chapter 2 of an eye for an eye is out!! (+ a little snippet)
Yui pulled out the ice-cream from the freezer and got down on one knee before her, presenting the tub in drawn out, exaggerated movements.
"My lady, your cold dessert to stave off this unusual spring heat," she peeked a look at Kiyoko with a playful smile.
She couldn't help but giggle at her antics. She grabbed her hands still holding the ice-cream tub and pulled her up on her feet, pretending not to see Yui's red ears when they bumped into each other on her way up.
"Oh, brave knight, how should I thank you for your noble gift?" she tried to imitate her dramatic way of speech, but she feared she was no match for Yui's flowery tone. She chose to look at the lace of her blouse instead of Yui's blossoming cheeks.
"Only the best for Shimizu Kiyoko," she chuckled as she took a step back in an attempt to compose herself. "And by the way, if you try to actually pay me back, I'm kicking you out. Your presence is payment enough." The last sentence came out softly, as if she was afraid the wind would carry her words out the window, exposing them to a strange audience.
blinded by imperfect form [fred weasley x oc] -> ao3 link
summary: In her last year at Hogwarts, Claire Culpepper — Ravenclaw prefect, former prodigy and golden child — struggles with her sexuality and gender identity, the impending divorce of her parents, her sister's love life, choosing a carrer, and navigating whatever the hell she and Fred Weasley have going on after a drunken night of passion. So, not a very fun year all around.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
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some notes before starting: i changed cho chang's name in the one used in the chinese translation, qiu zhang. the original name will still be used from time to time — i once read a fanfic, cant find it for the life of me, where cho is the name the white folks chose for her because it was easier for them. while its not the central point of the fanfic, this kind of racism is going to be discussed between the characters
warnings: hangovers, references to sexual activity, a bit more details about said activities at the end, slight panic attack
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Consciousness came slowly and heavily over her. The smooth sheets soothed her aching muscles, though their coolness made her shiver and curl into herself. Her head started pounding at the movement, and the groan that tried escaping her throat got stuck in the roughness of it.
She didn't remember going to bed last night. Honestly, she didn't remember much of anything from last night. Trying to recall anything past — maybe — midnight sent a splitting pain through her temples. Her eyes were stuck together from the makeup she apparently forgot to take off. She was in the room Davis assigned to her, Ailbhe Faherty and Qiu Zhang, with the curtains drawn, only a silver of light escaping past them, a blissful mercy on her tired eyes.
She rolled onto her back with difficulty, making the blanket shift over her, exposing her chest. A violent shiver overtook her. It was in that moment that she realized she didn't have a shirt, or pants for a matter of fact. Panicked, Claire forced her muscle to work on sitting her up, but in her movement she noticed the figure sleeping soundly next to her, remarkably not Qiu Zhang nor Ailbhe Faherty. Instead of a short and light frame or a lanky one, a muscled back full of freckles was facing her, with a mop of tangled red hair. Was her hair just as much of a mess?
She slapped herself mentally. She had bigger problems than whether or not her hair was a bird's nest.
She felt her throat closing up, and each inhale got stuck somewhere in the middle, barely reaching her lungs. Despite the chillness of the room, sweat made its way down her neck and back, breaking her in shivers.
She slept with someone while absolutely sloshed. She slept with a Weasley. And she didn't even remember anything.
Maybe we didn't actually shag, she thought, getting lightheaded. Just because they were both naked didn't mean they did it.
The pain from her thighs and pelvis as she stood up from the bed ruined all her hopes of having kept her virginity.
Stumbling on her feet, she started searching the room up and down for her clothes. As she dressed, she dared a look at her paramour in hopes of identifying him.
If she didn't know at which half of a pair she was looking at she would've said he looked like a little angel while sleeping. He wasn't particularly pretty, with drool trickling from his mouth and the — oh, Merlin — hickeys on his neck and chest, but the peacefulness on his face soothed her anxieties for a brief moment.
(She quickly did a once over, checking if she had her own hickeys. One on her hip, another two on her inner thighs. She got back to panicking.)
