#(he is definitely there next to spark shhhh i did not forget about him and then have to add him in last minute)

[mellowthorn]

kelsingra

[peggyrose19]

20 Years

As promised, I’m back for dear Leo’s birthday! Our baby is 20, can you believe it? No longer a teenager. I feel old (he’s older than me shhhh). Happy solar return to Leo, and have a fic in celebration! Many thanks to the discord for the help, y’all are livesavers. Characters belong to @lumosinlove <3  

I know some of you were a bit worried about me, so wanted to let you know that I’m doing better. Probably just gonna be hopping on here and there over the next few days when I get bored in class. I’ll definitely be back in full next week though. I have no school, so the craziness will have subsided somewhat. Ily all, and thank you for always supporting me <333 Now enough from me, onto the fic! Hope you enjoy

“Keep your eyes closed!” Finn demanded, holding his hands firmly over Leo’s face.

“They are,” Leo laughed as he was blindly walked forward. “It’s not like I could see even if they were open.” Logan giggled from his other side. Whatever he and Finn had planned was certainly going to be interesting. 

Finn stopped walking then. “Okay, you can open your eyes now!” He removed his hands as Leo let his eyes open and adjust to the light. He gasped. 

The living room was decorated in yellow and blue streamers, the fairy lights framing the ceiling plugged in and glowing. They had set the dining room table with their nicest (read not mismatched) plates and silverware, lit candles in the middle, and a large vase of flowers on the nearby kitchen counter. Two large balloons were tied to the arm of his usual chair, a two and a zero, and even more brushed the ceiling in the corners of the room. A large happy birthday banner even hung on one wall, making Leo laugh.

Leo gazed at it all incredulously. “Did you do all this?” he asked in amazement. Logan and Finn both nodded eagerly. 

“We’ve been planning it for weeks,” Logan admitted. 

“Oh, you didn’t have to-”

“No no no,” Finn interrupted. “It’s your first birthday with us, you deserve all the pampering and planning. We have two whole decades of Leo to celebrate!” Leo blushed, leaning down to press a kiss to Finn’s lips.

“You’re too good to me.”

“Never. Now come on, you haven’t seen the best part yet.” 

“Better than all this?” Leo gestured to the streamers and the lights. 

“Come on, you’ll see!” Logan teased, tugging him forward by the hand. “And ta-da!” Logan held his hands out proudly, displaying the cake sitting on the table. It read ‘Happy Birthday Leo’ in messy blue icing, the white frosting under it even messier. 

Leo brought his hands to his mouth. “Did you guys make this?” 

“All by ourselves,” Finn said proudly.

Leo raised an eyebrow. “I love you, but neither of you know the first thing about baking a cake. Who did the decorating?”

“That was me,” Logan said proudly. 

“It looks very nice, sweetheart. Can we eat it now?”

“So impatient, Butter,” Finn murmured. 

“It’s my birthday, hush you. I deserve cake.”

Logan pressed a kiss to his temple. “That you do, love.”

Leo huffed a laugh as walked over to his seat, Finn getting there before him and pulling out his chair with a flourish. Leo giggled.

“Why thank you, good sir,” he said dramatically as he sat down and Finn pushed him in.

“You are very welcome.” 

Logan watched them fondly as he himself sat down. “You’re ridiculous,” he murmured.

“Yeah, but you love it.” Finn placed a smacking kiss on the top of his head as he walked by. 

Logan held out a large knife to Leo. “Birthday boy gets to cut the cake.”

“Aren’t you going to sing happy birthday first?” Leo teased, taking the knife. 

“Oh shit, right. Um-” Finn cleared his throat. “Happy birthday to you,” he began, Logan quickly joining in.

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Leo. Happy birthday to youuuuuuu.” They held the last note out, making Leo wince slightly at their tone-deafness, but he was laughing by the end, cheeks flushed.

“Thank you. Can I try this now?”

“You are very impatient today for someone who is no longer a teenager.”

Leo shrugged innocently. “It’s my birthday.”

Logan shook his head fondly. “Alright, go ahead. I want some too.”

“You two better not have messed this up,” Leo muttered as he made the first cut.

“Hey! I will have you know we made this with utmost precision and expertise.”

“Celeste helped you?”

“Celeste helped us.”

Leo smiled as he cut three large slices, placing each on a clean plate before handing one to each Finn and Logan. 

“Mmm,” Leo said, taking a bite. “This is good. I’m impressed.”

Finn gasped. “Are you saying you thought it would be bad?”

Leo leaned forward, licking a bit of frosting off his fork. “That is exactly what I’m saying.” Finn looked turned on. Logan just pouted. 

“Nut, I will have you know we practiced for weeks to get this right.”

“And you didn’t even burn down the kitchen.”

“Have you so little faith in us?” Finn gasped, affronted.

“Logan burned soup last week.”

“That was an accident!”

“You have frosting on your lip.” 

Logan raised a hand to his face. “Oh no,” he sighed as he lowered his hand, clumsily taking another bite and effectively smearing even more frosting on his face. “Such a shame. Guess you’ll have to… wipe it off for me?” 

Leo smirked, both at the absurdity of his boyfriend and the spark Logan’s words sent down his spine. 

“Guess I will,” he murmured, leaning in towards Logan. His lips were sticky and sweet, just like Logan himself. He kissed him like they had all the time in the world, slow and deep, and Leo heard Finn sigh from his other side. 

“Let’s finish eating, mon amor,” Leo murmured against Logan’s lips, licking into his mouth once more before pulling away. He glanced over at Finn, staring at them with cheeks flushed. 

“Fine,” Logan sighed, and reluctantly kept eating. 

