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manireads · 4 years

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Try Again

soulmate au! sunwoo x reader

wc: 3230

notes: trying again hopefully this gets in the tags this time.

check out my masterlist, pinned on my blog.

“I’m sorry but no. I have to go now.”

I froze where I stood. This is the moment that I had been waiting for all my life. The moment where I feel that euphoria that everyone described. The tingling fingers, the weightless, the jelly-like legs. The moment couldn’t be more romantic. Wintertime but not freezing. Soft snow falling catching on my clothes and in my hair. I was leaving the restaurant, where I celebrated my friend's birthday. He was walking in when our eyes met. I stood there feeling it all, my heart beating wildly, only to be shot down in an instance.

He walked away from me and into the building and I tried to stop the tears from falling down my face. I wanted to run but I needed to take one last look at him. I turned and watched him catch up with another woman, he kissed her on the cheek and she smiled brightly at him. I felt sick to my stomach. I watched as she talked to him and he responded casually before moving to the host’s desk. She turned back towards the entrance and for a second we made eye contact. She was beautiful. Long hair that flowed so effortlessly, a soft feminine face, cherry lips, and bright eyes. He wanted her, not me.

Embarrassed, I looked away, pretending to be distracted by my phone. I tapped away at the screen, hoping that she would look away from me and wouldn’t catch the sadness that washed over me. By the time I had looked up, both of them were gone, probably on their way to their table to enjoy their time together.

Everyone has a soulmate. Things have been like this since the dawn of time. When you’re young, they tell you that you could meet your soulmate at any moment. No one ever knew when it would happen but you would know when you did. The feeling is something you’ve never felt before and the only thing that you will be able to see, at that moment, is your soulmate. Most people go looking for their destined other half, others wait for destiny to bring them together naturally. No matter the path you take, you will meet your soulmate during this lifetime. Statistically, 87% percent of soulmates stay together and build a future together. But the other 13% are rejected and decide to live their own lives. I was now a part of that 13%. I was rejected.

I spent weeks isolated and crying in my apartment. Grieving for the future that I could have had. I had tried to hide it from my friends. Most of them had found their soulmates or were still waiting to be guided to them by destiny. But when I didn’t respond to them for a while, they came over and confronted me.

“You know we aren’t leaving until you tell us what’s wrong?”

“Kevin,” A shaky breath left my mouth. I didn’t want to cry in front of them. They didn’t need to be caught up in my sadness. “I don't know what to tell you. There’s nothing to tell you.”

“Love, you look like you’ve been crying for days,” Jacob said, taking a seat next to me on the couch, placing a mug of warm tea in my hand. I thanked him softly and he nodded before wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Just tell us what happened. You’ve ghosted us since Eric’s birthday.” Kevin came closer to the two of us on the couch, trying to coax an answer out of me. But I stayed silent. I didn't want to admit it. I didn’t want to be seen as unwanted.

“Alright, if you don’t want to tell us right now, then that’s okay. But can we at least stay here and cheer you up a bit.” Kevin asked, tentatively. I nodded and I could see a smile grow on his face. “Good because there’s this movie I wanted to watch with you but you missed movie night last week.”

I could feel myself become more relaxed as the hours passed. It was nice to be around them again and reminded me of how much I missed them, especially hearing them banter with each other. The two of them were going back and forth, trying to figure out if a hotdog was a sandwich when the words fell from my mouth.

“I met him.” The two of them stopped and faced me.

“Met who?” Jacob asked.

“I met my soulmate.”

“Oh my god, when? Who are they? Why haven’t we met them yet?” I wanted to cringe hard at the excitement that was plastered on Kevin’s face. His smile was large and as he waited for me to delve into more detail. Jacob on the other side of me, looked just as expecting but more hesitant as he could almost sense something wasn’t right.

“His name is Kim Sunwoo. I met them outside of Eric’s party when I left early. You know, because I had to go to work the next day.” They both nodded, remembering that night, how they had both been trying to keep me out later but finally had let me go after holding me hostage for hours.

“Then what’s wrong, Y/N?’’ Jacob’s soft voice made emotions well up within me. I took a deep breath in forcing myself to get through this conversation without completely breaking down.

“He rejected me. He was there with someone else, another girl. When I was trying to find more information on him, I found the girl’s Instagram.” I remember coming across her account, she had tagged the restaurant in her pictures. And even though I had tried to stop myself after finding the bare minimum on my soulmate, I couldn’t stop myself from scrolling down her profile, hurting myself with picture after picture that she posted of him and with him. They looked so happy and that’s everything I wanted. “She’s his girlfriend. They’ve been together for years. High school sweethearts.”

I watched as the shock set into their faces. Kevin tried to apologize but I didn’t let him. He was excited that I could have found the person I was meant to be with for the rest of my life. It wasn’t his fault that it didn’t end up the way that we had all expected. They spent the rest of the night consoling me, telling me that it was his loss and reassuring me that everything happens for a reason. Kevin kept telling me that there were people who didn’t live with their soulmates and still even found love. Some people had soulmates who had died and they’d gone on to live happy fulfilling lives with people who didn’t have soulmates as well. That this moment wasn’t the end for me. I pretended to agree but even then, I felt like it wasn’t possible for me. That loneliness was my only option.

They say time heals everything and well, I don’t know who ‘they’ are but, they might be onto something. It took me a while to figure out my next steps. But slowly I started to pick myself up off of my living room floor and live and again, with Jacob and Kevin by my side the whole time. We decided that we’d keep my soulmate a secret from the rest of our friends until I was completely ready to tell them and in the meantime, I tried to reimagine what my life would be like without the person I was destined to be with. It was hard, some days I found myself scrolling through his social media aimlessly until Kevin had caught me one time and called me out on it.

“I get that he’s your soulmate but doing this isn’t going to help you better. Plus, lurking on his page like this is kinda creepy.”

I hated to admit it but he was right. From then on I stopped checking his page and from there it only got better. I started to hang out with my friends more and I even went on a couple of dates. I was starting to become a bolder version of myself. Unknowingly, in the past, I had let the idea of finding my soulmate hold me back for so long. It stopped me from taking risks and opportunities that I'd never even considered before so when my job offered me a chance to work in a different country, I took it without hesitation. I didn’t even know where I was going at first, but I was excited to find out that they were sending me to help establish a new branch of the company in Thailand. When it told my friends they were happy for me although a little sad that I would be leaving them for 6 months. They all helped me pack up my small apartment and sent me off with well-wishes at the airport, telling me to be safe and to make sure I called them when I finally touched down. That day, before I boarded the plane, I blocked him and his girlfriend, so that every time I went back to either page it would be blank. It felt symbolic of me starting over again.

My time in Thailand, came and went and it was winter time again when I returned. I was left to my own devices for a couple of hours, I planned to stay with Jacob, who was still at his job until I could get a place of my own. Having nowhere else to go, I decided to settle into a small dive bar that I used to go to all the time with my friends. The bartender greeted me warmly and indulged in all my stories about Thailand. From behind me, the front door swung open and a group of loudly talking people walked in. The bartender excused himself from me to go tend to the group who had made themselves comfortable on the other side of the bar.

Now by myself, I turned back to the drink that I had been nursing for a little while and threw my head back, drinking it all in one swift motion. I shook off the chill from the alcohol and that when my eyes met his.

From across the bar, amongst the group of people that just came in, stood Sunwoo, staring back at me. A warm sensation flutters over me, familiar to the first time we met but not quite the same. It isn’t uncommon for soulmates that haven’t seen each other in a long time to relive that initial rush but the feeling was stronger than what other people described. Maybe because it’s been so long. I knew he felt it too, as a small gasp left his lips. The rush of warmth was stopped as reality hit me again. As much as I enjoyed this feeling, I would never lead to anything between the two of us and sadness filled the hole that cozy feeling left. Immediately, I started to pack up my things, shoving my phone into my purse and shrugging my coat on as fast as I could. I pulled out a 20 dollar bill to cover my tab, a little too much but a nice tip for the bartender who kept me company all this time. I gathered my things as fast as possibly shoving my wallet and phone into my purse but before I could leave the bar, a soft hand was placed on my shoulder. I looked over to see no other than Sunwoo standing there with a nervous look on his face.

“Y/n, right?” He knew my name. Something I didn’t think he’d know seeing as how he brushed me off the first time we met. I nodded not trusting myself to speak. I watched as he took in a deep breath gathering himself. “Could I buy you a drink?”

“I - I um …” I wanted to say no but the words wouldn’t come out of my mouth. He kept his eyes on me hoping silently for me to say yes.

“Is everything alright over here?” From behind the bar, the bartender nodded to the two of us, obviously sensing that something wasn’t right.

“Uh, yeah. Everything is good. I um,” I trailed off taking a glance back towards Sunwoo, who had taken his hand off my shoulder and was looking at the ground quite solemnly. “He was just going to buy me a drink.” From the side of my eyes, I notice Sunwoo perk up and look at me bewildered that I had accepted his offer and, to be honest, I was surprised at myself too.

We sat down at a table on the opposite side of the room, he had already finished his drink, swallowing it down nearly in one gulp while mine stayed untouched. I couldn’t bear to look at him, scared that the sadness I had worked so hard to suppress would come bubbling out of me so I chose to stare out the window. This was beyond awkward. What do you say to the man that broke your heart? I glanced over to him and his eyes were staring into the cup between his hands. I was starting to get annoyed, he wanted me to stay here so why wasn’t he talking? He was the one who rejected me. I looked down at my phone. 5:34 pm. Jacob would be home by now.

“Look, I have to go. My friend is waiting for me and - ” I said getting up from my seat but before I could get far enough away his hand grasped on to mine. Shivers went up my hands and through my whole body. Another thing that happens with soulmates but it had just dawned on me at that moment was that it was the first time we touched skin to skin.

“I’m sorry. Please stay.” He looked up at me from his seat, his pleading desperate but quiet. Nearly washed out by the noise in the bar. I sat back down, finally looking him in his eyes.

“Fine but I do have someone waiting for me.” I couldn’t hide the annoyance in my voice. “What do you want from me?”

He was quiet on the other end of the table. I could see him pressing his thumbs together anxiously as he tried to gather himself as I watched in silence.

“Why did you block me?”

“Huh?”

“On Instagram. You blocked me. Why?”

Now I was struck silent. How did he know that I had blocked him?

“That was a long time ago, how did -”

“Six months ago.”

“How did you know I blocked you?” I asked warily. He breathed out like he had been holding his breath this whole time. He leaned back in his chair and ran his hand through his hair. It seemed like he was willing to talk so I copied him, getting more comfortable in my chair.

“After we met, I tried not to think much about you. I was happy, in a good relationship, and I didn't want to change that so quickly, especially because we had been together for so long. Everything was fine for a little bit but I did feel bad for how I treated you that night. I want you to know that I should have never done that and I’m sorry.” I nodded, understanding where he was coming from and he continued. “Everything was fine for a little while. But she told me about an account that was watching all of her Instagram stories but didn't follow her. When she showed it to me, I recognized you immediately. That when I started checking up on your profile.”

“I didn’t mean to stalk or anything I just wanted to know about my soulmate,” I said blushing and embarrassed at the fact that I had been caught this whole time. I took a swig of the drink in front of me hoping it would help cool me down.

“It’s okay. I did the same thing.”

“What now?”

“Well, I kept up to date with you on your account. So much to the point where my girlfriend started to notice. She kept asking about it but I just told her that it was nothing. But one night she kept pushing it and I finally told her that we were, you know, soulmates.” he said gesturing between the two of us. “We got into a big fight over it. She was mad that I didn’t tell her. Eventually, we talked it out and we broke up. She didn’t want to keep me from my soulmate. We’re still friends, however at a distance, and she tried to encourage me to talk to you. But I was too scared too. I was afraid you’d reject me as I rejected you.”

I watched him closely, noticing the weight he carried on his shoulders. Saying all of this must be a lot for him.

“But by the time I had the courage to do so, you had already blocked me. So when I saw you I thought ‘Fate must be giving me another chance’ so I took it.” It took a moment to process everything I was hearing but it had lit a tiny spark in me about all the possibilities for us but I needed him to ignite the flame and make it bigger. I needed confirmation to hear the words from his mouth.

“So what do you want from me, Sunwoo?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“A do-over. A chance to make this, us, work. I know I messed up and I regret it every day but I was scared. I never thought that I was ever going to meet my soulmate, so when I finally did, I was too scared to take the leap. But now I’m ready, I just hope I’m not too late and you haven’t given up on me yet. I want you, Y/n. ”

I turned my head away from him, wiping the small tears from my eyes after hearing the words that I always wanted to hear. My soulmate wanted me. I didn’t have to be lonely and bitter for the rest of my life or hide the fact that deep down I still yearned after the idea of being with the person that was perfectly made for me. It was like everything was falling into place. I took a deep breath, collecting myself before looking at him again.

“Fine, but if we do this we start from the very beginning. No hard feelings or anything. Just two people, soulmates, getting to know each other. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.

We stayed there for the rest of the night, talking like I had imagined we would have a whole year ago. I nearly forgot about Jacob, who let me know that he was extremely worried about me after the fact. That night I could feel the sadness I had held on to for a whole year slowly dissipate and be replaced with the excitement for my future with him. I was ready to smile with him, laugh with him, be happy with him. I was ready to do everything together, from cheesy over the top dates to simply spending time with each other. I was ready to try again.

#the boyz imagines #the boyz reactions #the boyz scenarios #sunwoo x reader #kim sunwoo

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livexdolan · 4 years

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Sushi ~e.d

A/n: ok so, yes, this is another Ethan story, I’m sorry I can’t help it, he’s my baby. Anywho- this is based off a lucid dream I had A WHILE ago- but are we surprised this took me so long to write? (the answer’s no lol) I was just mentioning the whole dream thing because, this is my story so of course it doesn’t make complete sense- sue me.

Summary: You’re going out for dinner to your favorite Japanese restaurant that happens to be packed. The only available seats are at the sushi bar next to two young guys You don’t realize you know the two men until it’s too late- but is this just a blessing in disguise?

Warnings; Fluff, anxiety, fluff, and, oh hey- some more fluff.

Word Count: 2.2k

Tags; @episkygrant (my bup :)) and @georgia302

ALSO- THE TWINS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE 18 IN THIS SO DON’T COME FOR ME!! OK, ENJOY :))

“Would you just walk?!” I exclaimed, pushing- or trying I should say- my 6 4’ dad through the little curtain that has a very large sumo wrestler that never fails to creep me out.

My mom just sighs behind us, “Kevin would you stop being an ass, we’re all- oh,” my mom stops mid-scold. We all stand close to the corner as we look around our favorite local Japanese restaurant.

The place is packed, every table and booth occupied by families or teens chatting loudly. Waitresses move around quickly table to table and I just happen to see that the sushi bar seems to have empty seats. “Good evening, Welcome to Wasabi, is it just the three of you tonight?” The hostess asks us.

“Y-yes, just the three of us,” My mom replies still seemingly shocked at how many people are in the small place.

“Okay, I’m sorry but there’s a 30-minute wait on any booths and tables right now-”

“Can’t we sit at the sushi bar?” I say, pointing over to the counter where two people are sitting, three seats open on the left of them, and three on the right of them. My parents look at each other, me, then the hostess, my dad raising his eyebrows as though he’s asking if that’s okay.

“Yes, of course, I’m sorry I should’ve asked if you’d be fine sitting there,” She smiles at us, grabbing three menus.

“Oh, it’s totally cool, no worries,” My mom smiles reassuring the hostess, who now that I’m getting a closer look at, seems to be new.

We make our way over to the bar when one of the men sitting at the counter turns to the other, giving me a view of his side profile that I know way too well. I can’t help stopping completely, my mom bumping into me and asking what’s wrong.

My throat feels tight, my hands are clammy and my mouth feels like someone just stuffed cotton in it. “Y/n, are you okay?” My mom questions worry evident in her eyes as she searched my glossed over ones.

I can’t speak, I can only move my eyes between my mom and the two tall, loud men sitting at the sushi bar. My mouth keeps opening and I can only imagine that I look something like a fish out of water. No way is it them.

My dad sits next to them and looks back, realizing my mom and I are not following him anymore his brows furrow and he looks around confused at what’s happening. “Oh- honey is that- are those the-” I cut my mom off by nodding my head rapidly.

“I-” I clear my throat trying to dislodge the lump in my throat, “I’m going to go to the bathroom,” I push past my mom and keep my head down as I pass the sushi bar and avoid my dad’s worried looks.

I glance up and see the older twin filming a snap video of his younger twin messily eating a piece of sushi and they both start laughing. I walk down the small hallway and go into the bathroom. Looking myself in the mirror I pray that this isn’t a dream.

Okay, breathe, it’s just the Dolan Twins sitting at the sushi bar at the local restaurant in your town, sitting next to your parents at the sushi bar. I look at myself in the mirror and try to fix my hair a little, shifting my shirt out of habit. I add a little bit of chapstick to my lips.

I take a deep breath and walk back out into the loud restaurant. When I get back to the sushi bar I’m surprised- to say the least- to see that everyone’s shifted down to the right one seat, leaving me with nowhere to sit.

That’s not what has my mouth hanging open- it’s the loud obnoxious laughs coming from not only my parents- but the twins as well. Holy shit. My parents are laughing and joking with Ethan and Grayson fucking Dolan.

I slowly make my way over to my mom who’s sitting in the seat that was supposed to be mine. I shyly tap her shoulder, she turns around and gives me a soft smile, “Oh, honey! We had to move down but there’s a seat next to Ethan.”

I bite my lip and look up, seeing that I’ve become the center for attention. I make eye contact with the older twin and he smiles at me, calming me a little bit as I start to stumble over to the seat next to him my hands start to sweat and I crack my knuckles out of habit when nervous, “O-ok.”

I try my best to gracefully slide into the high seat next to him without leaning too close to him. He does a quick scan over my body, his tongue coming out to lick his lips before he clears his throat and looks up at me. Once he notices that I’m already staring at him he blushes, and I feel like my entire body flushes and is on fire.

He sends me a shy smile and I bite my lip to hide the wide grin that is fighting its way onto my face. I feel like I’ve just won a medal or something, I made Ethan Dolan blush.

“Ok, so I’m Ethan, and I’m assuming you’re Y/n. Your parents told us a bit about yourself.”

“Oh God,” I groan, putting my head in my hands and pushing my hair back before looking at him again and very shyly asking, “what’d they tell you?”

He chuckles at my reaction and I realize that his laugh is my favorite sound- on and off-camera. His dimples show as he replies casually, in a cocky tone, “Just that you’re 17, a senior, really into YouTube…” he trails off and sends me a teasing smirk.

“Great!” I say sarcastically, “so they told you I watch y’alls videos?”

“And that you might have some Dolan Twins merch in the back of your closet- I was a little upset to hear you don’t wear it much anymore, to be honest.”

I drop my head to the counter with a small strangled noise then sit back up straight and clear my throat looking him dead in his hazel eyes, “Ok, look- stop making that face,” I point an accusatory finger at him as he bites his lip to suppress his smile and holds his hands up in surrender, I roll my eyes at him, “I’m not like- I don’t know everything about you and a bunch of weird facts and shit like ‘Did you know Ethan Dolan sprained his right knee when he was 4 years old after his sister pushed him down the stairs?’ Ok? Yes, I watch your videos, yes I follow you on social media, yes I’ve been watching you since like before 4OU, Yes- ok, I used to have a fan account at one point- but I’m not like that anymore. I got your merch for my birthday a year ago and I- I don’t really fit it anymore so I don’t wear it. Ok,” I take a deep breath, “that’s it.”

“Wow- okay, a lot of information to process but I think I get it now. I’m sorry for teasing you, I was just joking.”

“I know you were- but I also know that you two deal with crazy fans and I want you to know I’m not one of them.”

He sends me a smile and is about to say something when we’re interrupted by the waitress placing my food in front of me. My mouth starts to water at the sight of one of my favorite meals- shrimp fried rice. “Damn, that looks good,” Ethan hums from next to me.

I look up at him through my lashes, “You want to split it with me? There’s no way I’ll be able to finish this, I never do,” I laugh and gesture to the bowl.

“Oh no, it’s-” his eyebrows raise at my stern look, and I slightly push the bowl closer to him, putting it right between us, he sighs and gives me a crooked smile, picking up his silverware, “I guess one bite wouldn’t hurt, right?” I nod my head, agreeing with him, and hand him the soy sauce.

Twenty minutes later we were laughing and we had all fallen into a very comfortable flow of chatter and silence and my nerves were dissolved almost fully. My mom and dad get up with Grayson to go over and pay the bill while Ethan and I finish up our food.

As Ethan steals a shrimp from my designated side of the bowl- again- I hit his fork with mine causing him to drop it and his fork hits the side of the bowl with a loud clatter, making everyone look at us as we both just look at each other. We both grow red in the face and start laughing.

Once our laughter died down a little I realized I was getting a little chilly so I set my fork down and rubbed my bare arms to try and get some warmth. “You cold?”

Ethan’s voice startles me slightly and I just smile at him before grabbing my fork again to steal my shrimp back, “Just a little, but m’fine. It’s not that bad.”

He sighs and shakes his head slightly, “Well, I don’t believe you,” I’m about to question him when he stands up abruptly. He starts tugging his large hoodie off his body, as he pulls it over his head, his long-sleeve comes up a little. I blush before quickly averting my eyes from his prominent v-line and try to keep my mind from diving head-first into the gutter, “Here,” he says in a soft, but commanding voice, pushing the hoodie towards me.

I sigh and look up at him, “What’re the chances of you still giving me that hoodie even if I tell you I’m really not that cold and I’ll be fine?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

He smiles at me, his dimples showing and the mole on his cheek raising slightly. He shrugs and pushes it into my lap, “Very high.”

I shake my head and slide out of my seat, “Fine,” I pull the hoodie on over my head and as I pull my hair out the back, I feel a hand against my face lightly pushing the hair out of my face.

My breath hitches as my eyes meet Ethan’s. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against my cheek before going to my ear, “What’re the chances of you giving me your phone number so we can hang out again and keep in touch?”

I look up at him through my lashes, grabbing his hand and leaning up to his ear, whispering just as softly as he did, “Very high.”

I pull away slowly and he smiles at me. When I return the smile he winks. I snort and roll my eyes, grabbing my phone off the bar, I hand it to him as he pushes his phone into my hand. Already pulled up to a new contact page, I put in my number and name into his phone. I quickly open his camera and take a picture with my tongue out, fingers up in a ‘peace’ symbol with my right eye dropped into a wink, I set that as my contact photo before he suddenly grabs me and pulls me into his arms.

I gasp as my back meets his hard chest and he wraps one arm around me, my phone in his other hand, the camera pulled up and pointing towards our faces, “Smile baby,” he kisses the side of my head quickly before smiling at the camera. My face flushes deep red and I grin at the camera. The butterflies in my stomach from the pet name are so strong that I feel like I might fall over.

“Okay, lovebirds, let’s go,” Grayson’s voice brings us back to reality and I realize that my parents have already stepped outside.

We walk outside and I pull the sleeves of Ethan’s hoodie further down so that I can grab them with my hands, making ‘hoodie paws’ as some people put it. I look down to hide the constant blush that’s on my face when Ethan wraps his arm around my waist again. I look over at my parents, worried to see their reactions only to find them smiling softly at us before looking away once they saw I was watching them.

I turn and bury my head in Ethan’s chest, wanting to feel his warmth again and have him hug me. I wrap my arms around his neck and he ducks his head down to put it in the crook of my neck, his scent completely engulfs just like it did when I put his hoodie on and I smile at the sweet, soothing smell. We can faintly hear my parents getting Grayson’s number and bidding him goodbye.

We reluctantly pull away from each other, very slowly. Ethan smiles at me and kisses my nose, “I promise you- we’re going to hang out soon. I’ll call you later, yeah?”

“You better,” I say back and lean up to kiss his nose.

