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kyeungsoo · 4 years

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a head full of dreams.

× pairings: byun baekhyn + reader

× genres/warnings: soulmate au—where when you dream of your soulmate, you can see the world/their day through their eyes, college au, barista au!!, fluff, it’s not chanyeol’s fault he’s tall and handsome ://

× notes: yes, i like soulmate aus. no i do not believe in real life predetermined soulmates. yes we exist <3

Baekhyun isn’t actively looking for his soulmate, but he’s not not looking, either.

He knows that it’s completely normal to not have found his soulmate by his current age. That many, many students and professors alike on campus were still soulmate-less. He knows he shouldn’t care that much about finding you—that he’ll meet his soulmate when the time is right and the stars align and all that good shit. But coping with that is so much easier said than done. Especially since he’s quite literally been dreaming of you since he was ten.

Not to mention that the majority of his friends have already found their soulmates, too. He’s happy for them, of course. It’s nothing short of incredible to see just how perfect their partners are for them, how seamlessly they fit into their lives. Hand-picked; their exact other halves.

He remembers when Kyungsoo first started dreaming of his soulmate. Kyungsoo had just turned eight, and called his best friend (with his parents’ permission, of course, like the good-mannered boy he was) in a frenzy, voice frazzled and loud—extremely uncharacteristic of himself. And Baekhyun listened to every detail; not just that first night, but every time Kyungsoo indulged him for the next six years.

Kyungsoo’s one of the lucky ones, Baekhyun thinks. To have had his first dream that young, to have found his soulmate in middle school, to have known them for the majority of his life. Baekhyun’s a little jealous, sure, but he knows Kyungsoo deserves it. If anyone deserves to have that kind of luck, it’s definitely Kyungsoo.

So, overall, he’s happy for Soo; and for all his friends who have already found their soulmates. But, it does get a little tiring, disheartening at times—sometimes, even leaves a bitter taste in his mouth—to know that he hasn’t found his person yet.

He’s gotten really good at dreaming, though. Which shouldn’t be all that surprising, since he’s only had the last decade to practice, but, still Baekhyun prides himself on a bit. It’s nice to know that he can see you—or, rather, see as you—when he wants to.

The science of soulmate dreaming isn’t exact.

Generally, what’s seen is a sort of playback of your soulmate’s day. Somewhat of a fragmented, first person movie going on in your head. There are a few caveats, though. There’s usually no revelation of your soulmate’s face, and no indication of their voice—of anybody’s voices really. And it’s worth noting that the dreams are replays of their memories of how their day went; and a single person’s memory isn’t exact to begin with.

Which is usually why it’s not a full play-by-play of their day from wake to rest. Usually they’re scenes strung together. Nobody knows exactly how the images are picked, or what they mean for you or your soulmate. Some psychologists theorize that you see the parts of your soulmate’s day that were most memorable to them; others think it might be the happiest moments; others, the darkest. But everyone has different experiences, different ratios of the kind of scenes they see and the emotions they provoke; so there’s really no way to calculate it.

People usually start dreaming when they reach middle school. There are, of course, exceptions to the rule. Those who have their first dream younger than that age, like Kyungsoo; and those who don’t start dreaming until well after they’ve graduated college.

Regardless of when you have your first dream, there’s still no guarantee that you’ll have them every night after that. Like everything else about it, there’s no magic number, no statistic to it, no predictable pattern; no way to know for sure when the dreams will happen.

But, it is known that a few people can focus their minds on their soulmates. Almost command their subconscious to dream of their partners by their own will.

The dreams still aren’t exact—you can’t go as far as to perfect your soulmate’s memory—but it does allow some kind of control, and comfort even. If you’re observant, you can learn a lot about your soulmate through dreams. Their hobbies, what they like to eat, who they live with, where they live. More importantly, how they see the world. And the little things add up over time.

Some people, if they’re really, really lucky, can even even see their soulmates current point of view; quite literally see the world as it is through their eyes. It’s rare—less than a percent or so report the ability. Baekhyun is a part of that less than one percent.

So, yeah, he’s gotten really good at dreaming of you. It’s not easy—seeing your current point of view—and he can’t even do it every time that he tries; but, if he focuses hard enough, clears his mind enough, it’s possible. Sometimes, he wonders if you can, too. He hopes that you can. It makes him feel that much more connected to you.

Exhausted from morning classes and last round of midterms, Baekhyun’s hoping today is one of those days where he gets to see things the way you do. It’s always nice to get a little reminder that you’re out there—that you see the world as a little brighter than he does on days where he’s feeling down.

So, Baekhyun drags himself through his apartment, barely mustering up the energy to greet Kyungsoo as he passes by him in the living room, before plopping down on his bed. It’s only midday so, if he can’t close his eyes to see you right now, hopefully he can if he takes a nap.

Baekhyun shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. Gently, he brings palms to massage against his closed eyelids. He steadies his breathing, clears his mind of anything but you, and hopes—prays—for the best.

Everything is black for a bit, but then, there you are. Well—not you, exactly, but your life. First, the picture is fuzzy, but Baekhyun makes out that you must be at work. He sees your hands maneuvering around espresso machines, pouring milk into ceramic mugs, sprinkling cinnamon on top of latte art.

Then, strangely enough, he sees Chanyeol.

Baekhyu bolts upwards, eyes wide and eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He shakes his head repeatedly, even knocks his hand against ear for good measure, before laying back down and shutting his eyelids again.

But, no, Chanyeol is still there.

Confused, he opens his eyes again, slowing trying to piece things together. But when it clicks, it clicks. Hard.

Frantic, Baekhyun jumps off the bed and immediately scrambles through his jacket pockets in search of his phone, scrolling wildly to find Chanyeol’s contact. The phone rings all too slowly, and Baekhyun all but screeches incoherently when his friend finally picks up.

“Do you have actual words to say me, or are you just going to screech like a hyena?” Chanyeol questions, cautiously holding the receiver away from his ear on the other end of the line.

But Baekhyun is too off the walls, too excited to register the sarcasm in his words. “My soulmate! Chanyeol, she was your barista! You—was she—you have to tell me how she was and where she works and—”

“No way, that’s great, Baek!” Chanyeol chirps, “Do you want me to get her number for you? I’m pretty sure—”

“No!” Baekhyun shouts, almost falling over his backpack in the process. Kyungsoo is eyeing him judgmentally as he stumbles through the apartment like a drunken elephant, but Baekhyun can’t find it in himself to care right now.

“No?”

“No! Absolutely not,” Baekhyun confirms, “You and your big mouth and all your height and pretty face do not speak a single word to her! Just tell me where you are, I’m already on my way.”

Chanyeol huffs and pouts, but takes the flattery anyway. He hurriedly gives Baekhyun his location, and waits in a corner of the cafe for his friend to arrive. It takes all of eleven minutes for Baekhyun to come stumbling through the glass doors of the coffee shop, a feat which surprises both himself and Chanyeol, considering he lives a good twenty to twenty five minutes away.

Baekhyun’s breathing heavily and looking around frantically. He realizes he probably looks like a madman, or at the very least an extremely disheveled and sleep-deprived undergrad. He can’t exactly blame the soulmate situation for that last one.

Chanyeol’s waving excitedly at him, and Baekhyun bumbles through the crowded store to his table, his eyes glancing back behind the counter with every step he makes.

“Which one is she?” Baekhyun questions, eyes still fluttering back to the counter. There had to be at least eight baristas back there making drinks he can’t pronounce or afford. And one of them is his soulmate, holy shit.

“Do we not greet people anymore?” Chanyeol scoffs, “Hello to you, too.”

But Baekhyun doesn’t have time for the formalities. He gives Chanyeol a glare that shocks the younger into submission, and reluctantly, but not after some more much needed teasing, he points you out to Baekhyun.

And Baekhyun smiles. You’re perfect. You were perfect before, when he had no idea what you looked like, but, still—you’re perfect now, still. Even with your uniform hat on with a stupid pun about coffee written across the front, even with your head bent forward to focus on perfecting the latte art you’re doing, even as you fumble a bit and spill some milk. You’re perfect and Baekhyun’s been waiting his entire life to meet you.

So, he pushes his chair back, stands up straight, smoothes out his hoodie and starts to march towards the counter. He’s almost there, almost, then it hits him: Baekhyun’s been waiting his entire life to meet you. You’re his person—the perfect person for him. What the fuck is he supposed to say to you?

He freezes, body heavy with the sudden realization that speaking to you could literally change his entire life. He blocks a few snooty patrons’ paths, before he’s knocked out of his own trance, and makes a prompt, sharp turn before scurrying back to where Chanyeol is seated.

Wide eyed, and confused, Chanyeol all but wails when Baekhyun takes a seat. “Bro, what are you doing, she’s that way—” he points unnecessarily, “—not over here!”

Baekhyun’s shoulders slump. “I… what am I gonna say to her? I have no idea—what if I fuck it up and she hates me forever.”

“What do you mean you don’t know what to say?” If possible, Chanyeol’s eyes grow bigger, “You don’t have to know anything! You’re meant for each other!”

Baekhyun straightens himself upwards in his seat, Chanyeol’s words giving him a sense of purpose. He’s right! You’re his soulmate, you two are meant for each other! He can do this.

He’s standing up again, ready to do it—really do it this time, but he takes one look over to counter and sits himself right back down.

Okay, sure you’re supposedly made for each other, but what if you don’t even believe in soulmates? What if you don’t want one—what if you don’t want him! There’s a million questions and doubts running through his head right now.

Honestly, Baekhyun has never considered any of the previous questions, or any of the hundred continuously popping up into his mind. All this time he’d just assumed that things would go smoothly, assumed a picture perfect happy ending for the two of you, but maybe, really it was just for him. What is he going to do if you don’t want the same things?

Or what if you don’t want to be romantic soulmates at all? There are definitely cases of people who’ve met and know their soulmates, but have no kind of romantic attachment to them. Completely platonic—best friends and soulmates. Baekhyun remembers that Yixing is like that—met his soulmate during a study abroad trip sophomore year. An older guy, tall too; they have no sort of romantic feelings for each other, but they’re still a perfect match.

Come to think of it, Baekhyun could consider a few of his own friends to be his platonic soulmates, too. Sure, they’re not the people Baekhyun lives through in his dreams, but Kyungsoo, Junmyeon, Chanyeol—they’re all his soulmates in that respect. They’re his best friends, he loves them to death.

So, when he reasons about it, it honestly doesn’t sound too bad. Girlfriend, or not, Baekhyun just knows that simply having in you in his life as some kind of partner would be better than nothing. Maybe the universe has it cut out that the two of you are platonic soulmates. That’s fine, Baekhyun would still absolutely love to have you in his life.

He voices his concerns and newfound thoughts to Chanyeol, who listens with crinkled eyebrows and over dramatized expressions. Baekhyun thinks he’s going to offer him some advice, or at the very least some encouragement, but instead Chanyeol reaches over the table to flick him on the forehead.

“Ouch—what was that for! I didn’t even—”

“It was for being a chicken,” Chanyeol declares, hands retreating back to a folded position in front of his chest.

“I’m not a chicken!” Baekhyun cries, “I’m just thinking things through! Junmyeon tells me all the time I never do that, so I’m finally taking his advice.”

“You’re over thinking things.”

“There’s no such thing as being too careful.”

“Yes there is.”

“I think Junmyeon would disagree,” Baekhyun huffs, “You know what—let me call him and find out.”

Baekhyun clumsily fishes his phone out of his back pocket, but it’s snatched out of his hands before he can even unlock it. Chanyeol all but slams it down on the table in front of him, paying the pout on his friend’s face no mind.

“You can keep wondering and wondering and come up with a billion scenarios, but you won’t know anything unless you go talk to her.”

Baekhyun knows that Chanyeol is right—a sentence rarely ever formed—but it doesn’t make the entire situation any less nerve-wracking.

As much as he thinks Baekhyun is avoiding the inevitable, Chanyeol feels a sense of pity for his friend. Chanyeol was lucky enough to have known his soulmate from his childhood, so he never really had to meet them. He can’t imagine that it’s easy to introduce yourself to your forever person for the first time. Still, he knows Baekhyun isn’t dreading meeting you, but rather making sure he lives up to everything you’ve been dreaming about.

“Okay, how about you try running it by me,” Chanyeol suggests, “Just… tell me what’d you wanna say to her and you can practice, yeah?”

The idea doesn’t sound terrible to Baekhyun, so he tries. They both do, spending nearly thirty minutes just getting his simple greeting and introduction down, then (embarrassingly) another hour coming up with a list of things to say on the off chance that he got past “Hello, I’m Baekhyun and I’ve been dreaming about you since I was 10.”

Chanyeol thinks it’s all very dumb—quite a statement coming from him of all people—for several reasons. Namely, because Baekhyun has the memory of a small rodent and he’s damn sure that he’ll forget all his so called talking points the second he opens his big mouth. Also because Baekhyun is the chattiest person he knows. The fact that he thinks he needs to write down and memorize a list of potential things to say really just goes to show that he’s completely lost it.

“—Does that sound dumb? I don’t know if she already knows that I like to swim, but what if she’s deathly afraid of water, and I completely turn her away by telling her that? I probably shouldn’t mention it then, right?”

Yeah, he’s completely lost it.

Even Baekhyun knows that he’s losing his mind. It’s been almost two hours, and he feels like he can’t form a coherent thought. Like every possible scenario could end in a flaming hot dumpster fire of a mess.

“Do you think I should call Soo?” Baekhyun questions, but his words are so frantic and strung together, Chanyeol can barely make them out, “I think I should. He always knows what to say. Give me my phone, I’m gonna—”

But he doesn’t get the chance to, he doesn’t even to reach for his phone at all, because actions halted by a small tapping on his shoulder.

And then looks up and there’s you, with your hands retreated behind your back, and your ugly uniform cap shading over your eyes, looking down at him with the smallest, hopeful grin on your face. And if Baekhyun thought he couldn’t speak before, then it’s nothing compared to right now.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to, because you do for him.

“Hi, um… I know this might sound weird, but I took a nap during my break just now and I keep seeing this guy—” you pull your right hand from behind your back to gingerly point towards Chanyeol, “—In front of me, so I, uh, I’m pretty sure you’re my soulmate.”

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cairparavei · 3 years

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when love comes | ivar (vikings)

requested by @kingleshe

pairing: ivar x f!reader

wc: 2.7k

warnings: language, the lothbroks being assholes (kinda, all of them except for ubbe)

You had known them since middle school.

The four brothers had always been a mystery to you, until you dumped into Ubbe, the oldest, accidentally.

You used to have a normal friendship; nothing too remarkable, until their parents passed, and you found yourself in the middle of the four brothers, letting them take their rage and sadness on you, making yourself worth of their trust.

Which was a good thing, because everyone knew that messing with a Lothbrok could only mean trouble.

It all went better ever since. They used to be the popular kids in high school, and almost every guy was scared of them.

In fact, they made your prom date leave you hanging just because they didn’t like his necktie, or so the guy said, and you had no choice but to go with Hvitserk.

Not that you were complaining; Hvitserk had grown into a very nice looking man, but you really liked this date you managed to get for yourself, so you were disappointed when you heard your parents’ house bell ring and saw the brothers waiting for you outside, instead of him.

Time passed and you were still as close as ever, and not a day comes by that you’re not thankful to Ubbe for being clumsy as hell that day, and the next one, and then the next until he introduced you to the rest of his brothers.

To sum up, you claimed Ubbe as your big brother, since he was always overprotective because you apparently are the little sister he always wished to have, and not a bunch of horny teenagers to take care of every time they went to a party and drank more than what their bodies could handle.

On the other side, you were like the chamber of secrets for the two middle brothers, Hvitserk and Sigurd. They told you everything from the first time they failed an exam to the most detailed description on how they lost their virginities, and they knew very well you wouldn’t say a word about it, for they also knew your biggest secret; you’ve been in love with Ivar since the day you met him.

They constantly teased you about it, claiming he felt the same towards you and that you were going to have to tell him sooner or later, but you kept knocking this issue off until it was completely necessary.

In fact, Hvitserk and Sigurd had told Ivar for you, but both of them were so drunk none of them remember, and, how did you know about this?

Ubbe heard them.

It happened when he picked them up from a party a couple of weeks ago actually. Both were sitting in the back of Ubbe’s car, and he noticed that they were whisper-arguing, until Sigurd raised his voice and told Ivar he was being blind for not noticing how you had eyes for nobody but him.

Of course, Ivar was oblivious.

As soon as Ubbe arrived home with them, he left Ivar in the car, half asleep, and accompanied Sigurd to your shared flat. First thing he did was glare at you for not telling him before, for he could have helped you.

“Someone had better be dying if you’re calling me this late.”; Ivar threatened over the phone.

“Ivar, I’m bored, and I can’t sleep”, you pouted over the phone. “Come over, please?”

“Listen, Y/N, it’s almost 4 a.m., and you share a flat with Sigurd, why can’t you just wake him up instead of me? I have classes tomorrow if you didn’t know”

“Okay, first of all, he’s not here. Second, I have classes as well, and lastly” you remarked. “I want to see you. You’ve been avoiding me for days, what the hell is wrong with you? Am I not your best friend? We don’t ignore best friends in this household, Ivar Lothbrok”

You heard Ivar sigh on the other side of the call, and after a while he finally agreed to visit you.

You hung up happily and started to make yourself look presentable.

You really had missed Ivar lately. One day the Lothbroks throw a party, then the next it seems like you barely exist to one of them.

It’s not like you had done anything bad, or that you thought, so you found no reason for Ivar to behave like this.

A few minutes later you heard the door open. All of Sigurd’s brothers had a spare key, just in case something happened; which usually meant they were too wasted to go to their own homes so they crashed at your place.

You peeked outside from the kitchen to see Ivar taking of his shoes and coat.

He hadn’t noticed you yet, so you took the opportunity to observe him – he had his hair in a small bun, his glasses on, and was wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. Straight out of bed, you thought.

He made his way to the kitchen and took one of the cups you were holding.

“What’s going on, Y/N?”, he asked out of nowhere.

“What, can I not invite my best friend over without a reason?”

“Not if you call at 4 a.m. and make hot chocolate. It’s more than clear you want to talk about something”

You shivered and looked over him, making his way to the living room and taking a seat in the sofa.

You knew each other like the back of your hands, but were you really that obvious?

“I told you, I couldn’t sleep”, you said sitting on the other side of the couch.

“Why, are you afraid of the dark, sweetheart?”, he smiled.

“Shut up, asshole”, you said, laughing.

The Lothbroks used to tease you often, but especially when you moved in with Sigurd and had to spend your first night in your new place all alone and pretty scared, because he had decided it was a good idea to attend some random girl’s party because “he was in desperate need of human warmth”. So when it became way too terrifying for you to tolerate it, you called over Ivar to spend the night with you.

“Now, tell me what’s wrong. You don’t call someone at this hour for nothing. I don’t believe it’s just because you ‘can’t sleep’”.

You sighed. You really couldn’t let a small lie go past him.

“You’re being weird with me these days. For no reason. I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong to you or anyone for you to be distant as fuck”, you told him, putting your cup on the small table in front of you. You sat back, facing him and crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m not being weird, you’re overreacting”, he said, and you furrowed your brows.

What in the actual fuck?

“I am not.”, you remarked, “Just like it’s obvious of me to make hot chocolate when something doesn’t feel right, it is for you too when you haven’t been the same towards me these days.”

He licked his lips and looked down at his cup of chocolate. He smiled to himself, noticing you had given him your Toothless cup, just as you used your Light Fury one.

It was kind of funny to him, because you always screamed that you would only share you ‘How to train your dragon’ stuff with who you would consider to be the love of your life.

“You just don’t want to believe it, Ivar. But you know very well that she’s always looked at you with the brightest eyes.” Sigurd said drunkenly; “Or are you really that much of an idiot? I mean, you’re not the brightest of guys, but I thought of you as an intelligent person, baby brother”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Sig, you don’t know what you’re saying.”, Ivar answered.

“I won’t shut up until you notice”, Sigurd hiccupped, “Or at least until you admit you feel the same for her”.

Ivar frowned. They knew. But how? He knew his brothers, and they would only mess this all up if he had told them.

Being the youngest, he had seen his brothers have their hearts broken, especially Ubbe’s.

Breaking up with his long-time girlfriend, and childhood friend as well, meant for them to lose contact with her completely, and that scared Ivar.

Like, really. He was scared to the point that, if confessing meant losing you, he would rather dig his own grave and let some wild dogs rip his arms and legs out until he no longer breathed.

Yes, that much you meant to him. Not only Ivar, but to his brothers as well.

You were like the glue that stick them together, for he knows they wouldn’t be talking to each other anymore if it wasn’t because you were there to help them solve their problems.

Like that one time he and Sigurd had the biggest argument and you literally took him by his ear, forced him to eat his own ego, and apologise to Sigurd for ruining his possible ‘potential long-termed relationship’ by telling the girl he had a fart kink.

“Ivar!”, you snapped him out of his daydreaming, sighing “I’m fucking talking to a brick”

“I’m sorry”, he said, “I was thinking. There’s a lot on my mind right now, I’m really sorry, Y/N”.

“Then let it all out, Ivar, you know that’s what I’m here for”, you smiled softly, taking his hands in yours.

You really had no idea what you did to him.

You cleared his mind whenever you talked to him, and gave him goosebumps whenever you held his hands or snuggled up to him every time you slept over at their place and they chose to watch a horror film

What both of you weren’t aware of is that both Ubbe and Hvitserk did it on purpose, since they were able to see how much you liked to be close to him, feeling his warmth when he put his arms around you and told you repeatedly how he would protect you if anything happened to you, as well as how much he enjoyed being able to be the one to calm you on stressing situations.

Suddenly your phone, which was on the table as well, lit up. You both looked over as a knee-jerk action, and he noticed you had a picture of him as your wallpaper.

“You have some explaining to do as well, miss”, he said, smiling, “I don’t remember giving you permission to use me as your wallpaper”

“Ah, shut up, you know very well I don’t need it”, you laughed, “You’ll have your explanation, but you go first”

“I really have no choice, right?”, he smiled softly while you shook your head no.

He shifted in his seat, facing you as well, and took your other hand in his. You heard him take the biggest breath of air while looking down at your intertwined hands, and you were able to see fear in his eyes when he looked back at you.

“I’m scared, Y/N”, he started, “I’m scared of doing something that could make you run away from me”

You stared at him, your breath stuck in your throat.

“I could never leave you, Ivar, none of you. Tell me what’s wrong, please”, you said, tightening your hold in his hands, trying to reassure him you weren’t leaving.

He took both of your hands and lead them towards his mouth, kissing them softly before supporting his forehead on them.

“Just tell me, Ivar, don’t overthink it. I’m sure whatever it is, we can make it work, nothing bad will happen if you and I stick together, remember?

You felt him smile in your hands. He straightened his back and snuggled you close to him until you were sitting in his lap facing him. He then hugged you tightly, pulling you as close as he could. You felt him shaking a bit.

“It’s okay, Ivar, we don’t have to talk about it now, I’m sorry if you feel pressured”, you told him.

“I just can’t find the right words”, he sighed. “I didn’t think I would ever have to tell you all this shit I’m feeling, I’m so sorry”.

“Don’t be, and don’t say those things about yourself”, you hugged him tightly, “You’re the most amazing person I know, Ivar. You have your tantrums, yes, but who doesn’t?”

You took his face into your hands, and looked him in the eyes.

“I love you, Ivar. You know damn well I love the four of you with all my heart, but out of all of them, you’re the most intelligent, talented, and handsome. You hear me?”, you asked, and he nodded, “And it doesn’t matter how bad whatever that’s going on inside that stubborn head of yours, I’m not going anywhere, okay? It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me yet, I understand, and it’s completely fine”

You were about to keep talking, but, as you were about to do so, he put one of his hands over your mouth while his other one kept you still and close to him by circling around your waist.

“I don’t deserve you. None of us do, actually, but I couldn’t care less about them now”, he started, “I... Remember that time when we went on a picnic that turned into a photo session and then in a cinema date, months ago? That day made me realize I was starting to catch feelings for you. I thought it was just the heat of the moment, but once they came, those feelings never left. I found myself thinking even more about you, and all I knew was that I didn’t see you as a friend anymore”

You frowned, scared of what he could say.

He took off his glassed and put them on the table and rubbed his eyes before looking back at you with the most sparkly eyes you had ever seen.

“Don’t think of this as a bad situation. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around me, and I know how awkward you get whenever a guy tells you he likes you, or how you don’t even speak to boys after you go out on a date with them. That’s why I didn’t tell you all this before. I don’t want you to feel strange around me. God, I should have kissed you when I dropped you off at your parents’ house that night. You looked so pretty back then”

He was caressing your face now. You were trying to get all those words he had said into your head. You were trying to believe this was really happening and was not some made-up scenario happening in your head while you were trying to sleep.

“You mean so much to me, Y/N”, he continued, “I don’t even know what I would do if you weren’t around anymore. I don’t want you to leave my side, I feel like I need to know what is like to kiss you whenever I want, to make love to you until we can no longer breath. It may sound childish, or stupid, but I need to know what is like to be loved by you”

You felt like your heart was going to get out of your chest from how hard it was beating.

Ivar, your Ivar, the one you’ve loved for so many years, was here confessing to you.

You couldn’t find the words to tell him you felt the same, and that you were never in your life going to leave him, so you did what your mind, body and heart told you to.

You kissed him. And he kissed you back with such passion you thought you were going to run out of air. You were holding his face firmly while he snaked his arms around your waist again, pulling you as close as possible without breaking apart from the kiss.