She never bothered telling Fred and George apart; for Claire, they were just "Weasley" — rolled off the tongue just fine, no need for that given name nonsense. She didn't need to know which one was causing trouble to give them detention. Not even his strewn about clothes could help her — she hadn't cared enough last night to play spot the difference. Hopefully, she would be gone by the time he woke up and he wouldn't even remember he got laid. That way she didn't have to worry about knowing which twin whisked her away the previous night, and she could simply pretend it never happened.
She left the room on wobbly feet.
The hallway was littered with wrappers, crumbs, balloons and other rubbish. At the entrance of the common room was shattered glass, and just a little further a knocked over pot. One of the couches was stained red and blue as a result of the colorful charms used by the twins to entertain the guests, and a muggle portrait of a very grumpy old man was doodled all over. A bit of magic was all it would take to clean the mess, so she wouldn't feel any guilt if she sneaked out now. Besides, Davis was probably still sleeping, right?
Wrong.
Davis was trying to make a cup of coffee while also keeping his eyes open in the kitchen. Unfortunately, he heard the heavy sound of her boots, and motioned with his eyebrows to join him.
"Mornin'," he slurred with a husky voice.
"Happy birthday," she greeted, taking a seat at the window.
"Bloody hell, my noggin's killing me," he rubbed at his head. He took his mug and slumped himself in the seat opposite of her. "You're looking dandy compared to me."
"Want me to make you something? My mum told me a cure for hangovers before heading here."
"Please."
As she started looking for barley, cheese, honey and wine, she felt Davis' eyes following her movements. The sweat was returning in full force, as was the anxiety. She felt as if he could tell what she did — and with who — just by the way she was moving about.
"How was last night? I know this isn't usually your sort of stuff."
"Alright, I guess. Could've gone without the hangover though."
"First time?" he lets out a small smile, clearly amused at her inexperience despite being older than him. "What did you do for your 17th?"
"Not drink, that's for sure." Her birthday had been spent at Hogwarts, taking an exam and then sneaking into her best friend's common room, staying up late.
Another figure entered the kitchen as she started cooking up the cure, a stocky and freckled redhead that sent her heart flying in panic. The two of them made eye contact, and Weasley noticed her wide eyes. For a second he looked confused, but then he smirked and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her. In that moment, she realized his neck was free of any marks, and sent him a seething look.
"I think I'm going to leave soon, Davis," she turned towards their host, choosing to ignore The Other Weasley.
"Not gonna help with the clean-up, Culpepper?" The Other Weasley butted in with a clearly taunting voice. "After all the mess you helped make last night?"
"Yeah, you're one of the only ones allowed to use magic, and I can bet you know some cleaning spells," said Davis, apparently set on ruining her life, despite her being a nice classmate and making him kykeon.
"I'm shit at them." Her sister made sure she didn't forget that every time she tried cleaning their room. She almost slammed the plate in front of Davis, but settled on stealing a spoonful of the kykeon while sending arrows from her eyes. He scoffed, but began eating with fervor after tasting a little bit of it.
She wanted to ask them if they saw the girls who were supposed to be rooming with her. Since that would be sure to give away that she hadn't been with them when the party ended, she sut her mouth and started looking for her wand. If she messed up the house, she could blame it on Davis — she did warn him, and it was his responsibility to hand over the keys to the owner.
"Is anybody else awake?" she asked after finally fishing her wand out of the jacket left on a table in the hallway.
"I walked in on Ewing at the loo," said Weasley cheerfully. At Claire and Davis' stares, he added with a slight frown, "What? He was making weird noises. Couldn't let him defile the bathroom or something."
At that, Claire promptly left the kitchen and started cleaning with a few clumsy spells. I defiled a room for sure, she thought, ashamed of herself. Oh, god, did they even use condoms? She would have to stop at a pharmacy or apothecary. She didn't even know what to buy. Damn the lack of safe sex talk at Hogwarts, and damn my celibate friend group.
Weasley and Davis continued talking in the kitchen about which guest woke up and what they did the prior night, thankfully not mentioning her or the other twin.
