passed one another.

Now the cool autumn air started feeling aching and tiring; Miles rubbed his ears; they had gone numb from the merciless winds at the top of the Quidditch pitch. He quietly hoped that the game would be over soon, as it was looking to get even colder throughout the day -- however, it really wasn’t their game today, and he’d expect a stern lecture from Marcus in the locker room.

Alicia Spinnet caught the Quaffle after Marcus tried to scuffle with her to get it back -- surprisingly not earning a single whistle during the entire ordeal, although they all suspected that perhaps Marcus played fairly on accident; both Bludgers were in the Weasleys’ possession, and the Slytherin Beaters had a difficult time fending them off completely, between the too-close angles and Peregrine’s injured arm. Marcus had to dodge some of them himself, and as a result had to give up his resolve to possess the Quaffle.

Since both Bludgers were in Weasley possession -- they had also taken advantage of the earlier commotion of Cassius falling off his broom -- this made defending the Gryffindor’s attack extremely difficult. As the Slytherins were not in possession of the Quaffle, the Weasleys focused their attack on Terence instead -- which was quite a gamble for them, as they could hit their teammate Potter as well -- and instead of trying to stop the Gryffindors from scoring with the Quaffle, Lucian and Peregrine had to make sure that their Seeker did not get quashed by two Bludgers.

The Slytherin Chasers encircled the Gryffindor Chasers like sharks, flying almost shoulder to shoulder to them, constantly popping out before them or making snatching movements in order to startle them into dropping the Quaffle or passing it to another Gryffindor Chaser -- chances that the Slytherins could use to dive in and possess the Quaffle again. However, the Gryffindor girls were very much known to be unflappable players, and the Slytherins had no such luck.

Miles squared up and loosened up his limbs, ready to defend his hoops. He was the tallest member of the Slytherin team, looming at nearly two metres high, with long limbs that were unexpectedly elegant rather than lanky. He had unusually broad shoulders for his build, but it gave him an advantage on the Quidditch pitch -- more power and momentum in his turns and shifts.

The Gryffindors neared the Slytherin hoops and, resigned to their fate, Adrian and Cassius slunk into the space beneath their hoops, so that they may catch the Quaffle should it go through one of Miles’ hoops.

Spinnet made to score, raising the Quaffle over her head whilst trying to evade Marcus, who still tried to snap at the Quaffle -- after all he was never known to be one to give up on anything, despite what he had just told Derrick not five minutes ago.

Spinnet pushed past Marcus, and shot -- but Marcus, being the taller one out of them, managed to touch the Quaffle in his last attempt to intercept it. However, Bell was right by their side, and as Marcus slapped down the Quaffle she boosted it with her foot again -- muddying its trajectory for Miles to stop.

For a moment it seemed as if Miles couldn’t quite make out the angle in time, and he’d just have to choose to lean a particular way; but at this moment Peregrine and Lucian burst before him, and Lucian’s bat got caught on his broomstick, and dragged him along. As Miles was about to put his hands back down onto his broom, in an attempt to balance himself, his hand ended up catching the Quaffle, and pushing it below the hoops. There was a deafening roar from Slytherin as Adrian Pucey dove to catch it, and the Slytherins were once again in possession.

‘Almost! If the Slytherins hadn’t accidentally reverse-sabotaged themselves,’ Lee Jordan commented, trying to rise above the din of Slytherin cheers.

But now Slytherin was in possession of the Quaffle, the Weasley Beaters turned their attention back on Marcus, Adrian, and Cassius. Lucian and Peregrine flew before the Weasleys, shadowing their positions. Lucian and Peregrine managed to evenly match the Weasleys’ volleys, and for a moment it seemed less like the Weasleys were trying to take out scoring members of the Slytherin team and more like they were just playing an intense game of Bludger-tennis with the Slytherin Beaters -- until Lee Jordan’s blasted voice cut through the air.

‘And Harry’s spotted the Snitch! Terence Higgs follows close by ...’

And all attention whipped to the two Seekers darting through the pitch, shoulder to shoulder; the Weasleys took their Bludgers and zipped towards the Seekers again -- they could afford to let Adrian score 10 points with a Quaffle, but they could not let Terence score, for it would end the game and Slytherin would win.