You both knew what this kiss meant. You both knew that, after this night, nothing would ever be the same between you; at last, it was going to get the best it could. You both were telling the other one that you loved them deeply. You both were giving your hearts and souls to each other.

You leaned back until your forehead touched his, and whispered a soft “I’m in love with you”.

“I’m so in love with you too, Y/N, you have no idea”, he whispered back.

#ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x reader #ivar the king #ivar fanfic #ivar scenario #ivar imagine #vikings #vikings au #vikings imagine #vikings scenario #modern!vikings #modern au

88 notes · View notes

eldrai · 3 years

Text

Skeleton Crew

Whumptober 2021 - Day 4 - Prompt: Taken Hostage

masterpost / read on ao3

Character: Garcia

Warnings: guns, mentions/references to gun violence, brief description of a dead body, canon-typical references to murder. This is a heavy one.

Words: 4.3k

Summary: A late night in the office, the team in California and an unwelcome visitor.

Penelope checks the weather forecast again and is intensely jealous of the team right now – the sun in California must be nice. Certainly better than the miserable downpours lingering over D.C.

Then again, sunshine is considerably tainted by child homicide cases, so it’s a lot less pleasant than a holiday. And the time difference is a little irritating, too—she keeps blinking and time slips by just like that. Two o’clock in the morning last time she’d checked, and for them it was only late evening.

With her search algorithms booted up and running, she has little to do except wait for it to send her hits. Her screens fade into her screensaver, bubbles bouncing off each other. Maybe she should change it up a bit. The default is sort of boring, now that she thinks about it.

The door squeaks. She scoots back in her chair and spins it around.

“Kev—”

Penelope trails off.

The man standing in the doorway is a sturdy build. He stands tall as if he’s used to it and his jaw is set, mouth pressed into a thin line. She swallows. Deep brown hair cropped short, dark eyes she finds herself compelled to look into and away from, his face registers as neither familiar or threatening. There is no ID badge pinned to his shirt. No visitors’ lanyard around his neck.

He does, however, have a rifle resting across his chest.

Her mouth goes dry. His easy confidence takes on a darker edge, and she has to tear her eyes from the gun to examine his face. Memorise every unique identifier just in case—

Well.

Just in case.

“Where are they?” the man demands. She’s taken aback at how young he sounds, how unsteady it is against the rest of his posturing.

“Where are who?” Penelope asks. She inches slowly towards her phone, sat carelessly on the edge of her desk, and wipes her hands’ clamminess away on her skirt.

“Behavioural Analysis Unit,” the man says. “Says they’re here.”

There is no air in her lungs and her insides are water, heavy and twisting. “The… the unit is here, but they’re away right now.”

Whether this will enrage the man or please him – his lined forehead gives her the impression it’ll be the former – she doesn’t care. Nobody smuggles a gun like that into FBI headquarters for a friendly chat.

“I don’t believe you,” he says. “Show me.”

“…show you what?”

His knuckles blanche as his grip on the gun tightens. “Where they are! Where they’re supposed to be, I don’t – you’re lying.”

Penelope shakes her head. She can’t leave. Her phone and her computer and her everything is in this room. The team are hundreds of miles away and the bureau runs on a skeleton crew at this time of night. She knows it’s irrational – she has as much chance talking him down here as in another room – but she can’t help it.

Stall, she thinks frantically. Buy time. Buy time for… for something, she’ll come up with something. Co-operate but don’t let him take her to a secondary location (does that count if it’s in the same building? She hadn’t asked. It hadn’t occurred to her.)

“I’m not,” she promises. “I’ll show you the office, I just… well, I don’t know your name?”

The man’s face hardens. “My name.”

“If you’re waiting for the team, we’re gonna be here a while,” Penelope jokes. Her voice sounds hollow. “I didn’t mean anything, I – I – normally I don’t get many people down here, so it’s nice.”

“Just show me where they work.”

Her hand clasps around her phone but his sharp gaze catches the movement and he shifts, lifting the barrel of the gun slightly. “And leave that here.”

She does. Moving slowly, waiting for his permission – or lack of objection, seeing as he’s not much of a talker – she stands and walks out of the room with him on her heels. The artificial fluorescents and unappealing beige strike her as unfriendly. Cold. This is not somewhere she belongs.

Her body isn’t hers. She isn’t herself.

“Okay, so this isn’t going to go well for you,” Penelope says, “but just so you know, it’s really really not gonna go down well with the rest—”

Metal cracks against her skull and white-hot pain saps her vision. She stumbles forwards, slumps along the wall to keep balance. She tastes the blood before she feels it: her lip is split where she’d bitten down with the momentum.

Her eyes sting with tears as he marches her onwards with the gun brushing the sore spot.

Penelope hardly expects there to be anyone around. That doesn’t mean she’s not awfully frightened when they reach the unit without having encountered so much as a janitor. Her heart races in her chest like it’s competing with her rapid, shallow breaths.

It’s so much different when everyone is away. In the day it gives her pause, to see the bullpen so still and quiet, but at night it’s downright eerie.

The man directs her to sit at a desk. He sweeps the phone off the desk and yanks the plug out by the cord.

“Stay there, and be quiet,” he barks.

The man prowls around the bullpen, pulling out drawers and rifling through papers left on the desks, glancing at name plates. He isn’t looking for anything specifically – she doesn’t think – but it makes her nervous just the same. She wishes he was. Then he’d leave.

His hand is never far from the trigger.

When he turns his attention back to her (and she curses herself for not looking, not finding some way to contact someone and let them know about the man, a gunman, here, breaking every assumption of safety she’s ever made) he moves jerkily. Almost twitchy. His eyes don’t settle.

“Call them,” he orders.

Penelope blinks. “I don’t have my phone.”

He reaches into a pocket in his cargos and tosses a cheap cell on the desk. She reaches for it as if it’s a bomb, handles it tentatively, glancing up at him intermittently. It strikes her as a risk, to give a hostage a phone, and some painful part of her points out he must be pretty desperate.

(She doesn’t want to have sympathy for him. She doesn’t. But…)

(She doesn’t even know his name and he’s threatened her life.)

Her fingers hover over the 9 for a touch too long and he lifts the gun. Penelope moves on. Though her mind has gone blank her muscle memory kicks in and she keys in Hotch’s phone number. She’d call Morgan but if they aren’t all together, it’s… probably better to let him know about the situation.

The man. The angry man. The angry man with a large gun. That situation.

Angry. And, she thinks as she hits call, afraid.

It rings.

Rings.

What if he doesn’t answer? What’s the man going to do? What does he even want? A stone settles in her stomach and she finds herself longing for the boredom not half an hour ago. Grey skies and thunderstorms.

The man shifts. His shoulders are pulled back into a firm line and – how’s he going to react? This is going to make him more stressed, which is going to make him more vulnerable, which is going to make him more danger—

“Who is this?”

Oh thank god. Thank god.

The man puts a finger to his lips and slices his hand across his throat. Penelope nods. She sets the phone on the table and wrings her hands.

“I thought she was lying,” the man says. “The phone makes it harder but it’s… it’s okay.”

“Who are you?” Hotch asks. “What do you mean?”

The man runs a hand through his hair as he paces. “My brother didn’t do what you all said. You said he killed them and he didn’t. You’re wrong.”

“I don’t know who you are,” Hotch says, “and I don’t know who your brother is. How did you get this number?”

The man jerks his head at her. Penelope swallows. Her throat itches like sandpaper. “…Um, hi sir.”

“Garcia? What’s going on?”

“That’s how,” the man says. “That’s why you’re going to listen to me.”

Her blood runs ice cold. Agitated, the man begins to pace.

“It must be important,” Hotch says, “whatever it is you want to say, if you’ve gone to these lengths.”

“Yeah, it’s fucking important,” the man barks. “I told you. He didn’t do it. Jamie’s not like that.”

“Jamie’s your brother.”

“Don’t!” he snaps. Penelope flinches. “James, call him James, don’t—”

“James,” Hotch corrects. The line crackles with static as the phone rustles against something. It clicks. “What did James not do?”

A harsh laugh. “You put him in jail for life and… and, what, you don’t remember? Ruin enough lives that you don’t care?”

“I wouldn’t want to think of the wrong James. I remember, but James is a common name. I’m listening.”

“He’d never do that,” the man says. “That’s what everyone said. It’s true. Jamie doesn’t kill people.”

“I think my colleagues can remember James better than I do,” Hotch says carefully. “They’ll listen too. Can they talk to you as well?”

“I don’t care!”

She has the sudden thought that if she stays still enough, the man might forget she exists. That she might not exist. Just stay outside her body like this, terrified and numb and freezing and hot all at the same time.

“I need James’ surname.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course you do,” he sneers. “And then you know who I am and then everyone’s making up shit about me too.”

“So you’re presumably holding an FBI agent hostage,” Rossi interjects, “and you’re worried about your privacy now?”

A pinprick of pain at the tip of her finger. She’s bitten at the skin around her nails, hadn’t realised she was doing it.

“No, I’m worried about getting arrested for things I never did. Like James. You’d – you’d want people to stop saying things if it was you.”

“Not really,” Rossi says. “What they say about me is true. So what is it you want, you or James?”

“He’s innocent,” the man says. “I want him out of prison.”

“Wrong people. You’d want the department of justice for—”

“Shut up! Shut up! You’re not listening!”

Pallid face reddening with rage, he stalks around the table and in one swift motion yanks her hair to force her head back. She cries out in pain.

“I don’t know who you are and I don’t really care but you have to listen,” he says. “Didn’t you hear me? Didn’t the other one tell you? I’ve got Garcia, right here.”

“Sir,” Penelope says. “Please. He’s got a gun. Just listen. I just want to get home.”

“See?” the man says. He loosens his grip. “You listen or she gets hurt.”

“We understand,” Hotch says. She wonders where Morgan and Reid and Prentiss are, hopes it’s the same room. “But without a name, we can’t help James and even if we could, it’s a much longer process to release him. We don’t have a say about that.”

“Bureaucracy and all that,” Rossi says.

“James Horwat,” the man says. “Ring any bells?”

It is a quiet but distinctive noise, the way he clears his throat. “Actually, yes.”

Reid. Of course he’d remember.

She loves him to death but she really, really hopes he doesn’t put his foot in his mouth this time. Not with the gun still levelled at her.

“You do?” The man’s voice lifts.

“He was twenty-three,” Reid says. “You… so you must have been Isaac.”

Isaac. It’s strange to have a name to his face. Strange to think about his parents, about him, the decisions which must’ve gone into picking a name. All the choices that led him here tonight.

“Yeah,” the man says, “yeah, you do remember. But James didn’t do it.”

“We found the evidence in his car,” Reid says. “We didn’t find anything to contradict it, where… where should we have looked?”

Penelope doesn’t take her eyes off the gun as the man – Isaac – takes a frustrated walk around the desk before he brings himself to answer. “I don’t know. That’s your job. James never hurt them and now he’s in prison.”

“We must have gone wrong somewhere,” Hotch says. “If there’s an innocent man serving time. I think you must have some idea what happened.”

“Everyone wanted it to be Jamie,” the man says. “It was easy. To get rid of him. They just said he did it.”

“Why did they want to get rid of James?” Reid asks.

“He wasn’t right,” the man says. “In the head. He wasn’t – it wasn’t his fault that he was like that. But he never killed them. Nobody ever listened. I had to come here. That’s why. Nobody would listen.”

“I know,” Reid says. “I’m sorry. And I think, I think you might know, I think you know this isn’t a good way to do it.”

Penelope freezes.

“It’s not right,” the man says, “what they did to Jamie. I’m not gonna let you try and tell me it is. I know how it goes.”

“It isn’t,” Reid says. “It’s not right. And I want to talk to you so we can help James but I can’t do that while you’re with Garcia.”

The man glares at her, and ice runs down her spine. Reid’s voice hurts—she wants to be there, with them. Wants them here. Anything but to be alone with this man right now.

“You’re doing it now,” the man says. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, restless. “She isn’t going anywhere until you help him. I don’t want to hurt anyone. Don’t make me.”

“So you’re… you’re there with Garcia,” Reid says. “How did you manage that? I know you don’t want to hurt her but is there—”

“It doesn’t matter!”

She flinches. His voice cuts through the silence and lingers long after he stops talking.

“Let us talk to her,” Rossi says.

Isaac takes in a long breathe and his hands settle on the rifle. His throat bobs as he swallows. She doesn’t dare look up at him. “Tell them.”

“He…” Penelope studies his face – in a word, nondescript. No details which stand out. DNA is good but she’s not getting close enough to get his hair or his skin. She doesn’t like to think why those are so valuable.

She’s going to be fine.

“…he isn’t lying. It’s okay. I’m fine, I… well, it’s kinda cold up here, do you guys always keep the office so freezing?” Penelope says. She just hopes they know what she means. Not that they’d be the ones getting her out of here, not from California, but… knowledge is power, right?

(It has to be. It’s all she has left.)

“But yeah, I’m… it’s okay. He hasn’t hurt anyone, we didn’t even run into someone.”

Her chest aches and her voice is fragile. She pokes her tongue at her split lip, where the bleeding has started up again, hates the metallic taste. Fear. There’s something wet on the back of her neck—she cringes at the tacky feeling of dried blood.

“I’m not leaving,” Isaac insists. “I know they’re gonna arrest me. I don’t care how long for. This is for Jamie.”

“It doesn’t have to be a long time.” Hotch again, calm and flat. Like this is just any other conversation. “You haven’t hurt anyone and you don’t want to, and you’re just trying to help your brother.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“You’ve got one now,” he says. “Just let Garcia go, and everyone will understand.”

Isaac’s face twists into something pained, and Penelope sinks down in her seat. She’s not sure whether he’ll swing into anger or sadness and not sure how he’d react to either.

“I can’t,” he insists. “I can’t, nobody is listening! I can’t.”

“This is your best way out,” Rossi says. “Take it.”

His eyes are wet. “Do you know what they said? They found ‘em with – they thought he’d hurt them. He wouldn’t. Not like that.”

“Not like what, Isaac?” Reid’s quiet, soft. It works. It occurs to her that Reid must know, must remember.

Penelope hardly dares to breathe. Isaac’s hands shake with the strength of his grip on the gun.

“Jamie wouldn’t,” Isaac repeats. “He was good. He’d never. He wouldn’t do it to them.”

“To them.”

A pained sob. He’s an ugly crier, face twisted, choking breaths. “It was just us. He didn’t do it. It wasn’t for them. Jamie didn’t do it.”

Her fingers are numb despite her blood roaring in her ears. The room is a vacuum. She can’t breathe.

“I know,” Reid says.

“No!” the man barks. Penelope jumps. He’s moving, a hand raking through his hair, heavy, thumping footsteps. “You don’t. Just stop. I’m staying here. Don’t make me hurt her.”

Just over his panting, she catches the low murmur of voices in the background. Must be on their end. Maybe it’s the others coming to find out what’s going on.

“It doesn’t have to end like this,” Reid says. “None of us want someone to get hurt, Isaac. That’s the thing. We all want this to go well. And it’s best for you if you let us have Garcia.”

Isaac shakes his head frantically. “I don’t care about me.”

“You care about Jamie,” he chances. “He wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Shut up.”

“Just let her go,” Reid implores. “That’s all you have to do. We’re here. We’re still listening.”

His frenzied eyes settle on her for a long time. Penelope swallows back her own fear and meets his gaze, holds it until he breaks and looks away. Not threatening. Just a look. A last ditch effort to make him recognise the humanity reflected back at him.

To save her life.

“No,” Isaac says.

“Please,” she whispers. She feels it in her throat before she hears it, hardly a sound at all. He drums his fingers on the barrel of the gun and she wonders how heavy it is.

If he hears it, he gives no indication.

“Don’t do this,” Reid says. “There’s a lot of ways to settle this and none of them are going to hurt people. Don’t you want that?”

Through gritted teeth, he snarls. “Just ‘cause I want it doesn’t mean I’ll get it.”

“Penelope – that’s Garcia – she had nothing to do with it,” Reid says. “Be angry at us. Be angry at everyone involved but she wasn’t.”

She tastes bile. He’s trying to humanise her, and they aren’t so much negotiating as just begging him not to. This is Reid’s last-ditch attempt too.

What are her last words going to be?

Penelope has so many things to think and say and do and this can’t be it, this can’t be.

The silence cracks.

She ducks down off the chair, knees landing hard on the ground, ignoring the stinging pain as she presses against the desk. Someone is screaming. Glass splinters. Penelope squeezes her eyes closed and waits for the pain.

It’s her. The screaming. It’s her and she hadn’t realised. She chokes on a ragged inhale and forces herself to stay quiet, be quiet, hide and maybe he won’t find her and it might be okay and oh god is she going to go home tonight at all.

Penelope’s hair stands on end. Everything is quiet. Too quiet. The sharp crack echoes out and a sickly silence creeps in on its absence.

A wet gurgle. Her heart jumps into her throat. She cracks an eye open and sweeps the ground for the dirty work boots.

Blood.

Jolted into action, she opens both eyes and examines herself: arms and legs first – no bleeding – chest and stomach and she reaches a hand to touch her shoulders and shouldn’t a gunshot be screaming at her? Shouldn’t she feel the rush of wet heat and the white-hot flaring pain?

Penelope gulps. Her teeth are chattering like she’s cold. Every one of her joints has turned to jelly, weak and wobbly. The ringing in her ears surges back to life.

She can’t move.

She can’t stay.

Clinging onto the edge of the desk, Penelope peers around it slowly. Bright blood speckles the carpet, growing closer and closer until the dark pool of blood soaking a rough circle. It’s not just blood. Some of it is…

Solid.

She retches.

The man’s hands are clasped around his rifle. He’s sprawled out on the ground and she traces the line of his body with her gaze. Long legs. Black cargos. Bloodsoaked shirt. Hollow neck.

His humanity ends there. Everything else is splintered: fragments of a man he used to be. No eyes or nose or mouth or brain. Just blood and pulp.

Penelope scrambles backwards, elbows scraping the ground, legs giving out beneath her. She hits the back of a table and hauls herself to her feet, clinging on it for balance as dizziness crashes over her.

She closes her eyes. Her breath comes louder, rapid and shallow, and she forces herself to exhale through her nose. Just breathe. Everything else can come later. Without vision, sound comes rushing back.

“—there?”

The phone.

Somewhere.

She staggers to the other desk and grasps the phone like a lifeline. Wipes a smear of blood off the screen and tries not to think about it. “He… he’s…”

“Garcia, are you there?”

“I’m here,” she says. “He’s dead, I’m here, I… oh my god… I’m okay. Not okay okay because there’s blood and… him… and everything everywhere but it’s not my blood and oh it’s on the ceiling, that’s never gonna come out of the carpet and yep, the walls as well, seriously, that’s never going to look the same and I don’t care about the paint, why am I talking about it I swear I’m okay—”

“Breathe, baby girl,” Morgan interjects.

Penelope sobs with relief. “Derek Morgan, you wonderful, beautiful man,” she says when she can talk past the lump in her throat. She nearly drops the phone with her shaking hands.

“Uh-huh, just stay focused on me,” he says. “You’re all right. It’s over.”

“He’s… I know, I just didn’t… there’s so much…”

“I know. We didn’t really want you to see that, but, uh…”

“Sending people inside would have stressed him and he’d have reacted unpredictably,” Hotch says. “Otherwise we would have done that.”

“They’re sending someone up there,” Morgan says. “Agents Matthews and Singh. They’ll have their ID on them.”

She blanks out for a moment, talking without registering what she’s saying, then she pulls a chair closer to the – a – desk, untouched, and boots up the computer. The old terminal rattles. Probably the fan loose in its brackets, maybe the hard drive. It doesn’t matter.

Every so often she takes a deep breath and glances behind her for the agents. Or worse. Penelope keeps her line of sight high because she cannot bear seeing that again; the cloying iron smell threatens to choke her. Her wrist aches and she lets go of the phone, working against every instinct to hold it and keep it (because it’s all she has right now he’s gone but he isn’t and what if he wasn’t alone?) by placing it on the desk.

When the monitor blinks to life, he nearly gets herself locked out by mistyping her password – her hands are wracked with fine tremors and keep hitting the wrong keys – but her luck improves when she can just use the mouse for everything. Muscle memory kicks in and she’s booting up a video call. Voices wash over her. She just – she has to see them.

And it goes all staticky. Her stomach swoops as her mind jumps to late-night horror movies, severed internet connections and dark houses, but it clears up just as fast.

The first view she has is an unflattering angle of Rossi’s neck, the man unaware for a good few seconds, and Penelope’s tears turn into a watery laughter as the usual arguments ensue: Rossi complaining about the software, Morgan calling instructions from one side and Hotch from the other, both contradicting, Reid squeezing himself into a gap in the background to catch a glimpse of her. Prentiss’s saying something about men and Penelope doesn’t need to see her to envision JJ’s eye roll. The laptop ends up in her hands as she undoes whatever settings the others have accidentally triggered.

Just their faces, faint shapes blurred through the tears, is enough to set her off again. Someone cuts off the phone call as their voices layer over one another.

“—you okay?”

“—good to see you—”

“—is that your blood—”

“—have Singh and Matthews—”

“—hey, you’re gonna make Reid cry in a second—”

“—I will not—”

She doesn’t smile but her mouth twitches upwards at the corners, more genuine than a forced grin could ever be.

It takes the agents an hour and a half to get to her – sweeping the building first, and though there’s a substantial team doing it their buildings aren’t exactly small – and they stay on with her, all of them, the whole time. Crashing from the adrenaline, she ends up with her head leaning back against the seat and listening to the ebb and flow of their conversation. And Morgan offers to stay on the phone with her after that, too, as the EMTs examine a (thankfully) superficial head wound and Matthews drives her home, and in the end Penelope has to hang up so she can have a shower before she passes out right then and there on her couch.

She lies down for a moment before she dries her hair and…

The sharp rapping jolts her awake, heart in her throat.

“Hey, Garcia?”

Penelope bolts upright and hardly stops for a millisecond to check the peephole; she opens the door and collapses into Morgan’s arms. A gentle hand running through her hair – JJ – and Prentiss on her other side, she can’t fight the tears and doesn’t try to. She’s home, really and truly. She's safe.

#whumptober2021 #no.4 #taken hostage #criminal minds #fanfic #cm fanfic #garcia #eldrai does whumptober #criminal minds fanfic #cw guns

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too-scared-to-do-this · 3 years

Text

Of the Devil’s head

Chapter twelve - Lose a piece of that non-heart

Sander’s sides fanfiction

Wordcount: 1529

Ship: prinxiety (Get ready people.)

TW: So, a bunch of kissing - though no shirtless people this time; a little bit of for-play (Can it be called for-play if nothing really happens?), hard teasing, flirting, very subtle mentions of cruelty and something resembling suicide, though it is not exactly that, cursing (a lot) and a bunch of light-hearted backstory angst because why not? Let me know if anything else pops up :3

Summary of the whole story: They say, the one that wears the crown rules all - the living, the dead, the walking, the crawling, the rooted, the sane and the mad. They say, once you own the crown, you become the most powerful being on Earth and beyond. Roman’s stolen bigger things - a measly little crown won’t present a problem, even if he has to steel it straight off of the devils head!

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Chapter twelve - Lose a piece of that non-heart

Roman often tends to forget what it is like to be happy. That one little feeling that grows inside your chest, suffocating you in the best way possible until you blow up, smiling and grinning (in his case talking and twirling around like a little princes).

It’s been so long since this feeling grew out of proportion. Since he wanted to jump around and talk someone’s ears of. Wanted to sing out loud.

But right now, no matter how Roman’s body would be reacting to this much happiness in any other situation, he just pulled the Devil closer to him, grinning into the kiss.

V smiled too, leaning his forehead against the thief’s. “You seem awfully happy.” he murmured, teasingly. As if the pink on his pail cheeks and the way his non-heart was beating didn’t imply the exact same thing.

He was awfully happy. And judging by the way Roman was literally vibrating, he was as well.

“I just kissed the man of my nightmares, who wouldn’t be?” Ro grinned even wider.

Virgil couldn’t help but snort, shaking his head against the being’s.

“What? It’s not like you didn’t get lucky! Just look at me!” Ro pulled away, with Virgil still on his lap, gesturing at himself.

“I don’t think emotionally fragile and easily breakable is a think you should be proud of.”

“Hey! I’ll let you know! I’m much tougher then you think! I might just be tougher than you!”

“Oh really.” Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Let’s put that to a test, shall we…?” the dark toothy grin wasn’t nearly enough to forebode the kings next actions.

Roman didn’t even have time to blink before he was laying once again. Hands above his head, pinned to the bed.

Something snaked up his leg, circling around his thigh. Too high, he might ad… This was dangerous. Very, very dangerous…

“Now you can show me how though you really are.” the Devil’s eyes darkened, clouds circling around like small tornados. “When someone’s holding you down…” he leaned in close. Close enough that he could feal his breath on his lips. “…pinning you…”

“… what will the though thief do?” he hummed. Deep voice resonating through Roman’s whole body.

“He… am….” the human gulped. He hated how clipped his voice came out.

But Hades, did Virgil love the flustered expression Roman was wearing. He could hear his heart beating faster then light, blood rushing in his wains. See his brain failing to function. Cheeks flushed and eyes unable to leave Virgil’s lips. Roman was completely gone. Melting underneath the Devil.

“He what?” V smirked, voice dark with lust. Tail tightening around Ro’s thigh.

Roman yelped.

A very high-pitched, very restrained, very embarrassing yelp. And Virgil couldn’t take it. He fell back onto the thief’s thighs, tail uncurling, hand’s letting go, howling with laughter.