I turn out of his grip and go to quickly hug Grayson, “It was so nice meeting you,” I grin up at him and he mirrors my expression.

“It was awesome meeting you too, Y/n, you have some pretty cool parents,” he chuckles.

I look over at my parents saying goodbye to Ethan before my mom catches my eye and winks. I turn back to Grayson, “Yeah, I really do.”

#its a shit ending #what'd you expect #ethan x reader #ethan dolan #grayson and ethan #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan smut #grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan smut #grayson and ethan dolan #dolan twins #grayson x reader #dolantwins #dolan twins smut #my writing

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

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TLTNL- FELIX FELICIS

Remus helped her out at once, speaking while trying to pull his thoughts together at the same time to somehow get an answer. "I'm wondering now if Voldemort has, cursed objects?" It didn't seem right, as even if he did, what could be the significance of that in relation to Harry surviving the prophecy?

"Your thinking that necklace that cursed Katie belonged to him?" Sirius tried to understand where he was heading, his mind on an entirely different matter, like how all this tied back to Voldemort wanting to go after Prongs for any significant reason.

"You think Voldemort tried to slip him one over the summer, and failed? That's what could have started all this?" She prompted, her mind lingering on their old headmasters injury. It was hard to believe he'd fall for such a ruse though, and she still felt like they were missing the real significance of what was going on here.

"If Malfoy's supposed to be helping with something, maybe Harry's right, and he's trying to get one of these treasures of his into the school somehow. For a reason that can't be good." James uneasily agreed.

"And it walked right in the front door because of me," Harry said, but the nausea wasn't quite right for that feeling, he was sure they weren't on the mark now.

"We could be entirely wrong," Remus quickly disagreed. "When he was young, he kept treasures on his person, I'm sure he treated those like a secret. Why hand them out now?"

"Because now he knows how to curse people," Harry rebutted far harsher than he meant to, but he refused to let this theory slip away from him, back into the recesses of his mind. He was right, and he wouldn't let this one go.

When no one else offered anything, he reached eagerly for the book, but Lily held it to her instead. "It's getting late, we should probably stop for dinner before anyone else nearly gets murdered."

The dower comment wasn't much to wet their appetites, but no one disagreed either. Harry picked restlessly along his meal, not even realizing what he was eating. This really was one of his more mild years, he had to admit, and yet with each passing page he could feel something terrible lurking on the edge of his mind, waiting for him to let his guard down and spring upon him.

It was as noticeable to the others as it was the guilt they felt for seeing it. Sirius had tried in vain several times through the meal to catch Harry's attention and put him on a lighter topic of conversation, but it was clear he would not be pulled from whatever unhappy thoughts he was lingering in. They almost wished it wasn't his turn to read, so that they could try and put off a little longer and put him in some sort of good mood before he started, but in his preoccupation he hardly even seemed to recognize his audience as he began.

Harry had Herbology first thing the following morning. He had been unable to tell Ron and Hermione about his lesson with Dumbledore over breakfast for fear of being over-heard,

"They didn't wait up for you this time?" James demanded in mock outrage far louder than was called for, but he was still as determined as the others to snag Harry's attention.

He barely glanced up, muttering about their prefect duties that night in answer before plowing on.

but he filled them in as they walked across the vegetable patch toward the greenhouses. The weekend's brutal wind had died out at last; the weird mist had returned and it took them a little longer than usual to find the correct greenhouse.

Ron quietly said what a scary thought it was, the kid You-Know-Who, as they took their places around one of the gnarled Snargaluff stumps that formed this terms project, and began pulling on their protective gloves. He didn't get why Dumbledore was showing him all this. It was sort of interesting, but what was the point?

Harry agreed he wasn't sure as he put on his gum shield*, but Dumbledore had promised it would help him survive, though his words were now slightly contorted.

"I'm sure they can still understand you with that in your mouth," Sirius rolled his eyes, he found them bulky and extremely annoying to talk through. It didn't help Moony had once given him one on his birthday as a hint.

Hermione earnestly pointed out how fascinating it all was, it made absolute sense to know as much about Voldemort as possible. How else would they find his weaknesses?

"I'm not disagreeing," Lily said grudgingly.

"It wouldn't kill the man to get to the point a little faster though," James huffed, he really felt like this was all dragging a bit.

Harry changed the subject and asked how Slughorn's party had gone.

Hermione said enjoyable for the most part. He prattled on a bit about all the famous people he knew, but he also invited a few of them, like Gweong Jones, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies.

Harry beamed, and didn't wait for anyone to ask why, "I hope Ginny was at that one then, she'd have loved that! It's her favorite team!"

Professor Sprout came over then to tell them to get to work, Neville already had his first pod.

"I demand a reason I need to fight with a plant rather than chat with my friends, the second is definitely more useful for my life," Sirius huffed.

They looked around; sure enough, there sat Neville with a bloody lip and several nasty scratches along the side of his face, but clutching an unpleasantly pulsating green object about the size of a grapefruit.

"Was he working all by himself?" Lily asked, impressed. She often did as well, and especially in that class it could prove difficult with some of these larger plants, this one especially. It had taken her at least the first twenty minutes of class to manage this, and she was sure from this conversation they hadn't been talking that long.

Harry had already agreed he was and moved on.

Ron quickly agreed to appease her, but waited until she'd walked away before muttering to Harry they should have used Muffliato.

"She still would have noticed you aren't working," Remus disagreed.

"Yeah, then she would have likely even taken away points, putting a spell up trying to distract her," James agreed with a sigh.

Hermione at once, like she always did, looked intensely cross at the thought of the Half-Blood Prince and his spells.

Lily smiled privately to herself, really wondering at what Hermione's reaction was going to be if she learned the origins of that book. She really wasn't even sure if Harry did, though she'd very likely inform him at the end of the year when the teacher would no longer be there, for whatever reason she still wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Now she changed the subject by telling them to get to work.

They all took deep breaths and then dived at the gnarled stump between them.

It sprang to life at once; long, prickly, bramble like vines flew out of the top and whipped through the air. One tangled itself in Hermione's hair, and Ron beat it back with a pair of secateurs; Harry succeeded in trapping a couple of vines and knotting them together; a hole opened in the middle of all the tentacle like branches; Hermione plunged her arm bravely into this hole, which closed like a trap around her elbow; Harry and Ron tugged and wrenched at the vines, forcing the hole to open again, and Hermione snatched her arm free, clutching in her fingers a pod just like Neville's. At once, the prickly vines shot back inside, and the gnarled stump sat there looking like an innocently dead lump of wood.

"Lovely things, aren't they," James wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"I remember I once tried to feed some snotty little third year into one for asking why I was in the wrong common room that morning," Sirius smirked. "What?" He demanded of Lily's agitated look. "He came out with a dozen of those little pods, I really should have gotten a thanks!"

Ron casually suggested he wasn't planning on putting one of these in his garden as he wiped sweat from his face.

"No Lily," James said at once when she opened her mouth.

"Oh, but, the pods-" she began to wheedle.

James purposefully wouldn't look into her pouting face, knowing he'd cave in an instant to her ever growing garden idea.

Then Remus helpfully tacked in, "actually, I wouldn't mind helping prune this one, perhaps even give it a snack from time to time. See how Padfoot likes it," he finished with an obvious look at his friend, who scowled and pressed his hand to his heart in betrayal.

Harry still couldn't be distracted by any of this. Not his memories of wrestling a plant, his family having just a nice conversation around him, even Ginny's briefly coming to mind had faded just as quickly so that he wasn't aware of anything anymore than the gaping hole in his mind where the answer to Voldemort, to everything this year should sit. He wanted to skip right past all of this, find Dumbledore's next lesson and keep going with that and come back for this mess later, but he knew the others would never agree.

Hermione held the pulsating pod at arm's length; Harry handed over a bowl and she dropped the pod into it with a look of disgust on her face.

Professor Sprout called to them not to be squeamish and pop it fresh.

Hermione decided to continue their interrupted conversation as though a lump of wood had not just attacked them,

"What do you mean that's not perfectly normal?" James politely asked.

Lily couldn't tell if he was kidding that time.

about Slughorn's parties, and how Harry had been invited to the Christmas one. Slughorn had specifically asked her to check Harry's available dates to be sure he could come.

"I will demote her to passing friend along with Neville if she didn't lie!" Sirius said at once.

That did get Harry's attention, he never really did like it when they made cracks at Hermione like that, even in defense of him. That was his friend after all, so he swiftly returned, "you'd have done the same thing if one of these two had annoyed you so much recently."

Sirius contemplated that for a moment, before nodding along and saying, "true, revenge and forcing them to live it with me at the same time. Alright, I'll take it back."

"Good," Harry chuckled. "I'm the only one allowed to demote my best friends from anything, and it won't ever be happening."

They were all just pleased Harry had finally reacted normally to something!

Harry groaned. Meanwhile, Ron, who was attempting to burst the pod in the bowl by putting both hands on it, standing up, and squashing it as hard as he could, asked angrily, that this was just another party for Slughorn's favorites?

Hermione said yes, and the pod flew out from under Ron's fingers and hit the green house glass, rebounding onto the back of Professor Sprout's head and knocking off her old, patched hat.

"Well she can't say you aren't working anymore," Remus said with chipper.

Harry went to retrieve the pod; when he got back, Hermione was saying, she wasn't the one to name it the Slug Club.

Ron repeated the name with a sneer worthy of Malfoy.

"Ugh," Harry heard those around him mutter, but he honestly couldn't have put a better comparison at the time. He was sure it was unintentional on Ron's part, but it didn't mean Harry enjoyed it either. He braced himself anyways, getting the feeling Ron may be getting just a touch on his nerves of late, it definitely wasn't declining the more the Slug Club was brought up.

He insisted the name was pathetic, and so were these parties. Was Slughorn going to make her and McLaggen King and Queen Slugs?

James couldn't help but snort a bit at that, it was quite comical. Incidentally, didn't that make him and Lily heirs to that throne?

Hermione was turning scarlet now as she said they were allowed to bring guests, but if he thought it was so stupid she wouldn't bother asking him!

"Ha, that's brilliant!" Lily chuckled. "She certainly put him in a spot, deciding not to share this until after he'd badmouthed it all."

"Now if he goes, it'll be obvious he's only doing it for her company," James agreed, finding Hermione quite clever, though that wasn't anything new.

Harry suddenly wished the pod had flown a little farther, so that he need not have been sitting here with the pair of them.

"What's with you?" Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Unlike you two privileged souls, these were my two best mates having this right in front of me, not one of them whom you didn't have to pick sides for," Harry finished with a huff, feeling it was obvious.

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look before deciding it was lucky no one in their group had ever succumbed to this problem.

Unnoticed by either, he seized the bowl that contained the pod and began to try and open it by the noisiest and most energetic means he could think of; unfortunately, he could still hear every word of their conversation.

"I actually wanted details of that," Sirius smirked.

"Like cracking it against Ron's head," Remus agreed with a sly smirk that Harry didn't need to question, Remus wasn't picturing Ron.

Ron had a very different tone now as he confirmed she was going to ask him?

Hermione sounded more angry than anything as she said yes, but if he'd rather she take McLaggen, she would.

There was a pause while Harry continued to pound the resilient pod with a trowel.

Ron said in a very quiet voice he wouldn't prefer that.

Harry missed the pod, hit the bowl, and shattered it.

He hastily used the 'Reparo' charm on it, poking the pieces with his wand, and the bowl sprang back together again. The crash, however, appeared to have awoken Ron and Hermione to Harry's presence.

"Darn, and it was just getting good," Lily sighed, actually looking a bit disappointed. It would be nice to finally have some definitive answer so these two would quite jumping around the subject. This had been a very good opportunity for such a thing, and she hoped they picked it up when Harry wasn't around.

Hermione looked flustered and immediately started fussing about for her copy of 'Flesh-Eating Trees of the World' to find out the correct way to juice Snargaluff pods; Ron, on the other hand, looked sheepish but also rather pleased with himself.

Hermione took the pod from him, explaining they were supposed to be using something sharp to pierce the pod.

Harry passed it all to her while he and Ron both snapped their goggles back over their eyes and dived, once more, for the stump.

It was not as though he was really surprised, thought Harry, as he wrestled with a thorny vine intent upon throttling him;

"Can't think of a better description for dealing with this," Remus snorted.

he had had an inkling that this might happen sooner or later.

"I'm glad, otherwise you'd be more daft than Lockhart of all things!" Sirius smirked.

But he was not sure how he felt about it.

"That's a bit fair, awkward transitioning phase and all," James shrugged.

"Don't know what you're talking about, Harry's had time to transition since at least his fourth year," Sirius rolled his eyes.

"It's one thing to be thinking it, it's another to witness, and still yet another to see in action. Have yet to see that last one," Harry sighed.

He and Cho were now too embarrassed to look at each other, let alone talk to each other; what if Ron and Hermione started going out together, then split up? Could their friendship survive it? Harry remembered the few weeks when they had not been talking to each other in the third year; he had not enjoyed trying to bridge the distance between them. And then, what if they didn't split up? What if they became like Bill and Fleur, and it became excruciatingly embarrassing to be in their presence, so that he was shut out for good?

Harry sighed as both options were laid out like that. He wished someone would tell him it would all work out and neither extreme option was going to happen, but he also couldn't help but appreciate no one was giving him another false security. They just had this awkward look on their face, like they knew better than to say anything, so he just ran his hand through his hair to lay it flat and concentrated very hard on that sense of peace he could still cling to when he thought of his friends, confident that would never fade.

Ron suddenly yelled in triumph, pulling a second pod from the stump just as Hermione managed to burst the first one open, so that the bowl was full of tubers wriggling like pale green worms.

The rest of the lesson passed without further mention of Slughorn's party. Although Harry watched his two friends more closely over the next few days, Ron and Hermione did not seem any different except that they were a little politer to each other than usual. Harry supposed he would just have to wait to see what happened under the influence of butterbeer in Slughorn's dimly lit room on the night of the party.

Harry grumbled a bit more and shifted restlessly in his seat. He wasn't truly worried, that wasn't the right feeling, he may even be happy for them. There was just an anxiety over their relationship he couldn't quite place, like it would come back and bite him hard eventually.

In the meantime, however, he had more pressing worries.

Katie Bell was still in St. Mungo's Hospital with no prospect of leaving, which meant that the promising Gryffindor team Harry had been training so carefully since September was one Chaser short. He kept putting off replacing Katie in the hope that she would return, but their opening match against Slytherin was looming, and he finally had to accept that she would not be back in time to play.

"Oh, the poor thing!" James sounded as remorseful as if he were just receiving the news all over again she was in the hospital.

Harry did not think he could stand another full-House tryout. With a sinking feeling that had little to do with Quidditch,

James looked confounded, like it was hard to imagine anything that didn't relate back to Quidditch in some way. His questioning eyes sought out Harry's, who merely shrugged. "If it doesn't explain all the reasons, I will. Mostly though I thought it was obvious, I don't want another full-House tryout spectacle."

"I guess," James muttered, hoping that game hurried up already.

he cornered Dean Thomas after Transfiguration one day. Most of the class had already left, although several twittering yellow birds were still zooming around the room, all of Hermione's creation; nobody else had succeeded in conjuring so much as a feather from thin air.

"That spell always seemed more like a charm to me, conjuring things rather than, well, transforming them," Remus grumbled.

He outright asked him to be on the team, and Dean said of course at once.

Over Dean's shoulder, Harry saw Seamus Finnegan slamming his books into his bag, looking sour. One of the reasons why Harry would have preferred not to have to ask Dean to play was that he knew Seamus would not like it. On the other hand, he had to do what was best for the team, and Dean had outflown Seamus at the tryouts.

"So it's only fair then," James quickly agreed, and Harry gave a lackluster smile back.

Harry said that was settled then, and told him when the next practice was.

Dean cheered, and at once muttered about going to find Ginny to tell her the news.

Harry huffed a bit, and the others thought he was still so put out about his team no one noticed his mutters about him having to tell Ginny this first.

He sprinted out of the room, leaving Harry and Seamus alone together, an uncomfortable moment made no easier when a bird dropping landed on Seamus's head as one of Hermione's canaries whizzed over them.

All five of them got a snort out of that, perhaps they weren't quite over their foul attitude of his last year.

Seamus was not the only person disgruntled by the choice of Katie's substitute. There was much muttering in the common room about the fact that Harry had now chosen two of his class-mates for the team. As Harry had endured much worse mutterings than this in his school career, he was not particularly bothered, but all the same, the pressure was increasing to provide a win in the upcoming match against Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, Harry knew that the whole House would forget that they had criticized him and swear that they had always known it was a great team. If they lost. . . well, Harry thought wryly, he had still endured worse mutterings. . . .

"There's the bright side," Lily half managed a giggle. She'd never really be invested in this sport for all the trouble it caused, but the clear stress it was putting on her son couldn't be played off either, so she was happy to see he was trying to look up all on his own.

Harry had no reason to regret his choice once he saw Dean fly that evening; he worked well with Ginny and Demelza. The Beaters, Peakes and Coote, were getting better all the time. The only problem was Ron.

Harry had known all along that Ron was an inconsistent player who suffered from nerves and a lack of confidence, and unfortunately, the looming prospect of the opening game of the season seemed to have brought out all his old insecurities.

Harry sighed and fidgeted with the pages, it was clear his apprehension was mounting. She almost wished he had picked McLaggen now for the team, even if it would have caused extra strain between him and Ron, surely his best friend would have gotten over it and faced facts there was a better player? She sometimes worried he was too loyal, and look where that had gotten her until the last straw.

After letting in half a dozen goals, most of them scored by Ginny, his technique became wilder and wilder, until he finally punched an oncoming Demelza Robins in the mouth.

"Foul," Sirius said in what he clearly thought was a helpful tone of voice while they all winced.

Ron profusely apologized, while Ginny called him a prat for giving her a split lip.

Harry zipped over and fixed it with the Episkey spell.

"Was that really safe?" Lily couldn't help but scold him. "You'd only had the spell done on you once, you really should have someone explain that to you more before you go using it on others." She only realized after the fact her words weren't helping anything, his mouth seemed permanently set in that uneasy frown, so she soothed her tone and finished with, "but it was very sweet of you, and I'm glad you learned it."

Then he turned on Ginny and told her not to call Ron a prat, she wasn't Captain.

Ginny merely said he'd seemed busy, and someone needed to.

Remus snorted in surprised agreement.

Harry forced himself not to laugh.

"You're a better man than some," James clucked his tongue and was very clearly trying not to do the same, while Sirius and Remus were having no such restraints.

Overall it was one of the worst practices they had had all term, though Harry did not feel that honesty was the best policy when they were this close to the match. He made sure the team heard his thoughts of them flattening Slytherin tomorrow, and the rest left with good spirits.

When he and Ron were alone in the locker room, Ron slumped into his seat and called himself a sack of dung.

Harry insisted he was no such thing, he was the best Keeper. He only had some problems with nerves.

He kept up a relentless flow of encouragement all the way back to the castle, and by the time they reached the second floor, Ron was looking marginally more cheerful. When Harry pushed open the tapestry to take their usual shortcut up to Gryffindor Tower, however, they found themselves looking at Dean and Ginny, who were locked in a close embrace and kissing fiercely as though glued together.

"Urgh, not something you ever want to walk in on," Remus said with a stank eye at the redhead in here, who was blushing faintly while James wasn't bothering with anything except a smirk. Sirius had never been any better, nor subtle, hardly ever waiting until he was alone to parlay in the same practice.

Harry really didn't need to ask, nor was he even paying it much mind.

He felt like screaming, though at no one in here. His fist clenched so tight the ring upon it actually felt strained on his finger. He'd never felt such a powerful feeling in all his time here, not even in his memories, and for once he read on looking for some kind of name to put to this newfound surge.

It was as though something large and scaly erupted into life in Harry's stomach, clawing at his insides: Hot blood seemed to flood his brain, so that all thought was extinguished, replaced by a savage urge to jinx Dean into a jelly.

"I knew it!" Lily smirked.

"Knew what?" Harry demanded, still fighting back that burst of outrage.

"You've been paying more attention to Ginny for ages, and now you're out and jealous," she finished with a giggle.

"Jealous?" Harry tried to snap in protest, but it came out as more of a question.

"I'm not that surprised," Remus shrugged, "at least how he's been acting in here. He's always paid much more mind to her than he ever seemed to in the past, and I always wondered about the change."

"I am," James was still frowning lightly between the book and his kid. "Just hours ago you were still referring to her as Ron's little sister. Where's this coming from?"

Sirius suddenly burst out laughing, but he was watching Harry in a weary kind of way. "Well this could be all kinds of awkward if it keeps going, even if it's just as far as it was with Cho. You were thinking how not fun it would be to have your two best friends dating, try your best friends little sister."

"Sorry Harry, but none of us can really compare, seeing as none of us have sisters." James agreed.

Sirius thoughtfully rubbed his jaw for a moment before offering, "I don't know, if one of you had made a play at my brother, I'd think you were pretty barmy."

"Well darn," Remus sighed, "there goes my love life."

Harry let them make a couple more jokes of it, but then decided to go back to the moment. His ring still felt heavier by the moment, and he was more sure than ever they were down playing this moment. Jealous didn't even feel like a strong enough word, though he was now convinced his mum was right. There was more to it though, so he pressed on eagerly, to explore this new feeling that was very rapidly developing.

Wrestling with this sudden madness, he heard Ron's voice as though from a great distance away shouting to get their attention.

Dean and Ginny broke apart, Ginny looking around without much care to demand what he wanted.

Ron shouted back he didn't want to find his own sister snogging people in public!

Ginny snapped back this was a deserted corridor before he'd come butting in.

"I mean, she's not wrong," Lily snickered, clearly still finding this funnier than anything. She was very pleased to finally have this one out in the open, Ginny had been seeking Harry out for ages and he'd been reciprocating more and more as her youth vanished. Clearly it had just taken the right circumstances to make Harry realize what she'd been seeing.

Dean was looking embarrassed. He gave Harry a shifty grin that Harry did not return, as the newborn monster inside him was roaring for Dean's instant dismissal from the team.

"You've got Hermione as your conscious, now a monster ruling your jealousy, you're just made up of all kinds of things. Wonder what else is going to develop when you ask out Ginny?" Sirius smirked and shook his head as he continued to pick apart jokes for all this. They'd been wanting to know Harry's new fancy, and now they had it, this was going to be hilarious until he moved on.

Dean tried to coax her away, but Ginny told him to go on, she wanted a word with her dear brother.

"Prongs isn't her brother," Sirius said, clearly mystified.

"Shut up Padfoot," James rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

Dean left, looking as though he was not sorry to depart the scene.

Ginny gave her long hair a toss over her shoulder before squaring off, telling Ron it was none of his business who she went out with or what she did with them.

"I'd be paying real close attention to this Harry," Remus mock whispered, "you could be Dean next."

Harry blushed faintly, but the reaction wasn't near as severe as they would have thought. Perhaps this jealousy would come and go even faster than they were thinking then, for him to have so little a reaction.

In all honesty, Harry couldn't get too worked up over this teasing like he had the last time with Cho. He couldn't even put it into words, it just felt natural to him, like watching his parents together. He wasn't even that worried about Ron's response, like the idea occurring to him now said he should be. So he'd take whatever ribbing they or anyone else offered and go with it.

Ron defended yes it was, he didn't want people thinking his sister was a-

Ginny drew her wand threatening, demanding a what exactly?

Harry automatically told Ginny her brother didn't mean anything, though the monster in his chest was roaring approval with Ron.

"Glad someone approves of what's going on, even an inner-" James subtly elbowed Sirius to get him to stop that one before it went too far.

Ginny flared up at him now, shouting Ronald's problem was that the best kiss he'd ever had was from their Auntie Muriel!

"Oooh," James sucked in air backwards through his teeth. "This just went from awkward to flat out bad."

"What does Ginny think she's doing, throwing that around," Remus agreed with an uneasy wince.

