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whydoyouwantmyname · 3 years

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Imagine being Sirus’s daughter

-You were born in the year 1978, your mother was a muggle who Sirius met at a punk rock concert, and they had dated for a few months before deciding they were better off parting way as soon as he revealed he was a wizard.

-When she gave birth to you, Sirius hadn’t even known she was pregnant, and she didn’t tell him until you were 6 months old, when she went to his flat and frantically knocked on the door.

“Olivia, it’s six o’clock in the fucking morning, why are you...” and then he noticed the baby carrier

“She is one of you Sirius, she made...” her voice loud with frustration as she hushed it, “she made all of her toy fly at me when I told her it was nap time, she once cried and all the lights blew. Sirius I can not have this thing live in my house.”

“Clearly not if you are calling her a thing.” He snapped before snatching the carrier out of her hand, “I suggest you sell all her baby things, I don’t want her having a single reminder of you in her life.”

-He slammed the door in her face, and quickly placed you on the sofa, and just stared at you, for an hour. Internationally he was freaking out, he was 18, Fresh out of Hogwarts, and had zero idea how to parent a child. So he did the only thing that made rational sense, and picked up the phone.

“Hey mom, I have to tell ya something....yes I know it is early, but I just couldn’t wait to tell you....No, no I am not in jail again, however you might wanna sit down for this one..... you’re a grandma.”

-The phone was silent, and next thing he knew his fireplace lit up green, and out stepped Euphemia Potter, who was still dressed in her night gown, her eyes wide as she looked at her son’s best friend, and then noticed the small child asleep in her carrier. “She’s beautiful.”

“Mom I have zero idea how to even...”

“Trust me Padfoot,” the name slipped so comfortably out of her mouth as he looked at her with panic, “None of us do. We just do it, and pray that we don’t accidentally hex them.”

-That morning Euphemia spent teaching Sirius all about how to care for a baby, but quickly learned his new delima, “Do you have anything for her?”

“No, her mother just dropped her off this morning, I didn’t even know...”

“Did she tell you her name at least?”

“No.”

“Well, how about [Y/N]? That’s what I would have named James if he was a girl.”

“[Y/N] Euphemia Black, I like it.” He smiled, looking over at a surprised Euphemia, “What? I always hear that it was a muggle tradition to give your daughter’s your mother’s middle name.”

-After that she took you and Sirius out to a muggle baby store, and the grocery store, and bought you everything you could ever need. The whole time you were with the two, you never cried, you just stared at them with your [Y/C/E]’s and played with the small rattle Euphemia bought you. Once you returned to the flat, she flicked her wand and you watched in wonder in her arms as all the furniture started to assemble itself, while your father put all the baby food and bottles away. Soon he was putting the clothes she had bought you on the hangers, while Euphemia rocked you to sleep, your eyelids heavy as she looked down at your smooth face. Her trance was broken though by Sirius’s soft voice, “How do I know I wouldn’t turn out like her?”

“Because you would never allow yourself to. I know your mother was a vile woman, who had no regard for her children, but you Sirius Black, are the greatest thing she ever created. Besides you are an amazing friend to James, and I can only imagine you will treat this little girl as well as you do my son.” She stated before slowly raising and removing the maroon and gold sweater from his fingers, and hung it up for him. “Now, I am sure Lily is already at the house frantically worrying about this wedding that’s in a few days, so I will give this precious angel to her daddy, and call you tomorrow?”

“Of course, give them all my love.” Sirius smiled as she gently placed you into his arms, before looking to him, “You will do amazing things [Y/N], I just know it.”

-For the next week Sirius didn’t allow anyone into his flat, he just wanted to spend that time admiring your features, and learning how to be the fun dad. However after 7 days there was a pounding on his door, and behind it stood a tall, lean man, with shaggy brown hair, and glasses. In his arms were neatly wrapped boxes, and a stag plushie sat on the top.

“Really, you couldn’t have bought her a dog one after her father?” Sirius joked as James smiled, his voice filled with joy as he replied, “Never.”

-The moment you saw James, you immediately smiled, and crawled over to his feet as quickly as you could, your hands grasping at his pants as he sat the boxes down on the kitchen counter. “So you must be [Y/N]?” All he got as a reply was a giggle, and soon you were up in his arms.

-That afternoon you spent attached to James, and while him and Sirius talked, he would slowly dance around the flat with you, or throw you in the air, which also caused you to release a loud giggle. Sirius’s stress would rise quickly when he did, but once you were safely back in his hand, James would look at his friend and smile, “Don’t worry Pads, I won’t hurt our little princess.”

-Soon there was more knocking at the door, and behind it was Remus, and Peter. The man of the house quickly enveloped his friends into a hug, and opened the door wider to reveal James holding you upside down, as giggles filled the air. Quickly he lifted back to the vertical position and spun you around quickly, until you leaned into his shoulder. When he stopped Remus looked to Sirius, “Clearly we know who her favorite uncle is going to be.”

“Bullshit Mooney, she is going to love you all the same.” Sirius reassured as James stroked your back, “[Y/N], ready to meet your other uncles?”

-You immediately leaned out of James arms and right into Remus’s chest, your hands going to his face as you patted it quickly. However soon your fingers were tracing the light scars on the man’s face, your touches were delicate as you lightly brushed his warm skin. Remus tensed slightly under your touch, almost scared that you would cry within seconds, however you quickly placed your head onto his shoulder, and cuddled into him, causing Sirius to smile, “Told ya.”

-Peter was terrified to touch you, he preferred to just watch you interact with the others, and when you tried to climb up onto his lap, he stiffened. You immediately started to tear up, causing James to quickly scoop you up.

-That afternoon you napped on Remus’s shoulder.

-James and Remus both volunteered to change you, Peter was too timid to even try.

-Later that evening there was one last knock, James jumped up immediately and reached out to Sirius for you, a smile on his face as he said to you, “Alright [Y/N], now you are going to meet one of the most important woman in my life, but don’t worry, it doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

-When Lily saw you, her hands went to her face, as she silently freaked out, “Merlin, she is beautiful Padfoot.”

“Not as beautiful as her Auntie Lily.” James replied as you leaned forward and allowed Lily to hold you. She quickly cuddled you into her chest and smiled.

-As soon as Lily arrived you refused to leave her, not even James, who you were previously attached to could take you away from her, if they tried your eyes immediately watered.

-James pouted a bit about that, but Lily just chuckled and stated, “Don’t worry Love, I am sure she still loves you.”

-That night you fell asleep in Lily’s arms, and soon she was softly walking towards your nursery to put you to sleep. She smiled though at the sight of the stag plushie, and made a mental note to pick up one to represent the other boys.

-When she returned to the parlor, she smiled at the sight of the four young men, who were currently gushing over the small infant who was sleeping.

-That night when it was just James, Lily, and Sirius, he asked them if they would be your godparents. They agreed.

-The next day Lily arrived to the flat and handed Sirius a wolf, a rat, and a black dog plushie for you, and then she sat on his couch with a cup of tea, as they discussed life, your small body seated upon Sirius’s lap as you chug to your black dog plush.

-Whenever Lily saw a cute child’s outfit she would pick it up for you.

-Remus was famous for buying you books

-Peter often bought you random trinkets

-James always bought you toys.

-On full moons, Lily would babysit you, which you enjoyed, especially once you were older. She normally would play disney movies, and read to you 100 stories. She was always ready to play dress up, or paint with you.

-On nights where the order would met Euphemia and Fleamont would watch you, at their own estate. You enjoyed going to the Potter’s, and would crawl or toddle to each different room on the bottom floor. You also had a habit of falling asleep in the parlor with the pair, Fleamont normally was reading to you out of one of his many book, while Euphemia held you, her fingers tracing through your hair.

-Once they were done either meeting or fighting, Sirius, James, and Lily would drag themselves into the manor, and head to the parlor, where they would smile almost immediately at the sight of the small girl asleep on the couch.

-Sometimes when you would cry, Sirius would transform into the dog form, to which you would stop crying immediately and cuddle into the raven color, soft, fur.

-Your first word was Dadda, quickly followed by “Pong” which you would yell often at James.

-You knew all of your uncles by their Nick names, and sometimes they would find themselves calling each other the names you had assigned. James was Pong, Remus was Ooney, and Peter was Ermtail. You called Lily, Elily

-You were the flower girl in James and Lily’s wedding, they had you sit in a wagon, which was bewitched to move down the aisle, and once it stopped at the end, Sirius went to scoop you up, and held you beside James and Remus.

-When James turned to Sirius to get Lily’s wedding band, you were the one holding it out to him, with a smile he plucked the small golden band from your little hand and whispered, “Thank you darling.”

-At the reception each of the marauders danced with you, even Peter, however he only danced half the song with you, before passing you off to Lily. Remus walked up beside the timid man and clapped his shoulder, “Don’t worry Wormtail, you won’t break her.”

-Albus and Minerva were obsessed with you, each one taking time to hold you and shower you in attention. Minerva looked at Sirius at one point and whispered, “I can already tell this girl is going to be a handful, just like her father.”

“I hope so Professor.” He joked as she carefully handed you back.

-Lily and James both danced with you together, and some of your favorite pictures were taken that night, as James and Lily spun you around, or swayed together with you on your uncle’s hip.

-Your father and you were the last ones on the dance floor, his breath smelled slightly of fire whiskey, and your eyes were heavy, but that didn’t stop your father from holding you close to his chest, your head resting on his shoulder, as he softly swayed you.

-That night when you arrived back to the flat, he carefully placed you down onto the changing table and quietly changed you out of the dress you had surprisingly worn the whole day, and into a pair of Jammies that Euphemia had gotten you. As he placed you into the crib, he couldn’t help but notice how much you had changed in such a short time. He spent the rest of the night sitting in your room, watching you sleep as he pondered the thoughts of his current life.

-For your first birthday, they had a small gathering at Jame’s and Lily’s flat, Lily had spent the whole day before decorating and cooking, while James attempted to help. However as your Uncle Remus would later tell you once you were older, all your Uncle James did was eat the cupcakes Lily had been making, which resulted in her sending James to Sirius’s flat, where he sat with the Marauders, joking and drinking while you were left in Lily’s care. (Who had picked you up when she dropped of James)

-When you arrived your attention was stolen by all the decorations, which were all natural colored, but had a bit of sparkle to them. Your father however was taken by the food spread that Lily had made, “Goodness Lily, are you feeding an army?”

“Have you seen the way you four eat Pads? You basically are an army.” She sassed as she extended her arms towards you, “Besides, I will spare no expense for this little bundle of joy.”

-When Remus arrived you were on the floor with your father and James. However at the sight of Remus, you pushed yourself up from the floor, and wandered towards your uncle, however after three steps your balance caused you to fall, and look up towards Remus with tears in your eyes at the fact that you had failed. Sirius staring at you in wonder as Remus scooped you up.

-Those were your first steps.

-Lily had made you your own little, jam filled, smash cake, it was completely covered in green frosting and on the top of it sat a tree, which she had purchased completely made of chocolate. In different tones blue frosting she had made a small pond, and within the smears of blue she wrote upon it Happy Birthday Darling in red frosting. Meanwhile all the adults got to eat the cupcakes, which she had filled with raspberry jam. Sirius couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked towards James, “Your future children are going to be so spoiled.”

-Later that night when it was just James, Sirius and Lily, they told him Lily was pregnant, and that they were going to tell his parents the next day. They also revealed that they wanted to name Sirius The Godfather. “We figured we would return the favor.” James joked as he looked down towards your small frame, the brand new teddy bear tucked your your face as you sucked your thumb in your sleep.

-That night you and Sirius had a sleepover with the Potters, and when you awoke that morning James and Lily were already gone. This left Sirius to gather all of your presents and hurry home with them, after feeding you some eggs, and apple juice.

-That night while you sat on your father’s lap, there was a knock upon the door. Cautiously Sirius put you down in your crib and advanced towards the door, wand drawn. When he looked into the peephole he saw the back of his best friend, upon opening the door, he saw the red rimming of his eyes, clear evidence of his sorrow. Without saying a word to Sirius he just walked past him, and straight into the nursery, where you giggled with excitement to see your Uncle. His lips forced themselves into a smile as he leaned in and picked you up, his feet dragging as he flopped into the rocking chair and held you. Normally you would have been squirming, wanting nothing more than to play with him, but you knew he just needed your stillness.

-It took Lily an hour to call Sirius’s, “Is he there?”

“Yes, he has just been sitting with [Y/N], not saying a word...”

“He hasn’t told you?” Lily cut him off

“Told me what? Did something happen to the...”

“No, no baby Potter is fine. But Sirius... I am so sorry. Euphemia and Fleamont caught Dragon Pox’s. When we went to the house they weren’t there, the neighbors had said they saw an ambulance, so we rushed to Saint Mungo’s. By the time we arrived....” her voice slightly broke but that was all Sirius needed, “Mum’s dead, isn’t she?”

“Sirius, I am so sorry. Dad’s not doing well either, they estimate he has maybe a week.”

-With that the phone dropped, and his feet took him to his friend, fresh tears covered both their faces as he gently wrapped James in a hug. None of you moved for what felt like forever.

“Can I stay here tonight?” James finally whispered, his voice hoarse, as Sirius muttered, “Of course, as long as you like.”

-Fleamont passed away two days later.

-When James and Lily introduced you to Harry, you were obsessed. You wanted nothing more than to always be near the small bundle.

-The Marauders loved having two babies to spoil now. However Peter was still extremely timid around you both.

- There was only once where you were jealous of Harry, but that was just because James was holding him, and not paying attention to you lightly tapping his leg. You just sat down at his feet, and silently started tearing up, which Lily immediately noticed. This caused her to quickly advance towards James and removed Harry from his arms, James had a look of confusion, until he heard your small sniffle. Quickly he scooped you up, and apologized.

-You loved trying to help Lily with Harry. However sometimes you were too helpful, but Lily never scolded you, just corrected the behavior.

-There was one night where she was left to watch you and Harry while the order handled some affairs. You hadnt spent a night there since they had moved to Godric Hollow. She awoke to hear muffled whimpers from her son’s room, and quickly rose to collect her house coat and check on him. Upon passing your room she hadn’t noticed that your door was open, so when she opened Harry’s she was surprised to see that you had climbed into Harry’s crib, and were softly singing a nursery rhyme Euphemia had taught you to him. His eyes growing heavy as you looked towards Lily, “He was sad, now he’s better.”

“I’m sorry Love, did his crying wake you?” She whispered as she carefully lifted you out of the crib with the sleeping boy, as you gently nodded your head, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh there is nothing to be sorry about, I just wish I had the camera out to record that precious moment. How about next time though, you come get me?”

“Deal.” You smiled as she placed you back into the bed, and tucked you in.

-The next morning she told the others what you had done, and joked with Sirius, “You know she’s going to make a fine older sister someday.”

“My darling Lily, that would require me setting down, and that is not happening any time soon.” He teased back as you lifted your arms with pride, a clear plate infront of you as you giggled, “Done!”

“Splendid, now thank Auntie Lily for the pancakes, and say goodbye to everyone.” Sirius smiled as you did as instructed, and gave everyone, except Peter, a syrupy kiss on the cheek.

- the day after Sirius did missions for the order he normally wanted nothing more then to spend the day with you, in the flat. Normally you would both do arts and crafts, or he would watch what muggles called VHS tapes. You guys also spent the day eating snack foods, your favorite being Orange Maids, your father’s was chocolate.

-When Harry turned 1, you were excitingly running around the house, Harry crawling after you as the three adults sat on the couch, whispering amongst themselves. You had no idea how the conversation they were having would change your life forever.

-You once asked why Uncle Ooney never came to the flat anymore, to which your dad just told you Moony was sick. You had no idea that they ever suspected him of being a spy.

-The first time you saw Peter in the house at Godric Hollow you felt like something was off, and avoided him more than normal.

-It was two months later, you hadn’t known yet that this would be the last day you saw Auntie Lily, and Uncle Prong. Your father was extremely cautious to make sure you weren’t followed, and carefully snuck into the house. When you were placed onto the ground you took off running through the house, wanting so badly to show off your costume. The whole house was decorated, candles were lit everywhere, and streamers dangled from the living room ceiling. When you entered the kitchen however the counter was lined with food, and Harry sat in a high chair at the table, a tired James sitting beside him, as Lily stood at the stove.

“Uncle Prong, look at my costume!” You instructed, as he looked away from the Cheerios that littered the tray, and smiled at your outfit.

“Wow, we’re identical.” He gasped as you raced over and gave him a hug, Sirius stood in the doorway as Lily looked at the two of you, turning her head slightly she whispered, “Was this her idea, or yours?”

“She told me she wanted to go as Uncle Prong, figured it won’t be too hard to pull off.”

-That night you all stayed in, Lily was playing a muggle show on the tele, while you all sat on the couch eating candy. As your eyes grew heavy, Sirius looked down toward you, and whispered to his friends, “We best be on our way.”

“Oh come now, you only just arrived 5 hours ago, why don’t you two spend the night and in the morning...”

“I would love too, but I unfortunately have to get this little one home, would hate to have her dressed like your ugly mug two days in a row.” Sirius joked as James pretended to be offended.

-You sleepily gave both James and Lily a hug, unfortunately Harry was already asleep in his room so you were unable to say goodbye to the small baby that had been dressed up as a Lion that year.

“I love you.” You softly whispered to them during both of their hugs, they tightened their grip in response and replied back.

James: I love you to the moon and back my dear.

Lily: I love you too my little Prong.

-As soon as you got home, you fell asleep in your costume, Sirius didn’t have the heart to wake you up to change so he just closed your door and let you be

-when you awoke, it was to your father’s screams, and the slamming of the door. When you crawled out of bed, you saw the man your father called Albus, standing in your living room. He lowered his head, and sank to the floor, his eyes watery with tears as his soft weeps overtook him. They only paused however when he felt your soft touch. It was then Dumbledore looked to you, and whispered, “Do you want to go see your Uncle Remus?”

-When Dumbledore arrived to the cottage in the woods Remus had, he softly knocked. Your small frame in his arms, as Remus opened the door. “Remus.” His voice was soft, “The worst has happened.”

-When Dumbledore left, Remus was sitting on the couch, his eyes glassy as he looked towards you, the child of a man he had been convinced to be a traitor. But he knew Sirius, he knew Sirius would never betray his friends, yet.... here you were, no one had any idea where your father was, or how Voldemort died. But he did know one thing, he needed to take care of you while Sirius was away.

-Two days later you saw your father again.... on the front of the Daily Prophet, you would learn later in life he had went away for murdering Peter Pettigrew, the man who really betrayed his friends. But no one would ever know.