Harry was slightly smaller than Terence and had the advantage of a faster broom. He zipped through the Weasleys’ Bludgers easily, which weren’t meant for him anyway. Meanwhile, Peregrine and Lucian could only beat so many off of Terence, as they didn’t want to bump into Terence and cause him to lose sight of the Snitch, and Peregrine was injured besides; so Terence had to dodge the odd Bludger or two, falling behind the Gryffindor Seeker as he did so.

Marcus grit his teeth as he watched this unfold. Of course he couldn’t blame any of them -- most of the blunders in today’s game were just bad luck; his team still played alright, and they were, thankfully, in the lead anyway. However, this would decide the fate of the game ...

Wood floated right above him, glaring down as Marcus flew up to the Gryffindor hoops. Goddammit, why did he always treat a game with Marcus as some sort of personal battle? Like they were mortal enemies and every game was a final showdown between them? Marcus was beyond childrens’ games like this, he was tired of always fighting Wood -- did it always have to be that way? Well, after this game he won’t have to see Wood on the pitch for the rest of the year --

Adrian tossed the Quaffle towards Marcus, who caught it and, somersaulting on this broom through the air, hoped to increase its velocity -- and shot it at Wood. It was a new technique that they had been working on; and thank goodness Marcus was just acrobatic enough to make it. It flew forwards through the air, and Wood dove to catch it -- only to catch it with his face.

There was an unmistakeable crack and suddenly half of Wood’s face was red. Oh great. They’ve broken his nose.

‘Mister Wood! Please come down for treatment!’ Madam Hooch yelled below them.

‘Unnecessary!’ Wood declared, and pulled out his wand. He muttered a heavy episkey through the blood in his nose, and the cartilage fused back together.

‘You know you’re not supposed to do that! Detention, Mister Wood!’ There were strict rules about injured students healing themselves on the pitch -- mostly, it was dangerous to perform spells like that in midair, when the body is less balanced and, of course, ungrounded.

Wood sneered and it was a terrible but enthralling sight. ‘Worth it.’ If Marcus were less of an insane Quidditch player, he would have looked at Wood in some version of admiration.

But that wasn’t Marcus.

Whilst Wood was fixing his nose, Marcus picked up the Quaffle again, and as soon as Wood was done and looked up, Marcus threw the Quaffle through the hoop to his right.

There was a war between the cheers and the boos in the audience stands as Lee Jordan struggled to announce that Slytherin was once again in the lead, with thirty points.

Marcus let the disgruntled Gryffindor Chasers have the Quaffle. He needed to watch his Seeker. Now Terence was a broom’s length behind Harry, who was weaving through the pitch after the Snitch. Despite the fact that he was a Gryffindor, and an insufferably proud one to boot, Potter was a remarkable Seeker. Especially when one considered how difficult it must be to see through those glasses, and that hair. Really, that hair.

He passed the two Seekers as the Slytherin Chasers tailed after the Gryffindor Chasers, seeking to help defend Miles from the Gryffindor’s forward attack. They quickly outstripped the Gryffindors and lined up in a defensive formation in front of Miles. But still they looped around, increasing their coverage in the air.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ Terence muttered to himself as he urged on his broom, a relatively modest Nimbus 1700 to Potter’s Firebolt. It almost seemed unfair that rich kids were allowed to compete in Quidditch with superior brooms -- they should all be issued a uniform broom to make it more fair, Terence thought to himself as he struggled to catch up.

Sweat dripped off of Lucian’s brow as he hit another Bludger away from Terence. His golden hair was no longer neat; it was plastered to his head in some parts, and sticking up in the air in others. But at least it wasn’t the total disaster perched at the top of Peregrine’s head. Out of the team, only Marcus looked unruffled, with his shaven head. They all looked a mess. The Gryffindors usually looked a mess anyway, so there wasn’t any significant change to them. Despite the Slytherin’s higher score -- to Gryffindor’s none -- it felt like they were losing their touch, getting tired, and losing the game.

Terence tried to flatten himself against his broom even more, although it was difficult, as he was already leaning pretty closely against it. ‘Come on, come on,’ he whispered, hearing the wind and Bludgers whizz by his ears. Slowly, he was catching up to Potter, but he wasn’t sure if he’d make it -- even though the Snitch was still flitting around quite far ahead.