And Roman just laid there, a giant emotional mess watching the Devil with big round eyes.

“Oh Hades! Lord of the darkness! I can’t, I’m sorry.” the king stuttered out through laughter. “Don’t take it too seriously. I was just having some fun.”

“We’ll if this is the kind of fun you like to have…” the thief blinked, barely breathing.

But Virgil didn’t even hear him through the laughter. He just leaned down and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “You’re adorable when flustered, liveling.”

“Yeah yeah.” Ro rolled his eye, trying to collect his thoughts. He cleared his throat and took in the whole of his supposed captor. Apparently that thing that abused his thigh earlier was a long thin tail, similar to the wings he saw earlier. Huh… interesting.

But didn’t the Devil say- “Where are your horns?”

“What?” Virgil wiped of a tear, trying his best to calm down.

“Your horns. You said ‘tails and horns and everything’. Where are the horns?”

“Ah well… Their here.”

And suddenly, Roman was looking at two small horns poking out of V’s scalp. Barely visible from the hair. “Oh, dear Gods! They are so small!”

“Oh shut up.”

“No! You’ve got small little hornies!”

“Do you even hear yourself?”

“They suit your personality so much! Small and adorable! I just -”

Virgil sighed defeated. “Apparently not…”

His fun has ended…

Nobody knows how long the two didn’t come out of that room.

Well… nobody except Remi. He’s been lounging around the throne room for Hades-knows-how-long, sipping at his delicious coffee.

Souls, no souls, he wouldn’t have been working even if Virgil was around. But he wasn’t. He was off with that boy-toy off his doing dark-knows-what.

If you’d ask Remi, the king went soft. But he never really was tough to begin with…

All those years ago, when they used to go down to earth and do crazy shit nobody even dared to think of! That was the shit! Them - the duo. Tearing people in half and making buildings crumble and burn. But thinking back, even Remi knew it wasn’t Virgil’s free will talking. The former prince always looked back at the damage they caused with a sad look in his eyes. Guilt.

No, it was not him. It was Lucifer.

The former Devil was the truest meaning of the word. Remi hasn’t been here long enough to get to know him, but the twelve or so years spent with him in charge were enough. Abusive, power-hungry, mad. Nothing was ever enough for that creature.

Not his wife, Remi never got to meet. Not his son, who grew up to be too weak for the kings liking. Not Hell itself.

Remi wasn’t blind. Nor was he stupid. Lazy and bitchy, maybe, but those were his best traits! Besides for the obvious great fashion sense and awesome personality. But he was a mind reader for fuck’s sake. And Virgil’s thoughts weren’t exactly quiet.

Safe to say it was best for everyone involved when Lucifer got banned from Hell. Well, not exactly from it - they were demons, but not even they were cruel enough to unleash such a monster to the upper world. He got sent to the deepest darkest pit of Hell where no server had acces to. Not even the prince himself.

And after the immediate coronation of Virgil, the power the former Devil once had now belonged to V. Who never used it, unless necessary.

So yeah… maybe Remi did miss those times when Virgie was more fun, but he sure as Hell didn’t miss those thoughts of his swirling around in both of their heads.

Now at least it was mostly quiet.

The Devil seemed happy. Unusually so. Remi even got his fucking coffee! Who would’ve though?

He chewed on the straw of his almost empty drink. No matter what, the king was the king. And right now, he was locked away somewhere with his little Human doing dark-knows what. And Hell, if Remi wasn’t curious as to what it was!

And what it really was, was nothing.

V laid in his bed with his head on Romans chest, completely oblivious to the outside world. This was their bubble - their safe place. Nobody could walk in without permission and nobody could take Roman away either.

He wouldn’t let them.

Maybe not that. But Virgil knew Ro would have to leave at some point. He couldn’t stay... Though he’d rather not think about that just yet.

Instead, he looked up at his liveling and watched him. Listened to the steady beet of his heart. Who knew it would be a Human thief that would end up owning his?

Hair still damp from the shower he took earlier. Eyes closed. Smiling.

Yeah… Virgil was a lucky son of a Devil. And nobody could deny that.

Father wouldn’t have approved, but mom… Mom would have loved Roman.

She herself has fallen for a mortal. Which ended up being her downfall. But she never regretted. She never coward.

Not once.

“Don’t be afraid love. It doesn’t hurt.” she said.

“But I am afraid, mommy…”

“Don’t be, my dark angel. I am not afraid.”

“How?”

“Because, when you love somebody enough, you’re not afraid to give up anything.”

Now, Virgil knew this was faulty logic. If she loved her son as much as she said she did, why didn’t she give up dying on the account of her supposed love? And why did she need to give up anything at all?

If she loved someone, shouldn’t they be kind and understanding enough to at least come to a compromise? Find some way for his mommy not to have to die?

The mortal probably was dead by now, forgetting all about his beloved mother the moment she stepped out of their life. But she didn’t…

It was faulty logic. Very stupid and faulty logic.

But somewhere deep down, he understood her…

She did love him. More then anything in the whole universe. But sometimes love isn’t enough.

And so, she perished. Erased herself from existence without a single tear ruining her perfect face. And a beautiful smile.

That’s what Virgil remembers. That smile.

And as he looked up at Roman, he saw the same one. Same peaceful, astonishing small smile lingering on the lips he was kissing just a moment ago.

So, he kissed them again. And let the realization of what he was about to do next swallow him whole.

----------------------------------

I don’t feel like this chapter is very consistent... But oh well. I refuse to sit on it any longer. I have a last chapter to write!

Not that I want to end this story, but I have such a juicy ending prepared I just can’t wait to write it!! ^^

Anyhow, this was a little bit of backstory before the actual end. Roman already had his, so now it was time for V’s. And that brings us to the last chapter coming soon.

Also some more art because I feel like drawing V and all his forms. Ya know, all the forms of evil :3.

Okay XD It’s late and I’m just spewing out words now.

As always, hope you liked the chapter! <3

Tag list:

@romano-hottopic

@vpow

@a-formless-entity

@lovelivingmydreams

@alice-only-me

#of the devil's head #Virgil the king of hell #Roman the thief #prinxiety #anxiety sanders #virgil sanders #ts virgil #roman sanders #ts roman #creativity sanders #ts remi #remi aka sleep #sleep sanders #thomas sanders #sander's sides #what else should I tag

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kiarcheo · 3 years

Text

A Whole New World 2/10

Jane and Kat find out there is more to each other…and to the new world they have found themselves in.

Read on Ao3 too

AN: I have seen Anne’s date of birth ranging from 1501 to 1507, and Jane’s between 1504 and 1509. For the sake of this story I consider Anne born in 1501 and consequently dying at 35, and Jane being born in 1508 and dying at 28.

Kat came back at 18 and Jane at 22, Anna, Cathy and Anne in their late twenties, and Catalina in her early thirties.

——————————————–

It becomes a regular thing. Sometimes it’s a museum Kat has already visited, sometimes a new one on the list she keeps of places she wants to see. They often make a day of it, treating themselves to lunch (usually at Jane’s initiative, since Kat tends to forego eating in favour of whatever has caught her interest), exploring parts of the city unknown to them.

One evening, close to dusk, they are walking through an empty park when Kat stops. ‘Have you ever wanted to try them out?’

‘Try what?’ Jane follows the direction of Kat’s gaze. ‘That?’

‘They look like fun.’

‘They are for children.’

‘Who said that? Besides, there are no children around...’ Kat trails off, eyebrow raised waiting for a response.

‘You know what? Why not?’

Kat lets out a small squeal before grabbing Jane’s hand and dragging her towards the playground.

‘Remember when you said “who said that they are just for children”?’ Jane asks as they are sitting on the platform, feet dangling down, recovering their breath and cooling down.

‘You mean, like, half an hour ago?’

‘Smartass.’ Jane gives her a look, before pointing to a sign. ‘Children’s Play Area. Only children under the age of 12 may use this play area.’

‘Well, technically we haven’t been back for that long?’

Jane shakes her head amused. Kat is so cheeky and she would have never guessed before spending so much time with her.

‘So what was your favourite part?’ she asks after a bout of silence. That is another thing that changed. Before, silent moments were much more common and awkward, now their quiet spells are rarer and yet infinitely more comfortable.

‘You falling off those.’ Kat motions with her head towards the monkey bars, getting a glare in response. ‘What about yours?’

‘The slides, I’d say.’

‘Yeah, they are nice. But too short, don’t you think?’

‘I know, right? By the time you pick up speed, you’re already at the end,’ Jane agrees. ‘They should make them longer. Adult-sized.’

‘Wait!’ Kat whips out her phone. ‘Let me...’

And Jane lets her. She has learnt that Kat's curiosity is insatiable. If she stumbles upon something she doesn’t know or doesn’t understand…she has to look it up. So many times, when their fellow queens mention (usually complain, actually) that Kat is always glued to her phone, Jane has been tempted to tell them that most of the time she is learning something new...but if Kat had not told them – not even if she would probably spare herself their scolding – then it’s not her place to tell them.

‘They exist!’ Kat exclaims angling the screen towards Jane. ‘Look! They even have playgrounds for adults!’

They look together at the photos for a while before Kat taps on a Wikipedia link, her first port of call every time. ‘Amusement parks,’ she starts to read the entry aloud before being interrupted by a text notification popping up on the screen.

Kat groans as she reads it.

‘What?’

‘Curfew,’ Kat sighs. ‘Apparently it’s late and they are wondering why I’m not home yet.’ She knows it’s because they care but... ‘Did you get one too?’

Jane checks her phone. ‘No.’

Kat sighs again. ‘One dies young once and she is forever treated like a baby.’ She notices the look Jane is sending her. ‘Please don’t start.’

‘I didn’t say anything.’

‘I can't make a joke that everyone freaks out thinking I’m depressed or having a breakdown or a flashback or something.’

Jane remembers clearly one of those occasions. They had been discussing nightmares and how everyone seemed to have them except Kat, who had commented that perhaps losing her head had meant losing everything that had been inside that too. She also remembers very clearly thinking that the reactions had been a bit disproportionate compared to Kat’s offhand tone and casual demeanour.

‘Sometimes a girl just wants to be self-deprecating. Or joke about her own death without being psychoanalysed and having people wanting to talk about your trauma.’

‘I get it. I said once that I had no time with Edward. I was just...stating a fact. I was not looking for pity or anything. But they tripped over themselves to reassure me that I was still his mother – which of course! – and that I’m still a mother now. And honestly. One has a child once and she is forever just a mother in everyone’s eyes. Don’t get me wrong. I wish I could have seen Edward grow up. Wish I could have been his mother. Properly. But I wasn’t. And out of all of us, I’m the one who had less time with children. Besides you, I was the youngest one to die. So I have no idea why everyone thinks of me as this motherly figure?’

Aware that she has been ranting, Jane chances a look at Kat, who has a peculiar expression on her face.

‘What?’ she asks, feeling self-conscious.

‘I’m just thinking how happy I am that you joined me that day at the museum.’

That had been the true start of their relationship, despite having lived together for many months prior to that.

‘You mean you're happy I caught you sneaking out?’

Jane knows what she means, though. They would have never thought, and even less found, they had so many things in common. Or that they could get along so well and have so much fun together.

‘I was not sneaking out.’

Jane merely looks at her.

‘I thought nobody was home. It was just out of habit.’

‘So all the other times you sneaked out.’

Kat doesn’t reply, knowing Jane is doing it just to annoy her. They had a similar talk the second time they went to a museum together, Jane asking why they were sort of hiding their trip. It was not that Kat thought they would stop her if they knew she was going out. But she just didn’t want to deal with their questions. About where she was going, why, why she was going alone, when she was coming back...Just easier to leave without them knowing and then simply tell them she had been out if they asked having noticed she had not been home. In their defence, they knew better than to pry and as long as she was home safely, they would let it go despite being curious.

‘I know you’re the one in charge of our museum days,’ Jane starts, ‘but I wanted to run an idea by you.’

‘Of course we can go to a museum of your choice. You don’t need to ask permission or whatever.’

‘Wait before agreeing.’

‘Is it the Tower?’ Kat winces with a grimace, trying to think of places still standing that Jane might be wary of asking her to visit.

Jane stops rummaging in her bag, her head shooting up. ‘What the fuck, Katherine??’

The younger girl is so lost in unpleasant memories that she doesn't even react to Jane’s swearing nor her full naming her. ‘Hampton Court?’

‘Why would I ever do something like that?’ Jane recoils. ‘God, no! The Clink.’

‘As-’

‘The prison! Not the-’

‘Brothels?’ Kat completes, eyebrow raised in amusement. Then she nods, almost to herself. The area had been known for two main things…the prison and for allowing usually forbidden activities.

‘Yes. I mean, they made a prison museum. You know I like true crime and–’

Yes. That had been a surprise. When Kat had asked if there was something she particularly enjoyed reading and learning about, like she loved history, that had definitely not been the answer she had expected. Jane must have known that, considering how much she hummed and hawed before caving after Kat had called bullshit – literally – on her non-committal answer.

‘–I think I’d like to– but I don’t want to, like, trigger you?’

‘What’s inside, exactly?’

Jane finally finds what she has been looking for in her bag and hands her a leaflet.

‘You know what?’ Kat takes a look at it. ‘We can go and you can...scout it out?’ She doesn’t see anything upsetting in the pictures, but there will be so much more in the museum that they can show in a single leaflet. ‘You can take a look before me and if you think there is something that might…disturb me, you tell me and I’ll skip that room?’

‘Really?’

‘I mean, you know I'm not too fussed about death and stuff like that as long as it’s not too bloody. Or neck-related.’

She is not too keen on watching documentaries with Jane, but she doesn’t mind listening to her talking about them. Or about whatever serial killer or unsolved crime she is currently reading about.

‘Thank you.’ Jane squeezes her arm, hoping Kat knows it’s not about agreeing to her request, but for her trust. ‘On an unrelated note...food?’

Jane’s constant preoccupation with food is another thing put down to her supposedly maternal instinct, a desire to make sure everyone is well-fed. The truth is…Jane loves eating. Being able to enjoy doing so without the ever-present worry of looking unladylike. Discovering new foods. She doesn’t eat a lot, but she needs to eat often, or she becomes…hangry, it’s what Kat called it. And it is only polite to ask if the others are feeling peckish too and want to join her. Moreover, she knows it’s one thing she can’t rely on Kat for, seeing as she is prone to skip meals if there is anything else she deems more important or interesting.

‘Do you think Catalina would consider this as traditional local food or...?’ Jane wonders aloud as she dips the churro in the plastic pot holding the chocolate sauce.

‘Possibly? Even if they were not invented by Spanish shepherds but brought by the Portuguese from China like some say, I think everyone agrees that by the 16th century they existed in Spain. And look, Romans had fried pastry, so, if not exactly that, something similar. And naturally cacao came to Europe after the Spanish invaded the Americas, so it arrived in Spain first, although if it was just after Cortés, Catalina would have been already in England…so she might have never tried churros with chocolate? Not sure when they started to combine the two, to be honest…’ Kat trails off. ‘What?’

‘Next person who says you’re stupid, I’ll deck them.’

Kat chuckles, bumping her hip into hers. ‘I appreciate the offer.’

‘It’s not an offer, it’s a promise.’

‘Ever thought about getting a car?’ Jane asks after they have been walking for a while.

‘Why? Tired? But not really. Honestly just the idea of getting into one and driving it myself is kind of terrifying.’

Jane nods. It sounds a bit like airplanes for her. It still boggles her mind that humans can fly. And she knows they are mostly safe and all, but it doesn’t mean she is keen on trying them out for herself.

‘I thought about getting a bicycle and learning how to ride,’ Kat continues.

‘Why don’t you?’

‘Yeah, and where would I hide it?’

‘Why would you need to hide it?’ Jane is puzzled enough to ignore Kat’s tone verging on the sarcastic rhetorical question inflection that usually implies someone had just asked a very stupid question.

‘With the potential of me getting hurt? Straying away, getting lost, or whatever? I don’t know if you have noticed, but the others tend to be a bit overprotective.’

And a bit is a euphemism. Don’t get her wrong. It is nice to have people caring and worrying about her. But she spent a lifetime fending for herself. And yes, she had her struggles, and the end might have been inglorious, but Anne wound up the same way and yet nobody questions her…or her capabilities. And okay, that might have something to do with age, but nobody cared about that before, and she had been a bloody queen (and quite a successful one, if she says so herself, at least before her past caught up with her)! Still, she doesn’t want to think how worse it would be if she had come back younger than she had been at the time of her death like the others did.

‘What are you thinking about?’ Jane asks, realising she is miles away, lost in thoughts.

‘How weird it would be if we had come back the same age we died. Well, besides me, obviously.’ She hopes she’ll be there to see it in person, but she can’t really think about Catalina as a 50-years-old woman or Anna in her forties. ‘And about how there is a fine line between heart-warming care and overbearing concern.’

Because, back to the point, she might have been more or less successful, but she is used to rely just on herself and getting by, not to have four other women, Jane to a lesser extent, being overly concerned about her. For certain matters, at least. Because for other things they seem perfectly happy to…perhaps not ignore her, but surely leave her to her own devices, without trying to get her involved. And she is often more than content with it, she will admit that…except that often it also leads to remarks about how she spends all her time at home, always in front a screen, and perhaps she should go out more? And then instead of standing up all night on her phone, she would tire herself out and sleep?

‘So you don’t want to check this out?’

Kat had not even realised they were walking past a sporting goods store.

‘Look! You could easily hide that.’ Jane points out to a small, colourful, tricycle, clearly meant for children.

‘Ah ah. Very funny.’ Sarcasm is heavy in Kat’s voice, but she follows her in.

‘What about this?’

‘A unicycle? Really? Have you ever seen one of those around, in public?’

Jane takes a moment to think about it. ‘Don’t think so.’

‘Exactly. Because they belong in the circus.’

‘One might say our house is a circus.’ They certainly have some chaotic days.

‘And you a clown.’

Jane gasps in mock offence. ‘I miss the days when you were afraid of me.’

‘I was never afraid of you. I was indifferent. And thought you were a stuck-up bore. Also, I know you don’t miss it.’

‘True,’ Jane admits easily. ‘Joking aside. We could put them in the shed?’

She had said once that she didn’t mind taking care of the garden and suddenly she had been left in charge of it, gardening apparently a passion of hers she didn’t even know she had. She supposes that it was deemed an appropriate hobby for boring old plain Jane (and yes, the fact that it is her actual name and not just a phrase in her case does not escape her), just like embroidery. She enjoys both of them, sure, but she is fairly confident the others think that’s all she does, no other interests – oh wait, there is cooking, or at least making sure that everyone is eating too! – which is something she tries not to dwell on too much because that’s frankly a bit (or a lot, depending on how she feels on the day) insulting.

‘We? Them?’ Kat raises an eyebrow. ‘But yes, we could store them there, but not really hide them if anyone happens to look inside. And certainly not two of them.’

Still, they continue to peruse the store.

‘What about these?’ Jane calls Kat’s attention, holding a pair of rollerblades up. ‘I’ve seen kids with them, can’t be that hard, can it?’ she continues once the girl comes over, looking interested.

‘Shoes on wheels? We’re so gonna die.’

Jane starts to put them back, slightly dejected, but Kat snatches them up. ‘Let’s do this.’

‘Yeah?’ She looks at her, tentative grin on her face.

Kat nods with gleeful smile. ‘Absolutely.’

#six the musical fanfiction #six the musical #jane and kat #six fanfiction #fic: a whole new world #six fanfic #six the musical fanfic #mywork #six jane seymour #six katherine howard #six fic #six the musical fic #my ideas #six writing #my six posts #sixfic #my posts

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marypsue · 3 years

Text

You all definitely wanted a sneak preview of the sequel to the kids aren’t alright, you just didn’t know it yet.

...

So far, the town of Hawkins, Indiana has not impressed Max Mayfield much.

She’s not Billy – she’s not offended by the sheer fact of Hawkins’ existence, let alone its having the audacity to exist in the same space as her. The arcade’s okay, though the game selection is small and mostly out of date. And the pack of stalkers who’ve latched onto her seem like they’re pretty alright. As stalkers go.

But there’s really nowhere good to ride her board, and the dinky movie theatre downtown’s still playing shows that are nearly a month old instead of anything that came out this week. And the handful of girls she’s met here so far have been really prissy, and snotty about her board and her clothes and her nickname. And she can’t hear the surf or see the water stretching all the way out to the horizon or dig her toes in the sun-warmed sand or even have a seagull steal her fries out of her hand on the boardwalk. And all her friends and her dad and her favourite aunt are all back in California and she’s stuck here, in the armpit of Indiana, with Billy and Neil.

As far as Max is concerned, the pros of moving to Hawkins have not in any way outweighed the cons.

Still, she wouldn’t have made it this far in life if she hadn’t figured out, pretty early on, how to roll with the punches. And when to come back up swinging.

It’s chilly, here, in the dark, on the last night of October. Max tucks her hands under her arms and stamps her feet, wishing she’d worn something a little thicker under her navy blue hoodie. The rubber Michael Myers mask somehow managed to both be hot and uncomfortable and to not warm any part of her up, at all.

Add one to the minus column for Hawkins: the cold.

“Are they even coming?” she asks, and Stalker #2 – Dustin – gives her a look that makes her think of an irritated puppy. One who’s about to start shredding shoes if he doesn’t get some attention.

“They said they’d be here.”

“Yeah, like half an hour ago.”

“It’s been thirteen minutes,” Stalker #1 – Lucas – points out, like Max was actually keeping track.

“Which is twelve minutes longer than we should’ve waited. Come on. All the good candy’s gonna be gone by the time we get out there.”

“Wait, I see them!” Dustin crows, turning and rising up on his toes, waving one arm enthusiastically over his head at the two skinny, pale, dark-haired junior Ghostbusters and the walking white sheet with them who’re coming around the corner. Max still isn’t totally convinced that Stalkers #3 and #4 – Mike and Will – aren’t secretly twins, separated at birth. They’re definitely joined at the hip enough. Except for the fact that Will seems like he might be an actual human being, while Mike acts like a complete troll in a stolen human skin every time he’s around her, Max would have a hard time keeping their names straight.

Maybe if they didn’t have, like, the exact same terrible bowl cut.

“I see what took you so long,” Max says, looking over at the third kid, the one in the sheet. She has absolutely no idea who it could be. At school, these four seem to keep pretty much to themselves. A younger sibling, maybe? A tall younger sibling? “Did you have a lot of trouble busting this fearsome ghost?”

Nobody seems to fully appreciate her brilliant joke. Nobody really says anything, either, just shoot a bunch of meaningful, glowering looks around at each other, and Dustin says, “Mike,” like it’s a warning.

Honestly. Boys.

“Hi. I’m Max,” Max says, to the kid in the sheet, ignoring the stalker squad’s latest weirdness. “Short for Maxine. Max Mayfield. I just moved from California.”

Sheet Kid just stands there. It’s a little hard to tell, with the cut-out eyeholes, but Max thinks whoever it is is just staring at her.

“El,” the kid says, at last, and huh. It’s a girl. “Short for -”

“Eleanor!” Mike interrupts, squeaking a little on the second syllable. “Short for Eleanor.”

Sheet Kid – El – twists her whole upper body to look at him. Even without being able to see her face, Max can read the flat, deadpan sarcasm in the move.

She likes Sheet Kid already.

“Yes. Eleanor,” Sheet Kid says, like she’s talking to a particularly slow kindergartner. “I was going to say that, Mike.”

“Yeah, Mike,” Max agrees. “She can talk for herself.” She looks back over at Sheet Kid – El – and asks, “So, El. Do you go to our school? I can’t tell if I’ve seen you around before. With the…sheet.”

“Ghost,” El says, matter-of-fact. A little weird, but whatever.

“She’s, uh, homeschooled,” Mike interrupts, again.

Max looks over at El, who just stares back. “Yes. I do school at home.”

That is the weirdest way Max has ever heard anybody say they’re homeschooled. But, well…she’s homeschooled.

And all of a sudden, everything clicks. The sheet, the weird way this girl talks, the old-fashioned name, the fact that none of the boys have even mentioned her before now, the death glares they were all shooting each other when she showed up…

This is rural Indiana. Home of weirdo fundie cranks. El probably isn’t even supposed to be here tonight. Probably her parents think Halloween is ‘devil worship’, or something stupid like that. Max wonders if El’s ever even been trick-or-treating before, or if this is her first time.

Well. If it is…then Max is going to help make it memorable.

“Okay. You wanna get this party started?” she asks El, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder. “I heard they give out full-sized candy bars over in Loch Nora. Wherever that is.”

There’s a moment, during which Max gets the sense that El’s giving this all the consideration of someone standing with a hand poised over the big red button, before her sheet bobs in a nod. “Yes.”

Max so does not need any more permission than that. “Cool. Come on!”

#stranger things #this is mary's fic tag

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melon-wing · 4 years

Text

Dread Part 3

[PIRATE AU MASTERLIST] Doc had been restless for days now. He was short tempered with everyone around him and except for Ren everybody was trying not to cross paths too often with him. Every day he hoped news would reach him. He had sent more money than usual to his spy in the navy to make sure he'd find out everything he could about Grian. They should have rescued him by now. They should have found Bdubs by now. Why hadn't they? According to his informant the navy was still searching near the northern sea. And according to Doc's network of informants Bdubs was nowhere near that area. Why the hell where those idiots still searching in the wrong part of the world? If they had just saved Grian by now, Doc wouldn’t be such a mess.

