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#perks of being the same size as a twelve year old
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My greatest blessing is being 5foot2 bc that means I can fit into kid size clothing which although sometimes is quite embarrassing that does however mean that a lot of the time if I want to get a footy shirt I’ll just get a Large kids one which works out cheaper and often fits better than a Women’s shirt
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fandomsaligninstories · 8 months
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Year Two: Boy Trouble
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Chapter List WC: 1,507
1st September, 1992
Violet needed this day to end, and she needed it to end ten minutes ago.
From the moment she'd sat down for dinner, she could feel Cedric staring at her. He sat several seats away, with a number of students sat between them, and Violet was thankful for it.
She wasn't as hurt as she had been that afternoon. She was upset, yes, but now she was also mad. She didn't care if he was trying to impress his friends, or was embarrassed about her, he had no right to be so rude. They were Hufflepuffs, for Godrics sake!
So, when she sat down for dinner, she'd made a point of sitting as far from him as she could. Neither Hannah nor Aimee questioned it, but Caroline tried to. Hannah brushed it off with a simple, "boy trouble."
Over the next half hour, as the Great Hall was full of cheers and clapping throughout the Sorting Ceremony, Violet tried her best to focus on the ceremony and the hushed conversations around her. She'd perked up a bit at familiar names, including Ginny Weasley, who was naturally sorted into Gryffindor, and Luna Lovegood, who was sorted to Ravenclaw. She clapped when her house did, even welcoming some of the first-years who came near her to sit with their older siblings.
When dinner was finally served, she tried to make the most of it. As always, the house-elves in the kitchens below made wonderful food. The assortment always varied, from fresh fruits, meats, and breads, even the desserts. She loved everything she ate at Hogwarts, and if it weren't for the amount of walking she did every day, she feared she'd grow several sizes. She wondered if that's why they had classes so far apart in the castle, to encourage exercise?
Halfway through dinner, while half-listening to the conversation between her friends, she looked over to the Great Halls entrance, only to find Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Dumbledore entering, with a sulking Harry and Ron trailing behind them. Her eyes widened slightly, wondering what they possibly could have done on their first night back.
When dinner ended, Violet and her friends were some of the first students to exit when their house did. The Prefects stayed behind to lead the first-years, but the rest of the students went ahead to the dorms.
She knew she was being petty, and even a bit rude, but she pointedly ignored Cedric when he tried to push through the crowd to reach her. Aimee and Hannah tried to get her to speak with him, but she wasn't ready yet. She didn't want to snap at him out of anger or hurt, so she'd wait a day or so, then she'd seek him out. He'd be fine until then.
That night, all four roommates, including Caroline, stayed up well into the evening. They were excited for classes to begin, even though they were stuck taking the same subjects as the previous year, minus flying lessons. The one good thing out of it, Violet argued, was that they at least knew where their classes were and what professors they would have.
Just as she was last year, she was most excited for Herbology and Defense Against the Dark Arts. She was also glad to have several more free periods, now that she didn't have flying, so that she could have time to focus on her homework and studying.
━━━━━━⊱༻ ༺⊰━━━━━━
2nd September, 1992
The next morning, Violet was thankful she had a free period. She woke up feeling out of sorts. She was beyond tired, as she had a fitful night, and she felt guilty for her childish behavior the night before. Granted, she was a child at twelve years old, but still.
Fourth-year Hufflepuffs had classes all morning, so she didn't get the chance to speak with Cedric after breakfast. She didn't get the chance to speak with him at breakfast either, as she had overslept and barely made it down in time to eat before the food vanished. She did, however, have a quick talk with her friends.
"I think you should keep ignoring him. The puppy eyes he has for you? Adorable. Never let him stop." Caroline giggled, her cheeks tinged the lightest shade of pink.
Aimee rolled her eyes, "Merlin, Caroline, if you fancy him, why don't you ask him out?"
"I don't fancy him!" Caroline argued, "I just think he's cute."
"I feel bad. He was probably trying to apologize, and I ignored him. Oh, I'm such a hypocrite!" Violet groaned, pushing away her empty plate to drop her head onto the table. Her next words were muffled through the wood, "I was mad because he ignored me, so I ignored him. Stupid!"
"Well, when you put it like that..." Hannah hummed sympathetically.
"Lunch. I'll find him at lunch and apologize."
"Good plan. I'm going to meet up with Susan, see you in a bit for Transfiguration!" Caroline threw her bag over her shoulder before taking off out of the Great Hall.
Hannah took off next, "I've got to go too, I promised a Ravenclaw second-year I'd help him review a bit before class. Bye!"
Aimee stood up slowly, assessing her friend, "I think I'll head to the library. You coming?"
"Maybe in a while. I want to be alone for a bit, okay?"
"Okay. You know where to find me!"
Violet accepted a hug from her friend before she was alone. Most of the hall had emptied, students getting to their classes or off doing their own thing. Her solitude didn't last long, though.
"Ellis."
She stifled a groan at the hiss of her name. "What do you need, Malfoy?"
She stood from the bench, slinging her bag over her shoulder to leave. His sharp glare stopped her in her tracks.
"Think you hold some sort of power of me, do you?" He kept his voice level, but his tone was dripping in venom, "That stunt on the train? Know this, if you ever try telling me what to do-"
Violet couldn't help it, she laughed. It was a short, quick burst of laughter, but enough to silence the blond in front of her.
"Sorry," She waved a hand through the air, "Sorry, it's just, you think you can hurt me? What'll you do, tell your daddy on me? You want to have it out with Harry, fine, that's none of my business."
She paused briefly as she took in the curious look on his face, "What? The whole school knows you have it out for him. You don't exactly make it secret. You're a cruel, rude person, but you won't do anything to me. You use your spells, and your words, but see, I have the greatest power of all; I. Don't. Care."
She moved towards the exit, pausing when she was stood next to him. He was sneering at her, an expression that was likely going to freeze his features forever if he didn't stop using it.
"You can't bully me into fearing you, Draco, because I know who you are." He flinched back, looking struck, "You're a scared little boy with a bully for a father. You try to bully others to feel stronger than them, but you're still one of us. Just another sad, lonely wizard, trying to find where he fits in."
She continued walking, having to force herself not to look back at him. She felt better after letting off so much steam, but a prickle of guilt nagged at her. It wasn't like she'd lied, everything she said was true. She told herself the guilt was from taking out her frustration on the boy, but she couldn't stand to be bullied.
Once, a few years prior, she had shown up to school with her white stockings torn and dirty, and her skirt and shirt had a few smudges of dirt as well. She had fallen on her way into the school, as she'd been trying to skip and tripped over a hole in the ground.
She'd already been upset when she realized her stockings were ruined, but a boy in her class held no pity for her. He called her names for the rest of the day, saying she was poor and telling other kids she was homeless. Childish bullying, but it upset her enough that she went home crying.
When she explained what happened to her mum, she hadn't expected such a meaningful response. Her mother told her almost exactly what she'd just told Draco Malfoy. It was then, at the young age of nine, that Violet learned that bullies used violence as their armour. Because, more often than not, bullies were just people going through something, but didn't know how to handle it, so they took it out on someone else.
It wasn't right, and it wasn't fair, but she couldn't change someone else's life, she could only show them a touch of kindness and hope they changed for the better. So yes, she felt bad for taking her problems out on the boy, but she reminded herself that she'd do better next time.
━⊱༻ ༺⊰━ TAGLIST: @stellarlune-love
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briamichellewrites · 6 months
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25
Was Joe dating Bria? He was spending time at her house. No, he wasn’t. Brad asked him about going over to her place. He and Mike were hanging out with her and her animals. Mike confirmed that. He didn’t know that he was also there. Yeah, he was. She didn’t seem interested in dating anyone. Her priorities were looking towards the future. He asked about that. What did she want? She wanted to build her dream home in a few years.
It was a farm or ranch by the beach. She wanted to adopt horses and ride them on the beach. He suggested Santa Barbara. She also wanted to have an in-home recording studio, so she could work on music whenever she wanted. When she retired in around twenty years, she wanted to have a full ranch with different animals.
She would have them bring their children for the day to hang out with her and her animals. Maybe she would even let people board their horses at her stable for some extra money. That was just if she had extra space she wasn’t using. He thought it was a lofty goal. She could do it if she truly wanted it. Anything could happen in twenty years. Brad and Joe agreed. It was fun to dream. He was going to help her hire contractors to install a fence with coyote rollers around her property.
She was afraid of letting Buddy out by himself, rightfully so. He was the perfect size to be eaten. How did her cat like him? Woody finally accepted him. It took three days of being separated before he seemed to get the idea he wasn’t going anywhere. According to her, they were best friends who did everything together. They took both of them on a walk.
She had a leash for Woody that connected to a harness. He didn’t like it at first. Until they went outside. That’s when he perked up. They did it mostly to see what he would do. Was Buddy house-trained? No, she had to take him out every few hours to use the bathroom. He was too young still to be house-trained. They had to be twelve to sixteen weeks old. He was only nine weeks old. She was going to take him to the vet to be checked out.
Buddy was curious about everything the vet and her assistant were doing. The assistant held him while he was being examined. Bark! When the examination was over, he got to play. The assistant gave him a toy bone.
Yum! Yum! It tasted like plastic. He held it with his paws and his teeth as he chewed on it. His baby teeth were starting to fall out. He couldn’t wait to get his adult teeth. Someday he would be a big dog who wasn’t afraid of anything! For now, he was a little puppy. He was getting used to the sounds and smells of his surroundings. Bark! That scared me! His human comforted him when he was scared.
The cat wasn’t scared of anything. Maybe because he was older. While waiting his turn at the vet’s office, he heard other animals. He barked at them. Hi, I’m Buddy! Another dog barked at him, introducing herself as Princess. She was a dog different from him.
He couldn’t tell what breed she was but she was about the same size as him. Maybe she was a crossbreed like him. He didn’t get the chance to ask her because his human was standing up. Bye, Princess! See you later! She raised her paw at him. Bye, Buddy! When they came into the studio, she had him on a leash. He wagged his tail at them after being set down on the table. Hi, humans! They all said hello to him and petted him.
“How did it go at the vet”, Brad asked.
“It went great. He is very healthy, which is awesome! He’s going to get his adult teeth, which means a lot of chewing.”
“Welcome to having a puppy”, Mike joked.
“Oh my god. Woody was the same way. He chewed up a pair of shoes and I had to throw them away. Thankfully, they were not expensive.”
They laughed. When Phoenix arrived with Chester and Rob, they also said hello to Buddy. Chester was so happy that she got a puppy! She introduced him as Buddy. He was a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel Poodle mix. How old was he? He was nine weeks. His tail wagged as the humans gathered around him and said hello. They all thought he was adorable! Bark!
She loved his ears because they looked like helicopters. They laughed as she extended them out. After a while, she left because he had to use the bathroom. Bye, humans! Chester laughed because he was so adorable! They all got ready to work. They were starting later in the day. That meant they would be going until around eight. Chester already had his first cup of coffee. He had a cigarette before coming in. Yes, he knew how bad smoking was and yes, he was trying to quit.
Phoenix was doing okay. He had talked to Linsey about what he told Brad. She loved him so much but he was not ready to be in a relationship. He had to learn how to love himself first. She encouraged him and pushed him to work on himself. When he looked in the mirror, he saw a broken-down man. He was trying so hard to undo the damage the abuse caused him.
The band discovered that Chester had also been abused. He opened up about being sexually abused for years by a family friend after breaking down in tears. They had no idea. Did it make them see him differently? No. They saw hurt pain and anger. When the abuse happened, his parents were going through a divorce. He couldn’t tell anyone because he didn’t want to be labeled as gay – no offense to Rob. Rob was one hundred percent not offended.
He also didn’t want to be called a liar. It took until he was thirteen when he finally told his parents. For six years, he wanted to die. But music kept him alive. They were stunned and saddened by what he had just told them. It took them a moment to figure out what they were going to say. What was appropriate? Finally, Brad spoke up.
“We believe you. I am so sorry that happened. Can we do anything?”
“No, thanks.”
“Yeah. No matter what, we will always be here for you. Never be afraid to show emotion. Get angry. Cry. It doesn’t make you any less of a man. We promise we will never judge you.”
“Thank you.”
He wasn’t just singing about pain, he was living it. Since then, he has become more comfortable. He and Phoenix became friends. They opened up to each other about what they went through. It was like they were part of a group that nobody wanted to be in. A group of men who were abused. It wasn’t their fault. How many times have they heard that?
It didn’t mean anything until they believed it themselves. Joe had secretly been talking to Mike about asking Bria out. He encouraged him to do it. Should he talk to Phoenix first? After thinking about it, he decided that he could give him a heads-up. Just as a courtesy. Phoenix thought it was cute how he asked his permission to go on a date with his ex-girlfriend. He had absolutely no problem with that. She was one of a kind. He wished him luck. Thanks!
@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon
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tooruluv · 4 years
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Hajime Iwaizumi x F!Reader
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❝ enemies, as well as lovers, come to resemble each other over a period of time ❞
description: your feud with hajime iwaizumi only escalated throughout your years at hogwarts; whether it was on the quidditch field or who would be the first to sit down in class, there always seemed to be some sort of raging competition between you two.  
genre: hogwarts!au, angst, enemies to lovers, slow burn, rivals, gryffindor quidditch keeper iwaizumi, slytherin quidditch captain f!reader
word count: 5.5k
warnings/notes: swearing, lots of angst, small depictions of violence, mentions of alcohol and drinking, not proof read im so sorry although i am an avid believer than both iwa and oikawa would be slytherins, i wanted to play with the idea of them being gryffindors, which actually makes sense when you think hard about it hfklhfd anyway! please enjoy!
part of a hogwarts collab !  collab masterlist posted here ! tysm to the wonderful @rintsuru​ for hosting <3
my general masterlist
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You could feel his presence from across the dining hall, immediately dowsing you in a raging hatred that you only reserved for him. His arrogance mocked you as he basically danced into the Great Hall bathed in compliments.
The Gryffindor quidditch team won against Ravenclaw the night before. You didn’t know why he had all of the glory... he wasn’t even the captain. Being keeper had its perks, you guessed.
You rolled your eyes and focused your attention to your food. You tried not to stab the plate as you heard the varying praises to the boy in red and gold. “Congrats, Iwa!” and “That last block was brilliant!” nearly made you want to choke.
Hajime Iwaizumi was simply not someone who deserved such compliments. He was vile, annoying, and did everything in his limited power to poke and prod at every single one of your nerves. You used to ignore your burning hatred that you harbored for him; but late in your second year, you had let it all out.
And, as it turned out, he wasn’t quite fond of you either.
It had been years since then, yet the feelings remained the same. It was just the start of your sixth year and you already wanted to gouge his eyes out with the pointy end of your fork.
Tooru Oikawa caught your gaze and sent you a cheeky smile. You wished that you could hate the captain as much as his keeper, but you only let your hatred for him simmer for so long. He was quite fun when he wasn’t next to the little shit.
“Just wait for next week when you verse Slytherin! You’re sure to win!” a small Gryffindor told them. 
“I wouldn’t be too sure.” You said, perhaps a bit too loudly. You lacked volume control, after all.
“What was that, Slytherin?” Iwaizumi turned to you. His gaze was fire on your skin and you wanted nothing but to catch him aflame as well. 
“Your arrogance and cockiness proceeds even you.” You said, voice monotone and venomous against the recent silence at your speech. “I wouldn’t be too sure of your success.”
“Say that again after the match.” Iwaizumi turned back to accept another compliment and find a place to sit at his house’s table.
You wondered if you would get expelled if an apple happened to launch out of your hands and land on the back of his head.
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Late in your second year, you had enough of Hajime Iwaizumi.
The both of you were in a silent competition the minute you were introduced to each other in your first year. It was never anything serious, just two eleven year olds who liked to be at the top.
It wasn’t until your second year that you started to feel genuine distaste for him. You had buried the thought of “hate” for a long time, masking it to be annoyance and opposition. 
The hatred was much deeper than a surface burn.
It was during charms class that you finally snapped. 
It was not more than the simple mutter of his breath. It was a mispronunciation of the spell and the tap of his wand against the table that made you lose your control. 
“Hajime! Can you please, for the love of Merlin, shut the fuck up!” The harsh language created a tense silence through the classroom. No twelve year old had the balls to curse that hard in front of that many people, including a professor. “If you are going to be an idiot, at least try to hide it.”
Hajime Iwaizumi turned in his seat to face you, irritation and vexation easily overpowering his shock. 
“Funny that you’re saying that.” He said.
“You’re so ridiculous.” You rolled your eyes. “Oh, I’m Hajime Iwaizumi and I am a perfect student that can’t even properly pronounce a simple spell! But that doesn’t matter because guess who’s a keeper for the quidditch team when I’m only a second year!! I am perfect!! Literally no one likes you.”
“Trust me, no one likes you either.”
No one meaning, and translating to, I don’t.
Just to show off, you easily cast the charm that he had failed. Charms was your strong subject, so you only needed to say the spell and flick your wand before turning your attention back to him.
He was nearly smoking from his ears, he was both embarrassed and livid.
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You waved to Kei Tsukishima as you caught his gaze from the side of the hall. He was a fellow Slytherin and a good friend, though neither of you would admit that to each other.
He nodded as his greeting. He shoved his book back into his bag as you made your way to his side.
“Hey, Tsukki.” You said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until practice tomorrow.” 
“Yeah, I’m waiting for Yamaguchi.” He turned his body to lean against the wall. “We’re going to Hogsmeade today.”
“No invitation?”
He sighed. “Would you like to join us, Captain?”
“I was joking, no need to sound so enthusiastic.” You chuckled. As you started to speak again, Tadashi Yamaguchi left the classroom the two of you stood outside of. He smiled at you, his green and white reflecting off of his eyes.
“Captain!” Yamaguchi greeted, putting an arm around your shoulder. “Are you coming to Hogsmeade with us?”
“Be careful, the idiots are coming.” Tsukishima interrupted and warned, motioning over your shoulder.
You turned around to find Oikawa and Iwaizumi walking next to each other, laughing about something only the two of them knew. You had to hold back from making a comment.
“Yoohoo!” Tooru Oikawa caught your eye. You sighed and turned back to your fellow Slytherins, sharing a look. 
“Hello, Tooru.” You felt him beside you before you looked. 
You purposely didn’t look at Iwaizumi. 
“We’re celebrating our win tonight, you guys should join!” Oikawa invited. You heard Iwaizumi’s exhale of frustration, but you only rolled your eyes in an attempt to ignore his presence. 
“You want a group of Slytherins hanging out with you, celebrating your win, when we go against you in less than a week?” Tsukishima spoke up. He moved off of the wall. “No thanks. Come, Yamaguchi. Let’s go.”
Yamaguchi waved goodbye and followed his best friend down the hall. You pivoted to fully face the two Gryffindors.
“I’ll come.” You said, mainly out of spite.
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Tooru Oikawa was naturally outgoing. He was the captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team, a flirt, and all together a pretty chill person. You didn’t mind calling him a friend, despite the vast differences between you two.
One vast difference being his best friend.
Which is why you found yourself next to him as soon as you entered the Gryffindor party. The cascades of burgundy and gold created a deep atmosphere in the hidden room, lights dancing along the dark walls and the smell of various alcohols filled the air. It was a Gryffindor party, that much was true.
You were one of the very few Slytherins that occupied the room. Your eyes caught sight of only a couple, most of them much younger than you and just happy to be at one of their first few parties.
“Oi, a snake has crawled into the winner’s common room.” Oikawa joked as he handed you a can. You accepted. 
“A snake in a lion’s den, I wonder who will win.” You quipped. 
“The lion, for sure.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure. Snakes can eat things 100 percent their size.” You raised a brow and opened your can. 
“Hm,” Oikawa looked over his shoulder and called out for someone you didn’t see. “Hey! Who do you think would win, a lion or a snake?”
“A lion obviously.” It was Hajime Iwaizumi. 
You let out a groan, immediately losing your sense of humor. “Ah, you’ll see in less than a week.”
“I don’t think I will.” Iwaizumi said, stoic and annoyed. “This win was only one of few.”
“I suggest you just celebrate this win.” You took a sip. “Because I don’t think the losing team would like to come to the winner’s party.”
“That just means I will not be seeing you, which is a grand idea.”
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It was the time of year just before winter, where the air starts to cool but the sun still warms your skin. You took a breath and held your broom at your side. 
It was near minutes before the anticipated game against Gryffindor, and you could hear the crowds already. The rivalry between your houses was something that everyone enjoyed; the rivalry between you and their keeper was all you.
“Alright team.” You pivoted to the team behind you. “We’re playing Serpent first; and if we don’t get any points within the first two minutes, I’ll hold up the signal for Green. Got it?”
“Got it.”
You had a pretty well-rounded team in your honest opinion. Tsukishima was perfect as your keeper, he was never one to let anything get past him. Your chasers included you, Yamaguchi, and another girl named Yui Michimiya. You had the Miya twins for beaters. And, rather recently, you gained a new seeker named Tobio Kageyama. The same age as your keeper, but only wanted to join quidditch out of hate for the Gryffindor seeker (and who were you to deny that?).
The Gryffindor team was not one to mess with, they had a nice team too. Iwaizumi as the keeper, the Idiots Nishinoya and Tanaka as beaters, their new seeker Shoyo Hinata... but the problem was their chasers: Oikawa, Kiyoko Shimizu, and Wakatoshi Ushijima. They were so quick on their brooms, it was like working against wind.
Today was no day to lose.
“It’s our first official match of the year.” You encouraged. “Let’s show them who not to mess with.”
“Let’s absolutely destroy them.” Atsumu added.
You grinned.
As you headed towards the field, you could feel the adrenaline creeping into your bones. Quidditch had become routine, simple muscle memory as you moved to your starting positions. 
The Gryffindor team appeared, and you felt the excitement enter you in a rush of air.
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In the air, Hajime Iwaizumi felt at peace. He was very good at what he did, and he knew that, and the game was something he was passionate about.
He was also passionate about beating you.
You were the bane of his existence. You had never once sent him anything other than something bitter or sarcastic. You were an annoying pest that he simply couldn’t get rid of.
And as you threw the Quaffle into the goal just above his head, Iwaizumi felt his eye twitch.
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Slytherin won, Tobio Kageyama’s hand high with the Snitch inside. 
You watched in triumph as the teams descended on the brooms. From the skies down, you cheered.
“Congrats, Slytherin.” Oikawa said, though his tone was bitter and sour. 
You knew that he hated losing, so you didn’t push it. He was a friend, after all. Sending him just a small “I’m sorry you didn’t win” smile, you headed to your team. You gathered them into a hug, or rather-- a huddle, and ruffled the hair on Kageyama’s head. 
You peeked over your shoulder to catch sight of Iwaizumi. He was standing, hands at his sides, red face and eyes blank of any expression other than anger.
You smirked at him.
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Hajime Iwaizumi was on the other side of the victory this time, silently brooding as he picked at his food in the Great Hall. The Gryffindor table emitted zero volume. 
He was pissed off the second you entered the hall, Kei Tsukishima and Tadashi Yamaguchi walking beside you. The green and white seemed to glow, mocking him in the worst way imaginable. 
Oikawa tried to bring his attention back to the food, but Iwaizumi was focused primarily on you. You were gloating, relishing in his loss, taking delight in the compliments from your house. A Hufflepuff appeared at your side, and you smiled as you thanked them for their congratulations. 
He felt sick.
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You could not help but drown yourself in the triumph. You walked on air, the feeling of superiority tickling every inch of skin it could touch.
You waved goodbye to a couple of friends, heading directly to the Gryffindor table. You placed your hands on Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s shoulders, leaning to place your head right between theirs.
“I suppose the snake beats the lion.” You sent a wink to Iwaizumi, knowing full well how it would provoke him. 
“Fuck off.” Iwaizumi shoved your hand off of his shoulder.
“Go receive your praise at the Slytherin table.” Oikawa shooed, fork in hand. “You won’t find it here.”
“Sore losers.” You mocked just for fun. You stood straight. “I imagine that I would be the same, given it were the other way.”
You basically skipped back to your table for breakfast.
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You were absolutely elated for the rest of the day. It was quite similar to being on cloud 9, winning your first game of the year against your rivals. The look on Hajime Iwaizumi’s face only added to the feeling.
You were walking down the hall, talking to a fellow Slytherin girl who had her arm wrapped in yours. She was going on and on about how she wished she could have imprinted Kageyama’s snitch catch to her memory.
That was when your shoulder collided directly into a firm body.
Your arm was ripped away from your classmates, along with your bag that fell onto the hard ground with a loud thud and wisp of parchment and ink. Everything in your bag now scattered the ground, covered in the dark ink and dirt. 
Your mood was too high to get too angry. It was an accident; you would bite your tongue and clean up the mess.
Until you realized just who’s shoulder you ran into: Hajime Iwaizumi. Your greatest enemy and now destruction of your contents.
“Watch where you’re going next time, Hajime.” You grunted, kneeling to save some of your parchment before the ink could reach it. 
“Perhaps if you had your head out of your ass, you wouldn’t have run into me.” Iwaizumi responded. He had turned to face you midway through your fall.
“As if you didn’t feel this way a week ago.” You told him, standing up. Nearly everything that was in your bag was soaked, including the bag itself. You inhaled deeply. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Now, why would I run my shoulder into you on purpose hoping to ruin your mood?” He asked. “You must be very arrogant to think that everything must be about you.”
You clenched your jaw and closed your eyes. “I will not let a piece of shit such as yourself bring my mood down today. Today is a good day.”
You knelt once again to find your essay that you had written for Snape, searching your documents. Only to find it one of the few that were directly under the ink, completely doused in black.
“Actually, fuck you.” You lifted the paper. Ink dripped off and onto the ground. “Do you know how long I worked on this?”
“I don’t know, a couple of minutes?” Iwaizumi shrugged. “You aren’t exactly the best at your schoolwork.”