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

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sirisuorionblack · 3 years

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Hello 👋 I was wondering if you could write about Remus Lupin bitting one of Harry’s friends, and they’re relatively alright with it but lovely Remus hates himself for it- a bit of angst but with happy ending?

Family

Remus Lupin x Sirius Black

Summary - The marauders are back at Hogwarts at the age of 34 for yet another adventurous night after years but this time it didn't end rather well but Remus had his family.

A/N Okie so this was a wonderful idea and I just had to write it and I might have tweaked my request status a bit. But, anyway, a few things before you start, everybody is alive, no voldy, no nothing. And since you didn’t specify which one of Harry’s friends, I naturally went for Ron to add in the drama. Also, this happens in their third year and Remus and Sirius are well, married, sorry if it isn't a pairing you are comfortable with. And this may be a bit rushed, idk but I loved it tbh.

Remus ran his fingers over the scars on his knuckles. Remus was gifted with such a beautiful life, his friends and family so close to him, leading a life filled with love and happiness, the sound of innocent laughter always echoing in his ears no matter what.

Over the years, he and his best friends had grown from adventurous teens to adventurous adults, still spending every full moon like a tightly-knit pack, running into the woods and barking in their animal forms. They had never grown out of it and Remus was more than grateful for it. It was truly a wonder, regardless of how much they had grown, married and having kids of their own, never spared a thought if any other was in need of help.

Thirty-four. It was bewildering how he managed to pass twenty-seven years tuning into a full-on beast with insane thoughts and no memory of his human self, only noticing the stag, dog and the rat that managed to keep him accompanied no matter what. He pitied the wolf at times, he would never have the chance to know what love is, never understand how people care about others and would protect their loved ones.

Remus knew what love is, Sirius taught him that like his life depended on it. Remus shivered every time he thought about this. They were no longer the playful and traumatized teens, they were adults with responsibilities now and it was terrifying. But Remus found comfort in the very aspect of it, teaching and just as his friends insisted he did become the Defence Against Dark Arts professor and he more than just loved it.

And now after years, they were back in the shrieking shack for the next full moon, this time, honestly dreading it. Remus suspected that Harry and his friends were rather curious about their shenanigans in the shrieking shack. Harry, of course, knew that Remus was a werewolf he had known it ever since he was realised, his father, Moony, Padfoot and Wormtail would go missing for hours and then his mother would be with Uncle Moony, treating all the new scars that Harry was told is a sign of bravery from a young age by his godfather.

For some odd reason, Dumbledore had requested that Harry must not know was that it was his very own Uncle Moony spending his night away in the shrieking shack for which Sirius had reasoned was solely for the drama it ensued.

“Moony, stop fretting,” James said, patting him on the shoulder and pulling him away from the window sill he was standing before, “It is Harry we are talking about, I think he would be rather cautious,”

“That’s the stupidest things you have ever told in your whole life, Prongs,” Sirius commented, smirking and looking out of the window, to see when the full moon rises.

“Hey!” James glared at him, “I mean, yes, he could be a curious little shit but he is…good,”

“This is not about if he is good or not, James,” Remus snapped. He took a deep breath and sat on a chair that had been placed near the wall, away from the three of them.

“Right, sorry,” James said, looking at him apologetically and remained silent giving Remus an opportunity to continue, “Just like you said, he is a curious child and his friends almost give him a run for his money and there is so little chance to no chance that they would not be coming here to “find out“ what’s going on! And like what if I accidentally hurt someone!?”

Remus shuddered as he said those words. Contrasting how he was speaking moments ago, he looked up to see Peter, James and Sirius looking at him and he fixed his eyes to Sirius’ and he whispered, “They could die or even worse become a monster like me,”

“Moony, enough,” Sirius said, calmly, drawing the attention to himself rather than Remus, “The full moon will be in minutes, there is nothing we can do,”

“Remus,” Peter sighed, emerging from the corner he stood in, “First of all - you are not a monster. Second of all - we are here, nothing wrong is gonna happen,”

”What if something does?” Remus argued. He didn’t have to see to know that Sirius closed his eyes to calm himself down.

“Sirius, do you hear yourself!?” Remus stood up abruptly, “Your words drip with irresponsibility!”

“It’s not irresponsibility, Moony,” he said, motioning Peter to take over as he walked towards Remus, “it’s the reality. What do you think we should do, then?”

For once, Remus Lupin was out of ideas. He didn’t know what to say but he knew Sirius was right, there was almost nothing they could do other than control the wolf and every full moon they deal with would be a unique tale of itself, never certain of what could happen. It was woven with time.

“It’s time,” Peter said, grimly. Remus took a shuddering breath and fell into Sirius’ arms, who was still in his human form, unlike the stag and rat, watching their moves carefully.

Remus was right. In the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory, Harry Potter laid wide awake, staring at the ceiling, the noises in the shrieking shack and the tales about it resonating in his mind. He was confused about what might be there and curious to find out when nobody would tell him the truth although they seemed to know. And today, they would unveil it.

James was rather happy that the full moon would end in a couple of minutes but he was not allowed to stay that way when he saw the wolf stop dead in tracks, sniffing the air. They all behaved rather weirdly, sometimes hilarious, in these forms but this time, it seemed different, like the wolf had encountered something out of order.

The stag and the dog stood cautiously, ready to pounce any moment while the rat, discreetly moved in the direction of the wolf’s sight and to a bush. They could hear whispers and murmurs as the animals and humans stood still on both sides, afraid of what might show and for the first time they all saw the wolf stand so extremely still.

And then slowly, a mess of unruly, jet black hair emerged from behind the bush. The wolf took deep, rapid, breaths that almost sounded like growling, bared its fangs.

The black hair further raised until they could see the bright green eyes, behind the round glasses and the wolf noticing the presence of the human, pounced.

The dog was rather quick to act and jumped on the wolf, redirecting its path but a stag and a dog wasn’t enough for the wolf to be distracted from its meal. Hunger in the pit of the wolf’s stomach derived its senses insane.

Harry stood up to his full height, wide eyes watching the wolf push a familiar black dog away from itself and leapt forward, fangs sinking into the flesh before it blacked out, falling to the ground.

He is going to get an earful from his father.

“Careful, Mr Lupin,” Madam Pomfrey rushed to him as Remus tried to sit up and take a look around. She gently pushed him back to a sleeping position on the hospital bed. Through half-lidded eyes, he frantically murmured Sirius’ name over and over again.

“Hey, hey, calm down, love,” Sirius was at his side, holding his scarred hand. Remus held onto it tightly and asked, “What happened?”

He could see Sirius hesitating to tell him and the vague memories remaining in his head from the night was not doing him any better.

“Sirus, please tell me what happened!?” He asked, anxiety rising in the bit of his stomach, the nasty churning feeling retuning. Sirius gently pushed the strands of hair from his forehead and leaned up, pressing his lips to Remus’ forehead.

“Th-the kids-” Sirius started just for him to be interrupted as Remus sat up, abruptly. He didn’t have time to sort out his chaotically, messy feelings and the one thing in his mind was what happened to the kids.

“Moony, Moony,” Sirius hurried to calm him down that, if anything, just made Remus panic even more in his hazy state of mind. Sirius placed his hands against Remus’ shoulder, pushing him gently to sit on the edge of the bed when he tried to stand up.

“Nobody is hurt, Remus,” he said, crouching a bit to look at Remus in the eyes but sighed with a pang in his chest when he saw Remus’ eyes unfocused and roaming above his head, at the various hospital beds.

Remus gasped and his heart sunk to the bottom when he saw the bed surrounded by kids and adults. It was Ron Weasley. His teeth had sunk into the boy’s shoulder blades where he could clearly see the bandages wrapped tightly around. He couldn’t imagine the pain the poor boy would have felt.

Remus Lupin felt like a terrible monster.

Why him? Why is it always him!? Just when he thought everything would be alright when he began to let himself wallow in the joy of being back at Hogwarts. And because of him the boy, merely thirteen, would have to become a monster every month.

“You are awake,” James, who seemed to have been outside the hospital wing, rushed to him, "Oh, thank gods-”

”I told you this would happen,” Remus whispered, hoarsely, staring at the foot of the empty bed before him. His mind was racing with unwanted thoughts. He felt mad at himself, at his friends, at the kids but was immediately engulfed in a pang of even bigger guilt.

A dry sob involuntarily escaped from his lips. He couldn’t understand how Greyback did that to the kids when here he was dying with guilt. He didn’t dare think of that one terrible evening when he was just seven.

Remus struggled to take a deep breath. “Moony, look at me, please,” Sirius said and these words in Remus’ head felt like a command. He slowly raised his head to look into those mesmerising grey eyes, sparkling like they always did in the sunlight. Those grey eyes were the only ones that had the ability to calm him down in seconds yet he found it difficult at the moment to regain his normal breathing pace.

“Hey, it's alright. I am here. We all are right here,” Sirius pushed the strands of hair out of his face as Remus tugged at his own shirt, as though it would help him breathe properly.

Sirius looked at James who immediately moved to the nearest window, pushing it open. The gush of fresh, cold breeze for some reason warmed his shattered heart. Remus, although still shaking, managed to take deep breaths.

“Listen to me, alright?” Sirius said, cautiously and slowly, “Nothing is wrong, everybody is doing good - I said you to just listen, Lupin. Ron did get a few injuries but, thankfully, since it was time for you to transform back, the bite was equivalent to that of a domestic dog or something,”

Remus didn't have the ability to comprehend what he was saying and just gawked, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

Sirius smiled gently, looking at Remus’ wide, confused eyes. “Ron will not transform every month. You didn’t “ruin“ his life, which I am sure at this point you have confirmed. And Madam Pomfrey had down all the necessities so he would be alright in a couple of days,”

“Oh,” Remus breathed, chuckling lightly but happily. Ron was alright. He was alright! He wouldn't turn into a monster every month, he wouldn't have all those hideous scars, he wouldn't be weak every other day, he wouldn't seem to look way older than he actually was. He would be able to lead a peaceful childhood.

James sat next to him while Peter sat on the bed before him, “Now you might be wondering why is Molly crying buckets when her son would be alright,”

“No, I’m not James,” Remus rolled his eyes, pushing James away and shaking his head with a light smile. He discreetly wiped the tears forming in the edge of his eyes.

“Uncle Moony!” Harry yelled, and ran to his uncle. Remus tried to stand up as his nephew rushed into his arms, the boy holding onto him so tightly. Remus slowly wrapped his arms around the boy and felt Sirius stand up behind him, providing support to his weak frame.

“But you should ‘cause I have prepared an answer for it. If you are not asking me why then Padfoot go ahead,” James said and watched with a smirk as Sirius cleared his throat, and asked, “Why?”

”Thank you very much for your certainly not forced question - it is because she is a mother!” James said going jazz hands just for him to be hit with three pillows.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Moony,” Harry whispered into his uncle’s chest, feeling guilty as ever. He heard the man sigh and the arms wrapped around him grew tighter. Remus took off Harry’s askew glasses and whispered, “It’s okay to me, Haz but your mum,”

Harry giggled, burying his face into Remus’ chest, “I love you, Uncle Moony,”

“I love you too, Haz” Remus ruffled the boy’s already messy hair.

"Wait!" Peter said, jumping up and stood beside Harry, smirking, "Can we, I dunno, take points from him?"

"No! that's stupid!" James complained, shaking his head, "Gryffindor needs to win the house cup. We can ground him or something but not take away points,"

"Yes! Can I ground him, please?" Sirius asked.

"No,, absolutely not," Remus said, holding the boy closer to him, "Nobody is gonna ground the poor boy. Leave him alone,"

"Gah! You're no fun, Moony," Peter said, shaking his head in disapproval.

James, after controlling his laughter said, “Also, Harry, your mum told me to yell at you as a favour for her and she would do her job when you come home for break,”

"Uncle W," Harry said, making Peter chuckle at the nickname the boy insisted in calling him saying it was too weird calling his uncle "Wormtail", "I will steal your cheese sticks,"

"No," Peter groaned, dramatically, "Cheese sticks, my weakness,"

“But you won’t yell at me, dad,” Harry said, pulling away from Remus and putting his glasses on.

“I will,” James said, seriously.

“It is not that you won’t, Prongs,” Sirius said, from behind Remus, “It is that you cant,”

“Oh shut up,” James said, rolling his eyes.

Remus couldn’t help but allow his eyes to skip towards Ron every often and harry, of course, noticed it. “Ron is alright, Uncle Moony. He was actually saying it doesn’t hurt much anymore and he was rather bewildered why his mother was crying too. Oh! he also says you guys were so cool yesterday,”

“We know, prongslet, we are the coolest people ever to exist,” Sirius flipped his hair, dramatically. Harry laughed.

Remus took a deep breath. He would never forgive himself for what had happened, but he had his family with him and they sure would make him forget it. These wonderful people were his family.

#remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #peter pettigrew #harry potter #ron weasley #hermione granger #remus lupin x sirius black #wolfstar #remus x sirius #domestic wolfstar #wolfstar raising harry #jily #remus john lupin #sirius orion black #hogwarts #harry potter fanfiction

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nemesis-is-my-middle-name · 3 years

Text

Doubt

aaand finishing up another old wip! also thank you @cartooness for reminding me how much i love protective arthur

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The song and dance goes like this.

Arthur is snared and trapped. He sees the ghost, and panics, and tries to run, and finds for a while that he can't. Lewis pursues him slowly, patiently, letting him wear himself down. Then he escapes. Is rescued. Whatever it happens to be. That's how their routine goes.

Lewis is... frustrated. Right? That's how he should feel. He's had this little rat almost cornered so many damn times, only for him to slip away though some little crack in the trap he'd forgotten to close. That's frustrating. His ultimate goal, his death's mission, being dangled in front of him over and over and then snatched away.

So why, as he slowly advances towards the cliff contained in the basement of his mansion, does he feel like he's fighting some invisible force? Why is it harder and harder to keep his arm steady, to keep his grip tight on his shirt?

The little bastard is squirming, and at one point he grabs onto his sleeve and there's a brief flash of fire. He doesn't think too much of it until Arthur's eyes widen and he goes suddenly still, no longer even attempting to hold on.

"Lewis?" he whispers, awed and horrified in equal measure.

For some reason the name, spoken in that small voice, feels like a knife through his heart. He doesn't recoil - he's stronger than that - but he pauses.

He's... surprised. A little confused. Arthur hadn't recognized him before this? He's pausing for that.

But Arthur's reaction seems wrong. He isn't afraid because now he's receiving justice - he looks... confused, horribly so, his brow knotting and his lip starting to tremble.

"Why?" he asks, in that same broken voice that hurts to hear. "Wh- why are you doing th-this?"

...Why?

The set around them dissolves, his connection to the conjuration shattering like glass. He asked him why? Like this is surprising? He's still making that face at him, like this is some kind of terrible, earth-shattering break of character, and he wants him to stop. He wants him to shut up, but at the same time he can't bring himself to raise his arm again and actually put him down.

His grip on his shirt fails, too, and he goes tumbling to the floor, hitting soft grass a few feet below instead of the vertigo-inducing long drop into spikes that he was supposed to get. Why. He won't even run now, he's just sitting there and looking up at him, as paralyzed as Lewis feels.

Slowly, hesitantly, he rises to his feet, still staring at him almost… awestruck. Lewis thinks he should move back, but he stays frozen. Arthur’s hand raises up slowly, towards his face, shaking–

–and then his gaze snaps behind Lewis, reacting to a barely-audible noise.

The next few moments happen so fast Lewis can barely process them. Arthur’s hand closes the distance and shoves him–

…behind him? Suddenly Arthur’s in front of him, back turned to him, both arms raised slightly, and in front of them both is… Vivi’s little pet dog, it looks like.

But he feels a wave of static run across his form at the sight of it. Raw power, probably stronger than heis, contained in the little pup. Except, Lewis’s instincts tell him, it’s not a pup, and it’s certainly not little.

Arthur’s breathing has picked up even faster, so shallow it’s almost nonexistent, and he’s visibly shaking. This… this creature, it terrifies him. When it steps forward he flinches back – but he stays firmly in front of Lewis. Almost like he’s… protecting him. From… whatever this thing is.

“Arthur,” says the not-dog in a low, commanding voice, “get out of my way.”

He flinches back, but his feet stay firmly planted. “No.”

He huffs, sounding more irritated than anything. “It clearly isn’t really Lewis. Now step aside so I can get rid of it.”

Lewis bristles at that – excuse him? – but Arthur remains unmoving. His voice is so quiet it’s almost inaudible, but it’s still steeled with determination when he says, “I- I won’t let you hurt him.”

He can easily feel the aggression curling off – Mystery, that’s his name – but who it’s directed at, he isn’t exactly sure. He’s almost expecting him to leap for Arthur’s throat next, but after another moment of silent staring, he simply turns and barks, “Vivi! The wraith is back!”

Arthur flinches back again at the raised voice, and before he can stop himself Lewis puts a steadying hand on his shoulder.

Perhaps it’s simply guilt that’s driving Arthur to stay in front of him, guarding him from the magical threat. A desire not to see what he did once happen a second time. But… his instincts tell him it’s not. Of course Arthur’s protecting you, says some part of his mind, even as the other objects that he murdered him, why would he care what happened to him now?

But Arthur was surprised to see him – didn’t even understand why he was doing this – and even on the verge of panic his very first instinct at the sight of a threat was to get between him and it.

Does he not remember killing him? What’s going on?

#mystery skulls animated #MysteryMarch2021 #lewthur #the nemesis speaks #swift writes #REAL under the wire on this one whew

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bush-viper-cutie · 3 years

Text

“The Sickening Proof” || YEAR 3 – Ch.37 (HP au)

Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 1/8/2021

Word count: 3, 076

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

The next chapter will be posted either later today or early tomorrow! :D

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Snape might as well have been a terrifying shrieking shack ghost. He certainly got the right type of reaction from everyone.

Hermione let off a loud, shrill scream. Lupin jumped a foot in the air and turned. Harry went white as a sheet, though not as white as Ron. Sirius Black whirled so fast Heather thought he’d make himself puke. She just stared, dumb-founded at her Head of House for not only catching them out after hours, but outside of Hogwarts grounds after hours and outside of Hogsmeade visits. Maybe she’d be the one puking.

Snape moved slowly in a hunched crouch, inching towards Lupin as he aimed at his heart, arm fully extended and unwavering. He was a predator ready to strike and it stilled the air around them. “Thank you, Potters, for leaving the cloak behind for me. It came very useful.”

As still and calculated as Snape looked, he spoke from breaths. Heather could see it was a great struggle to contain his look of triumph, though she could still see it plainly in his eyes.

