lilyflowerstories

[lilyflowerstories]

My Girl, Forever and Always | 2

Summary: The Avengers' knew everything about their captain. He didn't like to hide, not when he was the leader. But a pretty face from Steve's time before ice has them facing the only and biggest mystery of Steve.

Warnings for the Series: Hurt/comfort. Violence. Not Canon Compliant. Racism (not overt but still there)

Important Warnings for this Part: none.

Pairing: Steve x Reader, Steve Rogers x black!reader, 40s!Steve x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Previous Part | (series masterlist coming soon)

Steve couldn’t stop bouncing his leg up and down as he drove Shuri’s medical team from the airport back to the Tower. Just like the SHIELD doctors, he knew they were more than qualified to help you. He had the best team anyone could find but it didn’t settle the nerves at all. 

The medical unit didn’t try to comfort him either. It didn’t work with Bucky who knew them more than well enough. Why would it work with Steve? It was understandable so they didn’t mind the endless stream of questioning. While he didn’t feel perfect, Steve certainly felt better by the time they reached the tower and walked into the lab. Shuri was more than confident that you’d be awake in a few months due to already starting that process on your own. 

With the cat out of the bag, Steve finally went back to his actual room to pull out boxes from the back of his closet. Before Peggy had passed, she remembered that right after the war she had gone back to the apartment Steve, you, and Bucky had shared for years. Your old lives were packed up and carefully stored away by her.

She had never had the heart to give it all to the museums, especially anything about you and Steve considering the times weren’t exactly kind to your relationship in the first place. Peggy had never been happier about that decision when Steve — back when he was living in DC and working with SHIELD’s division there — took her to come see you. 

Steve came back to the lab with all the boxes in hand. Everyone noticed Bucky’s eyes light up when the first one was opened. It was a rare but pleasant sight to see. He chuckled as he held up his original copy of The Hobbit. Nat’s eyes nearly popped out of her skull. 

“Is that a signed copy?” 

“Yep. Best Christmas present ever. She left to go to some diplomatic event with her parents. Next thing I know, Y/N is back home and ripping my old copy out of my hand before replacing it with this one.” 

Bucky went back to the inside of the cover to show off the letter written to him as well. He went back to digging through the boxes with Steve, telling little stories about you three’s past life whenever someone asked. Everyone in the lab couldn’t stop smiling or laughing at what they heard. And it wasn’t lost on them how even Steve seemed more full of life. 

“Her hair looks nice,” Sam commented as he set down the picture Steve gave him on your new nightstand. “You’ve done a great job.” 

Bucky beamed as he found another picture in the album to show everyone. It was of you in between Steve’s legs while he sat on the edge of the couch in your parents’ living room. You were holding a small pot of hair grease up. Steve’s face was scrunched up in intense concentration as he parted your hair with a rattail comb. 

Everyone looked at the picture in the man’s hand, cooing at the sight. Steve never really gravitated to reminiscing over old memories of himself from before the serum but even he stared with a fondness at the photo in his friend’s hand. Any memory of you and him together would always garner Steve’s attention. 

He pointed at the picture. “She said I wasn’t allowed to ask her on a date until I learned a few things.” 

Bucky chuckled, recounting the list. “How to do her hair, make a nice bouquet, quick repairs in clothes, how to make her favorite sick soup, and what to do when that time of month came.” 

“She had you wrapped around her finger, didn’t she, Rogers?” Nat asked, liking you already. 

“Oh, absolutely. And I loved every minute of it.” 

Shuri clapped Steve on the back. “Well, she’s in good hands, Captain. We’ll have her back to wrapping you around her finger very soon.”

Whenever they could, Bucky and Steve were in the lab. They were careful not to get in anyone’s way but they needed to be near you. The rest of the team would come by as well in different intervals. Team dinners were now taken in the lab and movie nights became story time with Steve and Bucky. 

Okoye sighed as she handed back a necklace Steve bought you for your anniversary. “I have to ask how did you two come about?” 

No one would say it but it was the elephant in the room for the rest of the team. They couldn’t be blamed. You and Steve weren’t exactly a welcomed couple during your time.

“She was the only one who really gave me the time of day.” Steve shrugged. “Being small and skinny or being sickly was one thing. I watched plenty of blokes get dates. But being all of the above? No one wanted their boyfriend to drop dead before their second date.” 

Bucky clapped him on the back. “He’s not giving himself enough credit or Y/N either. She liked him first.” 

“What?” Steve turned, shocked at both the revelation and the fact that Buck kept it a secret for all these years. 

“Why do you think I suddenly started encouraging you to make a move? She came to me one day and started wondering if there was any possibility of you seeing her as more than a friend. You’re welcome, punk.” 

Clint cleared his throat. “That’s really sweet but I think Okoye meant… well, you know.” 

No one in the lab was certain of how to breach the subject to their two soldiers out of time. They stuttered and stumbled over trying to explain exactly what they meant. The moments where Bucky and Steve revealed their true time were few and far between but it still happened. Everyone realized that they had already come to terms with the racism and segregation of their time that it wasn’t even a question for them. They just expected the others to understand. 

“They mean because I’m black, you’re white, and we lived through segregation. Geez, boys, keep up. You know these youngins’ aren’t used to what we’ve been through. Try to understand them.” 

Steve’s head whipped around as if it was on a swivel. You slowly sat up from the hospital bed, shielding your eyes from the bright lights of the lab. Like a rocket, Steve shot out of his chair and to the side of your bed.

You barely had time to open your eyes and give him a smile before he was hugging you tightly. The sound of your laughter as he peppered you in kisses was music to Steve’s ears. It spurred him on to continue littering all of your skin in as many kisses as possible. 

“God, I’ve missed you so much.” 

You tilted your head. “Where’s my ring, Rogers? You keep telling everyone I’m your wife but I’ve got no jewelry to show for it.” 

“Told you so,” Bucky said with a chuckle before hugging you. “Happy to see you, doll.” 

“I’ve missed both of you. It’s nice to be back.” You looked down when you felt Steve lift up your hand, finding an engagement ring now on your finger to match the engagement band on his. “How long have you been carrying this around?” 

“For a while. The Red Skull mission was supposed to be the last one before they were granting me a short leave. It was real romantic. Peggy had a whole little set up on base prepared. I’d get down on one knee, you’d say yes, we’d get a few months to ourselves. We’d split our time between Wakanda and England because I can still work from out of the UK and it’s safer for you than coming back here because they were going to announce our marriage. I couldn’t get out of that one. Trust me, I fought like hell for it and they wouldn’t budge.” 

You didn’t even get a chance to respond before you and Steve broke out in laughter at the swoons coming from everyone else in the lab. Everyone introduced themselves and put names to the voices you had been hearing for so long while you finished getting checked over by the scientists and doctors. They could have left. Honestly, they probably should have let you and Steve — and maybe even Bucky — catch up alone but everyone was way too intrigued about your life with your two super soldiers to let you go. 

A laugh escaped you as the small horde trailed dutifully behind you and Steve all the way up to the common area. Despite being physically in your late 20s, you did kind of feel like the grandparents you were supposed to be when everyone gathered for late night story time. A thought ran through you before you could start to speak. 

“How long was I in ice?” 

Steve wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulder. “They moved you into a cryo chamber for two years before keeping you in a hospital room.” 

“Does this mean I’m no longer older than you?” 

Your fiancé’s face straight-lined. “It was by a few months!” 

“Those few months were precious to me. Ugh, I’m your younger wife now. I’m about to marry such an old man.” 

“Honey, reall—” 

“You’re a centurion, I’m still in my nineties.” 

Steve rolled his eyes but kissed your temple as the final statement to his argument. As the team settled in with their dinners and snacks for their new favorite love story, they noted how their captain couldn’t keep his hands off of you. He had to be holding you or kissing you in some capacity. You and Steve weren’t quite sure where to start. Everyone voted on from the very beginning: 

Your father was a War Dog of Wakanda. He was used to traveling a lot for work and settling down multiple times outside of his home country. That didn’t change even after he met your mother. In fact, it got worse. A retired Dora Milaje turned diplomat had all the time in the world to travel. Being so close to the royal family meant strings were always pulled for them.

Even before they got married, both of them were always assigned to the same country and city for work. Parental leave once your mother fell pregnant saw them both temporarily retired until you were about to start kindergarten. 

You absolutely hated America. All you wanted was to be back in Wakanda. Despite being so young, you were made all too aware of the racism this new country had to bring. New York City was supposedly better than these other cities. If that was true then you never wanted to travel anywhere else in the country. Even if you explored every inch of New York before summer was over, you still wouldn’t travel past the city’s borders. Summer wasn’t the best but fall was downright a nightmare. 

With your parents’ status and the mission they had to be on, you didn’t get to go to the majority black schools in the city. They were trailing a white arms dealer trying to get his hands on vibranium. His niece was around your age so you had to go to her school. It was already a rocky start before the first day.

Some of the teachers wanted nothing to do with you, making their racism known. The others were split even further into a group that simply tolerated you versus a group that actually liked you. Naturally, your parents went with the school’s recommendation of Ms. Fields. A woman who actually taught equality in her classroom, not caring if it angered some parents. 

Everyone’s eyes were on you as you were escorted through the hall by a white American policeman and a Wakandan bodyguard, a range of emotions on their faces. They had a few black students aside from you but in various grades and not many. Your mother said to walk tall because Dora Milaje always walked tall but you were still a young girl so you hid between the two men with you as best as you could.

Ms. Fields was a warm and welcoming woman. She escorted you further into the room, encouraging you to sit wherever you wanted while she talked to the two men about your school schedule and where to expect them. You took your chair to the table that seemed to judge you the least. Your table just watched for a moment as you neatly organized your school supplies in the little supply box that now had your name written on the label taped to it. You were intensely focused on your task, trying to ignore the two sets of blue eyes on you. 

“I can leave if you want,” you muttered, not wanting any problems. 

Both boys suddenly remembered their manners as they shook their heads before apologizing. 

“I’m Steve.” 

“I’m Bucky.” 

Your eyebrows went up to your hairline. “Buck-ee?” 

He just laughed. “It’s a nickname.” 

You looked over at his supply box where the name “James Bucky Barnes” was written in his messy handwriting. What a strange name to choose when James was right there. You didn’t tell him that though as you shook both boys’ hands. They let you finish your organization work as you informed the teacher of what you learned. Her eyes widened in slight shock. 

“If you know all that then this isn’t the correct class for you. I won’t pretend to understand Wakanda’s curriculum but we consider that fifth grade material.” 

“I would like to be with people my own age, please.” 

Ms. Fields confirmed with you once more that you would prefer to stay in this grade level before starting her lesson. While school overall wasn’t the best, Ms. Fields’ classroom was a bright spot for you. You quickly became good friends with Steve and Bucky. Close enough that, when summer hit, you bothered to introduce them to your parents. Both boys had told their parents all about you and you talked your parents’ ears off about them, but none of you had crossed the threshold of introductions. Even as young kids, you were vaguely aware of social stigmas. 

It went well. A bit too well by your parents’ standards when they started noticing that once high school hit, you talked a bit too much about Steve and a bit too little about Bucky when recounting how your day went. You laughed as your father mentioned it when he dropped off your afternoon snack for after your swimming lessons. Joining a team was not an option but you liked swimming enough, and cheerleading for basketball wasn’t available until later on in the school year, so you did lessons anyway. 

“Dad, Steve is my friend just as much as Bucky. We can talk about this later but I have to go before Miss Mary-Ellen has my head because I’m late.” You jogged back to the car not even a second later. “Oh, did you pack thre—” 

“Three sets of everything for you, James, and Steven? Yes.” 

You kissed his cheek before running to the natatorium, laughing as you heard him complain that you sounded too much like these American kids. Only an hour or so later, Steve and Bucky were heading into the building after they didn’t see you waiting outside for them.

The natatorium was right across from the school so after Bucky’s football practice and Steve’s art classes that he took with the art teacher for free in exchange for cleaning the classroom, they would come pick you up. The three of you would eat whatever your parents had fixed before taking long walks until it was time to do homework and go home. But you weren’t there and after only ten minutes, the boys were sick of the heat. 

Bucky could laugh as he watched his friend’s eyes pop out of his skull when you got out of the pool after noticing them. Because you always met them outside, you were normally already dressed and trying to dry your hair. Steve had never seen you in your swimsuit before. He couldn’t help but to look at your legs, a deep blush spreading over his face at the extra bits of skin your skirts and pants always covered up. He only came back to reality after you dipped into the back locker rooms to change and Bucky elbowed him in the ribs. 

“Now’s as good a time as ever, punk.” 

“Good a time as ever for what?” you asked, hooking your arms with both of them and making Bucky carry your bag. 

Your eyes squinted when the brunet refused to answer your question. All of your obnoxious sighs and poking at Steve wouldn’t get either of them to budge. You pulled away for a moment, turning to face them. 

“Fine. Don’t tell me for now. But what if I promise to pay for milkshakes?” 

“Deal,” Bucky cut in before Steve could continue to drive a hard bargain. 

As he opened the door to the diner, Steve gave Bucky the dirtiest look behind your back. The other boy simply winked and followed you to a booth in the back. Taking in several breaths, Steve smoothed out any wrinkles in his shirt and headed to the table you and Bucky had sat down at.

✭

| part 3 coming |

THIS FIC TAGLIST:

@23victoria @ilyeuphoric

[lilyflowerstories]

♡ = fluff, ♥ = smut/18+, ☁ = angst, ✿ = hurt/comfort

My Girl, Forever and Always Series ♡ (ongoing)

[lilyflowerstories]

♡ = fluff, ♥ = smut/18+, ☁ = angst, ✿ = hurt/comfortSteve Rogers

[lilyflowerstories]

My Girl, Forever and Always | 1

Summary: The Avengers' knew everything about their captain. He didn't like to hide, not when he was the leader. But a pretty face from Steve's time before ice has them facing the only and biggest mystery of Steve.

Warnings for the Series: Hurt/comfort. Violence. Not Canon Compliant. Racism (not overt but still there)

Important Warnings for this Part: none.

Pairing: Steve x Reader, Steve Rogers x black!reader, 40s!Steve x Reader

Word Count: 3.0k

A/N: the title is pending. I had a strong desire to write for Marvel again. Idek dude. But enjoy!

A/N 2: Pet Soldier is being posted and updated on my main blog and I didn't want to detract from that fic so Steve's new fic will be living here!

(Series Masterlist coming soon)

With the Accords settled peacefully and all of the main Avengers right where they belonged in Stark Tower now renamed Avengers Tower, life was just right for the team. Aside from end-of-the-world disasters, they had essentially become a HYDRA and enhanced villains fighting unit. The Avengers weren’t complaining though. SHIELD agents and the lower level Avengers could handle everybody else. 

“What movie are we thinking about tomorrow?” Nat asked as they exited the quinjet. 

“T’Challa and his family are coming for a visit, brunch would probably be a better option,” Bucky said, taking everyone’s weapons from them for cleaning. 

The team debated back and forth on what would be the best option for a large group of people this weekend. Ultimately, Bucky’s idea of brunch was the winner. It was different for them. The Avengers were very used to team dinner but it turned out that cooking for brunch was more difficult than they thought. 

“Ah, ah, ah.” Nakia came up behind Shuri and Peter, plucking the mimosa glasses out of their hands. 

“We’re eighteen!” They both protested. 

“And the Americans have decided the legal age is twenty-one. Have orange juice.” She scowled when T’Challa cheekily poured some whiskey into their coffee mugs, not even trying to hide it. 

“Spiderling,” Steve called out with a smile at the scene in front of him. “Keep stirring this for me before Wanda has my head because it burnt.” 

“I absolutely will.” 

He held up his hands in surrender. “I believe you, Wands. Stir it a couple of times per minute, Pete. I’ll be back.” 

Natasha raised an eyebrow as she watched Steve walk away. He wasn’t wearing any shoes past house slippers. He was dressed somewhat nicely but still in house clothes. And he didn’t have a bag or wallet on him, at all. Yet, the elevator arrow indicated he was going down instead of up to the floor where his room is. This wasn’t the first or even the fifth time she had caught him in a situation similar to this. Nat set down her cup of coffee. 

“Does anyone know where the hell Rogers goes every Saturday?” 

The entire team stopped their individual conversations to look from the elevator to the redhead at the counter. It was like a fire had been stoked under all of them as each person confirmed that they had no clue where Steve was going. If there was one person that was an open book and never a mystery, it was their captain. And yet, here was a mystery staring them dead in the face. 

“Is he dating?” Clint asked. 

Nat shook her head. “Unless it’s been a while, I hope not. Rogers left in pajamas and house slippers. I wouldn’t be impressed if my date showed up like that.” 

Bucky snorted as he put the creamer back in the fridge. “If he was dating, I would know.” 

“Good point… But what if?” 

“Maybe it’s a secret family like yours, Barton.” Shuri pointed to the picture of Clint’s family that he hung up in the living room gallery area now that everyone knew the truth. 