She was trying to get the stains out of the couch when Lee Jordan walked in the living room, still in pajamas and barefoot — she forgot to clean up the glass, what if he stepped in it? — scratching his arse and yawning to hell and back. Angelina Johnson, looking just as disoriented, was behind him, thankfully wearing slippers. The moment they made eye contact, though, she saw the cogs moving in tandem in their heads, she felt panic raising in her throat, and shouted "Gotta go, you can finish by yourselves!" Claire slammed the front door behind her and ran as fast as her boots let her, reaching a more populated area of the town.
Despite the late summer, the air was still freezing, something she could only attribute on the mountainous region Davis chose for his coming of age party. The streets were still coming to life, townsfolk still rubbing the sleep from their eyes. When a secluded alleyway finally showed itself, she almost cried from relief, and in her sprint to hide her presence, she apparated away.
Apparating while hangover was probably the worst feeling in the world. She'd never been fond of it anyway, but the nausea it added to her pounding head made her want to curl in on herself. She first stopped at Diagon Alley, and had a very embarrassing conversation with the grumpy apothecary on contraceptive methods, then apparated again, this time to her new residence.
The house was quiet. For once, Josephine was nowhere to be seen, and Mr Lupin was passed out on the couch, despite having his own room in the mansion. The air no longer bit her lungs, her muscles started relaxing. She was finally safe.
She tiptoed around the sleeping pictures hanging around the stairwell, and slowly opened the creaking door of her mother's room. Her heart swelled seeing her still in her nightgown, sprawled in bed with a book and a cup of coffee on the bedside table. She couldn't remember the last time she saw mum doing something for herself.
Her green eyes lifted from her book. Claire could tell she was a bit confused, a little amused, but she still motioned for her to climb in with her, which she did with as much enthusiasm as she could muster after the morning she's had.
"How was the party?" mum asked as Claire put her head on her shoulder, hugging her arm close to her chest.
"Alright, I guess," she replied, already feeling her eyelids dropping. "Lee Jordan knows how to make cocktails, so we all got absolutely smashed. I can barely remember what happened."
Mum tugged at her hair to get her attention, and looked at her with worry. "Are you ok? Do you need some meds? Did you eat? I hope you drank lots of water in between all that alcohol."
Claire gave her a small smile. "Yeah, mum, don't worry. I stopped by Diagon Alley before coming home." She settled back over her chest and sighed. "I didn't even realize how much I drank. Those bloody things were so sweet I couldn't even tell."
"Yes, you don't like alcohol usually," mum hummed, returning to her book. "Glad you're back in one piece." She kissed her forehead and started combining gently through her knotted hair. The tugging hurt a little, but she couldn't help but be swayed asleep.
————
She remembered all the laughter and the hushed giggles they shared in the corner of the living room, glued to each other. They whispered in each other's ears, talking about the other guests and saying crude jokes. If she tried hard enough, she could still feel the warmth of his hand on her thigh, and the burn of her hand at the small of his back as he climbed in her lap. She didn't even need to try to replace her mother's fingers in her hair with his, flirtatiously playing with the tips.
Somehow, they slowly migrated to sitting at the base of the staircase, to leaning against the walls of the upper floor, to slamming the door of her room. Their mouths were clumsy from the alcohol, and their kisses full of teeth as they couldn't stop smiling and giggling. She still remembered the shape of his waist and the rough drag of his belt loops against her fingers. He pushed her into the bed and started stripping almost seductively if not for his bouts of dizziness when she tried taking his clothes off. She didn't dare take hers off out of fear of missing out his show.
They spent a good while just grinding over their underwear, moaning and panting in each other's mouth. She couldn't help the tentation of sucking on the freckles marring his skin, lavishing the marks with her hot tongue. She wanted to swallow up all the sounds he made as she bit on his Adam's apple.