“Not expecting me, Lupin?” Snape’s eyes glittered as he continued to hold their silent attention perfectly. “You’d forgotten to take your Potion tonight, Lupin – not surprising considering how relentlessly unreliable you prove to be. And… like the responsible dog-sitter I am… I took a gobletful along with me to your office. How very lucky was I, that there, open on your desk, was a certain map.”

Snape’s eyes flickered to Harry and Heather for a second, letting them know they never had him fooled. Heather swallowed and began to shiver with fear. Surely, this was their last year attending Hogwarts… whether they made it through tonight or not.

“One glance,” Snape continued, “and I knew everything I needed to know. I saw you run along the passage and out of sight.”

Lupin licked his lips and began speaking with a quiver. “Severus – ”

“I’ve told the Headmaster again. And again,” Snape spat the words out like venom. “That you’ve been the one helping Black into the castle. And here’s the proof. If only I had guessed you’d be using this old place as your hideout – Only I never dreamed you’d have the nerve.”

“Severus, you’re making a mistake,” Lupin held his hand down and out, as if trying to physically lower Snape’s anger. “You haven’t heard it all – I can explain everything – Sirius was never going to kill Harry or Heather – ”

“I’ll be the one to call and let them know they’ll be needing TWO cells in Azkaban tonight.” Snape’s eyes gleamed fanatically. “I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this… He was quite convinced you were harmless… A tame werewolf – ”

Lupin shook his head and took a step back. “You fool…” he said softly. “Would you really put an innocent man back in Azkaban over a schoolboy grudge – ”

BANG!

Thin, green, snakelike cords shot out from the tip of Snape’s ready wand and wrapped themselves around Lupin’s head, shutting his mouth tight. More twisted themselves around Lupin’s wrists and ankles, unbalancing him and knocking him to the floor. He fell with a heavy thump and groaned.

Black growled furiously and started to lunge at Snape. Snape snapped his wrist to Black and held his wand tip right between Sirius Black’s eyes, stopping him mid motion.

“Give me a reason,” Snape whispered. “Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will.”

Heather didn’t doubt for a second that whatever it was, Snape really would do it. Nor did she doubt, that at the first chance Sirius Black saw, he’d turn into that horrible dog and rip Snape’s throat out in one quick tear. It was plainly obvious to her, that in the presence of one another, they were only both still alive by some miracle.

“Professor,” Heather whispered, trembling.

He did not take his eyes off Black. She looked around and saw Hermione pressing her hands to her mouth and turned away. Harry stood frozen, looking wide-eyed between Lupin and Snape. Ron was looking even paler and was sweating as he continued to struggle with Scabbers in his grip.

She turned back to the terrifying display of lethal hatred Snape and Black were somehow managing to rein in and remembered Professor Trelawney’s words. Tonight was the night Voldemort’s servant would return to him, and Sirius Black was the only one so far accused, no matter how much Lupin was trying to convince them of his innocence.

Hermione creaked along the floorboard to Heather, steady, so as to not make either man jump or flinch at the noise. “Professor Snape – m-maybe – it wouldn’t hurt to listen to them – to what they’re trying to explain?”

“You four are already facing certain expulsion from this school,” Snape spat. “Not only, but also currently in the presence of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your LIVES – hold, your tongues – however hard that might BE, Granger.”

“B-but i-if – if there was a mistake – ”

“SILENCE, YOU STUPID GIRL!” Sparks were sizzling out of the end of Snape’s wand as he seethed, looking very deranged. “DON’T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!”

Black did not seem to flinch at the threat of Snape’s attack, still waiting for an opening with deadly patience. Hermione fell silent and stepped back.

“Vengeance is very sweet,” Snape breathed. “I did hope I would be the one to catch you…”

Black forced a laugh that deepened Snape’s glare. “Joke’s on you again. Severus. As long as this boy takes his rat up to the castle I’ll come quietly.”

Snape’s mouth twitched up in amusement. “The castle?” he said silkily. “We won’t need to go that far… All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They’ll be so pleased. They’ve been so eager to see you, Black… I wonder how long they would hold off on giving you their long-awaited kiss… Seconds? Minutes perhaps?”

Sirius Black’s color went from grey-white to egg-white at the mention. “Severus – You’ve got to hear me out,” he croaked. “The rat – look at the rat – ”

Heather stared into Snape’s eyes, wondering to see if the man’s desperate pleas would change anything in Snape’s certainty, but all she could see was a mad glint she’d never seen in anyone before.

Snape snapped his fingers and the ends of Lupin’s serpent-y ropes flew to his hands. “Come on. All of you. I’ll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the dementors will have a kiss for him too.” His eyes flicked to Heather. “Potter. Open the door.”

Heather nodded, hoping beyond hope that this was all the prophecy working itself out correctly. She edged passed Sirius Black and put a hand on the doorknob. She looked down and twisted it, but before it could open even a centimeter, a body had rammed into her and the door had slammed shut.

She looked up at Harry with shock.

“Get out of the way, Potter. You’re in enough trouble as it is,” he snarled. “If I hadn’t been here to save your skin – ”

“But Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year! I’ve been alone with him loads of times – same with Heather. If he was working with Black, why didn’t he finish us off then?”

He had a point, maybe that truly wasn’t the intention…

“I wouldn’t fathom to understand the way a werewolf’s mind works,” Snape hissed. “Now get out of the way, Potter.”

Or maybe all Black wanted was to make sure he knew where the boy who defeated his master was. So that when he went back to Voldemort, he could tell him everything. Then Lupin wouldn’t have needed to kill them at all. He would have only needed to help Black hide until the day he needed to return…

“Harry,” Heather shoved him away hard, making him stumble back. “Sirius Black was Voldemort’s servant and he still is! Please… We’ll all just leave and go back to the castle and nothing bad will happen tonight, alright? Please?”

Harry looked at her, and back down to Lupin, up at Black, and finally back at Snape. After a moment, he took his place at the door again. “No.”

“Potter,” Snape gave a warning growl. “I will not listen to you or these – ”

“YOU’RE PATHETIC!” Harry staggered forward with the weight of his words. He meant it with all his being. “JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON’T LISTEN – ”

“QUIET! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!” Snape looked like he’d had enough of everything. The sparks started up again on the ends of his wand like a frayed wire ready to start a large uncontrollable fire. “Like father, like son, Potter! I’ve just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on hands and knees! You would have been well served if he’d killed you! You’d have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black – Now get out of my way, or I. Will. Make. You. GET OUT OF THE WAY POTTER!”

Before Heather could think she raised her wand, and at the same time as Harry yelled ‘Expelliarmus,’ she yelled “Flipendo!” right at Snape’s heaving chest, putting all of her pain and anger into the words.

Both Harry and Heather’s spells blasted out of their wands and hit Snape square in his chest, lifting him off the ground and sent him flying onto the wall with a thunderous thump. He fell onto the bed below him, making Ron dive for the floor. Snape’s wand had been blasted out of his hand and landed with a rolling click down at Harry’s feet.

Heather was at the bed in an instant, checking to see if Snape was alive. There was a trickle of blood oozing from under his hair. She gasped and pressed her hands to her mouth. She was shaking, trembling so hard she might have fallen if she wasn’t kneeling on the bed besides Snape’s still body.

Sirius Black gave a quick, victorious laugh that snapped Heather back into the moment.

“Don’t worry. He’s only knocked out.” Black glanced at Ron and back at Harry and Heather. “You two really should have left him to me…”

This was wrong. This was so horribly wrong. Snape was knocked out and Sirius Black, convicted murderer, servant of Voldemort, was free and loose. She had been so angry she had completely lost her mind after hearing him say those awful things. She wanted to hurt him, make him regret saying Harry should have died. She could care less what he’d said about their father. Harry was everything she had. And now… this night could end in her worst fear.

“We attacked a teacher…” Hermione was shaking her head furiously, staring at Snape’s body. “We – we attacked a teacher!”

Heather sniffed. She’d have run and hugged Hermione if this was any other situation. It had really only been Harry and her that attacked him.

“We’re going to be in so much trouble – !”

“We were already going to get expelled, Hermione,” Ron groaned from the floor.

Sirius Black had managed to untie Lupin and they both stood quickly.

Lupin rubbed his wrists and mouth. “Thank you, Heather, Harry.”

Heather shook her head, regretting her actions immensely.

“This doesn’t mean we believe you,” Harry replied.

“No, of course not.” Lupin nodded. “I think it’s time we show you the proof.”

Black turned to Ron. “Give me Peter. Now.”

Ron held Scabbers closer to his chest. “Come off it,” he whimpered. “Are you trying to tell us he broke out of Azkaban just to get his hands on Scabbers? That’s just… That’s mental,” he said weakly. “Peter can turn into a rat – there are millions of them! How’s he know this one is Peter if he was locked up in Azkaban!”

Lupin turned to Black with a puzzled look that made Heather’s heart stop and her stomach flip.

“How DID you find out he was here?” Lupin asked with a slight frown.

Black stared at Lupin as he extended out his hand like a claw. He bent his elbow and in one exasperated motion pulled out a wrinkled paper from an inside pocket. He smiled and handed it to Lupin, who took it and smoothed it out.

Harry inched closer and Heather followed suit, peering around Lupin’s shoulder to look down at the very same photograph Heather and Harry had seen of the Weasleys the previous summer holiday. It was a Daily Prophet clipping of Ron and his family posing to show off the vacation they had won, and Scabbers was clinging to Ron’s shoulder.

“What is it?” Ron croaked.

“Your family on vacation,” Heather whispered, stepping back.

“Mental!” Ron yelled.

“How did you come by this?” Lupin asked Black, thunderstruck.

Black gritted his teeth. “Fudge. When he came down to inspect Azkaban, he gave me his paper.” Black laughed weakly. “And there he was. Right on the front page. On this boy’s shoulder… I knew him at once… How many times had I seen him transform? And the caption… it said he was going back to Hogwarts… Back where Harry and Heather were…”

Lupin stared at Sirius black with wide-eyes and in total disbelief. Heather felt sick.

Lupin looked back at the picture and pointed. “Merlin...” He looked from the picture to Scabbers and back. “His paw.”

Black nodded.

“What about it!” Ron looked down at Scabbers.

“He’s got a tow missing,” Black said flatly.

Lupin looked at Scabbers incredulously. “Of course… So brilliant. He cut it off himself.”

“Right when I cornered him. Right before he transformed. He yelled for the whole street to hear. Before I could curse him he blew apart the street and killed everyone within twenty feet of him… and sped down the sewer with the other filthy rats.”

“Scabbers probably got in a fight with another rat!” Ron looked to Hermione, Heather, and Harry for support, but they all stayed very quiet. “He can’t be Peter, he’s been in my family for – ”

“Twelve years, isn’t that right?” Black snapped.

“Rats don’t live that long, Ron.” Lupin looked down at Scabbers. “That’s an abnormally long time for even magical rats.”

“No, we’ve just been taking good care of him!”

“He looks sick and underweight. I’m guessing he started getting like this right around the time when he heard Sirius had finally escaped.”

Ron was shaking his head. “No. No. It was that cat! That monster! He’s been scaring Scabbers ill! That mad cat!”

“He’s not mad.” Black bent down and pet Crookshanks as he purred between his legs. “He recognized him for what he was immediately. He even tried to help me. Tried to bring him to me and couldn’t. Then he tried to bring ME to him. Stole the Gryffindor passwords for me.”

Poor Neville. Heather was feeling a little less ill as everything was slowly getting clearer, to her immense and relieving surprise.

“He tried relentlessly for me. Then he said Peter faked his death – bit himself and left blood on the bed – he must have supposed if it worked once it could work again – ”

Something clicked and Heather felt like puking again. She shook her head. “He really is Peter… And he knew you’d come to finish him off – ”

“That’s why he faked his death! Why he’s been running!” Harry yelled, coming to the same conclusion Heather had just come to. “He knew you’d murder him like you murdered our parents!”

“I will murder him!” Black yelled back.

“We should have let Snape take you – ”

“Harry – ” Lupin put up his hands quickly. “All this time we’ve thought Sirius betrayed them and Peter tracked him down – But it was the other way around! Peter betrayed them, and Sirius tracked him down!”

Heather stepped forward, refusing to let Lupin continue with the lies. “No. We know Sirius was their Secret-Keeper, Peter couldn’t have betrayed them. Only HE could. Only the Secret-Keeper could betray them.”

“Precisely.” Lupin stared at her.

She blinked several times. “Peter wasn’t their Secret-Keeper…”

“I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment.” Black’s sunken eyes darkened with pained regret and he looked down as he continued. “I Persuaded them to use him as their Secret-Keeper instead of me… The night they died I had arranged to check on Peter. To make sure he was still safe. But when I got to his hiding place he wasn’t there. There wasn’t any sign of a struggle. I got scared and headed to your parent’s house right away… That’s when I saw it had been destroyed… and their bodies… I realized what Peter must have done… He betrayed them… But it’s my fault they’re dead. I as good as killed them – ” his voice caught and he turned away.

Lupin, looking down, shook his head. “Enough… Let’s really prove what happened. Ron,” he stepped over to Ron and extended his hand. “Give me that rat. I’ll force him to show himself. It won’t hurt him if he really is a rat.”

Scabbers was struggling like crazy in Ron’s grip. Ron looked down at him, and finally handed him over to Lupin. Scabbers started squeaking and squealing at the top of his tiny lungs, thrashing and twisting in Lupin’s hands.

Lupin turned to Sirius, who was back to his ferocious-looking self, teeth bared and all. “Ready, Sirius?”

Black nodded.

Lupin handed Sirius his wand. “Do the honors.”

Black snatched it from him at once. “Gladly!” He pointed the wand and a bright flash of white-blue light erupted from the tip, engulfing Scabbers’ body.

Lupin had let go and jumped away, and for a moment Scabbers was suspended mid-air and thrashing wildly. Ron yelled. And the rat hit the floor.

For a few seconds nothing happened, and then the rat started growing. It arched its spine and held his ears down. His tail began to shrink as his head and hands grew and turned from worm-pink to pale-pink. In a quick blink the rat turned into a grotesque child-sized creature and in another quick blink there was a man cowering in the very spot Scabbers had been.

Heather quickly turned and threw up under one of the farther boarded up windows, clutching her stomach and holding back her hair as she did.

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Welcome to the taglist!! :D @marvelschriss

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#harry potter #heather potter #pro snape #severus snape x oc #severus x oc #snape x oc #severus snape x reader #severus x reader #snape x reader #snape fanfic #snape fanfiction #snape fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction

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biologicalresearch · 3 years

Text

I have many thoughts about V and so I will talk about them here because drawing is hard and I’m lazy It’s mostly Act 2/3 talk because that’s when funny french bootboy shows up and the military attacks gordon but if u read i’ll kiss you /j

V meets the science team- or more specifically, Benrey- sometime in early Act 2. The only reason they don’t immediately get their shit kicked in is because Benrey insists they’re his friend despite only meeting maybe an hour ago and, through some stretch of the imagination, Coomer insists they give V a chance.

V tags along for a while, keeping a Reasonable Distance as Gordon reminds them that they’re on thin fucking ice and the Science Team absolutely obliterates the military. They seem like a pretty solid ally as the Science Team makes their way through Black Mesa, offering medical assistance and some sharp shooting.

When the Science Team sees Forzen later in Act 2, V immediately fucking books it in a similar manner to that One Rat Vine, you know the one. They remain M.I.A. until the Science Team sees Forzen again shortly after, where they are hiding behind a crate until they are picked up by their backpack by Forzen and dangled around like a sack of potatoes for a bit. They take some personal offense to “I’ve always been the only one in t- Teams... n- Nice.”, childish arguing ensues, and V books it after Forzen as soon as more members of the military show up. They get lost in the tunnels and meet back up with the science team after the whole Beyblade interrogation bit, and have to explain that they didn’t run away, they just got lost, and everything’s back on track.

Going to the surface is generally the same, everyone talks about what they’re going to do when they get out- V’s short attitude gives way for a much calmer moment where they talk about going to art school or something like that. Idk something that just seems totally opposite of their character in the moment. They fuck off to mess around in the background of the scene be trying to catch pigeons.

Act 3 Part 1 is mostly the same, V cracks some jokes and just tags along for the most part helping out the Science Team, up until the end of Part 1 when they start to learn about the tracking devices in Gordon’s suit. Things start to get tense and V starts to get anxious until they’re distracted by the Black Ops showing up, and of COURSE they’re gonna make tit jokes. I mean, the Blac Ops have huge boobs. i mean some serious honkers. a real set of badonkers. packin some dobonhonkeros. massive dohoonkabhankoloos. big old tonhongerekoogers. You know the drill.

Once they finally reach the “surface access” room, V can tell something is off, but they’re not sure what. As soon as the lights cut out and the sound of static comes across a radio, they just go “Oh, you motherfuckers.” before falling silent for the rest of the act.

They’re missing up until after the boss fight with Coomer, and Gordon is not happy to see them, fully convinced they had something to do with him losing his arm. In reality, they had nothing to do with it and likely got their shit kicked in for helping the scientists they were supposed to be killing. They frantically explain this to Gordon, eventually earning his trust back when he realizes that they really didn’t betray him. They join the team once again to go find Bubby, and they’re more willing to take down the members of the military that they encounter this time around.

When they encounter Benrey again and everyone pulls out their passports, they do, in fact, have their passport. It’s met with a “Why do you even have that on you?” from Gordon, to which they reply “I forgot my drivers license at home.”

They are terrified of heights and hate the entire cliff sequence, but goddamn if they don’t lose their shit at the helicopter heap- They 100% play up that this is a Normal Military Device and then never mention it again.

When they meet Darnold they absolutely adore him, like, Darnold has got to be their favourite person they meet in Black Mesa I think. Please tell them more about potions.

As for finding Sunkist... :) violence /j It takes them a few seconds but when they realize that Forzen has kidnapped Tommy’s dog and they process what he’s saying in French, they just absolutely lose their shit.

“Do not come any further, I’m the remaining- I’m the US Military left.” “I’ll just go fuck myself then.”

“ VIENS PAS PRÈS DU CHIEN SINON JE VAIS LE TUER!” “...YOU’RE GONNA FUCKIN’ WHAT!?”

All that unfolds, they all chase after Forzen, he does his gay little voguing and disappears, and V just scoffs and goes “Typical.” or smth like that before moving on to talking about Tommy’s cool dog for a bit.