“Why am I always the one pointed to for a secret family? T’Challa had a whole hidden country. We didn’t even know Sam had nephews until last year.” 

Sam shook his head. “I wasn’t hiding anyone. My sister lives more than a few states away.” 

Bucky nodded. “He’s right, totally different scenario. But speaking of Wilson…” 

“Stop flirting with my sister.” 

“Speaking of Wilson,” Bucky continued, pointedly ignoring his friend. “You should go follow him. You’re the only person that doesn’t automatically trigger Steve’s little suspicious senses.” 

The entire team nodded and vocalized their agreements. They had all met Steve as co-workers that he was too tuned into them. Anytime they showed up unexpectedly, he automatically questioned if there was a surprise mission. And while he didn’t do that with Bucky, Steve was just always aware of his friend’s movement. He was hardwired to always find and take care of him. But Sam was a 21st century friend. 

Steve didn’t need to look out for him. Out of anything, it was the other way around. The city and time period were Sam’s domain and he always seemed to know somebody no matter where they went. The team assured Sam that if anyone could follow Steve with no problem, it would be him. 

He might have put up a fuss but Sam was just as nosey as the rest of them about where Steve was going all the time. He chuckled as he headed towards the elevator. The team was already making bets about what was going to be discovered. 

“FRIDAY, can you take me to the last floor Steve stopped on. And let’s not tell him about this one.” 

“Certainly.” 

Sam rocked slightly when the elevator jolted on its home. He watched the numbers go by, expecting to land on the ground floor or the garage levels like most of the team predicted. His eyebrow raised when the elevator suddenly stopped on the fifth floor. What was Steve doing in the hospital wing? He seemed just fine coming off the quinjet yesterday. More than fine actually. He was the only one aside from Thor who came out of the fight without a single scratch on him. 

Carefully, he stepped out of the elevator and took a look at the reception sign-in sheet. Amongst the many names of spouses of various agents, Sam spotted ‘Steven Rogers’ written neatly at both the top and bottom of the list of sign-ins. Curiosity got the best of him. Flipping through the small stack of sign-in sheets in the binder, he spotted Steve’s name. It was written near the top and bottom of every single paper. Like clockwork. And in every column asking the reason for sign-in two words were written: Visiting wife. 

Sam almost ran before calming down once he spotted Steve out of the corner of his eye. The man was carrying a trash bag in one hand and what looked to be a notepad in the other. The blonde smiled as he got closer. 

“Hey, what are you doing here? Is everything alright upstairs?” 

“Everything’s fine. I’m supposed to be visiting one of my veterans this weekend and her grandkids have taken to playing doctor. They asked me to get the good gauze from our med bay. The real stuff apparently. I’m seeing if Cho will let me swipe some.” 

Steve chuckled. “Just tell her you need it cause one of you idiots got hurt sparring again.” 

“Honestly, might just get it from Stark and Banner’s lab. Bruce is a lot less annoying about inventory. Need any help?” 

“Yeah, thanks. I have to run to the store real quick. Do you mind saving my brunch. Promise I’ll be back before anyone can accuse me of skipping team bonding.” 

“Eh, it’s not even done yet,” Sam said, leading the way back to the elevators. 

“Really?” 

“They’re going back and forth over pancakes or french toast casserole.” 

“My vote is for pancakes.” 

“I’ll be sure to mark it.” 

Sam waited for Steve to leave the elevator, actually on the ground floor this time, before going back up. The elevator almost felt like it wasn’t going fast enough. Sam had all the details he needed to spill before their captain came back. 

“Hey, Nat, are you sure he was in pajamas?” Sam asked as he dropped the trash bag down the shute that led to the dumpsters. 

“Absolutely positive, why?” 

“Because he was fully dressed when I spotted him.” 

“Seriously.” 

Sam nodded. “Jeans, hat, hoodie, tennis shoes. No pajamas anywhere. Oh, and I found him in the hospital wing.” 

“Capsicle needed the hospital?” Tony asked. “Since when?” 

“He wasn’t there for him. You won’t believe what was written on the sign-in sheet. He was visiting his wife.” 

“WIFE?!” 

They nearly choked on their food. Sam told them in way too much detail how his last ten minutes had gone, including how he was positive the notepad in Steve’s hand was a shopping list. The entire team practically ran when FRIDAY informed them that Steve had returned. It was hard to keep quiet and honestly they didn’t care. Now that they knew where he was, they were willing to strongarm their captain if they had to.

They kept following him past the standard area of the medical bay. To be expected. They rarely came to this area if they got hurt. However, the team was confused when he kept walking past the private Avengers area of the hospital floors. Tony had assumed it was all staffing offices and break rooms once they got past the Avengers area. The hospital never had interesting cctv footage that it never occurred to him to check it out, leaving it for the security guards and FRIDAY to handle. 

This new area was even nicer than the Avengers unit. There were fewer rooms and nearly every single one of them was empty aside from the few nurses or doctors taking naps. Tony could have assumed they were in fact in the staff area but each space they passed has medical equipment in them. 

“Maybe it’s an overflow area,” Vision murmured. 

“But the Avengers unit and the standard area aren’t even at half capacity.” 

Okoye stopped everyone from rounding the corner until Steve had entered whatever room he was looking for. 

Carefully, they crept closer. They made sure to angle their bodies so they could still see inside but without being spotted. Steve pulled back the curtain on the window, tying them up so the sun could shine in after setting down all his shopping bags. It was a nice day outside so he let the fresh air in as well. The team spotted a bed in the corner. The sheets weren’t redone yet. Did Steve sleep down here?

They watched their captain fold up the pajamas Nat spotted him in and drop them into a dresser drawer before making the bed and refluffing the decorative pillows on the small couch in the room. There was no other conclusion they could make. Clearly, he stayed here instead of in his room like they all thought. Steve came bounding back over to the hospital bed where the team noticed a woman was laying. 

“Let’s check for sores, love.” 

Steve carefully lifted you up, mindful of the machinery attached to you. He hummed in satisfaction at the lack of any bed sores. He knew the doctors were checking in on you and he trusted the SHIELD nurses more than anything but he was your primary carer so he had to be sure. With practiced ease, Steve lifted you and held you close to his body in one hand while laying thick towels over your bed with the other.

He had learned from the head nurse how to give you a proper sponge bath. Even though he wasn’t sure if you could hear him, Steve constantly walked you through the entire process as he covered your body with a warmed towel so you wouldn’t be cold. 

He carefully washed one bit of your body at a time. Steve was used to bathing your naked torso underneath the covering that he was sure he could do it in the dark if needed. You were redressed in a new outfit. 

“I bought this from a boutique that opened a couple months ago. It’s a lot different from the dress you wore last week. I know I don’t put them on you but I added another pair to your jean collection. Bell bottoms. I don’t know if you’ll like any of them, doll, but the cashiers have been really nice in helping me out. They all think you’re beautiful by the way.

"And they hope you get better soon. If you hate it all, they’ve been letting me keep the receipts under special circumstances. We can go back and switch everything out for stuff you do like, even if it’s from years back.” 

Steve removed the warm towel covering once you were fully dressed in a soft sweater the team recognized as his and a white dress that must have been the new item he bought. 

“I’m going to do your hair now, okay?” 

No matter how many times he’s done it, Steve was always nervous to wash your hair. The nurses said over the years that you were managing to hold your head up somewhat on your own but it never really eased his nerves. There was only so much strength a coma patient could have. He was always worried about your head rolling too far back and you accidentally drowning in the water basin before he noticed. 

“Your hair is getting pretty long now,” Steve commented, taking down the cornrows he had done last week. “I’ve trimmed it a few times but I don’t want to cut it until you wake up. Just in case you like it. I told you how Sam’s nephews showed me TikTok last month, right? Well, a cute hairstyle popped up and I think you’ll like it. I couldn’t figure it out myself but there’s a braiding shop two streets over. I think I can do a pretty good recreation if I do say so myself. I have no missions next week so if this doesn’t last long then we can redo it, no problem. I just thought you’d like to not have your headscarf on all the damn time.” 

Outside, a few nurses walked by, stopping at the window with all the Avengers. The team looked at the new group that had gathered. 

“Isn’t it sweet?” one of them asked the Avengers. “Captain Rogers hasn’t missed a single week if he can help it. I don’t think anyone else has even touched her hair.” 

“I wish I had a man that dedicated,” another muttered before all the nurses giggled and continued to wherever they were originally headed. 

Steve checked his watch. “I’ve got to go soon, love. Team breakfast. But I’ll be back tonight. Dr. Cho is coming by to check on your vitals. She said we made progress the other day. You were mumbling something. Think you’ll wake up this year? Maybe?” 

The team couldn’t quite make out Steve’s tone. He didn’t just sound hopeful or sad but exhausted. Exactly how long had you been in a coma? And when did he even get in a relationship, let alone have a whole wife? 

“I can’t believe he found her. That’s not possible,” Bucky whispered, steel-blue eyes never leaving the body in the hospital bed. 

Everyone turned to look at him. 

“Do you know her?” Nat asked, wondering if maybe you were another HYDRA captive. 

Bucky nodded. “Y/N L/N.” 

“L/N?” T’Challa and Okoye asked. That name rang a bell. 

“Yes. Daughter of Wakandan diplomats, wicked good nurse despite only getting war training… Steve’s and my best friend since grade school.” 

“Grade school?” Clint’s jaw dropped. “But that means sh—” 

“She’s from our time? Yeah. But she’s not a super soldier. At least not when I last saw her.” 

Before anyone could stop them, Nakia, T’Challa, Okoye, and Shuri ran into the room to get a closer look at you. Steve was startled, nearly dropping the now empty water basin as he was asked a thousand questions per minute. Despite the entire team pouring into the room with apologetic looks at being caught, Steve was only focused on one person. 

“I know I should’ve told you sooner, Bucky.” 

“She’s my friend too, Steve.” 

“I wanted her to wake up first. There’s still a chance they have to pull the plug. I didn’t want you to go through that heartbreak again. Not after everything else that’s happened.” 

“That’s my decision to make.” 

“I know. I’m sorry, really.” 

Bucky shook his head, finally entering the room. He reached for your hand, caressing it gently. Everyone noticed how he immediately reached for you with his metal arm. Even with the new vibranium one, he was careful around people. But Bucky automatically went to you with it.   

“I’m not happy you did it but I understand. How is she even here?” 

Steve hesitated. “We, uh, we both went into the ice.” 

Bucky squeezed your hand tightly, apologizing even though you couldn’t respond. “What?” 

“It’s a long story.” 

“Great,” Nakia interrupted. “You can explain this long story once she’s moved.” 

“Moved?” 

Shuri reached for the clipboard by your bed with all of Dr. Cho’s notes, sighing. “Nakia, wait. She’s too fragile to take back to Wakanda. Steve! Why did you not tell us sooner? We could have taken her home!” 

“She’s one of us. Did you not think we would have wanted to know?” Okoye argued. 

Steve scratched the back of his head. “I… forgot about that.” 

“Forgot?” 

“Well, I’ve been doing this routine since I was thawed out. A lot has happened and by the time we met you guys, I sort of forgot.” 

Shuri pinched the bridge of her nose. “At least we know now. Can you move her to the lab? I think we can still help her. We just have to improvise.” 

“I can do that,” Steve said, nodding. “Buck, will you take all the shit she’s hooked up to.” 

“On it.” 

Everyone stayed out of their way, letting the two super soldiers get on the elevator alone so nothing connected to you got tangled up. Shuri had already called her best scientists and doctors by the time they made it to Tony and Bruce’s lab. Steve nodded, gratefully, when she informed him that the team would be there tomorrow. 

“Have you really been sleeping down there the entire time?” Tony asked as he helped clear out part of the lab so there was proper space for everyone to work. 

“I couldn’t let my wife be alone all this time.” 

Bucky snorted. “She know you two are married? I don’t see a ring yet, Stevie. She’ll chew you out for saying that.” 

“So, it’s fine when she calls me her husband but I can’t do the same?” 

“Well, Y/N’s always been the charmer, not you.” 

“Whatever.”

✭

| part 2 |

[lilyflowerstories]

Baldur's Gate: Balance of Shadows and Light

Pairings: eventual Astarion x Tav, eventual Halsin x Tav, eventual Halsin x Astarion

| Current Episode: From One Crypt to Another |

Warnings for the series: canon typical violence, angst, smut

Word Count: 6.9k

Synopsis: 15 years ago you fell through the veil. A little less than 15 years later, Sirius followed. He expected death. No one returned from the veil so that was the only logical conclusion. What he didn't expect was to meet you again.

A/N: For a Baldur's Gate TV show, Dark Urge is just the most natural/perfect protagonist but it would be a very lackluster show if only they were focused on. So, I watched/played every Origin's run in order to include their backstories and scenes where appropriate. It's not quite an ensemble show since I feel like Durge is prominently more of a protagonist than the others but it would be pretty close to one. Also I attempted to use as much dialogue from the game as possible. Obviously some things only work in the game setting + other things had to be added for flow but your girl did try.

Welcome to Season 1 aka all of Act 1...

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A large and grotesque mindflayer floats through the ship instead of walking. There is no meandering or deviating from the path it is on. It knows exactly where it is going. The nursery. Spindly fingers reach into the large bowl in the middle of the room, pulling a tadpole from the collective of them that swam about the brine pool. It holds the small thing with great care as it walks over to the pod on its right side. 

The mindflayer observes the captured humanoid inside for a moment. The pointed ears of an elf, long curly hair still ripe with color that suggested you are rather young as far as elves go, no tattoos anywhere on your brown skin. Most unusual. The clothes they had collected from your body and placed in a holding trunk suggested you were a druid. Most druids that reached your age should have one — or a few — tattoos by now. No matter. In a few weeks, you will once again dawn your druid clothes in ceremony before a newborn mindflayer bursts from your body, destroying everything that was once you. The tattoos are truly insignificant. 

With a single pass of its hand, the creature opens the pod in front of it. You hazily begin to stir, eyes still half shut. The mindflayer has you by the jaw, holding you still before you can even register that you should fight back. You watch in fear as the tadpole crawls up the creature’s hand. There’s nothing you can do, no way to turn your head, as the tadpole wriggles behind your eye and buries itself deep in your brain. The pod shuts again and your world fades to black. 

The mindflayer returns to commanding the ship. The creepy and organic looking blinds open to reveal the world down below. It can hear the bells tolling and screams of people running but that doesn’t bother the creature one bit. As the ship looms above and practically crawls across the sky, its large half-organic half-mechanic tentacles reach out and touch whoever it can. More and more pods on the ship fill up with bodies ready to become new mindflayers. Humans, elves, tieflings, gith, halfings, gnomes, dwarves, the like. All will be given the chance to become mindflayer. 

People below try to run and hide. But, while some succeed in avoiding the tentacles’ gaze, others are caught no matter what. And even then, some people die simply from the tops of their buildings crumbling them as the ship’s belly scrapes them while it passes by. 

Behind the ship a portal opens, followed by two more. Githyanki on the backs of red dragons come rushing out of them. The mindflayer turns its head ever so slightly, the ship speeding up as it does. People are no longer being grabbed by the dozens but by small handfuls as the ship’s new goal becomes escaping the four dragons biting and blowing fire at it. It fights back when it can, attempting to smack either the dragons or the githyanki out of the sky but fleeing is the main goal or it will lose all of its tentacles to the dragons’ jaws. 

In a flash, the ship teleports to a new realm full of snow covered mountains and jagged cliffs. It isn’t enough to escape the dragons whose portals appear only seconds later. They manage to corner the ship into having to fly through a narrow passage, banging it up and blowing holes in the side of it where the cover is more organic than metal. The ship bumps against the cliffs, puncturing its side. Inside the nursery, a few pods pop open from the impact. Most of the bodies die as they hit the floor or are flung against the sides into metal shelving. But a single pod pops open without ejecting its occupant. 

A githyanki woman struggles against her binds, working her hardest to pull herself out, spurred on at the sight of her people’s red dragons burning the nursery before the ship teleports again. This time the ship doesn’t go somewhere cold but to the first layer of the Hells — Avernus. A place where the dragons will fight to fight imps and devils alike to reach their target. Whether they die or are just kept busy is no matter to the mindflayer. It just needs to be rid of them so it can land somewhere safely and repair the damage. 

The ship rocks again, popping open your pod this time and practically flinging you out of it. You land against the cold floor with a thud. You take several deep breaths as you look around and try to assess your surroundings, covering your naked body up as best as you can. A chest next to the pod you just came from catches your eye. Scrambling before your captors come back, you fling open the chest, grateful to find some stuff in it. There’s no time to properly dress back in your druid clothes but you pull on your underwear and sandals. Your feet make small pitters against the floor with each quick but quiet step you make collecting things from the various chests in the room and shoving them into your pack. Whatever you were doing before being abducted was a blessing now because a couple of daggers sit in one of the pockets. A sword or an axe would have been preferred — maybe even a crossbow so you could keep a good distance — but daggers will do for now. 