"She's proving a point, and standing up for herself," Lily said just a touch defensively. "Her brother's being awful to her, trying to control her like that."

"He's telling her to get a room, Ginny's the one who escalated it, calling him out just because he's never had a girlfriend." Sirius scowled back.

"Both of them are being rotten siblings to each other, they need to take a step back," Lily sighed.

"Without their mum around, I doubt either of them are going to have the good grace to do that," Remus muttered. Harry privately agreed, and it was making him anxious, thinking of having to take sides in that.

It was pathetic, the way he kept hoping Fleur would give him a peck on the cheek every time she passed! If he went out and had a bit of snogging himself, maybe he wouldn't find it so disgusting when others did it!

Ron pulled his wand too, Harry stepped in between them.

All five of them were looking like a bomb was about to go off now, not one of them wanted this to keep escalating, but they were all sure it would.

Ron was now trying to get a clear shot at Ginny around Harry, who was now standing in front of her with his arms outstretched.

"Eesh, I don't even want to know what he's going to throw at her," Sirius winced hard, very aware of the variations he'd set on his brother for multiple lesser things. He wished he could push Harry out of the way of this one.

Ginny cared nothing as she carried on Harry had snogged Cho Chang, and Hermione had Victor Krum! He was the only one acting like a twelve-year-old when it went on! Then she stormed away.

Harry rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. That was most definitely not how he'd wanted his feelings for Ginny to flourish...if he did at all. Now that he'd so vividly seen Ron's vehement reaction to someone being with his sister, it even turning into a brawl, Harry's calm assuredness from moments ago vanished just like Ginny had from that corridor. What had he been thinking, Ron would would be okay with this?! He'd murder him!

"Well, I can find a bright spot in this for Lily," Sirius continued pleasantly like nothing more had happened. "Ron's going to hook up with Hermione just to prove a point."

"Was that supposed to make me feel better?" Lily scowled at him. "I'd want them to get together because they want to be, not for Ron to show off to his sister. If Hermione finds out this is the reason Ron finally made a move, I'll very much doubt she'll be happy."

"Can't win anything with you woman," Sirius rolled his eyes.

James noticed Harry was still looking rather queasy, and had a wash of sympathy for him. Sirius and Lily had been nonstop having a go at each other since he'd started dating her. It had gradually turned into the friendship they'd developed, but James didn't envy Harry's position of having to pick a side in that argument, something that never had, and fingers crossed never would happen in his life. He was still half convinced Harry's sudden spurt of feelings for Ginny would fade though, so he pushed that away and was more than happy when Harry forced himself to keep going.

Harry quickly let go of Ron; the look on his face was murderous. They both stood there, breathing heavily, until Mrs. Norris, appeared around the corner, which broke the tension.

Harry quickly led them both away before Filch himself could catch up.

A small girl was standing in the middle of the seventh-floor corridor, and jumped in fright and dropped a bottle of toadspawn as Ron snapped at her to move.

Harry hardly noticed the sound of shattering glass; he felt disoriented, dizzy; being struck by a lightning bolt must be something like this.

Harry still felt that way, as if his mind were being split in two. One part kept replaying that scene, like he should have been paying much more attention to it, instead of letting the rest flit off to corridors, to imaginations he'd never share with Ron...or memories?

It's just because she's Ron's sister, he told himself. You just didn't like seeing her kissing Dean because she's Ron's sister. . . .

But unbidden into his mind came an image of that same deserted corridor with himself kissing Ginny instead. . . .

James whistled in surprise his sons mind was already going that rout then, he'd never even escalated that far with Cho, especially not right off the bat.

"Ginny slip something in your evening dinner?" Sirius burst out laughing at Harry's now scarlet face, that was not something he'd ever wanted to share with them. "Where's all this coming from?"

"I really think it's just been building for ages," Lily said clinically as she kept eyeing him as well. Harry kept his eyes trained on the pages instead, well aware how much every one of them were still looking at him.

"Let's hope it doesn't take him another two years to get his act together and do something about it then," Sirius chuckled.

The monster in his chest purred . . .

James snorted slightly that kept being brought up, but really he was still assessing all this, while Harry fidgeted more than ever with that ring on his finger. Was it like before, with Cho? Whoever his wife was should be on his mind now, with some new love interest present, or was it him trying to recall Ginny as that wife? He wasn't sure, and he still felt more sorry for Harry than anything, especially if it wasn't Ginny. This just got more awkward the more he thought about it.

but then he saw Ron ripping open the tapestry curtain and drawing his wand on Harry, shouting things like, 'betrayal of trust'. . . 'supposed to be my friend' . . .

"No second guessing at all what Ginny might say eh?" Sirius chuckled.

"Apparently he's still hoping that celebrity crush is alive and well," Remus agreed.

Ron abruptly intruded to demand of him if Hermione had snogged Krum?

Harry didn't really answer, as his mind supplied the idea that yes he did think so,

"Do you really think they got to know each other that well?" James more than happily jumped topics, though was sad Hermione wasn't actually here so he could asses a real answer out of her.

"I was under the impression they didn't have too much to do with each other after the second task at least, but at the same time, they've been writing since, so," Lily trailed off with a shrug. She could see how it would anyways.

however, Ron seemed to gather the worst from the look on Harry's face. They climbed through the portrait hole into the common room.

Neither of them mentioned Ginny or Hermione again; indeed, they barely spoke to each other that evening and got into bed in silence, each absorbed in his own thoughts.

Harry lay awake for a long time, looking up at the canopy of his four-poster and trying to convince himself that his feelings for Ginny were entirely elder-brotherly.

"What you were imagining just now had nothing to do with siblings," Remus told him like he'd gone daft.

"At least I'm relieved he is trying to talk himself out of it," James gave an uneasy chuckle. "I really can't see how this one's going to go."

Harry scowled at the two, looking twice as offended as anything they'd said about Cho, but still no one could tell on what level. Paternal like, or more?

They had lived, had they not, like brother and sister all summer, playing Quidditch, teasing Ron, and having a laugh about Bill and Phlegm? He had known Ginny for years now. ... It was natural that he should feel protective . . . natural that he should want to look out for her . . . want to rip Dean limb from limb for kissing her... No ... he would have to control that particular brotherly feeling. . . .

Ron gave a great grunting snore.

She's Ron's sister, Harry told himself firmly. Ron's sister. She's out-of-bounds. He would not risk his friendship with Ron for anything. He punched his pillow into a more comfortable shape and waited for sleep to come, trying his utmost not to allow his thoughts to stray anywhere near Ginny.

"I'm already convinced his dreams didn't follow the same pattern," James said, but with an affectionate look at Lily who blushed faintly but refused to acknowledge that one.

Harry awoke next morning feeling slightly dazed and confused by a series of dreams in which Ron had chased him with a Beater's bat,

"Ron doesn't even play that position," Sirius chuckled.

"We don't need Trelawney to pick that one apart," Remus rolled his eyes.

but by midday he would have happily exchanged the dream Ron for the real one, who was not only cold-shouldering Ginny and Dean, but also treating a hurt and bewildered Hermione with an icy, sneering indifference. What was more, Ron seemed to have become, overnight, as touchy and ready to lash out as the average Blast-Ended Skrewt. Harry spent the day attempting to keep the peace between Ron and Hermione with no success; finally, Hermione departed for bed in high dudgeon, and Ron stalked off to the boys' dormitory after swearing angrily at several frightened first years for looking at him.

"Merlin, one little spat with his sister and Ron thinks his life is ending," James said with more sympathy than anything. At this point in his life he'd been pretty frustrated the girl of his dreams still had no interest in him, even when she wasn't hanging around Snape anymore. He hadn't always been at his most pleasant either, though he liked to think he'd never gotten this bad.

"He's being a ponce," Lily scowled for this attitude no one deserved. "If he has a problem, even one he doesn't want to talk about, taking it out on everyone else is inexcusable."

To Harry's dismay, Ron's new aggression did not wear off over the next few days. Worse still, it coincided with an even deeper dip in his Keeping skills, which made him still more aggressive, so that during the final Quidditch practice before Saturdays match, he failed to save every single goal the Chasers aimed at him, but bellowed at everybody so much that he reduced Demelza Robins to tears.

"Bloody hell, just go snog a girl already and be done with it," Sirius said in exasperation as this pent up feeling only grew worse.

"Sirius, that really should not be your answer to everything," Remus rolled his eyes in exasperation, before grudgingly saying, "but in this particular case I can't help agreeing with him. Ron needs to work this out, and if that's what does it I'm all for it."

Peakes flew into his face and shouted to leave her alone! He was two-thirds Ron's size, but was carrying a heavy bat.

"Yeah, that would be a sight," James muttered, hoping Harry stepped in soon to calm his team before it went that far.

Harry bellowed at them that was enough, especially at Ginny, who he had seen glowering in Ron's direction and, remembering her reputation as an accomplished caster of the Bat-Bogey Hex, soared over to intervene before things got out of hand.

He told the rest of the team to go and pack up for the night, and waited until they were out of earshot before confronting Ron. Telling him that best mates they were, if he didn't stop this he'd be kicked off the team!

He really thought for a moment that Ron might hit him, but then something much worse happened: Ron seemed to sag on his broom.

"Maybe this'll finally help," Lily honestly tried to put some hope into her voice. "He needed someone to give him a swift kick in his arse."

"I can't see how Harry attacking him now will really help," Sirius disagreed, thinking what Ron really needed and wishing he could help just like he'd tried for Moony all those years ago, still occasionally tried to do no matter how much Remus protested and refused to participate in whatever blind-dates he'd set up.

All the fight went out of him and he simply resigned on the spot.

Harry fiercely said he didn't accept! He could save anything when he was on form, he just had a mental problem!

Ron demanded he was being called mental?

"He's sure acting like it lately," Remus agreed.

Harry agreed he was right now.

They glared at each other for a moment, then Ron shook his head wearily. He conceded Harry couldn't find a new Keeper so soon, but when they lost the game tomorrow, he was resigning.

Nothing Harry said made any difference. He tried boosting Ron's confidence all through dinner, but Ron was too busy being grumpy and surly with Hermione to notice.

"I'm sure she loved that," Lily grumbled, wishing to swat him upside the head for still taking this out on the wrong person.

Harry persisted in the common room that evening, but his assertion that the whole team would be devastated if Ron left was somewhat undermined by the fact that the rest of the team was sitting in a huddle in a distant corner, clearly muttering about Ron and casting him nasty looks.

"Ouch, yeah, probably not helping," James winced, but he was at a loss of anything to help Ron as well. If winning the Championship last year didn't do it, he didn't know anything that would encourage Ron now. Maybe quitting really was best for the poor guy, even if they had to endure McLaggen because of it.

Finally Harry tried getting angry again in the hope of provoking Ron into a defiant, and hopefully goal-saving, attitude, but this strategy did not appear to work any better than encouragement; Ron went to bed as dejected and hopeless as ever.

"Credit for determination," Sirius offered, which did about as much good in distracting Harry as he'd been trying to do to Ron.

Harry lay awake for a very long time in the darkness. He did not want to lose the upcoming match; not only was it his first as Captain, but he was determined to beat Draco Malfoy at Quidditch even if he could not yet prove his suspicions about him. Yet if Ron played as he had done in the last few practices, their chances of winning were very slim. . . .

If only there was something he could do to make Ron pull him-self together . . . make him play at the top of his form . . . something that would ensure that Ron had a really good day.

...

And the answer came to Harry in one, sudden, glorious stroke of inspiration.

"Oh Harry, you don't!" James groaned at once.

Harry went wide-eyed and innocent, fighting to keep his expression under control and not give himself away.

"That's cheating that is, getting him onto the team is bad enough. What's the point of playing Quidditch if you won't rough it," Sirius scowled, trying hard not to say the words too venomously to Harry, but he really didn't appreciate what he was hearing.

"I've never cheated," Harry said, his defensive voice pure and helping well to smother the light in the back of his eyes. "I never will."

The two exchanged a calculating look, but really weren't sure what Harry was on about then. They kept themselves quiet and just let it play out then.

Breakfast was the usual excitable affair next morning; the Slytherins hissed and booed loudly as every member of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall. Harry glanced at the ceiling and saw a clear, pale blue sky: a good omen.

The Gryffindor table, a solid mass of red and gold, cheered as Harry and Ron approached. Harry grinned and waved; Ron grimaced weakly and shook his head.

Lavender gave him a cheerful greeting, saying she knew he'd be brilliant!

Ron ignored her.

"Irony in its purest," Remus muttered. "Ron's finally getting all the attention he ever wanted, and he hates every minute of it."

"I really thought he'd be loving it, especially the way he gloried in it last year. He really can't decide what he wants about anything this year," Harry agreed with a sigh, his mind not really on Quidditch now.

Harry offered him a variety of drinks, but Ron just said anything without a care as he started moodily on a piece of toast.

A few minutes later Hermione, who had become so tired of Ron's recent unpleasant behavior that she had not come down to breakfast with them, paused on her way up the table.

She asked how they were feeling, her eyes on Ron.

Harry said they'd be great once they got some breakfast, and handed Ron a glass of pumpkin juice.

Ron had just raised the glass to his lips when Hermione spoke sharply at him not to drink that!

Harry was fighting back more every moment the smile trying to tug across his face. It wasn't helping the others jumped in surprise and looked on in concern now for what was happening.

Both Harry and Ron looked up at her.

Ron asked why not, but Hermione was now staring at Harry as though she could not believe her eyes as she accused Harry he'd just put something in Ron's drink!

His fathers and Godfathers scandalized expressions grew, but his previous assurance held their tongue. It was clearly maddening to them they were missing something, but why would Hermione say something otherwise?! Harry was biting the inside of his cheek as he tried to continue without picturing the looks he knew would come when they figured it out.

Harry defended he'd done no such thing, but Hermione insisted otherwise.

Hermione turned sharply to Ron and pleaded with him not to drink that, but he took it all in one large gulp after telling her to stop bossing him around.

"Is playing them against each other really helping anything?" Lily sighed. She wasn't nearly as invested in Quidditch as the others, nor did she find it too hard to believe her rotten boy would pull such a thing for a game he clearly loved. If he'd get into such a big fight with Hermione over a broom, she really wouldn't put this past him no matter how much she still loved that determination to do anything.

Harry just batted his eyes innocently, but it was even harder to fake on his mum with that calculating look, so he quickly kept going.

She looked scandalized. Bending low so that only Harry could hear her, she hissed he could be expelled for that!

Harry politely returned back if she'd Confunded anyone lately?

"Heh, got her there," Remus snickered, he was enjoying this immensely. The one thing he could guarantee would rile his friends up was something Harry was now toeing the line with, and he couldn't get enough of the show, considering he might well have done the same for one of his friends if they'd needed the boost that day like Ron clearly had.

She stormed up the table away from them. Harry watched her go without regret. Hermione had never really understood what a serious business Quidditch was.

"Invoking my name right now won't help you Harry," Sirius said with a stiff lip, but his expression was softening now as he tried to dig up some explanation for this. Harry insisted he never had, nor ever would cheat, but that's exactly what he'd just been caught doing. What was he missing? The puzzle at least stopped him constantly glaring at his godson for an explanation.

He then looked around at Ron, who was smacking his lips.

The frosty grass crunched underfoot as they strode down to the stadium.

Harry casually asked him it was pretty lucky the weather was this good.

Ron agreed while looking paler than ever.

Ginny and Demelza were already wearing their Quidditch robes and waiting in the changing room.

Ginny completely ignored Ron's presence as she told Harry the Slytherin line-up wouldn't be the usual. Vaisey took a Bludger to the head during their last practice and was in the Hospital Wing, and Malfoy was out sick.

"What's this now?" Lily asked with interest, agreeing with the suddenly intense look of concentration on Harry's face for this development.

Harry turned on the spot in surprise, asking what was wrong with him?

Ginny didn't know, but the team was playing Harper instead. He was in her year, and an idiot.

"So's Malfoy, but he's actually decent on a broom," James gave a casual enough roll of his eyes, even as he kept shifting his weight for the game to begin. He'd had enough people dangling answers over his head already this year, but found he was actually enjoying Harry doing it to him. Something about his sons expression promised a payoff he'd appreciate at least, even if he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Harry smiled back vaguely, but as he pulled on his scarlet robes his mind was far from Quidditch. Malfoy had once before claimed he could not play due to injury, but on that occasion he had made sure the whole match was rescheduled for a time that suited the Slytherins better. Why was he now happy to let a substitute go on? Was he really ill, or was he faking?

"Who cares?" the three Marauders said, just wanting to get to the game already and figure out what Harry was up to. They'd already spent far too much time caring about Malfoy this year, and they wanted this one thing to enjoy.

Harry tried to get Ron to see how fishy this was, but Ron called it lucky again, then his eyes bulged wide as he turned to Harry and began babbling about his drink this morning.

Harry raised his eyebrows, but said nothing except they'd be starting in five minutes and he wanted everyone dressed.

'All of this would have happened the other day though, the Luck potion wouldn't have caused this to happen in the last hour,' James thought to himself, before his eyes widened in understanding and he quickly stopped an 'oh' of surprise escaping. He wasn't sure he was right, but suddenly he wondered why Harry showed no shame of his actions. He had more faith in the Captain of this team not pulling such a stunt, but if it really was a literal stunt...

They walked out onto the pitch to tumultuous roars and boos. One end of the stadium was solid red and gold; the other, a sea of green and silver. Many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had taken sides too: Amidst all the yelling and clapping Harry could distinctly hear the roar of Luna Lovegood's famous lion-topped hat.

Sirius did get a laugh out of that. "I've missed hearing about her, wish we could see if she'd added anything to the hat."

"Sorry, I'll let you know later if I notice," Harry said with all the cheer in the world. Sirius was still shifting restlessly for the game, not even sure what he wanted to hear now. If Ron started miraculously catching all the goals, he couldn't even be thrilled at it, but he still had faith Harry hadn't lied to him, so what was the other option?

Harry stepped up to Madam Hooch, the referee, who was standing ready to release the balls from the crate. She told the Captain's to shake hands. Harry and Urquhart tried to crush each others instead.

"I actually wouldn't be surprised if Malfoy quit the team that morning in protest of not being made Captain." Remus said with a huff of disgust. "Been mock practicing with them in training, and then did this to spite them at the last second. Seems the kind of thing he'd do."

The whistle sounded, Harry and the others kicked off hard from the frozen ground, and they were away.

Harry soared around the perimeter of the grounds, looking around for the Snitch and keeping one eye on Harper, who was zigzagging far below him. Then a voice that was jarringly different to the usual commentator's started up.

"Oh yeah, Lee Jordan graduated," Lily puckered her lips in disappointment, she'd always enjoyed his commentary.

"Hopefully the next person is just as entertaining," Remus said with a bright smile.

It didn't start well, pointing out Ronald Weasley was a patch performer in his Keeper position last year, so many were surprised to see his reappearance on the tea. Of course it helped to be friends with the Captain.

Sirius grumbled in disgust, he'd heard that insult a lot in his last year of school, right around the time he'd been trying to restrain himself from cursing the lot. It had been a long year.

These words were greeted with jeers and applause from the Slytherin end of the pitch. Harry craned around on his broom to look toward the commentator's podium. A tall, skinny blond buy with an upturned nose was standing there, talking into the magical megaphone that had once been Lee Jordan's; Harry recognized Zacharias Smith, a Hufflepuff player whom he heartily disliked.

"I'll pay McGonagall extra to kick him from the stands," James muttered.

His words were not met with anything though, as Urquhart sent the first ball of the game, and Weasley saved it. Smith wasn't impressed, saying everyone had to get lucky.

Harry grinned to himself,

James was eyeing Harry shrewdly still to get a nail on an answer and Sirius was muttering to himself about his godson doing this to him at a time like this. Why couldn't they ever just enjoy one match without it being something?

as he dived amongst the Chasers with his eyes searching all around for some hint of the elusive Snitch.

With half an hour of the game gone, Gryffindor were leading sixty points to zero, Ron having made some truly spectacular saves, some by the very tips of his gloves,

All four of them narrowed their eyes at Harry, but it was maddening this didn't really mean an answer because Ron had done this before as well. He really was good at the game, the boost it was implied he was given really wouldn't make a real difference if Harry had gotten Ron's head on straight before this.

and Ginny having scored four of Gryffindor's six goals. This effectively stopped Zacharias wondering loudly whether the two Weasleys were only there because Harry liked them, and he started on Peakes and Coote instead.

Describing Coote as not the usual build for a Beater, they generally had more muscle-

Harry bellowed at Coote as he passed to hit a Bludger to Smith, but Coote only grinned and sent the next one to oncoming Harper.

"Well I'm certainly liking him more and more," Sirius did get a grin out of that, though certainly wouldn't mind if the next one went a bit wild.

Harry was pleased to hear the dull thunk that meant the Bludger had found its mark.

It seemed as though Gryffindor could do no wrong. Again and again they scored, and again and again, at the other end of the pitch, Ron saved goals with apparent ease. He was actually smiling now, and when the crowd greeted a particularly good save with a rousing chorus of the old favorite "Weasley Is Our King,"

Lily sniffed a bit, couldn't they add in something for Ginny's sake? She was doing as much as Ron. She'd start having her own problems of inferiority soon.

he pretended to conduct them from on high.

"Ron's really been compared to Malfoy a lot lately," James said a bit tartly, knowing he would have found that funnier under other circumstances.

Harper collided himself into Harry for the purpose of mocking Ron, calling him a blood- traitor pal.

Hooch had her back turned at the time, so by the time the Gryffindor shrieks of a foul reached her ears and she turned, Harper was shooting away.

Harry's shoulder was aching as he raced after him, determined to ram him back

"You can afford the foul," Sirius agreed in clipped tones, but he really couldn't help it, he put his feeling about Harry aside and started to lean forward with an eager smile, at least trying to enjoy the good of the game before whatever happened for it later came up.

Smith airily said Harper had seen something Potter hadn't, and Harry thought him a right idiot. Hadn't Smith seen them just collide moments before? Next moment, his stomach seemed to drop out of the , sky â€" Smith was right and Harry was wrong: Harper had not sped upward at random; he had spotted what Harry had not: The Snitch was speeding along high above them, glinting brightly against the clear blue sky.

Sirius growled in his seat, shifting his hands desperately to throw a Bludger, or anything, to help get a win out of this! He was certain no matter what Harry had done the team still deserved this!

Harry accelerated; the wind was whistling in his ears so that it drowned all sound of Smith's commentary or the crowd,

"That Firebolt really coming in handy right now," James breathed, then caught his breath and held it, fists clenched with hope his boy would pull off another win, at least he'd never done anything to himself to deserve that. Had that been what he'd meant earlier, he was only promising he'd never helped himself win? He forced his mind to snap back to this and worry about everything else in a moment.

but Harper was still ahead of him, and Gryffindor was only a hundred points up; if Harper got there first Gryffindor had lost. . . and now Harper was feet from it, his hand outstretched.

Harry desperately shouted after him how much Malfoy had paid him to come on instead?

"Razzing him at a time like this could work," James stressed the word as much as his body was tensed, regretting the hiss of words that escaped him as it only delayed a few moments longer the answer!

He did not know what made him say it, but Harper did a double-take; he fumbled the Snitch, let it slip through his fingers, and shot right past it. Harry made a great swipe for the tiny, fluttering ball and caught it.

All four of them cheered with excitement, Harry beamed with pride as his fist still tried to clench over his prize. He couldn't help it, even despite their weariness of what he was pulling on them, that was genuine praise for something he'd done! Something he never in his life expected to feel from his parents!

Harry whooped as he circled back. Wheeling around, he hurtled back toward the ground, the Snitch held high in his hand. As the crowd realized what had happened, a great shout went up that almost drowned the sound of the whistle that signaled the end of the game.