Doc had been so close to giving the order to follow Bdubs. He had seen the hope in Ren’s eyes every time he had stepped out of his quarters about to change course. He had held back every time. No one was worth the lives of his crew. They were his family after all. They had always been there for him. They had been by his side through all the bad and good times when everyone else had abandoned him. He just couldn’t bear the burden of getting one of them killed, even if it meant losing Grian.

Sure, maybe their latest adventures had been only in the southern part of the sea, but that was just... just... Oh fuck, who was he trying to fool? He knew why. He wanted to be close by in case he decided to change his mind and sail straight into Bdubs’ trap. He didn’t want to endanger his friends, but a little voice had kept telling him that he should risk it. Or at least part with his crew and run in alone, try to bargain for Grian’s release if he himself stayed back as Bdub’s prisoner. He had always managed to suppress those urges, though he knew that his resolve was crumbling bit by bit every day without news of the navy rescuing Grian.

The door to his cabin flew open and Doc composed himself a little, slowly turning around to face Ren, whose face was as white as a sheet, his fist balled around a piece of fabric.

"Are there any news?", Doc's voice was strained. He had been asking that question too often lately. And he dreaded and hoped for news at the same time these days.

"Etho... Etho and False met with one of Bdubs’ men today."

Doc nodded, his lips a thin line. He should have known his crew wouldn't hold as still as he had ordered them to. He should have stopped their dangerous plans, but he had let them go on, because deep down he hoped it would help. "What did they find out?"

Ren hesitated and then held up his hand and what Doc had thought was just some old cleaning rag unfolded.

Doc’s eyes widened, his heart seemed to stop and then begin to race like crazy. No. No! This couldn’t be… But Doc would know that shirt anywhere. He'd spend so much time watching Grian…

The fabric on the back of the shirt was hanging in shreds and completely stained with blood. Doc took a step back, leaning against his desk, when he felt his legs beginning to shake. He could feel his breathing starting to become faster and he grabbed onto the desk hard, trying to calm himself. He took a deep breath, but every time his eyes travelled back to the blood, it felt like someone stabbed his heart, making it hard for him to stay composed. He knew Bdubs’ methods. He knew what the state of that shirt meant for Grian.

"Doc...? We have to-"

"No. No we don't." Doc's voice was shaking and so much higher than his usual commanding tone as he replied and he took another breath to calm himself, trying to push all his emotions down. He finally averted his eyes from the bloody shirt, knowing that looking at it would stop him from thinking rational. "We really don't. I don't want to see your clothes full of blood next, Ren. I can’t... Tell the crew to set sail. We are heading north. As far away as possible from them."

He just couldn't. He couldn't let his emotions win. No matter how much he wanted to. He was a Captain. Their Captain. He alone carried the responsibility to ensure the crew’s safety.

Ren stayed silent for a while and Doc sighed, lowering his gaze a little, not ready to face the disappointment he was sure to find on his friend’s face.

Suddenly a knife whizzed past Doc’s head, grazing his hair and cutting a few strands before burying itself into the wall behind him.

Doc's gaze snapped up and he looked at Ren furiously, his furry mirrored back at him on Ren’s face. “Now you listen, you little piece of shit-”, Doc growled out, but he was soon interrupted by Ren’s raised voice.

“No, Doc. You will listen to me. I’m gonna be blunt and talk to you not as my Captain, but as my friend.”

"Don't you already do that all the time?", Doc huffed, still annoyed.

"Doc. We will sail south. I will give the crew the order with, or without your permission. You are welcome to kick me off the ship once we rescued Grian. I know you want to protect all of us, but we don't need to be coddled. We all want you to be happy!"

"I am happy."

"Yeah... yeah you are. But you are happier when you are with him. Stop trying to pretend your feelings don't exist!"

"I..." Doc shook his head. "It's not like that."

"Stop lying to yourself. I know it, you know it. We all know it here. You love Grian. You're in love with him."

Doc’s anger faded from one second to the next, his eyes widening at Ren’s statement, all of his thoughts coming to an abrupt halt.

“What?”

Ren’s face softened as well, the anger all gone from their conversation. “Doc… You can’t tell me you never realised. You are treating nobody like him. The way you flirt with him.”

“I flirt with a lot of people!”, Doc protested. Sure, he was rather fond of Grian and enjoyed their time together. Grian was a pretty attractive guy and he wouldn’t mind having some fun with him, but in love? That was going a bit far… wasn’t it?

“Not since you met him. Every other conversation we have is about Grian. Since he’s been captured you’re falling deeper and deeper into a hole and it pains us all to see it. Doc, you are like a brother to me. All I want is for you to be happy, even if it means we are risking our lives.”

Doc couldn’t stop thinking about what Ren said. The word ‘love’ was constantly repeating in his thoughts. His gaze travelled to the fabric in Ren’s hand again and a cold realisation washed over him at the same time as dread grabbed his heart. “I love him…”

Doc paused and then pushed of the desk, a determined expression on his face as he walked up to Ren and took the shirt out of his hand, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

Doc stepped past his First Mate and out of the cabin. Everyone on the deck stopped to look at him, waiting. Doc lowered his gaze, looking at the shirt. He took a deep breath, raising his head again, pressing the bloody shirt against his chest where his heart was beating in excitement.

“Set sail! We are heading south. Prepare yourselves for a battle!”

Grian was awoken with a sudden start, as a bucket of water was dumped over him. The water ran down his back and it cost him a lot not to scream, as the saltwater got into the wounds. He bit down hard, forcing himself to stay completely silent until the worst of the pain passed. Slowly he turned his head a little, looking into the smiling face of one of Bdubs’ crew members. It was someone else than before, so they must be watching him in shifts. He felt like he had seen this one's face before, but he really wasn't sure anymore. This torture had been going for hours now. The sun had long set, but every time he managed to fall asleep in this uncomfortable position, still tied to the mast, kneeling on the floor, someone inflicted pain on him to wake him once more. He felt like he was losing his mind.

"Wakey, wakey, little prince. No sleeping for you on the Captain's orders. He wants you broken beyond repair before you die."

Grian managed to glare at the pirate out of tired eyes, but kept his mouth shut. He knew that talking back only meant more pain. He had given up talking back after the second hour. It made him feel like he was failing. There was a hand on his back, fingers pressing painfully into his wounds and then nails were scratching down his back. He began shaking once more but kept quiet.

"Such a pity that we have to get rid of you. You are a good fighter. You could have been part of this crew. The Captain could have broken you and build you up again into a perfect little puppet. But since you won't be... You know I never got my revenge for you making an idiot out of me in front of the Captain."

Grian almost groaned in annoyance at his luck. That's why the pirate's face had seemed vaguely familiar. It was one of the men that had attacked him when he'd been with Keralis. Or rather one of the guy that Grian beat up without even breaking into sweat.

"It's your own fault, you got yourself into this situation, really. Getting involved with our Captain's former lover... Never a good idea.", the pirate taunted and looked even more amused when Grian's eyes widened. "Oh, little boy, don't tell me you didn't know? Our Captain and your lover boy go way, way back. I'm glad he decided on Keralis in the end. That weakling Doc wouldn't have been worthy of our Captain's attention."

"Doc... He and Bdubs...", Grian repeated, his voice raspy from the amount of screaming he had done. But he just couldn’t keep it in.

"Oh so now you can speak? Gotten curious?" The moment Grian opened his mouth again, those fingernails pressed deep into one of the worse wounds and Grian screamed loudly, his body shaking even harder. "Got you there, our little songbird. But try not to be too loud. The Captain and his Mate want to sleep. You wouldn't want to disturb them now, would you? Keralis is really moody when he doesn't get enough sleep. All he has done so far will seem like gentle touches compared to that."

Grian swallowed and shut his mouth once again, not daring to risk another sound passing his lips. The pirate grinned smugly, as if he was taking Grian's silence as a challenge. "It's a pity I'm not allowed to break you too bad. That honour goes to the Captain. But what do you say about playing a little game?" The sound of fabric rustling and then Grian flinched when cold metal touched his back. The blade of the knife gently traced over his back, not pressing down deep enough to break any more skin. Still Grian's breath hitched and he tried to press himself closer to the mast, to get away from it. "I will ask you a few questions. For every wrong answer I'll leave a mark. For every answer I don't like I leave an even bigger mark. Understood?"

Grian didn't react and the pressure on the blade increased, making his heart beat faster.

“Understood?!

"Yes...", he whispered against the mast, trying to steel himself for what was about to come.

“Do you have any navy secrets that could help us?”

“Most likely not more than the guys Bdubs is paying”, Grian shot back, his expression darkening at the thought of the traitor in their midst. If he could control the search efforts for Grian he must be pretty high up the ladder.

The pirate behind him only laughed in amusement. “Well that would be true. Isn’t that lucky for you? No secrets I can torture out of you.” The pirate didn’t really sound like he thought it was a good thing. He seemed to be rather disappointed. That was, until another question came to his mind.

"What's Doc's weakness? Despite you of course."

Grian pressed his lips together. His mind flashing back to his countless battles with Doc, to all of their interactions. To the way he went feral, when one of his crew members was in serious trouble, blinded by fury. The blind spot he had when Grian attacked from a certain angle.

"He has none. You weaklings won't stand a chance against him", Grian spat out and then pressed his lips together, knowing very well what was about to come.

"Wrong answer." The knife dug into his skin at his side, blood flowing as a straight cut was made downwards. Grian pressed his teeth together almost painfully hard, but he managed to stay silent.

"What a nice game you two are playing. I also have a question..."

Grian froze when he heard Bdub's voice and steps coming closer. They must have woken him up. Oh shit, he really was in trouble now. Because while all of the pirates here were cruel, they still held back. The pirate behind Grian stepped back, but it only took about a second for the blade to appear at his back again, this time lower, right above his waistband. Before he even asked a question, Bdubs already started carving, a straight line and some curves. He chuckled darkly and then stopped for a second.

"I’ve always wondered. Tell me, Grian. How come you are alive?"

Grian turned his head, trying to look at Bdubs in confusion.

"What...?"

"Wrong answer."

The blade moved once more, another straight line and a curved, like he was tracing some pattern. Grian whimpered in pain and he hated himself for once again showing this much weakness, but he refused to shed any tears, no matter how much his body wanted to betray him.

"I... I don't know what you are talking about. I really don’t!"

Bdubs huffed, sounding almost annoyed that Grian hadn’t gotten his vague question. His free hand caressed the cuts he just made in a mockery of gentleness, smearing the blood over Grian's back. "Let me refresh your memory then. Ten years ago. On Gedwyld Island." Grian's breath hitched and he could hear the smirk in Bdubs voice now. "Ah, so you do remember. How interesting. Your name is not a funny coincidence then. I had my suspicions, but I wasn’t sure until now. You really did grow up there."

"Why do you know about that? How...?"

"Oh Grian, isn't it obvious? I was there. I was part of the crew that raided your island. I was standing guard outside the orphanage where we were looking for the boy."

Grian's mind flashed back to the fire and the screams, to the pirates roaming the streets, to the two pirates guarding the main entrance of the orphanage. He couldn't remember anything about them. He hadn't even been able to see their faces, so focused on trying to hide. Could one of them have been Bdubs? How else was he supposed to know about all of this?

"Funny thing you know. We found a lot of kids there, searching for our target. And one of them told us his name was Grian. Pretty black haired boy. Real hero, making sure all his little friends escaped, promising to bring us who we were looking for if we let them go. My mate put a bullet through his heart. Tell me... How did you survive that one?"

Grian froze up completely. "What?" he asked, his voice breaking and unnaturally high.

"You heard me the first time, pet", Bdubs huffed as if he was speaking to a little child, carving one more curved line into Grian's lower back. Grian sucked in air and whimpered in pain. It wasn't as bad as the constant whipping. He could suppress his screams easier, but it still hurt like hell. "How did you survive?"

Grian swallowed. His mind racing with images of that day. The pirate and Taurtis standing in that room. Hadn't the pirate said something about Taurtis being the boy they were looking for? And Taurtis had agreed to that. Grian had always wondered what that had meant and why someone had been after Taurtis.

Did that mean...?

"Answer me now, pet, and you better not be lying." The knife was resting against his skin, the threat clear in Bdubs’ voice.

"They shot my friend, not me", Grian whispered, his voice shaking as it dawned on him that he had been the one meant to die that day and not Taurtis. "He... Oh god. He pretended to be me?"

Bdubs made a thoughtful noise behind him and thankfully didn't continue carving right away. "So we got the wrong one, huh? That guy really was an idiot believing some suicidal kid. If it had been me in there, I would have asked for prove. Still, what a foolish boy, dying for someone else. Was he your boyfriend or what?"

Grian froze, his heart racing, his breathing becoming quicker. The locket against his chest was feeling heavier than it had ever done before. Bdubs behind him was silent for a few seconds and then he burst out laughing.

"Oh you poor thing. Always loosing. No wonder you are not falling into Doc's arms already, playing the strong soldier. You are scared to lose him. Well too late, pet", Bdubs said, humming to himself and then the knife was back against his skin, just resting there.

"Now tell me, Grian. Who did you piss of so much that they sent a whole pirate crew after you?"

How was Grian supposed to know that? Up until a second ago he hadn't even known that the attack had been directed at him. He didn’t even know what he was supposed to think anymore. He stayed silent for a second too long and the blade dug into his skin again, carving a straight line and two curved ones and Grian gasped, at the realisation what Bdubs was doing behind him. That gasp turned into a whimper. It wasn’t just some random pattern he had been carving.

"No... Don't do that", he pleaded, earning himself another smug chuckle from the Pirate Captain.

"Finally noticed? Took you long enough, pet. We both now I can't stop now. We are almost done after all. But depending on your answer I might make the cut a little less deep."

Grian pressed his lips together, his whole body trembling. He wanted to cry so badly, but he couldn't show more weakness then he already had. Once he gave up, he'd break. And if he was to die, he at least wanted to die in dignity. Or as much dignity as he had left right now.

"I don't know why, I swear. I didn't even know that they were supposed to kill me. I'm... I'm just an orphan. I wasn't even in the navy back then. I know nothing about...", Grian trailed off, his voice growing quiet as he almost inaudibly whispered the last words, "... my parents."

"Oh?" Bdubs sounded even more interested now and Grian wished he had just kept quiet. Bdubs being interested in something would only be more pain. "What about your parents? Were they some big names in the navy?"

Grian shook his head, remaining silent and the knife broke through his skin once more, going deeper than before. While Bdubs had been quick with his cuts before he took his time now, slowly dragging the knife along in a curvy line. Bdubs other hand was also back at his back, fingernails digging into one of his open cuts. "Tell me what you know."

Grian wanted to resist, he really did, but he was tired and his back felt like it was on fire. And what good was resisting anyways? He was about to die in a few days. His information would be useless to Bdubs and not worth being in pain over it. The voice in his head telling him to hold on was getting smaller and smaller. Resistance wouldn't help him. There was no hope left.

"I don't know my mother... But my father was a pirate. The navy tried to keep me a secret for whatever reason”, he finally replied, his voice sounding empty, even to his own ears.

The knife finally left his back and a hand was back, tracing the lines on his back. He could hear the smirk in Bdubs’ voice. "See. That wasn't so hard. Now. Do you know by any chance who your father was?"

Grian shook his head, his whole body tensing, expecting another wave of pain to hit him for being unable to answer. The pain didn't come. Bdubs bent forward, his lips close to Grian's ear, making shushing noises, while gently caressing his back.

"Shhh. It's alright, pet. You did well. I'm proud of you."

And while he had held back during the torture and through all the pain, tears were now running down his face. He suddenly felt dirty and so weak. The hand on his back moved lower to the freshly made cuts, tracing them carefully.

"My name does look really pretty on you, my little pet."

#🍉 stories #pirate au #tw: blood #tw: knives #I am once again sorry #This isn't getting any better #But yay feelings!#Go get your man doc!

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

OWL POST AGAIN

Remus hated to be the one to get their attention, to remind them there was still a chapter left, but he figured they may as well get this all over with sooner rather than later. They'd have more than enough to be dealing with later as is. Lily came down the stairs with the baby, but decided to hand him over to James while Remus got started.

Hermione was trying to get Harry's attention, telling him they had ten minutes left to get to the hospital wing before Dumbledore locked the door.

"The fact that you still somehow pulled all of that off is a miracle," Lily muttered.

They began running down the spiral stairs of the tower,

Sirius couldn't help but wonder if this was the same tower Hermione and Harry had been caught on with Norbert, and how much trouble he could have left his pup in if he was discovered helping him. They may be almost done but he felt like his worries would never end.

and as they reached the bottom and began tearing through corridors, they had to come to a quick stop as they heard Snape saying that he hoped Dumbledore wouldn't cause a fuss about Black receiving the Kiss.

Remus ground his teeth together as he forced that out. He just couldn't believe anyone was okay with this punishment, that the Minister had given his permission for it to happen! The only reason he wasn't still shouting about it was because Sirius had gotten away, but that didn't make what they'd tried to do feel any better.

Fudge agreed it would happen the moment Macnair arrived with the dementors, and how grateful he was this whole matter was to be over, how much he was looking forward to telling the Daily Prophet about this.

"Ha!" James snapped, no real humor to be found as he scowled at the book, though briefly distracted when his infant took advantage to their proximity and made a grab for his glasses. The father had a chore for a few moments getting them back from the tight little fists.

Fudge even said that when Harry came back to his right sense he'd probably want to tell the Prophet all about how Snape saved them all.

Harry made some gagging noises as he theatrically clutched his throat at the thought.

Finally the voices passed by, and they kept running for some time until Harry heard Peeves approaching, and they had to duck inside another classroom as the poltergeist went bouncing by with laughter. Hermione was muttering how terrible a thing he was, laughing about Sirius getting Kissed.

"Oh he wouldn't," Lily frowned. "He can't hate you that much. Why would he hate you at all?"

"I like to think Hermione may have just jumped to the wrong conclusion that time," Sirius agreed with his head cocked to the side. "He has no personal interest what happens to me, could be anything that's got him in such a good mood."

Then she warned Harry they only had three minutes left to get back, and as Peeves' voice floated away and they started running again, Harry asked what would happen if they didn't get back in time.

"Madam Pomfrey will know you got out," Lily guessed, "and you could get into a cart load of trouble."

"They can't prove anything," James said at once, bouncing around in unease because he knew how untrue that was. At least Snape would try to pin the whole thing on Harry, and since Fudge clearly liked him this could turn pretty nasty.

Hermione groaned she didn't want to know as they sprinted forward, the door finally coming into sight and Dumbledore saying what time it was and that he was going to lock them in.

"Did it say anything about Dumbledore not seeing you?" Remus asked, "because otherwise that really would have been impossible."

"I think Dumbledore's okay," Harry shrugged, "he did know about all of this after all, we just couldn't let him lock the doors."

Sirius was still cross eyed as he tried to work out that Hermione and Harry had just left to save him...but now they were arriving and talking to Dumbledore because they just had...man he hated time travel.

He began to shut the doors just as the two came barreling forward, and he smiled at the sight of them, asking if they'd accomplished everything. They agreed, and then Dumbledore pressed his ear to the door and agreed that they'd left as well.

"Because, you know, that's a sentence that exists now," James rolled his eyes.

He ushered them inside and then really did lock the door. The hospital wing was empty once again except for Ron who was still passed out.

Sirius cracked up laughing at that, imagining the poor kid's face when they had to explain all of that to him later.

Madam Pomfrey came back out in a very bad mood.

"I believe that," Remus nodded in sympathy.

Harry and Hermione thought it best to accept their chocolate quietly. Madam Pomfrey stood over them, making sure they ate it.

"Think it's kind of moot by this point," Lily shrugged, "since it's technically been what, three, almost four hours since that run in with the dementors, and since Harry warded them off the second time Harry never even got a second blast."

"Please stop," James moaned, "I've only just wrapped my head around this, don't make it worse."

"Just let them enjoy the chocolate in peace," Remus agreed.

Harry could hardly eat his share though, sitting tense on his bed, worrying and waiting for some kind of news, which he received by hearing a fearsome roar of outrage.

"Who wants to bet it's some new horror?" Remus sighed, trying to imagine what else could have happened tonight to cause that.

"Oh come on Remus, now you're just depressing me," Sirius tried to give a light laugh, though admittedly on the same page as him.

Madam Pomfrey was alarmed at the noise, demanding to know what that could be, but in answer, they heard Fudge trying to tell Snape that Black must have disapparated!

They couldn't help it, they all started laughing at once. Sirius had just gotten the best of Snape, and the man didn't even know how. He'd just had every last bit of false glory snatched away from him, and he deserved every second of it for what he'd tried to do to Sirius. Only Lily felt the tiny spot of pity, as he didn't know any better, he thought Sirius really had done all of those things, but what he'd tried to do wasn't forgivable. He could have listened to them, which she knew he never would, shouldn't have been out there in the first place, he'd only gone out to torment Remus. So even she couldn't help giggling a bit at this comeuppance.

He was reprimanding himself that they should have left someone in the room with him!

"Yeah, they should have-" Sirius rolled his eyes.

"But thank Merlin they didn't," James finished for him.

"I think Dumbledore might have had something to do with that," Remus said without any of his usual warmth in speaking of their old headmaster.

No one argued the idea, but they all noticed his tone, and he kept reading quickly before they could ask.

Snape wouldn't hear it though, storming through the hallways and screaming that this had something to do with Potter!

"Well he's not wrong," Harry smirked.

"But still," Lily shook her head at just how stupid and sad this display was. "His first thought is to jump to you? He doesn't even know why you'd help him, he has no idea about any of this, but his first instinct is to blame it all on you."

"They still can't prove anything," Remus grinned, as Harry and Hermione had the perfect alibi now.

Fudge tried to protest that, but then the door opened with a bang.

Five scowls were aimed at the book though, that bit of violence really was uncalled for.

They both came in, with Dumbledore who was the only one looking like he was enjoying the show.

Remus and Harry gave a happy little laugh, they found the Headmasters attitude perfect with their own, but nobody else still looked very pleased with him, still working out and wanting answers from him before they'd allow any good feelings to surface again.

Snape stormed over to Harry, demanding to know what he'd done!

"Yeah, cause he's really going to tell you," James rolled his eyes.

Both Madam Pomfrey and Fudge tried to calm Snape down, but he wouldn't hear of it as he shouted in the kid's faces that they'd helped Black escape!

"Best part is, he's actually right," Sirius cackled.

"Those were always the best moments," Remus agreed with an old smirk. "When he'd try to catch us at something, and he'd be the one telling the truth, but we still got off." His face fell at the end, old memories of the four of them laughing about this all day after the fact, and unable to picture that without going blood thirsty again, so moving on fast.

Fudge demanded he stop, he was talking crazy.

"Least he admits it now," Lily huffed.

Snape was adamant though, saying he knew he was right, but then Dumbledore interrupted by pointing out they'd been in the locked door this whole time, to which Madam Pomfrey confirmed. Dumbledore went on smoothly that unless Snape was implying they were in two places at once, it couldn't be done.

Remus full blown laughed as he realized Dumbledore had just told Snape what Harry and Hermione had done, and yet in such a tone they all knew it wasn't possible, they wouldn't have believed it if they hadn't just heard Harry's account.

Harry also got the realization that somehow Snape had been left out of the loop of Hermione's Time Turner, otherwise he would have thrown that out. Maybe Harry had been wrong before and Flitwick hadn't known about Hermione's secret either, Flitwick just hadn't questioned Hermione missing one class from her perfect attendance, so McGonagall probably had been the only teacher to know about it.

Snape froze as he looked at everyone, Fudge's shocked look,

"Goodbye Order of Merlin," Sirius sneered.

to Madam Pomfrey who looked mildly concerned, to Dumbledore who was still giving a small smile. Snape stormed out then without another word, and Fudge cautioned Dumbledore he should keep an eye on that one.

Harry couldn't help a small frown, wondering why that felt foreboding to him?

Dumbledore sighed though, saying that he understood Snape's feelings of disappointment.

"Disappointment!" Lily nearly shrieked. "He wanted to watch Sirius be, well murder would have been kinder!"

"Ge, thanks Lil," Sirius grumbled.

Fudge sighed that Snape wasn't the only one, how the newspapers were going to have a good laugh at him.

"Oh you poor thing." James snapped, his dislike of this minister growing more with every time he spoke. Every time he'd been mentioned all he'd seemed to care about was what the Prophet, and by extension, the public would think of him. He may be in his rights to do what had happened so far, but it didn't make any of them like him one little bit.

He would be humiliated between Black and that hippogriff getting away in one night. Before he left though, Dumbledore asked about the dementors, and Fudge agreed they'd have to be taken away as well.

"Thank you!" They sighed in relief, thinking that if one good thing had come of tonight, it was that! They didn't even care about the reason. Even if Harry did know how to get rid of them now, the last thing they wanted was him going near them again.

He couldn't condone their behavior of letting them try to Kiss Harry.

"Now how did he know about that?" Harry asked in surprise, he'd certainly not told anyone, and Sirius didn't even know, he'd passed out too soon to even tell Dumbledore, and Snape had shown up too late to see that.

Remus did not look happy to answer, but he hated talking about dementors at all so that wasn't new. "Dementors can, ah, communicate, but it's not something pleasant at all. When they wish to, they can string together thoughts in your head, putting together what they wish for you to understand what they're telling you. It's, unnerving to say the least. Honestly though, I'm surprised they would admit to doing it."

Sirius offered back, "well the Dementors don't have any sense of loyalty to the Ministry and as Hagrid says, they don't care about innocence, so telling Fudge that they were going to perform the Kiss wouldn't have stirred any sense of guilt in them. Harry was in the way of their mission, so they were just doing what came naturally to them-" he couldn't help but stutter for a bit right there, the vivid mental image still trying to suck the soul out of him now at his little pup in that situation. "They were probably just told to report what had happened, why they'd come after me and why they left, and they did."