Then the sound of Bludgers disappeared, and it was just the harsh autumn wind tearing at his poor ears. Why? The Weasleys flew in an arc before them, and suddenly Potter lifted up; and Peregrine was yelling something suddenly, and the Weasleys sent a Bludger whirring towards Terence --

He stopped on his tracks, sitting up suddenly and feeling his eyes black out from the abrupt change in position -- all the blood was draining out of his brain -- and he heard a sharp crack as a bat hit the Bludger. Quickly, Terence shook his head, and saw that it was Lucian who made the save -- and in that moment he saw a glimmer of gold.

Before it could fly away again, Terence kicked himself from his broom, and dove forward to catch the Snitch in his hands. It was smooth and cold, burning against his bare fingers, and its wildly flapping wings matched the thrumming pace of his own heart; and then he fell.

‘Goddammit, not again,’ Peregrine swore, and dove. He managed to grab Terence by the scruff, and with great difficulty -- but no hurry, as the golden Snitch in Terence’s hand signified that the game was already won -- lifted Terence to his own broom.

‘Thanks Per,’ Terence said as he hauled himself back onto his Nimbus.

Peregrine grimaced and windmilled his arm. ‘You owe me,’ he grumbled, but not ill-naturedly. Of course, how could he be? A sea of green was roiling in a corner of the Quidditch pitch, screaming at them, whilst Lee Jordan, as quietly has he could possibly manage, declared that Slytherin had caught the Snitch, and the game was over, with one-hundred and eighty points to Slytherin, and none to Gryffindor.

Marcus was grinning so widely that it looked eerie. Marcus Flint, smiling? A rare and terrible sight, only to be witnessed at a victorious Quidditch game. Clapping Terence on the back, they all flew down to the bottom of the pitch. The Gryffindors looked angrily at the Slytherins and themselves -- despite the Slytherins’ bad luck, nothing the Gryffindors did ended up working, and their direct Bludger attack on Terence, in fact, accidentally brought the Snitch closer to him, since it was caught against the Bludger as it sped forward.

Cassius and Adrian were roaring and laughing, trying to climb onto Miles’ back to ruffle his black hair. Lucian was impatiently herding them into the locker room, hoping to get there before the Gryffindor fans started pelting them with half-chewed, nastily-flavoured Bertie Botts; but his face was radiant with the joy of triumph, golden and soft, but forceful.

Peregrine had already torn off his robes and his jersey, and was waving them above his head and hooting like a madman. Whatever arm pain he was complaining about seemed to be there no longer. His stiff dark hair was sticking straight up, he was laughing so hard that there were dimples in his smile, despite his hollow cheeks.

‘Good game, boys!’ Graham yelled as the reserve team came up to greet them, and all laughing and cheering and hooting, the Slytherins retreated to the locker room.

‘Couldn’t believe that luck,’ Lucian remarked, leaning lazily against Peregrine and Miles.

Miles laughed. ‘I can’t even figure out if it was good or bad luck.’

Peregrine wrinkled his nose. ‘Either way, I didn’t like it. Too many unpredictabilities.’ He sighed. ‘Give me a straightforward game next time ...’

Terence slapped Peregrine on the shoulder. ‘You know, Perry, they’re going to call you Batty Derrick for months now ...’

‘Oh, please no,’ Peregrine groaned, and all the other boys laughed in sympathy.

Indeed it seemed to Marcus that today’s game was strangely not in their favour. All the mistakes and faults had been at their cost, and even the victory was won on a mistake, and not on their team’s true ability. Why had it been so?

As he walked to the showers, the daily calendar hanging on the wall caught his eye. In neat, block letters, it read: FRIDAY, and beneath that, OCT 13.

Marcus smiled to himself a little. He was never a superstitious person, nor did he believe in things like this; but it was a little odd, and a little amusing. If bad luck favoured anyone, why shouldn’t it be the down and dirty, scheming and sly Slytherins? Two negatives multiplied makes a positive ...

He rubbed his hand over his smooth head, and wondered what the Gryffindors were saying. Slytherin, winning? Only by sheer luck, of course ...