Your head turns from side to side, trying to find a door. A grimace makes itself home on your face when you finally spot the only thing that looks like it could be an opening. Shaking out, you make your way to the sphincter-looking door. Part of you regrets that it opens the moment you get close enough, the other part is grateful for an exit. 

The new room you find yourself in is nothing like the nursery. Not only are there not as many pods, but the walls are missing as if something tore through it. Your feet move without you thinking, running straight towards the outside light. Before you make it too far, a presence jumps off from the ledge high above and lands in front of you. Despite the fact that she is only in the tunic she found in some poor soul’s chest next to their pod, the githyanki woman is no less terrifying when she has a sword pointed at your neck. 

“Abomination. This is your end.” 

Your hands fly up in surrender. But, before you can explain yourself, both you and the githyanki are nearly doubled over as your heads throb and visions rush past you. The life before the nautiloid might have been a mystery to you but you know these memories are not yours. That much is confirmed as the githyanki’s form slowly makes itself known amongst the last few memories you’re given before the world returns to normal. 

“What was that?” the gith mutters more to herself than to you. She looks up at you as she rises once again to her full height. “Tsk’va. You are no thrall. Oh, Vlaakith blesses me this day! We might survive this yet. Listen to me. We need to take control of this ship. First we exterminate the imps, then we conquer the helm.” 

Whether it was a good plan or not, you aren’t given the choice. The githyanki is already running towards the group of imps chowing down on someone’s body. Either you follow your only chance of survival or you perish by imp, devil, or dragon swarming the ship. So you follow. The imps are not difficult but they swarm, seemingly drawn to the smell of death that accumulates as their peers are struck down. You and the gith are covered in blood by the time you make it to the second floor. There are more of those weird doors on this floor than the last. 

“I’ll check all the ones on the left, you take the right. Whoever finds the right one just yell.” 

With a single nod, you both are off. Pounding and a muffled shout garner brings you to a halt before you can check the first door. Your head turns ever so slightly to the pod next to you. There isn’t a mindflayer newborn inside or some unresponsive person but a woman very much alert and alive. 

“Help! Get me out of this damn thing!” Her fists pound against the glass. 

A hand roughly grabs your arm and tries to yank you back. “What are you doing? We don’t have ti—” 

“Help!” the woman calls again, voice stronger than before. 

The githyanki looks over, finally understanding why you had suddenly halted your search for the helm.  She shook her head adamantly. 

“We have no time for stragglers.” 

“We can’t leave her,” you mutter to your new companion before turning back to the woman. “I’ll look around. There must be some way to open that.” 

“This ship is crashing. Do you intend to die for a stranger?” 

The trapped woman stops panicking long enough to try and be helpful. “There’s a contraption next to the pod. I remember them doing something to it when they sealed me in.” 

You nod, racing over to the strange looking device. The gith standing behind you peers over your shoulder before hissing under her breath. 

“This ghaik machinery isn’t well known to me.” 

She hits it once but nothing indicates the machine has even stirred. You tilt your head analyzing it for a minute before something in your brain starts to squirm. The console seems to be purring almost, waiting for whatever command you want to give it. Hesitantly, you place your hand in the center of the large machine. Lights appear and a dull hum resonates in your mind. 

“Open,” you murmur. 

A distinct click reaches your ears. The captive woman comes tumbling out of her now open pod, breathing heavily as she collects herself. She accepts your outstretched hand and pulls herself to her feet. You reach into your pack, grabbing the first set of clothes you can find and hand them to her.

“Thank you.” She rushes to put the garments on. “I thought that damn thing was going to be my coffin. I’m Sh—” 

Like before with the gith, you find yourself nearly doubled over. But this time someone else’s memories don’t appear to you. Plain thoughts do. The captive woman in front of you is thankful for the rescue but wary of your new companion. You hear a grunt next to you, realizing that your parasite wasn’t the only one to make the unexpected connection. The woman doesn’t back down. Instead, she squares back her shoulders and eyes your companion. 

“You keep dangerous company.” 

All you can do is shrug. “Dangerous company’s what you need in a fight.” 

“Fair point. I’m Shadowheart by the way.” 

“Lae’zel,” the githyanki beside you answers in an almost bored fashion. 

You pause for a moment. The first name that came to your head wasn’t a name at all. The Dark Urge. Surely that wasn’t what you used to be called. Then two more names appeared in your head. None felt complete but you had to go by something. 

“I think the druids used to call me Lilyvere but you can also call me Tav.” 

Shadowheart smiles as she opens the chest next to her pod, grabbing her armor and weapons. “It’s a nice name.” 

You watch her curiously as she pats down all her armor and flits through the now empty chest one more time. She lifts her head up, looking back towards her pod. Her entire body sighs in relief as she pulls something out of it. A twenty-sided black metal box. Small spikes jut out at all the corners where the triangles that make up the box connect. 

“We’ve wasted enough time already. Let’s move.” 

Lae’zel is moving before you can answer her, giving you and Shadowheart no real choice but to follow. The nautiloid was suspiciously empty. Dead mindflayers, broken pods, dead thralls and people alike strewn about. But not many semblances of life. None that you noticed anyway. You supposed people on different floors could be trying to escape just like you were but the thought of only a few survivors was still horrifying. 

You, nor your companions, could read illithid but only one door so far had a proper sign above it. It has to lead to the helm. As much as you want off this crashing nightmare, you still take your time as you carefully step over the threshold. At the very end of the room you spot what had to be the console that steered this massive ship. This was, in fact, the helm. You, Shadowheart, and Lae’zel assessed the obstacles that stood in your way. A few devils, imps, and their hellsboars fighting with the last remaining mindflayers on the ship. The mindflayer closest to you knocks out the devil it’s fighting before looking directly at you.

“Thrall. Connect the nerves of the transponder. We must escape. Now.” 

“You two cover me,” you say as you slip off your pack and hand it to Shadowheart. “I’ll go for the transponder.” 

Despite having just met, the three of you operate like a well-oiled machine. The two women that flank you stop any creature in your path as you bolt to the transponder. The technology is still very alien to you but the mindflayer’s psionic abilities give you just enough information to figure out what to do. Grabbing two of the tentacle looking structures, you connect them together just as a red dragon’s head appears in the large hole in the side of the nautiloid. You have no choice but to scramble away if you want your life. The copious amounts of fire do nothing to deter the transponder. While you cover yourself from the flames, the connected tentacles hum and vibrate until once again the ship disappears from the plane it was traveling through. 

The ride isn’t smooth this time. You’re flung about and barely surviving, struggling to get a proper grip on any surface. The whole ship turns on its side as it enters a new territory. You pray it’s the Material Plane you’ve found yourself in. It isn’t easy to remember much of home at the moment but you know that you have a place somewhere in Faerûn. Even if you aren’t on Faerûn, at least making it to the Material Plane and away from the illithid would be a good start. 

You’re flung across the ship once more, this time a piece of the nautiloid coming with you. It hits you in the face at a breakneck speed and shoves your body out of the ship. Your eyes start to shut as you descend towards the earth, knowing that even if you survive the initial fall the hunk of metal falling from the sky will surely crush you. But just before your body hits the ground, everything stops. Your eyes open wide and in a panic as you try to look around. A soft blue aura surrounds you and the things around you, keeping you a few inches above the ground. It drops you unceremoniously and for a few hours the entirety of your world fades to black. 

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With a groan, you try to block the sunlight from dancing on your eyelids as you sit up. The sand from the beach you’ve crashed on clings to the blood soaking through your clothes. None of it yours. You think. Running to the water, you try to scrub yourself off as best as you can. New clothing and supplies are a must but you’d like to feel somewhat clean while you begin your search for them. Still with a heaviness about you, you stalk out of the water, trying to remember what happened. But nothing comes to view. The nautiloid is the only clear picture in your mind. 

A corpse up ahead draws your attention. The clothes are unsalvageable but maybe something on the man’s body can be of use. Part of you feels bad as you rummage through his pockets. But he’s already dead. You still have life in your bones and you’re going to fight to keep it that way. As you dig through the last pocket, a half-smile starts to creep along your face. You shake your head as you grab the few gold coins covered in lint and try to push the smile away, unsure why it would even be there in the first place. Taking a moment to assess where any supplies might be, your eyes go wide when you spot a figure only a few feet ahead. 

Your feet sink in the sand as you run to where Shadowheart lays. Her chest rises and falls slowly and you find yourself breathing out a sigh of relief as you sink down to your knees to shake her awake. An unfamiliar face had never been such a godsend before. But right now you need any ally you can get to help figure out the parasite that now makes itself home in your skull. 

Shadowheart stirs after a few rough shakes, sitting up abruptly. “You’re alive? I’m alive? How…”  

“I don’t know. Doesn’t matter now, I suppose.” 

“Seems like we’re the lucky ones,” she says, looking at all the corpses strewn about the beach. 

“What happened to our gith friend?” 

“You might want to reconsider calling her a friend. Looks like she ran off without us.” 

While you weren’t sure if that was true or not, you did know that none of the corpses resembled a githyanki or a githzerai. Lae’zel might still be alive. 

“We’ll figure that out later. We need to collect whatever we can and then find a place to sleep before the day is over,” you say. 

“We need to find a healer for these parasites as well.” 

“I doubt we’ll find anyone today.” 

“Then let’s get these supplies and get as far away from this beach as we can.” 

You aren’t sure how long you spend amongst the bodies. The sun is still high in the sky so it can’t have been more than a few minutes or hours but it feels like forever. Your body is still weary from the initial abduction and the fight. Still, the two of you push through and collect whatever you can. Clothes, gold, food, weapons, sacks and packs to put them all in. It isn’t perfect but it’s good enough for now. Shadowheart returns from the other half of the beach, dropping another set of gold coins into the pouch you two dedicated to money. 

“There’s some sort of old building up ahead. I tried the doors but they were locked. Maybe there’s another entrance or at least a settlement nearby if that exists.” 

“Seems like the best place to start. Are you ready to go?” 

She nods, taking half of the supplies packs and helping you to your feet. The path isn’t clear but the two of you manage to make your way around the ship without getting burnt or trapped by a piece of falling metal. 

“Goblin bodies?” Shadowheart questions as you get out of the worst part of the wreckage. 

“I guess the illithid don’t  discrimina— what’s going on with that rune?” 

Carefully, you approach the rockside up ahead. A rune glitters and swirls in an unstable fashion. Based on the location it must be a sigil for portaling, although you aren’t exactly sure who would use an untrustworthy portal such as this one. Who knows where it could carry you. You get a little closer, examining it. Suddenly, an arm comes darting out of it, making you jump back. 

“A hand? Anyone? Is anyone there?” 

On instinct alone, you slap the thing away. “Who are you?” 

“Just your average traveller stuck between realms. Pull me out and we’ll get properly introduced.” 

A darkness floods your thoughts with fantasies of pulling out one of the daggers you collected and hacking the hand off. You’d watch it still wriggle on the ground for a few moments before suddenly going still. The screams coming from the person stuck inside the portal would be music to your ears. 

Saliva floods your mouth, bringing you back to reality. With difficulty, you beat back whatever dark thoughts had creeped in and take hold of the hand. Shadowheart grabs you and together you both pull against the portal’s hold until the person inside comes tumbling out.  

“Oh,” you mutter before casting your eyes all the way up towards the sky. 

“Hello, I’m Gale of Waterdeep. Apologies. I’m usually better at this.” 

You clear your throat, aimlessly shuffling through one of the supply packs until you find what you hope are clothes. “No need to apologize. Are you alright?” 

“A bit shocked, but friend, it— oh, thank you.” He takes the garments from your hand. “Friend, it’s a relief and a pleasure to make your acquaintance. You were on the nautiloid as well, right? You seem familiar, both of you.” 

“Yes.” 

“Then I assume you too were on the receiving end of a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region.” 

“Couldn’t have phrased it more repellently myself.” 

“No use sugarcoating it, is there? You don’t happen to be a cleric, by any chance? A doctor, surgeon? Uncannily adroit with a knitting needle?” 

“This condition is beyond most clerics’ skills,” Shadowheart tells him, shifting around some of the supplies in her pack. 

“Most, no doubt. But I find myself hoping to be in the presence of the few.” 

You shake your head. “I’ve never used a knitting needle like that before and I’m sorry to say but basic medicine and natural remedies are the most I can do. Alien parasites? I’m afraid not.” 

The smile doesn’t leave Gale’s face. “Well, the three of us will just have to find a healer then. Oh, I can join you?” 

“I don’t see why not.” Shadowheart wastes no time handing him a newly arranged supplies pack. 

“Excellent. A parasite shared is a parasite halved. Or something to that effect. Have you found any more survivors?” 

“Not yet. We’re looking for one in particular but you’re the first person we’ve seen alive.” 

“Well then, let’s keep looking for this mysterious survivor.” 

While the wooded area on the top of the cliffs is more welcoming than the ravaged beach, it’s still quite a hike. You split a small jug of fresh water between the three of you, trying not to drink up too much. You and Shadowheart had only found a few jugs in tact. Without any shelter yet, that last thing you wanted to do was use up one of your most valuable supplies. The three of you kept walking until you noticed a very pale elf waving you down. 

“Hurry, I’ve got one of those brain things cornered. There, in the grass. You can kill it, can’t you?” 

You stood next to the man, looking in the grass, trying to follow his eye line. Bushes rustle but it isn’t an intellect devourer that comes running out. Just a boar. Still dangerous. Although, with the way this one pays you no mind, you’re sure that you and your companions will be just fine. You’re about to tell the man the same thing when a glint catches your eye. You back away quickly, hands held up in surrender as the man points a dagger at you. He waves it almost frantically, making sure that Gale and Shadowheart don’t think they can overpower him without getting hurt as well. 

“Let’s just put the knife away. We don’t need to fight,” you try to reason with him. 

“We don’t? I saw you on the ship — free, scuttling about. You’re in league with them, aren’t you? Those tentacled fr— argh.” 

The invasive presence of the tadpoles still aches your brain and makes your body tense but you find that you are already used to the unsettling sensation. The pale elf in front of you though is doubled over in pain and confusion. 

“What was that? What’s going on?” 

“The mind flayer’s worm,” Gale answers. “It connected us. Now, can we please put the knife away.” 

“The worm, of course. And to think I was ready to decorate the ground with your innards. Apologies.” 

“Can’t blame you. I was looking forward to seeing yours.” The words slip out of you before you can even think to stop them. 

The elf isn’t swayed. A small smirk decorates his face instead. “A kindred spirit, I see. I’m Astarion. I was in Baldur’s Gate when those beasts snatched me.” 

Baldur’s Gate. That name sounds familiar in your mind. Maybe that was where you came from. 

“So, do you know anything about these worms?” 

“Not much. But we’re trying to find a healer if you’d like to join us.” 

“You know, I was ready to go this alone, but maybe sticking with the herd isn’t such a bad idea. Lead the way.” 

No one in your band of four has any sense of place so you keep going straight, following the already beaten paths in hopes of stumbling upon a settlement. The backs of two horned figures appear in your field of view as you make it to the top of a small hill. Looking up you see Lae’zel sneering down at them from the trap they have her in. 

“Zorru was right.” You hear the man say as you get closer. “Yellow as a toad and twice as ugly.” 

“The thing is dangerous. Let’s just leave it for the goblins to kill.” The woman tiefling tells her partner. 

“And if it escapes?” 

Your eavesdropping is cut short as your skull pounds from another mind connection. Lae’zel stares right at you, lips not moving yet you hear her raspy voice anyway. 

“Get rid of them.” 

“That creature is dangerous,” you say with an air of bravado as you approach the tiefling pair. “Get out of here. Leave it to me.” 

“She’s right. Let’s go. We need to check out that blast.” 

“A blast?” 

“You didn’t hear it?” the woman inquires. “Shook our camp good so we came for a look.” 

“And where is this camp? We’re in desperate need of a healer.” 

“North-west. You’ll see a sigil for Emerald Grove eventually. I would give you our rune stones but we only have these ones on us. It’s not a quick hike but it isn’t terribly far. If you leave at first light tomorrow you’d probably make it that same day. When you get there, look for Nettie. Whatever your wound, she can mend it. And be careful. There are goblin traps everywhere.” 

You give them a quick thanks and watch them run away before returning your attention back to Lae’zel. 

“Enough gawking. Get me down.” 

“Say please.” 

“Never.” 

You roll your eyes but summon a thorn whip anyway. It latches onto the wooden floor. The beams collapse as you pull the whip back towards you. Lae’zel drops down with the gracefulness of a cat before rising to her full stature. 

“Glad to see the tadpole hasn’t yet scrambled all your senses. Auspicious. But the longer we wait, the more it consumes. I must find a crèche.” 

“What exactly is a crèche?” 

“Many things. A hatchery, training grounds, a shelter. Githyanki protocol is clear: when infected with a ghaik tadpole, we must report to a ghustil for purification. My people possess the cure for this infection. You will join me.”

A tsk sounds from behind you. 

“Careful. She obviously sees your kindness as weakness. Don’t let her take advantage,” Shadowheart warns. 