Harry found himself trapped in the midst of a mass midair hug with the rest of the team, but Ginny sped right on past them,

"Disappointed not to be getting a particular hug eh?" Sirius asked with a cheerful enough wink, but his mood was still soured more than Harry was used to for a win. He considered telling them already, but he was still sure he'd have to explain himself to Hermione as well, so waited just a few moments more.

until, with an almighty crash, she collided with the commentators podium. As the crowd shrieked and laughed, the Gryffindor team landed beside the wreckage of wood under which Zacharias was feebly stirring,: Harry heard Ginny saying blithely to an irate Professor McGonagall, she'd forgot to put on the brakes.

All five of them lost it, laughing in nothing but a carefree way for Ginny lighting all of them. Harry found himself with a growing ache, one he'd held since he first remembered Ron and Hermione. He wanted Ginny here now too. To meet his parents, to see where he'd come from! He looked wistfully to the kitchen once more, and then just as quickly looked away, scolding himself for such a thing. He was going to enjoy the time he had with his parents, and he'd find a way to make all the lives he wanted come together in the end.

Laughing, Harry broke free of the rest of the team and hugged Ginny, but let go very quickly. Avoiding her gaze, he clapped a cheering Ron on the back instead as, all enmity forgotten, the Gryffindor team left the pitch arm in arm, punching the air, waving to their supporters.

The atmosphere in the changing room was jubilant. Dean was already yelling about a party up in the common room!

"Always is," James agreed with nostalgia. He still missed those times, especially the ones in his last year, with his Lily Flower on his arm.

Ron and Harry were the last two in the changing room. They were just about to leave when Hermione entered. She was twisting her Gryffindor scarf in her hands and looked upset but determined. She told him what he'd done was illegal, Slughorn had said so.

Ron asked if she was going to turn them in?

"Why's he still being so defensive, she's trying to be on his side," Lily grumbled.

"Well it's not like Hermione hasn't done that before," Sirius snipped.

"And Ron's ego just got a bit of a boost, potion or not," Remus agreed with a sigh, he wouldn't expect anything to bring him down right now, instead it was likely to just keep climbing.

Harry asked what they were even talking about, turning away from both of them so they wouldn't see him smiling.

James clucked his tongue and Sirius shifted a bit, both determined to hear an explanation before they really got to scolding as well. Harry would admit to it, if nothing else, when he was confronted. He'd always been honest with them, and his friends.

Hermione shrilly shouted he'd used Felix Felicis to spike Ron's drink this morning!

Harry said he hadn't, turning back to face them.

James's face squished up, his mind scrambling to catch up with his sons. He suddenly sympathized in a whole new way how Harry must always feel to constantly be missing something, he was certainly getting that feeling a lot lately.

He promised he hadn't slipped anyone anything, as pulled from inside his jacket pocket the tiny bottle that Hermione had seen in his hand that morning. It was full of golden potion and the cork was still tightly sealed with wax.

"You-" Remus began in disbelief, but he could hardly get past the first word as Sirius and James burst out laughing.

"You rotten little curd," James wagged his finger even as he was grinning ear to ear. "Pulling such a stunt, I couldn't be prouder!"

"You couldn't have just said that!" Sirius agreed even as his breath came out in stops and starts from laughing.

"Where would be the fun in that?" Harry asked, more pleased than words could say he'd guessed right, they'd taken it all in stride for the joke. It was a warmth he never expected to get, knowing how his family would react to something he'd done.

"That's so sneaky," Lily tried to scold even as she was fighting back twitching lips. "Was winning the game that important to you? Would you have really done it?"

"Didn't need to," Harry gleefully pointed out, wishing Ron and Hermione were here now more than ever so he could relive seeing them go through this with him. "But no, if the idea hadn't worked, I'd have just put up with the aftermath, just like always," he finished, his smile starting to dim as he wondered why that left such a sinking feeling, why he was immediately regretting his thoughts and quite happy his friends weren't here. That was ridiculous, he'd just won a match, surely Ron would apologize and everything would go back to normal now. Suddenly anxious, he stopped Remus adding in and cut off James and Sirius still chortling to get back to his aching mind, fingers crossed he was misunderstanding something to bring the mood back down already.

Harry explained he'd only wanted Ron to think he had, but he'd really done all that himself.

Ron was astounded with himself, but then he rounded on Hermione, thrusting in her face he hadn't needed any help, he could do that without a potion!

"It's not like she knew that anymore than him," Lily huffed, still wanting to give him a good whack. He really needed to stop taking everything out on her, she'd done nothing to deserve it.

Hermione protested she hadn't said otherwise-

but Ron was completely ignoring her now and walked right out.

Harry stood there awkwardly, he hadn't expected this part of his plan to backfire. He offered to walk up to the party with her, but she told him to go on without her. She didn't know what she'd done to Ron, but she was sick of it! She stamped away, tears in her eyes.

"Would you have told her, if she'd stayed?" Remus asked in concern. This wasn't nearly as bad as some of their previous fights, but this certainly needed to be resolved, perhaps by Harry stepping in no matter how awkward.

"I don't know, probably, even though that would have made her more mad, then they'd both be mad at me," Harry sighed as he explained why he'd yet to do it. He wasn't happy at all his forewarned thoughts had been right, surely this was the unpleasant feeling, his friends still fighting.

Harry walked slowly back up the grounds toward the castle through the crowd, many of whom shouted congratulations at him, but he felt a great sense of letdown; he had been sure that if Ron won the match, he and Hermione would be friends again immediately. He did not see how he could possibly explain to Hermione that what she had done to offend Ron was kiss Viktor Krum, not when the offense had occurred so long ago.

Harry could not see Hermione at the Gryffindor celebration party, which was in full swing when he arrived. Renewed cheers and clapping greeted his appearance, and he was soon surrounded by a mob of people congratulating him. What with trying to shake off the Creevey brothers, who wanted a blow-by-blow match analysis,

"And you didn't give them one?" Sirius demanded. "You've given us plenty."

"Those two reminded me of puppies even more than you, and I didn't need the extra attention right then," Harry huffed, but at least Sirius smirked for the joke.

and the large group of girls that encircled him, laughing at his least amusing comments and batting their eyelids, it was some time before he could try and find Ron. At last, he extricated himself from Romilda Vane, who was hinting heavily that she would like to go to Slughorn's Christmas party with him. As he was ducking toward the drinks table, he walked straight into Ginny, Arnold the Pygmy Puff riding on her shoulder and Crookshanks mewing hopefully at her heels.

"Oh boy, let's hope another Weasley Hermione row doesn't sprout from Crookshanks eating him," James muttered. Hermione really did need a break, hopefully Crookshanks wouldn't start anything.

She smirked as she passed Harry, asking if he was looking for Ron? He was over there being a hypocrite.

"Excuse em wa'?" Remus put on a terrible french accent to mock what his mind was suddenly offering him in explanation. Either he'd made up with Hermione extraordinarily fast, or something far worse was about to happen. He really couldn't decide which he wanted to hear at this point, either was going to be awkward for Harry to live through.

Harry looked into the corner she was indicating. There, in full view of the whole room, stood Ron wrapped so closely around Lavender Brown it was hard to tell whose hands were whose.

"Well then," Sirius chuckled, clearly all at ease with this display. "Glad someone's untying his knickers."

"Thank you Sirius," Lily huffed.

"This won't go well," James muttered, seeing everyone else's expression but his best mates was thinking the same. Where was Hermione?

Ginny dispassionately said it looked like he was trying to eat her face.

Sirius still got a cheerful laugh out of that, now eyeing Harry and expecting his mind to trail off, to wonder what Ginny would say when Harry tried kissing her. He expected that to come up sooner rather than later.

She supposed he'd have to refine his technique somehow though. Then she told Harry good game, and patted him on the arm as she left. Harry felt a swooping sensation in his stomach, but then she walked off to help herself to more butterbeer. Crookshanks trotted after her, his yellow eyes fixed upon Arnold.

Harry turned away from Ron, who did not look like he would be surfacing soon, just as the portrait hole was closing. With a sinking feeling, he thought he saw a mane of bushy brown hair whipping out of sight.

He sighed though when he realized instead where Harry was going. He hoped Hermione wouldn't be too difficult about this, Ron was just letting off some steam. Surely Hermione would understand that.

He darted forward, sidestepped Romilda Vane again, and pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady. The corridor outside, seemed to be deserted.

He found her in the first unlocked classroom he tried. She was sitting on the teacher's desk, alone except for a small ring of twittering yellow birds circling her head, which she had clearly just conjured out of midair.

"Why?" Remus drew the word out in concern.

"Try to keep her mind on other things," Lily shrugged, running her hand through her hair uneasily. She at least hoped Hermione wouldn't take this out on Harry, but would save it for the friend who deserved it. Ron was being foul treating her this way. Whether he was avoiding the problem or he really didn't return her feelings in that way, which she doubted, this was just a terrible time to be doing anything of the sort like he was, especially as Ginny had just called out, in such a hypocritical way. They'd never even gotten an answer on what he'd said about the Slughorn party, but this wouldn't have helped anything.

She greeted him in a brittle voice, telling him she was just looking for somewhere to practice.

"She clearly doesn't need it," James said carefully, like he had an angry witches wand trained on him now. This was not a good place to start, and he had no faith his son would make it better, he'd never been very good at doing that for Hermione in the past.

He had no idea what to say to her. He was just wondering whether there was any chance that she had not noticed Ron, that she had merely left the room because the party was a little too rowdy, when she said, in an unnaturally high-pitched voice, Ron seemed to be enjoying himself.

Harry awkwardly said he wasn't sure what she meant, and she snapped at him Ronald hadn't been hiding it!

The door behind them burst open. To Harry's horror, Ron came in, laughing, pulling Lavender by the hand.

"Timing!" Sirius cried to try and break the growing tension. He was ignored.

He drew up short at the sight of Harry and Hermione.

Lavender quickly backed out of the room giggling.

"I'm sure she won't be when she gets up to her common room and remembers how close Hermione's bed is to hers," Remus muttered.

The door swung shut behind her.

There was a horrible, swelling, billowing silence. Hermione was staring at Ron, who refused to look at her, but said with an odd mixture of bravado and awkwardness, to Harry he'd wondered he'd gotten to.

"Yeah, that's why he was going into that room with Lavender," James muttered, his face pulled tight for he didn't even know what. Were Ron and Hermione going to blow this off, or start another row? He really didn't want the latter, but the first would be painfully awkward because it would then take them even longer just to talk again as if they were having a fight.

Hermione slid off the desk. The little flock of golden birds continued to twitter in circles around her head so that she looked like a strange, feathery model of the solar system.

Sirius snorted for the comparison, then pouted when he was the only one who bothered to crack again. Honestly, everyone got so cut up over romance.

She quietly said he shouldn't leave Lavender to herself. She walked very slowly and erectly toward the door. Harry glanced at Ron, who was looking relieved that nothing worse had happened.

Remus had just opened his mouth to agree to the same, when Harry had gone on in the same breath.

The spell 'Oppugno!' came as a shriek from the doorway.

Harry spun around to see Hermione pointing her wand at Ron, her expression wild: The little flock of birds was speeding like a hail of fat golden bullets toward Ron, who yelped and covered his face with his hands, but the birds attacked, pecking and clawing at every bit of flesh they could reach.

All five of them felt their mouths flop open in shock for such a display. Then Sirius started laughing harder than ever. "Well, I may not have seen this coming, but in hindsight it makes sense. She's got a bit of a violent streak, she did punch Malfoy in the face when he finally pushed her too far."

"Sirius Black, this is not funny!" Lily snapped at him.

"Why not?" He returned casually. "Ron's being an arse, either trying to make Hermione jealous or playing around with some options to see how his feelings for Hermione stack up. Honestly, he could even be just messing around for some fun."

Lily had looked surprised, even impressed he really had grasped some emotional level of what was going on, until he'd finished with another attempt to blow all this off.

She'd just opened her mouth to retort when Harry desperately tried to finish the last line,

Ron yelled to get them off of him, but with one last look of vindictive fury, Hermione wrenched open the door and disappeared through it. Harry thought he heard a sob before it slammed.

Harry groaned and let the book fall to the floor with a thud as he grabbed his head in misery. He could already feel this was going to get worse before it got better.

HPHPHPHP

Lots of romancing going on in this chapter, but the big controversial you've all been waiting for, Harry/Ginny, has finally arrived!...It's not bad.

Honestly, I don't dislike the pairing, there's certainly worse out there, but I'll never get over how little it was set up. Of all the plot threads JK did in advance, this has to be the least developed of all. Now yes I've seen a ton of posts claiming otherwise, but even rereading these recently with a critical eye, I've done more to have Harry notice her than JK ever bothered. Even in this book, there's been what, three instances of Harry noticing her? She was set up for a romance no better than if he'd suddenly fallen in love with Dean. So yeah, proceeding will as follow, this is cannon and Harry is purely smitten with her, but I just don't much care for the two together either way. I'll still do my best to have the characters invest in it like normal of course.

As for Ron and Hermione, I genuinely do like them. They're idiotic teenagers figuring out love for the first time, it's been clear it's going to be getting to this point for ages, and they're going about it in the worst way possible to each other. I personally think that makes them a stronger couple in the end, I don't believe there's such a thing as the perfect romance and some problems at the start are probably healthier than finding them later in life. I've heard JK's commentary that they'd probably have to have a counselor at some point in their marriage, but I don't get why people say that means she didn't want them to end up together. There's nothing wrong with needing a mediator to find a way to talk to each other, hell, I'm pretty sure Harry's the counselor she meant. He's already had years of practice at it already.

This has been my thoughts none of you asked for on the two current pairings in the series. I think I made myself pretty clear on Harry/ Cho, Harry/ Luna will come up in a later chapter, you already know my stance on Jilly and Wolfstar, I'll address Dramione near the end of seven if any of you really care, and Remadora will come up in a later chapter which I'm sure you can guess at.

*A mouth guard, to those who didn't recognize the word like I didn't and googled it upon my first read. I don't know why I pictured a wand creating a wad of gum to surround them first, my mind feels idiotic now for not putting it together, but that's what happens when I spend too much time in a place like Hogwarts. Things like that seem more real than common safety practice.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #The Life That Never Lived #HP #HBP #Marauders #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

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secret-engima · 4 years

Note

Okay but how does Regis' dinner with his Demon King not-so go???? U can't just LEAVE that there, do Chocobros 1.0 get an explanation? Does tiny!Cor attack Noct and get gently put down by the the Dark Retinue and just, instantly idolize these SERIOUSLY OP but also v tired warriors?

XDD Well technically I COULD but I won’t. FICLET TIME.

The Chocobros 1.0 do NOT get an explanation (not a full one anyway) because nobody is up to explain the whole “your kids from another dimension that died and woke up here and accidentally usurped a kingdom with the crash landing”.

Instead, after the Night King blandly warns that any attacks on his person will end badly, so please don’t, and please don’t attack the servants either they’re just doing their jobs, he waves a hand and the daemons release Regis and Co. Very slowly, warily, they stand up and rub feeling back into their limbs. Their weapons were taken away, and in this AU while Regis and co have Elemancy and other fancy magic, they DON’T have Armiger (it’s a lost art in this world, so Regis would have to be taught how to access it) so they can’t just yank more out of thin air as they assess their situation (heart of enemy territory, at the feet of the Immortal Accursed who is acting surprisingly nice but has been terrorizing their kingdom off and on for literal centuries). Regis opens his mouth to maybe cautiously ask a question when Cor shakes out the last kinks in his back-.

Then dives for the Night King with bare hands sparking with lightning.

Regis doesn’t get time to tell Cor to stop and the Accursed doesn’t even blink or startle. He doesn’t even move because he doesn’t have to.

The board-shouldered man with Amicitia gold eyes and two scars on his face stops Cor in his tracks. Regis isn’t even sure where the man came from, he moved so fast. He was just there, casually deflecting Cor’s attack without flinching from the lightning, then catching Cor’s follow-up attack with an almost lazy gesture.

Cor winds up winded on the floor at the man’s feet. The man in question rumbles a laugh while letting a frantic Weskham and cursing Cid drag Cor back into their group by his ankles, “Nice try kid, but you’re about three decades too early to pull that off.”

“I’m sorry for him,” Regis manages past the vice in his throat, because Regis can see the Night King watching Cor with a contemplative expression he can’t understand (why is the Accursed looking at Cor like that, with an expression that could ALMOST be called fond-), “He’s young.”

“I remember,” the Accursed says, but does not elaborate on what he remembers (being that young? Others who were like Cor? Information his spies brought him on Cor?) The king shakes his head and looks over at the shadows, “Prompto.”

Yet another human slides out of the shadows, this one as clearly of Niflheim descent as the grinning bear of a man is of Amicitia blood (and Regis can feel Clarus trembling at that, is trying not to think of it himself, because that paired with the Night King’s black hair and blue-blue eyes....). The newcomer smiles like the sun, a shockingly genuine expression in a place like this, “Lemme guess, guest duty?”

The Night King’s expression shifts from mild and unreadable for the first time, a delicate half-smile sliding onto his face that makes him seem unnervingly ... human, “Iggy should be finished soon, just ... escort them to the dining room. Maybe a tour.”

The blond man (Prompto? Is that his name?) laughs, calm and easy, and gestures for Regis and his Retinue to follow him, “Sure thing, Your Majesty. Come on intruder-guests, His Royal Highness needs to finish business in here without gawkers.”

Numb and confused, even Cor meekly follows the man out past the daemons and into the strange, endlessly tall building that served as the Night King’s home (hard to call it a castle with no ramparts or walls, just a tower as large as a small village that reached-reached-reached for the sky, the methods to build it lost centuries ago). The man (Prompto, he introduces himself as) leads them down halls lit by ghostly blue lights where torches should be, past daemons dressed like servants, who bow deeply to their guide as they pass and make no move to attack. Along the way, the man chatters amiably, pointing out meaningless trivia that would do nothing to help should they try to escape but was almost amusing were it not for the circumstances.

At one point, Cor lunges for Prompto’s back before Regis can stop him (Cid curses as the boy worms out of Cid’s grip unexpectedly, he’s getting better at escaping each time they try to stop him from getting into trouble). Cor snatches a decorative but razor sharp knife from a display rack as he goes, diving for Prompto’s back.

The man sidesteps without even looking, easily swipes Cor’s feet out from under him, then sidesteps again when Cor rolls with the fall and comes up swinging. Regis is tempted to try joining in, to try to get AWAY but by the time he’s thought it, the fight is already over and Cor is dazedly staring at Regis from where he’s been pinned against the wall by Prompto, “Dude,” says the member of the Dark King’s court, “rude. Wait until after dinner or something yeah? Pretty sure His Majesty will let you borrow a training room if you want to go a few rounds with me or Gladio.”

Cor twitches against the hold, but doesn’t really dare move because Prompto is holding the knife now and it is dangerously (lazily) close to Cor’s neck, “You’re faster than Gilgamesh,” Cor wheezes angrily, “How are you faster than Gilgamesh?”

Prompto doesn’t even blink at the mention of the ancient Swordmaster’s name, just lets Cor go with a shove that propels him into Clarus’s arms, “Please. Gilga-brat,” Clarus choked on his spit at the nickname, “has got nothing on Iggy when it comes to speed. Not even close. Assuming you stay for a day or two, ask your king if you can spar with Gladio a few rounds or something”

“Assuming we survive the night?” Weskham asks dryly.

Prompto blinks at him as if surprised, then grins, the expression sharp with something Regis can’t place (it almost seems like grief, but that can’t be).

They arrive in the dining room to find another human, a man with horrible scars mostly hidden beneath strange glasses that have to be too dark to see through and oddly stretched to wrap around the front of his face rather than being small, round little lenses like Regis is used to. The man is expertly directing a positive mob of Tonberry and Arachne, pointing out where to put the plates and where to adjust something all without so much as turning his head in the direction of the people he’s instructing. Regis wonders with a prickling chill if he has some kind of power given to him by the Night King. Surely all of the human inhabitants have SOME reason for staying in this place, either curses, thrall marks, or the promise of unnatural magic. Regis glimpses the woman from before, but she disappears through a different door before he can really look at her.

The blind man tips his head in their direction, “Ah, our guests. Your Highness, you sit in that chair if you will,” he gestures to the plush seat opposite the one clearly meant for the Night King and Regis falters at the implied equality between him and the Accursed, but the man is already directing the others to their seats and all they can do is tentatively creep past the bustling Tonberry and sit as food more fitting for an Altissian Royal Banquet than a castle of evil is laid out before them. He knows he should be wary, but after weeks of travel on only rations and campfire cooking, the sight and smell makes his mouth water.

Moments after they are seated, the Night King sweeps in, his Amicitia on his heels. The woman reappears alongside a boy who must be Cor’s age (physically anyway) and they seat themselves. Regis notices that the arrangement is a mirror of his own Retinue.

The prickling feeling increases.

They eat only because Regis is terrified of pushing the Accursed into acting like- well- the Accursed, even though he’s half afraid he’s eating people or something with every bite (it tastes amazing though, like fine dishes and rare spices, not like daemon food at all so maybe he’s okay?). Over dinner, the Accursed makes very light, easy conversation, never asking why they tried to break into his kingdom or mentioning the fact that they were- you know- mortal enemies. Regis doesn’t understand what the trick is and that scares him.

Finally Clarus breaks. He does not slam the table, he is more controlled than that, but he puts his utensils down and clears his throat, “May I be permitted to ask a question, Your Majesty?”

The Night King looks up and there is surprise in his eyes for just a moment, “Speak freely,” he answers dryly after a moment, “you’re hardly going to say anything I have not heard before.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Weskham shoots Clarus a sharp look and Regis pinches the bridge of his nose. The Night King tilts his head like he doesn’t understand, “Clarify.”

“Why are you entertaining us as honored guests? We are all members of your sworn enemies, of Lucis that you have spent centuries trying to destroy. Why show us courtesy? Why have the attacks on Lucis stopped to begin with?”

The Night King sits back and looks ... so genuinely flummoxed Regis almost finds himself believing it. The Accursed looks at his Dark Retinue, who all openly shrug save Ignis, who adjusts his strange glasses without comment. The Accursed frowns, then calls to the rafters, “Sheria?”

An Arachne, so old she’s massive, easily descends from the rafters (Cor’s breathing goes pointedly measured, he never could stand arachnids of any kind). The Arachne leans down and murmurs something into the Night King’s ear that the Dark Retinue can apparently hear because now all of them are blinking. The Accursed nods slowly and dismisses the giant daemon, then rubs his forehead, “Lovely. Just great. Why did no one tell me this when I took the Astral-cursed job-.”

The blind man’s lips twitch, “Noct,” he murmurs softly and there is an entire conversation in that one word. The Night King throws his head back and groans like a teenager, sits up straight and shatters Regis’s world with a casual, “Yea I didn’t do any of that stuff. I’ve only been King for ... I think a year now? About a year. Still catching up on all the paperwork and stuff.” He pauses, “The raids on your kingdom DID stop right? I ordered all raids be put on hold indefinitely on my first day.”

Regis is pretty sure he’s not breathing anymore, “You ... have only been ... for a year?” He manages a strangled gasp, squeaks out, “Then you aren’t the Accursed?”

The man waves a hand impatiently, as if the title was an annoying fly, “Formal title. Blame my uncle, he was always a drama queen.”

“...Uncle?”

The Dark Retinue is definitely snickering now as the Night King (?) props his chin on a hand and says, “Yeah, my Uncle. The original Accursed. I finally killed him a year ago, which makes me the new Night King.”

Cid runs a hand through his hair, “Ah thought the Accursed was immortal.”

“Yes, he was. Only one of his blood could kill him, everything else just bounced off. We fought, I won, so he died. That’s ... how it works. Next question.”

Cor speaks up next, because Regis is still trying to get his world to stop shattering, “So you ... aren’t going to kill us?”

A fractured expression and the deceptively human, amiable mien cracks to show ancient, terrible, grieving anger. In that moment the man before him seems centuries old, not somewhere in his late twenties or early thirties and Regis can BELIEVE that the man (men, and woman, because the others have similar expressions if not so deep and ancient) is an Immortal. Has seen things too old for Regis to comprehend.