And then everyone goes to hell! I’m too lazy to talk about all that rn though and I’ve already talked a lot if you read all this thank you I love you

Other funny little notes: - Everything the Science Team says about killing the military is either met with unbridled enthusiasm or Genuine Terror, and more often than not it’s the latter - V knows a lot of cool science facts about plants and rocks and other shit like that - V and Forzen were both members of Teams Nice and it started as a joke based on the both of them being Canadians - “Gordon, I have good news! We have finally wiped out the entire United States Military!” just results in V turning into that one math meme - Their sort of funny Trait TM is just... offhanded smartass comments, honestly. Somebody asks if a dead guy is ok, they say they’re sure he’s fine, that sort of thing. - If they used a canon character model it would probably be the same one as Adrian

#i dont remember my tags but please enjoy my talk about funny bootboy v #long post

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ramblinganthropologist · 4 years

Text

Writober 2020 - 22 (Basement)

Summary: A sidequest went bump in the night at Hawke house. Just what the hell is in the basement anyway?

(Warning: blood, someone getting murdered.)

---

“Man, I haven't been down here since we used this way to break in!”

Talk about a sentence she had never expected to actually say...

Even though it was high noon, the room Moses and Avery stood in was dark. The lantern they had brought with them cut through some of the inky black, but it wasn't enough to see into the far back. Everything else was still hidden in the shadows, waiting to jump out at them.

Which was why they were wearing armor. They were kind of popular targets for assassination attempts as of late.

Avery, gifted with the ability to see better in the dark than her companion, glanced around. “I don't see anything, do you?”

“I have a lantern and you have night vision, what do you think?” Moses shifted the lantern before she could answer. “Leandra was probably just hearing things.”

Probably. That or she wanted to take them on a wild goose chase through their own fucking house. Anything was possible with that woman.

Avery's so-called mother was the reason they had found themselves down in the basement to begin with. Over breakfast, Leandra had claimed she had heard strange noises coming from beneath the house and all but begged them to go take a look. Normally they wouldn't have, but it just so happened that there was a way to get in from Darktown so... they had suited up and gone down.

It wasn't for her, of course. They were just satisfying their own curiosity.

“Well, let me go check the lock on the entrance.” Avery crossed the room, trying the heavy bar that held the door to Darktown shut. “Yep, this son of a bitch is locked up tighter than the guard house when there's trouble. Maybe it was just a rat or something.”

Moses nodded as he waited for her to return. “It'll give the dogs something to do if they find it.”

“Man, you've been hanging out with Anders too much. Cats go after rats...”

The two shrugged as they left the basement behind, returning it to the darkness. They had better things to do than to look around and wait for something to pop out anyway. With any luck, things would return to normal.

If not, they were heavily armed and fairly skilled.

---

“Wake up!”

It was really the fact someone was shaking her fucking arm off that woke Avery up. The shout was just an added bonus.

“What the fuck?” She blinked, eyes bleary. Even in the dark, she could make out that someone was standing next to her bed, eyes wide with terror. A few seconds later, she realized that person just so happened to be Leandra. Confusion was replaced by ire as she rubbed her eyes. “The fuck you want, Leandra, I was sl-”

The woman grabbed her arm. “I heard it again! Something's down there!”

Normally, Avery would have told her to fuck off and go back to sleep. It was what she wanted to do on her rare night off, but something about the wide eyes and iron-grip on her forearm prevented her from doing so.

Leandra was terrified. And as much as she might have enjoyed that... she wasn't going to get any rest until she checked it out.

“Fuck, fine... let me get my armor on and I'll go down to check it out. Stay here with Chewy I guess.”

She hopped out of bed, yawning. The human took her place, at least having the common courtesy to sit on top of the blanket instead of crawling under it. This change in motion caused the large dog curled at the foot of the bed to sit up and yawn, cocking her massive head to the side as she watched her owner head over to the armor stand.

Before Chewy could get up, she held out her hand. “You guard Leandra, girl. I've got this.”

Unsurprisingly, her mabari didn't fight too hard to follow her. Loyal as she may have been... she was also fucking tired. Avery couldn't fault her for that as she finished pulling on her armor. Once everything was clicked into place, she grabbed her sword and shield. Both were soon on her back as she left the room.

The house was quiet, unsurprisingly because everyone else was probably fucking asleep. Avery was careful to not walk too loudly, lest her armor-covered feet wake some other unfortunate soul up. She descended the stairs, and soon was heading to where Leandra had heard the noise. Into the dark basement she went, without a light to guide her.

After all, if something was there... well she would get the drop on them. Thank you night vision.

It was quiet in the basement when she got down there. Avery went from room to room, peering in to see if anyone was trying to hide out. However, she found nothing except a lot of dust and the signs that maybe a rat had got in. Rat poop wasn't much to go on, however.

“I'm going to kill Leandra for waking me up. Could probably hide her fucking body in Darktown or something.” She yawned. “I'm going the fuck back to s-”

In the distance, the soft creaking noise stopped her from talking. Avery ducked behind a box, eyes wide as she looked for signs of a disturbance. The bar across the locked door never moved, nor did anything else in the room. Despite that, her heart began to pound as a chill set over the room. She wanted to look away, but she was transfixed on the a point in the middle.

Then she saw the head.

Out of the darkness materialized a gray figure, practically see-through. They stayed there a moment, hovering, before they suddenly dashed to the barred door. They pulled at it with all their might, gestures panicky and frantic. Then they turned, facing the entrance to the room.

It was a girl, probably a few years younger than her. Her face was streaked with tears, and also flecks of blood. She had a scar through her left eyebrow, and she looked as though she hadn't eaten in a long time. To say she looked terrified was putting it mildly.

“N-No, please! I don't...”

The accent was Ferelden, though from where in the country Avery didn't know. She wanted to move, to jump to her aid, but her body was stuck in place. All she could do was watch as the atmosphere grew heavier by the second.

Then the figure went flying, smacking against the wall and sliding down. When they tried to get out, they let out a whimper. An impression formed around their neck – someone's hands. She tried to grab for them, but it was too strong.

“I didn't see you kill anyone, Ajax! Please-”

Then she was gone. The room was silent. With it came the heavy footsteps of a memory as whatever was playing out started to wind down. The footsteps continued right past Avery, sounding as though they were dragging something.

A few seconds later, the mood lifted. It was just a basement again.

Avery's heart was about to beat out of her chest as she leaned against the box, breathing hard. She could see it now – a slight dent in the wall just the size of someone's head. It had been there the entire time and they had never noticed it. Why would they, the basement had been in smuggling hands for quite sometime.

Whoever that girl was... well, she didn't know. She hadn't recognized her face in the brief moment she had seen her. Not part of the Rose was all she could say. One thing was for sure – she was dead. Her bones wee rotting somewhere that nobody would ever find them.

Ajax had probably made sure of that.

“I think I need to ask around tomorrow.” Her voice was shaky as she stood. “Maybe get Varric's help on this one.”

No doubt it was going to keep up until she found whoever this asshole was. Unlucky for him, she was tenacious. That was for sure as she started to climb the steps out of the empty basement. If he was still alive, she was going to find him.

What she was going to do with him... well, she'd figure that out later.

---

“Damn it's cold tonight.”

“Quiet... someone will hear us.”

Another night, another deal at the docks.

Two men stood in the alley, waiting. Their contact was supposed to be coming an hour after midnight, and the seconds were ticking away. With every one that passed, the anxiety ramped. Had they been turned into the guard?

“We shouldn't have done this... we're not-”

The larger man held up his hand. “Too late to say that. Now shut up. I think I hear someone coming.”

There were footsteps in the distance, and not those of the guard rolling past on patrol. They didn't sound like the heeled shoes of a woman who worked the docks either. Something like relief flooded over the two as they waited.

And then that faded the second the smaller of the two went sailing into a wall.

“There you fucking are.”

The person standing before him was almost half his size, wearing armor that looked as though they had taken it off a dwarf. Their eyes glowed in the moonlight, as did the fangs that were exposed whenever they spoke. His heart began to pound once more as the details started falling into place.

Fuck. It was Hawke.

He held up his hands. “We're not doing anything you need to get involved in, Ha-”

The air left his lungs as her punch found his gut. He was left doubled over, breathing hard as she kicked him hard. Something crunched as he went down onto the cold, dirty ground. All he could do was stare up at her.

Her eyes were burning with rage. “Ajax, right? I've been looking for you, you son of a bitch.”

With surprising strength, she grabbed him by the collar and hauled him against the wall. A sword was soon angled under his neck, right against his jugular. Those eyes never left him as he struggled to get his footing.

“I-I don't...”

She growled – it chilled his bones. “Save it for someone who hasn't been tracking you down. I've got you good on three murders, two assaults, and at least one kidnapping.”

The sword pressed into his neck, but never cut him. “Where the fuck did you put Amelia's body? Tell me and I won't slit your throat and toss you to the sharks.”

The name made his blood run cold as he struggled for breath. Details rushed through his mind – a late night like this one, a dirty shovel, and the pounding of his own heart as he hastily covered everything up. Usually, he was more thorough than that.

But... he had gotten careless.

“I don't know what you're-”

A thin stream of blood trickled down his neck from where she had cut him. “Every lie you tell means you're one second closer to losing your damn head. I'm not going to say it again. Where the fuck is she, Ajax?”

Panic raced through his brain. Though he had never met either Hawke, he had heard enough about them to know she wasn't kidding. Hawke had a body count attached to her name in the high double digits, maybe even triple by now. One more wouldn't make her lose much sleep, especially from how she was glaring at him.

Sometimes, you had to cut and run.

“If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell the guards.”

Hawke laughed, but there was nothing funny about it. “Yeah, that's not going to be a problem. Now, you telling me or what?”

The sword was getting closer to causing some real damage now. It was staring to get harder to breathe as he watched his blood trickle. Nobody was coming to his rescue either – his number two was still on the ground unconscious. Maybe he was dead too, or just concussed. Without him, he was on his own and with his back to the literal wall.

At least it was with someone who wasn't going to run to the guard. They hated each other.

“She's buried in Darktown, near the healer's clinic. There's a barrel over where I dug.” He winced. “Now are you going to let me go?”

The answer came with a quick slide across his neck. Blood spurted in a wide arc as she dropped him. He was left staring, wide eyed as the life drained from him. The last thing he saw before it all went black was Hawke walking away like a woman on a mission.

Then there was nothing.

---

“Damn it, what's taking so long.”

“Patience, Hawke. It will be over soon.”

She hated talking to Sebastian, but he was kind of her in for this sort of thing. Besides, he knew the Chantry better than she did, and he was more likely to get results. So she was left to stand there, twitching like an unruly child as she waited.

Had she ever mentioned she hated the Chantry? She really fucking did.

Sebastian watched her with a careful eye. “Aveline said you did the city a service by taking Ajax out. Kirkwall is breathing a little easier without him.”

“Amelia isn't.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But maybe after this she can rest easy. Her sister said she was Andrastian and all...”

That was something she had discovered too during her days of investigation. The girl who had died in her basement had been new to the city a year before she had gotten the house back. She had gone missing and had been presumed dead. That presumption had been proven true when Avery unearthed her bones and the necklace she wore a day prior. Now it was just... taking care of things.

Her sister was up at the front, paying attention to the service that was going on. After that, she'd get Amelia's ashes and... well, Avery was never sure what people did with them. They had buried her father, and it wasn't like she had been able to go back for Carver. It was a mystery she wasn't particularly keen on solving, all things considered.

“It's a miracle you were able to find her bones. Now maybe her family can heal.” He offered her a sort of sad smile. “Are you sure you don't want to say anything to her?”

Avery shook her head as she started towards the door. “No. I don't really know what I could say. Don't think she'll accept 'Hey I saw your sister's ghost get murdered, but at least I found her body under a fucking barrel. Also good news, the guy who did it is dead but that's not much.'”

It wasn't a particularly useful thing to say to someone grieving. She knew that better than anyone.

At least it was bright out when she left the Chantry building proper. Hightown was going about its business, as it always did. It was easy for her to slip in among them as she headed for home, hands in the pockets of her jacket.

With any luck, Amelia wouldn't be coming back to her basement that night. Maybe she was already with her Maker.

“Hope you're ok, wherever you are.” She shook her head as she turned for home. “Rest easy, I guess.”

She let the matter drop after that. There was plenty still to do in Kirkwall, and if she wanted to get any of it done she needed some rest. There was a bed calling her name, and she was going to answer it with open arms.

The rest... she could worry about that later.

#writober2020 #ramblinganthropologist's writing #Avery Hawke

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complicatedandstained · 5 years

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The Other Day at Hot Topic: Unwanted Advice

Roxas didn’t know how lucky he was that Vanitas initially intended to give him the silent treatment this morning.

Axel’s barely taken three steps out of Hot Topic before Vanitas starts in on Roxas again. Dude saunters up to him, swiping his tongue across the back of his hand and then cringing. Vanitas leans an arm against the checkout counter and tilts his head to squint up at the ceiling.

“I think there is actual vomit in my mouth right now.”

Talking with Axel’s left Roxas slightly fuzzy-headed, with a smile that’s starting to hurt his jaw. Roxas runs fingers through his hair and strains to mirror Vanitas’ scowl. “Shut up.”

Vanitas’ smooth, throaty voice lifts into a falsetto to mimic Roxas’ earlier words, “‘You want to pierce my what?’”

The falsetto drops off as Roxas grips the edge of the counter, tan knuckles whitening, and not just because he does not sound like that.

“Cringe.” Vanitas shifts to better visually appreciate Roxas’ growing discomfort. “I know grandmothers with better game than you.”

How had he and Axel not realized sooner Vanitas was listening in?

“Friends.” Roxas pushes back from the counter with both hands. “We’re friends.”

Vanitas’ smile stretches wider. “You were getting friendly alright.”

He has unexpectedly perfect teeth and that’s somehow unnerving.

“Chin up, though, Fight Club.” Vanitas pats the counter in lieu of trying to touch Roxas again. “I think your crush found it all endearing and such.”

Crush, Roxas considers. Because when someone else finds out about it, that’s the feeling that you get in your chest.

Vanitas prattles on, unaware that Roxas’ lungs have collapsed and he ought to be calling a paramedic.

“He was laying it on pretty thick. I don’t think a piercing’s the only thing that slut wants to give you for free.” Vanitas winks, like Axel had when he’d extended the offer, and Roxas feels like he’s been snapped in the face with a rubber band. “Be careful though. You’re a tiny thing, wouldn’t want him to break you.”

And then Vanitas starts to turn to walk away. And Roxas absolutely can’t have that.

“What’s your problem with me?” Roxas blurts before his common sense can grab him by the shoulders and restrain. “Do you want me to deck you again or what?”

The words don’t feel natural. He isn’t one for threats or unprompted violence, but he’s starting to wonder if that’s the only dialect of ‘stop talking’ Vanitas understands.

The guy’s smile drops straight off and he lifts both hands. Unfortunately, his mouth is still running, “No, no, no, hey, I get it now, sensitive topic: you and your new—ahem—close personal friend.” Vanitas’ dark brows bounce, and Roxas dated Seifer long enough to know when he was intentionally being baited.

Roxas places his hands back on the checkout counter and leans forward like he might vault himself over it. His next words edge through gritted teeth. “Drop it, man.”

“Hey,” Vanitas steps back, looking genuinely alarmed for half a second, apparently just now remembering that time when Roxas knocked him to the floor like a deflated punching bag. “I’m going to, because you didn’t rat me out earlier, and that was surprisingly not horrible of you.”

Vanitas nods like he’s about to go his own way.

“Not that it particularly helped,” he mumbles to himself, and then pauses, glances back over his shoulder with narrowed eyes. “Why didn’t you rat me out, by the way? You had plenty of chances to tell you-know-who what I said about him.”

Roxas scoffs. It’s like this Vanitas kid physically can’t not mock him. “Because I hit you? Because I can’t afford to lose this job?”

Vanitas’ pockets his hands and leans back, considering this new information with a wince.

Roxas stares Vanitas down. “And because you told me we were good. Are we good?”

“Of course, Roxas.” Vanitas makes no attempt to sound convincing.

“You’re not going to say this stuff to anyone who will listen?” Roxas prompts, and he’s starting to sound a touch pleading, “Because Axel has a boyfriend.”

Vanitas smirks. “No kidding.”

“And if he thinks I’m into him he might decide he doesn’t want me around.” The admission hurts worse than Vanitas’ mocking, burning at the edges of his tongue like something hot.

Vanitas rolls his eyes, voice smooth as ever, “You need to relax, Roxas. I’m not going to say anything to anyone, and I’ve got the bruised ribs to remind me.”

Roxas stares at Vanitas, trying to make himself sound like some kind of victim, as if Roxas wasn’t there.

“Actually,” Vanitas continues, drumming fingertips against the counter, his matte white polished nails not as chipped as his own. “I meant to be nicer earlier, it’s just, never in a million years did I think Axel’d actually be into a cute, insignificant, little nothing like you. But he must be, right? Because otherwise—and I’m still trying to process this part—he would have torn your throat out for talking trash about his boyfriend. Talk about ballsy, Roxie.”

“What?” Each word out of Vanitas’ mouth sounds more and more absurd. “I didn’t…”

Vanitas’ hand goes flat against the counter and he leans in like a poker player upping the ante. “Didn’t you?”

“You’re trying to say that Axel and Saïx are… actually together.” Roxas’ brows furrow. “Axel and Saïx.”

“Our type A, emotionally void, drill sergeant boss? That’s his man.” Vanitas shakes his head wistfully. “No wonder his thoughts are straying…”

As awful as this description sounds, it reminds Roxas of what he had said to Axel. About his... boyfriend? But Axel is nothing like that. And Axel had been so nice afterwards. And Vanitas is such a prick there’s no telling…

“Ah-ha.” Vanitas giggles and it’s terrifying. “You seriously didn’t know. Well, there goes half my respect for you. But hey, consider my honesty your payback for not ratting me out. Axel and Saïx? They’ve been together since the dawn of time, dumbass. It’s why Axel’s always here.”

Roxas shakes his head. It doesn’t add up.

“Quit messing with me.”

“Wish I was,” Vanitas picks up a round, pokéball shaped chapstick from one of the counter display bins and rolls it between his fingers. “Most days I feel like a ping pong ball being smacked between the two of ‘em. They don’t want to let me get away with anything, but they don’t want to fire me, free me.”

Vanitas clenches the chapstick in his hand and seems to realize he’s gotten off topic.

“They live together,” he elaborates, gesturing with his open hand like a reluctant orchestra conductor. “They’ve got like a dog, a flower garden, throw cushions, plans to honeymoon in Italy.” He stops, nose wrinkling. “I could keep going, but I’d vomit, and you’d be cleaning it up for making me explain this.”

Roxas tries to picture it—it just seems so unlikely. Axel’s so easygoing, Saïx, so uptight. They’re like hot and cold, an oven and a freezer.