[coffeeandmoonthoughts]

billy

I had to have been about 18 or 19. I know I wasn't 21 yet, and a few months prior I had gotten out of a relationship. He took me to a Red Lobster for our first date and hit on the waitress. I know that sounds like an over told cliché but, that literally happened. I laughed it off, still trying to figure him (and myself) out. He was extra lively that night and I didn't realize until later that he was stark drunk. Like, really drunk. And on other substances as well. I dated him anyways. He was tall and built and had a motorcycle. He hit on me a lot at work and I always fought off his advances, thinking he was a player and I just didn’t have time and energy for that. But, I played basketball with him and the guys at the park. I wasn't good, but they always invited me. One summer day my friend Hunter, invited me to the river with him and Billy. I brought a girl friend and we spent the day out there swimming. My friend told me it was clear both of the guys were into me. Hunter crossed a line, right in front of Billy, when he dunked me under and clearly copped a feel. I was annoyed with it. Here I was, caught in the middle of this. I decided I was going to go for one of them since I didn't have anything better to do and it had been a minute since my last breakup. I knew they were both a little on the wild side and I weighed my options before choosing Billy. I didn't particularly want to be tied down by anyone, but I wanted to try something anyways. That’s how I ended up on that date. 

I knew Billy’s stepdad personally. He was a sheriff that was contracted to my workplace and ran security. He talked to me every single night for hours while I worked. I had heard stories about Billy’s drug addict mother but he never brought it up to me, I just put two and two together. Soon, I was at Billy’s house every night and they became my adopted family. I was never really public about anything, but I would disappear and that’s where I would go. Wasn't long after that I realized Billy had an extensive drinking and substance abuse problem which I chose to ignore(!!!!!!!). I would go over to his place, hang out upstairs with Billy doing you guess what and when he would get too drunk and pass out, I would be left wide awake and alone. I would wander downstairs to grab a sprite and end up watching tv on the couch with his Dad. His dad also ran security for the school behind their house, so some nights i would take their two large English mastiff’s and run the nightly perimeter check with his Dad. We would check the doors and make sure the whole school was locked up, shoot some hoops and walk back. 

This type of thing went on for a while. I would say I was with Billy for two or maybe three months, tops. I never let Billy get too close to my family, or told many people about anything that went on. You could probably say i used him just as much as he used me. I wasn't big into labels, they intimidated me. Plus, nothing was permanent and neither was I. I killed some time, used the hot tub at his house, and put up with the rug burns on my back from the pool table. It was good when it was good, but when it was bad, it was bad. A lot of times, he didn't know when to stop in many ways and would get completely incoherent, uncontrollable and unreasonable. He was very tall and heavy, and oftentimes, I just couldn’t wrangle him when he was like that. You cant reason with someone who doesn't have the mental capacity to think straight because they are under the effect of the drugs and alcohol. He was unstable all the time. I never knew which Billy I would get and it kept me on edge all the time. One night he picked me up and I could tell as soon as we started driving, he was under the influence. He swerved and his eyes were closing as he drove but he wouldn't pull over and let me drive. I begged him to and started to panic, wondering if I should tumble out at the next stop sign. Reluctantly he eventually let me take over. I ran to the drivers side and had to pull him out but he was so heavy. I climbed into the drivers seat and adjusted the seat and mirrors while he drooled and passed out in the passenger seat.  He drove a big Tahoe and at the time I didn’t even have a car, so I wasn’t used to it. It felt like driving a large bus around and I felt so tiny I had to scoot the seat all the way up. I slowly drove him home and he couldn’t even get into the house and upstairs. That’s when his problem started getting really bad. I worried what other danger he might put me in and not tell me.

One time, I did almost the worst thing you could do to a motocycle. I dropped it. He left me standing there with it while he went inside and when he came out it was lying on the ground with a scratch mark on the side. It was incredibly heavy but he was so pissed off it didn’t matter. We really hadn’t been dating long but he took me back to his hometown to visit his birth father and the rest of his family. I remember thinking how odd it was. We weren’t serious and it felt like I was being paraded in to be judged or something. It’s okay, I was judging his dad and family too.

Of course, we all have our own history and he broke down and told me about his longtime girlfriend before me. She lived with them and was pregnant. Ended up losing the baby far into term. I had a suspicion that it was lost to drug use. But I wasn’t sure. I found a photo of her once, clearly very pregnant. She was shorter than me and blonde and covered in fake tan, I think. We had simularities but we weren’t the same style at all. It seemed to really effect him. I felt sorry for him. I empathized too much. I saw people’s backstories and allowed it to influence me.