“You wish you knew me well, but you don’t at all.” You felt anger boil in your chest. “I worked very hard on this essay. Days, even. And you destroyed it in less than five seconds..”
“There’s the Slytherin in you.” He let out a humorless laugh. “You think everything has to be about you, and if it doesn’t than someone is out to get you. Your ego is so fucking enormous that you can’t even muster the idea that maybe something isn’t about you. You didn’t even win, Tobio won the game for you. God, why don’t you go make a friend instead of standing here arguing with me about an accident?”
And then, “You really are a raging bitch, aren’t you?”
The girl that you were talking to had wide eyes, and you were sure that she was ready to fight. A couple of bystanders that were once just listeners started to mumble. And you.... you couldn’t fathom words.
Your feud with him had grown deep, but it had never gone as far as that. In front of a crowd, no less. 
It was one thing to make comments, to be bitter and roll your eyes at each other’s presence. It was one thing to bicker, to fight, to joke to friends about the other’s incompetence and purposely pull on each other’s strings.
It was something else completely to call you a bitch in front of everyone in the middle of a hallway after a thread of insults.
You fake smiled, feeling unwanted tears threaten their way to your eyes. You would not allow yourself the angry tears; they would only make you angrier. 
“You’re more than just an asshole, Hajime Iwaizumi.” You told him. Because you truly didn’t have any words.
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“Calling a woman a bitch is the worst insult. Those are fighting words.” Oikawa’s older sister used to say. “It’s comparable to calling a man a pussy.”
Hajime Iwaizumi didn’t think much while he spoke. He just said the things as they came, especially when he didn’t really care much about what you thought of him.
But, calling you a bitch... that felt as if it were crossing a line that he didn’t have the authority to cross. And the look on your face after he said it was one that he had never witnessed on you.
At practice, his head still held the image of you. 
He was confused. Why did he regret calling you a name? It wasn’t as if the two of you don’t argue in front of people all of the time. In fact, it was nearly a common occurrence. 
For some ungodly reason, he felt a tug at his chest. 
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“Maybe you should apologize?” Oikawa suggested.
“Why would I apologize to her?”
“Because I think you went a little bit too far.” He told his best friend as truthfully as possible. “Because as much as I think the rivalry between you two is fun, she’s still just a girl. And because my sister said you should.”
“You wrote your sister?”
“Yeah, of course I did.”
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For several days, Hajime Iwaizumi hadn’t seen you. You didn’t eat in the Great Hall, you didn’t come to the classes he had with you, you didn’t go to Hogsmeade like you usually did on weekends.
So, he came to your practice.
He was hoping to apologize. It was something he had never done to you before, and he had practiced it quite a few times. Just a small, “I’m sorry for calling you a bitch in front of everyone.”
Yes. That should be fine and the two of you could go back to the regularly scheduled loathing.
But the second he stepped onto the field, the two beaters stood in front of him. 
“I wouldn’t.” Atsumu said, holding his broom. “She’s been in a mood.”
“I know, I’m the reason for that.” Iwaizumi said. “I just want to talk to her. Just a second.”
“I wouldn’t.” Osamu repeated. “Whatever you have to say, it’s gonna have to wait.”
Iwaizumi nodded, looking at the twins. He was going to ask them to tell you that he had been there, ask them to ask you to meet him somewhere or something so he can get the stupid apology off of his chest, when you appeared behind them.
“Get off of my field, Hajime Iwaizumi.” You said. You had been at practice for the past two hours (according to the sign ups), yet your voice was even and you hadn’t even broken a sweat. In fact, your voice spit toxin in his direction.
“I just wanted to...”
You had taken off before he could even say his second word. The twins followed right after.
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Tooru Oikawa took a place beside you. It would have been normal, if it were not for your avid avoidance of anyone with a Gryffindor robe on.
“Hello, Tooru.” You said without sparing him a glance.
The thing was, you weren’t angry with him. You didn’t hate Oikawa, you hated his closest friend. And by association, you didn’t want to talk to him just as much. Oikawa had always been the middle ground between the doom and gloom that was the dark haired man you hated.
“I think you should talk to Iwa.” Oikawa said. Plain and simple, to the point.
“I think you should mind your business.” You retorted. “I never talked to him to begin with, what’s different now?”
“Because now is different.” He grabbed his book as the professor walked in. “Now, you won’t even say your smart ass remarks or tell him how fucked up his hair looks. Now is just... boring and sad.”
“So you want me to talk to the guy I hate in order for you to not be bored?” You scoffed and collected your things. “Truly, you are his best friend.”
You left just as the professor started talking, receiving a few stares in the process. It wasn’t as if you weren’t used to that.
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You were walking with Tsukishima, laughing at your attempts to get him to smile. Your team had really taken your mind and restored your confidence. You figured, as long as you didn’t see the man you hate then he simply didn’t exist. It was that easy.
Until you accidentally caught his eye across the street. 
It had been snowing, so most of the students were in their winter gear and warm clothes. You yourself had a hat and scarf on, gloves to cover your hands despite the hot to-go mug of cocoa in them. 
Hogsmeade was quite busy with everyone getting last minute holiday gifts and hurrying to hang out before break. Yet, somehow, your eyes found the brown of Iwaizumi’s.
You turned around, forcing Tsukishima to follow. The younger boy didn’t even have to ask about your change in demeanor, easily falling into pace beside you. 
You felt a hand on your wrist, and heard your name being called. “Hey. Can I talk to you? I’ve been trying to apologize...”
You stopped dead in your tracks, as if you were pulled on a leash. As if his bare hand touching your empty gloved one had scolded you. Iwaizumi stood before you, red cheeks from either the cold or from rushing after you. Either way, you wanted nothing to do with it. 
He had spun you in his grasp, his jaw tight and eyes searching yours before falling to his hand around yours. His grip on your wrist was tight, and he swallowed as his eyes found yours again.
“I don’t want to talk to you.” You snatched your arm away. “Have you ever considered that? I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you, and I don’t want to hear your half-ass apology!”
“I have been trying to talk to you.” He said. “I...” His eyes scanned yours. His tongue rolled in his mouth. “You mean to tell me that you don’t want my apologies?”
“You’ve made it very clear what you think of me, so I hope that I can make this very clear for you,” You took a deep breath. “I hate you. I don’t like you, I have never liked you, and I hope that whatever it is that is eating you up inside continues to do so.”
Hajime Iwaizumi’s eye twitched. He started to take a step towards you, but decided against it, falling back into the same step. “I don’t...” His voice was nothing as you had ever heard it. “You...” His eyes clouded with the emotions you were familiar with. “Fine.”
“Fine.”
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It was a sudden realization. It was not something you had even considered before, not something planned or reasoned. It was much like a tsunami, a build up of unrelated activity that brought something else entirely.
Emotions were unfortunate things. If you feel extreme emotions for someone, no matter what... they are still very strong feelings.
Hate to love, what a strange concept.
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You held the potion below your nose, inhaling the scent. 
“What does it smell like?” Snape asked.
“It smells like... bergamot.” You distinguished the varying smells. “Apple. And... lavender?”
You stepped back and hoped no one could see you connecting the dots through your eyes.
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Tooru Oikawa was an observant person. He was known to be the person who knew the best for his team, easily finding the perfect techniques for each on the field and as encouragement. He was one for connections and relationships.
Which is why he knew that you were masking feelings of something else with this burning hatred. Which is why he knew why you felt so bad after Iwa called you a terrible name in front of an audience. Which is why he knew who it was when you listed your amortentia scents.
He tried to send you a look from his seat across from you, classes later. He wanted to tell you that he knew; that he knew there was something more to what’s going on, and that something was Iwaizumi.
You just sent him a middle finger, knowing full well what he was getting at.
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Your feelings didn’t just suddenly arrive. And you were full of confusion, disorientation, and most of all... anger.
For as long as you could remember, Hajime Iwaizumi was supposed to be your arch enemy. He was your nemesis on a daily basis. He was the reason for your annoyance. He was the reason for your hatred for the colors red and gold. He was the reason you became the quidditch captain. He was the reason for the breath leaving your lungs.
And he was the reason for the breath entering.
You were pissed. You were pissed that you had unrealized feelings for the man you were supposed to hate, have hated for years. You were pissed that your love had been in a game of chess, where the only outcome is to win or forfeit. You were pissed that the entire time you had spent a vast majority of your time hating, loathing, rolling your eyes at... the entire time you had a reserved space for hate, when it should have been quite the opposite.
The luck must have been exclusively for someone else, because it seemed as though whoever created you had decided to have a fun game.
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You had punched Hajime Iwaizumi once. 
It was something you thought of a lot, and it was the main reason Iwaizumi chose not to test you too closely to that day. 
He was rolling his eyes at something Oikawa was saying when you walked by. You were heading to your quidditch practice, the captain not one for latecomers. And he caught sight of you. He quickly jumped from his spot and stopped you from passing.
“Out of the way, Hajime, I have practice.”
“Oh, right, because you’re on the quidditch team now.”
“I am, thank you very much.” It was the beginning of third year, and you were not only annoyed but you were also a Growing Person going through puberty. You did not have time to deal with a teenage boy pissing you off. “You forget that not everyone got on the team their first year of trying out.”
“Because we’re better than the entire Slytherin team.”
“Talk to me when you win a house cup.” You tried to push past him, but he stood directly in front of you in one step. “Move, or be moved.”
“What are you going to do? Punch me?”
So, you did. Your fist collided with his cheek before you could even register that it had happened. Oikawa gasped out loud, it quickly turning into a laugh. 
“She punched you!” Oikawa laughed, grasping at his sides. “Ah man!”
While Iwaizumi touched his cheek to check that— ah yes, you really did punch him— you were already walking away to the practice field.
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Iwaizumi missed you, if he were being fully and completely honest with himself.
He found himself searching for you in classes or in common areas, prepared for your snide remarks and bitter taunts. He found himself waiting for you to roll your eyes at his presence; looking for you to quip about the next quidditch game.
But when none of it came, he felt out of place.
He actually missed your annoyed banter. He missed you shoving your middle finger in his direction. He missed the redness on your cheeks when you would try to calm yourself down. He missed the silence that would escape you if he entered a room and you were anything other than angry.
He missed catching you smiling at someone and watching your face change. He missed the arguments in class. He missed the little comments during eating.
Confused, he pushed those feelings down as he watched you eat with some Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff that he had never talked to before.
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It had been several weeks of silence from your end. You had thrown yourself back into quidditch before the break, happy to have a distraction from whatever the fuck you were feeling. You weren’t going home for the holidays, so you spent some time planning for the spring and classes.
You found yourself outside, sitting in the snow and writing a make up essay for Snape. You had found a nice spot under a roofed area, so nothing smudged your writing (or, you know, covered it completely). 
“Oh.” A voice said from above you.
You looked up to find Iwaizumi, hands in pockets and staring at you as if you had never existed and he was discovering you for the first time.
“I wasn’t expecting to find anyone here.” He said. 
“Yeah, obviously neither was I.” You started to put your things away.
“No... no comment?”
“Hm?”
“No... snarky comment? No you look terrible to me?”
You shook your head. Mainly because you didn’t have the energy. You were content, bored, and just overall exhausted. You had exhausted yourself in thinking of every possible outcome to your love for the man in front of you, none of which made any sense.
None of it made any sense.
It was as if one moment, you were standing on ground. And the next, you were swept away by a giant wave that you thought was only an earthquake. You hated love. 
“Then, can I finally say what I have been meaning to?”
“No.” You finally got the last of your things into your bag. 
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why can’t you just hear me out?” He stood in front of you, hoping to stall your leaving. “I’ve been trying to tell you that I shouldn’t have called you a bitch, and I should have...”
“And I don’t want to hear it.”
You started to leave, but he jogged to jump in front of you again. Through the years, he had gained height compared to you. You weren’t necessarily kids anymore, you weren’t at eye level to just punch him in his cheek without reaching for it. 
“God, you’re fucking annoying.” You shifted your bag on your shoulders. “You want me to call you a name so it can be even? You want me to tell you that everything is fine and we can go back to our constant fighting? What do you fucking want from me?”
“What do I want from you?” He asked, voice rising to match yours. “What do you want from me? I’ve been trying to get your attention for over a fucking month and you have given me every reason to just stop.”
“Then why don’t you!” You dropped your hands. “Why don’t you just leave me the fuck alone?”
“Why?”
“Why what, Hajime?”
“Why?” Iwaizumi let out a small breath, the grey cloud leaving his lungs. “Why won’t you just let me talk to you for five minutes?”
“Because I don’t want to! Because I don’t want to hear you make up excuses. Because I cannot listen to your voice for too long.”
Before you could stop yourself, before you could recognize your own voice, before any thoughts arrived, you said, “Because for some fucked up god awful reason, I’m in love with you!”
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Everything froze all at once. The oxygen left your lungs, the snow stopped falling, and everything became so unbearably silent.
You stared at him, regret drenching you in an instant as if the tides of the ocean had rose and fell in one single motion. You couldn’t breathe, your heart seized in your chest and against your ribs. You couldn’t bring yourself to look into his face, fearing to find yourself lost and never found.
He let out a single breath. And you held yours.
fin.
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evco-productions · 2 years
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Jack Reacher’s Height Does NOT Matter (Repost from Quora)
How many times have you watched a movie based on a book and said to yourself, “Yeah, the book was a lot better”?
Here’s a little bit of a deeper question: how many times have you asked yourself why the book was better?
See, I think people tend to get caught up on the wrong things when comparing books and their film or television adaptations. Take Jack Reacher for example.
Now Amazon Prime just released the first season of its version of Reacher—which, by the way, is really good—but I’m talking about the Tom Cruise movies.
When the first of Tom Cruise’s two Jack Reacher movies came out, I was twelve years old and I’d never read a Jack Reacher novel. I didn’t know why anyone wouldn’t like that movie, until I figured out that in the books Jack Reacher is like seven feet tall with arms the size of tree trunks. And Tom Cruise…isn’t. So, for people who are fans of that book series, this really pissed them off.
“Tom Cruise can’t be Jack Reacher! That’s like making Spider-Man black!”
It’s not that I don’t understand where they’re coming from. If you picture a character looking a certain way for a long time, it’s probably a little frustrating to see the exact opposite of that in the visual adaptation. But if you can have the self-control to set aside that one little hang-up for just a minute…Jack Reacher is a good movie.
The second one sucks, I’ll give you that. But the first one is entertaining. I’ve always especially liked how it functions as a kind of antithesis to the Mission: Impossible movies. Tom Cruise plays a similar character in both series, but while the Mission: Impossibles are all about going to exotic locations and performing increasingly insane stunts, Jack Reacher is a little more grounded, a little more subdued. It’s a nice change of pace in terms of the style of the action sequences.
But I digress. The point I want to come back to is that aside from the physical description of Jack Reacher himself, nothing about the movie seems to compromise the integrity of the original story. That doesn’t mean nothing else was changed, it just means if there were any changes, they didn’t ruin the movie.
Think about The Lord of the Rings movies. You think those contain every scene from the books exactly how they were written, or did they maybe take a few creative liberties?
“But they didn’t make the hobbits six feet tall, did they?”
As it stands, The Lord of the Rings is a fantasy series, so the height of hobbits or dwarves is not a preference but a necessity to the world-building. Jack Reacher is just a guy, in what is meant to be a realistic world, and his height does not affect key aspects of the story unless specific scenes are written around it.
When it comes to adapting a book into a movie, getting variables like a character’s height correct is much less important than keeping the same themes and tone of the source material. This is why adaptations like The Perks of Being a Wallflower and Stand by Me work so well. They may not look exactly the same on the outside, but they have the same heart and soul. They preserve this key sense of familiarity that keeps fans of the books from being alienated despite a few small changes here and there.
If both Tom Cruise’s first Jack Reacher movie and the new Reacher show are entertaining—and they both are—then what is the logical conclusion? The character’s height is trivial.
Don’t get me wrong, as much as I love movies, I love books too, and sometimes I wish I could see just one adaptation of a favorite book that plays out scene for scene, word for word, exactly how the author originally wrote it. But at that point, it’s less the fault of any one specific movie and more indicative of the limits of the medium. As a visual art, movies can’t do everything that books can do, and vice versa.
When you think about it, it’s pretty awesome we often see the same stories told in both book and movie format, because that means we get to experience those stories in two unique ways and weigh the pros and cons of each. See you next time.
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ahankar1610 · 3 years
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Hello there, people of Romione. Nah, second fic. It's inspired by 'a walk to remember', the novel coz the movie did not give book the justice.🙄🙂
I hope you people will like my romione version, and thank you to everyone who gave their time to 'The Trojan Princess', update is not far away on that one 😉😉.
A Tale of Ron and Hermione.
FFNET: 👇
https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13926524/1/A-Tale-of-Ron-and-Hermione
AO3: 👇
The first chapter is here 👇.
English is not my first language so I hope, you people can adjust. Coz if I didn't have my sister to help me, you all would have been suffering my disheveled English 😅😅.
Please read and review and visit it on ao3 and ffnet. Thank you. 😊😊
Chapter-1
(President Granger) Hermione Granger sighs as she sat on the bench outside the office of professor McGonagall's office. She is frustrated because of the upcoming bloody Halloween Ball. She had to be present at the ball, not because she is the Head girl, it is because she is the president of the Student Council which was officially created by the Ministry of Magic to find the best upcoming talents who are capable of leading Britain as the best magical country of the Wizarding World. She was one of the first student who was selected for the group, because of her habit of being at the top of the class in the last six academic years of her. Though it was a surprise for her when professor McGonagall called her and informed her that she wants her to be candidate from Gryffindor who will compete against the other candidates from the other three houses for the post of the president. To be honest, she never expected herself to win as she was never the popular student, but as Merlin have blessed her that she got Harry Potter as her best friend. Harry is unofficially, the most popular student of Hogwarts. His wonder of securing place in the quidditch team when he was just a firstie, and being the youngest seeker of the century was a huge endorsement for his famousness. Then in no less a time Gryffindor team became unbeatable and he was the best seeker of the Gryffindor team after Charlie Weasley left and being James Potter's son, one of the most wealthy and successful businessman of the Wizarding World, has its own perks as he was showered with high class quidditch material by his quidditch enthusiast father. Harry was one of the first ever person to befriend her. It was her first year and she had asked the way to the Platform 9¾ from the Potters and from there her friendship with Harry started and she believed that it is because of Harry, she had made friends in their year. She had Lavender and Parvati, who at first did not liked her much but warmed later and they created a great bond together. Seamus and Dean are no exception as they were there for her before she befriended any female from Gryffindor house. She had asked Harry for his help in the campaign for the voting and he had enthusiastically took part in her campaign for everyone's glee and her embarrassment as he once created a wall sized poster of her, with bold words engraved on it. VOTE FOR HERMIONE GRANGER THE FUTURE OF THE WIZARDING WORLD She still receives teasing for that incident. She surprisingly won the voting defeating the candidates of the other houses. Though it was hard work regarding the other candidates of the other houses were brilliant in themselves too. Daphne Greengrass was the Slytherin candidate, she has the honorary title of the Hogwarts' ice queen but is respected by many because of her unbiased views on everyone, even on the Gryffindors. She also received the best prefect award in their fifth year and she also beaten her to the top in the fifth class as she received one mark more than her in their Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.s, though she and Greengrass never had a real conversation, there is a unspoken mutual respect between them. Terry Boot was the Ravenclaw candidate and he was also one of the best students academically in their year, but he is not much of a person of interacting and perhaps it was the reason he lost. She blessed Harry as he was the one who forced her to put her book down once and introduced her to the thing called fun or she would have faced the same fate as Boot. Zacharias Smith, she laughed as Smith came into her mind, after all Smith was one of the main causes which made her the winner of the voting. Smith, though good in the academics, is not in the good graces of many people around Hogwarts, including his own house fellows. Sweet Professor Sprout, certainly made a mistake choosing Smith as her house's candidate. Perhaps she never heard of Smith's infamousness between the students. He was disliked even in his own house by many and that is the reason they choose to vote for her as they didn't know
much about Boot and Greengrass must have faced the consequences of Professor Snape's biasness toward the other houses. "President," said a soft voice, she turned her head and a fourth year Hufflepuff girl was standing there and the door of Professor McGonagall's office is opened. "Professor McGonagall has called you inside," said the girl, Hermione nodded and stood up. She walked inside the office closing the door behind and noticed the girl has gone now. "Miss Granger," said a stern voice in greetings. Professor Minerva McGonagall is sitting behind her desk with a stern expression and her cat like eyes scanning her whole features. Professor McGonagall had given her the responsibility speech when she chosen her, the Gryffindor candidate. She had made sure Hermione fills the both responsibilities of Head Girl and President of Student Council decently. "Good afternoon professor," Hermione greeted back. Professor McGonagall nodded and motioned her to take a seat while she rummaged through some papers spread on her desk. It was something surprising to see, for Hermione at least as she had always noticed from their first year that there is no messiness you can expect from Professor McGonagall. Though Hermione don't eighter blame the old professor as there are at least fifty different sheets of papers around the table. Some of the sheets are the grading papers which are thrust into a register, and there are is a huge poster covering the whole table and everything present at the table is doing the work of hiding it. She can figure out the color of poster, it is dark blue reminiscing the color of night. "So," said Professor McGonagall a little firmly, indicating that whatever is going to discuss between them now means business. Hermione straightens her spine unconsciously. "You must be busy with the preparation of the Halloween Ball nowadays, Miss Granger?" asked Professor McGonagall. Hermione nodded stiffly, as the reminder that she, the Head Girl and the President of The Student Council, is dateless two days before the ball came into her mind. "Then you must be also informed that even after upcoming the ball, you're not going to have much free time," Professor McGonagall said, and Hermione's brows furrowed in confusion. Noticing her expression, the professor sighed and dragged a poster up, which was hidden under the mess on the table until now. The poster is large, a size of a huge television. And in the center of it, in huge bold words, there was written 'THE DRAMA FESTIVAL'. Hermione looked at the poster with a frown appearing on her face, but she suddenly turned into the expression of indifference. Professor McGonagall rolled the poster and put it on the side of the table, not very tenderly. Which told Hermione, that the professor also isn't pleased with this, whatever Drama activity it is. "The Headmaster," a frown of frustration appeared on Professor's face, "had accepted the request of Professor Lockhart's permission of hosting the Drama Festival this time at Hogwarts." Professor Lockhart? When in the hell did that man became a professor. Gilderoy Lockhart was famously known for his roles in Wizarding Dramas since he passed from Hogwarts. He was also known for the famous plays he had acted and directed himself, they were regarded as special because they were inspired from the old tales of Wizarding World. She had a stupid crush on him when she was twelve, Parvati had shown her his photo and she always blessed merlin that she soon recovered from that crush, because Harry had made her life hell when he got the wind of her crush back then. "Any questions, Miss Granger?" Professor McGonagall asked, breaking her musing. She stared at her for a moment, Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrow. She blinked a little and realizing that she had been staring at the Transfiguration Professor's face for five minutes. "Uh-Ah, yes exactly," she said awkwardly and mentally slapped herself realizing how dumbly she is speaking now. "Yes, professor. I mean when will Hogwarts is going to host this event?" "It is going
to be held this December. On 19th of December before the start of Christmas holidays," McGonagall said with her voice a little softer as she is going to inform her everything about the upcoming event. "The Drama as I have informed is based on the famous 'Tales of Beedle and Bard'," said Professor McGonagall. "There will be five plays, which are based on the five stories of the book and the five stories will be played by the students of different years." "The third year students will start with the first play and other plays will be played by the students of following years in the chronological order," McGonagall sighed a little which made Hermione feel that something horrible is coming. "And," the professor drawled a little, "all the arrangement of the festivals are the responsibility of The Student Council." "What? Why!?" she asked a little loudly and flinched when McGonagall sent a pierce glare on her volume. "I mean, why!?" she asked softly. "Because," said Professor McGonagall softly, "Student Council's work is to help students in increasing their skills, and by skill we didn't only meant their academic skill but also their extracurricular skills which not only includes sports but other activities like drama too." Though the points her head of the house gave her are reasonable and adequate, but it still did not take the ridiculousness from the situation she's stuck in. "I know you are not pleased with the events but you must realize that it all is your responsibility as the President of the Council and I don't want the Boards of Directors feel disappointed from the choice of the Hogwarts, now please go and rest Miss Granger. The ball is day after the tomorrow and might need some rest because the tomorrow is going to be a hectic day for you." Professor's words indicated that she's not in a mood of a debate and is really tired. "You're dismissed." Hermione stood up and after wishing the professor a good night she turned and left the professor's office and strolled directly towards Gryffindor common room, where she thinks she might find her friends. She nearly ran towards the seventh floor. Her mind is full of thoughts of the stupid Drama Festival which she had to prepare for nearly two months. Wasn't the bloody Halloween Ball enough!? Her mind is screaming to itself and with the thought of Ball she got the reminder of the absence of a date and it will be pretty embarrassing if the president of the Council turned up alone for the Ball. She huffed, she didn't sign up for any stupid ball and drama fests. "Hippogriffe feathers!" she said the password rather loudly as the portraits around the entrance startled on the loud voice of hers. Entering the common room, she noticed that there are not many students present but the group of her friends was still present on the couches near the fireplace. Dean was the one to notice her, "Hiya President!" he said cheerfully and everyone's head turned towards her. They repeated Dean's words as chipperly, "HIYA PRESIDENT!", umm well too chipperly. She walked and collapsed at the empty space beside Lavender and leaned on her, "Hectic day, I guess," Lavender mused. "Don't even ask," she muttered. "Why does your voice sound so dull, deary?" asked Seamus teasingly, "Is it because our dear President still doesn't have a date?" he laughed. Hermione flipped the small cushion on Seamus's face. Bullseye. "You still didn't find a date?" Lavender asked, a little disappointed as Hermione promised her that she will find a date by evening. "I was so busy, first the preparation and all of the arrangement of the food which I had to arranged with the elves," she closed her eyes and said tiredly, "I really didn't got the time." "Too bad, because nearly everyone is booked now and you're going to turn up alone," Harry chipped in. "Even Neville?" she asked. "Yup! Didn't we told you, Mister Longbottom is getting pretty cozy with certain Hufflepuff name Hannah Abbott." Parvati said. "Arrgh! What in the name of Merlin am I going to do now?" she asked desperately to her friends. "You
can spend the whole night talking to Luna though. She'll be delighted to spend the Halloween night with you," Harry sniggered, Hermione's closed eyes shot wide open at the aspect of spending a whole night in the party with Luna. Everyone laughed at her expression and she started to run her mind to at least find one date, so she will be spared having a night just of controlling the students and conversing about Luna's antique. "Well Hermione," said Seamus loudly. "I would not have done it for someone else but after all you had a special place in my heart." He forwarded a thick book to her which she is encountering for the first time. "What's this?" she asked. "It's the yearbook, I stole it from McGonagall's office," she gasped and Harry shushed her, "So you might get some ideas from it." Seamus said smugly, looking proud of himself on stealing the book from the office of keen-eyed Professor McGonagall. The subject quickly diverted to the quidditch matches, leaving her and the yearbook alone. Though she was little uncomfortable as after all her 'great' friend had to steal it for her. She closed her eyes and started rummaging through pages and after a great search her eyes landed on one name, she knew who probably not had a date by now, Ronald Weasley.