“No,” the man answers and his voice cracks with emotion as he looks away, “No, I’m not going to kill you. I don’t want to kill anyone. I did my killing. I don’t want to do anymore.” And there is ... something so very fragile in those words, so very broken and tired and Regis suddenly realizes that ... this was the first Accursed’s nephew, family, he had assumed this man killed the other out of desire for the throne but what if...

What if it have been a desperate desire to make the death and madness stop?

“Is there something we can call you,” Regis hears himself saying, his heart going out against his will to this dangerous, strange immortal, “other than your titles? Is there a name you prefer?”

The looks the Dark Retinue send him are approving and surprised, and the tight line in the Night King’s shoulders unwind, “...Noctis. Please, call me Noctis.”

#SE asks #alyss-spazz-penedo asks #Demon in the Dark verse #Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #poor noctis #telling the truth #while everyone immediately comes to the wrong conclusion #*cackles*

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golchaworld · 4 years

Text

Panacea | L.BG (Part II)

➳ pairing: lee byounggon x fem!reader, ft. cix ensemble

➳ genre: organized crime!au, action, occasional fluff

➳ word count: ~2.9k

➳ warnings: cursing, mild violence, mentions of non-descriptive gore, mentions of death/killing, glorification of crime

➳ summary: The plan is always the hardest part.

A/N: This took me forever and a half to write! And the funny thing is this is mostly just filler!! It’s a lot of insight into the members’ and reader’s relationships and tendencies. Either way, I hope you enjoy!

Part One

panacea (noun): a solution or remedy for all difficulties

All of Jinyoung’s plans start out with observations. He becomes hellbent on knowing every single detail, every mechanism and inner working, before making his next move. Jinyoung always likes to hit where it hurts, and he finds observation a crucial factor in that.

It starts with him dropping sticky notes on your desk. Most of them are mundane observations, like the fact that Kim Jaeyong eats lunch at 12:43pm every single day, or the fact that he keeps the temperature warmer in his personal office than the rest of the office.

But eventually, they become more detailed, useful. Jinyoung notes that Kim Jaeyong walks with a slight hitch in his step, leaning over to his right side, likely the result of a hip injury when he was a teenager. Jinyoung also informs you that Kim Jaeyong only keeps one weapon in his office, a Beretta M9, with plenty of ammo in the bottom drawer of his file cabinets.

As the notes pile up day by day, your shredder becomes fuller and fuller. It’s better for all of you to keep them as mental notes anyways.

The six of you don’t get a chance to discuss the notes until the following Friday, piling into Seunghun and Byounggon’s shared apartment as usual. This time, instead of hard liquor and the ever present taste of murder in your mouths, there’s only the bitter taste of determination.

“I don’t know why I needed to know the exact minute that the boss eats lunch, Jinyoung. Why did you even send that to us?” Hyunsuk’s voice is whiny, worn out from using his customer service voice for the entire week.

Jinyoung rolls his eyes, throwing a chicken bone that just barely misses Hyunsuk’s cheek. “It’s so we know when he’s not busy. People are almost always relaxed over a meal. I think that’s our best time to strike.”

Byounggon snorts, chest rumbling under your head. How the two of you ended up cuddled up on the couch while everyone else is sprawled across the floor is beyond you. You imagine it was under the pretense of you being “tired.” All you know is that you definitely don’t mind it.

“What do you mean ‘strike?’”

“Well I mean, we have to kill him. I think that’s pretty obvious.”

Even with the steady tone of Jinyoung’s voice, you know he’s still being cautious. Although Yonghee just looks over at him with big, inquisitive eyes, you imagine it must hurt. It would always hurt to see your best friends plotting to kill your father. It must hurt even more when you’re taking part in such plotting.

“There isn’t another way?” Seunghun’s voice is calm and even, standing strong in the silence of the apartment. “Like can’t we just force him to leave and never come back or something?”

“It’s us or him.”

Yonghee’s voice causes a knot to wrangle its way into your stomach. His words are clear, even though they waver with a hint of fear. There’s something else there, maybe sadness, grief. It mixes in smoothly with the deep tone of Yonghee’s voice.

“If we don’t kill him,” Yonghee explains further. “He will kill us. No hesitation. Killing him is really our only option.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Byounggon asks softly, as if not to frighten a cornered animal.

Emotion swims in the dark irises of Yonghee’s eyes. Having been the “quiet nerdy kid” growing up, Yonghee has never been one to wear his heart on his sleeve. His father had taught him that emotion was weakness, and would always be used against him. It was only around his five best friends did he ever let his walls down.

Yonghee sighs, running a hand through his already messy hair. Somehow, it falls flawlessly back into place. It’s amazing how even under the stress of plotting to kill his father, Yonghee manages to look like a supermodel.

“Even if I’m not okay with it, it’s what we have to do. So let’s stop mulling it over and just do something about it.”

The corner of Jinyoung’s mouth twitches up in a smirk, accompanying the sadism flaring in his eyes. “Then let’s get started.”

. . .

The first thing you notice the next morning is that you’re not in your own bed.

You sit up, quickly take account of your surroundings and rush through the possible places where you could have ended up. All of your clothes are on and intact, which is a good sign. You search the room, panicked, until your eyes land on a familiar picture in a navy blue frame. You sigh in relief; it’s only Byounggon’s room.

The framed picture on the nightstand is quite cute, and you find yourself smiling at the six faces that stare back at you. It was taken at the boardwalk the summer before your senior year of high school. You’re all grinning from ear to ear, each holding various cliche items from cotton candy to plushies won at game stands. Byounggon’s arm is slung around your waist.

You remember that you even loved him then.

The picture has you continuing to smile, even as the room owner enters. Byounggon lacks a shirt, only clad in sweatpants slung low on his hips. Even though it’s his typical Saturday outfit, you find your mouth watering nonetheless.

“Sleep well?” He asks, voice gruff from sleep.

You nod slowly. “Yeah, but when did I fall asleep? Like I remember Jinyoung outlining the plan and then next thing I know, I’m waking up here. I wasn’t even drinking!”

You punctuate your statement with a frown, which causes Byounggon to smile, dimples indenting his rounded cheeks.

“You fell asleep while Jinyoung was talking, genius.” Byounggon takes a seat at the foot of the bed. “Seunghun and I just brought you back here so you could get proper sleep.”

A yawn takes over your features, prompting you to stretch your arms above your head. Byounggon giggles.

“Did you guys finish coming up with a plan?”

Byounggon’s expression sours at the question. He looks down to the sheets of the bed before meeting your eyes. His eyes are hard set, determined, but are also laced with a lingering air of sadness.

“We’re still mulling over some details, but um, Y/N?” He places a hand on top of yours on the cover, curling his fingers around yours. “We’re going to have to kill a lot of people. It’s like we’re going to war. A war against our own.”

You turn your hand over so that you’re palm to palm with Byounggon. In his eyes, there’s still the brooding boy that refused to talk to you when you were introduced at age seven. There’s still the boy who was scared of the monkey bars until he was twelve. But there’s also the man who has killed. A man who has sinned.

You squeeze his hand in comfort. “I know. But you have to remember that as long as the six of us are together, we’ll be alright. We’ll always have each others’ backs.”

Byounggon nods, squeezing your hand back just as tight.

. . .

Jinyoung is the one who warns the group against diving into a plan head first. Ever the planner, he works to create small increments in which the six of you can work to take down Kim Jaeyong. The only downside to his planning is that he feels the need to remind you all of it every waking moment.

The sticky notes don’t stop landing on your desk, this time sporting small messages like ‘we have to make nice with the informants so they trust us,’ and ‘Seunghun agreed to spend more time with the boss to get closer to him.’ It all seems a tad bit extraneous, but nothing is too extra for Jinyoung.

He even goes as far as to call small meetings for the six of you in the middle of the day. All too often you find yourself smushed into a cubicle, speaking in hushed whispers disguised as small talk. The worst is when you all have to pile into the single stall restroom at the end of the main hallway, conspiring and dreaming up a hierarchy of people to take down.

It’s on a random afternoon, however, that your cover is almost blown.

Five of you stand around Hyunsuk at the front desk, casually sipping coffee while you dream up the most discreet ways to dispose of bodies. You’re so caught up in the conversation that you all miss the chime of the elevator, completely ignoring the figures that step out of it until a booming voice rings out around the lobby.

“Who knew that kids these days talk about burning bodies during their coffee break?”

The six of you instantly straighten up your posture, greeting Kim Jaeyong with slight bows. The man sports a greasy smirk at the obvious fear written all over your faces. He has always been giddy at the thought of people respecting him, of people fearing him.

“Yeah, well you know burning bodies is all the rage these days,” Hyunsuk responds with a smile, forever the charmer.

Seunghun nods. “You know Gen Z, all about social media and burning bodies.”

Kim Jaeyong laughs loudly, once again commanding all the attention in the room. “You kids are too funny.” His face suddenly loses all hints of humor, putting up a serious, stoic front. “But we don’t have time to take coffee breaks, whether you’re talking about burning bodies or anything else.”

The six of you nod, practically in unison, making small noises of agreement. Kim Jaeyong seems pretty satisfied at the response, and you think he’s going to leave it at that, especially as he moves towards the office door. However, as soon as he shifts his weight to open the door, he freezes, regarding the group with scrutiny.

“As a matter of fact, the six of you have been congregating a lot lately. Is there something I should know about?”

All of the blood in your body freezes over. You would think you died on the spot if not for the styrofoam cup warming the skin of your hand. For a moment, there’s silence, until a confident voice speaks up.

“It’s the consequence of recruiting six best friends when they were fresh out of college. All we want to do is see each other.” Yonghee smiles as he speaks, proud at the implied dig at his father. “Surely you can understand that right?”

Kim Jaeyong regards his son with a sneer. “I don’t care what you all ‘want’ to do. You’re congregating on my time. Get back to work, now.”

Five of you scramble back to your desks, passing by the father-son duo that seem to be communicating with their eyes. Their gazes are ammo, and none of you want to be caught in the crossfire.

By the time you’re settling back into your cubicle, Yonghee re-enters the office, a triumphant smirk on his face.

. . .

The plan is officially set in motion the following week. It begins from the bottom with its goal being for the six of you to work your way up. It seems easy at first, to take out the small scale informants and then move on to their bosses, and their bosses’ bosses. But the task becomes harder and harder to manage.

You come across your first round of problems as you’re sawing an informant’s body into small pieces, making them easier to be burned when it’s all said and done. You have just separated the man’s lower leg from his thigh when a crackle of static fills the small room you have converted into a morgue of sorts.

“Junhyuk? Are you there?” A staticky voice calls, making you instantly drop your bone saw to the floor.

It falls with a loud clatter, one that’s loud enough to gain the attention of Seunghun, who had been posted outside of the room. He instantly bursts into the morgue, hand on the small pistol in the holster on his waist.

“What happened?” The boy questions, looking around the room for signs of danger.

“You guys didn’t take his walkie?!” You yell, startling Seunghun.

The static crackles again. “Junhyuk? Come in.”

Seunghun just rolls his eyes, finally taking his hand off of his gun. In two short strides, he stands over the collection of body parts, not even flinching when the static fills the room once again. He doesn’t hesitate to reach a hand into the corpse’s bloody back pocket, pulling out an equally bloody walkie talkie.

Seunghun throws the small appliance onto the ground, watching as small pieces splinter off. To seal the deal, he stomps on it a few times, until it no longer spouts staticky commands. You roll your eyes at the show of strength.

“Better? Gosh, I didn’t expect something so miniscule to scare you.” Seunghun jokes, nudging your shoulder with his.

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “When you’re alone in a room with bodies that are supposed to be dead, you don’t exactly expect shit to start talking.”

The smile Seunghun gives you in response is bright and sweet, the kind that’s not marred by any malintent. You wonder if this is how he lures his prey in. With just a flash of his smile, you can imagine that anyone would be putty in his hands. But when you see his smile, however, it just reminds you of the chubby little boy who greeted you and your mother when you moved in across the street.

To this day, he always greets your mother like she’s his own, molding a space into your family. And after years of friendship, he practically is a brother to you. From playing on the swingsets when you were in third grade to studying for college entrance exams when you were in eleventh, Seunghun has always been a part of your life.

The last thing you expected, however, was for him to ever be flashing you his smile in front of a half dismembered body. But you guess things change.

“Well before you lost it over a walkie talkie,” Seunghun chuckles. “Jinyoung said he and Byounggon were going to take down another informant. Somebody who does outreach to the suppliers? I don’t know.”

“Clearly, I need some time before then.” You motion to the body behind you. “You guys can’t just be piling up bodies in my morgue.”

The tall boy shrugs before making a move towards the door. “Bring it up with Jinyoung...or better yet, bring it up with Byounggon.”

Seunghun shoots you an obnoxious wink over his shoulder. You can only manage a few curses at his retreating form before he exits the room, taking his post at the door once again. When you turn back to the body on the table, you meet its cold, dead eyes.

You scoff. “Don’t look at me like that.”

. . .

It’s a little after noon on a Wednesday when Byounggon meets you inside of the morgue. Your breath catches in your throat once you catch sight of him. His blazer hugs his shoulders perfectly, cinching in just the right amount at the waist. Byounggon in a suit should be illegal.

“Why is it always so cold in here?” The man whines, crossing his arms over his chest to preserve warmth.

“You know why it’s cold in here,” you roll your eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

Byounggon’s eyebrows raise before he chuckles. “What’s got you so upset?”

You sigh, finally putting down the pliers you had been using to remove fingers from a dead hand. The urge to run your hands through your hair overtakes you, but you fight to suppress it, hands smelling like formaldehyde and drained blood.

Byounggon’s still looking at you expectantly as a moment of silence passes. He knows not to push, content with waiting for you to open up on your own. It’s something he learned the hard way. Pushing you too hard once in the 9th grade led to such a nasty black eye that he had to wear sunglasses for two weeks.

“This is just a lot,” you finally murmur. “How are we going to take everyone out without Kim Jaeyong noticing? He already noticed we’ve been congregating a lot.”

A smile graces Byounggon’s face, deep dimples indenting his cheeks. He crosses the small room quickly, pulling you into a tight hug. You can’t help but sigh, feeling all of the tension leave your body at the feeling of your best friend’s arms wrapped around you. You sigh again once Byounggon begins to rock you both back and forth.

“Worrying doesn’t look good on you, you know.”

The comment makes you chuckle, the sound nothing more than vibrations in your chest.

“Leave the worrying to Jinyoung,” Byounggon continues. “His stupidly pretty face can handle it.”

Once again, you laugh, emitting a short huff that gets trapped in the space between your face and Byounggon’s chest. He’s warm, a sharp contrast from the chill of the room.

“Yonghee’s got the system hacked so that it looks like the informants are still up and running. He’ll do the same as people go higher and higher up. He’s cancelled all large body meetings for the next month.”

“Oh shit.”

Now it’s Byounggon’s turn to chuckle. “Yeah, oh shit is right. We have this on lock, Y/N. There’s nothing you need to worry about.”

You nod in response, taking the opportunity to muzzle further into your friend’s hold. His heartbeat is strong and steady under your ear, felt through the quality fabric of his crisp white dress shirt. His hands trace circles into your back, slightly displacing the cloth of your white lab coat.

The two of you continue to rock back and forth, paying the smell of formaldehyde no mind as you get lost in the warmth of each other.

#lee byounggon imagines #bx imagines #cix imagines #cix #lee byounggon #bx #panacea #escritos

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halequeenjas · 4 years

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Property Soul’d || Jasmine & Skylar

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @theskyeandsea & @halequeenjas SUMMARY: Skylar acts as an interpreter during one of her student’s parents real estate showings with Jasmine. The pair shows up before Jasmine can throw up wards, so Larry Bob makes a pesky appearance. CONTENT: Medical Blood Mentions

Any time Jasmine had a showing, she had to make it a habit to arrive earlier and throw up wards. Larry Bob was persistent as ever and simply wouldn’t leave her alone. Like it was her fault he died. Ghosty boy needed to get a grip and let that shit go, but he refused, even after her banishment attempts. Did she love carrying salt and iron with her everywhere? Not particularly, but she didn’t have much choice at this point. This property was a beautiful waterfront home that was staged to perfection. She was just about to put the wards up when she heard the doorbell chime. Fuck. This meant she’d have to be very careful. “Larry, if you’re here, I swear I’ll salt the hell out of you if you ruin this listing for me,” she chided quietly before making her way to welcome her clients in. She plastered on her million dollar smile and opened the door for Mr. Bell and a younger woman. She assumed this was the interpreter he spoke of. “Hello,” she greeted eagerly, “Come on in, I think you’re going to love this place.” She absentmindedly ran a hand over her pocket to confirm her small pouch of salt was there. “So this one has everything you’re looking for-- waterfront, pool for the kids, big tub in the master bath, a kitchen island, and it’s $10,000 under budget!”

Thank you again, Ms. McKay, really, Mr. Bell signed as they made their way up the front walk of the house. Skylar shook her head, waving her hands emphatically. No, no, please. I’m happy to help, She signed in response before ringing the doorbell. It was a beautiful home, hopefully she’d be able to help him close on the house. She’d never really done something like this before, but… she was trying to be better, trying to be more helpful. So, here she was! When the woman opened the door, Skylar followed after her, interpreting the realtor’s words. Mr. Bell’s eyes widened with interest as he took in the information, though he seemed skeptical. “Has the kitchen been renovated? My wife’s really looking for a place with stone countertops.” She said, speaking for the man as he signed before looking at the woman expectantly.

Ever the best tour guide in town, Jasmine led them over to the kitchen as they asked about renovations and answered, “It was renovated last year and the countertops are all marble. Appliances are all new, too, and there’s even a range stove.” She gestured toward it as they walked in the kitchen which really was a dream. Maybe not particularly for her since she didn’t cook, but aesthetically speaking, she enjoyed it and knew how to sell it. She’d been about to dive into the other features when she heard a loud crash from one of the bedrooms. Of course, the one time her client was too early for her to get the wards up, something like this had to happen. She kept her composure and quickly rattled off, “Oh, I think I left my bag at the edge of the dresser, I’ll just go clean that up really quick. Feel free to poke around the kitchen!” She quickly rushed up the stairs and grabbed the salt and iron rod from her bag. As she saw his form in the bedroom next to a broken vase she let out a sign and chided, “Really, Larry? That’s a $2,000 vase.” Out of spite, before she could throw a dash of salt at him, he knocked down a sculpture. “Ugh,” she grumbled as she dashed salt at him and held her iron rod out to keep him away. She couldn’t very well start a banishment with people in the house. So she kept swatting at him with the iron rod hoping he’d just… leave.

Raising her eyebrows as they stepped into the kitchen, Skylar relayed the woman’s words to Mr. Bell. The kitchen was… amazing. It honestly rivalled the one in Nic’s home-- her home-- with the wonderful cabinets and beautiful stove top. Mr. Bell nodded in agreement, examining the various fixtures as Skylar followed the other two adults around the home. Just as Mr. Bell was about to ask a question, she flinched as a loud shattering sound rang in her ears. A slight ring of feedback sounded in her ears and she grimaced as the realtor hurried out of the room. With a bemused expression, Mr. Bell signed, What did she say? Skylar pointed to her hearing aids with an apologetic wince, I couldn’t hear, but I can double check with her. What did you want me to ask her? I can double check. Mr. Bell signed his request to her and she hurried through the hallways to where she thought she’d heard the realtor wander off to. “Um, excuse me? Mr. Bell wanted to know if--” As Skylar entered the room, she blinked in confusion as she stared, not fully understanding what she was looking at. There were glass shards all around the room, bits of a broken sculpture mixed in as well, but what startled her more was the realtor, who was wildly swinging a thick metal rod around the room, saying something about… Larry? Mr. Bell’s first name was Martin-- who was she talking about? “Ah… Is everything okay?” Skylar asked.

“Damn it, Larry,” Jasmine grumbled as Larry Bob kept dodging her blows with the iron rod. He knew damn well she wouldn’t risk anymore property damage and he was using it to his advantage. Stupid poltergeist. In this moment, she was very grateful that Mr. Bell couldn’t hear them though she tried to keep the ruckus down so that the interpreter didn’t. She’d been trying to get a good whack in when she heard another voice. Her head whipped around and lips formed a small “o” as she realized the interpreter had in fact heard her. She casually hid the rod behind her back and lied, “Oh, everything’s peachy! I’m just a little clumsy somet-” Her grin faltered as the poltergeist began slamming the windows opened and closed. A long, exasperated sigh escaped her lips as she turned back to the window. She whispered angrily, “Can you not?” This was bad. By every indication to any sane person, it’d look like the house had some defects or was haunted depending just how familiar one was with White Crest’s particular brand of weird. She could see Larry’s ghostly form moving toward Skylar. “Watch out,” she yelped as she saw the door about to swing into her.

Startled by the sight of the woman whipping around, the metal rod hidden behind her back, Skylar tilted her head, trying to see around her. What was she holding? Some kind of weapon? Or was it just a rod? And why? That didn’t seem like a standard realtor thing. Before Skylar could question more, she was startled to see the windows open and close wildly, the curtains blowing from the draft. “I-- what’s going on?” She asked, but before she could react, the door slammed in her face, smacking her hard in the face. The solid wood smacked into her nose and she felt a sudden trickle of warmth slide down her face. “Ow!” She yelped, clutching her bloody nose. “What just-- I… What happened?” She blinked as she fumbled. Was that magic? It almost reminded her of when she’d been helping Morgan with her jars of candles, how the magic had backfired on her. But, she hadn’t seen any wards or incantations or anything like that. The door had just kind of opened? Fumbling with the door handle, Skylar pinched her nose. “What was that?” She asked, her voice thick through the blood that was dripping down her face.

As the door slammed into Skylar’s face, Jasmine grimaced and swore under her breath. Taunting her endlessly was one thing, but hurting an innocent interpreter just trying to do her job was another. She threw a handful of salt at his form before turning back to Ms. McKay. She pulled some tissues out of her purse and quickly handed them over. “I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed and added, “I swear what’s going on has nothing to do with the house.” It seemed the younger woman wanted answers and there were very few that didn’t make her sound like an absolute lunatic. She let out a sign and asked, “Do you believe in ghosts?” Realizing ghosts made the house sound bad, she quickly added, “Again, nothing to do with the house.”

Accepting the tissues with a grateful nod, Skylar tilted her head up as she attempted to staunch the bleeding. Just another fun side effect of being a selkie, too much blood. She could feel the warm blood flowing down her face, dripping onto the ground, on the freshly cleaned floors. Oh no… That wasn’t good-- at least it wasn’t carpet, but still. Mmm. As the woman simultaneously hurled salt into the air and apologized, Skylar blinked in confusion. One, why was she throwing salt around, but also, why was she apologizing? The door had magicked itself open, it wasn’t as though she’d done anything. But, at the mention of ghosts, her eyes widened. Ghosts? Was there a ghost here? Looking around nervously, she nodded. “Mmm. I’ve heard of them before. Are you sure the house is safe? Mr. Bell, I wouldn’t want him moving in here if he’s going to be haunted or something.”

It took some concentrated effort, but Jasmine refrained from making a snide remark that everyone had heard of ghosts. Most just didn’t believe. Her lips curved down into a frown when she saw how much the girl was bleeding. Damn it, Larry. “Right,” she started before she explained, “Well, I’m an exorcist and I can assure this ghost has nothing to do with the house. He’s more of a personal haunt. Really persistent, too. Pissed I tried to exorcize him in the past. Turns out, he’s got a lot of rage so I need another exorcist to help.” The door slammed again and she grumbled, “Fuck off, Larry!” She shook her head and looked back to Skylar. “Usually I put wards up before a showing. You guys were a little early so I didn’t quite get to that step. I can assure he’ll follow me out of here, though, and I’d still put up wards anyway. I always do.”