Each took a turn at paying attention to each other's crotches. She tugged at his cock lazily but firmly, and continued to suck on the skin of his hips. He pulled on her hair playfully, and she couldn't help the gasps that escaped her. He took revenge by being similarly cruel to her thighs, detaching his lips from them with crude sounds every time, and played with her folds and her clit with curiosity while talking her ear off. Oh, how much he rattled. She thought she would hate the sound of his voice, but he sounded choked off and whiny. She couldn't help but enjoy his — admittedly awkward and cringy — dirty talk.
The actual penetration came much later in the night. They took their time with it, both laying on their side, so much so that the lull in pace and pleasure almost made the two of them fall asleep in each other's arms. Once he was fully in, though, it was like they couldn't stop moving. A heady push and pull, an equal give and take. He barely had time to pull out to cum on her hip. The white liquid dripped slowly down to her mound, hot and dirty. A fire overtook her, and she pulled him back in by his ass. Her hand stayed there the whole time, guiding his movements while she nibbled on his neck.
She remembered the lazy clean up and the breathy laughs they shared. She remembered falling asleep with a smile on her face, facing her lover in a similar position, with their legs tangled and their pinkies touching softly by their sides.
Hinata Shouyou was declared missing just two days before the start of spring, just a few weeks before the start of the dueling tournament. His disappearance roused the entire student body and all dueling fans — at every corner, people could be seen whispering about it with worry and intrigue. Hinata Shouyou was not the first person to go missing in the capital of magic, and he certainly wasn't the last. Kuroo Tetsurou would know that better than anyone.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/82073891
IT'S FINALLY HERE. this one's pretty short, but fear not, the rest are a lot longer. i will probably post the next chapter next week to give myself some time to work on chapter 3. this fic is truly my pride and joy so i hope y'all like it
(edit: got so excited to share that i forgot to write anything about the actual contents djdhsjh)
@jolmund you've probably guessed, it's based on your cyberpunk prompt :D kuroo and tsukki are bounty hunters, akaashi is an android, and bokuto has some metal parts himself (an arm and a faulty heart). kuroo and tsukki managed to charm the other two into joining their crimes since they're already being hunted by the government
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"How many times have I told you about the instructions?" Kuroo croaked around the lit cigarette. "We go into a job with a plan for a reason, Akaashi."
Getting scolded by Kuroo-san was strange, especially as he was elbows deep inside the open panels of his back, tinkering with the damaged hardware. His touches sent tremors through his wires, and he couldn't tell if it was ticklish or something else entirely. Kuroo's words held no weight in those conditions, when Akaashi could barely register them.
Learning about Kuroo and Tsukishima's actual occupation had been a deep strike in the beginning, especially as a fugitive android. When they first found him, they took advantage of his faulty system and Bokuto-san's desperate need to trust someone other than a hunk of metal that threatened to shut down any minute, and helped them escape from the authorities under the guise of kindness. Kuroo fixed him and Bokuto's arm up
Haii since you said asks... I'm curious what l'appel du vide is about
(Yeah it's mostly cause of the French name. But I'm still curious why its called "the apple of the void")
fake french lover!! take your pommes out of here, in this household we're only taking calls!!
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The Honorable Marry Ann Nelham, the only daughter of the Hon. Thomas Nelham and the Hon. Fanny Nelham, the Baron and Baroness of Hastings, was debuting that year under her mother's close scrutiny.
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this is all i have OTL the rest is all in my head. so to explain the name, i saw a pinterest post describing this term as the urge to engage in destructive behavior in everyday life
its an original story set somewhere around the late regency era, and its about dear marry ann's debut which overlaps with her bastard brother's return from overseas, except he is acting very odd and came back with baggage (a brooding hunk of a man whose job seems to be keeping oriol out of trouble). oriol and good pal samuel got into some nasty shit on the continent that bleeds over to their return home, despite sam's best efforts. the three of them are all very weird about each other
kuroaka excerpt from my bsd wip because i haven't posted about them in way too long
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Akaashi was pressing salt into the stains, still not looking at him. These days it was hard getting him to do that.
"We both know that shirt's unsalvageable," Kuroo murmured. "We have spares in the van as always, not as crisply ironed as you like them, but better than walking around half naked."