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jui-imouto-chan · 4 years
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How does Atsumu and Osamu fit into the story? I love them both especially in a hinaharem, so I'm curious!!
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Part 10
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[Image Description: A screenshot of a reply from a user named @mickybloginb379 . The text written is, “Miya Twins as foxes and maybe Fox Kita too? Kita finding Shoyo first and repeatingly visiting which leads to the Twin’s getting curious, and circling around shoyo’s legs at the same time :)” End ID]
I got carried away OTL. This may have been influenced by me watching too much NatsuYuu 
Hinata was not pleased with this situation.
Pressing his back to a a withering tree, his eyes darted around as a shiver passed through his body. The graveyard was quiet, although the tranquility that some found when cleaning the tombstones was evidently not present within Hinata.
A breeze broke the eerie stillness, sending a few leaves aloft, which then skittered across the ground whence gravity recalled them. Hinata whimpered a bit.
“I just need to clean up the grave and place and offering. Clean and offering. Clean and offering...”
“You can’t clean a grave from behind a tree.”
Hinata screamed, backing further against the tree, the bark digging into and scratching his skin through his shirt. “Wh-Who—Ghost?!”
From the white robes to the silver-and-black hair, the guess wasn’t unfounded.
“Nope.”
Hinata could’ve cried from relief.
“Are you lost?”
“N-no. I think....”
It was clear as day that the other was unamused by his momentary incapability, rolling his eyes and grasping Hinata’s wrist softly to tug him away from the tree. Hinata’s cheeks burned. Despite his mild mortification, he felt a wash of gratitude flood him.
Eventually, Hinata was stood before his father’s grave, and his palm was pressed snugly against the silver-black haired person’s. Their fingers loosened their clasp, but didn’t unwind fully, not until Hinata heard the jingle of bells and a breeze brush his side, his hand suddenly empty.
And then, with another gust and another jingle, the other returned, a broom and dustpan firmly in his grasp. “I’ll bring something to clean the headstone with. Sweep the ground, for now.”
Hinata really shouldn’t have been surprised that this person was supernatural, honestly. His features were far too serene and eyes too present for him have been just a normal person around his age, after all. Not that Hinata knows very many normal people.
The two of them cleaned quite efficiently, and the other, introducing himself as Kita Shinsuke, even brought incense for Hinata to light. Hinata offered him some of the food his mom had made as the offering for his father, but Kita said it wouldn’t be right to eat it if it wasn’t intended for him.
“Then if I make you something, will you eat it? I wanna thank you for your help! You really saved me today!”
“I’d be willing to eat what you make, although I won’t say I like it if it doesn’t taste good.”
Hinata smiled determinedly, “I’ll make the best lunch ever, I promise!”
Kita, despite his strong inclination of doubt, couldn’t help but smile back, albeit nearly unnoticably.
Kageyama was thankfully not home for the first five attempts at making Kita a lunch box, although he did bear witness to the latter half of them, which was still unfortunate. Hinata’s mother would have scolded him, but she and Natsu were too busy speculating about why he was making the lunch and occasionally strolling in to assist him.
“It’s done!” Hinata cried after the twelfth try. Kageyama dutifully kept his mouth shut, for once, eyeing Hinata’s hands and steering the redhead to the bathroom to clean up.
“Kita-san!!!!” Hinata called out to the cemetery, his bright aura dispelling the eeriness of the location. “Kita-saaaaan!!!”
“You shouldn’t shout in a place like this. It’s rude,” Kita murmured, his hand settling over Hinata’s mouth. “Will you behave?” The redhead nodded, and Kita slowly removed his palm. “So, what’d you need?”
Hinata proferred a box wrapped with a yellow cloth dotted with cats. “I brought you lunch, like I promised!”
Kita looked a little taken aback, and Hinata wondered if he was imagining the way Kita’s hair seemed to twitch. “You remembered?”
“It was only like, two days ago! How could I forget? Especially when Kita-san saved me from ghosts and stuff—”
“—That didn’t happen. There wasn’t a single ghost—”
“—it’d be ungrateful of me if I didn’t make good on my promise!”
Kita’s almost couldn’t handle watching Hinata break out into a grin. His eyes felt strained, like he was staring directly into the sun, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away. Softly, he let the corners of his lips push up, and he accepted the box gingerly.
“Let’s eat elsewhere,” he offered, urging Hinata to hold onto him by the shoulder. He jumped, one foot landing before the other onto a hill of long grass overlooking flower fields. A forest stood off to the right, and a single tree sat behind them, providing a bit of shade.
Hinata wasn’t quite prepared for the sudden transport, stumbling to his knees before gazing around in wonder.
Kita helped him up. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
“Yeah!”
Eventually the two of them settled to the ground, Hinata watching anxiously as Kita opened the lunchbox.
Kita paused, observing Hinata’s jitters. “It’s not poisoned, is it?”
He shook his head, Kita breathing a chuckle.
“It was a joke. Thank you for the meal.” His hands pressed together in a momentary prayer, and then he lifted a single octopus-hot-dog-weiner to his mouth. Hinata watched him intently, and Kita knew before it hit his tongue that Hinata put in a lot of effort when making the meal. Just that info made it delicious, but once he’d swallowed it, he eagerly sought more, trying some of the riceballs and vegetables on the sides. He saved the fruit for last.
“Is it good? Do you like it?”
Kita nodded serenely, offering an octodog to the redhead. Hinata immediately latched on and slid the octodog out from between the chop sticks. Kita had to avert his eyes, only to spot the bandages wrapping Hinata’s fingers and parts of his palms.
“You’re hurt.”
“Oh, yeah! I accidentally chopped my fingers, and burned them. I stopped hurting myself as much after the fourth try, though!”
“How many tries did you take?”
“Twelve!”
“Sounds like you wasted a lot of food,” Kita commented. At that, Hinata pulled a pouty smile on his face that was a bit too adorable to not gain amusement from, though Kita consoled him with a ruffle of his hair.
They descended into a comfortable quiet.
After ten minutes, which. Kita almost wished could have been eternity, Hinata tugged on his sleeve. “Will you let me make you lunch again?” He mumbled, looking up through his lashes.
“I smell food.”
“That’s just because you’re a damn glutton.”
“What was that? You wanna say that again you bastard?”
“If I’m a bastard then so are you!”
Fists flew, the sound of fighting accompanied by shouts and grunts. Kita stepped in just as Osamu bit Atsumu’s calf and Atsumu yanked his hair. 
“Why is it that every time one of you speaks, it comes to this? Do you find amusement in wasting your minimal energy on healing injuries that could have been avoided?”
The twins’ ears flattened against their skulls, their big, dejected eyes ineffective against Kita’s bland disposition. 
“Sorry.”
“Sorry.”
Kita breezed past them, starting up the electric kettle to prepare himself some tea. 
Osamu and Atsumu perked up at once. 
“Your steps are bouncier,” Atsumu piped, at the same time as Osamu commented, “You smell like food.” They then made eye contact with each other and pointed, simultaneously saying, “Oh hey, you’re right!”
The two small fox spirits proceeded to prod at him endlessly regarding his seemingly ‘good mood’, and the tiny smile he had as he batted them away seemed to only fuel their suspicions. 
“Woah... Tsumu, he’s got more energy, too.”
“Yeah, it’s radiating!” 
They likely absorbed some of the stray energy coming off him, growing a little taller. Instead of looking like toddlers, they now were the equivalent size of a six year-old human. It was almost strange to see them this way.
Kita didn’t let his confusion show on his face, though his tail swished slightly, enough to peek out of his robes. His ears also raised off the top of his head, finally, twitching as he considered where the extra energy came from.
Was it the lunch?
“Kita-san, what did you do? Did you eat someone?”
“No, I don’t do things that I don’t let you two do.”
The twins seemed to communicate with just eye-contact, and it was one of those rare occasions where Kita couldn’t quite decipher what they intended to do with the information they had.
Hinata always felt antsy during the moments Kita prayed--just between the “Thanks for the meal,” and the first bite he’d take of the food Hinata prepared for him. This time, Kita brought with him a small snack in exchange for Hinata’s. 
“You’ve gotten better,” he commented after a swallow. He always wiped his mouth between bites instead of licking his lips, meticulously keeping the tissue folded in a particular manner. “I think the fried rice could use a bit more salt next time, though.”
“Ah, thank you! I’ll remember that!”
It felt like an escape to spend time with Kita, somewhere far away and unknown. Like a secret retreat, away from all of the other supernatural beings that he contracted, and away from the stress of school and tests and life. Hinata felt like he got more chipper than usual after their picnics. 
Unbeknownst to Hinata, the same could be said about Kita. They’d only meet once or twice per week, and yet the silverette couldn’t always keep his smiles at bay even days after their lunches. Furthermore, the surges of extra energy from the meals helped him keep a better eye on his troublesome junior foxes, even allowing them to ‘age up’ when they’d latch onto him.
Speaking of those troublemakers...
“Did you hear that?” Hinata asked him, peering over at a spot in the long grass. “I think someone’s there.”
Kita sighed, brushing off his pants and preparing to grab his companions and send them home. However, before he could begin to walk over, Hinata was crouched in front of the patch where the twins hid, smiling at them disarmingly. 
“Are you two lost?” 
The silverette joined him with a hand on his shoulder.
“They’re not lost, don’t worry. They’re with me.”
Hinata grinned at them. “You’re Kita-san’s friends? Nice to meet you!” 
Their eyes widened just a bit, tails swishing.
Kita knew it was inevitable that the twins would get interested, but he should’ve known that it was going to happen much sooner than he’d have ever hoped.
Days later, Hinata presented two extra boxes, one with a silver-blue wrapping and the other with a sunset-gold. “I’ve brought some for them, too. The little foxes.” 
“Atsumu might not eat it,” Kita warned, “Although if Osamu eats first, then he’ll probably get hungry and give in.”
“Which one’s which?” 
Kita’s eyes gleamed. “I’ll let you figure that out.”
The twins did not come to spy on them this time, but Kita dutifully brought the lunchboxes to their cabin once Hinata left. As expected, Osamu dug right in, and Atsumu held out as long as he could before giving into his competitive nature. The twins choked on the food in their efforts to finish eating before the other (Osamu won), but when they finished, their bodies were at the approximate age of 13. 
Even more impressive than that, though, was that they remained older for a lot longer than they usually do with extra energy, reverting back gradually over the course of a few days rather than the standard overnight regression.
If Hinata’s cooking alone could produce such results, then what would a contract do? ...What would his blood do?
Kita closed his eyes and banished the thoughts before they could fully manifest.
• Part 10 of (?) •
• I really liked writing Kita. I feel like he’d actually really like Hinata, since Hinata’s always been really hardworking and puts in all this effort to be better. I think Hinata would really like that Kita’s attentive and a good listener, so he could ramble endlessly if he wanted and Kita would be content to listen. •  
• Also, anybody curious as to why Osamu and Atsumu ‘age up’ and ‘revert’ to a younger state? •
•• Send Asks for more! Feel free to ask about characters and send Headcanons! Or if u wanna just talk Haikyuu/ships, I’m good with that too! :) and for other parts, search the “summoner au” tag on my blog and you’ll find em! ••
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norisquared · 4 years
Text
(Translations at the end)
-
Paris isn't all it's cracked up to be. It's dirty, packed full of people, and smells like either weed or piss. Sometimes both.
Still, Eiji's having fun, so that's what matters, really. He's snapping pictures of the Eiffel Tower from every conceivable angle, wrapped up in the supposed beauty of it. Eiji's repeated the same action about a million times, now - hold the camera still, take a picture, frown at said picture, and try again.
And Ash is content to watch him, of course, but he does feel a little ignored. While everyone around him is marvelling over the famous landmark, he's squinting up at it, trying to figure out why a hunk of rusted metal with some lore is so terribly pretty. He's like a twelve-year-old girl at her first concert, acting uninterested in the hope her favourite band member will notice her.
The lead singer finally looks over the top of his camera, and beams. Ash's heart flutters a little, and he grins back.
"You done?"
"I think so!" Eiji readjusts the strap that holds it secure around his neck. "Do you want to see?"
"Hm. Not now." Grimacing, Ash shakes a leg. "If I have to stand for any longer, I'm gonna collapse."
Eiji laughs lightly. "What if we found a cafe to sit in - then I could show you?"
"That sounds more like it. Somewhere with shade, though." The sweltering heat renders Ash's forehead disgustingly sweaty and leaves him regretting wearing - well, anything, really.
Eiji sighs. "Agreed!" The shutter closes over the lens as he switches the camera off, and lets it hang at his neck as he takes Ash's hand in his.
"Gross. Your hand's all damp." Ash pulls an exaggerated face of discomfort.
"I could say the same thing to you, mister!" Pouting, Eiji lets go, only to link their pinky fingers a moment later. "Better?"
"Uh-" Now, Ash could be nice here, and say something equally as sweet as Eiji's actions. Or he could be an asshole. "-your hands are really tiny."
He gets shoulder-checked for his efforts.
-
They find a small ice-cream shop that's quietly busy - hidden from the masses, but still holds a small crowd of people sitting at various tables. The queue is a decent size, and as they wait for their turn, Eiji switches on his camera and starts fiddling with things.
When their turn rolls around and the cashier is waiting for their order, he's still fiddling with things.
"Eiji." He nudges him.
"Hold on..." Eiji murmurs, clearly with no idea where he is, or any intention of stopping any time soon.
Ash sighs. He might as well do it himself.
"Uh..." He holds two fingers up to the cashier. "Deux glaces... s'il vous plaît?"
"Quels parfums?" The clerk responds with all the enthusiasm of a teenager at their first part-time job.
"Une boule de pistache, et..." He turns to Eiji, who's stopped messing with his camera; instead, he's openly staring at Ash like he's never seen him before. "What flavour do you want?"
"You- What?" Eiji continues to look at him, eyes wide.
"Eiji. Ice cream. Flavour." Ash can't help but smirk - he knows exactly what's tripping Eiji up.
"...Strawberry?"
"Une boule de fraise," He finishes. The cashier nods, and once their ice creams are handed over, rings up the total. It's significantly more expensive than two ice creams should be - although Ash doesn't expect anything less from Paris. He pays the price, and the two take a seat at one of the outside tables.
"You speak French?" Eiji asks, incredulous. "And you managed to hide it from me, somehow?”
Ash takes a good, long lick of his ice cream, before responding with a self-satisfied smirk. "Surprise!"
"Why wouldn’t you tell me?" 
"It wasn't the right time?"
"Ash." Eiji fixes him with a withering stare. "We are in France."
Ash sighs dramatically. "Look, I just wanted to surprise you with some French in some prestigious art gallery or fancy opera house, you'd think I was cool and hot for speaking said universally proclaimed love language, then kiss me." He raises an eyebrow as Eiji flushes a very visible shade of pink. "Is that too much to ask for?"
"Wh-" Eiji's face displays a myriad of emotions, before he erupts into soft giggles. "You're ridiculous."
"Thanks, asshole." And Ash probably should feel more offended than he is, but he can't bring himself to be when it's Eiji. Instead, he tries to change the subject so he he can avoid being the butt of the joke again. "You said you wanted to show me your pictures?"
"Oh!" Eiji perks up, and hands his ice cream to Ash so he can switch on the camera. "I took this one I think you'll really like! There was a bird flying past, just by the top of the tower, and I accidentally got it in the shot... but it turned out quite pretty!" 
He angles the screen so Ash can see. Although he doesn't know much about photography, he does have eyes that tell him it's a damn good picture. Eiji has right to be proud - and the sheer elation on his face is enough to melt Ash's resting bitch face into a smile, almost as fast as the ice creams he's holding.
"Yeah." He pauses, leaning in, and presses a soft kiss into Eiji's hair. "You did good, mon chéri."
Eiji scrunches his nose. "What does that mean?"
"I called you short."
He get shoulder-checked, again.
Although, he supposes he deserves it.
-
Note: I’m only half french so if there are any actual french people out there please correct any mistakes you see! 
Deux glaces... s'il vous plaît? - Two ice-creams... please?
Quels parfums? - What flavours?
Une boule de pistache, et... - One scoop of pistachio, and...
Une boule de fraise. - One scoop of strawberry.
Surprise! - Take a guess 
Mon chéri - Definitely not short, that’s for sure >:)
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i-needa-nap-please · 4 years
Text
Friends and Food
Summary:  
Usagi invites Seiya, Yaten, and Taiki over to celebrate New Year's.
Notes: 
This takes place before Usagi knows the Three Lights are the Starlights.
This was written for @docholligay’s same prompt party. 
The prompt was Usagi Tsukino and "New Year's Fireworks".
It’s also on ao3, if you’re interested. 
“Why did you drag me here?” Yaten, who was currently wrapped under five layers of blankets, bitterly muttered under her breath. “I could be home and sleeping right now, but instead, I’m freezing my damn ass off.” 
“Maybe, if you stopped being a bitch for five seconds, you could actually have a good time.” Seiya snapped back.  Currently, Seiya was sitting on one of those cheap folding chairs that were usually only used by parents at rec-league sporting games. A warm, big fire smoked in front of her - which was the only thing preventing Seiya from leaping out of her chair and tackling Yaten to the ground. Taking a deep breath, Seiya tried to remember she was here to relax. Even if Yaten kept acting like a huge ass, she should just brush it off and enjoy herself. She had to. For Usagi. “Bunhead’s really excited to do this with us - so please, try to be less of a bitch. I know that’s hard for you, but try.”
“Whatever.” Yaten grumbled, curling into her own shitty canvas folding chair. 
A silence overtook the two as they patiently waited for Usagi and Taiki’s return. Bits of ember crackled in front of them, illuminating the otherwise dark night. Noises drifted in from outside the Tsukino’s backyard. The Tsukino’s neighbors were also outside, eagerly awaiting the - firewalks? Firewongs? Fire-somethings. Neither Seiya or Yaten could remember what word Usagi had been bambling to them about earlier. But whatever it was, it was certainly a big event. It seemed everyone in Tokyo was outside with their families, just waiting for them to start. 
“It’s snack time!” Usagi’s loud voice broke the lull between the two, making them both look over their shoulder towards the girl. Usagi, outfitted in some cozy-looking bunny pajamas, bounced over to Seiya and Yaten. In her hands was a single, already-half-eaten chocolate bar. Behind her, Taiki had her arms full of various different treats: chocolates, chips, sodas, and more goodies than four people could possibly hope to eat in one night. “Help yourself! But don’t touch the peanut butter cups! Those are mine!” Usagi plopped into her own chair before taking another bite out of her chocolate bar. “Oh!” She perked up in her chair, speaking while loudly chewing. “And don’t touch the barbeque chips either! Those are also mine!” 
Taiki unburdened herself by carefully setting the large haul of junk food on the ground, out of the fire’s reach. With a sigh, she plopped into another chair, while simultaneously grabbing a bag of cookies for herself.
“Thank you again for having us over tonight, Miss Tsukino.” As always, Taiki spoke like she was giving some lecture. So methodically and evenly. Like a teacher. 
Usagi hummed and nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, sure! It’s no problem! Fireworks are better with friends! And food!”
“Ah, yes. Fireworks.” Taiki nodded while opening the bag of cookies. “I was hoping-.” 
“Wait!” Usagi lunged forward, interrupting Taiki and ripping the cookies out of her hands. “Those are mine too! Sorry!” She certainly didn’t sound sorry, though. The Starlights watched as Usagi then shoveled a few cookies into her mouth - which was already full of chocolate - without a care in the world. As if she hadn’t just rudely yanked them out of Taiki’s hands. 
“Jeez, can we eat anything you brought out?” Yaten spat, giving Usagi one of her more menacing glances. It was wholly ineffective on Usagi, who just continued to stuff sweets down her throat. 
“Yeah,” Usagi simply responded. “You can eat the stuff that’s not mine.” 
“Well it seems like everything you brought out is for you.” Yaten retorted.
“That’s not true…” Her sentence trailed off as she stared at the pile of snacks. Slowly, Usagi got off her chair and kneeled besides the pile. She stared at the pile with a level of concentration that looked downright disturbing on Usagi. Eventually, she set aside about five different bags of chips and candy - and a few sodas as well, because Usagi was a kind and generous host (according to herself, at least). “That’s all for you.” Usagi gestured to the small pile before gesturing to the big pile. “And that’s for me!”
Yaten looked ready to burst, so Seiya quickly cut in. She let out a hardy laugh as she reached out and stole a piece of candy from “Usagi’s” pile. Usagi tried to stop Seiya’s theft, but Seiya was far too quick for her. In mere moments, Seiya had half a candy bar down her throat. 
“Y’know,” Seiya started conversationally between bites. “Being stingy isn’t good for you.” 
“Being a thief isn’t good for you either!” Usagi retorted, but didn’t attempt to steal the candy back. Instead, she plopped back into her seat and angrily nibbled on the cookie’s she stole from Taiki. “Imagine what the headlines will say when I tell the press about this! Popular Idol Steals From A Defenseless, Pretty, Cute, Amazing, and Beautiful Girl!”
Yaten snorted. “I doubt the headlines will look like that. More like, Little Brat Gets What She Deserves.” The shade of red in Usagi’s cheeks matched the fiery red of the flames in front of them. Yaten truly did have a talent for making people angry.
“Anyways.” Taiki pointedly interrupted before things got out of hand. “As I was saying earlier, I was hoping you could tell us a bit more about these… fireworks, Miss Tsukino.”
“Wait.” Any anger from before was completely gone as Usagi looked between the Starlights with wide eyes. “You guys don’t know what fireworks are?” 
“Er, no?” Seiya hesitantly replied. Nervous glances were exchanged between the Starlights, but Usagi didn’t seem to notice them. “We used to live in the....countryside, so - um, we don’t know much about...fireworks. Or New Year’s celebrations in general. So, um, yeah.” That had to be the worst lie Yaten or Taiki had ever heard, but Usagi seemed to buy it. 
“I guess that makes sense.” Usagi hummed, tapping her finger against her chin. All of the Starlights let out a relieved sigh. “Fireworks are kinda hard to explain. Like, they’re really loud and can be scary - but at the same time, they’re so pretty! It’s like, like, seeing glowing flowers in the sky! They come in all different shapes and sizes! You’ll never see the same firework twice! Kinda like snowflakes.” Gesturing to the sky, Usagi finished her mini-speech. “That was a bit confusing. But trust me, once you see them, you’ll know what I mean!” 
“Huh, they sound really cool.” Seiya commented, leaning back in her chair and staring out at the sky. “Can’t wait to see ‘em.” A silence - which really wasn’t a silence, because they all were eating so loudly - overtook the fire as all four of them looked towards the sky. “So where are the others, Bunhead? I’m surprised your little posse isn’t here.” “Rei’s busy at the shrine. Shrine’s get really busy on New Year’s.” Usagi licked some chocolate off of her fingers. “Ami is spending New Year’s with her mom. And Mako likes to do a deep cleaning for New Year’s - so she’s at home doing that.” Pausing for a moment to think, Usagi licked the excess chocolate off her lips. “As for Minako, I think she mentioned something about a party? I asked her about it and she told me it wasn’t a party for kids, so I couldn’t come. I bugged her about it all day at school but she still didn’t tell me. Oh! And then Haruka and Michiru are doing something special - I think.” Usagi’s brows furrowed in concentration. “They didn’t actually tell me their plans, but when I asked them about it, Haruka just got all red! And all Michiru said was ‘we have big plans’, so it must be something fun!”
Seiya almost spit out the drink she had opened while Usagi was talking. “Oh yeah, I’m sure those two have some big-” Seiya emphasized this word with an obscene gesture “-plans, alright.” She doubled over, snickering to herself, shoulders shaking with laughter. Taiki and Usagi, who had missed the gesture, stared at her in confusion; while Yaten, who had seen the gesture, dramatically rolled her eyes. 
“Oh, grow up.” Yaten scoffed. “You act like a damn twelve year old.”
“Shut up! Nobody asked for your opinion, dumbass!” 
“Will you two both be quiet? That’s no way to speak in front of Miss Tsukino!” 
A loud noise - a bang - followed by an ear piercing whistle cut off the budding argument between the Starlights. All three of them jumped up from their chairs and quickly turned towards the noise, ready to fight. Still in her chair, Usagi let out an excited squeal and pointed to the sky, where a single, green flare soared. 
“They’re starting!” 
Another loud bang occured when the green flare reached its peak and then burst. It lit up the sky, like a great, huge, verdant flower. Rooftops were illuminated, people from other yards oohed and ahhed, and the bright lush light slowly faded back into the black of night. The Starlights stood, frozen to the spot. They stared with wide eyes, expressions changing from one of panic to one of wonder. Soon, more flares were shooting up to the sky. Each of them banging loudly as they exploded in brilliant, dazzling colors. 