“We need whatever help we can get right now. This is our only lead.” 

“I’ll trust your judgement but I won’t trust her. Not until I’ve gotten a measure of her. She can’t even give a simple thank you.” 

“You may as well suggest a wyvern bow to worms. You’ve a sharp tongue, elf. Would that your mind proved its equal. The cure I offer will suffice as thanks,” Lae’zel says. 

“Half-elf. I suppose the finer details are lost on a creature like you.” 

If it bothers Lae’zel she doesn’t show it. “Come. The horned ones mentioned a camp. One there — this Zorru — has seen githyanki. A crèche must be near.” 

“Their camp isn’t close. We need shelter for tonight and then we’ll start for the grove.” 

Reluctantly, the githyanki follows your lead. You start to head back in the direction of the beach and crashed ship, changing course about halfway to follow Shadowheart’s lead as she points out where she saw the old building. 

“It’s locked,” she repeats for the newest members of your group. “But there might be another way.” 

Astarion chuckles. “Rarely are things truly locked. Allow me, darling.” 

He takes the supplies you found and fashion a lockpicking kit. After a few tries the old door swings open with no problem. The air of the building is stale. Unpleasant but not to the point where you wouldn’t sleep. It won’t be the nicest stay but it’s something for the night. You all make your way inside, stopping when you spot a sarcophagus. 

“Great. We’re spending the night in a crypt,” Gale mutters. “At least there are some books.” 

He picks up a couple of them, handing them out whether you want them or not. Your fingers trace over the title. Death & Divinity: A Godly Guide. The words come out in mumbles from your lips as you quickly read the first couple of pages: 

Death is too powerful a force for a single god to contain. The duty is passed from hand to hand, splintered into several pieces. But there must be an overseer for it all. For aeons, it was Jergal. The Lord of the End and Everything. 

Young Bhaal, Bane, and Myrkul must have thought themselves conquerors when they came for the god of death. Yet, he used their ambition to free himself of this weary job. Bane claimed Tyranny and Strife. Myrkul claimed the Dead while Bhaal claimed Death itself in the form of violence. 

“Ugh, all this talk about death. Can we pick a room to sleep in that isn’t littered with tombs?” Astarion asks, trying his hardest to avoid even touching one of the raised graves. 

He isn’t unreasonable. None of you want to spend the night in this part of the crypt. You keep moving through the place, noting the endless amount of books on shelves. The place starts to look more like a library than a crypt. 

“I don’t think this room is any better,” Shadowheart whispers as you all try to avoid the skeletons strewn about the place. 

“Armed scribes?” Gale asks, continuing further into the room. 

“I wonder what was so subversive about their words that they commanded protection. Oh, look another room up ahead.” 

You hope this one is skeleton free so your group can finally rest. Shadowheart presses a button on the side of the door made out of the same brick material as the walls but jutting out ever so slightly, assuming it must be the key or open the lock. The door slides open with little resistance but when you look inside you don’t see much space. You figure it might work for one night though. 

Astarion’s ears twitch at a faint hissing noise, realizing it isn’t the door sliding open. His head peeks around the corner, eyes going wide at the sudden movement of the skeleton scribes. Their bones creak as they slowly rise back to some semblance of life. Their spindly fingers reach for the weapons beside them. 

“Uh, not to alarm but the bones are about to kill us all.” 

Lae’zel doesn’t tear her eyes away from the scribes as she pulls out her sword. “Five of them, five of us. Pick your favorite and move.” 

The five of you don’t hesitate. A shudder runs through your body as you take your dagger and ram it repeatedly into the skeleton left to you. Power surges through your body. A power you have to fight to subdue once the scribe in front of you is nothing more than a pile of bones again. Taking your time, you meet back with your small group. Lae’zel tuts as she steps inside the room. 

“A lot of effort to hide one sarcophagus. This crypt isn’t suitable for even a night’s rest. Take what will be useful to us and then we should leave.” 

It’s a plan you all are more than happy to agree with. Everyone searches through the various chests, vases, and jars placed around the room. You finish emptying a small box of gold coins into the money pouch before turning your attention on the sarcophagus. Something good was bound to be buried there with whoever’s poor dead body was stuck in the grave. Grunting, you push the top partially off. A corpse’s hand reaches up to finish the job, causing you to clamber back with your dagger at the ready. Something not quite skeletal but not a recently dead body floats out of the tomb before setting itself down on its feet, only mere inches away from you.  

“So he has spoken and so thou standest before me. Right as always. Now, I have a question for thee. What is the worth of a single mortal life?” 

“Who are you?” 

“There are many answers to that question. None are important. But if one needs a name, Withers will suffice. Wilt thou answer my question? What is the worth of a single mortal life?” 

You take a moment to ponder before answering, wary that a seemingly incorrect one might trigger the undead to attack. “Each life is of infinite value and merits sacrificing everything for.” 

“And thus balance is achieved. If all are at war, none can win. Very well. I am satisfied. We have met and I know thy face. We will see each other again at the proper time and place. Farewell.” 

The corpse — Withers — disappears before your very eyes. Astarion shakes his head, gathering his pack. “I think I’m over this crypt. I’d rather a night sleeping on dirt outside.” 

“Let’s just go.” You take the lead, everyone else gladly following. 

The sun has almost dipped completely beyond the horizon and you still haven’t found a suitable place to rest. 

“Does anyone know of any camps?” Shadowheart asks as she takes a sip of water. 

“None close to wherever here is. And I don’t remember the sigils for them either.” You take the water jug from her. 

“I think I might have a place. My mother’s family owns a bit of camping ground just outside of Waterdeep. I don’t want to risk going home in case these things attract any mindflayers but the grounds should be safe. It’s isolated, fresh water from a river, outhouses. Really, it’s a go—” 

“Gale,” Shadowheart cuts him off. “It could be a horse stable and at this point I would still be satisfied.” 

“Alright, someone bring me three stones and a knife.” 

With great precision, Gale infuses his magic into crafting a new rune to mark the area where you all found Lae’zel tied up. He hides the stone in a bit of grass so no adventurer running through can stumble upon it before carving the same sigil into a stone and shoving it in his pack. With the final stone, he carves the rune he’s had memorized since he was a child. You all take hold of him as he firmly squeezes on the rock and thinks of the campsite. A black and purple vortex surrounds you for a moment before spitting you out. 

Gale smiles as he tucks the stone away. “Welcome to just-outside-waterdeep. Oh, hello!” 

You all look over to where Gale is waving to see Withers by a docked canoe, scribbling something in a book. In a bit of shock, you make your way over to him. He doesn’t smile or give any real emotion. Withers simply poofs his book and quill away before acknowledging your group. 

“We meet again as predicted. I shall be here in thy camp for whenever thou hast need of my services.” 

“Thank you, I think.” Gale turns back to the group. “We’ll need supplies. Don’t you worry about that. Everyone, pick a spot for your tents and I shall handle the rest. She should be here any moment now.” 

Before you can ask who he is talking about a tiny almost shrill voice cuts through the silence. 

“Yoo-hoo, Mr. Dekarios!” a winged cat with a tortoiseshell coat calls out as she makes her way over to you all. 

“Tara. I knew you wouldn’t stay in Waterdeep like I asked.” 

“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t. You look terrible. Have you been eating?” 

“It has been only a couple of days since you saw me. I can look after myself, Tara. But I am glad you’re here. My new companions and I need some supplies. I’ll make you a list. Go home and grab my money and then head to town. Deliver the stuff here. I might not be coming home for a while.” 

“I’d be glad to. But first, my payment.” 

She sticks her head straight up, eyes closed, waiting for Gale to kneel down to her level. No amount of acting can stop the purrs as he pets her. 

“I shall be off in a moment, Mr. Dekarios. Mr. Dekarios’ companions.” 

She saunters over to an empty spot, effectively picking out Gale’s resting site for him. 

“The cat is cute,” you say as you pick out a spot for your tent. 

“A tressym but thank you.” 

Gale makes the rounds, compiling a list of what everyone would like before sending Tara to go shopping. The rune on the pendant dangling from her collar is putting in overtime. You can’t help but laugh when every few minutes the campsite’s large sigil carved into a boulder glows and a new item lands softly in the dirt. You spend a good chunk of the evening creating your own little sanctuaries, taking turns washing up, and organizing supplies. 

“Who knows how to cook?” Gale looks around to see if there are any other hands raised aside from yours. “Well, I guess it’s just you and me. What’s on the menu?” 

“Something that doesn’t require much of my focus.” 

“Vegetable soup it is.” 

The others continue working on their tents while you and Gale cook a hearty pot of soup over the fire, Tara supervising the entire time. Shadowheart comes over when the soup is nearly finished, telling you bits of what she was doing a few days before being snatched up by the mindflayers. Astarion plops himself down by the fire soon after. He takes only a small bowl of soup compared to you three but takes slow bites nonetheless. 

“Lae’zel!” You call out, waiting for the githyanki to poke her head out of her tent. “Food.” 

Lae’zel reluctantly comes over, not yet accepting the bowl of soup extended towards her. “A monster forms inside us and you all think to be idle. I knew your kind to be fragile but I didn’t foresee the severity.” 

Gale simply chuckles. “Everyone needs sleep. A few hours of rest will not change the predicament we’ve found ourselves in. And an exhausted warrior is an ineffective one, might I remind you.” 

“A thickheaded notion in a complex circumstance. Do you suppose that the parasite inside us dare to rest?” 

“Well, you may do as you please but I choose to not pass out on our hike tomorrow. Come, sit down, eat.” 

“No. Take your rest. I will stand watch. Should a single tentacle split your skull, I will not hesitate to end any of you.” 

She takes the bowl from you and makes her way back to her tent. The only thing you can do is scoff. 

“She does know it’s impossible to change overnight, right? But I suppose we should sleep sooner rather than later. Gale and I cooked so you have to clean.” 

“Doesn’t he have a spell for that?” Astarion sneers. 

“Using magic for cleaning wasn’t exactly a concern of mine growing up. Have fun. The quicker you clean, the quicker you rest.” 

Both you and Gale retreat to your respective tents before either of you can be roped into helping with the dishes. Tara, hot on his heels, darts into the tent so Gale can close it up for the night. He strips off the tunic he put on after washing for the sake of everyone else in the camp and attempts to settle in properly. 

“I brought you something,” Tara says once Gale is comfortable in his bedroll. “For your tummy troubles.” 

She sets down a ring. Gale watches a faint glow of magic swirl around the small thing. The orb within him shudders. He squeezes down tightly on the ring, bring it close to his chest. The Weave imbued in the ring drifts away from the metal and to his chest until the jewelry is just a hunk of silver once again. Gale casts it aside without a second glance. 

“Thank you, Tara. I needed that.” 

“You’re very welcome. Let me worry about the orb, Mr. Dekarios,” she says as she curls up on top of his abdomen, closing her eyes. “You worry about the tadpole in your head.”

[lilyflowerstories]

Baldur's Gate Masterlist

The Dark Urge. A name familiar yet strange to say aloud. But Tav doesn't have time to worry about what these urges could mean, not with a tadpole buried in the skulls of her and her newfound companions.

Essentially: If Baldur's Gate was adapted into a TV show a la The Last Of Us style, this is what it would look like… in fic form instead of script form for more enjoyable reading.

Season 1: Act 1

Episode 1: Pilot/From One Crypt to Another

[lilyflowerstories]

A Veil of White | 2

Pairings: Sirius x Remus, Sirius x Reader, Wolfstar x Reader

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 coming soon

Warnings for the series: light violence, angst, light smut

Word Count: 2.8k

Synopsis: 15 years ago you fell through the veil. A little less than 15 years later, Sirius followed. He expected death. No one returned from the veil so that was the only logical conclusion. What he didn't expect was to meet you again.

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“Hey, when’s your birthday?” Sirius asked as he came downstairs in a band tee and corduroys. He wasn’t sure yet but the Bowie shirt felt way more comfortable than what he’s been wearing for the past few weeks. 

It was nearing the end of the year and he wasn’t sure if he was going to be staying much longer, feeling a lot better than when he first arrived. But he did want to at least stay for your birthday. He would make a cake, send some invites to your few American and French friends, and have a nice little party before going to start a new life in London. That city in particular felt like it was calling Sirius’ name. Maybe he used to come from there or went to school there. Either way, he was moving to London some time next year. 

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “First name, age, vague sense of nationality, and magic seem to be the only things most of us remember.” 

Sirius nodded. The more he thought about it, he could only remember his age as well. He pulled the calendar off the wall and brought it to the kitchen island along with a pen. The two of you flipped through and starred two random dates that looked nice to each of you. Sirius stared at the date, memorizing your birthday until he was sure he knew it. A summer birthday was nice. You guys could have the party outside. 

“What should we do for Christmas?” he asked as you two loaded up the cart. 

The hours at the market were longer as you moved into the holiday season. The longer you stayed out now then the longer winter break you would get. Sirius was getting good at selling to customers. You were helping him think about jobs to apply for, teaching him everything you knew about baking in case he wanted to work at a bakery. So far he was thinking of being a baker, a record shop worker, or a bartender. He was a really good bartender. You two learned that from all the different drinks he’s been very successful at making. 

“Gingerbread house and Christmas movies is what I do every year.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

You two set up the stand, sitting on matching stools and waited for customers. Sirius groaned as you reminded him that tomorrow was cleaning day. Even though the cottage wasn’t big and magic made cleaning a breeze, he still hated it. He would do it for you but that didn’t mean he had to like it. 

The Christmas movie in the background provided great ambience as you two dusted and cleaned. Sirius took in a big whiff as the broom swept by him. You had introduced him to the concept of simmer pots. He was finding he absolutely loved what you deemed the scent of Christmas. Apples, pine, cinnamon, rosemary, cranberries, and allspice. It started off faint but soon the entire cottage smelled like Christmas by the time you two sat down on the couch. 

You pulled two blankets from the basket, handing one to him. Not quite cuddling, but closer than before, you and Sirius sat next to each other and watched the movie properly.  You tried not to laugh when his feet poked out from his blanket. He had started wearing lots of dress pants mixed with leather jackets and band tees or fancy button downs. Usually black or muted colors but his socks were always bright and colorful. 

You got more comfortable as he floated over two oversized mugs of hot chocolate. The smell of chocolate graced your nose, making you all warm inside before you even took a sip. Maybe it was too forward to say but this was one of the best Christmases you had in awhile. Something about Sirius was just easy. He didn’t tiptoe like other guests. He wasn’t afraid of truly living in the cottage as if you were just a school friend letting him crash on your couch for a few months. The place felt equally his. 

“That actor isn’t even playing,” Sirius said as you watched the main character attempt to serenade his love interest. 

You snorted. “How would you know?” 

“Look.” He pointed. 

You leaned in a little bit so you could follow his eye line. Sirius talked in great length about how the notes didn’t match up to the speed of fingers. Sometimes, the entire wrong key was played. After the scene changed, the two of you just paused. The understanding that Sirius shouldn’t know how to play the piano rang out in both of your minds. 

He leaned back against the couch, running a hand through his hands. “Do the memories normally come back that fast?” 

“They normally don’t come back at all. Not this strongly. Sirius, this is a big deal. We need to buy you a piano tomorrow. Maybe if you play, more memories will return.” 

Sirius wasn’t exactly sure on that plan but his fingers were itching to play the piano for some reason so he gave in. The two of you went to several second hand stores in the muggle world, knowing a broken piano can be fixed with magic relatively easily. He settled on a small brown piano that had definitely seen better days. 

“I promise to pay you back,” Sirius said as you two arranged the living room so the piano would fit properly in the space. 

“No need. This thing wasn’t exactly pricey.” 

He barked out a laugh. “I’m pretty sure that old man was two seconds away from paying us to take the thing away.” 

He cracked his neck before sitting down at the refurbished piano bench. You got back on the couch and just listened to him play. The melodies were soft and complex in their sound. Sirius didn’t sound like he recently learned how to play. There was a sort of experience that could only come from years and years of practice. Maybe even childhood. You closed your eyes and let the sound take over you for a moment. This had always been your favorite song to hear Sirius play as you curled up by the fire and wrote feet of parchment for homework. 

You practically shot up, eyes piercing into the man’s back. He sat up straighter to play but didn’t turn around. Trying to relax, there was nothing you could do but continue to stare at him. You knew Sirius. You had even gone to school with him. Quickly, your eyes closed again. But nothing else seemed to come through to provide more detail to your memory. 

“I know you,” you whispered, going stiff when the music stopped. 

You didn’t think he had heard you. Slowly, he turned around. It was absolutely silent in the small cottage as the two of you stared at each other for a moment. Through various stutters, Sirius asked you to repeat what you just said so he could confirm it. You did what he asked. Both of you took in deep breaths. 

“You remember parchment?” Sirius asked as he ran a hand through his hair. 

You nodded. 

“We must know each other from school… Maybe I’ve been looking in the wrong places?” 

“Hmm?” 

“I figured because I had to learn French that I must have been British. But you speak perfect French, even in your sleep, a—” 

“I talk in my sleep?” 