“An exorcist? Mmm, like going all John Constantine on someone?” Skylar asked, thinking back to the comic book character. She’d known that mediums were a thing-- Blanche had told her that she was one, afterall. So, it only made sense that there would be people who would get rid of ghosts too. Nadia had talked about having been through an exorcism years ago, how she’d been possessed. Was Jasmine possessed..? Skylar flinched when the door shut on its own again. The knowledge that it was an angry ghost doing this didn’t make her feel much better. “Um, okay. That’s good at least. Do you-- is there anything I can do to help? Besides,” She gestured downstairs to where Mr. Bell was still idling. Hopefully he hadn’t felt the floors shaking above him from the doors being slammed around. “You know, my job.”

“Uh, I don’t know who that is, but like, I get rid of ghosts and poltergeists when needed,” Jasmine threw a final dash of salt as she saw Larry approaching a painting and that seemed to get him to disappear for the time being. She let out a sigh and turned back to the younger woman. “I’m sorry, are you okay? He’s gone now.” This definitely wasn’t going to look good to Mr. Bell. She kicked some of the broken clay pieces under the dresser, but knew she’d need a broom to fully get the glass. “Not really, unless you know another exorcist, but I appreciate the offer. Larry Bob is a stubborn poltergeist. Think he’s a two woman job, but I don’t actually know any other living exorcists.” If she did, Larry Bob would have been thrown off this plane a long time ago. “Can I get you anything else? I’m so sorry he did that to you.

“Mmmmm.” Skylar hummed in understanding, because it was easier than trying to talk. The blood was still dripping down her face and she was grateful for the excuse to not have to say anything in response. As the woman began to try and sweep bits of broken glass under the dresser, she glanced around. A dustpan would be best, but Skylar didn’t know where she’d be able to find one. “I, actually,” She said thickly through the tissues pressed against her face, “I do? I don’t really know if he’s legitimate, but he’s got a YouTube channel? Connor Piers?” She said. “I mean, I don’t know him, but he told me he does exorcisms and things. But, um, I don’t know if he’s really doing it or if it’s just a stunt.” She said. As the woman offered to help her, Skylar shook her head, though the motion sent more blood soaking through the tissues. “Ah-- um, maybe more tissues? Sorry. I, ah, I have a weird blood condition.” She said, trying to remember some of the excuses Ricky had told her all those months ago. Anemia? No, that wouldn’t make sense.

The mention of another exorcist made Jasmine perk up. The bond between her and Larry Bob was far too personal. It only fueled his anger and stubborn streak which made it near impossible for her to banish him like she wished to. “You do,” she questioned with her eyes widening and brows arching upward. “Wait, he’s got a YouTube channel,” she squeaked, “Actually, I think he’s popped up in my recommended videos on YouTube before. I’ll have to actually watch and see if he’s legit. I’d really love to not have to ward off and bring salt and iron everywhere I go. Have you actually met this guy?” She still hated that he had a YouTube channel. Being seen with him would make her a freak by association and she had been careful with who she told about being an exorcist. If word got too widespread, her real estate business would tank. “Right, right-- more tissues,” she mumbled as she grabbed a hoard from the bathroom. She really was bleeding a lot which was quickly explained by the weird blood condition. “Condition… do you like need a doctor or something? Are you going to be okay?”

“He does. I watched one of his videos, but it was a little too creepy for me.” Skylar admitted as she tipped her head back, hoping it would help stop the blood from pouring down her face. She’d managed to catch it before it had stained her clothes, but if it kept up, there wouldn’t be saving her shirt. Pinching her nose tightly, Skylar took some of the tissues from the realtor-turned-Ghost-Buster and did her best to stop the continuous dripping. Soon, the tissues were soaked through, but at least her nose had stopped. Blinking, she bit the inside of her cheek. “Sorry. I haven’t actually met him, but he seems like the type who’d be happy to talk to people about ghosts and things?” She said, reflecting on how… cavalier he’d been with their conversation. She couldn’t imagine being like that. “Oh, no, no. I’m okay now, honest. I just, it’s a clotting issue.”

If one of his videos was creepy, it was probably a safe bet that this Connor guy was worth his salt. Jasmine would still watch one of his videos to find out properly for herself. “Noted, I’ll have to check out his videos and see if he’s at all legit. If so, I’ll have to hit him up even if broadcasting this stuff on YouTube is ridiculous,” she said with a bit of a grumble in her voice at the last part. Calling attention to ghosts and themselves like that was wild. Hell, she charged for exorcisms and she wouldn’t even dream of posting about it online. “Hm, I can still check him out. Thanks for the tip.” It seemed like she finally stopped bleeding though the tissues were all soaked through in the process. Gross. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. If you don’t mind, I’d still like to send a little care package your way when this is all done.” She grabbed a broom and dustpan she had stowed away in the closet for the cleaning lady she hired and reluctantly started cleaning up the glass. “If you’d like to tell Mr. Bell I’ll be down again in a minute, I’ll meet you down there. Would prefer to clean up this room before showing it to him.”

“Mhm, that makes sense. Maybe he’ll be able to help you get rid of--” Skylar glanced around nervously, realizing that the ghost was probably still hanging around, “Help you with your situation.” The last thing she wanted was to wind up on an already angry ghost’s growing hit list. She nodded at the woman’s thanks and moved to extend her hand, but thought better of it when she remembered they were covered in blood. Instead, she waved awkwardly. “I’m, um, I’m Skylar by the way. Sorry for bleeding all over the floor. And yes, I can definitely do that. I’m sure he’ll be wondering what’s been going on, but I can just say I had a nosebleed and you were helping me.” She said. The lie would be easy enough, but that only unsettled her more. When had she become so okay with secrets and lies? With a shake of her head, she pushed the thought from her mind. Skylar headed back downstairs, her shoulders slumped slightly. Ghosts and blood and lies. This was just part of her life now, wasn’t it.

Being uneasy about ghosts was understandable. Nobody liked being confronted by something they couldn’t even see. Jasmine had the advantage of mostly being able to see ghosts pretty clearly, so she assured, “He’s not here anymore. I’d be able to see him. Think the salt bath hurt him a bit so we’ve got time.” It was a relief that Skylar wasn’t going to let her totally lose face with the customer. She gave a nod of her head and said, “I’m Jasmine. Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault Larry Bob is an asshole. Oh, yeah that works. Thanks for that. That excuse sounds way less crazy than what actually happened.” As Skylar left to go downstairs, Jasmine quickly tidied up the room. That call had been far too close for comfort. She supposed she’d really have to actually check out this Connor guy. At least, that gave her some sort of hope there was an end in sight.

#wickedswriting #skylar #property sould #medical blood tw

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willow-salix · 4 years

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Isolation Update

Day 77 of Isolation on Tracy Island and Alan wanted hotdogs. Not so crazy a thing you might say, but apparently the hotdogs came with a request for beach time, bonfire and spooky story telling before camping on the beach for the night. I was unaware of this little ritual, I had simply wandered along with them in the quest for food.

I like beach time, being a city girl as I am, I’m used to going to the seaside being a strictly once or twice a year event, a day out, a big deal, so to just be able to walk out of the house and down some stairs and find yourself on the beach is pretty magical.

Hearing the constant sound of waves took some getting used to, they kept me awake at first, but now it’s just part of the normal ambiance of the island. Quiet evenings curled up on the couch with a book or some other hobby and soft music courtesy of one of the boys, usually Virgil but sometimes Scott or Gordon, were the norm now. Or a movie night where we all piled on the couches together. Everything we did was accompanied by the sound of the sea. Of all the things I’d had to get used to in regards to living on the island, that was by far one of the easiest and most pleasant.

Blankets and pillows were dragged down to the sand, logs and kindling was taken from storage, hotdogs and buns were collected along with long metal toasting forks on which we’d spear the sausages and toast them over the flames, apparently we were going full on rustic.

Someone had brought along beers and flasks full of cocoa for those of us who weren't in the mood for a drink and tents had been pitched on the sand, although Jeff and Grandma were refusing to camp out. I debated doing the same because I am not a dude and I do not possess the same equipment that they had which allowed them to not need to sit down to use the bathroom, but I was beaten down and made to promise I’d last the entire night.

“OK, I’ll camp, but there had better not be any crabs that will invade the tent in the middle of the night and if I need to pee one of you has to come with me. Promise you’ll come to protect me from creepy crawlies and things that might attack me.”

“We promise we’ll come with you to the bathroom,” Scott assured me.

“And you promise that the toilet in the hangar still has toilet paper?”

“Yes, there is toilet paper,” Virgil promised.

“And you promise that we’ll be camped far enough away from the water that we won't get washed out to sea?”

“Seriously? You actually think we’d let that happen?” Gordon asked.

“Well, I don’t know, you might be sick of me by now,” I shrugged.

They all looked at me.

“Well don’t all deny it at once,” I grumbled. “I might start to think that you like me!”

“We didn’t answer because we weren’t prepared to dignify your blatant need for validation and attention with an answer,” John informed me.

“And frankly we’re slightly insulted that you’d even say it,” Scott sniffed.

“Good try,” Alan hugged me, “but you’re sleeping on the beach with us tonight.”

“Joy,” I muttered. “A night on hard, cold, damp sand when I could be in a soft bed, however will I contain my excitement?”

***

Alan choked on his hotdog, his eyes wide as Jeff finished up his spooky story about the ghost of a cowboy who haunted the back roads of Kansas who had a habit of stealing horses and running them until they collapsed and he could keep them for himself.

Jeff lowered the torch from under his chin and held it out handle first, slowly revolving it around the circle until someone claimed it.

John nudged me. “Go on, you’re good at telling stories.”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so, ghost stories don’t really scare me, humans do.”

“Then tell us a scary story about a human then,” Gordon pushed.

“Fiiiiine,” I groaned, “but don’t blame me if it’s pants.”

I took the torch and flipped it around, almost blinding myself in the process.

“Emily squinted through what little the windscreen wipers managed to clear, peering at the road ahead. Her headlights barely made a dent in the oppressive blackness that was all around her. No light from the moon spilled through the trees that surrounded the road on both sides, no streetlights to ease the darkness. Just herself, her car and the radio playing quietly in the background. She had always hated travelling alone at night, hated that she was forced to drive from one town to the next, never knowing when it would all end,” I began.

“Is this a boring chick story?” Gordon groaned. I smacked him lightly with the torch.

“Shut up, I’m talking here, do you want a story or not?”

“Continue,” Jeff insisted, “I apologise in advance for my rude children.” I nodded and carried on telling the story.

“She just wanted to get home, having been away for far too long. Circumstances were always getting in the way and preventing her from completing her return journey. But this time she would make it, this time she was determined to get home, no hick-ups, no disasters, nothing. At least, not if she had her way.”

Scott snorted. “That never happens, the second you think that all the disasters are over another one comes along to wreck your plans.” The others nodded sagely.

“Peering through the arches in the rain splattered windscreen she tried to look ahead to the bend in the road, checking for oncoming traffic. There shouldn’t be anything at this hour, she glanced at the clock on the dashboard, at almost eleven on a quiet Sunday night. Flicking her eyes back at the road she screamed in shock as a figure emerged from the darkness and stepped out in front of her car. Slamming her foot on the brakes, knuckles white on the steering wheel, she wrenched it this way and that in a total panic trying to swerve away from the figure.”

“That’s how she dies,” Kayo commented. “Her complete lack of ability to drive.” I ignored her and continued.

“With a squeal of rubber on the wet, slick road she came to a stop no more than a foot away from the figure, her heart pounding in her ears, breath coming out in sharp pants as she struggled to regain her composure.”

“She’d never be good during a real situation,” John muttered.

“Guys, I’m trying to set a scene here,” I sighed.

“Sorry,” they all chorused.

“Needing something to focus on she looked ahead at the figure, her windscreen wipers still battling the heavy rain. All she could make out was that the person was tall, he, she guessed it was a he, was wearing a rain soaked parker, the hood pulled up obscuring his face with a beaten up rucksack over one shoulder.

She closed her eyes as her breathing finally began to return to a semi-normal state only to jump out of her skin, giving a little yelp of shock when there was a rap on the passenger side window. She dived for the door lock but her reaction was too slow. The man opened the door and climbed straight into the car, dumping his bag in the foot well.”

“Oh, hell no!” Kayo huffed. “Kick his butt out, don’t stand for that! You’re a woman, you are powerful!”

" 'What the hell do you think you are doing?' Emily gasped.

The man shook off his hood and ran his fingers through his wet hair.

'You almost ran me over, I figured the least you could do was give me a ride into the nearest town. I’ve been trying to get a lift for three hours and not one person stopped. People these days never stop to help someone in need anymore'

Spluttering with indignation, Emily managed to choke out.

‘Well you won’t be getting a lift from me. Get out. I don’t pick up strange men at the side of the road.’

The man shook his head splattering rain drops in her direction and turned to look at her, his deep brown eyes boring into hers, making her shiver slightly.

‘Not gonna happen, I’m not moving. You almost killed me out there, it’s not safe’ He turned in his seat and brazenly pulled the safety belt over his upper body and clicked it into place.”

“How dare he?” Alan gasped. “That’s not how you ask for a ride.”

"Yeah, he wasn't very polite."

I lowered the torch and leveled a glare at them all. They shut up.

“She stared at him, dumbfounded. He just grinned back at her. Almost egging her on, daring her to argue or just drive. Never one to show her fear she growled under her breath, gnashing her teeth, before turning the keys in the ignition and starting the car, jamming it into gear and peeling away down the road.

Refusing to make the journey a pleasant one she barked out. ‘Just to the nearest town.’ Not wanting to have to make conversation or invite him to start one, she turned up the radio, refusing to talk anymore. ‘Don’t worry Emily,’ she told herself. ‘Just get to the next town and you can drop him off, no big. Then you will be home before you know it.’ Feeling a little calmer after her inner pep talk she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, studying him.

He was handsome enough in that rough and ready kind of way. His hair was a little too long and his nose a little big for her tastes but he was pleasant enough to look at, not that she would be doing much of that, she wasn’t that kind of a girl. An air of danger seemed to roll off of him as he casually leaned back in the seat, his gaze travelling up her body, taking in her legs, up to her chest and finally coming to rest on her face.”

“She shouldn’t trust him,” Gordon said wisely. “I wouldn’t trust him.”

"Don't tell me she fancies him," Kayo groaned.

“He’s a creep,” Virgil agreed.

“Women always go for the bad boys,” Scott nodded. “They like a man with a wild streak.”

“Emily tried to ignore his scrutiny, blocking out how uncomfortable it made her feel, like a prized piece of meat in the butchers shop window. She tried to concentrate on her driving, focusing on the music coming from the radio, singing along softly to the song that was playing.

The music ended and she heard the familiar jingle of the station’s news program start to play. Always one for keeping up with current affairs she turned the volume up a notch more and listened intently, one never knew what might come up in conversation and she liked to be prepared, especially if she did make it home tonight, as was her plan.

She listened through the usual football results, political scandals and celebrity breakups and was just reaching out to change the channel when the next bulletin, this time national news, stopped her short.

‘The back roads killer has struck again, leaving another mutilated body to be found abandoned on the side of the road, this time in the county of Essex. Police are urging all road users to be aware of the potential danger of driving alone at this …’

The man reached over and flicked the radio off plunging them into silence. His hand was large, yet his fingers were surprisingly slim, it was a strong looking hand. ‘I hate the news, it always depresses me. I would much rather talk to you.’ He swiveled sideways in the seat to look at her again.”

“Noooo,” Gordon yelled. “He’s going to kill her!”

“Get out of the car, get out of the car!” Virgil yelped.

“I’d kick his butt,” Grandma proclaimed, folding her arms.

“Emily barely heard him, paying his words no attention, her mind was racing, going over and over the news report, they had found another body, drivers had been warned, she felt a wave of panic wash over her. She was jolted out of her thoughts by his hand landing on her thigh and squeezing.

‘How about you and me go for a little drink when we get to town humm?’ She slapped at his hand and spun round to face him.

“Don’t get a drink with him!” Grandma ordered, like it would do any good.

“Get off! What the hell do you think you are doing? How dare you. You have no right to put your hands on me.” For the second time that night she slammed the breaks on and skidded to a halt, stopped again on the deserted country road.

‘Oh come now, you know you want it. You keep looking at me with that look in your eye. I bet you pick up all kinds of men for a quick romp in the back seat.’

“Boy, he’s a nasty one,” Jeff commented. “She’s not done anything wrong, she was just driving home.”

“Emily glared at him, seeing red. Here was yet another man who thought the worst of her, who thought that all they had to do was cock an eyebrow at her and she would come running, putty in their arms. Well he could think again.

Reaching down the side of her seat, her hand closed around the handle. Giving him no indication as to her intentions she lunged at him. She had taken him completely by surprise, he never had a chance to react, to defend himself.

Slashing at him in a blind rage, she stabbed him twice in the stomach before he doubled over in pain and shock, her blade cutting his hands as he lifted them to protect his face.”

“Oh, snap!” Kayo yelped.

“She un-clipped her belt and slipped out of her seat, climbing astride his lap, she entwined her fingers in his hair and wrenched his head back, slicing his throat in one swift move. Panting, she shifted back into her own seat and looked at him. His eyes were glassy, staring at nothing. Blood was beginning to pool in the foot well, soaking into his bag, running down to stain the seat covers.

‘Well crap,’ Emily started the car again and drove on a little further, talking to him the whole time.

‘Just had to do it didn’t you? You were just like the others. Couldn’t just let me get home like I wanted to. Oh no, you had to try it on. You took one look at me and just saw nothing but an attractive body. You didn’t care about my feelings, my brain,’ she sighed deeply. ‘And now I have to steal yet another car and find somewhere to leave you. Bloody fantastic, I’ll never get home at this rate.’ She leaned over and playfully smacked his cheek. Pulling over to the side of the road she stopped the car.

‘You my friend should have left the radio on,’ She pocketed her trusty knife and began to walk. One day, she was sure, things would go right, things would go her way, she would find her way home.”

I sat up straighter, clicking off the torch, looking round at the shocked faces staring back at me.

“So she was the killer?”

“No way!”

“She’s the one that was going around murdering people and dumping them on the side of the road?”

“Never underestimate a woman,” I shrugged, accepting the high five that first Kayo then Grandma offered up.

“That wasn’t scary at all,” Alan huffed. I stuck my tongue out at him.

“I think that’s enough for me tonight,” Jeff declared, getting to his feet. “I’m going to bed, don’t you kids stay up too late.”

“I’m going to head back too,” Grandma added, getting up to follow after Jeff.

We all broke out more beers and hot chocolate and told a few more stories before bed, each trying to outdo the other in the scary stakes until we gave up and called it a night, Gordon and Alan declaring that they hadn't been scared at all and that we had all failed.

As predicted, I’d only been asleep about an hour before I was woken by my protesting bladder. I extracted myself from the mass of sleeping bag, blankets and long Tracy limbs in the form of John who is not the most compact of sleepers and crawled out of the tent.

I had taken the torch with me to bed, knowing I’d need it. Soft snores rang out from the ring of tents, everyone was asleep. I wouldn't bother waking anyone, I could be brave. The moon was glowing quite brightly and the fire hadn’t completely died out so there was enough light to see by. The hangar was just there, not a three minute walk, I could do this. Its not like anyone or anything could get onto the island without anyone knowing and any creepy crawlies would be more scared of me than I should be of them. That's what I told myself anyway but I still felt uncomfortable.

Determined to do this alone, my need growing quite desperate, I pointed my torch beam at the ground, looking out for crabs that might be lying in wait to nip at my toes as I made my way across the sand.

Everything was quiet, the only sound was that of the sea and the insects in the greenery around us. It was actually quite eerie, I wasn't used to such silence, almost always surrounded by Tracys that came in two volumes, noisy or deafening. John was the only quiet one of the bunch and that was debatable when he got annoyed by them.

I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself. It had actually grown quite chilly, especially since I’d just left the warmth of the tent. I was definitely wishing I’d dragged a blanket with me to use as a shawl.

I made it to the hangar and did my business and was soon on my way back.

I quickened my pace, wanting to hurry and get back to bed to warm up and I didn't hear the noise at first. Not until a shadow separated itself from the darkness and stepped out in front of me.

“Gahhh,”I screamed, immediately dropping into the defensive pose that Kayo had drummed into me.

“Well, at least you learnt something,” she muttered.

“You crazy moo! What are you doing out here creeping around in the dark? You almost gave me a heart attack!” I hissed, beyond annoyed.

“What was that?” I heard Alan yelp in the distance.

“Ghost?” Gordon answered. “Do you think the island is actually haunted?”

“No, maybe some prehistoric monster is roaming the caves?”

Kayo slapped her hand over my mouth when I went to call out to tell them it was OK, an evil glint in her eyes.

“I thought they weren’t scared?” she whispered. “Maybe we could have a little fun?”

Oooh, fun sounded good. I nodded. They had pranked me enough times that I was more than ready to turn the tables on them.

Diving into the undergrowth we dragged out some ferns, branches and big palm leaves that had fallen and, with much suppressed giggling, managed a rough and ready monster costume each.

We crept up to their tent, seeing a light on inside and the two boys sitting up in their blankets.

She took one side, I took the other and using a branch we scratched lightly on the canvas. They froze. A light shined out at us. I moved closer so they could see the outline of my disguise.

Kayo did the same on the other side. She looked at me and nodded, holding up three fingers, she slowly counted down. When she got to one we both screamed at the top of our lungs and drummed our hands on the tent.

The boys screamed too and scrambled. We ducked down behind the tent as they burst through the flap and took off like a rocket towards the house.

Scott stuck his head out of his tent just in time to witness us popping back up and our high five. He grinned, gave us a thumbs up and vanished back inside.

We stripped off our adornments and hid them back in the undergrowth, kicking sand over our footprints before we retired for the night.

I crawled back inside my tent, still giggling to be met by John’s best 'I'm judging you' face.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing,” I answered innocently, dropping down beside him.

He reached out, plucking a leaf from my hair.

“Evidence begs to differ.”

“I blame Kayo.”

“Unfortunately that’s so believable that I can’t think of a valid argument right now,” he yawned, flopping back down. “I knew you’d be nothing but trouble.”

I shrugged and got back under the blankets. “Admit it, without me life would be so much more boring.”

“I admit nothing,” he grumbled, but I could hear the smile in his voice. “Shut up and go back to sleep.”

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds 2015 #Thunderbirds in isolation #Isolation Island #social isolation

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bewaretheundead91 · 4 years

Text

Devenford Prep Part 35

A/N: Back by somewhat popular demand I give you an update for my Brett Talbot Devenford Prep series. I will say that depending on the amount of people who read this will potentially determine if I update again. Like I have said before I’m trying to close this fic up. Is this a perfect update? By all means no! Are there errors? Probably a lot of them. Are the tenses everywhere...you betcha. Was it fun to dive back into this world? Hell yeah! Please send me messages about what you think!

Parts 1-34

Face claims for characters other than Y/N

“A dead pool?” Erika practically shouts as she sits down at her desk. “Like an actual list someone threw together and is willing to give money to assassins to kill you and other freaky people?”

“Freaky people?” You scratch your head.

“And you’re worth how much?” She bolts her head up making her curls shake. Her eyes go wide.

“I already told you, $900,000,” You whisper through your teeth and close your eyes. “This really was a bad time to tell you, we’re about to take a test and all you’ll be thinking about is what I’ve been thinking about since last night.”

“I’m sure you were thinking about something else last night.”

“Excuse me?” You glare at her.

“But now I have to worry about you and Liam being potentially killed!” She raises her voice.

“What was that Erika?” The teacher asks walking to the front of the classroom with a stack of freshly printed tests. You could still smell the ink and heat of the paper.

“Nothing, it’s apart of this thing,” She starts to improv. “This thing…”

“This thing?” The teacher asks. “Does it have anything relevance to the test the class is about to take?”

“Halloween!” You shout. “It’s about Halloween, this thing…sorry for talking so loudly.”