It was absolutely memorizing. 
Slowly, each Starlight sat back down, eyes still glued to the display in front of them. Usagi, oblivious to the Starlight’s absolute awe-struck astonishment, continued to grin and giggle in her seat, all while shoveling in more cookies. The fireworks show began in earnest after that. Firework after firework was fired, repeatedly lighting the sky in beautiful hues. The night sky went from a warm red to a deep blue and everything in between. It wasn’t until the fireworks show finally stopped for the night, that the Starlights were able to break free from their trance. 
“That was…” Taiki, who was usually so good with words, sat there speechless. She stared at the now empty sky, her brain desperately trying to find some way to describe what she felt. “...amazing.” It was a wholly inadequate description. To Taiki, that firework show was beyond amazing, it was one of the best things she had ever seen before. But it was the only word that came to mind. “They do this every year?” 
“Yep! Every year!” Usagi cheerfully replied. “And they do a bunch throughout the year too! At festivals and stuff!” Reaching down into the pile, Usagi pulled out another candy bar for herself. “We can go, if you want! There’s a festival with fireworks next month! You have to promise to buy me cotton candy, though.” 
“No problem…” If Seiya and Taiki weren’t still so awe-struck, they would’ve gotten shocked at what Yaten just said. “I’ll buy you all the cotton candy you want if we can see these again.”
“Really? Great! We’ll definitely go together then!” Usagi seemed more than happy with the deal, grinning to herself in her chair. 
Seiya was eventually able to pull her gaze away from the sky and to Usagi. “Thanks for inviting us, Bunhead. I mean it. That was one of the best things I’ve ever seen.” Her voice was full of an honest, raw sincerity. A tone she usually only had when it came to senshi business, but the fireworks had cut right into Seiya’s very soul. Each burst of light seemed to implant itself into her heart. 
“I’m really glad you all liked it so much!” Usagi reassured Seiya, nodding her head along with her words. “This was really fun. Seeing you guys get all excited about the fireworks made me love them even more. Hopefully the festival’s fireworks will be just as good.”
“Hopefully.” Seiya agreed.
“Well, now that the fireworks are done.” Standing up and clapping her hands together, Usagi drew the attention of the rest of the girls. “It’s time for the super, extra fun time to start!” All three of the Starlights were snapped out of their post-fireworks bliss as they realized the peaceful tranquility the fireworks had brought them was about to be ruined. The smile Usagi had on her face looked innocent, but there was some unlying current about it that made all their stomachs turn. It could only mean trouble.
“Super extra fun time?” Seiya asked. 
“Yep! Now that the fireworks have happened, the next New Year’s event is to watch the first sunrise together! So, in order to stay awake until then, we’ll have to play lots of fun games!”
Taiki seemed taken aback, sputtering in her chair. “The sun won’t rise for nearly six more hours!”
“That’s why we play games!” Usagi chipperly reminded her. 
“No way! No way in hell!” Yaten did a complete one eighty. The serene calm she had been feeling after the fireworks was completely gone. “I’m not staying up for another six hours. I’d rather die!”
“Oh! Good idea, Yaten!” Usagi sat down, completely ignoring Yaten’s rage as she grabbed a bag of chips. Her barbeque chips. “The first game we’ll play will be Would You Rather!” From her seat, Yaten let out a distressed scream and buried her head under her multitudes of blankets. “Taiki, you’ll go first!” A bewildered looking Taiki turned her head to Usgai. “Would you rather date Ami or Mako?”
Taiki’s face became a deep shade of red as her mouth became a thin white line. Seiya was barely holding it together in her chair, trying so hard not to burst out laughing in that very moment. Yaten was curled under her blankets, cursing Seiya for making her come tonight. Usagi - pointedly ignoring all of their reactions - eagerly awaited an answer, all while continuing to munch on her chips with a wide grin. 
New Year’s was always better with friends. 
And food. 
New Year’s was always better with friends and food. 
28 notes · View notes
littlemessyjessi · 4 years
Text
“Chasing Jessi”:  A Sirius Black Story: Plus Size OC: Chapter 8: “True Happiness”
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Sirius Black Imagine Turned Story
Re-Written and Edit of an old story of mine I had on Mibba that deserved some more love and attention, lol.
Sirius Black x Jess Scamander (OC, OFC, PLUS SIZE OC, PLUS SIZE OFC)
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The day was November the second. The time was precisely 11:53 p.m. Just a few more minutes, the day would change over and it would be the birthday of none other than Sirius Black. Who, coincidently, lay no further than three feet from the current all out war raging in James Potter's bed. War you ask? What's the matter, you ask? Jess happened. At ten til twelve, Jess had snuck into the boys dormitory with full intentions of being the first to tell her boyfriend happy birthday. However, her plans were foiled when she saw JAMES sitting up in his own bunk. Just waiting... "No." he had said to her when she entered. "I've been the one to do this for the past six years. It's my right." "I'm his girlfriend." she had whispered. "I'm his best MATE." he had countered. "Well, I'm prettier!" she argued quietly. "Says who?" he challenged her in a harsh whisper. Her full lip had curled into a snarl before she shoved him into his bed. She jumped on top of him before she promptly tried to suffocate him with his own pillow. Eventually....their 'quiet' scuffling awoke everyone in the room. "What are you two on about?" Remus groaned as he turned on the light. "What now?" came Sirius' groggy sleep deprived voice as he pulled back the curtain of his bunk to see his girlfriend straddling his best mate in his bunk. He lifted a dark brow. "Not exactly the way I'd like to start out my birthday, but ok. I'll give you a chance to explain before I blow my top." he said trying to wipe the sleep from his eye. "Hap-" James started but Jess clapped her hand over his mouth. "Happy Birth-" she got out before James did the same and the wrestling began again. Eventually she bit him and they went tumbling off the bed and she kept trying to choke him. "Guys." Sirius said tiredly. "You stupid black haired, four eyed, quidditch playing little -" she said hitting him with each insult. "Guys." Sirius repeated rubbing his eyes. "Oi!" he defended and tried to shove her off. "Nothing about me is little!" "Guys." he said again. "That's not what I'm going to tell, Lilypad..." she grinned evilly as she socked him in the arm. "You wouldn't-" "Hey!" Sirius snapped. "Happy Birthday to me! There, problem solved. Now, neither of you were the first." "Awwww." Jess and James said in unison. Sirius rolled his dark grey eyes at the both of them. "It's midnight. Please just go to bed." he said, so tired with the both of them. Clearly, he wasn't THAT much of a morning person. And it was only further proven when he laid back down and ripped the curtains shut around him. Jess eventually got off James and he got back in his bunk. The two of them glared at each other momentarily before Remus turned the lights out again and she turned to leave. However, before she did, Sirius felt something soft press against his cheek and a sweet little, "I love you. Happy Birthday." was whispered in his ear. Soon followed by the undeniable sock in James' arm judging by his groan and a faint, "Ha!" And then she was gone. Sirius couldn't help the smile on his lips as he drifted back off to sleep. As crazy as they all were....he was so lucky to have them all in his life. Several hours later, the four Marauders were heading down to the Great Hall for some breakfast. James' felt like he had been justified since he'd actually given Sirius his first present on his actual birthday. However, when he saw that crazy girl sitting at the table waiting on them....he felt a little nervous. She had Lily on one side, Alice on the other and a pleasant smile on her face. She was quietly eating her pancakes. Now, those that knew her knew that there was very little that she actually did quiet....and pancakes and syrup were not one of them. Pancakes were an event. Pancakes were a celebration. Pancakes were, to Jess, life. So, to see her so composed....well it made the Quidditch captain a bit uneasy. But as they approached, she leapt from her seat and fled the Great Hall. At first, no one really paid that much attention....because sporadic events such as that were common place with a girl like Jess Scamander. However, as the day progress and the hours passed...Sirius felt a bit down. Most of his birthday had passed now and he'd barely seen her. He didn't expect her to dote on him but....he cared for her deeply....and he'd thought that maybe they'd spend time together on his birthday. He knew the deal with Jess. Sure, he knew she was wild and that she loved to explore...and that a great deal of her time she spent covered in mud, searching for some odd little creature. He supposed he just missed her was all. Their relationship was rather fresh after all. Officially, only a few days in but he'd felt like it was much longer...mostly because he'd spent so much time pining after her. However, apparently their short lived honeymoon phase was shorter than normal. Needless to say....he was moping around the castle. He ACTUALLY went the the library and when he got there he knew something was wrong with him. Since when did Sirius Black actually go the library...out of boredom?! He was in desperate need of some firewhiskey and he knew just the person to get it for him. Off he went in search of a few Ravenclaws he knew he buy some off of. However, at each source he was turned down. The more he tried to cheer himself up....the further down he got. People kept avoiding him. James had already blown him off for a quick game of Quidditch. Remus had to study...which wasn't all that unusual to be honest. Peter claimed he had already made plans with someone else.  Eventually he found himself in front of the entrance to the kitchens. With a sigh, he tickled the pear and let himself in for a snack. However, upon arrival he was a little shocked to find the house elves in full motion, preparing as if dinner was near. Which they most certainly were not since it had been a few hours ago. As he looked around he noticed how much of his own favorite food littered the space before mysteriously disappearing. "Hello, Master Black." came the voice of a tiny elf he knew to be named Posey. "May I help you?" "Er, yeah. Where's all this food going?" he questioned carefully. She shook her head, "I mustn't tell anyone that, Sir. Terribly sorry bout that. Would you like a snacker or something?" His curiosity having peaked he waved her off and he left the kitchens in search of where that food had mysteriously disappeared to. Eventually, having searched corridor after corridor, he bumped into Alice. "Oh, hello, Sirius. Sorry." she smiled apologetically. "No problem." he said softly. Alice tilted her head, "What's wrong, Black?" "Nothing." he faked a smile. Alice gave him a rather pointed look. Sirius sighed. "It's just....I feel like everyone's been avoiding me today. I mean, I don't expect anything special or anything for my birthday but it just seems like- oh, bloody hell, this is ridiculous." Alice smiled, "It's not ridiculous, Sirius. I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason." He just nodded...not entirely believing her attempts to make him feel better. "Well, if you'd like I'm looking for this so called Room of Requirement. You can tag along if you'd like and we can see if we can find it." she offered. "Oh, I know where that is." he said with a shrug. "Come on. I'll show you." Alice smirked as the boy turned and walked in the other direction before looking back at her. "Coming?" he asked with raised brows. "Yes." she smiled and fell in step with him. Alice played dumb and let him lead her to it before he turned to her. "It's pretty simple." he said nodding his head to the blank wall in front of them. "You just have to visualize what you want and then just walk back and forth three times. To put it plain- if you should need a toilet." he said and demonstrated before a door popped up and revealed a toilet.   "Cool." Alice smiled. "Try it." he said. Alice smirked and visualized what she wanted before another door appeared. Sirius stepped up and opened the door to what appeared to be a dark room. He peered inside and yelped when she shoved him in. "Oi! Alice, what the bloody-" "Surprise!" His gray eyes were as wide as saucers as wands lit the room and many smiling faces greeted him. Complete with party streamers, balloons and confetti. Good music, all his favorite foods, a table full of gifts and plenty of room to dance. His face was priceless as he stared around the room. A surprise party....for him? His eyes searched the faces of his friends before they landed on one in particular. Jess stood there in a rainbow stripped dress and a grin a mile wide. Unbeknownst to her, James, Peter and Remus were pointing at her behind her back. Sirius strode right to her, pulled her into his arms and planting her with a massive kiss. Eventually they separated for air and she gasped. "Well, Merlin's Beard, Snookums!" she giggled. "If I knew a little party would produce that reaction I'd have told you this morning!" He pressed his forehead against hers, "I fucking love you." Her eyes sparkled as she grinned at him, "I love you too. Now, let's party! There's cake to be had!" The evening progressed with ease and happiness. A lovely meal, the opening of presents and plenty of time to dance. It was a blast...unforgettable. As the people began to disperse, Sirius pulled Jess out onto the dance floor. He was no Sinatra but one perk of his upbringing required him to know a handful of ballroom dances. Although, a basic slow danced worked just fine as he held her close to him. Sirius stared at Jess with his steely dark grey eyes. "You're staring me, Sirius." she pointed out with a smile. "You're beautiful." he said honestly. She smiled, "Thank you." "Thank you. For all of this, Jess. Really it's the best present I've ever received." he told her. "Well, you're welcome but this isn't your present." she said. "It's not?" he questioned. She shook her head with a smile. "Follow me." she said taking his hand. "And also, I plan to rub what you just said in James' face later...so just prepared for him to mope." Sirius snorted and tossed his arm around her shoulder so he could kiss her temple. She lead him out of the castle....pulling some rather sneaky maneuvers to get past curfew, mind you. However, eventually they made it to Hagrid's empty hut. Only vacant because the half giant was currently still in the room of requirement....presumably drinking himself silly. "What are we doing at Hagrid's?" he asked curiously as she wove through the pumpkin patch toward something covered in a large tarp. She turned around and smiled, "Oh, so she still needs some work and I'm thinking a fair bit of magic might really make her extra special. But I'm telling you, she's a real diamond in the rough, Siri." Sirius couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips, "Jess, what are you on about?" She ripped the tarp off to reveal a beautiful motorcycle. Shock covered his features as he made his way over and took it all in. "Like I said, she needs a little love but I've done a lot of work on herself myself so she rides pretty smooth. She's just not as easy on the eyes." Jess rambled. "Although, I think I've worked out a fair few spells that will really make a -" Sirius cut her off but cradling her face and giving her another passionate kiss. It damn near flushed the air from her lungs. "Why did you do this?" he asked her. He just couldn't understand why and how he'd been so fortunate to have her. "Because I love you." she said softly. "And I thought it would be something you'd like. Do you like it?" "I love it." he said. "Almost as much as you. Almost." She patted the seat of the bike affectionately with a smirk. "You know." she grinned. "I'm betting I could place a silencer on it for now....if you wanted to go for a late night ride...." "I don't know how to drive it." he admitted. "I do." she grinned. "I can teach you. It's pretty easy and not that much different than a broom. Get on." She hopped on first and he slid around behind her. "Ok just reach around me and we'll do it together." she said looking at him over her shoulder but he was already staring at her. She bashfully looked away as she cast the charm on the bike and cranked it up. It roared to life beneath them and she popped a wheelie...just to mess with him. However, the laughter that came from him made her soul shine. He was happy....truly happy and that was all she had ever wanted.
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Chapter Seven
Chapter Nine
Hello, loves! How do we feel about this chappie?  Sirius’ surprise party and his bike! Squee!!!!! The boy is in love!!!!!!!  
I’d love to what you think! Please feel free to hit up the ask box, blast the comment section or reblog with your thoughts and feelings! Next chappie coming soon!
All my love darlings!
Kenny
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Love, Kenny
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jjyusmile · 4 years
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finders keepers | lee jaehyun
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hyunjae (lee jaehyun) | finders keepers
pairing: hyunjae x {female} reader!
word count: 2,293
note: so i was literally lying with my dog and immediately thought of hyunjae and dogs bc my mind often wanders to hyunjae,,, so enjoy!
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“Present! Here boy! Bring it back, come on… bring back the tennis ball!”
You noticed a guy attempting to get the attention of his dog, and failing. His dusty hair was perfectly styled, so much so that it didn’t move an inch when his head whipped around to follow the movements of his golden. He must’ve still been in his puppy years, taunting the guy in a lunge whilst holding the tennis ball in his mouth, ready to pounce. This was park not too far from your house – a haven for multiple humans and four-legged friends in the evenings.
You turned your attention to Luna who laid with her head on your feet. Near the bench under the sycamore tree was her favourite spot to park under on a warm summers evening. The lilac blanket creased underneath as you wriggled to get comfortable; over an hour of playing with your four-legged friend made you both tired and desperate for relaxation. You shifted your weight onto your left elbow to flick the page of your latest novel and Luna’s head popped up as if she thought it was time to play again.
The way her pointed ears perked up with joy made you smile. Your one year old corgi had listened to you complain about everything with those ears, and yet, they still perked up with interest every time. You threw the toy that she had rested by your hip just moments before she conked out at your feet; her little legs ran quickly as she snapped up the toy like it was her lifeline. So dramatic, you chuckled.
“Why are you so cute!” She excitedly bounced around you and you took her small head between you palms giving her all the pats she deserves.
But quickly her attention was stolen by bounding golden fur coming toward you, knocking you down onto your blanket as the intruder chased at Luna tangling you in a mess with her leash. As they continued to chase one another, you looked around for the dog’s human.
Much to your annoyance, you spotted the same tall, dark haired boy who stood a few meters away in a prime filming position; the phone in one hand and a deep red leash dangling from the other. A boisterous laugh burst from him as he slapped his ripped denim knee with joy – that was a sound that you’d never heard before, and wanted to hear more of. But at this precise moment, you wanted nothing but to drag him by the ear to calm his dog down.
But it all ended quicker than you thought, when he lowly whistled and the excitable golden retriever left both you and Luna sat in shock as he bounded over to the boy in denim. It happened so quickly you didn’t even have a moment to call him out before they left the park.
With a huff, you packed up your blanket and picked up the end of Luna’s leash, that you managed to untangle yourself from, and headed home.
***
Perched under the sycamore week later, your cube speaker played soft jazz as you relaxed from the intense week at work. You were laid on your front with your legs fluttering to the sound of the beat; your coral dress was complimented by the golden sunlight that glimmered when you shuffled into a new position. In front of you were the chocolate covered strawberries and the crossword puzzle you had been saving for this very moment.
Luna had laid not too far from you on the grass, chewing on the cut-up strawberries you prepared especially for her. It was peaceful this evening, the numerous sounds around you mingling together against the melody: children laughing in the playground a short distance away, maintenance finishing up the rounds on a lawn mower nearby, the subtle sounds of metal clanging from the piped artwork dangling from the tree above you. The smell of the freshly cut grass put you at ease.
After breathing in the addicting scent a few more times, you focused on the pocket-sized book beneath you.
8. Six letters: the incorrect use of a comma.
You pondered for a moment. Gosh, you should’ve paid more attention in your literature classes at school. Six letters. You tried every literature technique you could think of…
“Splice”, a voice said from beside you. You jumped in shock as you looked up to find a familiar face - the proximity of the familiar figure you hadn’t noticed until he spoke. But your shock washed away when you saw that said figure held one of your chocolate covered strawberries in his hand and ready to place in his mouth.
“Do you often invade someone’s personal space?” you snapped, annoyed at him for ruining your peaceful moments, but more so at yourself for letting him get the reaction he wanted. How did he reach for the delicious treat without you noticing?
Beside you, a familiar flash of gold mixed with Luna’s black and fawn fur. Her yelps of excitement joined with low barks from the stranger’s dog.
“Number twelve, twenty letters. Look up.”
Your eyes shot down to the page that he had pointed to, a confused expression morphed your previously irritated one. Yet, you saw his eyes glimmer with a knowing look – know it all.
Looking down back, you matched it to the instructions written in cursive.
12. Twenty letters: also, known as ‘platanus occidentalis’
“No, that’s six letters”, you huffed, wiping your fringe out of your eyes that blew with the wind that had picked up.
He grinned down at you and crouched to meet your eye level. Slightly mesmerized, you wondered what on earth he was about to do. His hand stirred in your peripheral vision, coming into view with a finger pointing upwards. You focused a little too long on the rings that clad his finger, making them appear slender but strong. It took you a few moments to realise what he meant. So, you looked up and sighed.
Sycamore.
Losing your train of thought, you hadn’t noticed that same finger that had pointed you to the prize start to brush your fringe out of your face and behind your ear, lingering for a few moments until your wide eyes snapped back to him.
But, the wink that followed was the last thing you saw as he quickly stood from his squat and turned to walk away, calling his dog in the process.
The pink that stained your cheeks got deeper as your face flushed.
Who is he?
***
You sat under the familiar tree with the intention of bumping into the stranger a few days later. His actions irritated you to no end, but something stirred within you that left you more excited than irritated to be in his presence again.
You had finished the chocolate covered strawberries already – this time, keeping a close eye on the pleasant treat.
You weren’t relaxed as you watched Luna gnaw at a stick she had found in the bushes. Your eyes darting from her to any stranger that came a little too close. This stranger had too much of an impact on you for only having met him twice – once with minimal conversation.
It wasn’t long before you notice him enter the park with Present, a smile on his face as the golden dragged him leash first to the ice cream cone that a child had dropped moments ago. Eyeing the interaction, the action made your smile match his and your gaze lingered on him for longer than you had anticipated.
He was lean. He wasn’t hugely muscly, but his body filled out in all the places you found attractive. The white t-shirt he was wore complimented the melanin in his skin and his smile lit up his entire face – the way his eyes crinkled as he threw back his head in laughter.
Your smile faltered as a blush came over your face. Luckily he noticed you after your gawking session. But it didn’t stop him from making a beeline from the park gate to the exact spot that you and Luna laid each visit. You averted your gaze quickly and opened the novel that was placed beside you, ready as a disguise from your look-out position.
As he came closer you noticed the slight sweat that dripped down the side of his face as you peered over the book, the ends of his auburn hair slicked to his face. That moment you noticed the grey sweatpants that accompanied the t-shirt that clung to his skin with a red bandana tied around his wrist that matched Present’s leash. He must have been for a jog.
Stop staring, you’re being weird!
You focused back on the book that happened to be upside down. A subtle rotation of the book didn’t go unnoticed to the man that approached you, he chuckled as he neared.
“Have you read Ulysses so many times that you could literally read it upside down? I don’t think even James Joyce himself could do that…” he questioned, whipping his forehead with the bottom of his shirt. The slight definition of his stomach didn’t go unnoticed by you either. But your preparation of his moment followed you to focus back on his question before you embarrassed yourself completely.
“No. I was… uh- distracted by Luna! She must’ve found a worm and she started barking really loudly!” Your tone was nervous, as was your forced laughter.
“Luna. So, that’s your name.”
He leaned down to give her a pet on the top of her head, which caused her to jump up as her paws rested on his squatted knees. His lips pulled up into a toothy smile as his attention focused on the way her ears perked up to his attention. “Cute.”
You rolled your eyes – everyone found Luna cute, it was nothing special.
“And the name of her lovely human?” You didn’t miss the way his eyes sparkled in a teasing way.
After contemplating for a few moments, you told him your name, to which he replied, “Jaehyun” with his hand stuck out awaiting a handshake.
It didn’t take long for the conversation to shift from an awkward first {third time lucky} encounter to a flowing discussion between lifelong friends. You sat a short distance apart on your blanket, snacking on the mixed nuts you had stashed in your picnic bag. It dawned on you after an hour or so how easy Jaehyun was to talk to.
“So… let me get this straight. Your name is Jaehyun, but your friends call you Hyunjae? What’s the point?”, you quizzed. You liked both names, but would rather call him by his preference.
“A friend I grew up with is also called Jaehyun, but he was born in February 1997, whereas I’m September. So, he got first dibs on the name and we flipped mine to stop the confusion. You can call me either, I don’t mind.” There’s that mischievous grin again.
You smiled back and became distracted by Luna’s attention to the movement of Jaehyun’s fingers along the blanket; both you and your four-legged friend mesmerised by this man. You pondered your next few words, concerned that he might take it the wrong way. Worth a shot.
“I think I’ll call you… Hyun!” 
He beamed at your nickname for him, directing his attention to the way your hand rubbed your arms from the chill of the breeze. He cursed himself for not bringing a warmer jacket just so he could give it to you.
“Present, cuddles!” Jaehyun pointed in your direction and before long the fluffy golden had parked his bum on your lap and the warmth spread through you.
Your joyous reaction made Jaehyun’s insides melt, an overwhelming heart-warming feeling. You couldn’t tell but behind his composed demeanour laid a slightly nervous one; Jaehyun fiddled with his rings contemplating how to continue the conversation you were both so invested in.
In the process, a single ring flew off his pinky finger and rolled across your blanket, landing in front of you.
Leaning around Present, you picked it up with a sly smirk, you looked Jaehyun in the eye and muttered, more flirtatious than you had hoped… “Finders keepers.”
His glimmering eyes matched the cheeky grin that made its way across his features as placed the ring meant for his pinky on your index finger. His eyes lingered for a moment at the way your skin glowed a desirable shade of orange under the evening sun.
To both of your dismay, the night was looming over your conversation and you decided it was best if you and Luna headed home. The disappointment soon disappeared when Jaehyun spoke up.
“So, I guess I’ll see you again? – Uh, I mean, I-I think Present would like that…” His ears tinged a shade of deep pink and his hands flew up to pat them a bit in humiliation. You smiled, nodding enthusiastically at his question.
As you stood up and rolled up your blanket into your bag, you realised in the process you had managed to swap fluffy friends during your hours of conversation. As you picked up Present’s leash to give to Jaehyun, he was already doing the same with Luna.
He took hold of the end quickly as you went to reach for Luna, but was startled by his alternative intention.
Reaching his hand toward yours, his pinky confidently wrapped through the leash handle and around your own, holding it firmly. The action brought a mixture of a blush and shock in a wave across your features as you looked up at him.
Your gaze lingered on each other for a moment before Jaehyun spoke up with a content grin.
“Finders keepers.”
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wispandwhispers · 4 years
Text
Welcome to Monochromia!
Words: 2048
Previous | Next
Tw(s) : Cursing, Implied torture, getting disturbing commissions, talked about murder (Tell me if there is any to add)
Pairing(s) : Eventually Logicality, Dukeceit, Eventually Prinxiety.
Notes : I’ve had this idea on the back burner for so long and its finally here
"Zynx, how do you plan to secure the vote in the Fumi sector?"
"No comment."
"Zynx, how are you planning to make a comeback after Foster destroyed your chances of getting the majority ?"
"No comment."