“I hear the murmurs any time I get up to use the bathroom.” 

Sirius shot up from the piano bench, making you jump out of your skin. He grabbed all the potion books from your shelf and began immediately making a mess in the kitchen. You slowly strolled over and peered around him to see the page opened up to the Pepper-Up Potion. 

“Maybe I’ve said something in my sleep. Some subconscious memory that can’t come to the surface. Sorry to do this to you, love, but you are the only other person here and I do have to fall asleep in order for this to be effective.” 

“If this helps us at all then I don’t mind.” 

For the first time since the initial six months after you fell through the veil, you had hope. You didn’t even need your own memories back anymore. You knew Sirius from school. Everyone he knew, at least up until adulthood, you must have known as well. Just to prepare, you went to go take a long nap on the couch. Sirius stopped his potion-making long enough to throw a blanket over you and light the fireplace. He kept looking over occasionally as he stirred and bottled various potions. 

Gently, he shook your shoulder when the sun went down. You changed into your own pajamas, despite the fact that you wouldn’t be getting any sleep before meeting Sirius in his room. A chuckle almost escaped you as you stood in the doorway and watched him fluff up one side of the bed, adding a bunch of pillows. 

“I can feel you laughing.” 

“I’m not.” 

“Sound more believable. Alright, get in here.” 

Sirius made sure you were sitting very comfortably on your side of the bed before flicking off every light aside from the lamp on the bedside table. The night started off perfectly normal. There were little mutters that you recorded here and there but not much else. For a while, you just watched Sirius’ face as you took a second cup of Pepper-Up Potion. He was both beautiful and classically handsome. Unfair that he still looked good even in his sleep. You got back to work the moment he began to whisper again. 

The two of you translated the sleeptalking in the morning, finding nothing truly helpful aside from the name Padfoot which must stand for something. You two weren’t sure what it meant yet but you noted it the next night when he repeated the word amongst other things.

This routine went on past the new year. You’d stay up to record Sirius’ words at night, retreat to your room for a quick nap before you two went to market, come home and nap again while he did all the prep work for the next day’s market, and then stay up to repeat the whole process. Each night, the raven-haired man moved a little closer to you as he slept. 

The soft yelp that came from you, woke Sirius up in the middle of the night. He snuggled further into his pillow before realizing that it was your pajama covered thighs. 

“Sorry,” he said as he started to lift up. 

“It’s fine, just surprised me is all. I don’t mind.” 

Tentatively, he lowered his head back down. “Maybe we should just stop, love. Nothing new has come out of this. The memories can’t be forced, I guess… Where are you going?” 

“Sirius, you just said we should stop. I’m going to bed now.” 

His grip on you loosened but he didn’t let go completely. “You can stay here if you want.” 

“A-alright.” 

You settled comfortably into his hold. He sighed as you curled up against him, both of you figuring out the best way to sleep while still cuddling. You momentarily shivered when a cold hand slipped under your shirt before it warmed up against your skin. 

“This is nice,” you murmured. 

“Better than nice.” 

The two of you began spending most nights in each other’s bed. Fragments of memories seemed to come back each time but none ever painted a clear picture. At least something was there. Perhaps something more than memories, although neither of you were quite ready to say that outloud. But you both knew. Sirius knew it every time he caught you looking at him or whenever he caught himself seeking you out in the cottage. You knew it every time he got a little too close to your mouth when speaking or whenever he doted on you even if you didn’t need it. Like how he had barely let you get up off the couch or from the bed for the past few days.  

“Love, sit down,” he said, shoving a thermos into your hands. “I’ve been handling customers for months. I can do this. You just relax. Are you sure about ice skating?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Sirius, I’m fine now.” 

He poked at your still slightly red nose. “Fine. But if I catch a single sneeze from you, we’re coming straight home.” 

You both froze. He had never called the cottage home. He was technically still a guest like everyone else. It was your home not his. But the word slipped out so smoothly. You tied a scarf around his neck, smiling slightly. 

“We’ll come home if I don’t feel good?” 

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll come home.” 

Sirius took your hand. He found himself smiling slightly when you didn’t pull away. The two of you began to pack up shop after serving the last customers. You rolled into a secluded alley so you could shrink the cart to fit in your purse before walking in the vague direction of the outdoor ice skating rink that was still open for a few more weeks. Neither one of you actually bothered to check the proper address of the rink. You were just aware of the relative location and hoped you were heading in the right direction. 

It was on the wizard side of town. You and Sirius wanted to get reacclimated. Especially you. It had dawned on you the other day that you had actually been avoiding quite a lot of the wizarding world aside from your neighborhood and occasional reunion at the French hotel.   

Sirius laughed as you pulled him down another street, still refusing to ask for directions. He passed by the cigarettes in a window display and another memory slowly hit him. It was barely a memory, more like a flash. He was on some balcony somewhere, holding a little cigarette in one hand and a pack of them in another. Sirius shook his head and continued on his way. That was one way to quit smoking he figured. At least he didn’t have to go through all the painful withdrawal symptoms. 

His head whipped around lightning fast. “I heard a sneeze.” 

“No, you didn’t… But I can’t find the rink and I want hot chocolate so let’s go home.” 

Another smile tugged at his lips as he squeezed your hand. “I’m too old to play games, love. I want you badly.” 

“I do too.” 

“So you don’t mind if I don’t move out next week?” 

You kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’d love for you to stay.” 

“Let’s go home,” Sirius whispered, almost afraid of ruining the moment. 

The two of you felt like schoolchildren, giddy and overzealous. You barely made it inside the house before the clothes started coming off. The perks of no other guests was a blessing. You guys didn’t make it farther than the living room. Sirius smirked as your eyes raked down his body, memorizing every little tattoo. 

“You’re very fit.” 

“And you’re beautiful,” he said breathlessly before capturing your lips with his. 

His lips were soft against yours despite the rhythm he set being anything but. The two of you didn’t move from the living room, setting up a pallet of blankets on the floor. Sirius pulled off all the couch cushions and summoned pillows from both of your rooms. You put on a romcom that neither one of you were paying much attention to, still absorbed in each other. You lifted your head from his chest when a small pecking noise started at your kitchen window. 

“I’ve got it.” Sirius wrapped a blanket around his waist and stood up to go grab whatever package an owl had delivered. “It’s from Malcolm.” 

“Oh, he said he would send a postcard soon. How is he doing… Sirius?” 

He slowly made his way over to you, scanning the lines of the postcard multiple times. “He remembers everything.” 

“What?” 

You practically ripped the postcard out of his hand to read the words for yourself. Malcolm had taken a break in his search for his parents to focus on some holiday work at his internship when he bumped right into them at the MACUSA headquarters. The bump triggered everything. The problem with the veil was that he couldn’t remember who needed to run into. But once he did, he remembered exactly who he was. 

“But why don’t we?” you asked as you set the postcard in a special keepsake box. 

“Maybe because we both went through the veil? It’s not like the memories aren’t coming back. They just aren’t strong. Probably because we both have been affected by the magic.” 

“So we need to find someone else we know. Preferably someone who hasn’t been through the veil.” 

You and Sirius stayed up late compiling all the details from your memories. There still wasn’t much but you had enough to make a plan. First, you two were going to prepare the cottage for any new arrivals before moving to the heart of London together. Then, you were going to figure who or what this mysterious Padfoot was.

| next part coming soon |

TAGLIST:

@sunflowerscloudydays @alohastitch0626

[lilyflowerstories]

A Veil Of White

Pairings: Sirius x Remus, Sirius x Reader, Wolfstar x Reader

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Warnings for the series: light violence, angst, light smut

Word Count: 3.6k

Synopsis: 15 years ago you fell through the veil. A little less than 15 years later, Sirius followed. He expected death. No one returned from the veil so that was the only logical conclusion. What he didn't expect was to meet you again.

This story was inspired by @ellecdc and her anon who had this absolutely stellar headcanon that you should read right here. I kind of ignored like half the idea in regards to pairing but it's a fresh spin, that's what we do around here babes.

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Remus thought it could never happen again. But magic was a strange thing. His memories seemed to flash by him in slow motion, starting with the day he graduated Hogwarts.

You weren’t posing for pictures with everyone else and your parents weren’t taking them for once. Instead, the three of you were far away from the marauders and the rest of your friends as you signed a contract. Remus — and the others, although they were trying to act like they weren’t — watched you finally sigh in relief. 

“Is it done?” Sirius asked. 

You nodded, holding up your version of the contract that freed Frank from all responsibilities regarding your very unplanned baby. He didn’t even have to pay any child support. Your family could more than afford it. What you and Frank wanted was a clean break away from each other. With the support of your friends, you were more confident about your decision. Still nervous, but confident. 

You clapped your brother on the shoulder. “Jamie, do me a favor and go elope or have a baby or something. Anything to make you the family disappointment again.” 

Everyone else smiled as James protested about ever being the family disappointment, only for Fleamont and Euphemia to inform him that he wasn’t a disappointment but he wasn’t the favorite child either. James crossed his arms. 

“How are we still counting Regulus? He ran away. That makes me at least the third favorite child… Is it running away if you go back to your original parents?” 

Fleamont shrugged. “He’ll be back. Let’s not make you upset by dropping the ranking when he does. Best to keep it as is.” 

Sirius, not caring that he wasn’t the first or second favorite on account of sneaking Moony in after curfew on multiple occasions, howled in laughter. He did it again when only two years later he was staring at another baby in a crib. This time James’ son. Sirius picked Harry up, propping him up on a single hip, and bringing him to the kitchen where everyone else was. 

“Moons, promise me that we aren’t adopting or getting anyone pregnant until we’re thirty.” 

“I’d love to make that promise, Pads, but clearly you Potters are cursed. Count your days before we end up with our own.” 

It was a joke. That was all it was ever meant to be. No one in the kitchen at Potter Manor ever predicted it coming true. Only a few weeks after that hangout, everyone abandoned the manor when the war suddenly ramped up. James, Lily, and Harry went into hiding. Regulus did come back, spending lots of nights painfully fighting with his brother about both of their regrets in how he left. He proved himself useful as a spy. Remus moved back in with his dad, towing Peter along, while his mum and Peter’s parents hid themselves in the muggle world. Your parents took your baby girl while you spent most of your days at Hogwarts as a teaching assistant, pretending to know nothing of your brother or the Order. 

You weren’t stupid though. James and Lily couldn’t bear you not being the Secret Keeper but they needed another one because of how obvious you were. You chose Peter. Sirius was too obvious, Remus wasn’t the best occlumency, and the girls were in the field too often to take the risk. Peter was unassuming. No one but your friend group noticed him. Death eaters would be the same way. 

None of you realized you had underestimated him. Honestly, no one really knows what happened. One minute, you were calling Remus for help as you tried to hold off Voldemort long enough for James and Lily to take Harry and run. The next minute all of them arrived just as you grabbed Harry while James grabbed Lily. You were more skilled in apparating. It was safer if you took Harry and met your brother and sister-in-law at your parents’ house. But you had to get a bit farther before you risked the death eaters being able to hold onto you.

They heard and saw the killing curse fired. They saw you turn to shield your nephew just as the curse hit you in the back. And they saw Harry drop from your arms as you fell into some veil at the same time the curse touched you. What they weren’t sure they saw was Voldemort suddenly disappearing or exploding or vanishing. No one really knew even to this day. 

Harry was fine. Maybe he didn’t drop but you set him down? Although, would you have time to when a killing curse was pretty instant? Your body was never recovered. It disappeared through the veil in Godric’s Hollow. The stone archway disappeared a few days later. They buried an empty casket at your funeral. 

Remus and Sirius took in your daughter, Lorelei, because the war was still going on even after Voldemort’s disappearance. Once it finally ended a few months later, no one had the heart to take her away from them. James and Lily gladly gave them custody. It wasn’t like Harry wouldn’t see his cousin nearly everyday anyway. They were all content and slowly healing for eleven calm years. 

And then Voldemort returned. Something they always anticipated after Regulus informed them of horcruxes but only got one and had yet to figure out how to destroy it. But while they had anticipated it back in the day, they started to forget over the years. And no matter what, they never expected the children to be directly involved. The children shouldn’t have to be involved. 

That’s what Remus thought as he stormed through the Department of Mysteries with the rest of the Order. He nearly froze in his place when he saw the veil. Of all places for it to end up, it had to be here right now. He didn’t understand it but magic was a strange thing. And when Sirius began to fall through the smoky white filling the archway, Remus could do nothing but stare as he held his daughter back from following her father and never returning. 

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Sirius felt the pain of the curse Bellatrix lobbed at him. But as quickly as the blinding pain happened, it went away. It was nice to know death was painless. And he was still conscious so maybe there was an afterlife after all. Sirius wasn’t sure but he couldn’t do anything at the moment. He couldn’t move his body at all. But he was moving somehow. Feeling slowly started to return to Sirius’ body and he realized he was starting to get soaked through with what he hoped was water. 

He stared up at the sky, waiting for more feeling to return, as he continued to float down the river. It was a beautiful day. Time must have worked the same in the afterlife because it was daytime when he entered the Department of Mysteries. He heard a gasp. Sirius closed his eyes as two hands struggled to lug him out of the water. His legs were still jelly that he couldn’t even help the figure take him all the way to wherever he was going. Maybe he should have been more concerned but he was already dead so what’s the worst that could happen. He was taken all the way inside a house. Or at least he thought it was a house. Eyes still closed, Sirius let himself be hauled up onto what definitely felt like couch cushions beneath him. 

“I haven’t had a guest in so long. I’ll go make some soup.” 

His eyes popped open at the sound. He recognized that voice. But that was impossible. The moment he regained feeling, Sirius sat up and practically ran to the kitchen where he heard humming. His hands reached out without thinking, turning you by the shoulders. 

“Y/N?” 

“Who? I call myself Gardenia.” You pointed out the window. “After the gardenias outside.” 

“No. You’re Y/N P— Y/N P… I’m Sirius Bl— Sirius Bl… Why can’t I remember my last name?” 

“It happens. You’re lucky I’m here. No one was around for me and when I passed out, I forgot everything except leaving the river. Almost forgot I could do magic until I just found this wand.” 

“When I pass out?” 

You nodded. “Should be happening soon. Don’t worry, I’ll remember your name.” 

“No, wait. You’re Y/N P— that’s not important. You’re Y/N… fuck, last name isn’t important. Okay and you disappeared on Halloween in…” 

Your eyes flitted down as the man in front of you passed out just like you said. At least you could remember two things for him. His name was Sirius. Yours was apparently Y/N. You liked that. It sounded nice. Setting a timer, you floated the man back to the couch now that you had your wand on you and returned to the soup. He lasted a while before fainting so he’d probably be out longer than you and most of your guests were.

A second timer went off just as you added the final ingredients to the soup. Your bread was finally finished proofing. Just in time for your new dinner guest. The real question was how long would Sirius be staying. The longest guest you had was a child who stayed with you for a few good years before you helped them get into Ilvermorny for their final two years of schooling. 

Something smelling like a warm hug woke Sirius up from his slumber. He slowly sat up, looking around at his unfamiliar surroundings. The very definition of cottage, complete with a fluffy cat in his lap and looking perturbed that he got up. Running a hand through his hair, he took a deep breath. 

“This is not what I thought the afterlife would look like.” 

A soft laugh caught his attention. 

You set down the perfectly crusted bread on a serving plate. “You’re not dead, Sirius.” 

“You know my name? I don’t even know my name.” 

“You told me before you fainted.” 

“What else did I tell you?” 

Sirius’ shoulders slumped when you told him that he was only able to mention his name. Groaning, he finally got to his feet. You pointed to a dresser with various sizes and styles of clothing for guests to choose from. Sirius tried his hardest to remember what would suit him but couldn’t for the life of him. He was sure that he didn’t dress like this smarmy aristocrat everyday and must’ve been in the middle of a dinner party when he died. That didn’t give him much style ideas to go off of. In the end, he chose a pair of corduroy trousers, a plain white t-shirt, and a sweater vest. 

He looked himself over in the mirror. The look didn’t fit him at all but it brought on an odd sort of comfort. Not wanting to mull it over much longer, he made his way to the dining table that separated the living room and kitchen. 

“So, how are you sure I’m not dead?” he asked as he began buttering the slice of bread he cut. 

You grabbed your wand and flicked on the radio. Sirius listened intently as the news played. You flicked on the tv in the living room to show a different news program. He still wasn’t convinced but agreed that if the news said tomorrow’s date in the morning then he would believe it. You led him to one of the guest bedrooms, telling him where everything was and that he should treat the place as his own while he’s here. 

Sirius went through all the rooms, except yours, picking clothes in each of the wardrobes and drawers that he thought would be nice for him. He returned to see a nice basket with new underwear and toiletries. They were generic so all guests could use them but Sirius appreciated the gesture nonetheless. You gently called his name. Turning, he saw you leaning against the doorway. 

“I have to go to the farmers market tomorrow, you’re welcome to tag along if you want.” 

He snorted. “There are farmers markets in the afterlife? Sure.” 