“They’d strangle each other in five minutes,” Roxas objects.

“Had a lot of time to make it work. Grew up together. Childhood sweethearts,” Vanitas draws a mocking smile, shoulder bouncing again in a nonchalant challenge. “Ask anybody.”

Roxas’ arms cross, and it feels childish but necessary. “I will.”

“And when they confirm, you and I’ll be even.” Vanitas tosses the chapstick up, catches it. “How about that?”

“If they confirm.”

“When.” Vanitas gives Roxas another triumphant stare that makes his stomach feel like he’s chugged a large, freezing milkshake. “Now,” he jerks a thumb to the backroom where piles of boxes still await them, “let’s get back to work.”

Roxas snorts, taken aback. “Did you just say ‘work’?”

Roxas hasn’t forgotten that Vanitas’ definition of ‘working’ earlier had been standing around while he and Aqua lugged boxes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Vanitas rolls his eyes, “gonna pull my weight and all that jazz. Getting fired’s off the agenda for a while.” His annoyance darkens to a glare. “Don’t make me say it twice.”

“Fine.” Roxas shrugs and moves to head out from behind the register to join him. Whatever Aqua’d said to the guy must have been pretty darn inspiring. “But you need to start minding your own business.”

“There, there, Fight Club.” Vanitas pats his shoulder and slides between Roxas and the rounder of hair dyes, toward the back, wearing a smile that makes Roxas twitch. “Your dirty little secret’s safe with me.”

* *

Axel’s always thought that if he and Larxene had friendship necklaces they would say something passive aggressive like “Best B*tches” or “You Suck Slightly Less Than Other People.” And the way Axel sees it, we all need that friend who tells it to us straight. It just so happens that, in Axel’s case, all of his friends tell it to him straight: Saïx, Demyx, Xigbar...

But Larxene is next level.

There had been a break in the Claire’s crowds, and Axel and Larxene were back in the staff lounge again, him disinfecting his piercing equipment at the tiny sink by the mini fridge, her, a few steps away, clearing out a cubby for their new coworker.

Axel had told Larxene everything. He usually does. And when he doesn’t, she gives him hell until he wises up and fesses up.

Which is fine. He trusts her. She doesn’t spread his tea around like she might somebody else’s, and her unwanted advice is surprisingly solid, as far as unwanted advice goes.

When Axel stops talking for a minute, she clings to the sides of the stacks of cubbies like she’s fighting to hold herself up. “You are such an idiot I physically cannot stand it.”

Maybe not that straight.

“I’m sure Demyx will stop them from doing anything too crazy,” he insists.

Axel is not sure of this at all, but he’s not desperate enough to bug Luxord to come in when he no longer owes Axel a favor. That’s how you end up owing Luxord a favor. And that’s how you end up mostly naked flipping burgers on a yacht for some bachelorette, while your buddy hosts casino night below deck.

Or so he’s heard.

“I’m not talking about Demyx. Although,” Larxene chews on the thought, “you’re probably wrong about that too.”

“So, give me some advice then.” If she has any ideas on placating Saïx or getting Vanitas’ toes on the line, he’s all ears.

“Hm,” she pretends to consider. “Um, fire Roxas and Vanitas like you should have done in the first place?”

“Useful advice.”

“Alright. Stop tormenting the new kid, so you can get your skinny butt to work on time.”

Axel suspects she’s just upset that they got lectured by Marluxia. Axel usually doesn’t drag her down with him. Then again, she usually isn’t the one who broke the rules.

“I was going to leave on time, Larx, but you didn’t see him.” Axel musses his hair. “I couldn’t just go.”

He can still picture Roxas, slumped over a box of earrings, back in zombie mode. “He gets this sad, vacant expression like he’s been through something…” He shakes his head, feeling something tiny in his chest compress. “And between Vanitas, Lex, and Saïx, he kind of has. I had to try to cheer him up, y’know, make him feel welcome.” He stares at the ceiling for a second, voice quiet and wry, “Can’t count on anyone else to do it.”

“Right,” she sasses, pausing in her work to turn on him, hand on popped hip, “and how d’you think that went?”

“Hm? Think I overdid it.” He grins—he can’t not grin. “He got a little…flustered.” His equipment jabs at his hand and he glances down to refocus, lip still quirked up. “Was absolutely adorable, though.”

“You’re a douchebag.”

Well, it’s not Thursday if she doesn’t tell me that at least three times.

She slaps her hand against the white wood of the cubbies. “New advice: Stop talking to the new kid altogether.”

“It’s called being friendly,” Axel counters, slowly. “You could try it some time.”

She jeers, her green eyes fixing on him as he rubs his equipment down with a soft rag soaked in an alcohol solution. “Your definition of cheering someone up is flirting with them.”

He wants to deny it completely, but she’s not exactly the first to tell him so.

Liquid trickles down his arm, and he uses the rag to clear it up, slow circles, considering the words he traded with Roxas. “Maybe, a little,” Axel concedes with a small smile. “He didn’t seem to mind.”

Larxene dumps an armful of somebody’s shit in the pink-pearl-hued trash bin Xigbar donated to them on Demyx’s behalf. Papers, deodorant, candy wrappers, and a handful of the origami stars Naminé made fall in. Axel hopes they’re not his.

“Did you touch him?”

He doesn’t glance up. “Probably.”

“Axel.”

Their eyes meet. “Only a couple times.”

“So, yes. Did you tell him he was pretty?”

He returns his attention to the sink. “I—not exactly.”

“So, yes.”

“No. Larxene…” Cleaning fluid splashes the wall as Axel jerks the bottle too hard. “It’s fine.”

“You don’t know what it was like for Roxas,” she accuses, sneering, brushing off her hands above the bin and stepping closer. “What if he didn’t like it?”

“He liked it.” Axel rolls his eyes. “Trust me.”

“Then what if you gave him the wrong idea?”

Axel shakes his head, vaguely miffed, one palm bouncing up, “That I want to spend time with him?”

“You know I’m all for playing the field, but you’re dating Saïx,” she annunciates in that shrill way she has.

“Which means I can’t just ‘spend time with’ somebody? You’re starting to sound like Xigbar,” he teases, not as gently as he means to, but still, with a smile.

Larxene winces at this particularly low blow. She and Xigbar are too alike to get along at all—unapologetically stubborn, willful, profane.

“It’s not like that.” His towel is dripping cleaner and he twists it. “Roxas knows I’m seeing somebody.”

“Saïx is not just somebody, Axel. He’s Roxas’ boss. And boy doesn’t like to share his toys.”

He rings his towel harder, Saïx’s bracelet sliding down his wrist. “I know.”

He thinks of Marluxia. Just because Saïx hadn’t fired Vexen for hitting on a tipsy, flirty Axel like everyone seems to think he did, doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have gladly done so.

She glares at Axel haughtily as she pitches a final paper star into the trash, like she’s not yet convinced.

Axel sighs in concession. “Okay, okay, okay, like I said, I overdid it,” his head tilts, smile tight, “but it worked, alright? Roxas was happy. I made him happy.” He stops smiling. His green eyes can pierce souls too. “I’m not gonna apologize for that.”

“You wanted my advice.” She grabs a Sharpie from the cup on the desk beside the cubbies and points it toward Axel, capped marker jabbing the air emphatically, like a throwing knife. “When this blows up in your face, I’m going to be the one with the margarita and the big old sign saying ‘I told you so.’”

He wonders if she might be right. Again, he thinks about the weeks of silence that greeted him when he got Vexen sacked. He doesn’t want that, not from Roxas. Or worse, he doesn’t want Saïx turning on Roxas if he thinks they’re spending too much time together.

He’s got to get in front of all this. Spin the narrative in his favor. Get Saïx on board with his new buddy. Get Roxas out of his slump. “It might help if Roxas believed me when I told him the truth.”

“Well, you and Saïx ain’t exactly a matching set.”

“How long did it take you to figure out?” Axel asks without looking at her, although his equipment hasn’t needed its past three rub downs. She doesn’t answer and he glances up. “That Saïx and I are together, I mean.”

The Sharpie she’s taken to the new employee label halts mid letter. It takes her a long moment to answer.

“I’d been at Hot Topic for maybe a day or two. Saïx was in the middle of teaching me some register bullcrap and you walked in. He froze up for a second. That was strange by itself, he’s usually so put together and customer friendly. He barely looked up, said, ‘Be with you in a minute.’

“But you completely ignored that, walked right up behind the counter and put these nice aviators with the tags still on ‘em on his forehead while he was talking. He shut up again and you said, ‘Beach later?’ And I just stood there waiting for him to chew you out, like, who the hell did you think you were to talk to Saïx like that? But he cracked and gave you this gag-worthy, million-dollar smile. Thumbed the sunglasses and said, ‘Yes, alright.’ And you said ‘Alright’ and smiled like you got away with something, and then you left. He was in a freaking sunshiny mood for the rest of the day.”

It all sounds vaguely familiar. They were Saïx’s favorite sunglasses for months until Xigbar took them surfing and a wave swallowed them away. Still.

“Not exactly the height of romance,” Axel mumbles, a brow rising, but he’s smiling again, something softer.

“It didn’t have to be. I could just tell, the way you two, I don’t know, respond to each other. So, if you insist on babysitting the new brat instead of canning him, might wanna come clean before he figures it out himself. I don’t need anyone else fawning all over you, and it sounds like his week’s been crappy enough as it is.”

Roxas. Fawning. Christ. If anyone’s fawning, it’s me.

She doesn’t get it.

I just want to pick up the melancholy little thing and put him on a tall shelf. Maybe a tower.

Someplace high up where nothing bad can touch him. Someplace that’ll make him smile.

Someplace close to the clouds with a salt breeze and a sunset, ocean view.

“Alright,” Axel hears himself say, “I’ll set him straight later.”

Finished clearing out the cubby and penning the label, Larxene turns to him, pale, thin, blonde brows arching. “Later?”

“I’m supposed to meet up with the cuddly-looking little badass after my shift.”

Her brows furrow. “Axel.”

This conversation is starting to exhaust him. Axel wraps up his tools in a dry cloth and glowers. “I’m allowed to have attractive friends, you know. Saïx’s therapist said it was okay.”

Words catch in her throat. Overhead the speakers go silent between songs. He feels like he’s swallowed something with sharp edges.

A new song starts, something upbeat, more One Direction, and the moment passes.

“Yeah, yeah.” Her eyes roll and her elbow jabs his bicep. “Just keep your hands to yourself.”

He manages a smirk. “No promises.”

Larxene smacks his arm, and he raises both hands in self-defense, toning down his grin.

“Alright, alright. I’ll try.”

He holds the door for her and they file out of the staff lounge.

“But he’s just so cute.”

“There you two are.” Marly is already approaching with light, quick steps, arms raised as if he intends to drag them out forcibly if necessary. “Come on to the front for a minute, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

#kingdom hearts #roxas #vanitas #axel #larxene #saix #organization xiii #akuroku #akusai #the other day at hot topic #my writing

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a-copper-butterfly · 5 years

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Title Suggestions Needed!

OK so i posted this before but i have edited it a bit and added a new intro. im still not sure if i should continue this but what the hay, have a look and give us some feed back. :)

here is my re-write of good omens where the ineffable husbands raise Adam.

Monday, five days before the end of the world.

It was sunny, well, as sunny as it every was in the centre of London.

For those you don’t know, London is a vaguely potato shaped blob about ten miles across, with its own weather system which is almost entirely different to that of the rest of the UK.

Warlock was moping along his nose glued to his phone (not literally, thought Crowley sometimes wished he could get close enough with some glue without the little nuisance noticing.) Warlock had perfected the art of nearly completely ignoring the world around him, but remining just aware enough that he could complain at anyone who might distract him. His mother was walking along admiring the sculptures, pausing now and then to read an information sign. She did this much in the same manner as most people the world over when they want to look more intelligent than they are. They don’t actually read what is written on the information board, just frown and nod like you agree with what ever had been said then point to it and repeat a few lines when a friend or family member joins you. Thus, the whole cycle repeats itself.

A little way from the stroppy pre-teen, representatives of both heaven and hell discussed the fate of the world.

“I mean, he could just disappear,” suggested the Demon. He was slouched on the wooden bench. This was a master level slouch of someone who had trained for years to hold his body in such a position. A normal person if attempting this would pull a muscle if not worse.

The Angel that sat prim and proper next to him frowned,

“I don’t see how hiding him would help?” he said, which earned a glare form his companion. The thick sunglasses that covered the Demons yellow eyes obscure the fond irritation directed at the angel.

“I mean kill him Angel,” he clarified.

The Angel shuffles in his seat uncomfortable about this conversation. He tried to change the subject, but not too much avail.

“Are you going to get him a dog?” Azriaphale looks over at Crowley, know full well that he had been asked to provide the hound and that this was purely a diversion.

“I thought you were going to sort that out.” Crowley responded, rolling his concealed eyes.

“Why are we getting him a dog anyway.”

Crowley gave a side glances at his companion, silently noting the use of “we”.

Azriaphale wasn’t done with his grumbling, “Do remember the hamster?” he continued.

“Sir hamserlot? Yeah.” Crowley cringed at the memory of the tan and white little rodent. The poor thing when through so meant names it was a wonder it didn't have identity issues.

“How meant times did we have to pull that poor creature back from the jaws of death?” Aziraphale says shaking his head. The poor thing had eventual snuffed it permanently when the boy had gotten it into his head that hamsters could swim. They can, much like rats, but being put in a crudely made ship and pushed out on a duck pond in the middle of winter would be terminal for most rodents or any other small mammal.

A dog is a bit bigger. This was the only argument Crowley could come up with at the time.

“Well” Azriaphale relented “he is a bit older now.”

Crowley shuffled further into his slouch.

“It's the end if the world Angel.” He muttered gloomily, “Just give the kid what he wants. And he wants a dog.”

Aziraphale flinched at this painful truth.

“Well you have a point dear. Fine, he can have a dog.”

There was a pause as they watched Warlock ignore the world around him and play on his phone. The cartoonish sounds of games annoying the people around him. Crowley smirked; apps had been one of his ideas. Well, according to hell they were. Humans were always doing his job for him; he just took the credit when the higher ups asked about it. He sighs and slips back into the conversation about the end of the world.

“We’d better be there when the dog arrives” Crowley said darkly.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary. I think he can look after himself and a dog for a few hours. He is old enough now, don’t you think?” Aziraphale smiles nodding in agreement with himself.

Crowley shot the angel a withering look.

“I meant the hellhound and Warlock, not some overly excited puppy with a bladder size of a spoon. This is going to a monster. The biggest they have got, according to downstairs.”

Aziraphale lip touched in a pout. “Oh” was all he said.

“I'm going as waiting staff don't want people recognizing me.” Crowley continued. “Can you bring him?”

“He said he doesn’t want to go. Said warlock isn't fun to hang out with anymore.” Aziraphale said, fumbling with a button on his sleeve cuff.

“Too bad. He is going to seeing a lot more of him whether he likes it or not. That is if there is anything after.” Crowley responded darkly. He still hadn’t figure how they were going to make it through the next few days.

A sudden though shot through Aziraphale mind.

“I could be the entertainment! I’ll brush up on my magic!” he said excitedly, beaming at the idea.

“Oh no, angel, please don’t. Really, it’s humiliating.” Crowley protested, “You can do miracles, why bother doing sleight of hand when you’re not good at it?” Aziraphale bounced in his seat. This was going to be fun.

One late august night just outside the small village of Tadfield,

When a snake regurgitates its food, its normally because it had been grabbed or handle soon after eating or is otherwise subjected to stress.

As Crowley knelt in damp grass on the bank beside the road, he wiped his mouth. The light from the Bentley’s open door revealing the grey sludge that was even now burning the grass. The small part of Crowley’s mind that wasn’t screaming in panic wondered when the last time he had eaten was. Without the help of the rest of his brain, he guessed around six years ago.

Pushing himself up onto wobbly legs, Crowley slid back into the driving seat, switched on the radio as he did so. As he pulled the car back onto the road, Crowley checked the rear-view mirror. The carry cot was still there. This was real.

“Shit, shit, shit, why me, why me?” he muttered to himself. The radio crackle,

“BECAUSE YOU EARNED IT CROWLEY” came the voice of Freddy Mercury.

“Fuck…” though Crowley.

Sister Annabelle Houghton was totally normal, much to the annoyances of her parents. They were traditional occultists who gave her supposedly cursed china dolls and pretty, frilly dresses in attempts to get her possessed. They had even moved at an old house which the nice estate agent had made very clear was the site of quite a few murders and ghost stories. It even had its own graveyard in the garden. Her swing was hung in an old knarred oak tree which legend had it was used as a hangman’s gibbet, but she never used it. When Annabelle eventually grew up, her parents had lamented and had sent her off to the Sisterhood of Chattering Nuns of St Beryl. Not too worried about this, Annabelle went along as she thought it might be interesting.

Now she sat looking out of one of the convent’s window keeping watch for the arrive of Master Crowley and the baby boy he carried with him. The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of this world, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness. She was very excited; this was a big day and she, Sister Annabelle, would be part of it. A cup of tea sat on the windowsill beside her. It had gone cold hours ago, No matter.

A car came screaming through the gates of the convert an excitement jolting up her spine. Sister Annabelle leapt from her seat and began to quickly click her way down the hall towards the foyer. She turned the corner expecting to see one of her sisters talking to Master Crowley but broke into a run when she saw which sister it was. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Sister Mary Loquacious, she was a lovely person when you were sat having a chat, it was just that things, important things, tended to go wrong when she was involved.

“Mother Superior! Mater Crowley is here!” she half-yelled, her fists full of her skirt as she leaped down the three little steps leading up to the corridor. Crowley quickly ducked behind a column in responses to the shouting. Shouting mostly lead to pitchforks, torches and a bad time for him.

“Greeting Master Crowley” she said, tried to smile and make her voice sound cheerful but her eyes were screaming at Sister Mary Loquacious. If she wasn’t holding The Anti-Christ, she may have shoved her out of harm’s way (harm’s way meaning any damage Sister Loquacious could cause to others, not the other way around). Sister Annabelle stopped next to her sister, peering at the bundle in her arms. The baby gurgled quietly. She quickly curtsied to Master Crowley who was still looking between the nuns wondering if he could slip out before anyone noticed.

The double doors leading to the hospital rooms flew open and a furious old nun stormed through. This was not part of the plan. She ran her icy gaze over the two nuns, who both know the consequences of that stare. Her eyes found Crowley who was trying not to look like a rabbit in the headlights, he was a demon after all. There was no escape now.

Long hair, sunglasses, modern suit, snakeskin shoes? Not what she though one of hell’s best demons would look like. She raised an eyebrow and forced a smile.