"Zynx, is the rumours of you and Crownford sleeping together true?"
"I'm sorry but I'm not sure what you're talking about."
A limousine pulled up in front of the city hall and the chauffeur rolled down the window. A simple eye signal and he knew it was time to go.
"No more questions."
"Zynx a moment of your t-"
The chauffeur slammed the door of the limousine and started the planned safety-checked drive back to his boss' residence.
He looked in the mirror at his employer which a cheeky grin.
"I have a good feeling your sick of this question but how in fuck's name are you going to win this election? "
The passenger glared at his employee, clearly pissed.
"Do not test my patience Remy."
"Holy shit, you didn't say my full name, who are you and what have you done with Logan Zynx?"
"Just pass my yarn bag, I'm so fucking stressed."
Remy opened the compartment and chucked the medium sized light- blue pouch to the back.
"I don't understand why you don't you just go around firing people, snort crack, hate sex or whatever rich people do the wind down."
"I don't really know, this brings me peace for some reason."
The conversation died down and Logan got to work on stress knitting a new scarf/sock/ thing while Remy took the back route to his estate in the Prime sector with the sound of the radio in the background.
The usual daily announcements, the signal time, the weather update, the tired host annoying the news-
-Roman Crownford made headlines tonight when he was caught carrying election candidate, Logan Zynx in the bridal position . Rumours have emerged that the two are in a relationship and-
The driver's neck snapped back to stare at the person in the back seat.
"Spill."
"I don't speak slang."
"Fine, explain."
"I decided to go out for a drink, someone decided to spike it, woke up in my bed with this guy staring at me. That's what I can remember at least."
"Sounds like the start to some shitty rom-com."
-Footage can be seen of the actor carefully helping the politician get to his car to supposedly drive him home.
"Please turn that down, If I listen to that anymore I'll get a headache from the bullshit they are spewing. And I already have one from the debate so please."
Remy turn the dial anti-clockwise.
"Anyway, you need to be focusing on which is the best assassin in the area, I personally recommend Remus-"
In the mirror, the driver could see his employer's eyes sharpen in annoyance.
"I plan to win the election without murdering someone and even if I was to kill Patton, I would probably get caught anyway."
The limousine came to a halt.
"You better get inside, three minutes 'til the signal goes live."
Logan let himself out of the vehicle and faced the other
"I'm aware. That's why I wear a watch if you weren't aware."
Remy just shook his head.
"You're still the fucking antisocial nerd you were as a teen."
"And you were the same shade of black and white since you were twelve but I don't comment about it." Logan retorted as he started to walk to his door.
"Don't come for my kneecaps bitch, I'm being a queen in the colours I can see and I'm fucking proud of my basic bitch style."
"God you're so egotistical. Why am I friend with you again?"
"Your bad life decisions, not mine."
Logan heard the limousine drive off into the distance. He would assume the Remy would just listen to the signal in the car. And then promptly go and get a coffee to fuel his caffeine addiction that can never satisfied.
Logan walked into his house and sat down on his armchair. Cathrine climbed onto his lap but he's shooed her away. She always seemed to meow louder during the signal.
Your daily broadcast is about to begin, remember you can always t̙̰̖̲͔͈͚̱̞͙̐̇͋́̅̊̀̅̕͝ų̺̺̟͇͈͎̝̫̱̳̝͈̬͔̩̠̞̙͑̍͒̌̅͗̔͑̿̋̔͘̕̕̚̕͠͠͠r̡̧̧̛̟̺͍̘̘͉̞͔͇̭͍̮̒̋͆́̎̿̀̉́̏̊͘͘͜͠͡n̡̢̛̥̺̱̫͖̹̩̲̝̪͊̊̊͂̔̇͆̓̄̋̓̓ͅ i̢̱͕̮͎̺͓͂̒̊͂͒̏̍t̨̨̥̦̙̭̦̀̄̾̂̽̄͘ o̧̥̗͚̮͇̬̠̥̼̮̫͕̞̪̭̝̼̍͒̇̀̐̌̊͆́̐͂͒̀̋͌̌͐̕̚͜f̡̢̨̢̥̬̳͓̺̖͍͐͒̍̄̋̂̏͂̍̊̏̅͜f̛̹̱̜̥͇̜̥̙͇̻͍̙͈̱̈́̎͋̏̑̑͊́̌̓̓͗́́͟ ȧ̢̧̢̞̙̦͉̪͇̇̾̄̑̽̓̈́̾̓̌͟͜͝ͅẗ̜͎̖̰͖͉͇̦̥́̍̑̄̚͘͞͡͞ ä̡̫̰̪̰̖͕̲͙̲̝̘̤͎́̂̏̇̓̃̍̽̐́̚͘͢͞͡͡ǹ̢͇̙͇̙̯͎̬̟͖̪̥̹͔̙̿́̓̍̽̊͆̈̓̍̎̀̏͌͌͜͞ͅy͓̪̟̲̩̙͚̗̫͚̰̘̫͈͌̍̊̃̎̓͒̄̔͑͆̈̄͠ -
It cackled unholy sound, like the type static made but way worse and the device proceeded to go radio silent (no pun intended). Logan walked over to see if Cathrine had chewed through the wires again but she was curled up in a ball on the heater.
"I got this fixed not even a week ago, It can't be broken already.."
The box suddenly flickered back to life akin to a car engine. Logan sighed in relief, returning to his chair waiting for the-
Good evening lucky citizen, I am proud to interrupt your daily brainwashing in the hopes that you will heed my warning. Stop listening to the fucking signal or broadcast or wave or whatever you call it in your sector.This is probably the most idiotic thing that you have ever heard. I am fully aware. But also was that story our caregivers told us so we wouldn't cover our ears. So you listened through the hidden circle of hell that was the sound you heard. But you don't remember the pain and only the calm when it ended, don't you? In the very likely case you are currently at your mobile trying to report me., let me save you the hassle of trying to find a name. Call me-
Logan promptly ripped the radio cord out of the socket.
Pacing around his study slowly, trying to mentally recall a fact, he pulled out his phone and checked the time. The broadcast had ended the second he had pulled out the plug. He couldn't dwell on that. He typed in a number and let the waiting sound become his background noise until someone picked up.
"Patton, can I stay at yours for the night?"
*****
" Q.Quill. A twenty year old woman who grew up in godforsaken dump that is Fumi, clawed her way to the top and started to biggest drug empire in the city, who always has four weapons on her person at all times, the person whose body has never gotten more than a scratch before the person who dared to hurt her died was killed by her own hands and you killed her sneaking an acid bomb into her Big Mac. I'm surprised Duke. It's less creative than how you usually murder your target."
"You wound me Pip, when I joined this company I swore to myself that every single job I do , I would pour my hearty and soul into. There is no was in-"
"Let me guess, the acid is more than acid."
'Duke' gave a slick grin. "Wanna know what was in it?"
"Nah, I'm still traumatised from the hat job."
She passed a bag to the assassin.
"You know where to pick up your pay check from. Get the fuck out of my office..
Grabbing the sack, moonwalking on his hellys that Pip was convinced he was not wearing before, 'Duke' went to collect his earnings.
He rolled to the Shed, pick up the cash, stuffed a red hot poker into the eye of a guy who tried to mug him and continued on with his daily rout-
"Thomas!" Duke ran up to the named person and lifted him into the air. Then he slapped his face.
"Ow, what the fuck was that Re...," A frantic head shake for 'not the right time. "Duke .."
Thomas narrowed his eyebrows and pulled the Duke to the nearby alleyway. Thomas was going to speak but the other beat him to it.
"I slapped you, partially because I wanted to and because it's not safe to be around me at the moment because I kinda killed someone off duty so the Shed is probably after me and your dad will kill me if I get blood on your shirt and Janus is terrifying when pissed."
Thomas just stood back, taking a good moment to process the information.
"How did you get chosen to be an assassin?"
"Do you think I know?"
Duke perked his ears up. Footsteps. Very light and carefully planned ones as well.
"Ok Thomas, I'm got to play with people's intestines now, say hi to Janus for me and rennet that's nothing is illegal if you don't get caught!"Duke took out a sewing needle out of his pocket than had green thread.
Thomas felt sorry for the victims ,already starting to back out of the future crime scene.
"Sure!"
*********
Virgil stepped back from from his computer, questioning why he even decided to take commissions in the first place. And seeming from the email, this wasn't someone trying to fuck with him.
Time to get some moral support.
i'llburnifigointothesun: What would you do if a guy offered you one fucking million for a piece of fanart of them living out their romantic fantasies
FosterDawg: You don't need to do nsfw pieces. You're not a broke college student
i'llburnifigointothesun:Yeah, I've upgraded to a broke adult.
FosterDawg : So...Why are you nervous about this? You've drawn kisses before albeit it wasn't normally the most light hearted work but this isn't one of your triggers.
i'llburnifigointothesun: the condition is I have to hand paint this and they want it 'hyper-realistic'. i kinda don't want my hands to die.
FosterDawg : Kiddo, at the end of the day, it's your call if you want to do this or not.
i'llburnifigointothesun: it was such a dad thing to end that with an exclamation mark.
Virgil put down his phone, listened to the broadcast ,stared long and hard at his paintbrushes. After about half an hour he got out a canvas and pulled up reference images.
He gritted his teeth. "If they're lying, I'm about to going to sue."
*******
"Dad, I'm home!"
Thomas flung his backpack onto the floor, walking to the kitchen to partially look for his dad and partially to get the leftover pizza.
"Okay, he's still at work which means time for-"
"Thomas you can't watch Steven Universe re-runs until five in the morning again, you have your revision that you'll procrastinate and then panic a month before you the exam date in guilt of not studying."
The father had seemed to just manifest out of thin air, standing behind his son and the other couldn't tell if he had been there for an hour or two minutes.He rarely wore his emotions on his sleeve.
"Dad, I didn't ask you to peer into my soul.Also Remus says hi." He fiddled with the remote control, deciding what cartoon to binge watch .
The parent rushed to his son ,checking his face to see if was hurt. "Shit, you didn't see him kill or hurt anyone, right?"
"Yep!"
Janus let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. "Thank fuck, you can't be used as a witness."
Thomas walked over to the front door to retrieve his discarded backpack and took out his music theory notes. He scanned through the notes and then lowered his head in frustration."Why did I pick this class?"
"It seemed like a good decision at the time, for you and you just started your Hamilton phase." Janus saw his son staring over what he assumed was the homework. The due date was in a weeks time. He had an internal debate with himself and came to a decision.
"You know what, fuck that!," He chucked Thomas homework to the side. "Do what makes you happy tonight, you seem stressed and you should take time for yourself."
Thomas started at his dad for a few seconds and gave him a big hug. " Thanks, I kinda needed that.. This maybe a bad time but I kinda threw my tie-dye pride flag with your yellow dress shirts.
Janus stared at the other with a glare that could be sarcasm or could be anger. "Well, everything could be gayer."
The dad finally put down his hat on the coat stand and started to walk upstairs. "Remember to keep it down, I'll be live."
"Kay.."Thomas started his self care routine by microwaving the leftover pizza.
Taglist( Ask me if you want to be added):
@katlikethesword, @crinklesnuff
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obligatorynasty · 5 years
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The Weight of the Knife, Part 1: Edgeless
— Sequel to I’ll Be the Fight to Your Flight, Baby.��[Read on Tumblr | AO3]
Part: [1] [2] [3] | Read on: AO3 | WC: ~10k | Please excuse any typos.
Main Tags: BadBoy!Tony, Highschool AU, NFF, Angst, TW:Mentions of Blood, TW:Abuse, TW:Graphic Depictions of Violence, TW:Bullying, TW:Underage Drinking and Smoking, Bruises, Choking, [Read all tags on AO3]
Dedicated to @starker-stories, whose love for this AU kept me motivated to write more.
~*1*~
When Peter crossed the threshold into the Stark mansion, the first image that etched itself into his mind was the painting that hung in the foyer. It was massive; nearly covering a two-story wall from ceiling to floor. Adorned with an ornate frame, it stood out from its modern surroundings – partially due to the happy visage of Howard Stark and the even happier young Tony – but mainly due to the large white sheet draped over half of the frame. Peter could tell from the gentle feminine hand placed atop the young Tony's shoulder that it was his mother, Maria Stark, who was obscured. It was hard to fathom – covering a painting in such a blatant way – but watching Tony completely ignore it was even harder. The image was so ingrained that the impact Peter felt was nothing more than a diluted normalcy to Tony.
So Peter didn't bring it up. Instead, he made small talk about the twelve car garage and the unbelievable size of the chandelier that hung in the dining room. He remarked about the mansion’s eerie spotlessness; a feeling like no one lived there or, as Tony clarified, like a dozen house staff maintained the property. He chatted about the practically untouched furniture and how the polished marble tiles squeaked beneath their sneakers, echoing against the high ceilings, as they hurried to the lab. 
“Are you sure we’re allowed to be here, Tones?” Peter asked, each new step into the mansion scratching at his latent anxieties.
“Definitely not but that just makes it more fun, doesn’t it, baby?” 
Tony delivered the line with a heap of charm and that signature bad boy grin. He was so nonchalant, never bothered and always teasing. Sometimes Peter couldn’t believe he was dating the infamous bad boy; the fearsome fighter; the unhinged delinquent; Tony – fucking – Stark. Yet, in their six amazing months as a couple, Peter has had the pleasure of seeing him more as the remarkable genius, the hilarious car singer, and the loyal friend. Sure, Tony was a bad boy through and through but Peter had given him the space to be anything other than that and, so far, they were thriving because of it.
“Maybe it’s more fun for you, but I’m stressed. I’m anxious. I’m-” Peter was stunned into silence when Tony ushered him into the lab. The workspace was a sharp contrast to the rest of the house. It was cluttered; multiple workbenches and desks scattered with complex machinery and technological marvels. “I’m in heaven.” Peter sighed dreamily.
Tony laughed, leaning close, whispering in Peter’s ear a very flirty, “I know something else that could take you to heaven.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Tony!” Peter giggled, jumping away from his boyfriend, his face flushed pink. “We’re in your dad’s lab !” His laughter trailed off as he wandered the room. His nerd senses were on overdrive and his attention to everything else was waning in the face of all the robotic spectacles and hologram capabilities. 
“You’re right.” Tony threw his hands up in surrender. “Wouldn’t want to get caught in here.”
“Exactly,” Peter nodded, brows furrowing in focus as he examined a circuit board that seemed to be forgotten in a pile of desk clutter. “Are you sure your dad isn’t coming home any time soon?”
“I’m sure enough." Tony smiled, stepping forward to hook his arm around Peter’s shoulders. “But let’s stay focused, sweetheart. I promise I’ll show you around more next time.”
“Okay,” Peter pouted, ditching the circuit board and falling out of his tech-obsessed trance, allowing Tony to lead him to the large hologram screen at the center of the room. 
“Plus, we have that thing at your place later,” Tony said as he began navigating the screen with small flicks of his hand. “I just need to find one thing on this computer and then we can go to the... what exactly did Auntie call it again?”
“Our six month anniversary dinner extravaganza,” Peter punctuated each word with grand hand gestures, all coated in sarcasm. “Catered by chef May ,” Peter joked, mocking his aunt’s voice. “Why she thinks we care about things like that is beyond me.”
“Oh?” Tony glanced at his boyfriend with a raised brow and a sly smile. “But I got you a gift, baby.”
“No, you didn’t!” Peter laughed, playfully pushing against Tony’s shoulder. “You said we’d celebrate a year. You said that.” He paused, eyebrows momentarily knitting in concern, “Wait, you didn’t actually get me something, did you?”
“And what if I did?”
“I would obviously fall into an empty-handed panic.” Peter feigned terror, emphasizing his jest by throwing a dramatic hand against his forehead before letting his expression drop into a small pout. “But, really, did you get one?”
“Maybe, maybe not, but it’s not like I need a gift in return.” Tony stopped searching the console, glancing at Peter with suggestive eyes. “You can just let me fuck the lights out of my virgin boyfriend and we'll call it even.”
“Tony! Oh my-” Peter blushed, covering his face and laughing into his hands as the embarrassment bubbled within him. “O-Okay, first of all, MJ says virginity is a construct.”
“And as usual, she’s right,” Tony joined the laughter, shaking his head as his focus drifted back to the computer. “Virginity is a construct – and with all the shit we’ve done, calling you a virgin just wouldn’t do that mouth justice, sweetheart – but still, it doesn’t stop me from wanting to fuck you until you’re a mess.”
Peter froze, his cheeks going a deeper red at his boyfriend’s candid words and his mind running through memories of their most fervent makeout sessions. Like the time Tony used Peter’s mouth – just fucking used it however he wanted. Or the time he naively wondered how his boyfriend managed to last for so long and Tony proceeded to edge him for an hour. And Peter still got goosebumps whenever he thought about that time in Tony’s backseat when he first learned what frotting was. Fuck , he could go on forever but the soft touch of his boyfriend’s hand smoothing through his hair pulled his focus.
“I know we’re joking and shit but- will you...or I mean, do you want to?”
And Peter could tell by the way Tony averted his eyes, speaking so nervous and low, that the question was serious. So, for a moment, he considered if this was the right time to say yes; if this was the right time to go all the way. Yet, he struggled with that phrase – that right time and the inherent importance it somehow held. As if sex was a special frontier that he needed to cross with care. It was strange because although this type of sex was new, being sexual was not; being close to Tony was not; being intimate was not. There were far more important milestones to worry about, so why was his heart thrumming so loud at the mere thought of answering?
“Okay,” Peter finally spoke, solidifying his answer with a smile and a nod. “How about during the break? I-Is that okay?”
“Wait, for real?” Tony perked up, his expression beaming. “I mean, no pressure, baby. You don’t actually have to if you don’t want to, but if you want to – like really fucking want to, not some my-boyfriend-wants-to-so-I-want-to bullshit – then yes. Hell yes. The break is fucking perfect. It’s-”
“Okay, don’t get too excited,” Peter giggled, leaning against Tony’s shoulder and breathing in the older boy’s scent to calm his nerves. “I want to, so I’ll have to p-prep and stuff, but yeah- last day of school is in two days so we’ll have time this weekend to – I don’t know – focus on it, or I mean- um... fuck , talking about it like this is weird.”
Tony pressed a kiss to the top of Peter’s head, “First rule of fucking: Don’t do any fucking until you can actually talk about fucking.”
“Good tip,” Peter crossed his arms and grinned. “Should I credit Pepper or Bruce for that one?”
“Wow, excuse you,” Tony shook his head, mirroring Peter’s grin. “It was actually Rhodey. His dad taught him about sex stuff and he taught me.” His smile faded then, “I mean, it’s not like my old man would teach me anything about that shit anyway.”
Peter’s expression fell solemn, “The important thing is that you learned it, right?” He slipped a gentle hand underneath Tony’s leather jacket, rubbing comforting circles into the small of his back. “If it makes you feel any better, ever since we started dating, May won’t shut up about safe sex. Every morning, when I’m trying to have a peaceful breakfast, she’s there talking about condoms or lube or – oh my god – ‘anal cleanliness’ and I’m just mortified in front of my cheerios.”
“Glad to hear Auntie has been advocating for me to get my dick wet.”
“Oh god,” Peter shook his head, gripping his sides from laughter. “Do not say Auntie and dick wet in the same sentence!”
Tony laughed, “I was just- oh shit, hold up, I found it,” Tony focused on the screen, quickly moving to transfer the file to his phone. 
Peter leaned in to get a closer look, “Found what exactly?”
“The file I need to upgrade Jarvis.”
“Wait, why do you need your dad’s file to upgrade Jarvis?”
“It’s less of an upgrade and more of a key... well, it’s not really that either,” Tony explained. “My dad has this elaborate dynamic encryption protecting the Stark Industries file system and, where Jarvis is right now, he doesn’t have the processing power to brute force the encryption before a new key is set.”
“Oh!” Peter joyfully interrupted, “And this file will give Jarvis access to the encryption key, which would, in theory, give you access every time the encryption algorithm changes to a new key.”
“Fuck, baby, you really know how to turn a guy on.” Tony playful bit his lip and wiggled his eyebrows at Peter.
“Tony!” Peter blushed, rolling his eyes with a smile. “Seriously.”
“Sorry, couldn’t help it,” Tony laughed, turning his attention back to the downloading file. “But you’re almost right. This file is the encryption algorithm so by having Jarvis learn this, he should be able to learn not only how to break in, but also how to predict any improvements made to it.”
“So you’ll never be locked out of Stark Industries again.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Now that’s something to get turned on about.”
Tony raised his brow and turned towards Peter, placing a gentle hand on the younger boy’s hips. “Am I making you hot and bothered, sweetheart?”
“Maybe a little,” Peter softly spoke, bracing himself on Tony’s arms as he was hoisted up onto a desk. “What are you going to do about it?”
“What am I not going to do?” Tony playfully whispered as he stepped between Peter’s knees, wrapping his arms around Peter’s svelte frame, pulling their chests together and closing the gap between their lips.
Whenever they kissed, Peter was reminded of their first. He was reminded of how nervous he was; how bashful; how shaky. Sitting in his bedroom with his face cupped in Tony’s hands, feeling that heated closeness and the warm breath tickling his lips. Their first kiss was tender, slow, and full of emotion. It was so different from the kiss they shared now.
This kiss was frantic and hungry, filled with emotion but fueled by lust. Their lips crashing together like being apart was agony and their hands exploring every inch of exposed flesh, just aching to dip beneath hems and seams. Peter had gained confidence in kissing, even when open-mouthed and graced by tongue. Threading his fingers through Tony's hair had become commonplace and moaning into Tony's mouth was a thoughtless eventuality. A few months ago, he would have cringed at the thought of making such needy sounds but now, he reveled in it. 
Not a lot made him nervous these days. His stutter was practically gone and his skittish nature seldom made an appearance. Something about facing his bullies head-on just changed him. He was the picture of courage, dauntless and bold, the most fearless…
Oh fuck. Peter was dragged from his thoughts by the electric sensation of Tony’s hand on his nipple, pinching and rubbing at the tender nub as the kiss became rougher. Tony tugged Peter’s bottom lip through his teeth, pleasantly groaning at the satisfied expression on the younger boy's face.
Peter gasped, dipping his head down to hide his surely flushed cheeks and clutching at Tony’s leather sleeves like they were the ground that kept him from short-circuiting. “T-Tony, th-that um - that’s-”
“What is it, baby?” Tony gave a smug grin, bringing a hand up beneath Peter’s jaw, gradually squeezing as he guided Peter’s gaze to his. “Go on, tell me.”
And all Peter could do was whine, shakily and through a strained breath. The lightheaded rush of being choked and the mere presence of Tony’s touch making him bulge in his jeans. His hands trembled where they grasped and his eyes yearned for more. So Tony gave a final hard squeeze before pulling his hand away, opting to grab a handful of Peter’s curls. “I asked you a question, sweetheart.”
“T-Tony, I-I’m- um ...i-it’s-” Peter stuttered, falling back into his nerves like they were never really gone. “It’s g-good.”
“There you are,” Tony whispered, a mischievous smile working its way to his lips as he grazed his fingertips against the hardness just beyond Peter’s zipper. “All nervous and cute just for me.”
The only response Peter could muster was a high-pitched Mhmm and a slight pull on Tony’s sleeves, making the older boy lean in for another kiss – and holy shit was it a really fucking good kiss.
So good that the Jarvis alert was background noise and the click of the door handle was their first indicator that Tony’s dad had arrived. The sound made Tony’s shoulders go rigid as he recoiled away from Peter, quickly closing the hologram console before glaring at the door with tension in his eyes. 
Howard stepped into the room, dressed in slacks and a button-up shirt with rolled sleeves and a loose tie. His face was cast in a five o’clock shadow. His eyes were dark – darker than each swig of whiskey from the glass he cradled in his left hand. “So this is your newest boy toy, Anthony?” He shook his head, “I’ve got to say, I’m underwhelmed by this one.”
“ Don’t call him that.” Tony practically growled, his voice taut and his tone a bit deeper.
This was the first time Peter has ever seen Tony and his dad interact. It was shocking – petrifying, really – enough to kill all arousal and compel him to absolute silence. 
Tony was seething, even more than usual, but Howard just laughed, short and belittling, “Of course, you would be more passionate about a slut like this than the company. Predictable as ever, Anthony.”
“Fuck you,” Tony spoke through clenched teeth. 
And from his place at Tony’s side, Peter could tell that the older boy’s knuckles were starting to lose color from how tightly he balled his fists. He could see that Tony was shaking beneath that leather like a boiling pot, brimming with fury and rage. He knew that Howard’s spiteful baiting was bound to make that anger boil over. 
Howard audibly tsked, downing the remaining whiskey in one large swig. And for a moment, the room was still, filled only with the sound of breath and the tick of a clock, when suddenly, it wasn’t. Howard spiked the glass against the floor. The shattering glass and subsequent splay of shards against tile cut through the lab and shook Peter to his very core. The erratic behavior eroding any doubt Peter held about Howard’s presence; imposing and threatening as it was, like watching a carnivore tear through his dinner. 
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Howard asked, his voice deep and menacing. 
And Peter thought that would be it. He thought Tony would boil over with anger, yell at his father for speaking to him like that; for acting like that. He thought Tony wouldn’t stand for it.
He was wrong.
“Nothing,” Tony shook his head and grabbed Peter by the wrist, radiating a feeling that Peter knew all too well. The fearsome bad boy was scared ; so scared that his hand began to tremble where it gripped; so scared that he started towards the lab doors with Peter in tow. Tony – never lost a fight – Stark was so scared that he was choosing flight and that alone was terrifying.
Without so much as a glimpse in his father’s direction, they rushed towards the doors. Nearly there, nearly escaped. Yet, in those few seconds, in those few breaths, in those few strides, Peter learned what made Howard Stark so dangerous.
“Always a coward, just like your mother.”