“Not the afterlife.” 

“I’ll believe it when I hear it.” 

“Goodnight, Sirius.” 

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It might have been petty but, when morning came, you turned the radio to its loudest volume. Humming to yourself, you began to pack up for the market. This wasn’t always your home after washing up the river. The river outside wasn’t even the same one. You had washed up some river in France. Unfortunately, the person that found you and had a similar set up as yours was out of town when you passed through the veil. If you had washed up two days later then maybe you would have had a chance to tell someone your name or any information. It was too late though. 

By the time Delacoeur found you passed out in her lavender bushes, you could only remember that you were a witch. It could have been worse. Delacoeur was an amazing mentor. She had been through the veil herself about twenty years ago. The old woman wasn’t the first to own what she loving called the hotel for forgetful and lost souls. By the time you were well enough to rest, you had renamed yourself several times, remembered you were British, and found yourself staying in a nice wizarding village just outside of Liverpool. 

Sirius stumbled out of bed, making his way into the kitchen. He quirked an eyebrow at your fluttering about. You motioned to the radio and he just sighed. 

“Fine, I’m not dead.” 

“Glad we’ve established that. Do you want to come to market with me?” 

“I thought you’d be buying,” he said as he began packing up the rest of your stuff. 

“I make money this way.” 

“Enough to afford all of this?” 

You nodded. “People love fresh produce and baked goods. Muggles, especially. They can’t get enough. Finish washing up, while I load these into the cart. Oh and if you need a refresher, I have loads of spell books on that shelf over there. Not everyone remembers everything they learned.” 

Sirius hadn’t really thought about magic. He grabbed a couple books and some inconspicuous dust jackets to put over them when he came back downstairs. You were already outside, loading up the last of the goods. It took everything in him not to laugh. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but it certainly wasn’t a stand on wheels attached to the back of a multi person bicycle. 

“Usually it’s just me but the extra manpower is so helpful that I bought this bike awhile ago so I wouldn’t have to keep switching them in and out. You ready?” 

The ride to the market was peaceful, if not a bit silly to Sirius. But he enjoyed it somehow. You finally reached your destination well before any customers arrived. Sirius sat awkwardly on the stool you gave him while you set up. You were mingling with the other vendors, dancing to the music someone set up, and making sure your stand was perfect. It was pretty clear that you had some sort of well-established life. Hopefully, he could get to that point as well. 

“How many people have stayed with you before?” Sirius asked suddenly, watching you out of the corner of his eye as you handed a customer a box of croissants. 

“Hmm, depends on how you count it.” 

“Depends?” 

“There’s this old woman in France who has done this for years. She and her family have a hotel for people like us. Usually after I’ve made sure anyone I find is okay, I’ll give them her address.” 

“Well then, how many guests stay after they’ve been wellness-checked?” 

“Sixty.” 

“Sixty?” he nearly choked on his water. 

“I’ve been here for about fifteen years, you know. That’s only four guests a year.” 

Sirius nodded in satisfaction at that answer. It really wasn’t that many once you broke down the math. He asked many other questions throughout the day. If you were annoyed by any of them, you didn’t let it show. Everything was answered to the best of your ability and with a smile. The questions didn’t stop as you two packed up and cycled home. 

“I noticed a picture in the hallway. Do young kids come through the veil pretty often?” 

You shook your head. “I’ve only had a handful of them. Those break my heart the most, they’re always so scared at first. Everyone else chooses to live their new life. But Delacoeur and I try to help the kids get back if we can.” 

“Were you successful with the boy in the hallway?” 

“Sort of. Malcolm freaked out too much to even give me his name before fainting. We figured out that he was on vacation when he came through the veil which was why he ended up so far away from America. He was only twelve.” 

Sirius took the cash register inside for you. “Only twelve? That’s awful.” 

“It was the worst. He knew he was scheduled to go to Ilvermorny. Apparently he was homeschooled for first year. But because we didn’t know his real name and he hadn’t taken his pictures for school yet, we were stuck again. Malcolm decided to just go when he turned fourteen. He was a good kid, helped me at the market for extra money. He still writes every now and then. I went to his graduation two years ago. He has an internship at the MACUSA and is trying to find his parents.” 

You felt your shoulder grabbed before you could step further into the kitchen. Despite the protesting, Sirius made you sit at the table. You worked hard cooking for the market and then selling all those goods. The least he could do was make lunch. Hopefully. Blushing, he admitted that he couldn’t remember if he was a good cook. 

“Cookbooks are over there.” 

Sirius reached up to the floating shelf and grabbed a book with a bowl of French onion soup on the cover. He flipped through the pages with scrutiny, finally stopping at a recipe for fondant potatoes. 

“Does fondant potatoes and, er… soupe au pistou sound good?” 

You nodded, summoning a bottle of wine and two glasses. “Sounds perfect. If we’re going to have a French night we need good wine and music.” 

Sirius laughed as he opened the door of the pantry and started bringing out the necessary ingredients. Even though he didn’t really remember most of his life, conversation and stories still flowed easily between the two of you. You would mention something you sort of remembered from your past life and he would have a somewhat similar story he would tell. Neither one of you was able to come up with a complete tale or a story with full details but you two were having a good time nonetheless. It was like you were old friends. 

“We probably knew each other at school. Where did you attend? I can’t remember where I went.” 

“I never figured it out,” you said, shrugging. “Maybe Hogwarts but I washed up in France so maybe Beauxbatons or one of their smaller schools. I showed up with only three galleons in my pocket so the amount of schools I could’ve attended in this area could have been all of them. Wasn’t worth it to check after the first three schools turned up with no results.” 

“If I remember then we can see if we were classmates.” 

“Sounds like a plan.”  

You changed the radio to a station that you knew played French music to really set the tone. As Sirius put the final cut of vegetables in the soup, you summoned a chess set and a miniatures build you started working on the morning Sirius had arrived. One of the kids showed you some sets when you were staying at the hotel and it became a pretty fun hobby. You had gotten really good at them but the simple kits were often more enjoyable.

Under your breath, you began to sing along with the radio as you spread out the pieces for a miniature wand shop. Whenever you had too many miniatures, you’d sell them at market or give them away for free at the end of the day. You looked up when Sirius began singing as well. It seemed like he finally registered what he was doing just as he took the potatoes out of the oven.  

“I speak French? Merlin’s Beard, I know French.” A large smirk spread over his face as he turned to look at you. “Tu sais la français est une langue de la romance.” 

You snorted. “I hate to break it to you but I spent a good year and half in France. And while your flirting skills are impeccable, men in sweater vests aren’t my type. Especially when they’re drowning in it.” 

“Hey! Don’t diss the sweater vest. I feel oddly attached to it.” 

You took a bite of potatoes. “Keep cooking like this and I’ll never diss the sweater vest again.” 

“Deal.” 

Sirius sat down at the table, cracking his knuckles before finally pulling out his wand. A simple levitation spell was a good place to start. He beamed as the wine bottle lifted with no problem and poured into his glass. You lowered the radio a little, moving the chess set to the center of the table as Sirius placed the dishes on the side. The afternoon was peaceful as you two ate lunch, played chess, and toasted to this new or maybe old friendship.

| part 2 here |

[lilyflowerstories]

♡ = fluff, ♥ = smut/18+, ☁ = angst, ✿ = hurt/comfort

A Veil of White ☁♡✿

[lilyflowerstories]

NOOOO I FEEL SO BAD FOR BARTY 💔💔💔💔THE LITTLE OWL WITH THE CARD OH MY GOD 😭😭😭

I debated cutting that part because I felt so bad with the cute little owl. I can't promise it'll get better for him. Although I'm still debating if it should stay Sirius or is Barty gets a second chance. Unsure yet.

[lilyflowerstories]

Being Seen

Pairings: Barty Crouch Jr. x Reader, Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: Reader is sick of being just friends with benefits.

Warnings: fwb, angst, allusions to smut but none on page, hurt/comfort

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You cursed at your feet as they took you up the stairs to the house that wasn't your own. It wasn't too late to turn around and go back to Gryffindor where your brother and your friends were but you were still going upwards. You sighed as you tried to creep through the Ravenclaw common room, taking out the key attached to the necklace you were always wearing. That fact that no one noticed you actually made you feel worse.

It would have been better if Barty had dormmates that actually bothered to stay in their shared dorm. But between him and the Slytherin gang showing up unexpected, they were sharing with their other friends. You cursed every one of the Houses' founders for letting Barty essentially have the dorm alone. Then you'd have some reservations about just walking in if other people were around to judge you.

No one was in. Merlin, you were being given an out. Why couldn't you just take it? Your feet still wouldn't listen to your head. Instead, you closed the door behind you and slipped out of your shoes, setting them neatly next to the bed. Barty was probably watching Regulus and Dorcas practice. One of them had mentioned something about their time slot being moved.

At least, that's what you thought you heard as you were collecting your clothes and making a retreat when his entire friend group suddenly barged in a few days ago. You weren't sure why a quidditch player would think watching more quidditch practice was fun but to each their own. Not wanting to relive the moment of being caught once again, you got comfortable on his bed and pulled out some homework.

You weren't sure if you were reading the book or if it was reading you. The door opened and slammed shut, jolting you awake. You wanted to roll your eyes at the handsome sight in front of you. Barty just stood there leaning against the door, hands in his pockets, cigarette between his lips as they smirked.

"Back so soon, Treasure?"

You hated when he called you that. Not because the name was foul but because it never held the weight behind it that you wanted it to. Barty made that clear what your arrangement was when you two ended up kissing during a late night study session when you were forced to become study buddies by Slughorn on account of being two of his top student.

You weren't sure why you kept coming back if affection was what you were craving. There was a small part of you that hoped it was just a part of his too cool for everyone act. Maybe it was simply delusion due to the fact that you two had only gone as far as heated make out sessions. You finally looked away, turning your body ever so slightly and going back to doing your work.

Barty chuckled. "You're trying to play hard to get now?"

You could hear his footsteps getting closer but didn't allow yourself to look. The words of your book became impossible to focus on once a looming shadow stood over you. Barty gripped your chin and tilted your head upwards, making your breath hitch. Before you could say anything, his lips crashed against yours. All of your homework was abandoned at you were practically forced backwards onto the bed, not once stopping your kiss.

"What would people say if they saw you now? Miss Perfect Goody Gryffindor on her back for me?"

You shook your head, mumbling against his lips. "Let's just enjoy this for once, Barty."

"I am enjoying this. You willingly letting me corrupt you is never a bad day for me."

"Why does it always have to be about image?" You barely got out before a moan overtook you as Barty kneaded your breasts.

"Because it always is, isn't it?" He kissed you once more. "You can't even stop being prim and proper behind closed doors."

"Maybe it's just how I am."

"Bullshit." He began to suck harshly on a single spot on your neck. "Your brother has a reckless side to him. I doubt the Lupin letting me shove my fingers in her panties is oh so perfect."

"Don't mention my brother just before we fuck."

"You're finally going to let me get lucky?"

You both turned at the sound of the door opening. A groan left you as all of Barty's friends entered without a care. The wolf whistles from Evan made heat rush to your face as you tried to bury your face in the crook of Barty's neck.

"Rain check, Treasure."

"Can't you just ask them to leave?" you whispered. "Or close the curtains?"

"You don't want to leave? Wanna give our audience a show, Treasure?"

"Want you," you mumbled against his neck.

"Don't tell me you're getting attached." Barty stopped laughing when you didn't say anything. Slowly, he pulled you away from him. "You're getting attached."

"Barty, please don't."

"You're telling me to stop? You're the one trying to make this something it's not."

"You can't tell me this doesn't mean anything to you."

"I thought I made myself very clear what it meant. You can't even show me your wild side so how can it be anything more?" He reached for another cigarette. "Are you going to get going?"

You scoffed as you button your shirt back. "You're a dick."

Barty just watched you collect your stuff strewn across the room, not making any moves to help you. There was a pang in his chest that he tried to push down and he watched you walk out the door. The tears blurred your vision as you ran all the way back to Gryffindor Tower, utter humiliation finally settling in.

"Hey, Y/N/N. H—"

You threw yourself onto the first available bed you could see in the dorm, apologizing to Peter who looked absolutely betrayed at the now pile of papers spilling out from underneath you. He shook his head, even though he was more than annoyed, and just quietly collected his work as he patted your back ever so often in comfort.

You shivered when cold metal brushed against the back of your neck. It had to be Sirius. Hoping the tears didn't look too bad, you finally looked up.

"Are you alright?" He helped pull you up. "Do you want to go somewhere to talk about it?"

Sirius took the smallest nod of your head as a good sign. You followed him out of the dorm, not even caring about where he was taking you. Eventually, after a short stop at the kitchens, the two of you made it to the Astronomy Tower. It only took one push from Sirius before you spilled your guts.

"I don't know," you muttered. "Maybe it wasn't even about Barty. Maybe it was just about affection? I just wanted to be shown off, you know, like someone he could be proud of telling the world I'm his girlfriend. I don't make any sense do I?"

Sirius shook his head as he poured you a butterbeer. "You make perfect sense. Junior can't see a good thing in front of him. I would have made you my girlfriend on day one."

You nearly choked on your drink. "What?"

"Hmm?"

The raven-haired boy's eyes went wide. He didn't even realize he said it out loud. If anyone were to pass by the Astronomy Tower or look across the grounds of Hogwarts in its direction, they would see you and Sirius simply staring at each other in shock.

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Barty and his friends strolled into the Great Hall later than usual. Partially because it was the weekend and partially because a big quidditch match was happening in a few hours or so. Ravenclaw vs Gryffindor. He wanted a good night's rest. Or that was what he told himself. Really, he was nervous. You've been mad at him before but you always came back. Except it had been a couple of weeks and you didn't even set foot in the Ravenclaw common room.

His friends had berated him all night. They knew how much he liked you. Even he wasn't sure what stopped him from just admitting the truth. Maybe it's because you belonged to an annoying and arrogant House. Or because you were too goody two shoes that it made him feel inferior like you would look down on him somehow.

The worst thought though was that he still cared what his parents thought. You weren't a prestigious pureblood or rich. Your family was nice from what he heard between your make out sessions and your parents were able to buy the two bedroom cottage that you grew up in and shared with your brother. But that left you a halfblood from the middle class. And maybe he was afraid of either his parents scaring you off or completely disapproving of his choice in partner.

Barty ran right into Regulus, confused as to why all of his friends suddenly stopped. Evan just shook his head and gave him pitiful pats on the shoulder.

"Sorry, man."

"What the fuck are you guys talking about?"

Dorcas and Pandora moved slightly. All the air felt like it was sucked out of the room. There you were at Gryffindor table wearing a quidditch player's jumper. Something that wasn't a strange sight, especially when two of your best friends were on the team. But the jumper had a specific name on the back and you were tucked into said player's side as his harm was slung around your shoulders.

Sirius kissed your cheek, beaming when you asked him for one more.

"I'll give you all the kisses you want this morning."

You rolled your eyes but smiled. "You're worse than James."

"Hey!"

"Prongs, you think if you and Lils don't have sex every morning of a match then you'll lose," Remus said, not once looking up from his book.

You laughed as James flushed red. "We aren't lucky rabbit's feet."

Sirius slipped his hand in yours, stating that he wasn't sure if he agreed. He wasn't wrong that every match they've had since you two have been dating happened to be won by Gryffindor. But that was just a happy coincidence.

"Treasure, what the fuck is this?"

You stiffened up, only relaxing when Sirius squeezed your hand in reassurance. Turning around, you saw Barty standing right behind you. There was a box of chocolates in one hand, his quidditch jumper slung over his arm. In the other hand was a stuffed owl with a sorry card in its fake beak.

[lilyflowerstories]

♡ = fluff, ♥ = smut/18+, ☁ = angst, ✿ = hurt/comfort

Being Seen ✿

[lilyflowerstories]

♡ = fluff, ♥ = smut/18+, ☁ = angst, ✿ = hurt/comfort

Being Seen ✿

[lilyflowerstories]

These Violent Delights | 2

Pairings: Jacob Black x Reader, Edward Culled x Reader

Summary: Y/N Swan is just like every other girl and she likes it that way. Normal is fantastic. Normal creates a functioning member of society. Normal is the reason she moved to a small town to live with her police officer father... only to find out that she gets the farthest thing from what she wanted. // Twilight Re-Write.

Warnings for the series: light violence, light angst, light smut

Word Count: 3.4k

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

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The entirety of the lunch period, you couldn’t find the stomach to eat much. Your bowl of tomato soup only had a few spoonfuls taken out of it. But all the saltine crackers were gone. You had gone over and over in your head what you would say to Edward. Now that he was here, you couldn’t remember anything. You had never been in a real confrontation anymore. You took a glance at his table again. 

He looked different than before. Not terribly different, but enough that you noticed. His skin looked less pale and less stretched over his skeleton. The dark circles underneath his eyes aren’t there anymore either. Now, you could see why people said he looked perfect. 