“Y/N,” The teacher starts. “These conversations are for before or after class.”

“You’re completely right.” You nod.

The teacher passes the tests out and you stare blankly at the first page. Your eyes skim over the questions and start filling in answers as best as possible. You glance over at your finger tips every few seconds feeling the anxiety at the base of your wrist waiting to spring out your claws.

This made you curious about how Brett of all people had the time to study during the life he was living. Brett was able to maintain his muscly physique, be the captain of the lacrosse team, make out with Samatha, while flirting with all the girl in school and also had the time to pester you. Most of all he was a werewolf with werewolf parents and pack meetings. And now there was you. Had his grades fallen because of you?

We’ve got this, you hear Brett’s voice in your head, You’ll always have me. A smile spreads across your lips and you catch Erika shaking her head at you in your peripherals.

After class you rush out into the hallway.

“Oh no you don’t,” Erika shouts shoving through people in the hallway. “You’re going to admit this and you’re going to admit this now. I need to know everything.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You says turning around. Erika stops beside you and breaths in deeply.

“I’m your best friend, I’m supposed to be the first person to know,” She says. “Who knows who you like and I’m not stupid Y/N, and me and Liam need a double date to this damn dance.”

“What?” You shout.

“I saw you in class, you were thinking about him,” Erika says and winks. “That smile in class wasn't just a I’m happy smile, it was a I’m in love smile. It was an I’m in love with…smile.”

“I was just smiling,” You says griping the strap of your backpack. “I’m really sure Liam would love to double date with us…with Brett and who ever he takes.”

“You, he’s taking you,” Erika says. “Like who the hell else would he take Samantha is with his cousin now right?”

“That’s not Brett’s cousin,” You inform and chuckle. “Killian, the dark hair guy is in Brett’s pack.”

“Oh I should have connected the dots.”

“Who are you in love with Y/N?” Brett walks past a few peers with a furrowed brows.

“Both of you guys frustrate me,” Erika turns to Brett. “Brett it’s more than when you used to annoy the hell out of her and I would have to listen to her complain about it.”

Brett cranks his head back in confusion.

“I didn’t even realize how much you actually talk until last week,” Brett blurts out. “Erika you talk a lot and you’re really loud. And confusing.”

“Brett!” You turn your head and flash your wolf eyes at him. He rolls his eyes.

“You did not just…” He flashes his eyes at you and playfully shoves you.

“I saw that!” Erika shouts.

“You’ve got be quiet.” Brett says dropping his happy expression. He pinches the bride of his nose.

“And you’ve got to be a bit nicer,” You start to walk away from Brett and Erika. Erika trails behind you and makes it to your side. “Come on defend yourself against tall stuff over there because if you’re so keen with whatever you want us to do or become, you’re going to have to get used to that over there.”

“I’m used to him.”

“You’re used to one side of him, Talbot is a very confusing guy.”

“Get used to what?” Brett asks draping an arm across your shoulders. “Also I’m right here, not over there.”

“Yes you are.” You say taking in a deep breath, taking in the scent of his skin. He wasn’t wearing any cologne only a lightly scented deodorant. You take a quick glance as his neck with an urge to press your lips and nose against the delicate skin. Brett meets your eyes as you were turning your head back to the hallway.

“900,000 huh? Over heard some people talking about a strange conversation you had in class today Y/N,” Brett pauses and shoots a glare at your best friend. “And Erika!”

“Oh yeah,” Erika perks up. “That’s a lot. I’m sorry.”

“Can we not discuss dead pool information at school?” Brett asks. “Who knows who the hell is working for this benefactor guy. I mean a kid from the beacon hills lacrosse team tried to kill you and Liam. His girlfriend also got me good and damn you almost died.”

“Brett!” You elbow him in the side he jumps slightly. “I haven’t even talked to Erika about that yet!”

“Wait you and Liam almost died?” Erika asks stoping her slow pace walk. You can see her face searching for an emotion to portray. Her backpack falls to the floor with her heavy text books producing a loud thud. “When?”

“Several times.” Brett says, like it was casual.

“No wonder you were being so weird around me,” Erika places her hand over her mouth. “And I was such a..”

“I haven’t even told her the amount of time Brett! I don’t want her to freak out.”

“Well babe, it’s time to rip that bandaid off if she’s going to be stuck in this mess with us. And with Liam.”

“Well babe,” You say sliding out from beneath his shoulder. “We aren’t supposed to be discussing these things on campus aren’t we.”

“Aww you called him babe.” Erika says retrieving her smile.

“I’m leaving you both and Brett you can drive yourself to Scott’s tonight after the game! I need some space from you.”

“Hey now!” He shouts down the hallway. “You’ll wear my jersey wont you?”

“What?” You shout with confusion and look at Erika. She was raising her brows up and down over and over again.

“It’s the last game before the dance,” Brett pulls something out of his backpack and chucks it across the hall. You instantly catch it and hold it up. It was a dark green jersey with Brett’s Lacrosse number on the back of it. You could smell him on it which made your stomach flip. You wanted to press the fabric to your nose and even rub it all over your skin, but of course didn’t. What was about his scent that brought you comfort and made you so nervous at the same time? “You’ll wear it right?”

“Do I have a choice Talbot?”

“No,” He shouts laughing. Everyone in the hallway was staring. “No choice at all.”

Brett turns around and walks off. Erika snatches the jersey from your hands.

“You know what this means right?” Erika asks examining the fabric.

“It means two friends are going to a lacrosse game tonight?”

“It means two friends are going to a lacrosse game and one of those friends will be cheering on her boyfriend wearing his jersey. It’s like one of those teen movies you always watch.”

“Erika I’m completely confused about how you are supporting something like Brett and I dating.” You grab the jersey back before she held it for too long. You didn’t want her scent on it.

“So you are you two?” She asks.

“No, you would already know. Werewolves don’t date.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Well they aren’t right now. Since someone wants them all dead.”

“That’s not even funny!”

After school you walk upstairs and plop yourself onto your bed. Erika was sensing that you and Brett were something more than just strangers turned friends. But was it true? Did Brett think that way? You could smell the jersey Brett had given to you through the nasty sweaty clothes in your gym bag. You had tossed the jersey into the gym bag in hopes that it wouldn’t distract you for the remainder of the school day. Was your scent affecting Brett like his was affecting you?

You hop off of your bed and pull out the green top. You quickly glance at your bedroom door to make sure it was closed, it was. The fabric was pressed to your nose instantly and you fall down on your bed with a small bounce. You close your eyes and the familiar feeling that you woke up with that night you and Brett had found each other in the woods slithered across your stomach and over your core. You scrunch your body around the jersey and feel your body start to sweat and overheat.

“Maybe what I am feeling is more than I thought,” You say and stand up. You toss the shirt to your bed. “He wouldn’t ask me to wear his jersey just because we are friends right?”

Your phone buzzes and you pull it out of your bag. My parents will be at the game tonight along with my sister, Brett had text, they are excited to see you. You feel your body shiver and now your eyes were wolfing out. See them there, you respond then toss the phone next to the jersey.

“A cold shower it is,” You walk into your bathroom and turn the water on and step in with your clothes on. You let the cold water run over your hair and down your blazer. The clothes suction to your body. “What the hell?”

You and Erika arrive at the game and approach the bleachers. You could smell the Talbots in the crowd and it made your blood boil and nervous. Erika was looking at her phone texting Liam that she would see him after the game. You stretch your neck out looking for Brett in the crowd on the field and didn’t see him anywhere. You take a deep breath in taking his scent that lingered on the jersey in with it.

“This is such a bad idea,” You say after she presses send. “We shouldn’t even be out here, we should all be inside hiding or making sure we aren’t seen until we find a way to…kill those things.”

“There is no way anything will happen tonight in front of everyone. In fact this is probably the safest place to be,” Erika says and picks the green material of Brett’s Jersey you had layered over a long sleeve black shirt. “You look hot in his jersey. I mean no one at Devenford prep will ever mess with you ever again. He’s claimed you.”

“Ew, if you only knew how even more messed up that sounds with us being werewolves. This isn't some YA novel with a focus of werewolf mates. It doesn’t even work like that. I think.”

“I wasn’t even trying to go there,” Erika makes a disgusted face. “I was just saying that since he likes you no one will be able to make fun of you without answering to Brett.”

“No one will make fun of me without answering to this.” You fling out your claws.

“My boy better be keeping an eye on you.” A man say behind you and Erika interrupting your conversation.

“Mr. Talbot,” You say making an embarrassed expression as you turn around to meet the very tall parents of Brett Talbot. “Mrs. Talbot and Lori. Always nice to see you all again.”

“I hope you’ve been doing a bit better, Y/N,” Mrs. Talbot says with a warm smile. “You’ll have to come by for dinner again. Brett keeps us very informed about everything.”

“And this must be Erika?” Lori asks. “My brother told me all about how you freaked out the other night and how you’re dating one of us.”

“It was very much warranted,” Erika says. “Trust me. I’m not even ashamed about it. In fact I’m sort freaked out that well Brett and Y/N and you guys…”

“When Erika gets nervous,” You begin to say. “She-”

“She talks a lot,” Brett pops out in front of bleachers in only his lower half of his lacrosse uniform. You swallow hard and mouth goes dry after giving him a glance up and down. “Isn’t that right Erika? It’s only fitting that I tell my parents about it.”

“I guess?” Erika asks. “I’m still taking it all in.”

“My son better be keeping an eye on you too, Erika,” Brett’s dad says. You watch as he looks over toward your friend. “I told him anyone that is important to you, Y/N, should be looked after.”

“I…ugh…” Erika was speechless.

“Brett’s jersey sure looks better on you than on him,” Lorie says lifting her brows. “He also smells so strange right now. Go put a shirt on it’s gross!”

“I have to agree,” Brett says. He approaches you and pulls at the fabric. “Really it does and I like it when you smell like me.”

“Brett!” Mrs. Talbot practically scolds. “Son, don’t.”

“That’s gross.” Lori says again.

“Oh come on Lorie!” Brett shouts. “One day you’ll understand.”

“Well I think Erika and I are going to go find a seat. Good luck with the game Brett,” You awkwardly and playfully punch the tall boy’s bare arm. “I’m sure you’re going to crush it. Mr. and Mrs. Talbot nice talking to you guys and again I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

You push Erika forward toward a section of bleachers that were far away from the Talbots. She looks back at you and you gently pushed her towards a spot.

“Shouldn’t we sit with the Talbots?” Erika asks.

“No I can’t I’m honestly losing it in this jersey right now,” You say grabbing a fist full of shirt. “I would be so uncomfortable.”

“What do you mean? It can’t be uncomfortable, it’s a loose fit on you.”

“His scent is driving me crazy,” You finally admit to Erika. “It’s like he’s slept in this shirt everyday for a week or a month. It’s so strong. And I’m burning up. I want to rip it off.”

“He did say he likes you smelling like him,” Erika leans in and takes a sniff. “It’s just weird because I can’t smell anything, but the perfume you’re wearing.”

“I had to take a 30 minute cold shower before I picked you up this afternoon. I practically bathed in perfume hoping it would distract me. Today I shoved it into my gym bag hoping my sweaty clothes would cover it up.”

“You did seem a little on edge today, but I thought it was because of the dead pool.”

“The dead pool isn’t helping. And all I want is to…” Brett meets your eyes across the field. “I just want press my face up against his neck and wrap my arms and legs around him. It’s like I practically want to eat him right now.”

“Whoah, um that’s a lot and very out of character for you,” Erika says cranking her head back. “I didn’t even know you were capable of feelings like that.”

“I’m a teenager!”

“Liam constantly wants to curl up with me and just lay there. He always wants to fall asleep on top of me..”

Brett’s eyes flash bright yellow.

“Oh god he heard me say that and I’m sure his parent’s did too,” You bring your knees up on the seat and you wrap your arms around her legs. “I should just go home. I need a distraction. This night can’t get any worse. The last person in this world who would ever want me is Brett and the last person I should want is Brett.”

“Wolf things,” Erika says grabbing your shoulders. “It’s just a wolf thing. It has to be. It’s making you feel these things.”

“I mean it could be, it’s never been this bad,” You turn your body towards Erika. “I’m finally admitting to you and only you Erika.”

“What exactly are you admitting?”

“I don’t know, but I think what I feel for Brett is more than just friends.”

Before the game starts Brett jogs over towards a bench and pulls on his lacrosse pads and Jersey. He walks over toward the bleachers where you were sitting and ascends up the steps.

“I’m happy you’re wearing my jersey,” He says with a warm smile. “I’m glad about what we have. Regardless of what we want to call it. We don’t have to question what it is.”

Brett approaches you and you start to feel dizzy. He tilts his head and extends a hand to a section of hair that had fallen over your eyes. Gently he places it behind your ear. He really shouldn’t have done that.

“Do you recall when you told me I might be bad luck for your games?” You ask as you stand. “I hope that me wearing your jersey doesn’t give you bad luck tonight.”

“I just said that to you to get you all riled up. You’ll never be bad luck for me,” He says with a wink. “But I need you cheer me on as loudly as you can, scream my name for me babe.”

“Don’t call me babe!” You snapped. “I’ve told you that.”

Brett winks at you and jogs down the steps towards the field.

“I’m going to pass out.” You say. Your legs go weak and you fall back down to your seat.

“Scream his name for him?” Erika says fanning her face with her hand. “This is getting out of hand.”

“The game needs to start and I need to go for a run.”

#teen wolf #Brett Tabolt #Brett talbot imagine #teen wolf imagine #Brett talbot fic

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ask-de-writer · 4 years

Text

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 57 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 57 of 83

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

written 2007

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story? Read from the beginning. PART 1 is here

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“For me, I owe him my life. Many of us onboard owe him life or at the least a last and fair chance at it. We have been despised as the scupper scrapings of the fleet, with some truth. But there’s often two sides to events. My case may illustrate.

“A number of Gatherings ago, I was on the Grinna. I was put off the ship, accused of seduction in violation of the Marriage Laws. There was a trial logged and the log entry was put into fleet records. The Captain and three other officers, including the Captain’s nephew were my accusers and they blackened my name sufficiently that no ship would take me on.

“I was due to drown when the rafts were stowed back on the bottom after the Gathering. Barad actually looked into the matter and tried to bring irregularities in the record up before the Council. They would not hear him, so he gave me a berth here. I have become the lead helmsman and hold the title and job of Battle Commanding.”

As Kurin listened, she began work on the upper half of the shell, cutting parts and testing their fit. She fitted the upper half of the shell and made edges that interlocked over the lower part. She added straps and the buckles to hold the whole thing together.

When Darkistry finished her account, Kurin asked, “Where is the injustice? You had your rights. Your trial was logged.”

“That trial was never held. I was discredited before the fleet to keep the truth of a gang rape involving those four officers from coming out. While they were raping me they told me that it was my fault for looking too good.

“They got away with it because Macom, the Grinna’s Captain was head of the Council that Gathering.

“Ask Doctor Corin how much work he had to do to repair the damage that those four did to me.” Bitterly she added, “Because of them, I will never have a child of my own.”

“I see,” said Kurin thoughtfully. “I need to ask you something totally different, though. How can I trust anything that I hear from the people on this ship?”

“That’s a hard one to answer. We have been ordered to tell you whatever you ask, as completely and truthfully as possible. Truth is our only hope for justice. Nothing is to be hidden from you. Every record on this ship, every person on this ship and every thing however trivial, is there for you to ask or see.”

“What is the title of Battle Commanding?”

“It means that I make all tactical decisions and both steer the ship and direct the crew during combat.”

“Why you and not Barad or Tanlin?”

“We ran tests after reading Captain Sula’s book on strategy and tactics. I was best. When we had to ram the Fauline to get Barad and Tanlin back safe, I was at the helm.”

“You sank the Fauline?” Kurin asked, horrified.

“No. I hit her a glancing blow with a bowsprit hook-out to disable her. I only took out her starboard standing and running rigging to the mainmast. I was lining up for a kill run when they finally let Captain Barad and Lady Tanlin go. We repaired the damage that we did and left before the big storm hit.”

“You wrecked her and then repaired her? Why?”

“We got back what we needed, our Captain and our Lady . We couldn’t just leave the Fauline to die in the storm, even if they did betray us.”

Kurin was lost in thought as she left the sickbay. While she had been fixing the shell for Darkistry’s leg, Doctor Corin had stitched and bound Darkistry’s arm. After that, he had seen to his daughter, Gemma. She only had a mild concussion and a cut on her scalp that had bled in the alarming but not dangerous way of head wounds. Kurin felt a light pluck at her sleeve.

A worried Arnat asked her, “Why doesn’t Mommy get up? The doctor is all done with her.”

Kurin knelt to put her eyes at his level. “Arnat, your mother is very seriously hurt. The doctor gave her a medicine to make her sleep and stay really still while she gets better.”

“Will she get better? Everyone is so worried and I can hear a whale singing.

“The last time that I heard an Orca sing, Kurti died — — I liked her, too.” He began to sniffle and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

Kurin, who was all to familiar with loss, answered, “I will be honest with you, Arnat. I don’t know. All that we can do now is wait. Remember, when Kurti died, Tanlin woke up to the same Whale Song.

“Cat taught me that the whales sing to honor people that they like and not even the Great Dragons can say why or for whom there will be an Orca song.”

Kurin smiled at him and ruffled his hair. “I need a guide to show me about the ship. Will you help me?” I hope that I can keep him from too much hurt.

“Sure, Kurin, if we can come and see my Mommy sometimes,” Arnat replied, plainly worried.

“Count on it. Now, I need to find Captain Tanlin. Lead the way.” They found Captain Tanlin on the quarterdeck, near the steering tackle. Kurin examined the way that it was rigged with interest as they approached. This arrangement was unique to the Grandalor, so far as she knew.

Tanlin’s back was to them, and Kurin realized that her complex braid was different than the one that she had worn when they first met. She had a basket, now nearly empty of fish, and was giving one to Skye, who was perched on her shoulder.

Thunderhead was circling down slowly until Skye took off with her fish, flapping her big wings in powerful strokes as she headed up to the nest. Thunderhead fell in a dive that he braked with booming wings and widespread tail, settling gently onto Tanlin’s shoulder where Skye had been moments before.

Kurin watched in awe as Tanlin casually gave the last fish to Thunderhead and scratched him under a slightly raised wing. The bird soaked up a few minutes of scratching and then took off to feed his hungry family. Tanlin laughed in unguarded joy watching him fly.

As she turned about and saw Kurin, she sobered. “Oi’m off wotch just now. Oi take ‘t t’at ye wont t’ talk t’ m’? Nae time like t’e present. Do ye wont t’ talk ‘ere or in our cabin, w’ere tis more comfortable?”

“Comfort is good. I’ve been standing or in small boats all day. I would like to sit for a while. When do you eat dinner? I’m famished.” Kurin sucked in her stomach and mocked starvation.

Tanlin looked mortified. “Oi’ve brought ye all t’is way an’ set ye t’ work an’ never even offered a snack. W’ere are m’ manners?” She made a pantomime of looking in the fish basket and said, “T’at rascal T’under’ead must ‘ave made off wit’ t’em. Oi ‘ad t’em right in ‘ere wit’ t’e fish.”

Kurin actually laughed at Tanlin’s comic behavior. As they descended the companion-ladder Tanlin called to the cabin-boy waiting by her door, “Tahm! Go t’ t’e galley an’ bring us woter an’ food. Kurin ha’nae eaten since breakfast!” He left at once. Tanlin slid aside a door for Kurin and ushered her into the Captain’s cabin.

Kurin took a comfortable chair and without further ceremony said, “Darkistry told me some terrible things about her past and about ramming the Fauline.” She shook her head sadly and asked what was foremost in her mind. “What do you know about my being poisoned?”

TO BE CONTINUED

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#SEA DRAGON’S GIFT #Part 57 of 83 #World of Sea #Written by De Writer

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tardistimes · 4 years

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Vabivis

Prequel to Daviron (which I posted on my main blog but all future DW stuff will go on this one). I’ve not posted many fanfiction on here before, so I’m still figuring out how to lay this out. If you prefer AO3 the link for that is here.

Summary: After hearing about the giant spiders terrorising Sheffield from an excited Doctor's texts, O travels up north to see them first-hand and ends up being invited to travel in the TARDIS. Or, how the Master met Ana Hawkins. A prequel to Daviron.

Ana had first met O when he’d helped the Doctor find out some useful information about Jack Robertson, the American billionaire they had linked to the giant spiders terrorising Sheffield. A long-suffering arachnophobe, Ana hadn’t been thrilled by that escapade and often found herself in the company of O, who – intrigued by the Doctor’s description of the creatures – had travelled up North to look at them first hand.

Despite taking the initiative to join them, he was always careful not to get in the way, hanging behind the fam and observing the Doctor’s performance. Ana stayed beside him once they were introduced, happy to be as far away from the gigantic arachnids as was humanely possible. Standing beside him, she could almost pretend that she was a spectator too; a spectator, she reasoned, was less likely to get eaten by a spider.

She felt safe in his presence. Despite everything that happened around them, people being killed – eaten – by the creatures, he was unfailing inquisitive, never tense or frightened or confused. O never seemed to mind her presence either, always waiting for her to join him with a question on the tip of his tongue about her, the fam, the Doctor, the aliens they’d encountered and the adventures they’d had. He was also kind enough not to laugh in her face whenever the creatures got too close and her phobia would rear its ugly head. She could still see the humour in his eyes though, dancing behind his calm expression, but she conceded she was acting rather ridiculously. Even the relatively small spiders made her shriek and attempt to dive behind him.

When the Doctor had suggested he tag along for their next trip, a reward for his contributions, Ana had been thrilled. As the newest addition to the TARDIS, she had often felt she stuck out among the fam – not having the connections they had forged. Sometimes it felt like she would never fit in and had suggested on more than one occasion that she stay behind so the others could enjoy a trip without her. The Doctor had urged her to stay however, and so she had. With O there she wasn’t the only oddball anymore: existing outside the close-knit bond the fam had. That was what she’d thought at first anyway, but they quickly discovered the strange synergy that existed between the Doctor and O. He seemed to understand her more than anyone else in the TARDIS, even the fam. But then again, O had been in touch with her for longer than any of them. That’s how he explained it away when Ana had asked about their past.

“What about you?” O queried, looking at her curiously from across the kitchen table. “How did you first meet the Doctor?”

“It was an accident,” Ana said. “I’d gone to Sheffield for work…”

“What do you do?” O interrupted, immediately apologising for doing so.

“No, it’s okay. I work in private security. A family who lived there were interviewing for a new head of security so I went along…”

“Did you get it?” O asked. “Oh, I did it again. Sorry.”

She smiled at him indulgently. “It’s fine, really. And, to answer your question, I didn’t actually make it there.”

“The Doctor?” He predicted eagerly.

“The Doctor,” Ana confirmed. “Grace had just died – Graham’s wife.” She hastily clarified before O could interrupt again. “And they were all staying in Sheffield while they organised the funeral. The Doctor was knocking around the place, going on the odd trip in the TARDIS, mostly on her own but sometimes Yaz went with her.”

“So, aliens?” O guessed.

“No.”

His face fell and Ana grinned at him again. “Robertson wasn’t an alien. Neither were the spiders.”

“True.”

“The Doctor was looking for materials to make a new sonic screwdriver. Yaz knew there was this scrapyard near to where the Doctor had parked the TARDIS, and they both went to see if they could find anything useful. A lot of cars went to the scrapyard, and they loaded them into these gigantic metal frames. A grapple truck was being driven through the lot when the arm suddenly swung out and hit the frame. All the stuff on the lower tiers was tightly strapped in and didn’t budge, but it knocked everything on the top row off. And standing right underneath it all was Yaz and the Doctor. I was walking near the entrance, which luckily is close to where they were, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to get them out of the way in time…”

“So you saved their lives?” O said, impressed.

“They probably would have been fine even if I hadn’t shown up.” Ana protested. “It made a lot of noise, they knew to run.”