Tony flinched, his muscles tensing and his grip tightening on Peter’s wrist. “Don’t talk about her like that.” He spoke low, scared but provoked, thrashing in his father’s trap.
“Like what? Like the waste of space she was?” Howard scoffed. “All she did was birth a useless criminal son and left when she couldn’t deal with the pressure of raising you.”
And it was like throwing a grenade into a bonfire.
“She left because of you!” Tony exploded, screaming loud enough to rival the impact of the shattered glass.
Slap!
It was faster than Peter could process but the echo of Howard’s hand connecting with Tony’s cheek rang in his ears. Fear and anger ricocheted through his body like lightning in a bottle; yet, he could do nothing but watch. Watch how quickly Tony was shaken from his anger like a knife whose edge had dulled. Watch how unapologetic Howard was; how sickeningly pleased he was with Tony’s prompt obedience. Watch firsthand just how twisted Tony’s life at home was.
It was silent for a few heartbeats, then Tony gripped Peter’s wrist even harder than before and pulled him out of the lab. Walking with urgency and leaving behind the callous laughter of his father. 
“Tony,” Peter whispered, his fingers feeling prickly as the feeling started to fade from the pressure of Tony’s hold. “Tony, um-” He struggled to speak as he was practically dragged towards the front door. “Tony, my hand, you’re-!” He tried pulling against Tony’s strength but to no avail. So he planted his heels when they reached the foyer and the force of Tony’s momentum caused them both to trip forward. “Tony!”
“What the fuck are you doing?!” Tony screamed, grabbing Peter by his upper arm and looking at him with the same frustrated expression that he showed his father. “We need to fucking go!”
Peter’s eyes went wide, a twinge of fear bubbling in his chest before anger overtook it. “You were hurting me!” Peter snapped back, yanking his arm away and marching passed Tony, heading towards the car. 
“I- fuck , Peter, I didn’t-” Tony frustratingly ran his hands through his hair, following Peter into the garage. 
“Don’t,” Peter interrupted, raising his palm.
“Why didn’t you just say something?!” Tony yelled, still fuming as he slid into the driver’s seat. 
“I tried too!” Peter yelled back, slamming the car door on his way in and training his eyes out the window, trying to ignore the tension and the dull pain of the bruise on his wrist. “Can you just drive me home?”
Tony inhaled sharp, “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“That-!” Tony stopped himself and took a deep breath, finally dropping his tone. “Whatever.”
“Great, now you’re whatever-ing me,” Peter mumbled, crossing his arms and gripping his sides in a self-hug. He could feel his emotions in his throat, shaking and threatening to burst, and as he leaned his head against the window, he bit the inside of his lip to keep them at bay.
“If you don’t want to talk, then we’re not going to talk.”
“I never said that I didn’t want to talk.” Peter sniffled – fuck , he thought, as a single tear managed to escape. “I-I just don’t appreciate you t-taking out your anger on me.”
“I’m not!” Tony snapped again.
Peter’s voice was shaky, “T-Then why are you still yelling?”
“Because-!” Tony had a vice grip on the steering wheel, his face a blend of anger and fear and regret. “Because he fucking says shit just to get under my skin and he calls you all these fucked up things and ignores that you’re there and just fucking-” He paused, dropping his forehead against the wheel as well. “I just...”
The sight of Tony struggling made Peter’s heart hurt, but the sound of Tony’s sadness went beyond it. “You just?”
“Nevermind.”
“No, Tones. Don’t do that. Talk to me. I’m-”
“Drop it, Peter.” Tony started the car, ending the conversation like Peter stepped on his toes.
Then, they drove in silence. An awkward and deafening kind of silence – filled with the hum of Tony’s engine and whoosh of the passing scenery – but deafening nonetheless. The peeved energy radiating off of the older boy was familiar but, this time, it wasn’t remedied with silly lip-synced rock ‘n’ roll. No, this was different from those times. Peter couldn’t help but feel tense and, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t stop the way his body shook beneath that fact.
When they arrived at the apartment, the air in the car was so stifling that stepping out into the evening breeze was jarring. Peter tried on a smile, holding the car door open as he spoke, “Are you still coming in for the dinner thing?”
“No.” Tony kept his response short with his lips pressed in a hard line and his eyes fixed on the windshield. “See you at school tomorrow.”
And Peter parted his lips but no words came. So he shut his mouth and the car door, watching from his place on the curb as Tony drove away. For a short while, he stood there, inhaling deep breaths to stave off the tears, but soon, the patter of rain gave him cause to walk inside. 
The apartment was filled with the savory scent of pizza and the sounds of the evening news. It was warm and bright and there was confetti trailing from the front door to the dining table. Taped to the entryway wall was a sign, printed on multiple sheets of white printer paper, that read ‘ Happy 6-Month Extravaganz ’ with a sloppy letter ‘A’ scrawled on a sticky note at the end. 
And Peter didn’t know much more his heart could take.
“Hey boys, I ordered pizza! You wouldn’t believe the fight I had with the office copy machine! It was-” As May rounded the corner and saw the look on Peter’s face, she paused. “Oh, Peter, what happened?”
“Nothing,” Peter shook his head. “This all looks great, thanks Aunt May.” He smiled but even he couldn’t deny the feeling of wetness against his cheeks – he blamed the rain.
“How about some pizza?” May gave a small smile, moving to pull the sign down. “We can eat and watch some movies together. How’s that sound?”
“No, I’m- I’m tired and I’ve got- um, homework to finish up,” Peter sniffled, involuntarily using his sleeve to wick away his sadness. “So I’m just going to go to my room. Night May.”
~*2*~
“Okay, I’m just going to say it,” MJ shook her head, tossing her books into her locker, staring her best friend squarely in the face. “You look like shit.”
And Peter, whose eyes were puffy and whose shoulders were slumped and whose only form of expression came through exasperated sighs, gazed at MJ with tired eyes, “I know.”
“What happened, dude?” Ned questioned, slamming his locker closed and moving to put a comforting hand on Peter’s shoulder.
“A lot,” Peter dropped his forehead against his locker. “A lot happened.”
“Want to talk about it?” MJ offered, her eyes shrouded in sympathy.
Peter sighed, slowly shaking his head, “Not even a little.”
“Well, well, what do we have here?” It was Natasha’s voice, like nails being hammered into Peter’s sanity. “Why so blue? Did your psychotic dog run away?” She laughed, “Maybe for some other twink? Or – what did Loki say? – plaything , right?”
“Nat, stop,” Clint grabbed her arm, trying to pull her away from Peter’s group.
“No,” Natasha resisted, shaking her arm free, a smirk perched on her lips like she was invincible. “Didn’t see Tony with you this morning either. Did he get tired of his bitch?”
“Nat, fucking chill,” Clint whispered under his breath, trying once again to pull her away. “She doesn’t mean it guys. We’re sorry. Come on, Nat!”
“ Sorry? I’m not fucking sorry. ” Natasha scoffed, “Looks like he’s all alone today, maybe we should text Loki, see what he thinks about that.”
“Are you done?” MJ interrupted, glaring at the pair of bullies with her arms crossed.
“Not talking to you,” Natasha sassed, rolling her eyes at MJ. “I’m talking to bitch boy over here.”
Peter inhaled slow, calming the nerves that sat at the back of his mind. “Text them,” He challenged, lifting his forehead from his locker and turning to face Natasha with a bored expression. “Do it. I dare you. Go ahead and see what happens.”
And Natasha, with all of her brazen snark, was taken aback by Peter’s abnormally quick response. “Whatever, you’re not worth my time.” 
“ Whatever, you’re not worth my time. ” Peter mocked, his face unfazed despite the speed of his anxiously racing heart or the force of his grip on the seam in his pocket. “You’re not worth my time, Red.”
“Dude,” Ned held back a laugh, but MJ had no such control; her laughter pulled the attention of curious hallway students, including a guy Peter has never seen before. He was tall and a bit muscular, sporting a denim jacket and staring at Peter with a confidence a bit too reminiscent of Tony’s. It was weird, like locking eyes with a much more smiley and bright version of Tony. Why was this guy staring at him like that anyway? Peter didn’t have the energy to question it; besides, all his attention should be on not getting beat up again.
“Nat, stop fucking around, let’s go,” Clint didn’t give in this time, placing a firm hand in hers and walking away with her in tow.
“Fuck you, bitch. Stark can’t protect you forever!” Natasha’s final words, topped off with a flip of her middle finger, as she disappeared down the hall.
Peter gave a relieved sigh, hand over his heart like he narrowly escaped death, “I think I’m going to pass out.”
“Well, don’t,” Ned laughed. “That was fucking awesome, dude. Very Tony Stark of you.”
“Guess that’s what happens when you move up the food chain,” MJ joked. “Suck Tony Stark’s dick for protection one time and the whole school becomes your bitch.”
“We both know he’s sucked that dick more than once,” Ned smirked, bumping his arm against MJ’s.
“Please stop,” Peter rolled his eyes and started towards the lunchroom, “Let’s just go eat.”
MJ laughed, moving to walk beside Peter, “Where is Tony today anyway?”
“Yeah, he’s usually at your locker before lunch starts,” Ned added. 
“Like I said,” Peter sighed. “ A lot happened.”
“Oh, okay, fair enough,” MJ shrugged as they entered the lunchroom. “No further questions.”
“Well, I have a question,” Ned interjected, following behind Peter to the lunch line. “What the fuck are we doing for the break?” He posed the question with urgent eyes. “Because, and I don’t want to alarm anyone, but we have got to be the only juniors without spring break plans.” 
“Oh no, not that.” MJ feigned surprise, her eyes bored and her voice monotonous but not even her eye roll could stop Ned’s enthusiasm.
“Oh no is right, MJ! Peter, are your cool friends doing anything?”
“My cool friends?” Peter squinted as he grabbed a tray and moved down the line, unimpressed by the high school food but too exhausted to complain.
MJ snorted, “He means the big buff trio.”
Well, even Peter had to smile at that, “You mean Steve, Sam, and Bucky?”
“MJ, that codename is for private correspondence only,” Ned joked. “But yeah, have they roped you into any plans yet?”
“I don’t know,” Peter shrugged as they exited the line, surveying the lunchroom for Steve’s table and locking eyes with a waving Bucky. “Let’s go ask.”
“What?” Ned’s eyebrows flew upward. “You’re bringing us to sit with Steve Rogers?”
“I guess I am,” Peter gave a small grin. “I’ve got to introduce my cool friends to my new friends eventually, right?”
Ned dramatically gasped, “When did my best friend become so smooth?”
“He was always this smooth,” MJ laughed, following Peter to the table.
“Hey Peter,” Bucky smiled, gesturing to some empty chairs. “And MJ and Ned, right?”
“Yeah,” MJ said as she sat. “Nice to finally meet you guys.”
“Likewise,” Steve said before shooting Peter a skeptical look. “Hey Pete, where’s Tony?”
“Not sure,” Peter clenched his jaw, biting on the inside of his lip to stave off his lingering emotions, preparing himself to make excuses. “He’s probably just skipping today. No big deal.” He waved away any hint of sadness, replacing it instead with an over-enthused – and clearly forced – smile. “Anyway, we were talking about spring break, right Ned?”
“Right,” Ned said, blinking a few times before shaking his head. “Right!” He dropped his hands against the lunch table, pulling everyone’s attention – leave it to him to always have Peter’s back. “Spring break is next week, guys. Do you have any plans?”
“Well, me and the guys usually visit my family’s beach house,” Steve answered.
“How big is the house?” MJ asked.
“Oh, the house is huge,” Bucky assured. “If people doubled up in the beds, it could probably sleep like twelve people.”
“Did you guys want to come with us?” Steve offered. “We could make it a party. Tony could bring his friends too. What do you think, Pete?”
Peter was distracted, idly pushing food around his lunch tray and staring into the abyss of students. His mind wandered through yesterday’s events, silently wishing they never happened. He wondered where Tony was; where Tony had been all morning. It was like him to skip classes but never lunch. It was the only school period they shared. What was happening?
“Peter!” MJ snapped him from his thoughts. “You there?”
“O-Oh, what? Sorry, um- what were you-?”
“Spring break party at Steve’s beach house with all of us and Tony’s crew?” MJ summarized. “That sound good?”
“Yeah, probably,” Peter nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
“Great, then I’ll ask my parents if we can use the house and let you guys know what they say on Friday.”
“Thanks, Steve,” Ned excitedly said.
And the conversation went from there. Planning about what food to bring, what alcohol was the best, what games they would play. Some great mingling between mutual friends that Peter was barely present for. He was so in his own head that he didn’t realize who was approaching the table.
“Hey.”
Peter lifted his head, surprised to find that the voice belonged to the guy from the hallway, who was pulling up a chair to sit beside him. “Um...hey?”
“What’s your name, kid?”
“Definitely not kid .” Peter raised his eyebrow. “Who’s asking?”
The guy laughed, “My name’s Quentin – Quentin Beck – and I saw you, in the hallway, telling that girl off and I knew I needed to introduce myself.”
“Wait. That girl? ” MJ interrupted, looking just as confused as the rest of the table. “You don’t know who Natasha Romanoff is? Who are you?”
“Oh, I’m new here. Just transferred today. Nice to meet you guys,” Quentin was courteous, making eye contact with each person at the table before focusing his attention solely on Peter. “Especially you, kid.”
“Peter,” He introduced himself, feeling a bit uneasy with the unfamiliar attention.
“It suits you,” Quentin gave a bright smile. “Your shirt is also pretty funny.”
Peter furrowed his brow, so unsure about what shirt he threw on today that he had to glance down. Peaking between his unbuttoned plaid shirt was his ‘ if you believe in telekinesis, please raise my hand ’ t-shirt. A classic. Peter let out a light huff of breath that ended in the smallest of smiles, “Thanks. It’s actually my favorite one.”
Quentin gave a small laugh of his own, looking at Peter with adoration, “Suddenly, it’s my favorite too.”
“U-Um...you look good too,” Peter clumsily reciprocated. “I mean, your jacket is really cool.”
“You’re really cool,” Quentin shot back with a grin.
“O-kay!” Ned loudly interrupted, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get back to the spring break plans.”
“Agreed,” MJ nodded, staring at Peter with the strongest what-the-fuck-are-you-doing look. “Peter, do you think your boyfriend would mind driving?”
“ Boy friend, huh?” Quentin smirked, not looking away from Peter for even a second. “Glad to know we’re teammates, Peter.”
The line made Sam and Bucky burst into laughter. “Steve, you need to take some notes,” Bucky joked, smiling at Steve, who laughed as well.
“And you better be careful, new kid,” Sam warned, pointing towards the cafeteria doors. “Tony is literally coming this way.”
Peter perked up, surprised to see Tony sauntering towards them. The bad boy’s presence brought the lunchroom to a grinding halt and only when he made it to Peter’s table, did it resume. 
“Move,” Tony spoke directly to Quentin.
“Um...no,” Quentin snorted, seemingly unbothered. “Don’t be a dick. Just get another chair. I’m talking to Peter.”
Everyone, even Peter, was stunned by Quentin’s blind confidence. Tony, however, was immediately set off. “ The fuck? ” Tony cursed as he grabbed Quentin by the jacket collar and effortlessly yanked him up from the chair. “It wasn’t a fucking question.”
“T-Tony! Stop,” Peter promptly stood, pulling Tony’s hand away from the denim. “He didn’t mean it.”
“What?” Tony gave Peter an incredulous look. “Who the fuck is this guy to you?” He moved forward, shoving Quentin back a step. It was all the cafeteria crowd needed to be fully tuned in. Enraptured by the actions of the notorious bad boy and what seemed to be his latest target: a very confused Quentin Beck. A second shove had people whispering, but a third had them outright rowdy with their phones primed to spread the brawl to everyone in the school.
“Tony, stop it !” Peter snapped, his voice low but serious, immediately compelling Tony’s focus. “Hallway,” He demanded before walking off.
Tony tsk ed but followed with his hands shoved in his pockets and anger lingering his eyes. All the way to the empty hallway, where Peter now stood, arms crossed and disappointed, “What is going on with you?”
“Who the fuck was that?” Tony fumed.
“Nobod- wait, no, I-I’m asking the questions,” Peter stressed. “Why are you so on edge?”
“You know why.”
“Actually, no. I really don’t.” Peter pointed out. “You told me to drop it , remember.”
“Not that- fuck, that’s not what I meant.” Tony let out a frustrated sigh.
“Then what did you mean, Tony? Because skipping out on dinner really sends a clear message.” Peter could feel a sting in his eyes. “I’m so confused and hurt and I was looking for you all day today and you finally show up but you’re not even here for me. You just came to cause trouble, didn’t you?”
“No, Peter, that’s-” Tony stepped forward, grabbing Peter’s hand. “I am here for you. I only ever come to this fucking place for you.” He shook his head, “I didn’t want to fight, I just- Why would you even think that?”
Without warning, the lunchroom doors swung open and Quentin emerged, “Oh, sorry, am I interrupting something?”
“Yes!” Tony yelled, in sync with Peter’s very annoyed, “No.”
Peter pulled his hand from Tony’s, “Did you need something, Quentin?”
“Oh, um- I just wanted to say sorry for what I said in there,” Quentin seemed apologetic, looking at Tony with remorse in his eyes. “I didn’t realize that you were Peter’s boyfriend. I overstepped. Sorry, man.”
It appeared a sincere apology, but Tony remained silent.
“Tony, he’s apologizing ,” Peter emphasized.
“So?”
“You’re unbelievable,” Peter whispered, shaking his head and moving towards the lunchroom doors. “I don’t want to talk anymore. Skip the rest of the day for all I care.”
And Tony did just that.
~*3*~
When Peter said skip all day, he didn’t think Tony actually would. He was convinced that, despite the tension, his boyfriend would follow their normal routine. On a regular day, Tony would be there within minutes of the buses leaving, ready to drive him home. So Peter stood outside the school, hopefully waiting for his boyfriend to pick him up. Yet, as the minutes ticked by and the school became emptier, Peter realized that Tony wasn’t coming.
Left with no choice, Peter started the walk home, just as he’d done countless times before; trekked the three miles whenever the weather was nice or he missed the bus. After all, getting driven around by his boyfriend every day would make him lazy. There was no harm in putting feet to the concrete, exercising his legs, inhaling some fresh air. No, the harm started after the first two blocks, when the sky decided on rain and not just any rain – no, this was soak-through-a-backpack , fuck-you-Peter kind of rain.
And Peter nearly screamed, his frustrations pooling as he dashed to take shelter beneath a storefront awning. In the cover, he dropped his head into his palms, convinced that the universe hated him. He didn’t have an umbrella, he didn’t have anyone to pick him up, and no matter how much optimism he tried to muster, he knew an hour-long walk in the pouring rain would break him.
Beep!
A car horn close enough to Tony’s that Peter’s whole body experienced a wave of happiness but, as he lifted his head, the wave dissipated. The car wasn’t Tony’s or MJ’s or Steve’s. Just an ordinary sedan that he was set to ignore, but then, the windows rolled down.
“Well, if it isn’t Tony Stark’s plaything.” It was Loki, parking the car against the curb and stepping out into the rain with vengeance in his eyes. “Where’s Stark?”
Shit. Peter tensed, “Fuck off, Loki. Tony’s on his way.” A bold-faced lie – one he wished were true; one he hoped appeared as true.
“Is he?” Loki smirked deviously, moving closer and closer to Peter, “You see, I received a quite interesting text from Natasha today.” He cracked his knuckles, “What was it you said to me that night? Touch me again and I’ll have him break the other one ?” He recalled, standing inches away from Peter. “Now, that only works if you actually have a him , doesn’t it?”
Yeah, the universe definitely hates me. Peter thought, inhaling sharply as regret seeped through his body and he backed against the brick of the storefront. The very thing he tried so hard to contain swarming to the surface: fear. “Don’t come near me! T-Tony will find out! H-He’ll know, he-”
“There’s the Parker I know,” Loki smirked, grabbing Peter by his collar, “Once a scared little bitch, always a scared little bitch.” He gave a dark laugh as he slammed Peter against the brick with one hand. The other winding into a fist and poised to deliver a punch.
And Peter closed his eyes, relaxed his jaw, and prepared for the inevitable, a pit in his stomach from knowing Tony wouldn’t be saving him. He wanted to cry.
“Hey! Get off of him!” 
A perfectly timed interruption that stopped Loki in his tracks and filled Peter with a thankful relief. It was Quentin, emerging from an expensive, tinted-windowed sports car and bolting towards them without hesitation. With his fists balled and ready to defend, he promptly stepped between them, shoving Loki back a few steps.
Quentin’s serious eyes were striking, especially when paired with that confident grin and the way he hovered his fists like a trained fighter squares up for a brawl. Or the way he pulled off that denim jacket and draped it over Peter’s head like he was protecting something important. Or the way he so reassuringly affirmed that Peter would be fine, so hold this for me, kid. I’ll handle this.
And Peter would be lying if he said it didn’t remind him of Tony.
However, what happened next was nothing like the notorious bad boy. Quentin wasn’t a violent fighter. Though Peter appreciated the protection, the way Quentin fought was boring. He didn’t seem to enjoy the conflict – in fact, he only threw punches when Loki threw them. He was clearly trained but instead of a self-serving show of brutality, he leaned toward ending it as cleanly as possible. In the end, Loki stopped the fight. Not because he was dazed or bruised or bloody, but because Quentin’s resolve was stronger.
And much like Natasha, Loki left Peter with a warning before driving off. “Sooner or later, you’ll run out of assholes to protect you, Parker. And you and I both know that a scared little bitch like you can’t protect yourself.”
Quentin exhaled, winded from the fight and thoroughly soaked with rain, but smiling bright nonetheless. “Hey, Peter! Do you need a ride somewhere?”
Maybe the universe didn’t hate him after all. “Y-Yes!” Peter spared no time in rushing to Quentin’s car and following him inside. “You’re a lifesaver, Quentin.” He said as he shed his wet clothes, denim jacket first, plaid long sleeve second.
“Beck.”
“Hm?”
“My good friends call me Beck.” Quentin smiled, slicking his wet hair away from his forehead.
“Oh,” Peter nodded. “Beck, then. ” He sighed, leaning back against the seat, thankful for the heat pumping through its vents. “Thanks for helping me out.”
“No need to thank me. I’m just glad I showed up when I did,” Quentin gestured to Peter’s wrist. “Before he could do anything else.”
Peter flinched, covering his bruised wrist like he was caught doing something wrong, “This was- um...yeah, I’m glad too.”
Quentin furrowed his brow, “Who was that anyway? And that Natasha girl too?”
“That was Loki,” Peter sighed, “They’re my... enemies , I guess?”
“Enemies?” Quentin gave a soft laugh, “That’s pretty intense. What’d they do?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Try me.”
“No, I don’t like getting too much into it,” Peter shook his head. “I was duped and Tony helped me. Let’s leave it at that.”
“Tony helped you, huh?” Quentin repeated, clearly annoyed. “Then where was he just now?”
“He was just busy today.” Peter was making excuses. Again.
“Too busy to protect his boyfriend?” Quentin scoffed. “If you were my boyfriend, I would protect you all the time. No matter what, even if we had some stupid argument at school.”
Peter’s eyes went wide at Quentin’s sentiment, “We weren’t arguing. We were just-”
“I’m not blind, Peter,” Quentin interrupted. “I heard you both fighting in the hall. Tony seems quick to anger and, honestly, you don’t deserve that.”
Peter crossed his arms and stared out the window, “And how do you know what I deserve?”
“I don’t, but I know you don’t deserve a guy that would leave you stranded in the rain.” Quentin sighed, “Look, I can tell you’re upset, so I’ll drop it for now, but at least think about what I said, okay?”
Peter glanced over to Quentin, whose eyes seemed so genuine that he felt bad for being annoyed. “Okay,” He nodded, relaxing his arms, feeling a bit embarrassed for being so peeved. “Um...so, your car is... nice.”
“Thank you. It belongs to my parents,” Quentin gave a bashful laugh. “I couldn’t find my bus stop this morning and when I finally got there, I missed the bus so I took the car.”
“Without telling them?” Peter rose his brow.
“Without telling them,” Quentin slowly repeated with a grin. “I’m definitely going to be in some deep shit so let’s enjoy it while it lasts.” He pressed a button to the right of the gearshift, “Seat warmers,” He said as he pressed another button, switching on the radio and filling the car with the low hum of rock music. “Surround sound and–” Another button. “Self-driving navigation. Put your address in and we’re all set.”
“Wow, this is my first time in one of these,” Peter mentioned as he inputted his address on the touch screen. “There. Did that work?”
“Perfectly.” Quentin nodded as he started the ride and the car pulled away from the curb. “Now, sit back, relax, and enjoy your warmed butt. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Peter almost laughed at that one – almost – instead, he took the advice. He relaxed, soaking in the warmth and peacefully listening to the radio mixed with the pitter-patter of the rain. But then an AC/DC track played. “Can we skip this one?”
“Not in a ‘Shoot to Thrill’ kind of mood?” Quentin asked as he skipped the song.
Peter shook his head, leaning forward slightly, “It’s not that...it’s other stuff.”
“Does this other stuff wear leather and have a surprisingly high grip strength?”
“Yeah,” Peter nodded, “By the way, sorry he did that to you.”
“No worries,” Quentin shook his head. “Let’s not talk about him. I want to know more about the kid, Peter Parker.” 
“I am not a kid,” Peter lightheartedly complained. “We’re probably like one year apart.”
“I know but you get so worked up over it,” Quentin grinned. “I can’t help it.”
Peter sighed but smiled, “Fine, what do you want to know?”
Quentin beamed, “Do you have any hobbies?”
“Comics, I guess,” Peter answered. “I have a collection up in my room.”
Quentin gasped, “Can I come in and see it?”
“Sure, I guess.”
And when they arrived at Peter's apartment and ventured into his room, talking about comic books turned to playing video games for a few hours. And that turned to homework together and raiding the fridge for snacks. Chats about sharing interests turned to lending comic books, which very quickly turned to hey, Beck, do you want to come on our spring break trip? Somehow, it all turned Peter’s awful day into something a little brighter.