Harry nodded in understanding, but still asked for more, "how did they know to come out there though?* Snape nor anyone ever got a chance to call for them."

James despised every last word he was using, it only served as more of a reminder of how long Sirius had to be there for this to be true, but he still offered, "they say if you're around a dementor enough, it gets ah, a sense for you. It can tell when you're nearby. That's also why they were even used as guards over just say Aurors, they didn't know about Sirius being a dog so the Ministry would have figured the dementors would sense him approaching miles before he got there. Now Sirius has been a dog all year, so they wouldn't have been able to tell that, but he came out of the Whomping Willow as a human talking to you, and the second he did that they would have sensed him and come swarming." He finished with one more great shudder, still feeling sick all over at the thought of this topic.

Harry decided he was out of questions for now, still knowing he'd much rather never have to deal with those things again then keep coming up with questions for them, but also trying to ignore the feeling saying that was wishful thinking.

No, they were too unmanageable, and they'd have to find something else to guard the school, maybe dragons.

Sirius groaned something unintelligible that none of them needed to translate. They all agreed anyways, they really hoped Fudge was kidding.

Dumbledore agreed Hagrid would enjoy that.

"Least someone would," Remus laughed.

Then they left as well, and Madam Pomfrey went back to her office, but the sounds of the doors closing again finally awoke Ron.

"Oh boy," Lily muttered, not exactly looking forward to hearing this story explained again in detail, she'd barely held it together the first time around.

He caught sight of his friends and at once began demanding to know where Sirius and Lupin were.

"Actually that one's a valid question," James frowned, getting a little twitchy as he realized they may not be as in the clear as he'd hoped. Remus hadn't exactly slipped his mind, but as Sirius' problems had been slightly more pressing he hadn't thought about it since Remus was last mentioned. Now he realized there was still a fall guy around, and it wasn't Harry. Snape himself had said he would try and get Remus Kissed along with Sirius, but while Sirius had made a run for it, Remus would probably wake up somewhere in the forest and come stumbling back up to school into the waiting arms of Merlin knew what.

Remus hardly looked concerned, he just gave a halfhearted shrug and tried to keep reading in the most nonchalant way possible. He'd already worked all of that out and knew he wouldn't have a problem dealing with those consequences, someone other than Sirius deserved them and because it was Remus' fault he'd gotten away, Remus would pay for it and wouldn't let his friends dwell on it any more than he could allow.

Harry helped himself to some chocolate as he told Hermione to explain.

Time skip to the next day, where a Hogsmeade visit was being enjoyed by most of the school, though the trio rather enjoyed spending their time out by the lake and talking about the previous night's events, and wondering where Sirius and Buckbeak were now.

"Wherever the nearest non extradition country is I would hope," Lily muttered.

Harry was lounging in the shade, absently watching the water and the giant squid floating just underneath the surface, his mind across the shore where he'd seen his own patronus stag gallop towards him...

James still gave a happy little smile at that reminder, beaming down at his infant son and cooing to him with pleasure.

Then Hagrid arrived, greeting them with still happy filled teary eyes. He admitted he should be upset about the escape of Black, but asked if they knew what good thing had happened? They feigned they didn't know,

"Can't imagine how well that worked out," Sirius snickered.

and Hagrid beamed as he explained Buckbeak had gotten free! Hermione praised how good that was, while trying to subtly give Ron a shove for starting to laugh.

"That could have still been appropriate," Remus chose to laugh now, "happy laughter for his friend."

Hagrid didn't seem to notice as he explained he must not have tied him up right, though he had been worried Lupin had gotten to him last night.

"Wasn't actually a problem," Harry gave a slight laugh, worried that Remus' good mood had vanished the moment his name came back up.

Thankfully Lupin had said he hadn't eaten anything.

Harry was very torn, he wanted to ask how Remus would even know such a thing, was it just like a feeling he would get? Vague memories that wouldn't make sense, and he had to piece them together? He held that in though, the same fears as everyone else bubbling up because they really wanted to know what had happened to Remus.

Harry asked in surprise what that could mean, and Hagrid was shocked that they hadn't heard, since Snape had told the Slytherins this morning and the whole school must know by now.

"Snape told the Slytherins what?" Sirius began dangerously, his eyes narrowing to near slits as Remus tried to keep going, ignoring his own mounting sense of doom at how this was starting.

Lupin's a werewolf.

"HE DID NOT!" James roared, his hands shaking so bad he was in danger of dropping his child, who began crying at the outburst. James tried to force himself to calm down, rocking his baby gently but the shaking wouldn't stop. He'd been so angry at hearing all of this for so long now, he should have had plenty of practice, but hearing what Snape had just done to one of his friends was not going to be an easy thing to move past.

"I am going to kill him." Sirius vowed right then, his eyes going dangerously dark and his hand already wrapped around his wand. "He couldn't have my soul sucked away so he turns on you! What's he trying to do, get you arrested next!"

Remus tried to pacify them, as Lily and Harry weren't looking much better, "honestly I'm considering myself lucky Hagrid's not yet saying I've been executed. I'll take this over-"

"Snape had better have been fired for that, or so help me I'll wring Dumbledore's and Snape's neck!" Lily cut him off with pure venom. "That was private information that in no way affected anyone at the school, he should not be able to get away with that!"

"It's probably Dumbledore who stopped the Committee for the Control of Dangerous creatures coming after me the moment Fudge made it to the Ministry," Remus argued back, shrinking into the couch at the looks he was getting. He kept going though, he'd always been the persistent one, "if that's all Snape could get away with doing to me, then I'll still be thankful."

"That's it, you're going on the chopping block next," Sirius snapped, unable to comprehend how Remus was still defending them. He'd been targeted as much as Sirius this year and still he was straining to keep peace.

Remus didn't look happy about it though, he was wavering terribly as he struggled to keep going.

He was still torn apart inside at what Dumbledore seemed to have done to Sirius in leaving him in Azkaban, how it must have been his Headmaster who had convinced Remus Sirius had done all of those things in the first place, but still it had also been Dumbledore who'd allowed him his job this year, who was clearly still protecting him from the worst of what could happen. Dumbledore had tried to fix his mistake and had helped Sirius in the best way he knew how by giving Harry and Hermione the means to slip Sirius out, shouldn't that give him some redeem ability? Despite how fearsome everyone still looked, Remus kept going while the silence lasted.

Then Hagrid explained he was packing now of course.

"Packing?" Harry repeated, looking just as shocked as anyone at hearing the news. "Why, you aren't really leaving because of that!"

"He better not be," Sirius snapped when Remus failed to answer.

Truth was that yeah, Remus could see it. He'd come closer in that night to attacking three students, one of them being Harry, than he ever had in his life. It had been his fault the rat had gotten away because he hadn't had the sense to stay in the Shrieking Shack, the kids were convinced enough they could have come up with any other solution and dealt with this in the morning, anything other than what he actually did! Still being smothered with guilt, Remus kept going for now, loudly, as he knew James and Lily were fixing to start telling him off like Sirius was going to. He wanted to hear the full thing, find out if he had quit, or was being fired, or something much worse could still be happening that Hagrid didn't know about.

Harry repeated that back and demanded to know why? Hagrid was surprised at Harry's shock, saying he was leaving of course,

"Hagrid just lost some points with me," James muttered, thinking that Hagrid should be at least a little more upset, but then he reflected that may be too harsh on him. Hagrid had only gotten the story second hand, probably didn't know all the details of how and why Remus was out on the grounds like that. It still irked him anyone would expect Remus to leave because of this.

that he'd resigned and wouldn't risk it happening again. Harry jumped to his feet despite Hermione and Ron protesting that if he'd already done the act, but Harry insisted he still wanted to go talk to him and he'd meet them later.

Remus sighed, he'd gotten the feeling Harry would come and see him, it didn't make him feel any better though. He owed Harry a world of explanations, even with everything come clear about Sirius it still didn't really explain where in the name of Merlin he'd been these past thirteen years. Maybe now that he wasn't technically Harry's professor anymore, but an old friend of his father's, he could explain just a little bit more.

Harry charged up to the office and found the door cracked open. When he poked his head inside he found everything packed away, but Lupin watching the door expectantly. He smiled as Harry came in, saying that he'd known Harry was coming while gesturing towards the Marauders Map.

"That joke never got old," Sirius muttered, as they'd done that to each other all the time, though with more spirited fun of hiding behind a doorway and trying to freak out the others. It only served as yet another painful reminder though, that the rat had fallen for that trick the most and often retaliated by trying to shoot a curse at them no matter how many times they repeated it and it had always been funny. Great, now he couldn't even think on his map without getting a cold and murderous chill.

Clearly seeing something was bothering Sirius, Harry quickly asked, "I've just thought of something. If Remus was watching us all night, how come he wouldn't have seen me and Hermione twice on that?"**

Remus did a double take at Harry, nodding and saying, "now that's a fair question, but I think it was the timing of it all. I would have turned on the map at about the time I was done with my own exams, to watch you lot head down to Hagrid's. We know Hagrid's Hut itself can't actually be seen on the map, so the doppelgangers wouldn't have been seen any more than the original trio. When you guys left, the second Harry and Hermione would have been following along in the edge of the Forest of their own progress, perhaps still just out of sight of the maps range. By the time Sirius collided with Ron and dragged him and," he grimaced for a moment but still managed to get out the name without biting his tongue off, "Scabbers underground, I would have been sprinting out the door and probably not paying too much attention to anything anymore." He looked around like he was expecting someone to argue with him, but when no one did he concluded. "The only instance where I possibly would have seen them both was when Harry and Hermione are first in the closet after they've time-turned back, and the trio were on their way down to Hagrid's. The only way I can explain this is that I hadn't opened the map to see this yet."

"Makes as much sense as anything that happened that night," James snorted.

Harry belayed that and repeated what Hagrid had told him, and Lupin agreed it was true.

"Remus!" Lily snapped. "You're being ridiculous!"

"How so?" He shot back, trying for a pleasant tone. "How are you not trying to strangle me and agree with me, I nearly bit Harry. I could have killed those kids because of my oversight, and what if it happens again? I won't let some accident hurt anybody, and Sirius won't be around next time."

"But that was-" James tried to add, but Remus was being adamant.

"A one time event, but what if it happened again? I'm actually happy I'm not taking the risk."

The others were at their wits end with him, but what could they do? They couldn't force him to keep the job, it was just maddening that something like this had been taken away from him.

Remus was a good teacher, by far the best one Harry had yet in that subject, but more than that it would have just been nice for him to be on hand more for whatever mayhem Harry was clearly going to get into. It was hard enough for him to keep down a job, especially one as good as this.

James and Sirius still blamed the rat for this happening, linking Remus' fall from his certainty in the job to his interference, yet another thing he'd ruined in their life.

Lily couldn't help but blame Severus, he'd gone and told everyone about this for a petty justice he thought he deserved. The students would tell their parents and Remus would be terrified of what the public would think of him, and he'd lose every last drop of faith he should have in himself. That potion was good for him, but she couldn't begin to imagine how expensive it was, plus Remus wasn't that good at potions himself. So this all meant he was probably going to go back to a relatively closed off, and pained life. Remus had been very right in saying Sirius wouldn't be around to help, with any luck he'd left the country and wouldn't be coming back until his name was cleared.

Harry was the most monstrously disappointed, still grumbling, "but you're the best Defense teacher I ever have." He still meant it with the utmost sincerity, he didn't need his memories to reinforce that assured feeling. It would have been even better now that he knew of Remus' connection to his father, and with Sirius gone out of the country with any luck, he would have liked someone closer by, but he wasn't getting anything from that. With the gentlest of prodding he tried to deduce that he never got that close to Remus. He didn't even think he'd remained in his life all that much, which just wasn't adding up with what he felt now. It left him confused and hurt and still he couldn't help but think that he never got an answer for this.

Remus though was thinking on something else, that maybe if he was lucky he had quit for a totally different reason than his lycanthropy. After all if his assumption was right and Dumbledore had convinced him of Sirius' actions, then everything had come out properly, well that meant that Remus would have turned on Dumbledore. If he was lucky, he may well have stood up to the headmaster and said something about it, maybe quit in some shot of spite for what he'd been convinced of. That may have been giving himself too much credit though, he'd proved time and again he'd back Dumbledore's play no matter what. He didn't really want to keep bringing the idea up, but he wanted so badly for it to be true he offered that to the others. Sirius actually smiled, he rather liked that idea of Remus telling off the headmaster. When no one else put up an argument for it, Remus decided to keep going.

Harry demanded to know why, if the Ministry thought Lupin had been helping Sirius? Lupin went behind Harry and shut the door before answering,

"Always a good idea," James sighed, still not happy, but willing to hear Remus out. "Even if the map showed no one else there, I wouldn't put it past half the paintings in that school to go chatting."

that no, Dumbledore had convinced Fudge otherwise.

That at least gave them all a shot of relief. Whatever wrongdoings Dumbledore had done to Sirius, at least he'd made up for them in that action of protecting Remus. He had been at Hogwarts on Dumbledore's orders, so he'd better have stood up for him. Sirius knew he would have wound up in Azkaban all over again if he heard otherwise.

Then he explained that act had just been too much for Severus, having that happen on top of his Order of Merlin taken away from him,

"Clearly not hard enough, as he's still breathing," James snarled.

so he'd told everyone about his werewolf status that morning.

Lily began swearing colorfully under her breath all over again, unable to believe he'd done something so horrid and cruel. Snape had better have been fired for that as well, it just wasn't right he could get away with doing that to Remus!

Harry was still confused why he was leaving just because of that! Lupin gave him an odd smile as he explained that within the hour letters would be arriving from parents,

Remus couldn't help but notice how he hadn't actually answered Harry's question, maybe giving him a little more hope for his own idea, but it still wasn't enough. It would never be enough for what he owed Sirius for believing that lie, but if leaving this job and with any luck actually helping Sirius now, perhaps spending his now free time looking for the rat while Sirius was safe, then he'd take the trade any day.

that they wouldn't want a werewolf teaching their children.

"They can bite me," Sirius snapped! Remus had gone to school with most of those people, Dumbledore should have pointed out to all of them that Remus wasn't dangerous, stuck by his Professor as much as he'd surely done for Snape when he'd been hired fresh as a Death Eater. He really wished Harry had sat in on that conversation, because if Dumbledore hadn't done everything in the world to convince Remus to stay then he was going to have a shit fit all over again.

After last night, he agreed with them, he could never let those circumstances come about ever again. Harry still rebutted that Lupin was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher they ever had, and pleaded with him not to leave.

"Or ever will have," Harry still agreed.

"Maybe it won't be permanent," Lily offered hopefully. "Maybe once that rat is caught, and Sirius' name is cleared, maybe Remus will get it through his thick head he's needed at that school."

Everyone else wanted to look like they believed that, but the fact that Harry didn't add anything but instead just gave a slight frown wasn't encouraging.

Lupin just shook his head as he finished packing, and while Harry stood there trying to come up with something else to prove his point, Lupin changed the subject by saying how proud he was of how much Harry had accomplished.

They all sighed, grateful and at least agreeing that if Remus had to leave at least he'd left with something good behind him.

Then he asked about Harry's patronus, but Harry first asked how he'd even known? Lupin pointed out how else had all of those dementors gone away? Harry explained what had happened, and Lupin agreed that's why they'd called James Prongs.

Harry couldn't resist the bright smile that crept over his face all over again, words didn't describe how happy he was his patronus had been his own father, that he'd finally gotten to see the magnificent animal that had spent countless nights protecting his brother from himself. He still couldn't help but wonder though, if he was an animagus, he'd clearly be a stag as well, but what would he look like? So similar to his father that they'd hardly be able to be told apart even then?

Then Lupin handed Harry back his Invisibility Cloak, saying he'd found it in the Shrieking Shack.

"I thought you pocketed that in the Shack?" Lily frowned.

"Don't look at me," Remus frowned, as that had been the last time he'd heard it mentioned as well.

"Maybe I found it on the grounds and put it in there," Sirius shrugged, that being unlikely as he didn't really think he could spot that from the air on Buckbeak, but he also liked the idea that he wouldn't have just up and left without saying goodbye to Remus. Maybe he had thought back to Remus, and found him after he transformed and dragged him back to the Shack, and found the cloak along the way. Maybe he'd wanted to make sure Remus woke up with a friend at the end of his bed one last time before he had to leave for how long. It didn't sit right with him if he really hadn't considered Remus at all after his own freedom was offered.***

Then he also added on that he felt Harry should be given the Marauders Map back, saying that he was sure he Ron and Hermione could find something to do with it.

"Hopefully the good kind," James added on happily, thinking it was high time his son use that for its intended purpose.

Lily didn't even disagree anymore, she'd happily take hearing her son pull some goofy prank rather than constantly worrying about his life at this point.

Harry took the map back with a smile, asking about how those manufacturers would have found it funny if he'd been led out of the castle. Lupin agreed James would have been very heartbroken if his own son had never learned any of the secret passages of the school.

"Well he's got you there," Sirius agreed with a real laugh.

"I can't deny I'm disappointed it took you three years, and you didn't even find the first on your own," James sighed, wagging his finger in mock scolding at his son, causing him to laugh all the harder.

Then there was a knock on the door, and only after Harry stuffed his cloak and map out of sight did Remus call for them to come in. It was Dumbledore, telling Remus there was a carriage waiting for him. Lupin thanked him, picked up his suitcase and old grindylow tank,

"So that's actually your tank then," Lily muttered. "Why do you even have that?"

"For fun," Remus rolled his eyes at her. He was known to randomly catch wild animals and study them before releasing them again, he actually had a niffler at his house right now he was most likely keeping in that tank, though thankfully as they lived off of dirt and he'd left plenty in there he wasn't worried about it going hungry.

and said his goodbyes to Harry and the headmaster. He told Dumbledore he didn't need to be seen down,

Though still disappointed and argumentative on the subject that Remus should keep his butt right where he was, the others noticed for the first time Remus was acting a little odd around Dumbledore as well. Maybe Remus' idea wasn't all that crazy.

and he gave a final smile at Harry before the two shook hands and he shuffled out the door. Harry got the feeling Lupin was trying to make a quick getaway.

Harry couldn't help but frown, he had a bad feeling he wasn't going to be seeing Professor Lupin for some time, and it wasn't making him feel any better.

Harry sat down in the empty chair as he watched the door, and it took him a moment to realize Dumbledore was still there. He asked what Harry was so upset about, that he should be proud of what he did last night. Harry sighed that he hadn't made any difference, that Pettigrew had still got away.

"That's not your fault at all," the four of them all tried to say at the same time, making Harry try to shy away at so many people half yelling at him at once.

Remus, James, and Lily gave a quick pause when they realized they'd startled him, but Sirius kept going, "Harry you must realize that wasn't your fault. What were you supposed to do?"

"I even went back in time and couldn't do anything about it," Harry shot back, still frowning deeply, wishing he could have taken Hermione's Time Turner and still tried something!

"What am I, chopped liver?" He demanded right back. It still stung, that Harry had to rescue him at all when it should have been the other way around. Yes he was eternally grateful, but he should be the one protecting Harry, not causing even more problems with his life! Still he kept up his point, "you did exactly what you were expected to do, help out my sorry arse. Now come on pup, I'll get upset all over again if you're really going to be stubborn on this."

Harry couldn't help a light laugh then, surprised that he actually did feel better. If Sirius didn't blame him, the one person who'd been most affected by the rats getting away, then maybe it really wasn't his fault.

Remus and Lily smiled, pleased Sirius had gotten through to him, but James couldn't help that feeling again. Something he'd never felt before wanting to make an appearance, like he should have been the one to comfort Harry about that. Why would it bother him now though, Sirius was doing just fine.

Dumbledore was shocked, repeating what Harry had said, but instantly corrected Harry had made a huge difference! He'd found the truth, and saved an innocent man from a terrible fate. Terrible. That word niggled at Harry, and all at once he remembered 'Greater and more terrible than ever before' and he realized those were the words of Professor Trelawney's prediction.

"Oh wow," Remus muttered.

"Yeah, I forgot all about that," Sirius said with some real annoyance. She really couldn't have thrown a name into that stupid prophecy. Some other clue that would have made his life a lot easier to cope with! Even if he had been the one to convince the others this Professor was a real Seer, he now probably disliked her the most of all.

Harry began to tell his headmaster that his Divination teacher began acting strange yesterday, and Dumbledore asked if he meant stranger than normal?

Harry couldn't help a little snort, at least the Headmaster admitted it.

Harry agreed that she'd said something about Voldemort coming back because of a servant, that he'd return even more powerful.

Harry gave a terrible shiver at that remembrance, and he wasn't the only one. Now that Sirius wasn't having his life ruined by that, he considered all of the words all over again and felt bile curling his stomach as he realized how true that felt. It wasn't real though, right? Voldemort wasn't really going to come back, all because of that rat? At least now he didn't really think it was his fault, but he got the feeling no one had really convinced him of that in his own time.

The others weren't feeling much better. They recognized Trelawney had clearly made a real prediction, but maybe they were lucky and it wasn't being literal. Maybe he wouldn't really 'come back' but...and they couldn't really think of any other way that could mean. Well, hopefully it still wouldn't have to deal with Harry, right? That could take years to happen, and Harry was safe here with them now, so they really didn't want to linger on that long.

Then she hadn't remembered what she'd even said, and Harry asked if that had been a real prediction? Dumbledore agreed that made her account up to two.

Harry felt a little stirring in him, wondering why that felt significant. He remembered back to feeling he would be grateful he kept Trelawney's class, and he wondered if it had been because of this prediction about the rat and Voldemort, but he didn't really think so. Was it because of this other prediction then? Why would he care about that?

Harry was shocked at how calm Dumbledore was about this.

"With any luck, because he knows Voldemort coming back isn't ever going to be a problem," James muttered.

Pointing out that he'd stopped Sirius and Lupin from killing Pettigrew, so if Voldemort did come back it would be his fault!

"Oh Harry," James quickly said this time, frowning slightly at him. "You can't really believe that one? You showed him mercy, that's a lot more kind than he deserved. They were still his actions though, his decisions, not one thing would be linked back to you."

"I'm still grateful you did as well," Sirius quickly added while Remus nodded vigorously. "If we had murdered him, then who knows, maybe I never would get my name cleared, because that rat couldn't admit to anything he did. I may not have been able to prove that was his body, but I'd done something to it to make it look like him. No, we needed him alive."

Harry had to chew on that for a moment before he nodded, finally admitting that while he would always feel guilty Peter got away, Sirius had been kept alive and that was the important part. He nodded his agreement and while Sirius and Remus looked happy enough to move on James couldn't help a lingering frown, a tickle of annoyance that yet again Sirius had gotten through to Harry while he hadn't.

Dumbledore disagreed at once, explaining to Harry that he did the right thing in sparing Pettigrew's life, because he now owed his life to Harry.

'Which is a hell of a lot more than he deserves' James still couldn't help but snarl, wishing they could change the subject again already as the longer this dragged on the more agitated he got.

Voldemort's most loyal servant was now also in Harry's debt.

"Something which will bite both of them in the arse," Remus said pleasantly, hoping Harry would stay well away from that, but enjoying the irony for as long as he could.

It was something that had happened the moment Harry stepped up, creating a bond between the two of them. Harry protested he didn't want a bond with Pettigrew, he was the person who'd got his parents killed! Dumbledore though said that this was magic at its roots, unintentionally or not, something that could not be undone.

"Like when I saved you," Lily added on. "That wasn't a spell, it was an action that created magic, not something you can or can't do on purpose."

Harry was still frowning, hating to think he had any connection to that rat for what he did, but he leaned a little closer into his mother anyways and let it go for now.

Dumbledore finished with the idea that he had a feeling Harry would be grateful for this someday.

Harry considered that for a moment, and realized that Dumbledore may have been speaking the truth. He had no idea why, it was a very faint feeling, but something in him was agreeing with Dumbledore, and he hoped it was worth it.

Harry couldn't picture it, and Dumbledore seemed to sense this as he also said that he'd known James quite well his whole life, and he knew James would have done the same for Pettigrew.

James sighed and looked away from everyone. He still didn't know what he'd do when the time came and they could leave this place, when he knew for a fact Sirius and Remus might still go and act on that now before the rat even saw it coming. Would James join them, would he try to stop them, or would he stand by and do nothing which would be just as bad as either option. He hated himself right then, for not wanting Peter dead for what he did to them, but he still couldn't bring himself to want his death either. And yet when he looked him in the face again, would that still be true? Wormtail, one of his brothers. Maybe Dumbledore was right, but it didn't make him happy either.

Harry admitted that he'd thought he'd seen his dad last night, he'd thought it had been James who had sent that patronus saving Harry's life. Dumbledore agreed it was an easy swap, and though Harry may grow tired of hearing it, he did look remarkably like James. Expect for the eyes of course, those were his mother's eyes.

"Nope, that never gets old," Harry smiled brightly, trying to catch his dad's eye as they were all well aware of the battle warring in him right now, none of them feeling they had a right to make the decision for him, he had to come to grips with that on his own just like before. Harry did want though to keep his mind on something more pleasant until then, so he kept going even though his dad wouldn't really look at him. "I never get tired of hearing that, makes me happy every single time."

James heard that alright, and gave him a bright eyed look right back.

Harry still called himself stupid for thinking it, he knew his dad was dead.

Remus still couldn't read that without a hitch in his voice, the news never getting easier to hear, the act that had caused it now more fresh and disturbing than ever before, but James was still distractedly smiling at his son and so Remus kept going past that.