“We absolutely would have died.” The Doctor chimed in, walking past with a box of tools to work on the TARDIS console. “I had my head inside a car bonnet at the time.”

“She’s exaggerating.”

“No, I think we would have died too,” Yaz said in passing, following the Doctor to the console room. Poking her head around the door to the kitchen, she added: “Ana definitely saved our lives.”

“As soon as I saw they weren’t hurt, I went after the guy driving the truck and stopped him. Yaz identified him as a criminal she’d encountered before – you know she’s a police officer right – then she made an official arrest and took him into the nearest station where he was charged with attempted murder.”

“Nasty piece of work he is,” Yaz said. “I was part of a raid which broke up a dogfighting ring he’d set up and I was the one who caught him when he tried to run out the back. Hated me ever since. Was happy to watch Ana kick his ass.”

Ana sighed. She reserved her next comment until she was sure both women were out of earshot. “Anyway. They felt like they owed me for ‘saving’ them, so the Doctor took me on a trip to Drion-5 while Graham and Ryan had the funeral. She introduced me to everyone when we got back. I thought that would be it, but Graham convinced me to tag along on their next trip and I’ve been with them ever since.”

O sat silently, turning her story over in his head before pressing on with his seemingly never-ending list of questions. “So how did you get into private security?”

Habitually rolling her eyes, she explained that the Hawkins’ all had lengthy careers in law enforcement.

“Police?”

“Everything really. Army, navy, police force, even had the odd spy, or so I’m told.” She added, eyeing O.

He held up his hands. “I’m just an analyst.”

“Hmm. That’s what they all say.”

“Where did you train?”

“Lots of places. My Dad taught me a lot, enrolled me in defence classes when I was a kid. Then I did some training with the Army, but I didn’t like it there. Dad had gone into private security after he retired from the NCA and it seemed like something I would enjoy more. Fewer rules, more freedom.”

“Did you ever try the secret services?”

“Are you asking if I’ve ever been an analyst?” Ana chuckled. “No. Didn’t seem like it would be for me.”

“It’s not like James Bond you know.” O pointed out, almost looking disappointed.

“I know. I’d be more interested if it were.” She laughed.

“You like danger then?”

Her nose wrinkled. “I don’t think any of us would be here if we didn’t.”

“And yet a spider sends you running for cover?”

“They move so fast!” Ana defended herself while O took his turn to snicker. “I don’t know why you’re laughing, you’re here too.”

“I have to be. Who else would you use as a human shield the next time we encounter an arachnid?” He teased.

While they were all somewhat envious of O’s close relationship with the Doctor – Ana having listened to many conversations between the fam discussing it, discussing him and wondering what on earth O’s real name was – she no longer felt quite so alone in that infinitely large TARDIS. She might still be the outsider when it came to the Doctor and the fam, but she’d found a close friend in O. Someone who always volunteered to partner with her when the fam split up to look for clues. A willing ear whenever she wanted to talk about any of the crazy and amazing things they’d seen on their travels. He was the person who gripped her hand as they ran from the danger they both secretly thrilled for. O was the only person who really seemed to understand what she was thinking.

Within a few trips of O joining the TARDIS, Ana became eager to join the latest trip; no longer feeling like a burden who stuck out in the group. She had someone now who seemed to want her there; not out of obligation, because they thought they owed her. But someone who enjoyed her company. O texted her when they were out of the TARDIS and, having returned to London after failing to secure the job in Sheffield, Ana would sometimes meet him during the periods they went home to live their normal lives. He became her closest friend, which became apparent when they returned from Pendle Hill.

It had been a stressful adventure. Between the women facing accusations of witchcraft – that had been bandied about with casual threats of murder – to Ryan and O dealing with racist comments from the locals, they were all ready for some downtime. Graham had suggested a trip home to relax but, instead, the Doctor had jumped to offer some fun.

“Fun?” Graham asked a little dubiously. “No offence Doc, but you’ve tried taking us out for fun trips before. We nearly always end up running for our lives.”

“What did you have in mind?” Ryan chipped in, curious of what the Doctor considered fun.

“You each choose somewhere you want to go. We’ll take it in turns.” She said happily. “Any time, any place, any planet. Whatever you want.”

“Oh, can we go to the moon?” Graham immediately requested. “I’ve always wanted to go to the moon.”

“Yeah!” The Doctor agreed, twirling towards the TARDIS console. “When would you like to go? Present time, when it’s a somewhat large planetary satellite with a couple of flags stuck in it? In the past when no human has set foot on it yet? Or in the future when it’s been terraformed and has its own theme park?”

“A theme park?” Graham repeated dumbly, somewhat horrified at his childhood fascination having been converted into an amusement park.

“Theme park it is!” The Doctor cheered, misperceiving his question as a decision. She grabbed hold of the console and started inputting their destination. Ana quickly grabbed hold of a rail and O wisely mirrored her move. Trips in the TARDIS were never smooth.

Leading them outside, the Doctor started explaining about the amusement park – O listened to her intently. It took her a minute to realise she had no one else’s attention however. The rest of them were fixated on their planet, slowly spinning before them on the horizon.

“Is it weird that this is freaking me out more than the guy who had teeth stuck in his face?” Ryan asked.

“What’s wrong fam?” The Doctor asked, walking over to them.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” O said in Ana’s ear, whose gaze dropped away from Earth to focus on the grey dust beneath her feet.

“That’s our planet,” Ryan said, pointing at it.

“Yeah,” The Doctor said, a little dumbfounded.

“I’m looking at our planet,” Ryan continued

“You’ve been off-world before, guys.”

“I know, Doc. But it’s one thing being off your planet and another seeing your planet, while you’re stood on the Moon, which you’ve only ever seen in the sky and never thought you’d live to visit.” Graham explained.

“This is so freaky.” Ryan agreed.

“Amazing though,” Yaz added, noticing the Doctor’s crestfallen expression.

“Oh, right. Totally amazing.” Ryan said, trying to match Yaz’s enthusiasm.

“Ana?”

“Awesome.” She replied hollowly, dragging her eyes from the dust to the Doctor to give a half-hearted smile.

“So you all want to go to the theme park?” The Doctor grinned.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Yaz enthused.

“Great!” The Doctor exclaimed. Leading the way, the fam quickly followed after her. Ana and O stayed where they were.

He lightly took her hand to draw her attention to him. When that didn’t work, he squeezed it hard.

She startled but, instead of pulling free, she clenched his hand back. “Huh?”

“You okay?”

“Oh, sure. Just taking in the view.”

“By looking at the ground?” He laughed.

“We’re on the moon.” Ana said, giving him an incredulous smile. She dug the toe of her shoe into the ground and watched the dust move. The grey dust she had only ever seen in the grainy footage of the moon landings. “The moon. Do you not find that weird?”

“You realise we were all just nearly burnt as witches in 1612, right?”

“You really don’t find this bizarre? I thought everyone had a thing about the moon?”

“What thing?” O asked curiously.

Ana checked on the fam, not wanting to lose them.

“It’s fine. We’ll catch up.” O encouraged, noticing her distraction. “What about the moon?”

“You can get so caught up in life, the things happening all around you. But the moon. You look up and see it in the sky and it puts everything into perspective.”

“What perspective?” He pushed, moving closer to her side.

“That we’re just one planet, spinning around one sun, in one solar system, in one galaxy. In the incomprehensible size of the universe, it’s nothing. You can forget that when you’re walking around thinking about yourself, but when everything’s quiet, you look up, you see the moon and you remember. And now I’m standing on it. Because I got brought here by an alien who can travel through time and space.” Ana giggled. O matched her. “And now we’re going to ride on a roller coaster. On the moon. This is so weird.”

“Come on.” He said, tugging her towards the entrance. “Let’s see who vomits first.”

“Graham,” Ana predicted. “You know he’ll eat before he goes on any of the rides.”

“True.” O sighed. Graham never failed to remind them all of his stomach’s needs. “Have you decided where you want to go when it’s your turn?”

“Well I enjoy visiting new planets, but since I don’t know any of them until the Doctor takes me there, how can I ask?”

“She can suggest one.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

The Doctor had procured them all passes and their wristbands were waiting for them at the entrance hut. Putting them on, they looked for the fam.

“Over there.”

As predicted Graham was getting something which looked like orange candy floss, that Ryan was cautiously pulling a piece from.

“It tastes like pineapple,” Graham told them when they arrived.

“It tastes like pizza to me,” Ryan argued.

Ana plucked off a piece. “More like strawberries.”

Graham offered O a piece, but he declined, asking: “Where’s Yaz and the Doctor?”

“They went on the first ride they saw,” Ryan said, pointing at a ride that was spinning, free of any support, mid-air at an alarming speed.

“Huh, maybe Yaz will barf first,” Ana muttered to herself.

They waited by the food stand until they all regrouped, then they moved to queue for the main rollercoaster which looked terrifying. Ana couldn’t wait. Graham looked green.

Yaz bumped Ana’s arm to get her attention and beckoned her towards the back of the group where they were less likely to be overheard. “What’s going on with you and O?” She teased.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been holding hands most of the time we’ve been here.” Yaz pointed out.

“I was having a bit of an out-of-body experience when we landed,” Ana shrugged, “he was just making sure I didn’t wander off and get lost.”

“Mmm, if you say so,” Yaz said with a cheeky smile.

“What?”

“I think someone has a crush.” Was all she said in response, as they were the next group to be ushered onto the ride.

_______________________________________________________________

They all asked the Doctor to let them rest before their next journey, which she agreed to as Graham was still looking peaky around the gills.

The TARDIS had given O a room next to Ana’s and, once again, she marvelled that while the rest of them immediately fell on their beds in an exhausted heap, O was settling down to work. She could hear him through the wall, gathering papers and typing on his computer. There were times she wondered if he ever slept. He seemed to be awake whenever she was.

She found the distant sound of him pottering about his room relaxing and dropped asleep in minutes.

When they all regrouped the next morning the Doctor tried to ask O where he wanted to go, but he immediately deferred to Ana.

“Oh, no, that’s okay.” She said. “You go first.”

“Please.” He insisted. “You said you wanted to go to a new planet, right?”

“I do.” Ana intoned, still dubious about going before O when the Doctor had clearly wanted him to choose. It also didn’t help that O’s offer had left Yaz wearing a wide smirk. “Can you suggest somewhere?”

“Sure. I have somewhere I’m sure you’ll love.” The Doctor said, her enthusiasm unfailing. “Emara.”

O frowned, but Ana didn’t notice.

“It has five suns in its solar system so the entire planet is permanently bathed in sun. Ninety per cent of the planet is water, which is always warm,” she described, programming in their destination at the console, “and in the centre is a luscious island, bordered with pink beaches. It has a huge rainforest in the mainland. Home to the Eocrar, a tree which has blossoms shaped like hearts. There’s a rumour that one day a year they secrete powerful aphrodisiacs capable of making people fall in love with each other for the rest of their lives, but there’s no scientific evidence to back that up. How’s that sound?”

“Great. As long as we stick to the beaches.” Ana amended under her breath, glancing at Yaz whose expression had grown increasingly mischievous.

“I’d better go find some swimming trunks,” Graham said, clapping his hands together. “Wonder if the wardrobe has a snorkel.”

Ryan groaned at the thought of his granddad embarrassing him. “I’m not walking around with you if you’re wearing a snorkel and goggles.”

“Maybe there’s a spade and bucket too. We can build a sandcastle.” Graham continued cheerfully.

They all retreated to the wardrobe as none of them had thought to bring beachwear when they’d packed for their latest expedition in the TARDIS. The girls separated from the boys, heading up the spiral staircase to see what they could find.

“There are some sunglasses here,” Ana said, selecting a rose coloured frame and sliding them on. “What do you think?”

She turned to find Yaz dangling a red bikini from the end of her finger. “Would go well with this? I bet O’s eyes would fall out his head if you wore it to the beach.”

“That’s not the only thing I’d be worried about falling out.” Ana dismissed wryly. “Is there much more to choose from?”

“Yeah, a whole draw full,” Yaz said, picking out a floral patterned tankini for herself. “It’ll be nice lounging on a beach. More relaxing than that theme park. Good choice.”

“Thanks.” She accepted although it hadn’t really been her choice. Still, she was glad it would give everyone else a chance to relax – they’d probably need it before things went back to normal and the Doctor put them all into a life-or-death situation again. Sadly, that sounded more interesting to Ana than lounging on a beach, but she was sure if she said that aloud they’d all think she was psychotic.

A purple one-piece went under her shorts and t-shirt and she managed to find some flip flops to go with the beachy look.

Graham was the last to emerge, his arms loaded with beach necessities, including a large beach ball, a folded windbreak and a parasol. “Wasn’t able to find any sunscreen though.”

“I’ve got some in my room, hang on,” Yaz said, jogging off. “Meet you outside.” She yelled back at them as she went.

Ana offered to take some things from Graham and O hurried to do the same, wanting to appear to be helpful.

“I’m going to go to the rainforest if anyone else is interested in a hike?” The Doctor offered as they entered the console room.

“No thanks, Doc. I think I’ll find a quiet stretch on the beach and relax for a while. Maybe get a drink – do you think they have cocktail umbrellas here?”

“I’ll go with him,” Ryan said. “Go do some swimming.”

“Okay.” The Doctor said, trying not to look disappointed at their choice to split up the group. “O? Ana? You guys up for a hike?”

“Sure,” Ana said, her enthusiasm souring as soon as she agreed; suddenly remembering the love trees. “Erm, I’ll just go change my shoes.”

“Love to.” O grinned.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” Yaz said when Ana crossed paths with her in the TARDIS corridor.

“Need to go change my shoes. The Doctor’s taking me and O into the rainforest. You’ll come too right?”

“Yeah, all right.” Yaz agreed easily, like Ana, preferring to explore. “See you in a second.”

Once they’d regrouped outside the TARDIS, the Doctor pointed Graham and Ryan towards a pleasant stretch of beach and said they’d meet them there in a few hours.

“As for us, there’s a trail just over here. Leads through part of the rainforest and up to a cliff which overlooks the Odrine ocean.”

O walked beside the Doctor, asking questions about the planet’s atmosphere, inhabitants and other life forms. His questions came so quickly it was almost like he was quizzing her. Eventually, he ran out and turned his attention to Yaz. They hadn’t talked as often as he had with Ana, so he asked about her police career. Including the incident where she met Ana.

“It was great.” Yaz praised. “I told her afterwards she should become a police officer. She had him on the ground with an arm behind his back before anyone could bat an eyeline.”

“I have too many relatives in the police force, it’d be weird.” Ana objected, reluctantly pulled into the conversation. She had been enjoying looking at the surrounding nature. The pink-tipped blossoms glowed in the soft sunlight that dappled through the forest, every one of them a classic heart shape. She was tempted to pluck one from the branches to keep as a souvenir, but it would only die if she did.

“Hmm, maybe you should join MI6 then? She’d be an excellent fit, right O?”

“Undoubtedly.” He immediately agreed.

“I already have a job,” Ana said, moving past Yaz and O to talk with the Doctor. “Hey, Doc?”

“Yes, Ana.” She replied brightly.

“What you said before about the trees…”

“Don’t worry Ana, it’s completely unsubstantiated. Besides, I’d never take you lot anywhere where you could get drugged. Who knows how alien aphrodisiacs would respond to human physiology. I can understand why the myths persist, though. It is a romantic place, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, it’s beautiful.” Ana agreed. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

“Good. I want you to enjoy yourself!” The Doctor grinned. “I’m happy to take you wherever you want to go.”

The view from the cliff was as stunning as promised. The blue ocean had a lustre to it which Ana fixated on. Yaz excitedly watched the marine life floating among the waves, asking the Doctor all about them and if they could get any closer when they went to the beach, while O returned to Ana’s side.

“Pretty?” He asked.

“Beautiful.” She replied.

“Bored?”

Ana glanced at him incredulously, not sure she heard him correctly. “What?”

“Are you bored?”

“N-no.”

The Master chuckled. “I’m not a beach person either.”

“I like the beach.” Ana protested.

“But in the scheme of any place in the entire universe you could go, a beach has got to be pretty boring right?”

She made a choking sound which vaguely came across as a protest, but O was already walking off. He turned after a few steps and beckoned her to follow.

Ana made a point of having as much fun as possible when they returned to the beach. Playing volleyball with the ridiculously oversized beach ball, eating an alien version of ice cream – which was watery and not nearly as nice as actual ice cream – swimming in the pearlescent ocean, playing with the life that dwelled there and sunning herself on the pink sand.

The Master watched her the whole time, not believing the act. He’d seen genuine excitement cross her face during the many times they had fled for their life. Ana liked a thrill, she just wasn’t ready to admit it yet.

Yaz watched O, thinking she was watching a real-time romance unfurl before her eyes. Graham and Ryan were oblivious, and the Doctor wasn’t much more use – still being somewhat socially awkward.

________________________________________________________________

Yaz waited until the Doctor was distracted with the TARDIS to ask the others if she could make her request last. She wanted to ask about the Doctor’s home world again, hoping they could visit. The Doctor didn’t seem to enjoy spending half the day at the beach though, and Yaz wanted to wait until she was in a better mood to ask. So O stepped up to go next and made his request, choosing a planet no one had heard of before. Even the Doctor seemed surprised to hear him say its name.

“Vabivis. Where did you learn about that?” She asked curiously.

“You told me about it.” O replied. “It sounded interesting. But if you’d rather we go somewhere else…”

“No, no, no. A promise is a promise.” She assured, though she lacked her usual eagerness as she made her way over to the TARDIS console.

O made his way over to Ana for the first time since they’d spoken on the cliff and joined her in grabbing hold of a railing for the flight.

“Vabivis was home to a species called the Vabivi who frequently warred with one another.” He told her conversationally. “They built elaborate kingdoms designed to best repel enemy attacks. Lots of secret passageways, booby-trapped rooms, that sort of thing. They were all eventually wiped out when they finally developed weapons of mass destruction. Killed all the Vabivi and most of their animals too. The kingdoms were so incredibly well built however that the buildings withstood everything. The planet’s turned into a memorial of sorts now. Safe to visit, although the odd visitor has died before when they accidentally triggered a booby-trap. People have been studying the place for centuries and they still haven’t mapped them all. Sometimes races try to take it over, use it as a fortress of their own. So far no one has been successful.”

“Sounds grim,” Graham observed, clutching onto a column as the TARDIS rocked sharply.

“I like military history.” O smiled back. “I am an analyst after all.”

“Spy.” Ana badly disguised in a cough, prompting the fam to laugh.

“Analyst.” O corrected habitually.

“It sounds interesting though,” Ana said. “Which kingdom do you want to see?”

“Vrots. The victorious kingdom.”

“Didn’t you just say they were all dead?”

“Yes. They still technically won.”

“Wiping out your entire species doesn’t exactly sound like a win,” Yaz commented.

“We’re here.” The Doctor said, her lips pursed into a thin line. “Not too long, okay? Ryan and Yaz are still due a turn.”

“Just a quick tour,” O promised, pulling Ana’s hand from the rails and yanking her towards the door.

“There’s this balcony,” he told her as they hastened from the TARDIS, “from which you’re meant to see two of the other kingdoms on a clear day. Looks like we’re lucky.”

As he guided her, Ana glanced around at the colossal kingdom, every building made from incredibly thick stone walls, each one a smooth, polished black. If they were on Earth, she would guess they were made of granite, gleaming under the sun that burned in the clear sky. The Vrots had designed the streets – made of a slightly rougher but equally dark mineral – to be difficult to navigate, twisting around, often leading to dead-ends, coming out at unexpected parts of the kingdom, tapering into tiny mouths which then emerged onto large plazas. The black stone which made up every building in the kingdom made the experience even more disorientating. O seemed to know exactly where he was going though.

“You seem to know this place very well,” Ana said. “Has the Doctor brought you here before?”

“Promise you won’t tell the others?” O asked, still guiding her through the kingdom like he’d been there a thousand times before.

“No?”

“Not very convincing, Ana.”

“No.” She drawled.

“The Doctor gave me a book from one of the gift shops here.” O laughed. “Don’t feel too jealous about it.”

“What?”

“Couple of years ago, thought I’d find it interesting. I think he also wanted to give me some perspective about the destructiveness species are capable of. I think they worry about me sometimes, working for secret services and all.” O said, a little less amused.

“Did you just say he?” Ana asked, distracted from the point as O had intended.

He explained as they walked, answering any questions Ana had about the planet too.

“Wow, how many times have you read this book?”

“I have an excellent memory.” O boasted, finally bringing them up to the main castle of the Vrots’ kingdom.

“Are we allowed in here?”

As O had said, there had been tourists on the planet – looking inside the empty homes, abandoned shops and overgrown parks. Amazingly, none of the buildings looked derelict, they were exceptionally well built. Nature had taken over however, that was clear. Vines grew along the streets, making them even more treacherous to navigate. Long grasses bloomed everywhere, weeds shooting up in the drains. It was stunning. It was haunting.

Around the castle, the streets were deserted. Vines were growing over the main doorway which snapped under the unexpected movement of their resting place and spiralled to the floor in clumps, throwing up dust in the air and making her cough. When O finally pushed his way inside, everything looked undisturbed.

“Of course we are. Come on.” O encouraged, guiding her up the main staircase, across to a smaller staircase, then to a spiral staircase that went up one of the towers. They finally emerged on a jet black balcony. Ana was grateful of the vines this time, without them she was sure she’d slip on the smooth surface of the rock.

“Will you look at that.” O breathed, dropping her hand to walk over to the balcony’s edge. Planting his hands on the low stone wall, he pushed himself forward and breathed in the destruction which could be seen for miles. Slowly, Ana followed him.

There had been a large forest between the three kingdoms, each made up of the impenetrable, dark stone. The other two were slightly smaller but no less daunting in her eyes. While the buildings stood tall, the forest had been decimated, stubs of trees were all that remained, having crystallised under the heatwave of whatever bomb had been used to wipe out life in that area.

“Those two kingdoms,” O pointed them out, “were the Vrots’ biggest competitors. While the Vrots’ had the advantage over their species once they developed their latest weapon, the other kingdoms were confident in their safety – knowing their proximity was their advantage. The Vrots’ couldn’t drop the bomb on them without obliterating themselves. They underestimated their determination for victory.”

“This place is amazing,” Ana said to O, envious of his destination compared to her beach holiday. She felt like a classic adventurer, delving into long-buried places, forgotten by the universe. Despite what O said, she was certain other people hadn’t come in the castle before, and the thought of being the first in thousands of years thrilled her. “I mean creepy but amazing. You made a wonderful choice coming here.”

“I can’t say I ever thought about coming here in person, it didn’t seem like somewhere the Doctor would take us.” O said. “But when she offered to take us anywhere, and we started talking about the places we’d all want to go, well I thought it sounded like somewhere you’d actually enjoy. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you seemed bored on Emara.”

“I wasn’t bored… wait a minute.” She looked at him so quickly she nearly gave herself whiplash. “O. This is meant to be about where you want to go! Who knows how many chances we’ll have to choose somewhere?”

He shrugged casually. “You know me. If it’s alien, I enjoy it.”

Looking at him disbelievingly, she continued to protest. “Still, it doesn’t seem fair. We all only got one choice.”

“Plenty of more places we’ll be going, Ana.” The Master said, his decision already made. “This is only the beginning, isn’t it?”

After a moment she nodded, giving him a soft smile as they both stood over the destroyed remains of Vabivis, observing the planet’s struggles to repair the damage its inhabitants had wrought. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is.”

The last story Daviron may be my least popular work so far, but I enjoy writing this too much to stop 😂 if only I could bring myself to write in the second person, Master/Reader is so much more popular!

Oh and @wonders-of-the-multiverse, you said you wanted to know if I posted anything!

#doctor who #the master #dhawan!master #dhawan!master x original female character #world building #so much world building #the moon #amoral character #master still pretending to be o #dhawan!master x reader #why can't I write in second person

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