“Master Crowley, you’re just in time.” she walked slowly with an air of control. Crowley drew himself up to his full height. The Mother Superior had the eyes of a school master and they are well known for making even the naughtiest individuals squirm.

“Sister Annabelle, please go and retrieve the child of the ambassador and inform the other sisters that the switch will be taking places presently.” she smiled at the terrified nun who swallowed and nodded, turning to hurrying down the hall. Crowley tried to sidle towards the door. He stopped dead when the older nun eyes dropped on him. He tried to give her a confident smile.

“Master Crowley, if you would just pop over to the desk, we have a few papers for you to sign just to keep everything in order.” she turned and glided over to the foyer desk and began to draw papers out of a file. Crowley reluctantly followed her, dumping the now empty carry cot on the desk before propping himself up on it.

Sister Mary Loquacious frowned. She rocked the Anti-Christ in her arms. He was chewing on his hand. She had checked, it didn’t have claws. She looked up at Master Crowley and frowned again. She walked over to the desk,

“Umm Master Crowley?” she asked and terrifying yellow eyes looked at her over dark sunglasses. Something in the very pit of her soul screamed and told her to run. It was the same part that makes skulls scary, even though they are always smiling. She took a step back,

“Yeah?” he grunted. Mother Superiors levelled her glare at the Sister. She didn’t notice, now over the shock of yellow eyes she felt bolder,

“What is going to happen to the spare baby?” she asked. Crowley rolled his eyes to the Mother superior who was trying to set the younger nun on fire via sheer force of will. Without taking her eyes of her pray the Mother Superior said,

“Yes, that was something I was going to ask you as well Master Crowley. We are willing to go through with the switch, but we want nothing to do with disposing of the baby,” her eyes now turned on Crowley “We may be satanic Nuns, but we are not monsters.” Crowley paused at this juxtaposition. He huffed and turned back to the paperwork, one of hells better inventions,

“Put it in the carry cot, I will deal with it,” Crowley replied absentmindedly. “Sure, why not?” Crowley thought “Not like it will matter in a few years anyway”. Sister Mary Loquacious ginned the kind of grin that would suggest she didn’t quite understand what was going on.

“Sister Mary, please take The Young Lord down to Sister Annabelle.” Mother Superior said as she started pulling out more official looking papers. Crowley slouched at the prospect of more paperwork. Sister Mary Loquacious nodded happily and pushed through the double doors leading to the hospital rooms. Now that The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of this world, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness was out of eyesight, Crowley felt a weight off his back. He no longer wanted to vomit.

Sister Mary Loquacious had found a potable cot for the anti-Christ, in which he now rested. his red blanket tucked around him. She pushed him down the hall spotting sister Annabelle pushing a similar cot out of room 4. Sister Mary paused outside room 3 ready to make the swap. A putrid smell began to waft up the hall. Both sisters gaged. A similar smell began to rise form the baby in the cot in front of Sister Mary and the babies began to cry in unison. Sister Annabelle reached Sister Mary, her face pushed into her shoulder and her eyes watering.

“I think our lord has made us an offering,” she gaged as she spoke, “and this little man has also given us a gift too”. She pushed open the door to delivery room 3 and hurriedly pushed the cot in. Sister Mary followed with her own charge.

“You change the babies and I will fetch the carry cot from Master Crowley.”. It was clearly just a excuse to getting out of having to be in same room as the stench for any longer but Sister Mary didn’t want to argue. The smell was truly awful.

In the bed, Mrs Young turned over a frown wrinkling her brow, some internal mothering instinct told her that a baby needed changing but something else told her it wasn’t hers so sleep on.

Sister Mary hesitated as she plucked the Anti-Christ from his cot and laid him on the changing table beside the door. She unwrapped the blanket and dropped it back in the cot. The baby whimpered as she removed the dirty nappy and cleaned him. She cooed at him. “Imagine little me changing the Destroyer of worlds’ nappy and powdering his little tush.” Sister Mary thought to herself. The baby in the other cot began to cry.

The mother in the bed yawned but stayed asleep. In an attempted sooth the baby, Sister Mary picked the ambassadors baby up. He was a chunky baby and quite heavy. Sister Mary had to shift him about a bit before they were both comfortable. The white blanket was lost in this juggling. As she bounced the baby the door to the room opened. Expecting sister Annabelle, Sister Mary turned to face the door where a man peering around the door.

“Err Hello. I’m the father, the husband, whatever.” He stammered, walking over to stand by his wife. Looking up he wondered over to the babies looking down at the baby on the changing table.

“Is this him?” he asked in awe. The baby looked up at him and immediately began to cry. Terrified about what he had done he scooped up the baby and began to pat his back.

“Umm no, these two not yours. Your baby is with your wife over there.” She nodded towards Mrs Young and the cot next to her.

Sister Mary was beginning to gag over the smell coming from the baby in her arms, she laid him on the changing table and began to clean him up.

After soothing the baby in his arms, Mr Young laid the baby down in the empty crib. He picked up the white blanket and tucked it around the baby. He walked over to the cot next to his wife and looked down at the baby. A small part of him was hopeful that he would look upon the face of his child and instantly recognized it as his own. But when he looked down at the sleeping baby, he looked identical to the two with the nun. This one was a little smaller but there wasn’t a moment of recognition. Of course, he didn’t say that. He smiled and looked back at the nun who was disposing of the nappy in a small bin next to the table.

“You know he looks like me.” He said proudly. The Nun smiled at him, rewrapping the baby,

“Have you thought of a name?” she asked. There was a nervous air about her. That probably came with having to look after two babies at once. He had new respect for people with twins and triplets.

They had discussed names but not come to any solid concoctions, they had a name if it had been a girl and after twitching the blanket back it couldn’t be used anymore. The baby snuffled in its sleep; Mr. Young jumped back afraid that he would make it cry like he had the other child.

“We haven though of any names for a boy,” he explained as the nun had finished changing the baby in front of her. Then, looking down at the second with a frown, she looked at the baby in her arms. After a moment hesitant, she seemed to come to a conclusion and plopped it in the second cot wrapping it in the red blanket.

“Well, what about the classic like Luke, John, Adam. Bible names and the like?” She rocked the babies in the cots. Mr. Young though about this for a second as he looked back at his son. He didn’t really look like any of those names, but they were good honest names. Suddenly a nun scuttled into the room. She looked a little out of breath. She looked at Mr. Young the way one would look at a velociraptor. She managed to school her features and smile at him.

Sister Annabelle had returned to the front desk and immediate run into Mr. Young who had asked what room his wife was in. Directing the man to the room without a though until she had picked up the carry cot. She had just sent an imposter into the same room as The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of this world, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness. Picking up her heels again, she took off down the hall and was now stood with Sister Mary, two babies and the carry cot. She turned her slightly manic smile on Sister Mary. She winked. Sister Mary Winked back. They smiled at each other.

“Baby removal services,” she laughed pushing the baby with the red blanket out of the room. She pointed at the carry cot next to the remaining baby and nodded down the hall. Sister Mary nodded back. She placed the carry cot on the changing surfaces and placed the remaining baby in the white blanket in it. Scooping up baby and carry cot she moved to leave the room,

“Umm,” said Mr. Young using the tone of someone who doesn’t want to be a bother but is no doubts going to be a problem.

“Is there any paperwork I need to fill in,” he asked nervously. Always ready to be helpful, Sister Mary nodded and beckoned for him to follow her. It wasn’t until they entered the hall that she realized this might have been a bad decision. She could see Master Crowley’s back to her when Mr. Young held the door open. Trying to think fast she walked up to him putting the now full carry cot next to him on the desk.

“Here is you son Master Crowley,” she said as way of explanation. The yellow eyes turned on her and the primal urge to run shot up her spine. Mr. Young was too distracted to notice, walking up next to her and leaned against the desk.

“Umm, does the birth certificate need signing?” he asked looking over the desk at all the papers. The Mother Superior who had been overseeing Crowley filling out all the correct papers in the right places. It wouldn’t do to have buggered up the paperwork on such a big job. She pulled a file over the papers and put on her best plastic smile. She flicked through the relevant files and produced a birth certificate for Mr. Young. She also pulled one out and handed it to Crowley. Conscious of the presents of Mr. Young, Crowley took the offered page. Mr. Young peeked into cot at the baby.

“He’s a cute one,” he says trying to rope Crowley into a conversation so he can talk about his own kid. Crowley doesn’t acknowledge him. Not deterred, Mr. Young filled in the birth certificate leaving the name till last. He still needed to talk to his wife about it.

“Though of a name yet?” he asked. Again, this was met by silenced. Mr. Young looked over at Crowley, he was well dressed and very out of places here. He didn’t have the look of expectant father. He looked worried.

“We were thinking about Adam,” he continued. This conversation was going to happen even if he had to do it himself. However, this got a reaction out of the other man. He laughed. He snorted then laughed out loud.

“Something wrong with Adam?” Mr. Young questioned, getting slightly defensive over a possible name for his son. The man pushed his long hair back away from his face. He was handsome, even Mr. Young had to admit that.

“No, it’s a fine name. But I knew an Adam once, he was a complete bastard,”.

Sister Mary giggled under her breath. But then frowned at the thought of how a demon knew the original Adam. She puzzled over this for the rest of the conversation.

Mr. Young let his shoulders drop,

“What would you suggest then?” he asked sheepishly. Crowley turned on him and Mr. Young had to squash a sudden urge to back away and make himself small. Crowley looks him up and down before speaking. His emotionless sunglasses making it feel like he wasn’t blinking. He wasn’t but behind the glasses no one could tell.

“Something royal may be. Henry, James, William?” he suggested. Mr. Young felt better about these names.

Crowley looked back at the almost complete page in front of him.

“It doesn’t matter, it will all be over in eleven years anyway.” Crowley mumbled glumly as he looked at the last section of the certificate

FIRST NAME:

It was blank. He stared at it. Did he have to name it?

“Oh,” Mr. Young said confused. In an effort to change the typic he looked into the cot again, “You know, he looks like an Adam.” he added.

Crowley huffed but he couldn’t think of anything better. Plus, it made sense in an ironic way. Crowley scribbled the name down on the final dotted line on the page pushing it towards the nun. He snatched the carry cot of the desk and strode out the lobby. Mr. Young tried to wave goodbye, but Crowley was long gone.

Sister Annabelle handed the baby to the ambassador’s wife who looked down at him with the love of a first-time mother,

“Sorry that took so long Your Ladyship, he is such a scrumptious little man. Every nun in the convent had to coo at him,” Sister Annabelle sighed as she stood back, her job was done. She really needs a cup of tea now.

Mother Superior quietly pushed open the door and came in.

“Oh what a little lord,” she said causing all nuns in the room to smile. “Have you thought of a name?”

The convent burnt down that night. However, the only paperwork that was destroyed was form that night. Apart from the birth certificate of one James Henry Young

Crowley pulled the Bentley into a short dead-end road that was the entrances to a farmer’s field. He cut the engine and the lights of the snarling beast of a car disappeared, leaving only the dark hedgerow in front of him.

The silence enveloped the car, seeming to seep in through all the gaps in the doors and poured out of the vents. Soon Crowley was engulfed in it. He paused, appreciating the moment. The sound of the engine cooling was the only noise that could be heard inside the car. The carry cot next to him cooed. He looked over at his new acquisition and pulled it closer to him. He carefully pulled the small and oh so delicate baby out and laid him across his knees looking up at him. The baby yawned but seemed very much awake. The white blanket that was bundled around him stopping his arms from moving.

Crowley huffed and rubbed his faces pushing his glasses off slightly. He squeezed his eyes shut and began to mutter at the baby,

“Okay first test,”

He pulled his glasses off completely and crouched over the baby sticking his tough out. Letting the glamor over it drop so the tips flicked over the babies scrunched up little nose. His eyes almost glowed yellow in the darkness he didn’t show his true, true form just these small parts. The Baby screeched and Crowley jerked back worried, but unsurprised, that he had terrified the poor thing. When the screech turned into a gurgling laugh, he looked back at the baby who had wiggled free an arm and was grabbing at Crowley with a gummy grin. Slight confused Crowley rewrapped the baby in his white blanket and shifted it to be cradled in his arms,

“Okay so you passed the first test. Now we need to go other some ground rules if this arrangement is going to work out.”.

The baby babbled at him trying to wiggle free of his confines. He seemed fine with the whole yellow eyes and snake toung though. Probably knew no different, Crowley wondered leaning back in the driver’s seat.

“So I will house you, feed you and take care of you until you have worked out how to use a toilet after that we can look into the walking, talking, reading, writing business but there are some conditions that you have to uphold,”.

The baby sneezed, looked shocked at this strange turn of events, blinked a few times before looking back up at the demon. Now that he had the baby’s attention again Crowley continued,

“Firstly, the family you came from, the one that has the antichrist.” The baby watched him with uncanny eyes that seemed to understand what he was saying. That or more worryingly for Crowley he was ranting at a newborn infant that had no idea what was going on and was just watching him make noises in the dark car.

“Warlock, they called him Warlock.”

The baby gave him a half smile, hoping that the smile was from recognizing the name.

“You’re gonna have to be friends with that brat. secondly you will not get in my way or interfere with my work.”

The baby yawned at him. It seemed that all the excitement was getting the better of him its eyes began to slip closed. Crowley rocked him slightly trying not to enjoy holding the child, a small part of him that was thought to be long dead, started to thaw. He placed the baby back in the carry cot in the passenger’s seat. The baby whimpered at the movement but settled back in the crib snuggling into the blanket.

Crowley backed out and onto the road, where was the nearest mother care?

Azriaphale had just got back to the book shop when the phone rang. He paused hanging his coat up on its peg, before picking it up, he suspected who it might be but wasn’t sure. He plucked the phone from the handle and held it daintily to his ear,

“I’m dreadfully sorry but I’m afraid we are closed at the...,” his polite but discouraging scripted was cut by a very familiar voice,

“It’s me Angel.”

It sounded although Crowley was making this call from a phone box. Oh dear, what trouble had he gotten himself into now.

“Crowley? Is that you?” he asked anyway knowing the answer,

“Yes. We need to talk.” He said matter of factly.

“Yes, I rather think we do.” Azriaphale thought of the conversation he had had with Gabriel earlier that day.

Crowley looked through the window of the Bentley at the sleeping baby inside. He hung up the phone and got back into the car. He looked over at the child. He was so small. Crowley stroked his cheek with a black nailed finger.

“You have no idea what is going on. I envy you Adam,” the baby sighed in his sleep.

#good omens #good omens fic #Ineffable Husbands #crowley x aziraphale #crowley good omens #aziraphale good omens #adam young good omens #fanfic

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entro-writes · 6 years

Text

Every Road Home: Chapter 2 Flash Gordon.

A Prime All Might x Reader Fic

A week had passed since you had picked up your DVD of the original Batman movie. You sit huddled again on your couch, watching Adam West fluster around in his underwear-clad superhero suit, a comically large, paper mâché bomb held high above his head. He dodges nuns, a baby carriage, a marching band Then turns tail towards the sea, a flock of (clearly not wooden) ducks bob below. He looks around, exasperated.

“Some days you just can’t get rid of a bomb!” you say together with Mr. West. You smile.

You glance over to the lone DVD placed neatly on your shelf. Flash Gordon. You had reasoned that when you had first left the second-hand DVD shop that you had accidentally grabbed his DVD instead of your own. He must have totally forgotten to trade it with you when he brought you yours.

Several times you thought about bringing his DVD back to him, but you hadn’t seen him since. You had tucked yourself away, back to the comfort and safety of your apartment as if nothing had happened.

But still, the gentle yet strong laughter of his flitted through your thoughts. Maybe if you went back to the DVD store and left it there for him…no…you couldn’t bear seeing that cashier again. What if you waited on the spot where you had met—ridiculous as if he’d come back to that spot for no reason. You snort at your own train of thought, maybe a “Lost and Found” poster reading, “Found. One of the most gaudy, over-acted movies ever made (otherwise known as Flash Gordon), seeking ridiculously tall blonde to pick it up.”

Your phone buzzes.

You pick up the glowing screen and see it’s a text from your younger sister, Louise.

Not long ago, your sister had gone to New York, working there as a design artist for a new small-scale company that was making suits for heroes. Pride blossomed in your chest at the memory, she was incredibly talented and was definitely going places in life. You unlock your phone and read the message:

L: Hey you. What are you up to? 😊

You type back.

Saving the world, as usual. Just kidding. Still here. What about you?

In the blink of an eye she responds.

L: We have a new client! She’s so cool, her quirk gives her cat-like abilities and features, so I gotta work around those, designing this one will be SOOO much fun!!!! :0

Another few seconds.

L: …you know, I miss you a lot. I worry about you too. ☹

You bite your lip.

L: I know you’ve been going through a lot, the anxiety, depression, and stuff but…you need to get out of there. Go places. Meet people.

You type back.

Yeah. I wish I could. But I can’t.

Tears well up in your eyes. You feel so pitiful the way you are now. You put your phone down, ready to fall back into another pit of depression when it buzzes again.

L: I’ve got it! Why don’t you come and live with me here in New York?!

Your eyes widen.

What?! Really?!

L: No ur too much of a nerd LOL. Yeah of course you dummy! Just think of it!! The two of us, sharing a flat, taking on the big apple. We party! We geek out! Maybe you get out to the streets and meet a handsome stranger? ;)

You roll your eyes but a smile paints your face. Your heart thrums with excitement, But…

Then the usual feeling of intense dread takes over. New York is a massive city. With lots of noise and smell and worst of all…People. Even with your sister at your side you would be terrified, and you knew that all too well. Too many eyes watching you, too many heartbeats in one place.

Too many unsaid thoughts for you to accidentally pick up.

You shiver, the corners of your mind returning to that sickeningly familiar static. You try to breathe. Your thumb hovers over the keypad of your phone.

I can’t do it, it’s too much. It’s not like can afford it anyway.

You put down your phone. The screen glows again but you don’t read your sister’s reply. You curl yourself up into a ball on your couch. Coward. Stupid. Worthless. Pathetic. You feel your insides get tense, you clench your teeth. You taste salt on your lips as your eyes drip. You lay there and let yourself cry in silence for a long time.

You take a deep breath and wipe your damp face with your shirt.

You need…something.

You will yourself hard enough that you stand up. You grab a clean pair of socks, your shoes, your purse. You head towards your front door when you stop. You turn to look at the shelf and the lonely DVD sitting there. The memory of reassuring laughter fills your mind. You shove the DVD in your purse and walk outside.