Dumbledore gently told that he didn't really believe the dead left the living. Harry showed the best quality of his parents every day, which helped them to live on. His father had come alive again last night through his son, Prongs rode again.

James was so giddy he was nearly bouncing, because that's exactly what he'd wanted. Even if it had only been in spirit, he had been there for his son when he'd been needed most. Sirius could give all the advice he wanted, at least James had that! His brain gave a quick little pause, realizing what he'd just thought and for the first time understanding what might have been bothering him, but then he got distracted by Sirius blurting out, "ah, what? How did he know about Prongs?"

Remus was frowning down at that, wondering if perhaps he'd finally told Dumbledore?

It took a moment for Harry to catch up and realize what Dumbledore had said, and then Dumbledore explained that Sirius had told him everything last night, including the animagi part.

"Oh," Sirius shrugged. "Guess I really did tell him everything."

"Well I suppose that's a good thing at least," Lily sighed, this also meant that Dumbledore would also know about the rat's animagus as well, he'd be much easier to find with Dumbledore and Remus looking for both personas of the traitor.

Dumbledore gave a small chuckle as he congratulated his past students for the feat, and then he gently reminded Harry that he'd found his father inside of himself when he'd needed him most.

Harry and James were beaming at each other, more happy then they'd ever been that they at least had this to identify with to each other, something that couldn't just be put down to a genetic look or old possessions. Harry truly emulated his father right then and forever with that one simple spell.

Then Dumbledore finally left, with Harry more lost than ever.

Nobody at Hogwarts really knew what had happened the night of Black's escape except for the trio and Dumbledore.

"That seems to be a running theme for you," Remus rolled his eyes, "you getting caught up in the mess, and at the end of the year everyone else trying to catch up."

The closer school came to an end, the more wild the stories became of what really had happened, but none of them ever came close to the truth.

"I'd like to think that if anyone did guess that well, they'd put Trelawney out of a job," Lily laughed.

Malfoy was furious about Buckbeak.

"Oh boy," Sirius groaned, his eyes narrowing with distaste. Now that he realized his own life had been saved because of that hippogriff, he felt insanely protective of the beast, which made Malfoy's actions this year all the more loathsome to him.

He was convinced that Hagrid had found a way of smuggling the hippogriff to safety, and seemed outraged that he had been outwitted by a gamekeeper.

"Ha," Remus snapped, happy that Malfoy hadn't actually been able to get away with anything this year.

Percy was as talkative as anyone about Sirius,

"Oh great," James groaned in disgust, he already didn't like this one, he really didn't want to hear anymore failing statements about his brother now that he knew the absolute truth.

speaking of the political side and how when he entered the ministry he'd come up with some new proposals for the Magical Law Enforcement, mostly going over this to the only person who listened to him, Penelope.

Lily on the other hand couldn't help but be interested. While she would curse anyone who tried to use those on Sirius, she could think of plenty of other people those could do some good towards.

Percy was clearly a smart and ambitious boy, she did want to hear these things and see how they could be put to use.

Though the weather was perfect, though the atmosphere was so cheerful, though he knew they had achieved the near impossible in helping Sirius to freedom, Harry had never approached the end of a school year in worse spirits.

All four of them couldn't help but be in absolute agreement with him. Between Remus leaving, Sirius still being on the run, and the rats escape plus the horrid rise and fall of hope of wanting more than anything for James to have been alive, this was by far the worst year for them to have lived through.

He wasn't the only student upset at their Defense teacher leaving, having overheard Seamus glumly wonder what they could be getting next year, while Dean gave a hopeful offer of a vampire.

"I'd prefer the werewolf," Sirius grumbled with distaste.

It wasn't just Lupin though, Harry also couldn't keep his mind off of that prediction, and kept wondering if Pettigrew had caught up to Voldemort yet.

Remus couldn't get that out completely coherent. He may agree with his friends, the rats actions had nothing to do with Harry's decision, he'd done the right thing, but it didn't erase the black hatred he possessed whenever the name was mentioned, whenever he realized all over again what he'd become and what he was going to do to James, Lily and Sirius.

The thing that was lowering Harry's spirits most of all though, was the prospect of returning to the Dursleys.

"Oh," Lily moaned, placing her face in her hands and nearly bursting into tears all over again at that. In the following events that had led her to worry about Sirius' life, she'd almost forgotten about that horrid reminder but now it was back full force. It just wasn't fair that this had been ripped away from Harry and Sirius, that he was forced back with those horrid excuse for people. His return would be made all the bitter because of what that rat had done, his hand being the one to wrench all of that away.

For barely ten minutes, Harry had been offered something more, a real home with Sirius, his dad's best friend, it would have been the closest thing he would ever get to having his own father.

Sirius couldn't help but wriggle with displeasure. Of course he wanted that to, to be that missing piece of James for Harry, but it hurt terribly that he'd have to play the role at all. James should be there for his son, to be the scolding parent and happy go lucky father all in one, while Sirius could be the goofy Uncle and help him get away with everything.

James couldn't help in that moment leaning away from Sirius slightly. Of course he still wanted Harry away from the Dursleys, of course he wanted Harry to have a proper home life, but it still didn't erase his rising fear that he was only just beginning to realize he had.

While it was supposed to be a good thing he hadn't heard a word from Sirius, as this meant he was going underground, it still didn't erase how miserable he was that what he wanted most of all was impossible.

"Not impossible," Lily said at once, watching all of them take several steps back in their mood with displeasure. "It just might take a little more time." What they wouldn't give for Harry to even have gone on the run with Sirius than go back to Privet Drive, after the cupboard and starvation and whatever else Harry wouldn't speak about, anything Sirius could provide would be better than that!

Their exam results came back, and they'd passed everything. Harry was shocked he'd actually gotten through on Potions, and couldn't help but wonder if Dumbledore had done something to stop Snape failing him.

"I didn't even know he could do that," Harry admitted, "it was just a guess."

"Well, I'm not really sure, but I wouldn't be surprised either," Remus couldn't help with some blistering hatred still lingering as it was made clear Snape still had his job.

Snape's behavior toward Harry over the past week had become quite alarming.

Sirius couldn't help a low whine of fear, he'd been afraid of this but now his earlier joke had come back and it wasn't nearly as satisfying as he'd thought. He'd been so sure that he and Remus could step in and Harry would tell them whenever Snape did something to horrible and the two of them could tell Snape to shove it for Harry! Now neither of them were around, and Harry was the only one left to take the fall for all of Snape's built up hatred, and it just wasn't just!

Harry wouldn't have thought it possible that Snape's dislike for him could increase, but it certainly had. A muscle twitched unpleasantly at the corner of Snape's thin mouth every time he looked at Harry, and he was constantly flexing his fingers, as though itching to place them around Harry's throat.

Lily's throat vibrated she made such a scathing noise, she wanted to jack slap him all the way to the Whomping Willow and let that tree finish off the rest of him she was so sick of him. She'd thought he'd hit his low in calling her that word back in fifth year, and she just kept being proven how wrong she was but the hurt had stopped chapters ago, now she was left with simmering hatred that was going to boil over on him the second she could.

He'd concern himself with that next year though, as for now he heard about Percy getting top grades in all of his N.E.W.T.s, and Fred and George getting a couple of O.W.L.s each,

"How would they know that?" Remus chuckled in surprise, "they wouldn't get the results until summer."

"I, have no idea," Harry said, blinking in shock as well. "I suppose with their dad being in the Ministry, maybe they got a heads up that they at least passed a few, and just guessed the rest. I just remember them talking about it is all."

"Well good for them anyways," Lily sighed, finding at least one thing to smile about again.

and because of the Gryffindor win with the Cup the end of term feast was done with lion pride because they'd won the House Championship as well. Even Harry managed to put all of his worries aside as he laughed happily at everything that night.

All five of them gave great sighs, wishing the story would just end there, wanting more than anything to move to the part already where the most eventful part of Harry's next year of school would be him reading in the paper about the capture of the rat and Sirius arriving on the next holiday break. The fact that Remus kept going just wasn't giving them any pleasure, and they didn't see how it could.

Hermione offered up some more news, that she'd quit Muggle Studies.

"What, are you telling me she actually got tired of being tired?" Sirius rolled his eyes.

Ron was shocked, saying how she'd only just told them she'd made a three hundred percent score on her final.

"And she still got a perfect score!" James balked.

Hermione shrugged that off, saying that now she'd dropped that class she had a normal schedule, and she'd turned her Time-Turner back in. She couldn't handle another year like this one.

"But, but she didn't even use it for anything fun," Remus couldn't help but whine. "She had that thing for a whole year and only used it on homework."

"Well I'm happy to hear that," Lily sighed, "that poor thing needs more of a break, if she went another year like that I'd be even more worried for her."

They were boarding the train now, and Harry couldn't find the enthusiasm to jump in to discuss this. Ron noticed first and told his best mate to cheer up, he'd be sure to call Harry over this summer as he knew how to use a fellytone now.

That at least gave them a little chuckle again, yes Ron clearly knew exactly what he was doing.

Hermione corrected him on the proper name, and told him he'd do some good from Muggle Studies.

"I'm sure he gets enough of a lesson at home," Harry corrected, fondly remembering most conversations with Mr. Weasley started or ended with something to do with Muggles.

Ron ignored her and kept going, talking about how Harry would have to come over to his place, as it was the Quidditch World Cup this summer!

"It's what!" All four boys perked up like the sun anew. Lily couldn't help a girlish giggle at that, she would hear about twenty more Quidditch matches then the disaster of a year she'd just lived through.

"Oh please Harry, I'm begging, tell me you go," James moaned, clasping his hands together as if in actual prayer.

"I sure hope so," Harry nodded back eagerly, he had a very good feeling about this!

"With any luck Ron wouldn't have mentioned it without having some way to listen in as well," Remus pacified, his own eyes lighting up with hope at the possibility.

Ron also mentioned that his Dad could normally get tickets from work.

"That's even better," Sirius practically squealed. "Can you imagine hearing about an international game through Harry! He'll get to see the professionals at work, oh glory I think I'm going faint-" and he was actually jittering around so much he may not have been joking.

"Relax Padfoot," Remus had to restrain himself from laughing to hard. "Don't go wetting yourself before it even starts."

Harry was laughing too hard to respond, the longer he thought about it the more sure he had been right, or at least he really hoped so and this was one good thing to be looking forward to.

This idea actually managed to cheer Harry up, agreeing he was sure the Dursleys wouldn't mind seeing him leaving after what he did to Aunt Marge.

"Thank you for that lovely reminder," Lily forced a laugh this time, her bad mood still lingering enough Harry had to go back at all, that this would be the first time he'd be face to face with them since Harry had left that place. She still couldn't help but ask "why couldn't you just stay at the Leaky Cauldron again until Ron's parents would let you come around?"

"I asked Dumbledore," Harry groaned, "and he said Tom wouldn't allow it, as I'm still underage and would need consent again, apparently the Minister gave it the first time but wouldn't again."

They had to suck in air very carefully to prevent themselves from screaming about that all over again, wishing Dumbledore and the Minister would stop making decisions for Harry already.

Couldn't he at least go stay with Remus! It would be tricky, but surely they could have worked out something other than this!

Feeling much better, Harry now happily joined them in a game of Exploding Snap, right up until the lunch cart came around and they all got some treats of everything except chocolate.

"Can't even blame you," Remus couldn't help a light snicker, at least happy he had another line or two before he had to think on the end of the train again.

It was late in the afternoon before the thing that made him truly happy turned up...

"Oh yeah," James asked, trying to perk himself back up.

Hermione noticed it first, saying there was something out the window.

Well that was an odd way to start, but Harry had said it was something happy, so none of them could even get worked up about it, instead Remus kept going with heavy interest.

Harry pulled the window open and found it was a very tiny gray owl, twisting this way and that from the stream of the train, but clearly making its way to Harry's window, while holding a too large letter.

"Aw," Lily couldn't help but coo with a smile, wondering who on earth that could be from, but knowing mail always made her son happier.

Harry reached out and caught it, finding it felt like a fluffy Snitch in his hand.

"Jeez, that thing is tiny if it'll fit in your palm," Remus raised a brow in surprise.

He brought it inside and released it, where it began zooming happily above the ceiling, clearly proud of itself as it dropped the letter to Harry's lap. Hedwig watched with a disapproving look, and Crookshanks yellow eyes were following its progress as well.

"Uh oh," they all couldn't help but say a little indulgently, no one able to pick a bad feeling towards the ginger cat after what he'd done for Sirius this year.

Ron noticed this and snatched the owl safely out of harm's way.

Sirius couldn't help but laugh, wondering why the little owl hadn't swooped back out when it was done with its task, but finding Ron's actions nice enough.

Harry unfolded the letter, and happily exclaimed it was from Sirius!

"What?" They yelped in shock.

"Sirius, why would you be sending me mail," Harry frowned in concern. "Wouldn't someone be able to trace that back to you?"

"Oh no," Sirius brushed that off, that hadn't been why he was surprised. "It's plenty easy to make yourself untraceable, paranoid old gits do it all the time when they think the Ministry's out to get them, which they're probably right about," he finished absently. "I can send mail and not have the owl unable to trace it back to me with a spell or two, no I'm just surprised I'd send it so early."

"I'd have thought you'd wait at least a month, you know put some believability into the idea that you aren't in contact with Harry, rather than on the train when anyone could have seen that," Remus explained their confusion.

"Oh," Harry shrugged, that hadn't been what was bothering him at all, he always rode with just Ron and Hermione.

Harry began reading out loud, that Sirius' note started with a hope Harry got this before he reached his own home, he wasn't sure how used to his aunt and uncle were to owl post.

Sirius muttered something under his breath that made James and Remus give an almost cruel laugh, and though Harry and Lily may not have been opposed to whatever he'd just suggested, neither really wanted to ask for details either.

Then he said that he and Buckbeak were safe in hiding, but he wasn't going to say where in case the owl was intercepted.

"There's that Marauder brain I've missed hearing about," Remus said fondly, he just knew Sirius had to have some sense still about him.

He wasn't too confident of the owl he'd picked, but it had seemed up for the job.

"Where would you have gotten him anyways," Harry couldn't help but ask, when he realized Sirius wouldn't have explained that.

"Probably found him in the wild," Sirius shrugged. "It's a lot more rare to find intelligent owls that aren't wizard bred up for the job, but it's not impossible either."

He was sure the dementors were still out looking for him, but they weren't going to find a trace of him where he was. He planned on letting some Muggles get a sight of him sometime soon,

"Sirius," Lily began with worry, but hoping he had a good idea of why Sirius would do this, James waved her down so Remus could keep going.

very far away from Harry so that some of his security would get let down.

"Oh," Lily still pouted, but then acknowledged, "yes, well I guess that's alright. Just please at least tell me you let them spot you from a long ways off, even Muggles could be dangerous if they catch sight of you."

"Worry wart," Sirius returned fondly, loving he could still pick on her at all for this and receiving the glare she gave him with pride.

He did add on that he was sorry he hadn't a chance to mention it before, but it was him who'd sent that Firebolt-

"What a shocker," James rolled his eyes with a laugh.

"Never saw that coming," Remus snickered.

Hermione interrupted to say she'd known it all along.

"And still with the 'I told you so's from her," Lily couldn't help but chuckle, still finding the girls faults more human than alienating. "Hasn't she learned anything this year?"

"Don't take so many classes," Sirius shrugged.

Ron agreed, but pointed out that it hadn't been jinxed either. Then he yelped in pain as the little owl he was still holding nipped him too hard on the finger in what it clearly thought was being kind.

"Yes, owls tend to do that a lot," James smirked, his own owl Click having a knack for doing that whenever he delivered a letter.

Back in Sirius' letter, he explained that he'd done it by having Crookshanks hand in the order for him, but the money for the broom had been taken out of his own vault.

"See, it wasn't difficult at all," Sirius laughed happily, joyfully imagining the confusion on those shopkeepers face at the cat delivering such odd instructions, but happy it had worked out for the best for his pup!

He hoped Harry would consider it worth the other thirteen years of presents he'd missed.

"It most certainly is," Harry agreed cheerfully, wishing he had it now, to share with his whole family and take another spin on it, wondering why that would cause another bump in his throat.

He also gave an apology for having frightened Harry that night when he'd been outside of his uncle's house.

'Wish you'd gotten around to asking him why he left' Remus couldn't help but think, still wanting more than anything for Sirius to go teach them a lesson about how they'd treated their Harry, but he didn't want to ruin the good mood again so soon so he hurried past that.

He'd only wanted to see Harry, but he realized he may have given him a fright.

"Perhaps a bit," Harry smiled lightly, now wishing he'd caught many more glimpses of that Grim, as it was the most important dog in the world to him, and not exactly liking that aching that wouldn't seem to go away, reminding him of how long he should be expecting the wait for the next glimpse.

He also added something else extra in the letter that should make his next year a little better for him.

That gave them all a perk of interest, what on earth could Sirius have wrangled together for Harry on the run?

He promised if Harry needed anything, all Harry would have to do was send him a letter, Hedwig would find him.

"So, was that spell like, specialized or something?" Harry asked, scratching his head as he tried to work out this complex bit of magic he'd never heard of.

"Well, yes," Sirius shrugged, trying to think of the most basic way to explain it. "I could change the spell just slightly so that only your designated letters would find me."

"You know I have been wondering though, if that spell wasn't placed on Harry long ago," Lily couldn't help but point out now that she thought about this.

"Why's that?" James scoffed.

"Well, Harry is the famous Boy Who Lived," Lily shrugged, always hating the reminder, but willing to say it to work this out loud. "That's got to come with say, some kids wanting to write to him, he is almost like a celebrity. I can't believe not one kid would have addressed an owl to him in their youth, but Harry never received a scrap of mail. If Dumbledore could wrangle together to get your key like he did first year, maybe he placed that no messages spell on you as well, and lifted it for Dumbledore himself through the Hogwarts letters, Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, and now Sirius. Of course that wouldn't count for the Improper Use of Magic Office, you can't get out of the trace."

"I, guess," Remus frowned, it did make some sense, even if it did bother them all the more, since any mention of Dumbledore now came with the added irritation of whatever he did to their lives, and really wishing he'd stop interfering already. If he hadn't done this, then Harry would have known his whole life he was a wizard and those Dursleys could have possibly backed off all the sooner. It hadn't happened though, and this was still more speculation than outright answers, so since Harry had no idea of the possibilities himself he just waved Remus on.

He promised he'd send more mail soon, and signed off. Then Harry peeked inside the envelope and found the other thing mentioned, and read it to find it was a note, as Harry's godfather, giving him permission to go into Hogsmeade.

"Yes!" James yelped with joy, catching Sirius by surprise by hugging him and still laughing. Sirius wasn't so unobservant he hadn't noticed James acting a little shifty, but he hadn't understood why which is why he was all the more happy he seemed to have done something good in that moment.

"How would you have even known he couldn't?" Lily couldn't help but ask between laughing. "That hadn't come up in your five minute conversation."

"I am positive I've been sending letters with Remus as well," Sirius shrugged, "maybe he mentioned it."

"I am a little disappointed," Remus couldn't actually say that with a straight face, he was smiling as well but still kept going, "now Harry won't have any reason to use that secret passage anymore."

"I'm sure Harry will still find plenty of reason to get into trouble," Lily giggled.

Harry cheered that Dumbledore would accept that! Then he noticed a PS on the first letter, and found it saying that since Sirius felt guilty Ron no longer had his pet rat, he could keep this owl.

Sirius couldn't help a violent snort of laughter, well he wasn't wrong, but at least this was his way of making up for attacking Ron that night, offering up an owl in return. What an odd way to phrase that though.

Ron went wide eyed in shock as he repeated that.

"Well that backs up that you must have found him in the wild or something," Lily giggled, "I can't see you going through an Owl shop and buying him, or stealing him from someone either."

"Hopefully Molly and Arthur won't say anything," Remus chuckled.

James couldn't help but do a double take, Ron's parents never really having occurred to him before, but suddenly wondering just how much Ron would tell them about this year. If Ron could convince his parents of Sirius' innocence, then that would be yet more people on his brother's side to help him. If he even got Percy to believe it, that would be all the better with his career path, it would do some good for someone in government to know the truth. Ron would have to be careful though, he couldn't go spouting too much before his family really believed the truth or all three kids could do more harm than good.

Ron eyed the owl still held tight in his hands in shock for a few moments before stunning them all by offering it up to Crookshanks.

Harry broke out laughing, thinking that all of their problems could have been solved a lot sooner if Ron had done that in the first place to Scabbers, cracking up even more at the idea of Ron being suspicious of an owl and not even being able to blame him.

Asking the cat what he thought, it was a real owl right? Crookshanks gave a purr.

"There's a sentence you don't get to hear much," Lily gave a half hearted laugh, wanting to find as much amusement as Harry, but the reminder only causing her more hatred again, as well as the boys.

Ron cheered that was good enough for him, he was keeping him!

"So glad someone got their wish this year," James muttered with sincerity.

Harry kept rereading his note from Sirius all the way back onto the platform.

Sirius still beamed with pleasure, happy that he could still do some good for Harry from afar. His pup would never again have to wonder if he had someone to turn to, someone out there to look after him.

He still had it tight in his hand as he went out into the rest of the world, and spotted Uncle Vernon.

Which didn't make his murder suspicions any better upon hearing of those useless excuses of caregivers all over again. He wished he could have arrived on that platform for Harry instead, wanted to be able to walk right up to them and deck them a good one and take Harry far away.

Lily still found it a bleeding miracle they showed up at all to pick up Harry, wondering at what their motives for that could be, knowing that either Harry didn't know or wouldn't tell her anyways.

He was standing a good distance away from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, eyeing them suspiciously, and his worst fears clearly came true as the first thing Mrs. Weasley did was hug Harry.

"Well how dare Harry ever receive a hug," Lily scathed, more venom then she'd expected making an appearance the more often she heard about Mrs. Weasley doing this, but her terrible theory confirmed and wondering if Mrs. Weasley was the only bleeding person to ever give Harry a hug! She wrapped an arm tight around him now to at least comfort herself.

Ron gave Harry a quick wave goodbye as the Weasley's departed, promising he'd call about the World Cup!

James gave a lackluster sigh, never having believed the idea of a Quidditch World Cup could be dampened, but hearing about those stupid Dursleys actually did the trick.

As Harry approached Uncle Vernon and he caught sight of the paper in Harry's hand, he began to threaten that had better not be some new thing he was expected to sign for! Harry told him it was a letter from his godfather, and Vernon began spluttering at once Harry had no such thing.

"I will tear every last one of your limbs off if you ever say that again," Sirius vowed, his eyes narrowing into cold slits while something else gave him a happy spark. So he couldn't be there for Harry in person, but if Harry set this up right, he could be in another more important way.

Harry said that in fact he did, he'd been his parents best friend,

Remus was so eager to hear if he was reading this right he couldn't even bring himself to make a crack about that.

that he was a convicted murderer,

"What a lovely way to start," James beamed, bouncing in place and making baby Harry trill with laughter.

and that he was on the run for now, but he'd be checking in on Harry frequently, to make sure he was happy of course.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes," Lily cheered, doing a little happy dance. If that didn't scare those Dursleys into treating Harry right then nothing would!

Still grinning at the look of horror on his Uncle's face, Harry wheeled his cart towards the cars outside, hoping for a much better summer than the last.

That wasn't the happy ending they'd all wanted, so many things had been left unresolved and they were just so tired of at the end of everything Harry was still forced back into their presence, but for now they'd take whatever happiness they could find, knowing by now it wasn't meant to last.

THE END

"That's the end of this one," Remus finally breathed in relief as he gave it a careless toss away from him.

"Finally," Sirius moaned, slumping back and running his hand across his face. "Remind me to skip the next one."

"No way," Harry yelped in protest, now trying for a frown but just unable to keep the expression as he teased, "then I'd miss out on all the Sirius/ serious jokes."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Lily scoffed, trying to lounge a bit more comfortably as she noticed the time. It was still too early for the next meal, but she had something even more important she wanted to discuss. She didn't really want to bring it up, but she turned to Remus with regret filled eyes and began carefully, "Remus dear, we need to have a talk."

"I know," he agreed at once, some color coming into his pasty skin, though it was red tinted with shame and some fear. His eyes flickered to the baby in James lap and away again, his hands starting to tremble as the idea just kept replaying in his head of what he'd almost done to that baby, what he could do tonight. For a wild moment he wanted to suggest that he should try to leave. Most likely the same thing would happen to him, he'd be knocked out for trying to vacate and the true monster should be as well...but what if that didn't happen? He'd never yet seen magic that would affect his transformation, so what if he did go on a rampage and possibly hurt someone? He couldn't ask Harry to come, it would be far too dangerous either way. Either Harry would be out there alone with him unconscious, or he'd have to single handedly deal with a full grown werewolf.

"You guys are overreacting," Sirius scoffed, placing his elbow carelessly on Remus' shoulder and trying for an offhand tone. "The three of us will barricade ourselves in one of the guest rooms, we'll repair whatever damage we'll make, and be done with it. Moony won't get past us," he finished, gesturing at himself and James for emphasis. "Then I'll come back down here, crash on the couch for a day, and we'll all be good to go."

"Just one problem," Harry frowned, "you should sleep in an actual bed."

Sirius made to shrug that off, but Harry cut him off.

"No way," Harry insisted, a set look in place and crossing his arms. He looked so much like James in that moment Sirius actually had to do a double take. "I've heard how bad this was going to get, and you should get a real bed. I'm sleeping down here tonight, I don't get special treatment."

"Looks like you lost Pads," James snickered as he stretched to stand up.