Akaashi halted, dropping the button up in the sink, and leaned even more over on his hands. The sigh he let out was barely audible, but Kuroo was so attuned to his every movement that he had no trouble blocking everything out but him. His eyes were probably burning from wearing his contacts for so long — he'd been out of town for a warehouse inspection that night, and Kuroo could bet that he'd had no time to swap them for his glasses.
"Why are you here? You're an executive now."
"All the more reason to do whatever I want," Kuroo shrugged with his usual smile. "Maybe I just missed the crew, maybe I just missed you and needed an excuse to see you. You've barely been at HQ lately," he purred in his ear.
Akaashi's lids dropped as Kuroo's breath hit the side of his face and neck. He was going to hate Kuroo for playing with him before delivering the news.
"I'll report you for harassment, Kuroo-san," and that made his cheeks hurt because, he truly had missed Akaashi.
"Kuroo. Kuuurooo. Kuroo, Kuroo, Kuroo," she started singing his name out of nowhere. That had him spring up on his elbows from his eagle spread on the floor. She then whispered, "Tetsuurooou," dragging it out softly, her glossy lips curling around his given name sweetly. He couldn't tell if the slightly labored breathing was from the effort of speaking or from the kisses Daishou was still planting on her skin.
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Or, Kuroo, Mika and Daishou get high, suggest a threesome, consider getting a pidgeon or two and talk about their sex lives. Not necessarily in that order.
everything has its place (i wonder what space i take)
@zukki-week
written for day 4 of zukki week (relationship negotiations) but this is a part of my pirate au (which is day 5) so i guess take it however you want (be warned that no actual piracy is done)
A few good seconds passed, none of them knowing how to broach the topic. Suki's eyes glassed over with a practiced calm. She should have thought of what to say. She should have known what to say. They'd already danced around it for too long, and it was a miracle they even took the time to sit down to discuss it like adults.
Sokka closed the door to Yue's quarters — the only place on the ship even remotely private — behind the three of them. Suki, plenty familiar with the space, flopped on the bed like it was the most natural thing she could do, while Zuko hovered over her with uneasy, fleeting eyes, before taking a seat beside her slowly, like there was a possibility the bedsheet might burn his ass off. Suki patted her thigh, motioning for Sokka to join them, and he settled with his back against the wall, with his knee pressed to her hip.
In the end, Zuko was the one to break the silence. He was always the blunt one, the one to rip the bandage off and get it over with as fast as possible. "I don't think this is a good idea." 'This' being them, of course. His eyes were set on the blanket Aang had gifted Yue, a poorly knitted thing, well loved by their captain if the rumpled state it was in at the end of the bed was anything to go by.
Daring a look at Sokka, she found him already looking at her. He was expecting — hoping? — she would contradict Zuko, that she would come up with an argument, a sensible solution, an emotionally intelligent response that would prove him wrong.
Could she really when she couldn't help but agree with him?
She averted her eyes.
Sokka'd always been a hopeless romantic.
"Maybe the two of you could make it work, but. I have a responsibility after the war is over, whether I like it or not," Zuko continued after a beat. Right. He would go back to the Fire Nation and fix the damage done by the war as best as one person could and put his country back in the good graces of the world.
After finding out that his uncle wouldn't become the Firelord, Zuko shut down on them, despite respecting his decision. When he betrayed the Fire Nation officially, he gave up on the thought of one day leading his country to greatness. By the time he joined them, he deemed himself inadequate to repair years of propaganda and colonialism. He spiraled into self-doubt for a good few weeks before the crew had a sit down and properly planned how to tackle the issue of the Fire Nation. Now, he seemed to be motivated by this responsibility.
Despite his reluctance, there was a fire in his eyes she couldn't help but look at longingly.