“Thanks for hanging out today, Beck,” Peter flashed a quick smile, leaning against the door frame.
Quentin smirked, “And thank you for the comic book. I promise to bring it back with all its pages and exactly one unidentifiable snack stain.”
Peter laughed, an honest laugh, “Sounds good.”
“Wow,” Quentin smiled, moving his hand to gently tilt Peter’s chin upward, “Your laugh is really cute, Peter.”
“W-What?” Peter blushed – what the fuck? blushed? – he pulled away, quickly laughing it off like one big joke. “My laugh is actually quite manly.”
“Anything you say, kid.” Quentin gave Peter one last smile before turning to head down the hall. “See you tomorrow!”
“See you!” And as he closed the apartment door, Peter scoffed but there was no denying the smile on his face; no denying that Quentin’s company had cheered him up.
Just as Peter turned to head to his room, the door opened again. It was May, “Hey Peter, who was that boy in the hall?”
“His name’s Quentin,” Peter answered. “He gave me a ride home today.”
“He was here until now?” May glanced at her watch. “It’s past seven. What about Tony?”
Right. Tony.  
Peter sighed, the flurry of negative emotions washing back over him at the mere mention of his boyfriend’s name. “What about Tony?” He mumbled, stalking into his room like the moody teenager he was.
~*4*~
The next morning was just as rough as the last but, at least, the sun was up today. Peter rode the bus to school, thankful that the ride was quiet despite the rumors that were starting to brew. According to a very frantic text from Ned this morning, students were starting to gossip about his relationship. The question at the center of speculation: are Tony and Peter breaking up? And it hurt to not know if that speculation was justified. After all, they had been arguing a lot and tensions were high.
Peter sighed as he stepped off the bus, ready to resign himself to another day of sadness, but then a voice called out to him that made his chest feel tight.
“Peter!” It was Tony, leaning against his car in the parking lot, smoking and gesturing for Peter to join him. He seemed less angry today, less brooding. The sight filled Peter with joy, but he was reluctant to show it. He was still upset. He was still confused. He was still hurt, but none of that could stop his feet from carrying him across the lot. “What?” He asked, crossing his arms, keeping his eyes on the pavement.
“I want to talk,” Tony said, flicking his cigarette away. “Can we?”
“You ditched me yesterday,” Peter whispered, unsure why his hands started to tremble in his pockets. “It was raining and I had to walk and-”
“ You told me to skip,” Tony interrupted. “Why didn’t you take the bus?”
“Because I didn’t think you would listen to me,” Peter sighed, shaking his head. “I waited for you.”
“How was I supposed to know that?” Tony let out a frustrated huff of breath, dragging a hand through his hair.
Peter bit the inside of his lip and turned on his heel, “If I’m bothering you, then we can just-”
“Wait, no!” Tony reached out, grabbing Peter by his wrist.
The same bruised wrist as before. Peter flinched at the contact, inhaling sharp through his teeth as a dull pain erupted up his forearm. “L-Let go!”
Tony’s eyes went wide, releasing his grip immediately. “Sorry! I’m sorry, baby, I forgot-”
“How could you forget something that you did!?” Peter snapped, clasping his bruised wrist in his hand, holding it to his chest. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”
“Peter,” Tony’s voice was unsteady, frantic, worried. He reached out again, a gentle hand in Peter’s, but the younger boy just yanked it away.
“Don’t touch me.” 
Tony paused, slowly closing his hand and stuffing it into his pocket. “Okay, but please, baby, just talk to me, I didn’t mean-”
“No,” Peter shook his head, once again starting towards the building.
Tony followed, keeping his hands to himself but unrelenting in his pleads. “Please. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad, baby, just stay and talk to me.”
“Stop calling me that,” Peter fumed, irritation dripping from every word. 
Tony jogged forward, stepping in front of Peter to halt his strides. “Okay, okay , but I really just want to talk. I want to fix this, I-”
“I told you no,” Peter repeated, stepping around Tony without even looking him in the eye. “The bell is going to ring soon. I have class.”
“Peter,” Tony reached out again, grabbing almost desperately at Peter’s hand.
“I told you not to touch me!”
“I don’t know what else to do-!”
“Is there a problem here?” All of sudden, there was Quentin, fearlessly interjecting with one hand pushing against Tony’s chest and the other hovering in front of Peter in protection. His shoulders rigid and his body braced for a clash more intense than their last.
Tony scowled, his eyes cast in a dark and threatening glare, “Move the hand before I break it.”
“He told you not to touch him.” Quentin challenged, ignoring the warning and shoving his hand harder against Tony’s chest.
And Peter watched with a sinking feeling as Tony grabbed Quentin’s wrist and fingers like he was leveraging to snap the bone. “Tony, don’t!” He yelled, louder than he has in a while and Tony must have taken notice because he released Quentin without question.
But then Quentin scoffed, putting two and two together, “You’re the one that fucked up Peter’s wrist, aren’t you?” He laughed low, his tone unsurprised, “And you left him in the rain to get beat up?”
“What?” Tony squinted, “What the fuck is he talking about, Peter?”
Peter shook his head, panicking, “Quentin, stop, you don’t have to-”
“No, he should know that because of him, you almost got the shit kicked out of you by that Loki guy.” Quentin asserted. “I’m glad I was there to take you home.”
“He took you home?” Tony’s voice went stagnant, coasting somewhere dark that had Peter struggling to find the words to respond.
“Yeah, I did,” Quentin boasted. “I was there to protect him, to spend time with him, to get his mind off all the stress you put him through.” He said, stepping back and throwing his arm around Peter’s shoulders. “So, don’t worry, I’ll be taking him again today.”
Peter froze, staring into Tony’s eyes and feeling a swarm of guilt in his stomach, “I didn’t- um, Tony, we didn’t do anything-” He pulled away from Quentin, “It was just-”
“Was he in your room?” Tony asked, tone unchanging.
“Yes, but-”
Tony closed his eyes, taking a deep breath through clenched teeth as his hands balled into fists. Anger was radiating off of him, billowing into the air and making it hard for Peter to breathe. Yet, as Tony opened his eyes, his fists relaxed and his fury seemed to wane as he brought his hand up slowly, threading his fingers through Peter’s hair, “I’m taking you home today.”
And Peter understood that it wasn’t a question.
“Okay.”
~*5*~
After school, the tension had grown beyond control, especially now, as the spring break group convened for a quick meeting – meaning Steve, Sam, Bucky, MJ, Ned, and Tony were hit with the surprise of Quentin’s invitation all at once. To make things worse, the sheer pressure emanating from Tony was making the atmosphere unbearable.
“So,” Steve began, smiling at the group despite the clear unease. “I’ve got good news.”
“We got permission to use the beach house!” Bucky blurted out, beating Steve to the punch.
“Steve’s parents said we can have it for the week.” Sam added, “Monday through Friday.”
“Like they said,” Steve shook his head, playfully putting his hands over their mouths. “Before I was so rudely interrupted. We got the okay from my folks.”
“Yes!” Ned exclaimed, shaking Peter by the shoulders, probably trying to relax the mood. “Spring break!”
Steve laughed at Ned’s enthusiasm, “Is he always like this?”
“Always,” MJ assured. “So is everyone clear with what they’re bringing?”
“We’ll handle the drinks,” Bucky gestured to Sam, Steve, and himself.
“MJ, Peter, and I will get the food.” Ned gave a thumbs up. “But someone else needs to get stuff to light the grill.”
“I can handle that,” Quentin offered.
“Perfect,” Steve nodded. “Tony, you’re friends are good with getting the music set up and the games, right?”
“Yeah,” Tony shrugged. “Happy’s bringing his car.”
“I’m bringing mine,” MJ added.
“Me too,” Quentin and Tony said in unison, only adding to the tension nagging at Peter’s insides.
“Having four cars is perfect,” Ned interjected, laughing awkwardly. “Everyone will have legroom.”
“Sounds good to me.” Steve smiled, waving to everyone as they dispersed. “See you all on Monday!”
No one lingered – not that Peter blamed them – the conversation was strained and uncomfortable. He was relieved that Quentin didn’t start something as they exited the school. Maybe it was because Tony was so silent and Quentin wasn’t the type to start a fight on his own. The walk to the parking lot was quiet, even quieter was the drive to Peter’s apartment. Another awkwardly silent drive with Tony’s unease imposed on the atmosphere.
As Tony parked the car against the curb, Peter opened the door before saying, “Do you want to come in?”
“No,” Tony said, keeping his car running and his hands on the wheel.
“We should talk now, Tones,” Peter closed the door. “I’m sorry about what Quentin said.”
“Which part?” Tony stressed. “The part about Loki, or that he brought you home, or maybe that he was in your fucking room ?” His voice got louder and louder with each word.
Peter’s voice caught in his throat, “W-We didn’t do anything.” 
“How long was he there?”
“I don’t know...until May got back,” Peter shrugged. “We just played video games and did homework. I lent him a book,” His hands were starting to tremble again. He hated it. “He’s my friend.”
“Sure, a friend ,” Tony scoffed.
“What are you trying to say?”
“You let him touch you,” Tony seethed. “You couldn’t stand me touching you but you didn’t seem to care when it was him. What the fuck happened to I’m yours, but you’re mine too , huh?”
“Nothing happened to it!” Peter was starting to panic. All of their conversations had spiraled out of control, escalated beyond what they should have been, and this one was no different. “I was just upset with you and he was nice to me so I didn’t think about it. I didn’t mean to-”
“I wanted to end this shit today.”
Peter’s heart skipped a beat, so scared by the vagueness in those words that his whole frame began to shake. “W-What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” Tony shook his head. “Get out of my car.”
“What?”
“I said get out.”
“Tony.” That came out more pitifully than Peter wanted and – oh no – his vision began to blur behind tears. “I don’t like him,” His voice was distorted and breathy and on the verge of sobs, but somehow, that didn’t stop him from getting angry. “You’re the one that started this!” He yelled, looking up to combat his tears. “You’re the one that got mad first! I was trying to talk to you about your dad and you-”
“I don’t want to talk about him!” Tony snapped, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. “Why don’t you get that? Why can't you just fucking let it go?!”
“Because he hit you, Tony!” Peter snapped back. “He hit you and I couldn’t do anything and I could tell you were scared and that-”
“Peter, stop! Just fucking stop!” Tony dropped his face into his hands. “This isn’t something you should worry about.”
“Tony, I’m your boyfriend ,” Peter stressed, wiping at his tear-stained cheeks. “How can I not worry? It happened in front of me and I-”
“Can you just get out?” Tony lifted his head, his expression was blank but his eyes were wet, so clearly filled with tears of his own.
“But Tony, I-”
“Peter, I’m serious, get the fuck out of my car.”
“If that’s what you want then fine!” Peter fumed, throwing open the car door and stepping out. “Be that way!” He yelled before slamming the door shut and turning towards his building, not bothering to glance back, even when the roar of Tony’s engine disappeared down the street.
As he ambled into his building and up the stairs, Peter wondered if this was what it felt like to be at his wits’ end; to feel utterly crushed by the weight of his emotions; to feel his heartache and be at a loss when trying to fix it. He stepped into the apartment, surprised to see May’s shoes by the door and hear her bright greeting. Right, it was the weekend, she was home earlier than usual. 
“Peter!” May was stunned when she laid eyes on her nephew, rushing over to pull him into a hug. “What happened?”
“I don’t know!” Peter started to break down. “Things just keep getting worse and we keep arguing and I-” He sobbed, “I don’t know what to do!” And the tears he so viciously tried holding back fell freely and he was hopeless against them. 
“Okay, calm down,” May rubbed gentle circles into Peter’s back. “Come sit down,” She said as she guided him to the couch, where he continued to cry. Where he continued to weep as she headed into the kitchen and prepared two cups of tea. Continued to sob as she grabbed a box of tissues from the linen closet and calmly sat, waiting for the tears to run dry. And once they did, she finally spoke, “Now, explain.”
“Tony hates me,” Peter’s voice was hoarse. “All we’ve been doing is fighting with each other and Quentin made it worse.”
“The boy from the hall?”
“Yeah,” Peter sniffled. “He’s my friend but Tony thinks I like him and we’re fighting about that too now.” He sighed, taking a sip of tea before continuing, “And everyone’s going on that trip to Steve’s family’s beach house. And it’s just going to be the worst, Aunt May.”
“What were you fighting about before Quentin?”
“I-” Peter hesitated, “It was something that happened at Tony’s house.”
“And what happened?”
“Something bad,” Peter mumbled, placing his mug on the coffee table.
“I’m listening.”
-
Read Part 2: Here.
84 notes · View notes
faelune-home · 4 years
Text
FFXIV Write 2020 #15: Ache
(A/N: I say on my last prompt post that I inadvertently have a theme going in my pieces, and this prompt just enables me to keep working with it lol XD
Not every prompt is gonna lean into it, but most of them have halfway into the month now. The only thing I would say is unfortunate it that I’ve said my miqo WoL is a cheery positive character but most of these being focused on loss or sad things has presented her as more weepy or frustrated :’’D I’ll need to balance these out with cheery miqo!Fu fics after the month lol
Well loss and sad feels are the thing right now, so let’s look at heartache! Aka, I’ve written myself into the corner that is no WoLShipping cos my WoL is more focused on her duty and the pitfalls that mean relationships would be a lot harder when you have so many responsibilities :’) All WoLships are anchored for miqo!Fufu. If I ever want to do shippy stuff, I’ll have to AU it off my WoL timeline rip
Mostly smaller spoilers to the end of Heavensward, 3.3/.4 era, but the actual timeline placement of this one, I’m actually not sure, it could just happen after 3.4, but I could have it happening in 4.1 or 5.3 when the game also has story downtime.
Word count: 1953
@ffxiv-writers)
The low attendance in the Rising Stones made for a quiet atmosphere. One could hear a pin drop, or a door creaking open, as happened to the returning Fufu, dressed in a short ruffled dress gifted to her by the Scion’s own receptionist earlier that day. She only hoped to sneak in and hurry to her room, avoid any chatter. But her luck was against her, as a waiting Alisaie and Tataru jumped to attention at her arrival.
“Well, you’re home earlier than expected,” the lalafell giggled, “No-one here would’ve questioned if you’d enjoyed a longer dinner with Ser Aymeric.” The miqo’te flushed, averting her eyes from the grinning girls.
“There was no need to go any longer, it was just dinner,” she said.
“Just dinner,” Tataru scoffed, shaking her head. “Someone as hopelessly smitten as you just shrugged it off as dinner when he’d get to his knees for your any request?” Ignoring Fufu’s cry of umbrage at the suggestion, which itself drew a laugh from the younger girl in the room, Tataru jumped from her chair and declared, “You two wait right here. I will be back with tea and we are discussing the evening events.”
As she marched off for the Stones’ kitchen, Fufu just sagged, grumbling, “But there were no events.”
“She’s not going to take that as an excuse you know,” Alisaie smiled, “And even if you went off to your room, she’d just drag you back here or insist on having the conversation there instead.” The woman sighed, knowing the elezen’s word to be true. Resigned to the badgering to come, Fufu took her seat at the table beside Alisaie and placed her head on the surface, earning a sorry pat on her shoulder.
“I have to confess, I don’t see why it was only dinner,” the red mage hummed, eyebrow arched and a cheeky smirk spreading on her lips, “I did promise profusely not to go off and get shot with another poison tipped arrow to spoil this one like I did the last. With extra reassurances to my brother of course.”
Fufu pouted, but didn’t protest, which allowed Alisaie to continue, “Not to mention all the small tasks and missions were handed to every other soul here, leaving you a free bird for the day. Therefore, you had all the time in the world to engage the man in any affairs. More than just ‘dinner’, if you get me.”
Giving the girl a side eye, the miqo’te mumbled into the table, “Where did you learn about anything like that?” Alisaie simply smiled and leaned back in her chair, content to not answer.
To her credit, Tataru returned at this point, holding a tea tray. As she began setting up their cups on saucers and sliding a plate of bite sized biscuits into the middle, the lalafell said, “Y’know, as well as making sure everything here was all cleared up, we called ahead to make sure he wasn’t busy. Bless the Twelve for Lucia helping to negotiate his work in his stead.”
“I’d say you all have too much time on your hands if you’re this invested in playing matchmaker. You’re taking precious focus away from Ishgard’s workings and the rest of Eorzea,” Fufu monotoned. Alisaie rolled her eyes and countered, “That you say your part is to care for all of Eorzea vs his own single focus on Ishgard betrays that you are far too overworked and you deserved a break.”
The miqo’te frowned, idly running her fingertip around the rim of her freshly poured cup of tea. Tataru finally sat herself down, saucer in hand and declared, “There! We’re all set. Now tell us what happened?”
Fufu took a sip. “We had dinner. Went for a walk around the Hoplon-”
“Oh, that would’ve been nice,” Alisaie interrupted, taking a biscuit and ignoring the sharp look Tataru shot her way.
“...And then I left.”
Tataru coughed on her tea, hissing back a curse at the heat. “Wait, that’s it?” Even Alisaie tilted her head, confused.
A nod. “Yup. Dinner, a walk, then home. I told you nothing much happened.”
“W-well, what did you talk about? Surely you didn’t eat in silence,” the shorter woman stumbled, bewilderment writ upon her face.
Fufu shrugged. “Yeah, we talked. He said Ishgard was adapting well, though a few old guard types were still being stubborn about the change in policies, and the dragons coming and going into the Firmament. He was happy with how that’s been going, and pretty surprised when I said I was helping out there. I figured Francel might’ve brought it up.”
“And as nice as that is to hear, truly, I don’t think that’s what Tataru is looking for,” the girl said, seeing the quivering pout on the frustrated woman’s face.
“You’re absolutely right. Where is the romance? The sweeping declarations of courtship and love? You have had wider mooneyes than any miqo’te for this man since day 1 and now you tell me you had the best opportunity to be forthright and honest with him and you didn’t take it?” Tataru jumped to her feet onto the chair, hands slamming down on the table, making the tea shake. “And as I said before, he is just as obviously infatuated with you right back. Even if you somehow bit your tongue, surely he must’ve said something.”
Fufu carefully regarded the other woman, taking another sip. “I think you’ve been indulging in too much local gossip.” As Tataru near comically brought her head down against the surface, Alisaie frowned and stared intently at the keeper, eyes narrowed.
“You are being awfully cagey about this. Normally you’re much more full of life, or at least trying to be cheery even in a bad situation.” The Warrior noticeably avoided looking at the girl. Finally deciding to put her foot down and see to her friend’s uncharacteristic behaviour, Alisaie put her cup on the saucer, pushed it far away and asked, “What happened?”
An ear flicked. “I already said.”
“And you’re clearly leaving something out. Did he say no? Or did someone else say something? I know you’re not usually the type to let other people’s words bother you, but if it got to you this time--”
“Nope. Nothing like that,” Fufu clipped back, reaching to take another sip of her tea only for Tataru to grab hold of her arm, stopping her.
“Even if people did talk, it’d be more good than bad. At least the good would outweigh the awful, people would be delighted. Imagine the buzz across the lands; ‘The Warrior of Light and Ishgard’s own Lord Commander enamoured toge-’”
The cup slammed to the table, tea sloshed out onto the wood as the woman snapped, “And that’s the problem!”
Both girls jumped back at the outburst. Fufu lowered her head to her hands, letting out a watery sniff.
“You mean,” Alisaie tested slowly, watching for the miqo’te reaction, “the attention?” Her head shook, still buried in her hands.
“No,” she sighed, lifting her head again, her eyes glistening. “The problem is who we are, and what we do. He’s the Lord Commander of the Temple Knights and one of the Speakers of the House. Ishgard’s fresh out of a thousand year long war and people still struggle with the shift. There’s dissenters in the ranks and the lowborn people still don’t trust his words even with the efforts of Hilda and the House of Commons. He doesn’t have time for relationships, and neither do I.”
She stood, tail curling and lashing. “I’m the Warrior of Light. I’m needed in so many places and I know you’re arguing that I need a break sometimes, I’m not refuting that, but with how many problems the realm has going on that need me at a moment’s notice, I can’t dedicate any time to another person that wouldn’t already be part of the Scions.” She took in a breath, trying to calm herself.
“Neither of us has the time or the energy. He has his duties to Ishgard, and I to the rest of the realm. When would we even find the time for each other? And I can’t imagine the worries he’d go through whenever I have to go off on another dangerous mission halfway across the star. Even with every promise under the sun that I can handle it and I’d come back safe, I wouldn’t resent him if he worried all the same.”
She finally collapsed back into the seat, sliding down into a depressed slouch. A heavy silence spread over the table, the tea chilled fast in the pot.
“I see,” was all Alisaie could add.
“He did ask though,” Fufu said quietly, making the others perk up, curious. “During the walk through the Pillars. He sent off his guard that came with us for some privacy.”
A sad smile inched across her lips, as she recalled, “And it was so sweet. Calling me things like ‘the fire that warmed Ishgard’s hearths’, ‘the lost sun returned to her highlands’, and ‘his own shining light of hope’.” She giggled when she saw Tataru’s eyes light up.
“But I told him my piece, ‘cos I’ve thought about it for a long time, and I couldn’t see any way for me to commit to him so long as there’s Ascians and Primals and the Empire breathing down our necks,” she sighed, “He took it well at least. He understood. I hope.”
“He should,” the elezen nodded firmly, a hand on the woman’s shoulder, “He’s a reasonable man, and after hearing all you’ve laid out, I’m sure even he can see the pitfalls of such a relationship. But perhaps he has the good patience to wait for you, whenever we finally bring a modicum of peace to the lands.”
“Oh he better!” Tataru huffed, hands on hips, “If he decides whenever you’re ready for some tender love and care that he’s not interested, then we will personally be marching to Ishgard and giving him a piece of our minds.” She thrust an open hand out, and to Fufu’s amusement, Alisaie took it and they shook, such serious looks on their faces that she couldn’t help but laugh.
“I didn’t ask you both to be my wingwomen!”
“You don’t ask for a lot of things, so often you have to be told what you need,” Alisaie smirked, picking up the plate of biscuits and bringing them to the slouching woman, adding, “Speaking of which, take one of these. They’re quite good and after that tirade, you look like you could use a pick-me-up.”
Fufu smiled, doing as she was told. And as she let out a pleased hum of approval, Tataru gave a shrug and said, “For someone who’s normally not fussed about all the work you have to do as the Warrior of Light, it’s a touch odd to see you complain about this side of it. Oddly refreshing I’d say, but odd all the same.”
Her ear flicked. “I know. But just ‘cos I don't mind the work doesn’t mean I don’t also see the burden in it.”
“Well, we try not to let you shoulder that burden entirely on your own. Just because we can’t help with primal fighting doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t pull our weight elsewhere,” the younger girl smiled, leaving them the plate and taking hold of the tray, saying, “It’s a shame teatime didn’t work out and most of this has gone to waste, but I’m glad for the chat at least.”
“Yeah,” the warrior nodded, “I appreciate you two listening, even if I didn’t want to talk about it at first.” 
Tataru laughed. “But of course! What are friends for?”
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inu-jiru · 4 years
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Tomoe, The Eastern Tigress - Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve - The Courage of Two Fathers
Jet and Missile, while their deaths had been brutal, had been fortunate enough to die decently quickly. They’d felt pain, there was no doubt about that, but the pain lasted for a few minutes, at most. As night fell over the base, both brothers succumbed to their wounds. They were now nothing more than life-sized chew toys for the soldiers to sharpen their fangs on. Hougen watched on, a cruel grin etched onto his face as he watched the the two corpses be flung about and ripped at until they were unrecognizable as dogs. This was the distraction John had used to sneak into the hut.
Hiro and the other loyalists waited nearby, hiding themselves in the woods. Watching the hut, they saw the Shepherd emerge with Reika, both of them slipping away into the undergrowth, Hougen and his lackeys being none the wiser. Gin and Julius, meanwhile, snuck out of the shed, the Akita leaning onto the younger male for support. They began their descent down the mountain trail, hoping to get as much distance between themselves and Hougen’s base as possible. The plan was to rendezvous in Shiga, which wasn’t far from the Alps.
Meeting with each other in the woods, John, Reika, Hiro, and Hook’s three comrades began making a run for it. Hiro took a glance at the young female, getting a good look at her face. The skin around her eye was swollen, and dried blood came from her nose. He could hear her wince with each step she took, making it obvious that she had other injuries that he couldn’t see. A blazing fury coursed through the Pyrenees’ body.
I’ll make you pay for hurting her, bastard… Hiro thought fiercely.
“General,” Reika called to John. “I don’t see Gin anywhere. We didn’t leave him behind, did we?”
“Of course not,” replied the Shepherd. “He’s meeting us in Shiga. There’s someone there who’ll be able to hide us and heal us up.”
“I see…” The Akita mix furrowed her brow, clearly still worried. There was nothing she could really do about it, though. She’d much rather trust in the words of her comrades than spend another second with that tyrant.
“He’ll be alright,” said Hiro softly, as if reading the bitch’s mind. “That guy’s a legend. Legends don’t die easily.” Reika looked up at him, flashing him a thankful grin. Hiro felt his heart flutter.
Back at Hougen’s base, the mutilation of Jet and Missile’s bodies had come to an end. Hougen yawned, showing his boredom. Standing, he turned towards his hut, calling back over his shoulder:
“Enough, you morons. Get back to your posts, and one of you, get me something to eat.”
“SIR!” came his army’s mighty reply. As the soldiers scattered, returning to their duties, Hougen slid open the door to his hut, stepping inside. He expected to see Reika pressing herself into her corner, shivering at the sight of him. However, upon seeing the corner, and by extension, the rest of the single-roomed hut empty, Hougen stopped cold. His eyes swept across the room; perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him.
No. Reika was definitely gone.