The bell rang and you silently cursed. You couldn’t have been given more time? Reluctantly, you went with Eric and Mike to your biology class. Eric and you looked over when Mike started frantically digging in his backpack. 

“Ah, shit. Hey, tell Mr. Donoghue that I left my textbook in my car and I’m going to get it.” 

“Okay.” 

Mike ran as fast as possible while the two of you continued going to class. Eric sighed before turning to face you as you stood right in front of the doorway to bio class. 

“Hey, so, about prom, I’m the one in charge of communicating with the dj. I’ve lived my whole life here so I know my music choice sucks so I’m gonna need your playlist.” 

“Okay, when?” you asked as you pulled out your phone to jot down that note. 

“As long as it’s before the month ends, that’s cool. And then dates…  I was wondering do you think Ang—” 

“How you liking the rain, Arizona?” Mike shook out his baseball cap that got soaked in the rain from the run to his car. 

“Guys! Class is about to start. Please take your seats,” Mr. Donoghue cut off whatever Eric was trying to say. If it was important, he’d get back to you later. 

Unfortunately, his lab partner and your lab partner were back so you had to sit with Edward Cullen. There was a slight smile on his face as you walked towards your lab bench. Before you got a chance to say the prepared speech, he spoke. 

“Hello. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself the other day. I’m Edward Cullen.” His voice was smooth like coffee and somewhat low in its sound. “You’re Y/F/N Swan, right?”  

“Y/N.” 

You didn’t give him a chance to say anything else, turning your head to listen to Mr. Donoghue’s lesson. He must have been in cahoots with the universe because his assignment was partner work. The prize? A golden onion that has no value until he comes up with what it stands for. At least only one person could look through the microscope at a time. Edward pushed the device towards you. 

“Ladies, first.” 

“Why were you gone?” You looked in the microscope. “And it better be a good answer too… It’s prophase.” 

“Mind if I check?...Yeah, I was out of town for a couple days. It’s prophase.” 

“Like I said and the empty chair next to me told me that much.” 

“Personal reasons.” 

“Do personal reasons involve rude interactions?” 

“Uh, no. I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t the best day for me before you showed up to class.”  

“Apology accepted, I guess.” 

“So are you enjoying the rain?... What?”

You tried to stop laughing. “You’re asking me about the weather?” 

“Yeah, I guess I am.” 

“Well, no, not really. I’m not really a fan of any cold or wet place.” 

Edward chuckled as he checked another slide. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “It’s anaphase.” 

“Mind if I check… Anaphase.” 

“Like I said,” he joked. “If you don’t like the rain then why did you move to the wettest place in the continental United States?” 

“Baseball.” 

“Baseball? It’s also anaphase. Do you want to check it?” 

“No, I believe you.” 

Edward listened intently as you retold your story to yet another person about why you were in Forks, asking questions when necessary. You guys continued to do your work and talk. He carried the golden onion prize as he escorted you to your locker. 

“Why didn’t you move with your mother and Phil?” 

“Moving once means moving again. Phil could get a second contract next year and we’d be in California or Maine or some stupid place like Delaware.” 

“But now you’re unhappy staying here?” 

“It’s complicated.” 

Edward paused. “I’m sorry, I’m asking too much. I’m just trying to figure you out. You’re very difficult for me to read.” 

“Well, asking questions like a normal human bei— hey, did you get contacts?” 

“No.” 

“I swear your eyes were black last time I saw you, now it’s like a golden brown color.” 

“Uh, no. It’s the fluorescents.” 

He walked away before you could say anything else. You didn’t see Edward until school ended and you went to your truck. He and his siblings seemed to be looking directly at you but you thought you were just being paranoid. You turned back around to dig through your bag for your keys. The screeching of tires caught your attention but it was too late. Tyler’s van was barrelling towards you and your feet couldn’t seem to move. 

Now was not the time to find out that your flight or fight response was the dreaded third option of freeze. You could see Edward, four cars away, staring at you in horror. His mouth dropped open. The same as all the other faces that were about to witness your death. Almost everything moved in slow motion.

The hunk of blue metal slid towards you, you felt something grab your waist, you were pulled down to the ground, and a pale hand was on the van that wasn’t hitting you. You stared at the dent in the metal caused by the hand before turning your head to make eye contact with Edward. 

He stared at you for a moment before letting go of you and running away. You were suddenly surrounded by people asking if you were alright. None of them seemed to have noticed Edward wasn’t there. The next thing you knew, you blacked out. 

The lights of the hospital were blinding when you finally came to your senses. The door opened with a vengeance and in strolled your very anxious father. He wouldn’t calm down no matter how much you tried to speak with him, threatening Tyler’s license and everything. It’s not like it was his fault his tires skidded on ice. You mouthed an apology before shutting the small curtain that divided the two hospital beds. 

“Dad, Dad I’m fine. Okay? I was lucky that Edward was there, no injuries.” 

“Edward?” Charlie turns to Dr. Cullen. “Your boy?” 

You cut in before the doctor could even get the chance to say anything. It seemed like he was going to lie. 

“Yeah, he got to me so quickly.” 

Dr. Cullen gave you a tight smile. “It sounds like you were very lucky. You just need to sign some paperwork, Charlie, and then you are good to go.” 

After Charlie signed the paperwork, he went to warm up the car before you had to drive to the school to get your truck and then drive home. You turned the corner to one of the vending machines when you stopped after seeing Carlisle, Edward, and Rosalie talking with each other. It didn’t seem like a friendly conversation either. They were definitely arguing. As if they could hear you just breather, the three of them turned towards you. 

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” you asked. 

Edward looked reluctant as he made his way towards you. “What?” 

“How did you get over to me so quickly?” 

“Y/N, what are you talking about? I was standing right next to you.” 

“No, you weren’t. Don’t try to lie through this either. You were across the parking lot. I know what I saw.” 

“And what was that?” 

“You stopped the van with your hand.” 

Edward’s somewhat amused face turned cold. “Well no one is going to believe you anyway. Can’t you just thank me and we just drop it?” 

“Thank you.” 

“You aren’t going to let this go, are you?” 

“Not at all,” you tell him, determined. 

“Well, I hope you enjoy disappointment.” 

You went home that night with more questions than answers and the oddly sneaking suspicion that someone was watching you. You went to the bathroom and took your shower while thinking about how Edward stopped the van. So far, you had no concrete answers. You went to bed without any answers as well. Although you did wake up in the middle of night after having a strange dream about Edward. 

You tried to not think about that as you went to school the next day. The buses were already up front when you parked, ready for the field trip that you were positive wasn’t going to be very fun. Edward and his siblings, Alice and Jasper, walked past you. Mike popped up in front of you. 

“Hey, you’re alive, Arizona!” 

“You need more than a van to take me down.” 

The two of you laugh as you hi-fived. 

“So I was wondering, are you going to prom?” 

“Um, I don’t know yet. Charlie said I get two free no questions asked days if I go but me and dancing… it’s not pretty.” 

“Well, do you know if Jess is going?” 

“Mike!” you gasped. “Are you trying to ask Jessica out?” 

“Lower your voice, please. Okay, I may have had a small crush on her since we were seven and I am choosing to ask out my very good friend to prom.” 

“She’s going. I’m going dress shopping with her and Ang next weekend.” 

“Okay. Okay, cool.” Mike walked off before coming right back. “Do you think she likes me?” 

“Most definitely.” 

“Sweet. Thanks, Y/N/N. You’re the best.” 

He got on one of the buses while you got on the other. Tyler sat next to you, plugging your headphones into the jack on his phone. You nodded along to Blue October’s “Hate Me” as it played. The two of you didn’t talk at all but stared out the window like you were in a music video and listened to music until you reached your destination. 

The greenhouse was… interesting. That was the nicest way you could put it. Maybe it would have been nicer if you all weren’t cramped in the small walkway between the plants. Mr. Molina and Mr. Donoghue were trying their hardest to get people to water the plants or give them soil. 

“Now, I’m gonna make a steaming cup of compost tea.” 

He handed it to Eric. You laughed as you heard a very panicked yell. 

“No! Don’t drink it! It’s for the plants.” 

“What’s a no questions asked day?” a deep voice behind you asked. 

You nearly jumped out of your skin. Turning around, you saw the classic peacoat and never out of place hair of Edward Cullen. When had he even come up behind you? 

“You know you’re not helping your case. How’d you even hear that?” 

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

“Dude, you never answer any of mine. You don’t even say hi.”

“Hi.” 

“Please try to act less like a human. Are you gonna tell me anything? Preferably about the other day.”  

“Yeah. I had an adrenaline rush,” he said clinically. “It’s very common. You can Google it.” 

You paused and looked at him. “You’re a terrible liar. And a no question day is when I tell Charlie I need to do something or go somewhere and he asks no questions. It’s a mutual trust betwe—” 

You tripped but felt air and two cold hands grab you instead of feeling your face kiss pavement. 

“Careful,” Edward said as he set you upright again. 

“Thanks. So are you going to answer any of my other questions?” 

“Um. Ma—” 

“Y/N/N!” Jess stepped in between you two. “Guess who just asked me to prom?” 

Edward took the opportunity to slip away. 

“Who?” you feigned ignorance. 

“Mike! I’ve been hoping since forever but like he actually asked me.” 

You and Jess talked the entire way out of the greenhouse and onto the buses, forgetting about Edward and wanting to ask him more questions until it was too late. You weren’t going to think about him for the rest of the day. You had a father-daughter/mother-son date with Charlie, Jacob’s mom, and Jacob. Which meant going to a restaurant because both Charlie and Sarah worked long hours and weren’t going to cook. And Billy was doing his physical therapy for walking so there was no way anyone would force him to cook. 

You went to pick up Jacob at his school while his mom picked up Charlie from the station. He was still inside when you reached the school. It felt stupid signing the visitors clipboard when the school day was already over but you did it anyway just in case. When you made it to a hangout area for students you spotted Jake with his friends. 

You’d like to say they were your friends too but you never got very close with them over the summer. Embry usually went somewhere with his mom, Quil’s grandfather kept inside most of the time, and Seth had sports.

And their acquaintances you knew even less. Paul and Jared were always one grade level above you all and hung out with themselves. Sam didn’t seem to like any of you despite being only a couple years older than you and having even a smaller age gap with Paul. And Leah didn’t come around because either her loser younger brother was there or Sam was there which sucked because you wanted another girl around. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Embry said as you turned the corner. 

“Hi, guys. Jake, you ready?”  

“Yeah. See you guys later.” 

He nodded at his friends before getting up to stand next to you. Your fingers twitched as he intertwined them with his own. He rolled his eyes at the wolf whistles from his friends, laughing when you threw up a middle finger while the two of you walked away. 

“So where are we going?” you asked. 

“Who picked last summer?” 

“Charlie.” 

“Oh, nice, so it’s my turn.” Jacob looked something up on his phone. “Smuggler’s Bar and Grill, sound good? It’s in Port Angeles though.” 

You shrugged. “Eh, I’ve already finished all my homework and Charlie doesn’t go back to work until the graveyard shift. Go ahead and text them our choice.” 

Your truck pulled out of the school parking lot and headed towards the highway. Jacob fiddled with the radio for at least one decent station while you drove the hour it took just to get to Port Angeles. Honestly, you didn’t mind the time. The drive, surrounded by trees, was comforting. Especially with your best friend. 

If you and Jake weren’t singing to songs, you were gossiping about school. There was no need to catch up on anything else. Jake was one of the few people you texted nearly everyday despite being so far away most of the year — including the fact that he had a secret girlfriend for three years. Whenever he wanted to get her a present, he would text you what it was and would pretend he was sending it to you so Billy and Sarah wouldn’t get suspicious. It worked. They didn’t find out even after the two broke up. 

You guys pulled into the restaurant and waited for your parents to show up. Like you predicted, Sarah already analyzed the entire menu and knew what she wanted to order. Jake held up his phone. 

“They said they’re twenty minutes away and the food takes that long to prepare so order for them.” 

“I’m surprised she got Charlie to pick something ahead of time.” 

The two of you went in and got a table like they said. The host smiled a bit too sweetly as they called over a waiter. You and Jacob looked at each other and came to the same conclusion at the same time, silently gagging. There was no way they thought that you guys were on a date. Absolutely not. Was it because you were holding hands? The two of you pulled apart but the damage was already done. 

The waiter sat you down at what you could tell was the restaurant’s nicest booth by the best window that would let you look out onto the water. He handed you the menus and left to give you alone time to think. 

“Just gross, no offense,” you said. 

Jacob shrugged. “None taken. I would never date you, you’re, like, my friend.” 

“Same. Too weird… Do you think they’ll give us free dessert if we are though?” 

“Do you want to play it up?” 

“Absolutely.” 

Jacob gave you a smile you had never seen before but assumed he must have given to his girlfriend. He laid his hand across the table for you to grab. You took it with no problem — Jake’s hands were always warm and still a bit soft since he wore gloves when he worked on cars and bikes. His thumb stroked the back of your hand and he set the menu down to look at you. Almost like magic, or like they’ve been secretly watching, the wait staff came over. 

“Are you two ready to order?” he asked as he set down two glasses of water. 

“Ladies first,” Jake let go of your hand, ready to scoop up your menu when you finished speaking. 

“Um, does the shrimp scampi have a smell?” you asked in fake concern, hoping the waiter would catch on to teen angst of potential bad breath before a first kiss. 

“Oh, no, I got you, honey.” He had a noticeable southern accent. “What do you want to drink?” 

“Iced Tea, please. Oh, and a Caesar salad with ranch dressing.” 

“Got it. And for the young sir?”

“I’ll take the Not Your Mother’s Mac and Cheese along with a lemonade. Oh, and our parents are chaperoning but they’re a little late. Can we get them one clam chowder and one Hawaiian chicken sandwich both with Ruby tonics? What is a ruby tonic?” 

“Oh, I’m so glad you kids are too young to know what it is. Your food will be ready in a minute.” 

He took the menus and walked away. You could hear him gossip to the rest of the staff about chaperones. Jacob grabbed your hand again, giving it a peck. 

“You know he’s totally gonna bring you breath mints. Did you really ask if the shrimp would smell?” 

“Hey, I had to sell it. What brand do you think it’ll be?” 

Jake kissed your hand again. “Lifesavers. They scream not obvious for teenagers asking.” 

“You say this from experience?” 

“Ehh with Elle a couple of times.” 

“Really? I can’t believe you had your first kiss and girlfriend and I couldn’t even get a date for homecoming. You’re still a virgin right?” 

“Yes. I am still a loser virgin.” 

“Hey, I’m a virgin.” 

“Well then in that case virginity rocks.” 

You and Jacob cheered and clinked glasses before laughing when you were unable to hold it anymore. He moved over to your side since the two of you would have to be sitting together anyway once Charlie and Sarah showed up. He took the opportunity to sling his arm around you while you snuggled up to him. The two of you could clearly hear awes. 

“If we actually get free dessert,” Jacob whispered. “We need to do this more often.”  

Your parents came in exactly when the food came out. They looked at the two of you weirdly as you awkwardly broke apart. You shook your head before Charlie could say anything. They went with it like you had asked.  Your parents could do absolutely nothing but shake their heads and smile as the waiter brought out free cinnamon rolls in to-go boxes for not just you and Jacob but for the “chaperones” as well. 

You guys left a generous tip, cleaned up the table, and left the restaurant. You and Jacob clinked the to-go boxes together. 

“Here’s to fake boyfriends.” 

“Here’s to fake girlfriends.”

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| next |

[lilyflowerstories]

These Violent Delights

Pairings: Jacob Black x Reader, Edward Culled x Reader

Summary: Y/N Swan is just like every other girl and she likes it that way. Normal is fantastic. Normal creates a functioning member of society. Normal is the reason she moved to a small town to live with her police officer father... only to find out that she gets the farthest thing from what she wanted. // Twilight Re-Write.

Warnings for the series: light violence, light angst, light smut

Word Count: 3.5k

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

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A police car pulled up in front of you as you waited outside Seattle-Tacoma International. To think, only four months ago you were trying to purchase plane tickets for spring break. Only you wanted to go to New York with the rest of your classmates. The last place you were ever thinking of was Washington. The state, not even D.C. 

And more importantly not Forks, Washington. But you promised your mom that you could handle this. The only thing worse than that small town for the entire year was traveling so much you might as well be homeschooled. When your mom remarried her now husband, Phil, he played baseball for the Phoenix team.

Phil’s good but he wasn’t good enough to be traded around. You thought your whole life would be Arizona. Until Florida called. And your sweet stepfather and lovingly erratic mother packed up everything before suddenly remembering you had school. So moving to Forks had been a you decision but you're not sure how good of a decision that was. 

The car in front of you rolled down its window until you could see your dad. Charlie flashed a smile that you struggled to return. He’s great. You've spent every single summer with him and almost every one of those summers was in Forks.

But two months is a lot different from the entire school year. You knew only a few people that would be going to Forks High School. A pang hit your heart when you thought about your friends again. You guys promised to call but you'd probably fall out of each other’s lives anyway. But you tried to smile once more, putting your suitcases in the back of the police car and pulling on a thick wool sweater over your shirt and overalls. 