The day is sweltering, once again but you know you have to be outside to tame your feelings. You don’t know where you are going so you wander around, past the neighborhood park with its scalding metal slide and rusty swings. All empty. You stop at the drinking fountain for a sip of room temperature water before wiping your face with your sleeve and moving on. You walk through a small cul-de-sac. The lawns vacant of all life except for a lawn gnome or two. A dog barks. Flies buzz around the trashcans set out for pick up. You walk. You’re already parched again. Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth. A cold soda sounds pretty good. There’s a gas station across the road.

You look both ways and step off to cross the street when everything seems to move both faster than the eye and slow motion at once.

The screeching of tires. The stench of burned rubber. The crunching of a bumper plate.

You cover your head with your hands, unable to put together a final thought when…

It stops.

You look up, confused when you see a long blue cape flutter around you. An impossibly tall man—no—hero stands between you and the vehicle that had nearly made you roadkill. His hands made massive dents in the front of the red convertible…he had stopped it with his bare hands and stood like it was nothing at all. He glances down at you with a familiar smile.

“Are you quite alright?”

You nod wordlessly.

He drops the car with a heavy clang, the two occupants shrieking in surprise.

“I think you’ve had quite enough of the joyride, you two. First my best friend’s car and now you nearly crushed this young lady. Turn yourselves in peacefully and no one will get hurt.”

The woman at the wheel has rat-like features, long teeth and whiskers, only made less attractive as she spits at the pavement before grabbing the man next to her, hopping out of the car and running for it.

The hero turns to pursue the two of them when the man lifted what looked like a remote detonator with his hand. The hero skids to a stop, instantly putting together the situation before leaping back towards you.

“GET DOWN.”

No sooner had he reached you then the car exploded, rattling the earth beneath your feet and shocking your eardrums. You carefully opened your eyes, finding that the hero had grasped you and tumbled you both over to the sidewalk. He has you cradled in his muscular arms, you feel his chest rise and fall once. He carefully unwraps you from his cape before dusting the debris from his shoulders and his V shaped bangs.

“Today isn’t turning out how you planned, I can imagine.” He says with a laugh.

Everything clicks.

He’s the same man you ran into that day at the DVD store.

You swallow hard and reach for your purse “I, uh—”

“Sorry, miss, but those two criminals are not far and I have to put a stop to this madness. We can talk later.” He turns and looks around, searching the area.

Your mouth opens and shuts like a fish.

The only building nearby is the gas station. He rushes in and you hear a loud clattering and a woman’s shout. You can’t help but get closer. You peer inside and see the fluorescent lights flicker. The hero stands silent. Listening. The floor erupts beneath him and he flips out of the way. Out from the earth comes the rat-faced woman, she had used her claws to dig underground. She swipes at his face, he dodges, yet his cheek gets sliced in the process. He sweeps his leg under her, knocking her off balance and she falls. He takes the opportunity and pounces on top of her, pinning her arms behind her back. In the flickering lights you see him pull out a pair of handcuffs.

The two of them walk out the still working sliding door of the gas station. The woman grimaces at you, her lip swollen and split from her fall.

The hero stares her down, an intensity to his ever-present smile. “I will find your accomplice, Ms. Johnson, either now or later. Tell me where he is and it’ll be better for the both of you.”

Suddenly static crackled in your head once again, causing your head to throb. You looked around. It was neither the woman nor the hero.

A piece of cloth came down from an air vent behind the two of them.

“—Bastard”

“BEHIND YOU!” you shout.

He hero spun around in a split second, his hand grasping the cloth in his hand as it wriggles with a life of its own. He tugs and the air vent brakes with a sharp twang, a pile of what looked like bandages fell to the ground.

“There you are, Mr. Threadborne.” The hero says as he pulls him closer with a jerk.

The pile of bandages comes to life and wraps itself together in the shape of a man. He snarls at the hero before offering his hands in defeat. The hero puts him in another pair of cuffs, one, you noticed, has a different design than the woman’s.

“Gauze Threadborne and Prairie Johnson, how lucky can a guy be to catch both you villains at once?” he laughs heartily.

He glances down at you, looking like he has something to say when you both hear sirens approaching. A pair of police cars swerve into the gas station. Four officers walk out and greet the hero before he explains the situation.

“These two were driving down this street, speeding in a stolen car, as usual when they nearly ran into this young lady. Luckily, I arrived on time to stop them. They unfortunately made a brief escape, taking advantage of a remote detonator that was held next to the engine of the stolen car. I tailed them to this gas station, the man employed here escaped without issue. We fought, and, thanks to this young lady, I was able to apprehend them both.”

The manner in which he says all this sounds much more professional than how he had spoken to you before.

The ratty woman, Prairie, screeches, cutting through their conversation. “I ain’t gettin’ inside that clunker, ‘specially not without my baby cakes in there with me!”

“Oh, sweetie pie don’t you fret,” coos the bandage man, Gauze. “We gon’ be together soon enough, don’t you worry your pretty little head.” He turns to the hero “…an’ when we get on the streets again, I’m gunna show this prick that was no way to treat my girl.” He hisses, his hollow eyes staring daggers.

The hero, meanwhile, looks totally oblivious to his threat. He smiles pleasantly at the police officer as he shakes his hand.

“Thanks for your help, All Might.” The officer says, adjusting his cap before climbing into his car. The officers take the criminals and speed off just as fast as they came.

The hero, apparently named All Might, peers down at you with a question in his bright blue eyes. You clear your throat once more.

“I-I um, think this is yours.” You hand him his copy of Flash Gordon.

This was going to be longer but, I think this is an ok length. Don’t wanna overdo it!

~Entro-pie

#my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #all might x reader #all might #prime all might #toshinori yagi x reader #toshinori yagi #Every Road Home

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miguels-talons · 6 years

Text

The Meeting

This is the first one shot of the possible original series called “The King and the War Administrator” ;)

Hey look I’m posting an original idea and story I share with @floofybubblez wowie it’s not a fanfic.... actually yeah technically it is but whatever none of yall gonna understand but yall dont gotta because its a cool idea anyone can read and I’m happy with how this came out so I hope ya’ll enjoy:

The metal clad fist of the soldier’s hand meets her cheek in a dazzle of bright and static light, sending her reeling and falling to the ground. She hardly catches herself, back bent as she peels herself back from the ground, placing a hand on her now throbbing cheek. She glares back up at the ugly faces of the soldiers now surrounding her, all grinning down at the courageous peasant girl. She blinks heavily, gritting her teeth together as she straightens back up.

“You think you’re allowed to speak back to the royal guards?” one of the men demand, moving forward and slapping a hand around the collar of her shirt. She digs her heels into the dusty cobble street as she’s yanked forward and as her face is drawn closer to the man’s she growls and spits in his face, grinning with a holey grin. She has lost many of her teeth throughout the years of low hygiene and being beaten on by many of the guards.

Her grin is quickly knocked from her face, however, as another of the guards kick her square in the gut, knocking the breath from her lungs. She hunches over, gripped at her stomach as she coughs up a loud of mucus- a terrible lung disease has been spreading throughout the lower rings of the kingdom, filling any it infects with large amounts of mucus. A handful of her hair is grabbed as fingernails dig into her scalp, forcing her head upwards. The girl she had rescued from the anger of the guards gasps as she sees this. But at least the girl was safe. She has always thought that the fellow peasant girl was pretty. She didn’t deserve to be beaten to a pulp like Terra was being currently.

“First we have to deal with a thieving rat, and now a stray mutt?” the man yells in her face, spit landing on her skin. She growls softly, already able to taste the blood in her mouth as it rises from the earlier punch. “Maybe we need to put this feral dog down, ey boys?”

Terra’s eyes widen and she yanks at her hair, ignoring how the roots of her hair tears at her scalp. But the man holds tight, throwing her to the ground and unsheathing his sword. He presses the blade to her throat and her breathing quickens. “Unless,” the fat, ugly man presses down on her back as he leans forward, wet and heavy breathing hitting the side of her face, “you can show me a good time.”

The peasant girl’s face twists into a sneer and she gathers enough blood and spit to once more projectile the horrid mixture into the guard’s face. He growls and the blade is just pressing into her neck further when: “What the hell are you doing?!”

All of the guards go stiff and the one on top of Terra quickly pushes up, turning to face a preteen, handsomely dressed boy standing nearby. Terra pushes herself up slightly with a hand, using the other to wipe at the blood and spit and mucus smearing around her lips. Her burning eyes land on the girl she had been protecting in the first place, smiling in relief to see she is unscatched aside for the slap she had received before hand on her cheek. It still twists Terra’s gut to see her hurt, however. She swallows heavily, eyes drifting to the newcomer.

The preteen isn’t much taller than Terra but she could clearly see he is of a higher position just because of his clothing; a long, red cape drapes over his shoulders, hanging around his feet. A light blue suit and dress pants is what he wears underneath, a golden necklace hanging around his neck. A few bracelets jangle around his wrists and he wears two pairs of jeweled earrings on both ears. His eyes are a lighting blue with light brown hair- poofed expertly- falling around them, framing his face. His eyes are currently narrowed into a glare and even though he has a soft face it is currently shaded with a terrifying anger. How could a child probably around her age look so intimidating, even to her? Especially to the guards, oddly enough.

“Y- your highness-” Terra’s eyes widen impossibly and her breath catches. Holy shit no way. There couldn’t possibly be royal blood in the Lower Slums. They never came down here because of the dirtiness of the section. “What are you doing here-?”

“That does not concern you!” the obvious prince interrupts, eyes narrowing further, lighting blue fading to a midnight sky. They darken even further as they land on Terra, taking in her appearance and they snap back to the guards. “Tell me, Brenner, why the hell are you beating a civilian to death?”

The guard, Brenner, swallows heavily, his eyebrows scrunching his fat face together. Terra pushes further against the ground, breathing heavily before spitting a large amount of blood from her mouth. “Well, your highness, you see,” he began, eyes flashing from Terra to the other peasant girl nearby, “this young woman tried stealing from us and then the other attacked us. We had no choice but to defend. She was aggressive.”

The prince’s eyes fill with disgust- Terra just doesn’t know for who. Her and the other peasants gathering around, or the guards trying to defend themselves. “Defend yourselves?” the prince demands and Terra is starting to like him more and more. “Against a child of my age? And what had the first been stealing, exactly?” he raises a hand when Brenner tries to answer, eyes landing on the peasant girl in question who appears to become squeamish under his gaze. “What were you stealing, exactly, milady?”

Terra is surprised that the prince would address such a lowly peasant in this fashion. She had figured all royal family to despise the lower subjects of their kingdoms.

The pretty peasant girl- even with a red hand marking her hand- swallows heavily and wets her lips nervously. She seems to have started shaking, terrified of answering incorrectly. So, once again, Terra decides to defend her. “She was ‘stealing’ the bread that she had just bought for her family,” Terra explained, once more gaining the attention of the prince as she makes air quotes around stealing. Because she hadn’t been stealing. She had rightfully bought the bread that was now ruined on the ground not too far off. “She had just bought the bread when the guards came over and tried to take it. I’m sorry for attacking them, but I couldn’t simply watch as they robbed her.”

Brenner seems outraged by Terra’s true story because he steps forward angrily. “The bitch lies!” he exclaimed, even though he has been treading on thin ice up until this point. The prince’s eyes don’t leave Terra’s face, however. He must be taken aback by how beaten she is, by the fact that she is still standing despite her face probably being broken in a few places. “Are you really going to believe a peasant over one of your own officers?”

The prince is silent for a few seconds as he meets Terra’s eyes. She doesn’t say anything more, knowing it would be useless to say anything more if the prince had already made his mind up. So, she stays silent, breathing heavily as she grips at her aching shoulder. He must see the truth in her eyes because he looks back at the guards, arms crossing over his chest.

“Yes, actually,” the prince finally answered, voice somehow so stern even Terra would obey- she is very rebellious. Her eyes widen and the pretty peasant girl gasps. Terra looks at the guards just as their mouths are falling open in shock. Everyone must be so shocked because Terra can feel the surprise filling the air around her. “Now, Brenner, I want you to get this peasant girl ten packages of bread. Then, you and your men are to report to the general. He and I will be having a word about your… punishment.” He looks back at Terra and reaches a gloved hand out to her in offering. She stares at it a moment, licking her split and bleeding lip. “Come with me. My maids will heal you.”

This confuses her; why would a prince want to take a lowly peasant? But, she wasn’t going to complain. She snatches the prince’s hand, letting him help her to her feet. She brushes herself off and glances at him through the corner of her eye. “I am Prince Bubbles,” he informed. “Though, you probably already knew that. You can call me Carter.” She is shocked that he is allowing her to use his first name. “What is your name, madame?”

“Terra,” she answered after swallowing down a ton of mucus, shivering as it slides back down her throat.

“Well, Terra,” Carter began, smirking widely. “I have a feeling that we’re going to make good friends.”

And what a pair they make.

____

Tell me what ya’ll think ;)

tagging people to feel validated tbh:

@damien-iplier

@i-am-a-fan

@the-host-will-answer

@alliedoesstuff

#mine #writing #original #original wiritng #original story #original character #middle age #dark ages #violence #asshole knights #the king and the war administrator

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captainoftherollyjoger · 7 years

Text

The Eye of the Storm: Chapter 2

Here it is! I apologise it’s out so late, I’ve been struck with a nasty cold. Hopefully the next chapters should come quicker. Hook and Emma get to meet on this one.

I didn’t get how to use FF, so I have signed up of ao3. I am really bad with technology, so hopefully I can get some stuff on ao3 soon!

Prologue : Chapter One

@teamhook, @elaine-spades, @kmomof4

Emma had been riding for three days. She had stopped at locals taverns to sleep, an issue with being friendly with the people is that she was often recognised, which was an issue when she was trying to go undercover. She wore riding leathers with a cloak, which she kept the hood up at all times. That would protect her slightly from prying eyes. The innkeepers promised they would keep her location secret, and she trusted them. Many had seen her grow from a young girl.

Emma was at a docks, she had sold her horse for a few gold coins, she was sad to see him go, but being a princess meant sacrifice.. She had to get to the Isle of Sapphires, that was where Hook was believed to be travelling from. The only issue was finding someone to take her on board. She could just sneak on board, or she could just hire a rowing boat, after all. The isle wasn’t that far away. She sat on the dock wall whilst she considered her options, she rooted through her satchel for some food. A person knocked her shoulder and her satchel fell to the floor with a clink. That didn’t sound good, she had quite a few gold coins in her satchel, it wasn’t good to go around showing off money in places like this.

“Sorry, dear.” Smiled a woman. The woman struck Emma as beautiful. She had black hair and caramel skin, her eyes were like midnight. She was wearing quite a revealing dress with the bodice partly undone. Emma wouldn’t be surprised if she got a lot of the men’s attentions around the port. “Clumsy me.” She picked up the satchel and handed it to Emma. “Better keep that safe.”

“Thanks, urm-”

“Wilma. My name is Wilma. What’s a pretty lady like you doing out here? Doesn’t seem like your kind of place. You don’t look like a gutter rat.”

“Oh, I’m just moving on. I’m a bit lost actually, I’m looking for someone to take me somewhere.” She didn’t want to reveal too much to a random stranger.

“Well, honey.” She smiled, sweetly. “Why don’t you join me, I work at that tavern down there. Maybe we can find someone to assist you.”

“Oh, thank you!” Emma smiled.

“What’s your name, honey?” Emma paused. She couldn’t reveal her true self, that moment she saw a swan pass by on the water.

“Swan. It’s Swan.”

The two women walked side by side, a few of the men whistled at Wilma as she walked past and shouted crude comments.

“How can you stand that?” Asked Emma, who was getting angrier by the second. “I don’t put up with it where I’m from.”

“They’re just drunk and desperate. Most of them are regulars at the tavern and I just have to put up with it. It’s business.” They arrived at the tavern and walked in. Wilma was greeted kindly by a couple of men and she gave them all cheek kisses. A few women were with the men as well. Emma was introduced and the women all made her feel welcome. Most of the women were bar wenches and prostitutes, Emma had learned. They were nice enough to her and the innkeeper offered her a bed. She wasn’t known in these parts which she was glad for.

Emma had a nice hot meal, a warm bath, and then she rested on the hard bed. It was the best she would have for a while, so she wasn’t complaining. Emma was exhausted. She had been drinking with the men and the women for a short while, they seemed to enjoy her company. Finally she managed to drift to sleep.

Emma was startled awake in the night. It was still pitch black, she immediately reached for the dagger at the side of her bed. She saw shadows dancing around the room. Then she felt a hand over her mouth.

“Swan, shhh. It’s me, Wilma. Pirates are attacking, we have to go. Get your stuff. I know how to sneak out the back way.” Emma nodded and was released. She quietly gathered all her belongings and followed Wilma out the tavern. They ran together down the back road. Emma was faster than her partner. She heard an almighty scream.

“Emma! Help me!” Wilma had been caught and was struggling against three men. “Emma, behind you!” The next thing Emma saw was darkness. She had been drugged and carried off.

“Isn’t she pretty?”

“I think the captain would like this catch.”

“Bad luck for a blonde to be on board if you ask me.”

“No one did ask you, Fredrick, shut your mouth.”

“How do you even know she’s blonde? Her head is under a bag!”

“Because I was one of the one’s who caught her. Idiot.”

“Whoever got this one is going to be in the captain’s favour.”

“The captain favours no one. If you don’t know that by now, you’re on the wrong ship.”

Emma woke to men’s voices. Captain? Where was she? Was Wilma okay? She still couldn’t see, but her eyes were open. Her legs were bound as were her arms. She felt rope around her stomach and she was tied to something. She was sat upright, that much she could work out. Emma felt someone grab the cover from her head and they ripped out some hair along with it. She winced but tried not to show her pain. She heard all the men cheer and laugh, but there was a higher pitch of laughing. When Emma’s eyes adjusted to the light, she noticed she was surrounded by women as well as men, it was the women from the tavern. Their dresses had been exchanged for more practical wear, most were in leather pants with shirts and waistcoats, quite like her.

“She’s awake! Hello, pretty.” She could smell the stench of the man’s breath. She closed her eyes and pulled away. He was right next to her. “What do ya say lads? Think the captain is gonna like this one?”

“We all know that’s not how the Captain works.” Shouted one of the women. “We all know he doesn’t need to capture a woman to bed her.” The women cheered. “Get away from her, dog.” The woman booted him. She had red hair and a fire to her, Emma could tell.

“Sounds like you’re jealous. Do you want the Captain all to yourself?” The man teased. Her sword was out and against his throat before he could even react.

“The Captain doesn’t have relationships with his crew, you best remember that before he has more than a word with you himself.” She nicked the man’s neck and he winced.

“Fine. Get off.” He grumbled.