“How the fuck…?” he pondered, his muzzle wrinkling in anger. It was then that he noticed a familiar scent. Someone else had entered the hut while he wasn’t looking, and that someone was John. Immediately, Hougen’s eyes grew bloodshot, rage boiling within his evil body.
“The prisoners have escaped!” the yell of a soldier filled Hougen’s ears. “Gin, John, the fatass...they’re gone!”
“HRAH!” Hougen boomed, returning outside. His paws slammed against the wooden steps, nearly shattering them in his fit of rage. “Where are they!? I’ll tear their fucking throats out!”
“That way…!” Hook responded, pointing his muzzle in the direction Gin and Julius had gone. “I think I smelled Gin’s scent that way!”
“After them!” Hougen’s roaring voice echoed through the woods. “Hunt them down and slaughter them all! Don’t leave a single one of them alive!”
Hook held his head down, blending in with the crowd of charge who charged in the direction he’d pointed out. He followed from behind, having no intention of harming his allies, but not wanting to out himself as an Ohu loyalist.
Boss! Julius! Please get away quickly!
Hougen followed behind his soldiers, his tongue running along his jowls. Tonight, his fangs would be covered in Gin’s blood. The Ohu legend would end, and he’d make sure of it.
The blizzard picked back up when Weed’s group reached the mountain’s peak. A shelter, abandoned to the elements, made for an available shelter to spend the night. Everyone gathered inside, huddling together in order to get warm.
“Rocket,” Weed began as he pressed himself into GB’s long coat. “You said you knew where we could find allies, right? What kind of dogs did you have in mind?”
“I’ve heard about a male who lives not far from these Alps,” Rocket replied. “A one year old named Kyoushiro Shirogane. He’s young, but he’s got at least fifty dogs under his command.”
“A one year old?” echoed Ken, cocking his brow. “Isn’t that a little young to be a leader?”
“Ahem,” Tomoe cleared her throat. Ken looked at her, his eyes widening as he realised what he was saying. His own General was the same age as this Kyoushiro fellow.
“I-I didn’t mean it like that, little sis,” the Dane began with an awkward grin.
“Sure,” Tomoe replied, smirking. Beside her, Kagetora snickered.
“It’s not just Kyoushiro who’s young,” Rocket continued. “All of his dogs are barely as old as he is, but they’re all fierce fighters. That Kyoushiro’s an especially brutal guy. He’s definitely someone you want to have on your side and not on the enemy’s.”
“Kyoushiro Shirogane…” Weed murmured the name, testing it on his tongue. “He sounds like someone worth meeting. Where is he, Rocket?”
“He owns territory in Shiga,” Rocket informed. Ken, Kagetora and Tomoe immediately perked.
“Shiga?” said Tomoe. “That shouldn’t be too far from Tesshin’s territory!”
“Right,” agreed Kagetora, nodding. “Weed, we shouldn’t forget to stop by and ask him for help, too.”
“Of course,” the young brindle murmured. “Alright, everyone. Get some rest; we set off for Shiga in the morning.”
Julius raced along the edge of the mountain stream, Gin resting on his back. In order to preserve his energy, Julius had offered to carry the Boss dog, to which Gin had agreed. Even with the weight of another adult male on his back, traveling was much faster than before. Far behind them, Hougen’s army continued following the scents and tracks. They’d noticed that Gin’s scent and pawprints had faded, but his unknown companion’s still remained.
“I don’t get it,” a dog barked to his nearby ally. “Is Gin even still this way?”
“Use your head, dumbass,” the other male snorted. “He’s being carried by some other guy. If anything, we should be wondering where those other bastards are. We haven’t smelled them at all.”
The small conversation was overheard by Hougen. For a while, he’d been running on the fury he’d felt from being made into a fool by what should’ve been his prisoners. Now that he’d calmed down, he’d began to realize that he, too, hadn’t picked up any other scents. Skidding to a stop, a new anger filled the Great Dane’s body. Gin might’ve been heading in this direction, but John, Reika and Hiro certainly weren’t. He stopped.
“Oi! Half of you idiots come here! The rest of you, keep looking for that bastard!”
As Hougen demanded, the army split in two, the soldiers near the rear returning to their leader. Hook remained among them.
“Something’s not right,” growled Hougen as his minions stood before him. “That bastard Gin sent John and the others another way. Go and find them!”
“But sir…!” a male whimpered, a husky soldier known as Matsu. “How would we know which way they’ve gone?”
“Use your brain, you fool,” the Dane snapped impatiently. “Gin and whoever’s helping him chose this path because the snow covers whatever tracks are on it. John’s group would be doing the same thing. Take the eastern path; I have no doubt in my mind that’s where they are.”
Shit! Hook’s heart began to race. This wasn’t supposed to happen...I have to warn John and the others!
“Come on!” Matsu called out, leading the charge into the woods. “We’ll cut through here! Let’s find and kill those bastards!”
Hook joined Matsu’s group, remaining far in the back so that no one would notice what he was about to do. He slipped into the undergrowth, putting on an extra burst of speed so that he could, hopefully, beat Hougen’s soldiers there. Fortunately, the trees of the woods made running a lot easier. Before too long, Hook could hear the trickling of the stream. He’d made it! Emerging from the woods, Hook traveled alongside the small body of water, keeping an eye out for his comrades. He soon saw them walking together across the stream.
“General!” Hook howled to them. They all looked up, seeing the Labrador mix calling to them.
“Hook!” John yelled back. “What’s going on!?”
“Hougen figured out that you and Gin split up,” Hook explained quickly. “He sent a group of dogs this way! You have to find somewhere to hide, quick!”
“Damn it…” one of Hook’s allies said, looking back the way they came from. “With the General’s injuries, it wouldn’t be wise to run…”
“What do we do?” asked Reika nervously. “Can’t we go in some other direction to throw them off?”
“It won’t be that simple,” said John with a low voice. He suddenly stopped, his paws planted firmly in the snow. “Tch...I was afraid it’d come to this…”
“John?” Hiro began, turning to the Shepherd.
“If all of us go another direction, they’ll just follow our tracks,” John explained himself. “We’ll need to split up again. I’ll keep following the stream; the rest of you go to the west. Aside from Gin, Hougen on really wants me dead.”
“You can’t possibly think of going alone,” Hiro argued, his fur standing on end just at the thought of leaving the aging male like that. “I’ll stay too!”
“No, Hiro.” John looked at the Great Pyrenees, staring straight into his eyes. “You said you wanted to help Reika, didn’t you?”
“Uh…? John…”
“Well, this is your chance. Take her west and loop back around towards Shiga. Not even Hougen is that desperate enough for blood that he’d send troops that way.”
“Hougen’s dogs will kill you, General…” Reika whispered softly. Her eyes began to glisten with tears. “Please, you have to come with us…”
“I was one of the dogs who helped bring down Akakabuto long ago,” John said fiercely. “I wouldn’t be Ohu’s General if I was just gonna roll over and die to Hougen’s gang of clowns. I won’t die.”
“Promise me,” Hiro barked. “Promise that you won’t die, and I’ll do what you tell me. If you don’t, then I’m not moving an inch.”
“Tsk…” John scoffed. He padded forward, lowering himself into a fighting stance. “If that’s the way you wanna be, youngster...Fine. I won’t die, and that’s a promise. I swear on the name of Riki.”
Both males stared at each other in silence. Across the way, Hook watched the conversation, fidgeting worriedly. Why weren’t they moving already!? Matsu’s group would’ve probably made it to that side of the stream already! With a long and heavy sigh, Hiro nodded.
“Alright,” the Pyrenees said. “I promise to bring Reika to Shiga.”
“I’ll be praying for you, sir,” Reika added, bowing her head to the Shepherd. She then looked up at Hiro. “I’m ready…”
With that, Hiro and Reika began running west, leaving John behind with the three loyalists. John turned to them, cocking a brow.
“What are you three still doing here?” he demanded. “Hurry up and go with them.”
“No sir,” barked the black mongrel from before. “We wish to stay with you.”
“I don’t plan on running,” John warned. “If you three stay here, this could be the end for you.”
“We don’t mind that,” the second loyalist, a Kishu, responded plainly.
“Mmph.” John looked at the three males standing before him, a sense of respect building within him. He nodded his approval. “Tell me your names. I wanna know who’s gonna be helping me drag these bastards to Hell.”
“I’m Lefty,” said the black mongrel.
“I’m Tommy,” barked the Kishu.
“The name’s Rossi,” the last male, a spotted mongrel, replied. “At your service.”
“Heh, glad to make your acquaintance, boys.”
“Over here!” a voice yelled from further up the path. Matsu and his group had found them. Looking up, John could see what had to be twenty dogs, maybe more, darting towards them. “They realized that they couldn’t get away! Ha! Let’s tear them apart!”
Lefty, Tommy and Rossi joined John’s side, facing their enemy as one. If they were to die, then they would die with no regrets. Hook’s eyes were glued to the scene, his body quaking with terror. Was this it!? Were his friends really about to die before his eyes!?
“Guh!” Julius grunted, stumbling as his paw hit a rock buried in the snow. Gin gasped as he felt himself lurch forward. He was flung from the youngster’s back, landing in the snow with a groan. Recovering quickly, Julius rushed to the Akita’s aid. “Gin! Shit, I’m sorry…”
“It’s fine,” Gin promised, pushing himself onto his paws. “I can’t let you keep carrying me like this; we have to come up with something else.”
“There’s not enough time,” said Julius, looking over his shoulder. He could see Hougen’s dogs yet, but he could hear them; they were close. “C’mon, Boss; hurry and climb on!”
“I won’t be fast enough…” Gin turned in the direction of Hougen’s army. “But I can take advantage of this.”
“Boss…?”
“I’ll use my Battouga as soon as they round that bend,” Gin told his comrade. “I can take out a number of Hougen’s dogs in one fell swoop. I’ll need you to help me get away after that. We can use the river to get us down the mountain faster. Can you do that for me?”
Julius hesitated. There were a number of ways this plan could go wrong. But what other choice did they have…? The young Shepherd took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and nodded. Gin nodded as well, and both males stood together, watching as Hougen’s army appeared around the corner. The Great Dane was at the rear, his eyes glinting with a sick satisfaction upon seeing Gin.
“There’s the fool!” Hougen growled. “Hurry up and rip him apart!”
“Gin…” Julius whispered, his heart pounding. “It’s now or never…!”
“Just a second…” Gin replied quietly. “I want to line this up perfectly. If I can take out Hougen as well, all of this could be over.”
Gin took in a sharp breath, his body tensing in preparation. The drumming of paws against the snow gradually faded away as Gin’s mind slipped from reality. As the chilly air bit at the wounds in his body, he remembered that long night five years ago. He remembered the words of his father, Riki:
Do it, Gin! Now!
“HIYA!” Gin shouted, launching himself into the air. His body began rotating forward into a disk-like shape. The moon glistened off his silver fur, making him seem almost like a blazing star shooting directly at Hougen’s soldiers. The approaching dogs stopped, seeing the spinning form drawing near. Even Hougen himself froze in place.
“What…?” The Dane murmured, his eyes widening. “What the hell…!?”
GUOOOO!
GYAHHH!
HYAHHHH!
Screams filled the air as the Zetsu Tenrou Battouga made contact, slicing through bodies like a circular saw. Blood spattered all over the snow, the bloody, squirming halves of dogs falling over. In a platoon of what had to be at least fifty dogs, more than half were cut down in this single attack. Hougen watched, still frozen in shock, as Gin sped towards him. The Dane had to do something’ if he stayed where he was, he’d be killed…! His eyes darted madly, sweat dripped from his fur, and for the first time in his life, Hougen felt genuine terror. Closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, Hougen dove to the side.
SLICE!
“GRAAAAAH!” Hougen screamed, feeling a searing pain in his right hind leg. Landing in the snow, he quickly turned around to see how badly he’d been hit. His heart stopped when he saw his dismembered leg lying a few inches away. Gin had sliced it off.
In the following chaos, Hougen’s remaining dogs backed away from their slaim comrades, lowering themselves onto their bellies in fear of being killed next. Julius took this chance to carry out Gin’s orders. Cutting through the dead bodies, the Shepherd reached Gin, who’d managed to land on his feet not far from the carnage. He wasn’t completely fine, however; Julius could see his legs quivering, threatening to buckle out from underneath him. Quickly, Julius lowered himself, allowing Gin to climb onto his back. The youngster ran, making a break for the river.
“I-Idiots…!” Hougen, shaking himself from his shock, shouted at his minions. He tried getting up, forcing himself to try and adjust to his injury. He staggered a bit, unsteady on his feet. “Hurry up and follow them! They’re getting away!”
“Lord Hougen…!” a concerned soldier barked, approaching the Great Dane. “Are you alright!?” Hougen responded with a rage-filled growl, his head diving down and catching the unfortunate goon in his jaws. Hougen threw him in the direction Julius had run.
“I said go, you brain-dead buffoons! Hurry, before they--!”
SPLASH!
Julius had thrown himself and Gin into the river, as ordered. The current caught them quickly, sweeping them away from the scene. The water was so cold; it chilled Julius deep to his bones. Yet, he hung tight to his leader, refusing to let him go. Pushing with his hind legs, the young male hoisted himself up, allowing his and Gin’s head above the water’s surface. Gin gasped for breath.
“Y-You alright, Boss!?” asked Julius, shivering.
“F-Fine…” the Akita replied. Julius could hear the chattering of the older male’s teeth as he spoke. “Just keep your eyes open and endure the cold. We’ll be at the bottom of the mountain soon.”
“Yes, sir.”
Back on the trail, Hougen stood where he was, staring after the escaped males. The dogs around him were silent, watching him carefully. The tyrant had failed. Failure was something that a dog as arrogant as Hougen could not tolerate. Lifting his head, Hougen howled his fury to the heavens.
“This isn’t over, Gin!” he boomed. “One of these days, I’ll tear you apart with my own fangs, and nothing will stop me from taking Gajou! You hear me!? NOTHING!”
The battle between John’s small posse and Matsu’s platoon had begun. John leapt forward, tearing off the Husky’s ear in a single movement. Even with his injured body, his fangs were still powerful weapons in combat. Again and again, John pounced at his enemies, slashing throats and snapping necks. Tommy, Lefty and Rossi were no pushovers either. The four males took down dogs one by one.
“Hrah!” John shouted, his weariness and anger being heard by all. A forepaw slammed into the snow as the male tried stepping forward. John’s lungs were on fire, and his pelt was slick with sweat.
“Don’t give up, General!” called Rossi, pinning down an enemy.
The bastard’s close to death!” said Matsu, feeling triumphant despite his own injury. “Get him!”
The battle continued as the platoon swarmed the four fighters. Lefty found himself caught by the fangs of several dogs. He was pushed down onto his back and held in place.
“Lefty!” cried Tommy in alarm. Matsu snickered, smirking as he approached the black mongrel.
“Lefty…! Left--!” John had also tried to call to his ally, but a sharp pain in his flank stopped him. Eyes widening, the Shepherd choked back the wail of pain that threatened to escape his maw. Things were going downhill, and fast. Matsu, meanwhile, set his fangs on Lefty’s throat.
“You filthy traitor…” the Husky spat in disgust. “Ohu’s old news. Why would you wanna switch to their side?”
“I never switched,” Lefty shot back defiantly. “I was always loyal to Ohu, to Gin! Nothing you say or do will ever change that!”
“Well said, Lefty…!” said Rossi, struggling as males began piling on top of him, dragging him down the same way they did the black male.
“Rossi!” John cried. Hearing Tommy’s shouts, John looked to see that Tommy was also being overpowered. “Shit! Tommy! These goddamn cowards…! Can’t fight on their own so they have to pull this crap!”
“You fools…” hissed Matsu. “This is what happens when you side against Hougen! Die!” The Husky bit into Lefty’s neck, giving him barely anything to scream before he tore out his throat. Lefty gurgled and gagged, before falling still.
“You son of a bitch!” John howled with rage, tears flowing freely at the loss of his new friend. However, the surrounding dogs attacked him quickly, tearing into his wounds and spilling fresh blood. John struggled, biting and kicking whenever he could, but the numbers against him were far too great. Had he been at a hundred percept, these dogs would be pushovers. As mangled as his body was, however, John began fearing the worst. Rossi and Tommy’s screams echoed in his ears as they were swiftly torn into.
“Damn you…!” John sobbed, still desperately trying to escape the jaws of his captors. His head raised, his voice being carried by the wind.
“DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!”
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larksinging · 5 years
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happy birthday @rorykillmore ! she requested an au with villanelle and elizabeth and i could not resist a classic ke one with some baby assassins. what happens when you put two disasters together? i think you know. 
i known it’s been a bizarre and intense year, especially recently, but stay strong because we are all here with you. you are such a kind and creative person who lights up any (chat)room you’re in, so i hope this can at least help you have a nice day today because you deserve it!!
“Do you enjoy killing?” 
“No.” Elizabeth’s gaze sharpens. “But…” 
“But?” 
“I… I like the feeling of being in control.” 
That’ll do. Yes, that’ll do.
Faint crying is the first thing Konstantin hears as he steps into Villanelle’s apartment. Either they’re crocodile tears, or she’s actually cracked. That’s concerning.
When he steps inside, Villanelle looks up at him with running mascara and a tissue clutched in her hand. She’s sitting on the couch, the credits of some movie playing in front of her. “This movie was just so, so sad,” she says between shaky breathes. 
“What happened?” Konstantin isn’t sure why he asks. 
“The main character ends up with the boring husband and not her mysterious best friend. Absolutely heartbreaking.”
“How sad.” The movie returns to the streaming page, displaying the name A Simple Favor. Konstantin shakes his head. “I am not here for chit-chatting. I hope you’re not too distraught for a job.” 
Villanelle perks up and her tears immediately dry. She reaches to snatch the post card but he pulls it back just in time. 
“Not so fast,” He chides as she pouts. “This is a two-person job. To test if either of you can work with a team.” He hands her the postcard before she can complain more. “Well, mostly the other one. But don’t take this lightly.” 
“Yeah, yeah.” Villanelle rolls her eyes. “You are pairing me up with a newbie because I am just the greatest ever. I understand.” 
Kostantin gives her a warning look. “Do not kill this one.” “Yeah, yeah.” 
“Or sleep with her!” 
“I’ll behave,” Villanelle lies.
----
At the very least, the job’s in Prague, which means she can enjoy herself on her off hours. After all, she needs some time for planning and recon. Reconnaissance on her new partner, of course.
Konstantin sets them up to meet at a cafe, and the moment Villanelle walks in, she picks out her partner like a sore thumb. Nobody else seems as out of place as the woman in the corner with an oddly old-timey aesthetic, with just a few more modern pieces awkwardly patched on. Oh, boy, Villanelle’s really in for it. 
So she slides up to the table with a pleading smile. “Excuse me,” She asks in perfect french, “Have you seen my boyfriend? He said he’d be--”
“You’re late,” The woman cuts her off in french. And then again in english, “You’re late.” 
“Oh, no, I must have forgotten to set my watch to the right timezone.” Villanelle is not wearing a watch. Even though the other woman’s wearing sunglasses, Villanelle catches her look down to notice that. “If we’re going to be friends, then what do I call you? Because I can think of some good nicknames.” 
“Elizabeth. Is that what we’re doing? Making friends?” 
“Okay, Elizabeth.” Villanelle snatches the sunglasses right off of her face. “I don’t like people who hide their eyes. I want to look into your soul and know you’re not lying to me.” 
Now that the sunglasses are off, Villanelle noticed two things: one, that Elizabeth is  quite pretty under that, which will make this easier. And two, that she is trying too hard to size Villanelle up.
“In this line of work?” Elizabeth lifts an eyebrow. “Then you must not be as good as they told me.” 
Villanelle grabs for the knife next to her. Elizabeth rises to the bait and does the same. Neither of them move, eyes locked and waiting for the other to try something. And then Villanelle laughs.
“Hah! Gotcha.” She sets the knife down and leans back in her chair. Elizabeth looks appropriately confused. “Next time you want to stab someone’s hand, use the fork. It is harder to get out.” 
And she watches, almost hungry, as Elizabeth slowly picks up a fork to examine. “...Noted.” 
-------
Their mark is some up-and-coming doctor putting on a presentation about some new psychological therapy developed by someone known only as “The Countessa”. Sounds like they’re just here to put some blood in the water, but that’s not her problem. Instead she’s brought Elizabeth to the museum that’s holding a temp exhibit on some of his earlier work. Now, though, they’re just sitting in the park across from the museum. For work. 
Villanelle isn’t thinking about work.
“Why ‘Elizabeth’?” She asks, side-eyeing her partner. 
“It’s my name?”  Elizabeth finishes eating a potato chip (funny quirk, that, she seems fascinated with junk food) and shrugs. “I take it you picked your name, but I didn’t need to.”
“No?” Villanelle leans forward. 
“Technically I didn’t exist before,” Elizabeth shrugs. “So there was nothing to erase.” 
Villanelle leans her chin on her hand and watches her partner with wide eyes. This is juicy. “How does that work?” 
Instead of answering, Elizabeth just narrows her eyes. “Oh, no, I’m not telling you everything. You’re not that charming. Besides, my handler says I shouldn’t talk about it.”
“I haven’t been trying,” She pouted. “So why don’t we go and do something fun? I will get you out of those clothes.” She pauses to let the teasing sink in, but continues before Elizabeth can say anything.  “Buy you some new ones. You will stand out less with them.”
“I don’t know. My handler--” 
“Do you do everything your handler tells you? Come onnnn. Don’t you want to have a little bit of fun?” 
That gets some kind of rebellious spark going in Elizabeth.  She rises to her feet and drags Villanelle off the bench by her wrist. Villanelle grins as Elizabeth pulls her along, leading her in a random direction.
---
“Give me a hand,” Elizabeth calls, but Villanelle’s already there. Elizabeth holds her hair up -- which Villanelle can see now is growing out from an uneven cut -- so that Villanelle can tie the dress up behind her neck. 
“Nice color on you. I picked out well.” 
“Blue’s always been my color.” Elizabeth stills slightly when Villanelle’s hands brush her skin. “...You’ve got me in a vulnerable position right now.” 
“That’s true,” Villanelle hums, “Are you worried?” 
“Maybe.” With that done, Elizabeth looks at herself in the mirror. Except Villanelle can tell that’s not what she’s looking at. “It’s strangely exciting.” 
Villanelle smiles wide. She runs her hand along Elizabeth’s arm. “Hmm. Not quite right. This looks like a prom dress, and I am not taking you to prom. Never again.” 
“Have you--” Villanelle grabs another dress before Elizabeth can finish. Sleek and black this time, now that she’s taking this a little more seriously. 
After the curtain to the dressing room closes, Villanelle waits until, on cue, Elizabeth calls for help. Villanelle enters the cramped space and sees the problem, as she predicted: the zipper on the back.
“What are friends for?” Hums Villanelle.
“Is that what we are?” 
Instead of answering, she moves closer to Elizabeth. She places one hand on Elizabeth’s lower back to steady her, and the other slowly pulls the zipper up. She can feel the way Elizabeth’s breath catches. 
“There,” Villanelle whispers, “Perfect.”
-- 
The actual job ends up being easy enough. The museum’s throwing a big party to attract donors and inviting all the speakers, the mark included. That’s part of why she made Elizabeth buy the dress, after all. 
They enter together, and then Villanelle sends her off to lay in wait at the meeting spot. Villanelle’ll find a way to maneuver him to the right place. But before they part, Villanelle leans in close and plants a kiss on Elizabeth’s cheek, too close to her jawline to be quite friendly. She saunters off and leaves Elizabeth to think about that. 
Actually luring him up to the right place is a cakewalk. She just has to make sure he gets nice and drunk, and then suggests they go up to the balcony for some fresh air. Elizabeth’s already waiting for them. She doesn’t smile. 
For the most part, Villanelle doesn’t do anything. She simply passes Elizabeth the hairpin and watches as she drives it, almost surgically, into the man. 
“Push him off the edge,” Villanelle says. “It’ll obscure the wound. And it’s more fun.” 
Elizabeth doesn’t say anything but she stares at the dying man. For a second Villanelle thinks she’s gonna have to do it, but then Elizabeth shoves with all her might. Enough that she has to catch her breath -- whether from the effort or the intensity -- and so Villanelle carefully loops her arm around Elizabeth’s shoulder and leads her away. 
It’ll be a few minutes still before the news filters from the ground to the party, so they make use of that to slip out a back door. Villanelle leads her out onto the street, and across into the park, where they’re only distantly illuminated by street light. 
On further investigation, Elizabeth’s gaze is focused somewhere distant. Not quite shell shocked ( good thing or the Twelve would just put her out of her misery) but distracted. Before Villanelle can ask something, Elizabeth sighs and straightens up with a hint of a satisfied smirk. Now Villanelle’s too curious to be cautious. 
After all, Villanelle knows why she does it. Why she’s always taken to it. It’s everyone else she doesn’t understand.
“Do you enjoy killing?” 
“No.” Elizabeth’s gaze sharpens. “But…” 
“But?” 
“I... I like the feeling of being in control.” 
That’ll do. Yes, that’ll do. Villanelle brushes a stray hair out of Elizabeth’s face, head tilted and faintly smiling to examine her. Then she kisses Elizabeth, soft and hungry. 
------
The next morning, uncharacteristically, Villanelle wakes early. Long before Elizabeth even stirs. She does what she can to not disturb the bed as she crawls out. She dresses quickly into the set of new clothes, gathers her things, and slips out the door. 
It’d be a shame to get attached. As fun as it’d been, getting involved in coworkers is a terrible idea. Better for Elizabeth too if she doesn’t.
Still, no point in a whirlwind romance without a little sentimentality. On the way to the train, Villanelle stops at a few stores. When Elizabeth wakes up, it’ll be to flowers, more designer clothes, and even some of Villanelle’s favorite perfume. 
And if Villanelle stole the blue neck tie from Elizabeth’s outfit the other day as a keepsake, well. What Konstantin doesn’t know won’t kill him. 
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