As soon as you slid into the passenger seat, it started to rain — a stark reminder that this wasn’t Phoenix. 

You could feel Charlie’s head keep turning to the side to look at you. Like your dad in more ways than one, the start to small talk was awkward for you. The two of you went back and forth in a silent dance until Charlie saved you from speaking about the weather. 

“Your hair has gotten longer.” 

You grabbed a piece of your now shoulder length hair. Two years ago, in the spur of the moment, you had shaved your head to start over. It was the moment after that you decided you would never do that again. Charlie had to suffer the period of you not being able to look at yourself in the mirror. You looked like an egg. It took dedication but your hair was now long and damage free. 

“Yeah, I’ve tried to stop using heat completely. Except the blow dryer.” 

While starting small talk might have been difficult, once Charlie and you were talking no one could get you to stop. The conversation was still going as the car passed the ‘Welcome to Forks’ sign that should have read population: too damn small instead of an actual number — and even when you got out of the car and into the house. Your room wasn’t terribly different from other summers but you noticed drawers and wardrobes that weren’t there before. You guessed when one permanently moves they suddenly need storage for their things. Charlie even cleared more bathroom space. 

That was probably the one thing you hated about this house. One bathroom. Someone should have slapped the architect that ever suggested this… and then slap the builder that followed through anyway. 

You only unpacked the bare essentials for the next week or so. The rest could be slowly unpacked as time went on. Charlie helped for a few hours before doing his shuffle he does whenever he’s uncomfortable. All he could say was okay before leaving the room.

Even though you two can talk for hours, he’s still awkward to his core. You supposed that you should be happy as a teenager that he doesn’t hover. He never has. You used to think it was because being a cop made him busy all the time and he just developed the habit. As the years went on, it became more apparent that it was just his personality. 

A car honk right outside the window caught your attention. You looked through the glass to see an orange pickup truck and some of the only two faces in town that were familiar to you. Your feet carried you out the door before you were even aware until you crashed right into a boy with hair longer than yours, roughly your height, and only a few months younger in age. 

“Woah, Y/N/N, slow down before you hurt yourself. You know you can't be trusted on your own two feet. I'm surprised you're still standing right now or is it just because I'm holding you up.” Jacob said as he gave you a smile. 

“Whatever, dick."

"Whoa, Y/F/N. Language when you're standing right in front of me," your dad interjected but he didn't look that offended.

"Sorry... Hi, Billy.” 

“Hi, Y/N. Glad you’re back and here to stay. Charlie wouldn’t shut up about it since you told him.” 

Your dad rolled his eyes. “Keep talking and I’ll roll that wheelchair right into the middle of the road.” 

“Not before I ram you in the ankles.” 

You and Jacob’s dads abandoned you to play fight in the road. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. 

“I’m glad to see they’re still behaving like that.” 

“Oh, yeah. Days go by and nothing’s different. It's getting worse with old age actually, I'm convinced that's why Mom is always on business trips… So, do you like your present?” 

You turned to face Jacob. “Hmm?” 

He patted the truck just as your dads came back. Your eyes went wide and your lips twitched until they formed a large smile. 

“Are you serious? This is perfect! Dad, you didn’t have to get me a car.” 

Charlie shrugged. “I work late sometimes and thought that your personal autonomy was very important.” 

He’s trying to sound like a parent that actually read the child psychology books. The why he bought you a car didn’t matter. It was the fact that he just did. A truck didn’t exactly fit your aesthetic but something about vintage ones totally did.

"Don't worry, I worked on it myself. Everything's perfect," Jacob said.

"You did this? By yourself now? Jake, what the heck. That's crazy you're doing it on your own now. Why are you so amazing?"

Before anyone could actually answer you, you whipped open the door and sat inside. You remembered this truck very well from playing in it since you and Jake were four. Billy had this thing for at least seventeen years. The first thing you noticed were the new leather seats. They were pink instead of gray. The second thing you noticed was the engine’s sound. Smoother than it had ever sounded before. 

Jacob opened the passenger door, hopping in to show you how the car operated. He was a genius at fixing cars and trucks. You wouldn’t be surprised if he owned his own mechanic shop some day. 

“And that’s it.” He patted the steering wheel. “If anything breaks, let me know.” 

“Thank you! God, I’m so glad I have one recognizable face at school.” 

“You’ve only been missed two summers. Did you already forget I don’t go to Forks?” 

“Right.” 

Jake, like most of the Quileute kids, went to a high school on the reservation in La Push. People weren’t as judgmental when they all shared something common. There they could wear their hair long, tell folklore stories without getting made fun of, or try speaking little words here and there of Quileute so the language doesn’t die with their great grandparents.

All things you would have loved to be part of or just sit on the sidelines and observe. Maybe you should have complained to Charlie until you went there. Now you couldn’t leech off of Jacob and had to actually make friends on your own. Disgusting. 

Your sentiments didn’t change as you got in the truck and headed to school. You were assigned a parking space the moment you transferred. Unlucky you, you were stuck in the front parking lot.

So much for leaving to go get a better lunch than whatever grub they were going to serve at the cafeteria. Charlie worked too much to even think about asking him to get you something. And you couldn’t ask him to cook either. He’s not really shit at it. It's just his taste buds suck. So unless you wanted to text him a specific lunch menu each Sunday, it was Russian Roulette of lunch. That was too much work. Charlie thinks salami and grapes belong on the same piece of Nutella and butter toast. 

When you finally found the parking space, after three circles around, you turned off the engine and found a bunch of eyes greeting you. Lots of them. That’s what being the new kid in a small town gets a person. The eyes stopped staring once you got out of your truck — they needed a face to match the name Y/N Swan. 

“Nice ride,” a black boy in a red hoodie said as he nodded at your car. 

“Thanks, just got it.” 

“Cool.” 

You didn’t exchange any other words before you entered the building. You stared at the paper schedule, trying to memorize classrooms and the stupid tiny map in the corner. An arm suddenly tapped your shoulder. 

“You’re Y/F/N Swan, right? Our new girl.” 

You turned to your right to see an Asian boy with a black polo shirt and the most emo haircut you've seen in a while. You took a double take at his outfit and then at the outfits of your peers around you. Suddenly, you were feeling terribly overdressed.

Your thrifted Burberry monogram poncho doubled as a blanket that you would inevitably need because it sat on top of a long sleeved black mini dress. Was it impractical for January in Washington? Probably. But fashion made everything work. At least you had worn snow boots. 

“Yeah. It’s just Y/N by the way.” 

“Just Y/N. Got it. Well, hi, I’m Eric and your eyes and ears of this place. Anything happens and I know about it. If you need a tour guide, shoulder to cry on, or lunch date then I’m your man.” 

Eric made conversation naturally, no small talk in sight. Kind of like Jacob. You chuckled. “I’ll take a rain check on the lunch date but I do need to find room 33C.” 

“Let me lead the way.” 

He started to lead you down the hallway and to a set of stairs. “So, why move to Forks?” 

“I’m not a baseball girl.” 

Eric snapped his fingers. “Perfect tagline for your spread. I’m the editor-in-chief of the paper and you are front page news.” 

“Oh… Just the front page right? I mean I don’t mind the paper but more than two pages and I’ll transfer.” 

“Got it. Spread killed, feature only. And here’s your stop.” 

“Thank you so much.” 

“I’ll be back for whatever other classes you need to find.” 

True to his word, Eric came back and led you to all your morning classes, including the dreaded P.E. You didn’t hate exercise. You just hated whatever wasn’t pilates or a Jane Fonda workout. Besides, you were never good at P.E. anyway. The testament to that was the gym teacher thinking you should do the volleyball exercises with some of the other girls. 

You flinched as the ball came towards you. It didn’t go back over the net. Instead, it hit your calculus desk partner, Mike Newton, in the back of the head. 

“Sorry!” you yelled as you sped away to hide in the locker room until lunch period. 

Mike seemed to forget about it when lunch came. He talked your ear off all the way into the cafeteria. You had forgotten that a small town wouldn’t be like Phoenix. Everyone wanted to talk to the new kid. Whether they were friends or not was yet to be determined. But Mike was a gentleman. He pulled out your seat for you. 

“Thank you.” 

“My pleasure, Madame.” 

Eric laughed. “Mikey, glad you met my girl Y/N.” 

“Oh, your girl?”

“Excuse me, my girl. We even bonded over cars,” The black boy from earlier rubbed your hair in fake affection before pulling the chair out from under Mike. 

“You’re so dead, Tyler!” he yelled as they ran after him. 

The two girls at your table gave a mix of a laugh and a scoff. A girl with a chunky pink headband slid over a juice carton from her tray. 

“Sorry about that. It’s like kindergarten all over again, isn’t it? You’re the shiny new toy. Hi, I’m Jessica by the way.” 

“Oh, almost forgot,” the other girl with glasses picks up a camera. “Smile!” 

The flash blinded me for a moment. “Woah.” 

“Sorry, I need some candids for the spread.” 

“The spread is dead, Angela,” Eric said in an oddly defensive tone. “Don’t bring it up again… I got your back, babe.” 

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped from your throat. Eric left, leaving you, Jessica, and Angela at the table. Angela set her camera down. 

“Great, now what am I supposed to do about filling up the rest of the newspaper? I can’t do another editorial on teen drinking. It’d be the third time.” 

“You could always run a psa on eating disorders,” you tried to offer an option. “Or um… padding on the swim team?” 

The other girls looked at you and for a moment you thought you said something completely wrong but they began laughing. You caught bits of the conversation as you focused on the food: some of the guys bragging about their sizes that seemed totally fake, speedos fitting improperly, and wondering if they only pad for school pictures. 

Going back to the conversation, a glimpse at the window caught your eye before you could speak. Five people walked like this school was a runway. 

“Who are they?” you asked. 

Jessica dropped her fork on her tray, ready to tell you everything. “The Cullens. Dr. and Mrs. Cullen’s foster kids.”

The names were ones you couldn't remember hearing while visiting over the summers. They were either new kids or never came around La Push. One thing you couldn’t deny was that they were all attractive. And the shorter girl had wicked fashion sense. She strutted by like the rest of them in her thin and flowy white maxi skirt with a chunky black sweater and heels entirely too high for you to ever try wearing. You felt almost entranced just looking at them.

“They’re all like together,” Jessica continued. “Rosalie, the blonde one, yeah she’s with the big one, Emmett. Like a thing.”

“Jess, they’re not actually related,” Angela quickly interjected.

“Yeah I know, but it’s still kinda weird that they live together, don’t you think? Anyway, the small dark-haired girl Alice is with Jasper. He’s the one that always looks like he’s in pain. The two blondes are actually siblings, Mrs. Cullen’s niece and nephew or something like that.”

“Dr. Cullen’s like this foster dad matchmaker.”

“Maybe, he’ll adopt me,” Angela said.

You chuckled. If Dr. Cullen was such a matchmaker then you’d have to tell Charlie goodbye.

“What about him?” you motioned to the last guy left. He walked ahead of his foster siblings like he was the leader or something. 

“Edward? Totally hot, supposedly single. No one here seems good enough for him. Don’t waste your time. Like I care, just don’t waste your time.” 

“Trust me, wasn’t planning on it.” 

You knew that Jessica could have a skewed perspective. Maybe something happened between the two of them but Angela seemed to agree with her. This Edward probably was nothing but bad news and trouble.

You dared yourself to look at their table again. Your eyes squinted when you saw their trays. Nothing looked touched. When you looked up, all five of them were staring at you. You whipped your head around and didn’t dare look back again until after lunch. 

Thankfully, the classes you had right after lunch didn’t have any of them… until bio class. The teacher, Mr. Donoghue motioned for you to sit at the only empty seat that happened to be next to Edward. You nodded and began moving to the chair. A chill ran down your spine and you shivered as the chill pierced your back. Edward stiffened up at the same time. 

You scowled as he held his hand over his mouth and nose. You had taken a shower, put on nice perfume, lotioned, and wore nice jewelry. There was absolutely no way you smelled. His hand stayed over the lower part of his face the entire class period. Even when he had to hand over material, he pushed them to you with a pencil. The moment the bell rang, Edward was gone. Good riddance. 

Mr. Donoghue signed the last spot in your slip saying you made it to class successfully and now you could give it to the receptionist. You paused in the doorway after seeing someone’s back but it was too late. The receptionist had seen you. 

“Just a moment, dear.” 

The person with the back turned around to reveal a troubled face. He grabbed his coat. “Never mind, I’ll just have to endure it.” 

You rolled your eyes, handed in you slip and went to your truck. Edward was a total douche. Yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that we’d be seeing each other more often than you’d like. Probably more often than he’d like as well. 

Charlie wasn’t finished working when school was over but had enough time for a dinner break. His friend, Waylan, brought takeout from Subway. You didn’t remember Waylan very well. He left for most of the summer each year to visit his kids and grandkids that left Washington. You all moved stuff around on Charlie’s desk to clear space so you could eat. You had a Spicy Italian sub while the two of them ate BLTs. The two of them shared a different sentiment about the Cullens when you asked them. 

Unlike the kids at school, they had nothing but praise. The Cullens weren’t weird but mature and well-rounded teenagers. And Dr. Cullen was the best surgeon they’ve had… and he stayed past one year which is an accomplishment. Certain jobs like doctors and lawyers always come from out of town. Most leave after one or two years, not able to handle the slow pace of this green and gray town. 

Soon, Charlie and Waylan talked in the most stereotypical old man fashion that you had actually checked out of the conversation. Your cellphone rang as you grabbed a potato chip from the small bag that came with your sandwich. 

“That’s Mom, I’m gonna take this.” 

“Tell your mom I said hi, Y/N/N.” 

You nodded as you walked away.  

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The next day at school, Edward wasn’t there. You had planned to confront him and find out what his problem was when he didn’t even know you. You weren't exactly popular back in Phoenix but no one had any issues with you. Never. 

However, his siblings were there. Not that you were going to approach them. Your problem was their brother not them and you weren't trying to make enemies in such a small town. You watched them walk into the building as you leaned against your truck. You turned when something hit your back. 

“Y/N!” 

You laughed as you looked at the Twizzler on the ground. “Seriously, Tyler? How dare you waste good food,” you said as you grabbed your bag and walked over to where the kids you met yesterday were all crowded around what you assumed was Tyler’s van. 

He shrugged. “I would hardly call Twizzlers the peak of fine dining.” 

You all walked inside at the start of a bell ringing. The day had been pleasant without your science partner. And the next day was the same when he didn’t show up again. And the next day until the entire week had gone by without Edward showing his face. 

Your first week of school was lucky. You had missed any torrential rain. But you couldn’t say the same for that Monday. The only thing worse than rain was rain when it was below freezing outside. Your front steps were covered in ice. Your phone rang as you closed the house door.

"Hey, Jake... First week done, somewhat a success. Hey, when is Spring Break for you guys? We should totally start coordinating now if we want to try and leave town."

Despite being careful as you talked, you must have stepped incorrectly because before you knew it, your butt had gone down the last three concrete steps leading away from your door and to your driveway. 

“Woah, woah, Y/N/N. Are you okay?” Charlie asked as he helped you up. 

“Yeah, just fine, Dad. Ice isn’t exactly helpful to the severely uncoordinated.” 

“That’s why I got new tires for you. The old ones were getting pretty bald.” 

“Thank you.” 

You both high-fived before getting into your respective cars and leaving. It felt like you were already used to the routine of Forks when you pulled into your parking spot and found yourself automatically going to Tyler’s van. You sat with Jessica, Angela, Eric, or Mike whenever you had class and swapped snacks with Tyler in between every morning class because your lockers were right next to each other. And the group always walked to lunch together. 

“Salad or Sandwich… Hello? Earth to Y/N?” 

You blinked to see Jess snapping her fingers in front of you. “Sorry.” 

“We wanted to know what you wanted? The lines are backing up so we’re splitting up and tackling stations.” 

“Nice, divide and conquer the cafeteria.” 

“The Vikings got nothing on us.” 

“As long as the only thing we’re conquering and pillaging are those sandwiches.” 

“Absolutely. They might have had great hair but I'm not interested. So, ham and cheese, turkey, or those stupid cucumber ones that no one likes?” 

“Hey, I like them!” 

Jess laughed and walked to her designated line. Mike and you were in charge of gathering everyone’s desserts and soups. Three wanted brownies and three wanted chocolate chip cookies, four wanted tomato soup and two wanted chicken noodle. You all wanted saltine crackers. Every now and then, you looked over your shoulder at what made you stop in you tracks. Edward was back. 

And your biology class was the first class after lunch.  

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[lilyflowerstories]

Remus Lupin Sirius Black James Potter Regulus Black Barty Crouch Jr. Poly!Wolfstar Poly!Marauders Poly!RoseKiller Poly!Jily Poly!Jegulily

[lilyflowerstories]

♡ = fluff, ♥ = smut/18+, ☁ = angst, ✿ = hurt/comfort

These Violent Delights Series ✿ (ongoing)