We got into a lot of fights. I knew how to pick my battles with him. I would put up with whatever I had to until he was sane enough to think logically. A lot of the time, I just couldn’t get through to him. He was a recluse and didn’t hang out much with people. One time we were invited to one of Hunter’s house parties. I was having fun but Billy was getting more and more tanked into oblivion. He started acting weird with me and yelling at me to go outside so I did. He began to yell at me on the front porch and cause a scene. He told me he knew what was going on. That there was something going on between Hunter and I. He was trashed but trying to get into his Tahoe and drive away. Hunter came out and tried to fix things but he just made it much, much worse. It was like arguing at a brick wall. It didn't get you anywhere. I’m ashamed to say he made me leave the party with him and drove me home drunk. When we got to his place, we continued to argue and I knew there was no resolving it until he was sober (if ever he would be). I don't know what I ever thought would come from this. 

We went to have a game night at a friends house one night. He got drunk and i was afraid he would embarrass me there. Which he did. He went outside for some “air” (he didn't smoke). I walked up behind him while he was sitting on the back porch steps and saw that his phone was open and he was messaging someone. “Not much baby what are you doing”. I questioned him about it and he told me it was his little cousin. This man must think I'm a goddamn fool, I thought. Like, he’s actually saying this and thinking I'll believe it. So i let him think i believed it until could safely cut it off - which was never. Anyways, I eventually got my point across. And then he retaliated. He showed up drunk at my place. Banging on the front door and unfortunately, my mom opened up when I told her not to. My mom had never seen or talked to him before, I kept it that way on purpose. After a couple seconds my mom figured out he was w a s t e d. He was crying and apologizing and humiliating himself. He told my mom he would marry me and got down on one knee. It makes me both sad, and laugh thinking about it now. Sad because i feel bad for him, laugh because of how stupid it was. But it was also one of the most embarrassing moments of my entire life. I never wanted my mom to know I had dated him. He begged me to come back with him and she chased him out with a bloody broom. He drunkenly drove off before she called the cops, but not before I took one look at her and got in the Tahoe with him. I guess, I did it because i was embarrassed and couldn't stand to have the conversation with my mom that would follow what she just saw. I would rather have died. I kept my mom out of most of my life, I wasn't about to have that can of worms opened up now. He didn't make it far. We argued and yelled and he swerved and pulled over in the front yard of his friends house.

His friend was older and dating my sister who was living with him at the time. He was pretty responsible and owned a house. Right after this escapade, I ended up moving in with them and renting a room, I also got a car and my shit together. Except that following me moving in, I ended up having to kick his ass for beating up my sister in a domestic dispute I barged in on when I broke in through a window. I wrote about on my old blog. But that's a whole other story. Anyways, we pulled into the house and I ran out of the car and towards the house before Billy could stop me. His friend came out and physically stopped him before he could follow me. He was a big guy though and out of control at this point, so two people from next door came out and held him back. I was so humiliated that night. I couldn't even go home. I crashed at their house once Billy was under control and escorted out. Billy met me a few days later to talk. He was sober at this time. We sat there in awkward silence with each other until he began to tell me there was no way in hell we could ever be together. He told me we both knew how this was going to end. He said I was too good for him and that he was trash and I would go on to do big things and that he only held me back. Yeah, I cried. Because I couldn't fix him. I was in the midst of trying to figure my own issues out and getting lost in fixing another so I didn't have to deal with my own, but I didn't know it didn't work that way. You cant do that. You can only fix yourself. And I got a feeling his closet of issues wasn't going to be opened and addressed anytime soon. 

His step dad never brought it up to me. I was happy that he never discussed it when he was security at my work. I didn't want to talk about it, but told me I was too good for Billy and he pushed me back into school. Some things never change. I still ran into Billy at work on occasion. But I avoided him. I heard he was even more of an alcoholic and eventually might have gotten a DUI. He would go out to his car and shotgun warm beers to keep his buzz all day. One day he approached me in the cooler at work when i asked him to move a large box for me. He made a comment about my boobs and i could tell he was fucked up. He asked for a hug and i told him no. I told him I was going back to Arizona and he laughed and told me I didn’t have a reason to. I didn't react. I already had the plane ticket booked. He didn’t know me at all, he didn't know anything about me. I just walked away. But later I went to the bathroom and cried. That's where Ben found me. I had just gotten done crying and decided that would never happen again. I would flip my script. I told Ben a little about what happened with Billy, but I filtered it all and left specific things out of the story.