Remus rolled his eyes to cover a scowl as he muttered something about going to the bathroom and exited the room.

HPHPHPHPHP

Insane girly squealing taking place probably in the background even as you're reading this! I cannot believe I've actually completed three books in a row! There was a lot of hype and build up for this book, and I hope I did it justice! Please let me know what you liked or didn't like!? Got any plot holes or questions in general you want to see me dissect? Got two more chapters to post before I create 4, just because I really couldn't cram everything into the bottom of this one this time. Promise it will come up very soon, ain't no way I'm stopping now!

Thoughts on Prisoner of Azkaban:

The beginning, set up, and basically anything I've ever said previously regarding this series, still holds true 98% through the largest of portions through this book. It never felt like it was dragging to me, once again I was completely thrown off by the bang of a plot twist at the end, the setup of some small backstory on Harry's dad was done beautifully but never felt forced, there is a reason this is my second favorite book in the series. My only reserve on this book is the time travel plot at the end, which I've stated my opinion on, but even that's done so well I can't find nearly as much to complain about as I can in other medias this is done. The wonderful world of Harry Potter has successfully done one of my biggest problems of a plot and gotten away with it beautifully because of the way in which it happened. 9/10 for me! You cannot skip this book by any means, it holds too much for what happens in later books, and why would you with characters like these?

*Question offered by nahte123456! Thank you for the endless discussions you always offer!

** Question offered by maana999, kudos to you, I've never seen anyone ask this, hope you like my explanation.

***I've got a second story called Moon and Stars where Remus and Sirius do have a proper goodbye.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #Marauders #PoA #reading the books #James Potter #Lily Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black

4 notes · View notes

ibijau · 4 years

Note

Worst engagement AU! Will lxc visiting qinghe nie after nhs return home after his Second year?

Worst engagement AU // on AO3

He will!

Set before this little thing where nhs visits Gusu again

The best place to hang out undisturbed, Nie Huaisang has figured out, is a little alcove hidden behind the throne room. Nobody ever goes in there, and he's half sure nobody even remembers it exists.

He's done some research, and it was built with the main room so the sect leader's wives could listen in on sect business without being seen by guests. It's not very big, but it's comfortable enough that he can lounge around and paint, or read, or just listen to his brother's increasing frustration over not finding him for sabre practice. It's Nie Huaisang’s second favourite place in the Unclean Realm, right after the place where he keeps his birds.

He is particularly grateful for this little secret when his brother has guests. Nie Huaisang can't fully avoid those, it'd be rude, but at least it lets him know what to expect.

This morning, as he is lazing around with a book of particularly bad poetry, Nie Huaisang is startled to hear a familiar voice conversing with his brother.

"I'm really sorry for dropping unannounced," Lan Xichen is saying. "I apologise for the inconvenience. But since I was in the area, I thought it'd be ridiculous not to say hi."

Even perfectly hidden as he is, Nie Huaisang can't help but tense. This is the first time he's anywhere near Lan Xichen since graduating a few weeks ago. He's not nervous, of course he's not, but he's also. Not quite comfortable.

"Well, you know I'm always happy to see you," Nie Mingjue replies. "I'm a little busy right now, but if you don't mind waiting…"

"Actually…"

There is a moment of silence. Nie Huaisang is tempted to check what's happening through one of the small openings that exist for that exact purpose, but before he gets to that, Lan Xichen speaks again.

"Actually, and I hope you won't mind," he says, sounding oddly uncertain, "but the person I was most hoping to see is your brother. I'll be happy to chat with you as well of course, but if he allows it I'd like to spend time with him."

Nie Huaisang feels punched, but in the main room, his brother just laughs.

"What, you didn't get enough of that brat last year? After how much you complained that he doesn't like you, I'd have thought you'd be glad not to see him until the wedding."

"Mingjue, don't tease me."

"Why not? I don't get the chance often. Oh, fine, I won't. I will survive this betrayal of seeing my brother's company over mine, so go chat with him if you like. You'll have to find him first, though. He's gotten a little too good at hiding."

"Then with your permission, I'll look for him. I'm sure he'll let himself be found if he wishes to be, and otherwise… I'll just wait for you to be free."

Lan Xichen sounds so resigned, as if he dares not hope for the first option but the second would make him sad.

It's just so awkward to hear him be like this. Nie Huaisang kinds of miss the days when Lan Xichen was nothing but cold and insufferable. It made it easy to hate him, and at least Nie Huaisang knew where they stood. Now though… he just doesn't know what to make of his fiancé anymore. He's starting to wonder if maybe Lan Xichen wasn't sincere that day when he apologised, when he promised to improve and that's absolutely awful. It makes everything too complicated.

So Nie Huaisang discreetly escapes, and goes to hide with his birds. It's not as good of a hiding place, but being with them always calms him down. Luckily it's even cleaning day, so that's a good hour of hard work to distract him from the perspective of maybe facing his fiancé.

There's only a few birds left, that incident really decimated them. He can't even get new ones. In little more than a year, two at most, he'll have to leave them behind for good, so it'd be pointless. As he cleans the cages and checks on their food and water, Nie Huaisang focuses on that future loss. If he thinks of everything that he'll leave behind, he can make himself hate Lan Xichen again, almost.

"Good afternoon, Nie gongzi."

Nie Huaisang startles at the sudden appearance of Lan Xichen, and nearly drops the seeds he was carrying for his pair of parakeets. He quickly recovers though, and bows to his visitor.

"Lan gongzi, what a surprise! I had no idea you were coming to the Unclean Realm. If you're looking for my brother, you might want to try the training grounds."

"I've seen your brother already, and told him you were the one I was visiting this time," Lan Xichen explains. Even though Nie Huaisang already knew that, it sends his heart racing to hear it said so calmly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Mingjue was not sure where you might be," Lan Xichen continues, "so he allowed me to look for you while he handles other business. This seemed like a good place to start, and I was right."

This is too embarrassing. Nie Huaisang turns around, ostensibly so he can continue feeding his birds.

"Lan gongzi must find me very childish, still so obsessed with my pets."

Lan Xichen does not reply right away. Nie Huaisang hates how careful he is.

"If I have accused you of this, and for that reason, I'm sorry," he says at last, sounding painfully earnest. "It was wrong of me. From what your brother says, you are very diligent at caring for your birds and except when forced to go away, you always take full responsibility for them. There's nothing childish about that."

Nie Huaisang's heart squeezes at the words, so painfully he almost feels like he's dying. He hates this. He misses the days when he could just tell himself it was all fake, that Lan Xichen was either forcing himself or subtly insulting him.

"You're always trying so hard to say the right thing," Nie Huaisang accuses, with far less venom than he intended. It's really getting harder to be mean to Lan Xichen. He hates that too.

"I hope I can do the right thing as well. Just saying it doesn't do much good."

Nie Huaisang sighs. This is annoying. He hates that his heart beats faster, he hates that his cheeks feel warmer, he hates that he desperately wants Lan Xichen to be sincere.

"Listen, just… give me a moment to finish this," he sighs. "Then we can go back and have tea or something. We have actual, nice biscuits here. They even taste sweet, if you can believe that."

Behind him, Lan Xichen chuckles lightly. It's not an unpleasant sound.

"If you tell me what to do, I can try to help you," Lan Xichen offers. "Though I'll understand if you'd rather I didn't."

"You'll get messy."

Another soft chuckle, making Nie Huaisang’s heart beat too hard. It's stupid, and he hates that like he hates all the rest, but he likes that Lan Xichen stopped trying to be controlled and perfect with him. He likes it too much. He hates it.

"I can survive a little mess."

"Then grab that bucket and bring it near that big cage, I need to clean that one next."

"The one with the myna?"

"Hm."

Nie Huaisang hates that Lan Xichen apparently knows a little about birds. He hates that Lan Xichen doesn't complain as he grabs that bucket filled with filth and carries it as if it weighed nothing. He hates that Lan Xichen smiles at the bird inside and comments how pretty it is. He hates that Lan Xichen asks if he can do anything more.

Nie Huaisang hates Lan Xichen because that's what he's done for so long now, and he's not ready yet to face the new warmth in his chest when he looks at the other boy.

#xisang #worst engagement au #jau writes #I hope everyone is happy to find that nhs is as much of a mess as lxc when it comes to emotions #they deserve each other lol #Anonymous

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obiyuki-beebs · 4 years

Note

I found this in chapter 56 and I thought it was kinda interesting. While Zen is comforting Shirayuki as she's crying, Mitsuhide says,"But this is about Zen and Shirayuki. I don't think this sudden distance is a big problem. It's not like being apart would cause their existence to become smaller in each other's lives." Maybe it's foreshadowing they will separate? What are your thoughts on this? Do you think ObiYuki still has a chance or is it just the author toying with us?

hi anon!! (￣ω￣)

Short answer:

Yes, Whoaboy get ready I have some THOUGHTS, YESS!! and No.

I have been sitting on this ask for a long time sorry for le wait

The vast majority of this post is below the cut. I hope it is not too much / addresses what you meant.

Here are some notes before I subject whoever reads this to my madness:

These little moments of “It’s okay to do what you want to do” always strike me, and I think about them when I’m considering Zen v Obi endgame because it opens up the possibility that things can change.

Yes it’s a shojo and shojo protagonists tend to stick with their initial love interest... blah blah blah. I don’t think this preconceived notion of how shojo manga ‘always goes’ is a valid point anymore.

So .... I think the comments we are both thinking of usually refer to Shirayuki’s Path and how she must be able to Stand By Zen’s Side as an Ally, etc. So I’ll kind of be thinking of this from the angle of a Journey.

Everything discussed is also after The Play We Believe is Foreshadowing (except for the panels pulled from ch 9 and 20) which I think should be considered for the context of the plot.

If it is actually foreshadowing for an eventual Obi & Shirayuki story arc -- which tbh we might be in the midst of (currently) at ch 117 without realizing it -- then it’s relevant to how we frame the comments made afterwards. At the end of the day, Akizuki-sensei is an author. She is telling us a story. I think it’s reasonable to seek out clues to foreshadowing in fictional stories. So I’m operating under a 90% certainty that the play is foreshadowing.

I have found that the best (fictional) stories are ones that have been planned carefully. I have no way of verifying if AnS has been so precisely crafted to weave in so much foreshadowing that we speculate over, but damn it sure feels like it was.

The manga was originally just the first chapter, so we can assume that after writing that chapter and deciding to make it into a series, there was some planning done.

ANyway............... strong speculation ahead. I think I was ~60% thorough in my search to find material relevant to Foreshadowing of a Separation.

Please enjoy!

1) So we’ll start with a panel from ch 9,

where Zen is considering his relationship with Shirayuki and his growing crush.

This panel is, as stated above, part of the story that Akizuki expanded on after the original one-shot. In the first chapter, we get a lot of cute fate-chitchat between Zen and Shirayuki, but I think -- after deciding to continue the story -- Akizuki changed the tone to allow for more character development, and to challenge the Fate tropes often seen in romance.

Thus, the statement above from Zen that they may not always be together.

foreshadowing ?! ( ˙▿˙ )

___________________________

2) In Chapter 28,

we have the crew essentially saying they are all growing stronger for the sake of each other, and lending their strength as needed.

Within the story, Akizuki-sensei has established a theme of moving forward and changing as needed as a way to get stronger.

Mitsuhide says this to Shirayuki, also in Ch 28:

Why .... does Mitsuhide look so serious as he says this to her? Is he reconciling the fact that Shirayuki and Zens paths may diverge at some point, as they do for the Lyrias arc?

He follows up the above statement with:

He goes on to say,

“I want you to follow your heart so you can stand on your own wherever Zen takes you.”

So... maybe that context takes away some of the significance for fellow lovers of AnS. But I don’t think we should just ignore the statement.

I think she’s being given permission to change her mind; that it’s okay for her to have feelings for Zen, but it’s also okay if she chooses to end things. Mitsuhide will support her either way.

Even though the the full remark still has to do with Zen, she is being encouraged to stand on her own. She is her own person. She has friends who will still be there even if she chooses something different from what people expect of her.

In this case -- pertaining to AnS as a whole, from the perspective of everyone who ‘knows’ about ZenYuki in-story and also (meta!) the manga readers -- Shirayuki is expected to someday marry Zen.

After this, in Chapter 29, Izana is a bit derisive to Shirayuki after she gets the title from Tanbarun. I think his comments are intentionally made to make her uncomfortable. He says,

“Hahahaha! What an unusual title! Amazing!”

- cue confusion from Zen and Shirayuki -

“I wasn’t poking fun at it, it’s just a bit strange. Hmm... before, I said a nobody like her at your side would sully your name, Zen, but with this you can be friends without any such worry, right?

“Shirayuki, I’ve never asked what kind of relationship you want to have with Zen. And I don’t know if it’s something that can be said.”

Alrighty. So. Izana says in front of Shirayuki that he had described her as a nobody. This seems like something said meant to disquiet her, and her initial reaction is, “taken aback,” so we can safely say it was at least temporarily disconcerting for her to hear. I imagine it’s hurtful to hear you were once thought of as someone unworthy of notice.

Don’t get me wrong, I think most of what Izana says and does is in relatively good faith. I think the fandom has come to a general conclusion that he’s testing their relationship.

Obi finds her in the early morning and he notices that she’s upset, commenting that she’s making a strange face. She is still thinking about what Izana said, and Obi asks,

“Is it about the path you want to take?”

“....No. It’s that I haven’t given it any thought.”

Zen already wishes (though I don’t think he’s explicitly stated it the way he does later in ch 33) to marry Shirayuki, and we see her here facing emotional turmoil because that part of her future isn’t something she has thought about yet. Interesting, to say the least.

I’m not really sure about this, but it seems like she either means where Zen is taking her and / or where she can stand on her own.

And then .......

“Obi, will you lend me a hand?”

“Didn’t I tell you before that I’ll take you wherever you want to go?”

This part of the story is still heavy ZenYuki, but I think Obi saying this to her right now is significant. Akizuki has repeatedly weaved Shirayuki’s path into the themes of the story so far, while contrasting that Zen will meet her at her destination, while Obi will be at her side for the journey.

Zen and Shirayuki meet and talk. They basically address that Shirayuki doesn’t really know what the future holds, but that she still wants to stand by his side, and says that even though he’s a prince she wants to think it’s okay for her to feel that way.

You almost forget about the significance of Obi and Shirayuki’s relationship when it’s followed up by this ZenYuki scene. I wonder about the aforementioned nature-of-planning involved in the story and the future of the characters at this point.

gnah how did this post get so long already

___________________________

3) Zen has presumably given his blessing for Obi to be happy in love

In chapter 31, while the group is stranded outside Wistal due to rain, Zen and Obi are in the bath talking about the possibility of Kiki and Mitsuhide getting married.

“It’s fine with me as long as they can say that they’re happy. I intend to make sure of that.”

“You’ll make sure of that?”

“The same applies to you too, Obi.”

More foreshadowing? Presently it seems that the MitsuKiki ship has sunk, so contrasting this conversation to current-manga-events is titillating to me. ESPECIALLY because Zen says that he wants to make sure Obi is happy when Zen knows how Obi feels about Shirayuki. So it’s established that they will support one another as friends.

Later, Kiki and Mitsuhide are talking after dinner and discuss how the nature of Zen and Shirauki’s friendship never changes (that’s the impression I got from it). Mitsuhide recalls when he and Zen talked about the same thing:

I think what Kiki and Mitsuhide are referring to is that Zen and Shirayuki have made a conscious effort to become friends despite the barriers they’ve encountered so far, by way of them showing the strength of their mutual respect and desire to aid one another. I get a similar feel from the conversation between Zen and Mitsuhide.

And then .....

“The two of us will always be friends.”

ahem

Zen saying this -- in context to everything from the past four chapters -- implies that Zen is okay if their relationship is not romantic. If it is true that the mangas plot was deliberately planned out, these chapters will become increasingly interesting to look back on as the plot progresses.

The direction of the story has changed since then if we are only looking at the big turning point of Mitsuhide rejecting Kiki.

And despite that rejection, the group is still a group despite their physical distance.

___________________________

Brief note to say that in Ch 33 Izana says to Zen,

“Let me be an ally as you and Shirayuki follow your own path.”

While this is a ZenYuki comment, I see it as Akizuki reinforcing that each character is following their own path and they will be supported as they do.

___________________________

3.5) After this point is the first Lyrias arc,

where obiyuki shippers are starting to salivate over how much is packed in just for their relationship. I mean .... remember when she pushed him to the ground because she thought he would get hit by snow? And he gives her those moony eyes just like it didn’t stop ... my heart

UGH JUST SAYING IT BECAUSE context! Shirayuki’s path is changing slowly, and Obi is still by her side.

___________________________

4) A period of transition

I think this is around the time the Bergatt arc is actually beginning, leading up even to current-manga-events.

In Chapter 53

And thus, they head towards the path that a new wind blows upon.

The times are changing.

While Shirayuki is preparing for her and Ryuu’s move to Lyrias, Zen and co. are at Wilant meeting with Haruto, who describes fools aiming to throw the country into turmoil. This is a seed for the plot that develops, ie, the Bergatt arc that was not actually resolved when Touka gets taken down at Sereg in ch (?) 86. I bring this up because I think it shows the level of planning that Akizuki has put into the story at this point.

In chapter 55, after Shirayuki has finally been able to tell Zen she’ll be away from Wistal for 2 years, and they have this conversation (slightly paraphrased) after he’s processed for a short time:

Zen -

“Sorry. The fact that you would be leaving the castle was something that I’d never considered. So my reaction was a little slow.

“I’ll hear it. I’m sure there was more you wanted to say.”

Shirayuki -

“I’m really glad that I got to meet you and come to the castle! I’m where I am now because I wanted to become Zen’s ally; and i achieved that by coming to the castle and becoming a royal pharmacist.

“I’m sure that, like how it’s always been, there’s something ahead connecting to my path now. That’s why, because there’s a place I have yet to go, I want to be there.”

This is Zen’s face after she says the above:

What is he thinking? Is he worried about their romantic relationship? I interpret it as preemptive disappointment that they may not stay together.

Shortly after we get to the point you made in your ask (sweet anon) re ch 56 with Mitsuhides comment. This adds to the reinforced theme that change is okay and they will all still be friends and allies regardless of where life takes them.

BUT IMMEDIATELY AFTER Mitsuhide says that in reference to Zen and Shirayuki, Obi responds:

Is Akizuki drawing a parallel between MitsuKiki and ZenYuki? No idea. maybe. But somehow I do not find it coincidental.

This seems like a MitsuKiki hint, meant to fuel the ultra-shippable pair that we all loved... but after the rejected proposal, it’s hard not to see the whole situation differently re: zenyuki / obiyuki and mitsukiki / hisakiki.

Then the first true ObiYuki hug, and this:

“It feels as though Obi might suddenly appear in Lyrias!”

girl you already knew. Shirayuki knows that Obi will follow her.

Obi deliberately postpones going to Lyrias, though, in order to consider his feelings for Shirayuki and how to tell Zen.

Then!! in 58-59 we get long-awaited confirmation from Obi that he has feelings for Shirayuki, and after this beautiful moment Obi goes to Lyrias to be at Shirayuki’s side, and after everything that has happened so far that is a clincher for me regarding our beloved Foreshadowing.

While discussing Obi’s crush on Shirayuki, Obi asks Zen

“Aren’t you going to propose?”

“.......................Well, I’m.. making her .. wait.”

“Master ... I don’t recommend postponing it, you know.”

I wonder about this comment. Is this a clue for us that Zen postponing engagement is going to be a negative thing in the future?

idk maybe ╮(￣ω￣)╭

Either way ........ This transition period, in between Lyrias 1 and 2, shows us that the story is changing.

___________________________

I have definitely not covered all of the possible moments of foreshadowing and am actually going to leave off on that topic for the time being. I might do a part 2 as its own post.

But for now I will switch to previously mentioned point that...

5) Obi and Shirayuki’s paths are walked together

I think the following two panels are a great way to frame their relationship. Chapter 20 in early Tanbarun arc:

And then, much later in chapter 106 as they stand by the fire and Shirayuki tells Obi he’s handsome in the light:

“... because you come with me.” ( ╥ω╥ )

And then more delightful talk from chapter 104 that I think is ... gasp

foreshadowing !!!!!

They are having this discussion after they’ve found out about Kiki becoming engaged to Hisame.

“It’s necessary to have the courage to make a decision and take a step down that path, isn’t it?”

Shirayuki is possibly saying this due to the implications of Kiki’s letter. Kiki has made the choice to take a new path from the one she had been on by marrying Hisame.

So what about Shirayuki’s journey? Has her growth led her to a path she didn’t expect, and now it will take courage to step down it?

In recent chapters Shirayuki is shown to be seeing Obi differently and as a man:

overhearing him calling her beautiful and being surprised that he is embarrassed she heard

witnessing him going to a marriage meeting

that little moment where he is holding her wrist as a Lyrias knight tells him that the knights sister wishes him luck in love

the firelight comment oh my god

realizing she lost the pin Obi gave her and tearing up as she literally stared at him; upset that the gift she cherished is now missing and potentially realizing how very dear to her Obi actually is

fake dating and the 10 seconds of ... just... I still cant even

Obi is the one who is by Shirayuki’s side. They developed a bond through years friendship that is now being reframed by Akizuki. The nature of their relationship has been slowly changing and I think we approaching a time in the manga where Shirayuki will realize it.

___________________________

To answer your last question ... I do think ObiYuki has a chance and I do not think the author is just toying with us. I’ve talked a lot about my ObiYuki Endgame feels in previous posts/asks. I could probably talk about it forever but this post is absurdly long .... sorry

Thank you so much for the ask! and wow thank you so much if you actually read this whole thing!

<3 beebs <3

#obiyuki #obi x shirayuki #speculating #so much speculating #ask beebs #i dont think this is even my longest post #that may be an issue #ans #akagami no shirayukihime #obyuki #meta

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stetervault · 4 years

Note

Hey buddy, do you have any favorite can div steter fics x

Lmao I actually couldn’t figure out what can div meant when I saw this ask last night and it was bugging me so much, and then I went to bed and woke up this morning and literally my first thought was OH canon divergence.

So ok here are some off the top of my head:

steel bars and blood-slick hands by Corpium

When Deaton whisks Peter’s burnt, gasping body away to Eichen House, everyone else pays the price, Stiles most of all.

drowning in the sea of you by Corpium

Beacon Hills was perfect for Stiles growing up, but now, with werewolves, hunters, and an anxious best friend running around, it’s turning into a place too chaotic for an empath like Stiles to handle alone. And pain killers can only go so far.

Chances by Corpium

Claudia is still alive (and sick) when Stiles and Scott search for a body in the woods.

Tremors by Corpium

(Stiles has a taste for him now. All Peter needs to do is wait.)

Lucky Penny (Tastes Like Copper on Your Tongue) by pibroch (littleblackdog)

When Peter woke up, he spent a good fifteen or twenty seconds earnestly wishing that whatever had hit him had the courtesy to kill him outright. Because this? This was bullshit.

AKA the time I decided to give Peter all the nice things, but made him get hit by a car first. Like you do.

Sympathy for the Devil by KouriArashi

Stiles gets a job as a hospital orderly and finds himself becoming strangely attached to the catatonic man on the long-term care ward, and finds out that there’s a lot more to Peter Hale than there seems…

this is the wolf by pprfaith

In which Peter watches Stiles, at sixteen, five, seven, always.

Five Times Stiles Pulled One from the Oven (and One Time Somebody Else Did) by Guede

Five times Stiles’ baking changed the course of history in Beacon Hills (and one time somebody stepped up for him). Or, Stiles Stilinski: Baking is Magic!

The Devil You Know by Twisted_Mind

He’s so tired, in every way it’s possible to be tired. He tried going for a walk tonight to prevent a panic attack, and ended up being rescued, dazed and bleeding, by Peter Hale. There are so many things wrong with that sentence he doesn’t even know where to start. Panic attacks. Being stuck inside his brain sucking so hard he needed to be alone and moving. The sense of relief that came with crashing into Peter.He shouldn’t be okay with this. He didn’t give Peter permission to sleep in his bed. His dad will be home soon. Peter’s more than a decade older than him. Peter can’t be trusted.

But he’s tired, and this feels so, so good.

Into the Sea of Waking Dreams by Green

“Nothing is happening to me,” Stiles says slowly.

“You’ve been acting weird,” Derek says.

I’m being haunted by my dead mate, Stiles wants to say, but he swears he can hear Peter humming. If it’s not real, he doesn’t want to know.

(S2 AU in which Peter haunts Stiles instead of Lydia.)

For Great Justice! by Green

Stiles is a vengeance demon, drawn to Peter just as he’s waking from his catatonia.

“Whoever did this? We will make those fuckers suffer. I promise you.”

We are Who We Choose to Follow by kiranightshade

The road is dark. Stiles is maybe a little suicidal. But maybe there’s someone left to live for after all.

Going Through Hell (Your Heart in My Hands) by Ceris_Malfoy

There’s a reason Stiles always knows things he really, really shouldn’t. There’s a reason why Peter respected his choice all those months ago. There’s a part of Stiles he hides from everyone, even himself.

And then this Darach comes and steals the center of his world right out from under him, and nothing will ever be the same.

Especially not for Peter Hale.

The Choices We Make by Therapeutic_Steter

“You’re quite the clever one, aren’t you?” Peter mused, voice like honey.

“I like to think so.“

“What’s your name?”

“Stiles.”

Peter smiled slowly, looking like a cat that just caught the canary. “Well hello, Stiles,” he purred, eyes flashing a bloody red.