Emma noticed the women on the ship weren’t afraid of standing up for themselves. She also noticed Wilma was nowhere to be seen. Had she got free?

“Where’s the Captain, doesn’t he want to see the beauty we got him?” Asked one member of the crew.

“The captain isn’t even interested in her, she’s for our entertainment.” Said a woman. Entertainment? “Get the first mate!”

A door opened and the entire crew went silent. She heard boots strike the deck, her eyes were still adjusting and the sun glared in her eyes.

“The Captain told you all to hurry up with your little game. He’s got work to do, he doesn’t want to have to come up here himself.” The first mate was a woman. She recognised the voice. Wilma. The woman came into her view, her hair was down at her shoulders and she had a sword at her side, along with a red bandana.

“Wilma?”

“How dare you! It’s Smee.” Wilma Smee? The famous W. Smee was a woman?

“You betrayed me!”

“Oh, honey. Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to trust complete strangers?”

“Can we get on with it?” Shouted a man. The next thing Emma knew the man was bleeding. Her dagger had skimmed his skin as a warning. “Sorry, Ma’am.”

“Swan. Welcome to the Jolly Roger.”

“The Jolly Roger? Hook’s ship?” She gasped.

“Captain!” The whole boat chimed.

“Quiet! It’s Captain Hook. We have some rules on this ship. If you get captured, you get a chance of becoming free to serve. All you have to do is pick any one of the crew to fight. You kill them, you take their place.” She knelt down and smiled at her, she moved a stray piece of hair and Emma spat at her. “She’s certainly got fire this one, mates!” She laughed wiping her face. “Are you going to take the challenge or not?”

“Fine. Is it a fair fight?”

“Both get swords. No outside help, the crew won’t cheat. They prefer the entertainment. It’s a win-win situation, they get to see a death either way and they get to keep their friend or gain a new mate.” Explained Wilma.

“Okay. I challenge Captain Hook.”

The entire crew went silent. They all looked at each other, no one had ever done that before. Smee stepped back and looked at the captain’s door which led to his cabin. At the best of times Hook didn’t like their childish games, but dealt with them. She would pay for including him in one.

The silence lasted a minute longer until they heard his boots on the steps. His door opened and all the crew turned away. Emma didn’t. His looks struck her. He had dark short hair, it was thick but well kept. He was quite pale, she noticed next. He clearly didn’t spend much time on deck. His stubble dusted his cheeks. He wore leather pants with a black shirt, he had a black waistcoat on which looked like velvet. What Emma really noticed was his huge leather coat, it went down to his knees, he couldn’t be cold on a day like this. His sword hung at his side. Then she noticed his moniker. His hook. She looked at it then up at him. He had a grin on his face, which she wasn’t expecting. It was definitely not friendly, she realised that quickly.

“We didn’t mean to disturb you, Capt’n.” Said Smee.

“Shut up.” He waved his hand and she did. “What have we here?” The entire crew was frozen still, not knowing how he would react. He squatted down right in front of her, a sinister grin still on his face. He kept his head above hers to show his authority but he looked down into her eyes. His eyes were a deep blue, her father was right, she could have drowned in them, she noticed the glint of joy he had in causing fear. She had to admit it, she was terrified. A fierce pirate captain was towering above her and she was about to fight him. There was something else in his eyes, a hint of brokenness. She didn’t have time to think about it, he was speaking again. “Mmm, you are quite a pretty one, aren’t you.” He bit his bottom lip and cocked his head to the side. He leant his head towards her ear, his stubble scratched her cheek. “Shame our paths didn’t cross somewhere else.” She heard the innuendo in his voice.

“You’re disgusting.” She heard him laugh in her ear.

“Most women don’t think so.”

“Most women probably aren’t tied up when they’re talking to you.” She spat. His eyes glinted with innuendo again.

“You’d be surprised. In fairness to you though, they’re tied up voluntarily.” He smirked. Emma did not want or need to know that. “Don’t you like being tied up, love?”

“I’m not your ‘love’. Is there a reason you’re stalling? Too scared to fight me?”

“Ooo, hear that mates?” They all started relaxing and chimed in. “Captain Hook? Scared? Hardly.” He untied her, then stood up. “She’s got a bit of gumption this one, why aren’t you lot like her?” He asked, looking at his crew disappointed. “We need a bit of fresh blood on this ship, such a shame you’re gonna die in a minute.” He laughed. He threw at sword at her feet, she picked it and herself up off the floor.

“You always this cocky?” She asked. He smiled, had she impressed him?

“Just self-assured.” He took coat off and tossed it to Smee, who was looking angrily at Emma. “Now, enough talking. I prefer actions over words.” He unsheathed his sword and they hit them together as a starter. Immediately he was on the offense, he smashed his sword onto her and she pushed him off. He was testing her out. Her footwork was good he realised. Their swords came together and soon she wasn’t just defending herself, but giving as good as she got. He went to kick her, until she grabbed his leg and tripped him onto his back. He went down with a thud and the crew gasped. No one had got him like that before, she stood over him. She put the sword to his neck.

“I’ve fought much bigger than you, Captain.” He laughed at her and rested his head on the floor.

“I think you just wanted me on my back, I prefer it the other way around, but after all I’m not fussy.” She rolled her eyes at him and he tripped her and pushed her down. “That’s much better. Ready to die, love?” He had his sword at her neck. He felt a sharp point at his abdomen.

“I wouldn’t go too far, Captain.” He looked down and a dagger was at his stomach.

“You cheated.”

“You’re a pirate, you get that, right?” He looked annoyed but impressed at the same time. She had the chance to drive the dagger into his gut, why wasn’t she? He had intrigued her. One push of her hand and her quest would be complete, but she didn’t want it to be. “Now, are we going to come to an agreement?”

“Both our lives spared, you work for me.”

“Deal.”

Hook got up and left Emma on the floor. The crew cheered, they had a new crew member and a safe captain.

“What’s your name?” He asked, looking down at her.

“It’s Swan.”

“Peculiar. That’s not it. But, who am I to judge? Welcome aboard the Jolly Roger, Swan.” He put his sword back and took his coat off Smee. “Now, get scrubbing the decks. All of you back to work! You’ve had your fun, I don’t want anymore unnecessary noise. Understood?”

“Aye, capt’n.” They all shouted.

Hook was back in his cabin. He had Emma’s satchel on his desk, he emptied it’s contents onto his table. Quite a lot of gold, how had she acquired so much? She was good at fighting, maybe she was a mercenary. A few scraps of food. She also had a sleeping bag on her. She travelled light. She had a book with her, just fiction. She was educated. This Swan woman certainly confused him. She had humiliated him in front of his crew by defeating him, she had cheated. He hadn’t been one step ahead in that respect.

Knock, knock.

“Enter.” He commanded. It was Smee. “Smee? What do you want?” There was never a smile for Smee, she didn’t know what she did wrong. He never seemed impressed with her. Not like he seemed to be impressed with Swan.

“Is it really smart having this woman on board, she nearly killed you.”

“Are you questioning my orders, Smee?”

“No, sir. I just think, maybe she’s not the best person to trust.” She stuttered. Hook ignored her and turned to the window.

“She’s the kind of woman you want on your side, you saw how she fought. Have you ever seen better?” He asked.

“No-”

“So, why isn’t she good enough to be aboard this ship?”

“Killian, I didn’t-”

“Killian?” He shot round, his eyes lit with fury. “Who the hell do you think you are, calling me Killian! It’s captain! You understand?” His hand was at her throat, she was grabbing for him to let go. She nodded and water streamed from her eyes. He let her go and she coughed.

“Sorry, sir.”

“Get out of my sight.” He barked. She nodded and scuttled out of the room. “Rat.” He muttered.

#cs ff #captain swan #killian jones #emma swan #cs fanfic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #dark hook

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chaisewriting-blog · 6 years

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Chapter 4

Willow walks along with a large group of the Twilightclan cats, and Slatepaw beside her was all jazzed up for the gathering, the sun was going down fast with a full moon soon taking it’s place, only a few clouds hid the light that shines brightly off of it. She didn’t try to look at the cats to her left side but she know they were looking at her, they were not happy when their leader announced that the loner was going to their sacred meeting. Lucky for Willow they respected Dawnstar’s decision to the point where they won’t attack her but not enough where they’re going to make her feel welcome. “Willow aren’t you exceeded?” Willow looks to the bright ginger tom, he’s face depicts some worry, “Ya, just nerves.” As she finished speaking she picked up a sense of a horrible, mixed smell of dirty water and rotten moss, there was a slit hint of grass but it didn’t help. Slatepaw notices her scrunched up face and through it was funny, “Looks like you just experienced the terrible smell of Breezeclan, there territory is part swamp and sadly that’s part we have to tolerate every gathering.” In the distance, she could see a pile of large rocks, “Those rocks are called Tall Stones, the leaders of the clans and pack stands on them to tell their news.”

“Why do they need to be so high up?” Slatepaw shrugged, “To make sure everyone can hear them,” Willow didn’t think that the answer, as they entered she noticed that there were cats already in the grassy clearing, which must have been Breezeclan, the cats looked scared for a moment while the Twilightclan cat came through, but they calmed down not long after. “What was that about? Why were they scared?” A voice came from behind, “They fear Twilightclan, something that all cats and dogs should be scared of. Especially loners and kittypets.” Willow turns to find a ginger tom with jet black stripes, he was big but no where near Eelfang’s size. “And it’s a good thing that your kittypet friend isn’t here, all these wild cats would have ripped her to shreds, hopefully you’ll be alright.” He deepen he voice to try to sound more threatening but ended up being scratchy that sounded painfully.

“Tigerscar!” She remembers that voice as Scarletfire, Willow realize that the bright red she-cat was to her side, “Stop trying to scare her or you can walk back to camp.” Tigerscar just gave a annoyed look with a little hiss, then walks away, she faces Willow with a friendly look, “Sorry about that Willow, Tigerscar alway tried too hard to scare cats new to the gathering.” Dawnstar walks over to them, “Come on Scarletfire, Whitestar and Mintleaf are waiting on us and I want to introduce them to my newest deputy to them.” They both left them behind, Willow moved towards the center with Slatepaw leading her, “So, when does this whole thing start?” He looks at her, “Well, first Sunpack still has to arrive, but besides that we begin when the moon is at its highest.”

“H-Hey.” Willow jumped in surprise, “I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean to scare you.” She turns to meet a small, sleek, beautiful black she-cat with sliver paws, “My name is Sliverpaw, it’s my first time here and-” She looks away in nervousness and sits with rapped her tail around her paws. Slatepaw spoke up, “Hey its okay, I was shy at my first gathering too.” Something in Willow made her think that he was lying, Slatepaw and being shy didn’t really go together. “It’s Willow’s first time here also.” Sliverpaw looks confused, “Willow? Not Willowpaw”

“Its a long story, Dawnstar will probably say something about it.” Slatepaw announced, Willow didn’t like being talked about like she wasn’t here but for some reason she couldn’t find her voice, all the cats around made her speechless. She then notices movement on the far side of the gathering place, they were dogs, they must be Sunpack she keeps hearing about. One of the younger dogs in the group walks towards them, he was a large light gray male with a white underbelly and paws. “Slatepaw? You’re finally back.” He said coming closer to the small group. “Lupus! Awesome to see you again!” Lupus set his dark green eyes on the two she-cats, “Who are you two? Slatepaw’s mates?” He jokingly stated, Slatepaw widened his eyes and folded his ears in embarrassment. “No! Their not!” He used his tail to tip Sliverpaw’s shoulder, “This is Sliverpaw, She’s from Breezeclan.” He looks to Willow, “ And this is Willow, a guest of Twilightclan.” Lupus confuse come on the moment the word guest popped out of Slatepaw’s mouth. “Guest? What do you mean?” Slatepaw was ready to speak once more before he was interrupted be the calling of the leaders for the crowd’s attention. “All cats and dogs, Listen as the gathering begin.” Willow turned to Tall Stones to see a long haired tom with fur so pure white he would have stood out even in the darkest of nights. As the crowd turned their attention to the three leaders, he uses he’s tail to signal Dawnstar to gave her news, “Thank you, Whitestar.” She nods her thanks to him while he goes to his place on the boulder as she move to the edge of the large stones, “I would like to start off this gathering with introducing my clan’s new deputy, Scarletfire.” She announced with a hinted purr in her voice, “But this also means that my last deputy, Nightfall, died from infection of some rat bites, are medicine cats did their best but Starclan has a new member in their forest. But Scarletfire already showed that she is a great replacement. We also have a new warrior, Gingerleaf.” As she finished her words the crowd cheers for the she-cat’s new positions, mostly from Twilightclan cats. “Twilightclan also brought in two cats into are clan as guest, one of them is even in the crowd.” Willow noticed same eyes fall on her, some in anger and other’s in confusion, both made her want to run and hide. Sunpack’s leader faced Dawnstar, “What were you thanking! Bring a outsider to the gathering!” He asked in anger, Whitestar faced her way, “Are they going to join your clan?”

“They can but I’m not forcing them to, and giving them time for one of them to recover.” Dawnstar looked to Willow like she just made her a offer, Willow just nods to her in understanding. Dawnstar just goes to the other leaders, Willow last heard the dark tabby leader pasting the gathering ears to the pack’s alpha until she felt a warm gaze set on her, she looked around to see where it’s coming from but for once no one was looking at her, which made her happy but weirded out for she knew some one or something was staring at her. She then looked at single branch with something large on it, to big to be anything that could lives in it, but as she tried to focus on it, it ran off clearly wanting to be seen by her. She looked to Slatepaw, he was wide eyes to the leaders like a kit with a new story and realize this is twice she compared him with one. “Hey Slatepaw, did you see what was in that tree?” She whispered, “Willow I’m trying to listen.” He whispered in annoyance, she should have seen that coming, not able to do anything for the time being just listen to the rest of the gathering, she then realized that she missed the alpha’s pack news and Whitestar started with his. “I would like to announce that Breezeclan is finally fully recovered, thanks to the help of Twilightclan and Sunpack. We also have two new warriors, Mousefang and Woolwhisker, and made Sliverpaw and Firepaw are newest apprentices.” He gives a friendly nod to the leaders and they nod back with the large group cheering. “Now I realized it took longer then I thought to get back on are feet but I guess Thornstar and his gang took a lot more out of Breezeclan then me or Mintleaf could imagine.” At the mention of the name Thornstar the crowd want silent, Willow was confused by this. As she looked around the cats and even the dogs were wearing a expression sadness, fear or a mixture of both. What was making them so scared? Thornstar? His gang? Dawnstar stood to face him with anger in her green eyes and her voice struggling to remain calm, “Whitestar, you know we all agreed that we would never mention that cat ever again.” Whitestar flatten he’s ear, while the alpha stepped towards her, “Dawnstar, calm down, you’re just mad that it was your clan that helped them, it’s just good thing you had me and my dogs.” He was a Twilightclan cat? He must have been here recently because Sliverpaw, a newly apprenticed kit looked terrified out of her mind, something no elder’s tale can bring out. Was he the thing that made Willow’s mother leave the clan? The Twilightclan cats hiss out in anger, even joined by some of Breezeclan but all of Sunpack stayed quiet, even Lupus. “Alpha! For the last time me and my clan had to do or it would have gone against the code we’re just luckily that part of the code is gone now.” Alpha just rolled his eyes, “There you cats go again with that silly warrior’s code, don’t you realize because of that code it gave us that murder in the first place.” The hisses just grow louder, there were some call outs of the crowded but mostly from Twilightclan, “No, it was Wavestar who made him deputy!” She saw the voice coming from one of the clan’s elders. “Ya! It isn’t are fault! We were just as stuck as anyone else!” She know that she-cat’s hiss anywhere, Ambercloud, one of the cats who were vocal about Willow’s apparent at the gathering. “Enough!” Whitestar called out in anger, “The important thing is it’s over and Breezeclan is back to full strength!” He looks to the leaders, “And let me make this clear to everyone, we’re not going to be afraid to show it!” As he jumped down from Tall Stones, Breezeclan meowed in support of the their leader’s statement. “Breezeclan! Let’s head home, this gathering is over.” Sliverpaw gives her good-byes and heads back to her clan, as Lupus did the same. But Willow just stared at the same tree top that she spotted the large creature in, Slatepaw trotted to her, “Come on Willow, the clan is starting to group up and leave.” Willow couldn’t leave until she fines out what that was, “Slatepaw, I’ll catch up with you guy’s later, I’m going to see what that tree creature was.” He just a face of worry, “But what if you got lost or attacked by something horrible!” Willow just rolled her eyes and started to walk away, “I’ll see you later.” Not a moment later the white spotted tom ran in front of her, “Slatepaw!”

“What? I can’t let you go alone.” He stated proudly.

Willow and Slatepaw walked through woods just outside Twilightclan territory, clouds started to roll in and the smell of rain in the air, she wondered if this tiny trip was a mouse-brained idea, her paws were starting to hurt and she could bet Slatepaw felt the same way. She also wondering if her imagination just acting up, then Slatepaw jumped up and landed in a attack position with he's fur standing on end, he quickly looks behind him. “Slatepaw!? What wrong?” Willow asked with a nerves voice, “I-I don’t know! Something or someone tapped me on the tip of my tail, like if a kit was playing with it! A big kit.”

“Maybe you brushed it against a low hanging branch or vines.” Slatepaw just shakes his head, his amber eyes were fearful. Willow then felt something tap on her tail tip, which made her jump and pulled her tail close to her. “You too?” He asked, she nods. “Hey! Who’s out there!” The bright tom shouted, “ Come out!” Willow didn’t want the thing messing with them to show it’s self. “Slatepaw we should go, now.”

“Wait, wait. I’m coming out.” Willow and Slatepaw heard a tom’s voice and look the direction it came from, a white tom suddenly appeared out of no where from in front a boulder, Willow was shocked by the tom. Slatepaw moved in front of her, but she quickly moved to his right side, “Hello, I’m the Shadow Warrior, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Slatepaw gave him a wide eye stare and mouth open, “No way. the Shadow Warrior!” She looks at him, “You know this cat?” He nods his head in excitement, “The elder’s tell his stores all the time!” He mewed in happiness, the white tom moved to them Willow walked back from him while her friend just keep staring at him. “Don’t worry Willow, I’m not here to hurt you.” He said a calm tone. “Ho-how do you know my name?” She shakily asked, he sits down and rapped his tail around his paws, “Starclan has sent me to find you, it’s a good thing you saw me on the tree top.”

“Great, what does Starclan want me?” Willow was already going to join the clan, what else did they want? He gives her a smile, “They want me to mentor you.”

#Warrior Cats #warriorcats #warriors fandom #warriorsfanfic #story

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