Suki sighed. "I'm not even sure what I'll do after this is all over. Logically, I would go back home and train the next generation of Kyoshi Warriors." Thoughts of Kyoshi Island flowed through her, from before she met Sokka and Katara, from before Zuko's rogue crew found them, before Zhao's destruction touched them. She thought of Hidemi and Shufen and their little Shigeo and Jingyi, who probably wasn't so little anymore, of the warriors' quarters, of food and mountains and unagi. She thought of loneliness and feeling othered, of the elders' decision to refuse aid, which almost led to starvation, of feeling useless in the grand scheme of things. "I don't know, though," she ended softly.
Something heavy settled over Sokka, a sort of finality, a hopelessness she didn't want to think she and Zuko tainted him with. "Yeah, I want to help rebuild my village, maybe even try out for chief after dad retires. I know Katara would have wanted to if Aang didn't put that wanderlust in her, so. Gotta seize the chance before she changes her mind." It felt a little like he was trying to convince himself. To what? To not throw away his future so he could... so he could be with them? She avoided looking at him, again, feeling a sort of shame at her thoughts.
They all avoided looking at each other, still not bringing themselves to say it, instead excusing themselves from the conversation by voicing everything standing between them.
It was kind of pathetic.
Sokka would have said it. He already talked to Yue, and even if Suki didn't know how it went down, she knew Sokka, and how much he felt and how hard it was to keep pushing it down. She knew Yue, and she knew she needed time to find herself, to find the world after living her whole life in a birdcage.
Maybe Suki just needed time, too.
The thought of leaving it all behind and just traveling to her heart's content, of breaking out of the isolationism installed in her by the Kyoshi Island made her feel strangely guilty. The war would end, but it wouldn't truly be over. Healing took a long time and a lot of effort, and starting back up again when it felt like it was all falling apart. She was supposed to be there and help, it was part of her duty as a leader and someone her people looked up to.
But oh, how tempting it was to fuck it all and join Yue, to take her place as her second when everyone would leave to fix their homes into a new normal, to discover everything again by her side like two children falling in love with the outside.
It was a selfish thing to want.
Duty was a hard thing to bear.
"I do... I do like you two. A bit more than I'm comfortable with," she braved out, feeling her heart in her throat. If Sokka could do it, she could. She could face her feelings and get it over with, and maybe after that, she could sleep for the next hundred years like Aang.
"Uhm... me too." Somehow, Zuko surprised her every time. His face was red as a shrimp lobster, the words sounded clawed out, and he frankly looked like he'd rather be anywhere but there, but it was a step forward.
Sokka buried his face in his hands, letting out a whimper. She patted his thigh in sympathy. Taking a deep breath, he uncovered his face, though his eyes were still closed. "I am in love with you!" he raised his voice, loud and clear, as if fearing they wouldn't hear him.
She knew. She knew, but it still felt like a punch in the gut, and warmth began traveling to her head, threatening to boil her brain straight out of her ears. Zuko was in a similar situation, looking at Sokka with big incredulous eyes.
That knowledge had sat in the back of her mind like a coiling snake waiting to strike when she was most vulnerable, but for some time she'd just put the lid over the pot, knowing it wasn't the right time (it would never be the right time). The intensity at which Sokka was able to feel always shocked her.
Tears began pooling rapidly in her eyes, and, in a fit of panic, she slapped Sokka's thigh as hard as she was able in that state.
"Hey! What was that for?" he howled, finally opening his eyes.
"For-for just saying that like that! Jerk!" Zuko snarled in her place, very eloquently, but she agreed wholeheartedly. Being loved was hard to hear, and even harder to accept. She was surprised he didn't straight up punch Sokka for just blurting it out when they barely managed to say they liked each other.
"You're a jerk, jerk," Sokka pouted, rubbing the place she hit him.
"So what do we do now?" Now that it was out in the open, Suki found herself at a loss. The duties that awaited them after the war weighed down hard on their shoulders, with seemingly no future for the three of them together without sacrificing something much grander than themselves.
Zuko, somber as always, pointed out, "There is a possibility one of us might not come back alive."
"I really don't want to think about that right now, Zuko."
Suki sighed, feeling the weight of the world settling on her chest.
"Are we willing to get attached when we know it won't work?" Like it was a certainty that no matter what they would do, it would end in heartbreak.