Stiles grinned victoriously. Viciously.

The hunt was on.

Once Upon a Dream by Ragga

It was like the door was on fire.

Stiles stood there, staring. As the realization sunk in, he slowly reached for the doorknob. He grabbed it. It burned, as if blazing hot and freezing cold at the same time. He was stuck, fascinated, and then the door clicked-

-and he was blasted with rage and grief so powerful the next thing he saw was the ceiling of his room.

Who was that?

Bite by wynnebat

“I don’t want to be like you,” Stiles says, but in some ways he already is. In other ways, they only become similar as the years pass.

At Home in the Ash by thegirlwhoknits

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you. Whoever did this, they killed my only family, too.”

Climbing up onto the bed, she lays her head on his shoulder and moves his hand to rest over her heart. “You need a pack, right? Maybe…maybe I can be your pack, and you can be my family. I’ll help you get better, and then you can help me kill them.”

From Ashes Rebuilt by ambersagen

“You shouldn’t be alive,” Stiles finally admitted. He sounded sorry, smelled like anxiety and hunched in on himself as he fell back from Peter to land in the dented chair. “I heard the doctors telling your niece. She wasn’t quiet about it, and no one cares if I’m around anyway so I heard the whole thing, about your burns. I snuck in to see you.”

“Like a sideshow freak,” Peter sneered, starting to understand.

“Like a miracle,” Stiles corrected.

Into Eden by GracieBirdie

Stiles deciding to bring home the stray alpha he’d hit with his jeep probably made him certifiable, if it hadn’t turned out Peter was as crazy as he was.

Too Much Of A Good Thing by GracieBirdie

Stiles can’t just leave Boyd and Erica chained up in a hunter’s basement, and if the only person willing to listen to him when he asks for help is a formerly dead psychopath? Well, Stiles supposes he could do worse. But of course nothing in Stiles’ life is ever just that simple…

All The Things We’d Do by GracieBirdie

Stiles’ time travel spell doesn’t work out quite right but he figures he should make the best of it, starting with Laura Hale.

Our Skin, Our Bones, Our Silent Poems by taylorpotato

Peter is a Deaf werewolf. Stiles is a CODA (Child of a Deaf Adult). They’re a kind of unlikely pair. But sometimes things you wouldn’t think of as a good combination, end up turning out to be the perfect combination, you know?

What it Means by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

“Do you think I don’t know what a bite on the wrist means??”

Peter had not, in fact, thought that Stiles would know what it means, but he wasn’t about to let him know that.

The Chasm and the Clash by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

Stiles has dreams of the Alpha after he dies. It makes no sense. He didn’t know Peter before… did he?

Did Peter know him?

And why does his head hurt so much?

Everything You Deserve by Areiton

You think about it. More than you should, you think about it. About what would have happened, if you had bitten Stiles instead of Scott.

Waiting for Pack by DiscontentedWinter, hisaribi

This isn’t the first time Stiles has woken up in a different world.This isn’t the first time that Peter has been caught in a place where time doesn’t exist.Except this time they have each other.

Save Me by DiscontentedWinter

Peter is the Alpha.He’s nobody’s savior.Not his pack’s. Not his town’s. And not that kid’s.But sometimes salvation goes both ways.

With Great Power by Triangulum

Stiles has known what he is since birth (and before, really), though his father doesn’t. He thinks his mother suspected, had an idea that her son wasn’t really her son. She was perceptive that way, and Stiles wonders if she maybe had a touch of magic. He thinks that’s why when her disease seized her, she screamed that he was evil, that he was trying to kill her. That he wasn’t really hers. Everyone had chalked it up to the dementia getting worse, but Stiles wonders how much of it was her being unable to contain her suspicions and letting them run wild. Once Claudia dies, Stiles is truly the only one who knows he’s other. That is, until Peter.

Razor Edge of Danger by Triangulum

It starts with Gerard. After the clusterfuck of Stiles crashing into the kanima with his jeep, Jackson’s ‘death’ and werewolf resurrection, Lydia and Jackson go off together, Scott goes after Allison, and Derek, broken and hurt from yet another betrayal and use of his body against his will, takes Isaac and leaves, unable to look at any of them. That leaves Stiles standing next to his battered jeep, arms wrapped around his aching ribs. No one so much as looks his way. Except for Peter.

#teen wolf #steter #fanfic rec #canon divergence #ask #anonymous #rec list

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chris-evans-indian-fanfic · 4 years

Text

21st Century Vampire

One-Shot

Description: Marvel AU where Steve is a vampire who works at a blood donation centre.

Warning: Just mentions of blood, nothing gore.

This one-shot is my entry for @caplanbuckybarnes writing challenge! There are some hilarious prompts on the list! Check it out now!

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

Steve Rogers was probably the world's worst vampire. Even after being alive for more than a century now, he was broke. And where did he manage to find work? At a blood donation centre! Disgusting! He was lucky there were very few vampires in LA, or his reputation would have been shredded to bits. A vampire working at a blood donation centre? Humiliating! Dishonorable!

Steve hated working there. The stench of human blood was nauseating, the human beings more so. But unfortunately, the pay was decent and his colleagues were understanding. Nobody questioned his extremely pale skin, or found it weird that Steve never stepped out when the sun was still in the sky. Everybody quietly accepted that he was allergic to garlic without posing any further inquiries.

Working as a receptionist, he led quite a dull life work-wise. There wasn't really much for him to do except ask people to fill forms and sometimes calm down nervous first-time donors. He was generally patient with the humans, always biting back his wincing words, or trying his best to be as sympathetic as possible. Hey, after spending almost a 100 years on the planet, he could try to be a little more patient and a little less condescending.

But his calm and collected facade came crashing down the day you walked into the centre.

Flaunting a latest (and factually incorrect) vampire-teenager-love novel in your hand, you headed towards him and flashed a nervous smile. "Hi, do you guys take blood?"

Steve commended himself on the amount of self control it took not to roll his eyes. "You can donate blood here miss, if that's what you are talking about."

"Yes yes that's what I meant. I want to give blood. Where do I go?" you glanced towards the door beside the reception area.

"Kindly fill this form first ma'am," Steve pushed a familiar document towards you.

You filled it up pretty fast, leaving the space for your blood group blank. "I don't know what my blood group is. Is that okay?"

Calm down Steve, you can do this. "No ma'am that is not okay. When was the last time you took a blood test?"

You only bit your lower lip in response.

"We will have to get a blood report done first, then you can donate ma'am," Steve explained irritably.

You nodded, "Ummm yeah, sure, absolutely. It's not like I am scared of needles or blood or anything. I read vampire fics for a reason, people!" you told a semi-empty waiting room.

Steve squinted his eyes at you, "Are you scared, miss?"

You paused for a bit, then pointed at your book, "Yeah… But you know if I can handle the blood sucking scene in the book, I can surely handle a machine sucking my blood, right?" you tried laughing but only a dry sound escaped your throat.

Steve couldn't take it anymore. He hated novels that portrayed vampires as just human blood sucking creatures. He rolled his eyes at her, "That book is the worst kind of literature you can read. It is full of false information. Do yourself a favour and throw it in the bin."

A frown creased your forehead as you let his spiteful words sink in, "Who cares? It is still a great novel! And all the places that the author has mentioned exist in real life! So I don't know what you are talking about."

"Really? Just the real places are important to you? What about all the incorrect facts about vampires?" Steve replied hotly.

"What about it? The author has portrayed vampires in a completely different light!" you exclaimed.

Steve laughed an empty laugh, "Oohhh no! Vampires are NOT featured differently in that novel or in any other works throughout the world! They do not crave human blood. Infact, vampires hate human blood and everything to do with humans!"

"Oh yeah? And how do you know so much about vampires?"

On any other day, Steve would have backed down, claimed himself as a vampire enthusiast and accepted his defeat, but not today. Not on the full moon night he knew would turn Bucky into a tamed werewolf. He knew by the time he would reach home, Bucky would have eaten his carpets, bumped his head against himself in the mirror, ripped his stuffed toys and then cried over them. Today he had to deal with an emotional Bucky for the entire night.

Then there was you. So stubborn to accept the truth that you were willing to argue with a complete stranger about your cursed book.

The sheer stench of human blood added to the horrible cocktail of things that flipped off Steve.

Today would be the day Steve would lose his patience.

"BECAUSE I AM A VAMPIRE!" he screamed at the room.

His announcement was followed by pin-drop silence.

Unable to bear it anymore, he started his rant, "Do you think we vampires hunt humans? Of course not! There are so many of you guys in the world that it never was, is not and will never be considered as a sport! And no, our skin doesn't sparkle in the sunlight like freaking diamonds! Our sensitive skin gets burnt in the sunlight!"

His thin chest heaved as he struggled to maintain his breath, "No garlic and silver can kill us! We are all allergic to garlic. And silver gives us rashes on our skin. But do you know what is the worst part of being a vampire? The immortality! I am a 100-years-old vampire who is still somehow broke! And where did I finally manage to find work? At a freaking disgusting blood donation centre!"

You had moved away from his desk, afraid of his sudden outburst.

The door next to the reception area opened as a tall, dark man poked his head out. "Is everything okay out here?" Dr Sam Wilson asked, taking in the scene before him.

Steve was still panting as the others in the waiting room just looked at him in shock. A few had their phones out and seemed to be recording something.

"Dr. Wilson," somebody asked, "Is it true what this man said? Is he really a vampire?"

Sam looked at Steve, lines of exasperation evident on his face, "Ma'am, vampires, witches, wizards, werewolves etc do not exist in the real world."

He turned to Steve, "Steve, what's going on?"

"He just told us all that he was a vampire," you said, "Went on quite a detailed rant about it."

"Steve," Sam managed to say in a bitter tone.

"Why have you hired such wackos doc?" a man asked from the crowd.

"I am not a wacko!" Steve retaliated, "I am a vampire!"

"Then turn into a bat now!" the same guy challenged him.

"Huh! Vampires can't turn into bats. Some vampires liked to have bats as pets earlier," Steve defended his point.

"Steve, pack your things. You are fired," said a grim Sam.

"But I really am…"

"Steve, I have tolerated your outbursts in the past. I am not going to forgive you again. This is an highly unprofessional and unacceptable behaviour. You are fired effective immediately," Sam stood his ground.

Steve scoffed. So much for telling the truth.

He gathered his things and left, mad at himself, mad at the world, mad at Dr Erskine for turning him into a vampire just so that he could join the army.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice as you caught up with him. "Hey," you softly said to get his attention.

Steve jumped. You quietly chuckled at his reaction. "Aren't vampires supposed to be aware of their surroundings?"

He threw you a disgusted look and kept on walking.

"Hey wait!" you called out after him. "Are you really a vampire?"

He looked at you at that moment. The sincerity in your eyes softened his. "Yeah," he muttered.

"Can you keep a secret?" you whispered.

Steve leaned in closer to you. "I am a witch."

He looked upwards, rolled his eyes and started walking again.

"Wait! Don't you believe me?"

"No I don't! And I really enjoyed the joke. So thank you!" he shouted back.

You saw his dark silhouette become a small dot on the horizon as a plan formed in your head. A vampire was maybe just the missing piece of the puzzle. You already had a speedster, a magician who practised the dark arts, a man with superhuman strength, another who could spin spider webs through his hands and lastly, a man who could fly.

You smiled at yourself. An army of some of the strongest men on Earth was just what you needed to start a revolution. An army of men, led by you, the Scarlet Witch.

Permanent tag: @donutloverxo

Taglists open!

#cappysforeverchallenge #Steve!vampire #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers angst #Steve Rogers x Vampire au #avengers au #Steve Rogers x vampire

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thewhumperinwhite · 4 years

Text

Soulmate AU Part 2

Part 1

BOY i really had to wrestle this into existence. And to be completely honest there.... might be a part 3 coming because there’s a lot more to get through before anyone involved here is in any way Okay.

also tbfh reading this you can tell i’m a touchstarved bastard huh

TW for: attempted suicide (or at least the aftermath thereof); hospital setting; grief; brief victim blaming (it’s unintentional and immediately shut down).

i have uhhh Thoughts about this au and if you have questions you can of course ask lmao

@whumpitywhumpwhump, @gottalovethemwriters, @burtlederp

----

It is pure miracle that Pax doesn’t get pulled over, especially because this is Vic’s car they very much did not ask permission to borrow. They swing it into the hospital parking garage, park very badly, and throw themselves out.

They have no real way of knowing that he’s even here, except that the marks on their wrists are warmer than they were. And this is the hospital nearest the address they were given. And if they aren’t actively going somewhere they’re gonna explode.

They get to the front desk before they realize they have no idea what name to ask for. And also they’re wearing a tank top and sweatpants with their hair tied up in a very messy topknot, and they think they must be visibly out of breath from sprinting up from the bottom level of the car park.

“Name?” the receptionist says, giving them a skeptical once over that they’re sure will really piss them off in about twelve hours when there’s room in their head for that kind of thing.

They shake their head, folding over with their hands on their knees to catch their breath, and before they can really breathe again, they sort of vaguely raise their wrist at her—even though it isn’t glowing yet and she can’t see it pulsing with heat—and mutters, “Soulmate—here for—soulmate.”

The receptionist raises her eyebrows, but she obediently clicks something on the desk computer. “You have their name?”

“No,” they say. “He’s here for—he—” They can’t say it out loud, even though it should be easy, they don’t even know him. “It’s, we’re a triad, the other one, the other guy’s already here.” Probably. Hopefully.

The receptionist frowns at them, then shrugs and types god-knows-what into her computer. Idiot confirms astral soulmate projection and doesn’t think to get their fucking numbers, presumably.

Then her frown deepens, and Pax’s heart drops into their stomach, and all they can see is oceans of blood on the floor of the tub.

“We’ve got a member of a triad here, with a note that the third might be coming. But it—looks like that patient’s still in surgery.” She looks up at Pax with sympathy that immediately makes them nauseous. “He won’t be seeing anyone right now.”

“The other one,” Pax croaks, blinking hard. This is the part where they roll their eyes and make a joke and tell her obviously they knew that where should they wait, except they don’t remember how. “Where can I—is he here? I want to see him.”

The woman’s giving them big pitying eyes now, which they don’t think has happened once in their adult life, and they hate it, they’ve never hated anything more, they want to be alone or to have someone punch them in the face or to not have seen blood all over their soulmate’s arms and shirt and lap. “He should be in the surgical waiting room, honey,” she says, and probably she would try and pat their hand like a grandma if there wasn’t a desk in the way. She points to her left. “Follow the blue signs to the end of the hall.”

They turn mechanically and start walking, not hearing whatever encouragement or condolences the receptionist tries to call after them.

----

Sol doesn’t even know if anyone else is in the waiting room with him because he can’t look at anything except his own wrists, where the rings are glowing fainter but still that same pretty pale blue.

It’s normal for the initial glow to fade after the first few hours, an orderly had told him, and it’s something he already knows, should already know, definitely needed to be reminded of. As long as the mark doesn’t gray out, as long as it’s still in color, he doesn’t need to panic.

But a big part of him wants to panic anyway, so he’s staring at his wrists and nothing else, watching the lines around them—still blue and still blue and still blue—pulse slowly. He tries to time his breath to match them. There’s no reason to think his soulmate is doing the same but it—feels good, feels right, feels like he can make the boy keep breathing if he tries hard enough, even though he knows that’s stupid.

His soulmate’s name is Chaucer Kenton Graves. He’s seventeen. He isn’t dead and Sol is going to keep it that way through force of will alone if he has to.

He’s staring and breathing and willing so hard he doesn’t even notice the growing warmth below his collarbone until the door of the waiting room slides open and he looks up and sees the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, standing there in the doorway staring at him looking absolutely gobsmacked.

They’re tall, wearing a rainbow-striped tank and sweats, their brown arms corded with wiry muscle, and their face is all cheekbones and smudged makeup, wide dark-hazel eyes taking Sol in with their pupils blown wide, and he’s seen them before of course but seeing them in person is something entirely different.

“You’re the sun,” the person says in an awed hushed voice, not moving from the doorway.

Sol swallows hard around a lump in his throat and realizes with mild horror that his eyes are wet. And then that his breath is speeding up and he can’t stop it.

“Fuck!” the beautiful person says, and they lurch forward to catch Sol before he tumbles forward out of the awful waiting room chair.

And now Sol is kind of on the floor but mostly in his soulmate’s lap, with his hands wrapped around their warm solid chest and grasping desperately at the back of their tank top while his face is buried in the front, in the crook between their shoulder and neck, sobbing and then wailing and then screaming tears and snot into their shirt and the soft warmth of their skin even though he has not yet said a word to them.

By the grace of god they gather him in immediately, strong arms around his shoulders and waist, squeezing almost at tight as he is, and cup the back of his head in their hand and mutter into his hair in a shaky voice, “Shit, fuck, Christ, I’ve got you, honey it’s okay I’ve got you.”

They sit there on the floor and let Sol hang off them like a baby monkey until he’s hiccupping into their shoulder instead of howling, scratching their dull nails up and down his back and breathing a little hard themself.

“I’m, uh.” They clear their throat, their voice still sounding a bit shaky. “I’m Pax, by the way.”

“Uh,” Sol says, and awkwardly unwraps himself from around his soulmate’s neck. They’re looking at him, still, with wide eyes, and he feels his face heat up immediately. “I’m—I’m Sol. Hi.”

“Have you seen him?” they say, keeping their hand on Sol’s shoulder, which is good because it means he won’t spin off into space, though the skin underneath feels hot and tingly in a way he doesn’t think has anything to do with magic.

Sol shakes his head numbly.

“You know his name?” Their eyes are like they were when Sol half-saw them through their bathroom mirror, blazing, almost too intense.

Sol nods, licking his lips to try and force feeling back into them, and croaks, “Graves. Chaucer Kenton.” Like he’s filling out a form. He shakes his head again like maybe that will get his brain working again, which it never has before.

“Like Senator Graves?” Pax says, frowning. “Did you see his family?”

Sol shakes his head again. His tongue and lips feel like they’re moving on their own without his permission so he’s relieved that what comes out is a semi coherent, “No, nobody was out there, they were gonna put him in the ambulance alone.” Then he grabs Pax’s tank again without realizing he’s going to. “They were gonna put him in alone.”

His soulmate is still looking at him, in a way nobody looks at him, and they wrap their hand around Sol’s where he’s grabbing their shirt and can’t make himself let go. “But you got there in time, right?”

Sol nods eagerly. “I saw him, and they let me in the ambulance and I, I couldn’t hold his hand because—” He can’t finish that, laughs hysterically, keeps babbling. “But he saw me, he knew I was there.”

“He wasn’t alone,” Pax says, nodding, like they know that’s important too. They still have one hand on Sol’s shoulder and the other wrapped around his wrist. And Sol’s hand is spread over their heart now, where he knows his mark on them must be, but if he thinks about that too hard he’s going to cry again. “That’s good. That’s good, you did good, we—we did good.”

Pax looks down at their hand, wrapped around Sol’s wrist. The blue lines on Sol’s wrists are still pulsing with light. Pax’s aren’t, but they’re the same shade of blue Sol’s been seeing there for as long as he can remember, and looking at them like that, side by side, almost makes him light-headed.

“Still blue,” Pax says, following his gaze, like they’re reassuring themself, and Sol nods, looking at his wrist and his soulmate’s right next to it, matching blue lines on different shades of brown skin. “There’s still three of us.”

“Still blue,” he repeats, closing his eyes, and he knows he loves Pax too because they let him close his eyes and lean forward till his forehead hits their shoulder, and they slide their hand back in his hair like they know that’s exactly what he needs. He grips his wrist in the opposite hand, and then he presses his pulse point against his shoulder, under his collarbone, where Pax’s slash-eye mark must be glowing under his work shirt. Both marks are warm now, and he can feel himself getting teary-eyed again. “Still blue,” he whispers into Pax’s shirt.

----

Pax hates the idea of destiny. They always have, ever since they were small they’ve had the urge to respond to “when you meet your soulmate it’s like nothing else in the world” with “don’t fucking tell me what to do.” They’ve always had—sort of complicated feelings about their own personal marks, something painful that digs in deeper every time they feel the people they’re supposed to love in pain and can’t do jack shit to stop it. Which is—which is almost every fucking day so by the time they’re an adult it’s dug in deep enough they can pretend it’s resentment, rejection of the very idea, and that’s much easier.

At the moment they hate soulmates even more, because when the nurse finally lets them into the recovery room and they see Chaucer Kenton Graves in his hospital bed they fall all the way fucking over again.

Sol cries out, because of course it’s best if all three of them are suffering, naturally, and drops to his knees next to him. He’s at least already seen the kid, so he’s apparently got the bandwidth to worry about Pax, who waves him away, covering their face with their other hand, because they need no one to look at them for the next five minutes.

They can see the blue glow from their wrist through their closed eyelids, but they don’t need it, it’s information they already know.

Chaucer Kenton Graves is seventeen and looks it, and he isn’t dead but not for lack of trying.

“He should be coming around in the next few minutes,” the nurse says. She seems to be studiously ignoring the fact that Pax is still on their knees on the floor trying to catch they’re breath, which means she is their new favorite person. They can see Sol hovering between them and the hospital bed, though mercifully only his legs and feet are visible from Pax’s current on-the-floor-with-their-head-bowed position. There’s blood on the knee of his dress pants. Pax didn’t see it before because the pants are black but now they can and—

“Oh, fuck,” they moan, and throw themselves to their feet so they can run into the little attached bathroom and collapse in front of the toilet.

This is so fucking stupid. They fucking—they fight people for a living, they’ve seen blood before—

Logic in no way keeps them from heaving the remains of their microwaved dinner into this hospital toilet. Go fucking figure.

They shrug the hesitant hand off their shoulder harsher than they need to, through force of habit more than anything else, but Sol doesn’t wince. He gives them a second of space and then slides his hand up their sweaty forehead to smooth back the three long spirals of pink hair that have slipped out of their haphazard bun. His hand is warm and steady.

It’s—it’s, uh—it breaks Pax’s fucking heart.

Pax lowers their head to rest it against the front of the toilet, which is a semi-public toilet and presumably gross as fuck but at least the porcelain is cold against their forehead. They squeeze their eyes closed and try very hard to remember how to breathe.

Sol’s hand comes to rest on the back of their head, and its warm weight makes their breath hitch on the way out.

“Where’s, uh,” they croak, without sitting up or opening their eyes. “Is the nurse—what did she—”

“She’s gone,” Sol says. His voice is—fucking, sorrowful in a way that makes Pax’s stomach hurt, but it’s steady, too. “She says they’ll have to check his, um, his cognitive functions when he wakes up, but we can, uh—we can have the room for now.”

“Oh, joy,” Pax says, and scrapes themself back up into an actual sitting position. They take a big deep breath before they open their eyes and look at Sol, who’s big brown eyes are bright and side but seem mostly dry. “Did you get to talk to him, in the—before?”

“Yeah,” Sol says softly, sitting back on his heels and hunching in on himself. He’s younger than Pax, too, though maybe not as young as the sewn-together boy in the hospital bed. “He, uh.” Sol clears his throat roughly, looking away. “He said he was sorry.”

Pax laughs once, bitterly. “Ha! He fucking should be,” they say hotly, and Sol looks back at them immediately, not even reproachful but upset; Pax wants to throw up again.

“Don’t,” Sol says, and his hand darts out and grabs the collar of Pax’s tank, and it isn’t even a threat, it’s like he needs something to hold onto; this is the worst day of Pax’s life. “Don’t you dare say that in front of him,” Sol says, and his voice is higher, like he’s just barely holding it together. “He wasn’t even—he didn’t even mean this,” Sol says, waving his hand at the bathroom and the recovery room beyond it. “He meant, fucking—‘sorry you’re stuck with me’. He probably thinks he was doing us a favor.”

Pax winces, feeling another sharp stab of nausea. “Fuck,” they mutter. Sol is looking at them with his big eyes wide—angry on the surface and almost pleading underneath. “I won’t, man,” Pax says quietly, taking hold of his wrist where he’s still holding their shirt. His hand is shaking. “I wasn’t gonna.” They stare at Sol—who’s also a kid, even if they can’t be more than a year or two younger than Pax, who’s holding it together than Pax feels like they are but just barely, and they’re about to reach for him when they catch a quiet gasp from the main room, right at the edge of their hearing. Sol blinks at them, wide-eyed, and they both scramble to their feet, using the sink and each other for support.

Chaucer Kenton Graves blinks owlishly at them, clearly still very anesthetized. But his eyes are open, and he’s breathing in little sighs, like a sleepy puppy, and—

And oh no, Pax thinks, sinking into a chair next to the bed and putting their hand on the boy’s shoulder because they literally can’t do anything else. Sol reaches for their other hand, and they let him, and Pax still hates destiny, hates it even more now.

But goddammit. If destiny gave them these idiots. They’ll burn it all down before they ever let destiny take them back.

#soulmate au #cafe extras #whump #original whump #hospital scene #attempted suicide #oc: sol #oc: pax #oc: kent #GOD these three are........ the gayest idiots there ARE #also poor fuckin kent everyone keeps calling him by his dumbass first name press f #anyway. kent's mental state is needless to say gonna be yk Wack so there might be a part 3 because There's A Lot To Unpack Here #suicide tw #listen. listen i just want someone to hold me and let me scream into their shirt if its not too much fuckin TROUBLE #hhhhhh idk if i even like this i kept trying to force plot to happen but sol and pax were like #'hmmm no i think we're going to gently hold each other instead. fuck you'#EDIT LEFT A GLARING TYPO AND THEN I FORGOT TO ADD A READMORE I'M SUCH A MESS

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