“We have another gift for you,” Finn started hesitantly after swallowing his last bite of his cake.

Leo immediately protested. “No no, you guys have already gotten me so much already. You really didn’t-”

“Too late!” Logan crowed. “You deserve everything we give you and more Nutter Butter, and you will accept our love in the form of far too many gifts whether you like it or not!”

“Okay, okay,” Leo laughed, holding up his hands. “Guess I don’t have a choice, huh?”

“Nope. Here.” 

Logan held out a plain white envelope. Leo frowned.

“What is this?”

“Open it and you’ll see,” Logan sang, propping his chin on his hands.

Apprehensively, Leo slid his finger under the seal and tugged the envelope open. Inside were two folded pieces of paper.

“What-” 

“Just take them out,” Finn urged. 

“Alright.” Leo did, and carefully unfolded one piece of paper. Three slips of paper fell out. Leo picked them up, eyes scanning the papers quickly. He brought his free hand to his mouth. “Oh my God,” he whispered.  He raised his eyes to look at Finn, blue eyes bright with tears. “Finn…” 

“Open the other, open the other,” Finn urged. Leo eyed him and turned to the other paper. 

“Is this gonna make me cry too?” he asked, voice tight. 

“Hmm, possibly,” Logan smiled.

Leo unfolded the second letter and three more papers fell onto the table. As he read Logan’s words, more tears sparked in his eyes. “Oh. You guys, this is too much.”

“No it’s not.” 

“But how did you- you got us Broadway and concert tickets.” He looked at them with the closest approximation of heart eyes possible. “ I can’t believe you two, how did you manage to pull this off?

Logan shrugged. “Told you, we’ve been planning for weeks. Although I bought the concert tickets ages ago when his tour was first announced.”

“You mean you’ve had these since May and didn’t say anything? How did you possibly manage that?”

“With difficulty.”

“And Finn, the Moulin Rouge tickets? I mean- third row? This must have cost a fortune!” 

“Baby, we’re professional hockey players. We can afford it.”

“Oh. Right. I forget sometimes.” He blushed. 

“Look, we were already planning on doing New York this summer, right? Logan and I thought-” Logan snorted- “Okay, Logan thought that we should take advantage of it. I mean, you can’t go to New York City for the first time and not see a Broadway show. And we all know Moulin Rouge is your favorite movie, how could we not?”

“And the Harry Styles concert?” Leo sniffed.

“It’s Harry Styles.”

“Good point.”

“And we all love him, so it seemed like as good a time as any. Plus, who would give up a chance to meet Harry?”

“We’re gonna meet him?!” Leo nearly shrieked. Finn and Logan both laughed. 

Leo launched himself at Logan, nearly knocking his water glass over, and peppered his face with kisses, laughing all the while.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe you,” he gasped. 

“Hey! I’m here too!” Finn protested, appearing at their side. 

“Baby, we both know this was Logan’s idea. I love you, but you are terrible at gift ideas.”

“Hey! I will have you know, the show was my idea.” Logan and Leo both laughed, and Leo pulled Finn down for a kiss.

“Thank you,” he said against his lips. 

“Love you,” Finn replied, before Logan was kissing Leo’s cheek, drawing his attention back.

“And thank you,” Leo murmured to Logan.

“Happy birthday, mon amor,” Logan whispered. 

[nancywheelxr]

based on yet another genius conversation @ptadadwenkexing and i had that basically started with: “what if Ye Baiyi adopted Wen Kexing after his parents died?” and then spiraled from there

*

in a city sorrow built

[before]

The world is a foggy forest.

Or, perhaps, a murky swamp, but Zhen Yan has never seen a swamp before, he doesn’t think. All he knows is that his head feels stuffy and it hurts so much. Like he’s on fire. Like when he tripped and skinned his knee except it’s burning everywhere.

When did he skin his–

He can’t think, it’s so hot in here, and it hurts, and–

There are voices around him. Is the Ghost King back? Anger sparks somewhere beneath the hurt, but fear does too, so much of it, and Zhen Yan wants his mom, wants to go home, wants– 

The arms holding him shift and even through the haze, he curls up further, fingers grasping uselessly at robes. “Luo-yi,” he tries to say, feeling tears gathering up in his eyes– she can’t leave too, she can’t, please, don’t leave him alone, please–

“Shhhh,” her voice comes from above, a finger sweeping over his brow even as he’s passed to another set of arms, “it’ll be okay, you won’t remember this.”

“And you think he’ll thank you for that?” This voice, Zhen Yan doesn’t recognize, it sounds cold and harsh, and he wants to push away, but his body feels heavy and so far away, and thinking too hard hurts, so he can’t do anything, except–

*

The next time he surfaces, he no longer feels like he’s burning: instead, he’s terribly cold.

“ – no place for a child,” that same voice from before is saying, and Zhen Yan still hates it, still wants his mom, his dad, even Luo-yi, but he’s so cold– he’ll, he’ll– something, he’ll do something, later, he will, but now, he can only burrow further into this person’s arms, seeking any warmth. The hold on him tightens, something is draped over his shoulders. “Hey, are you awake, kid?”

Yes, and I’ll kill you, you’ll see– the pain spikes again, and he’s dragged back into the darkness.

*

“ – you think you can just replace him?!”

“What did you want me to do? Leave the child in that place?”

“How is bringing him to this damned place any better? The great Sword Immortal could not think of anywhere else?”

“Please, you two, you’ll wake the boy–”

“The child is– his parents died for him, it’s my responsibility–”

“Is it? Or is it your guilt?”

*

A hand presses to his forehead.

“The fever has gone down,” a new voice says quietly, kinder and softer than the first two from before, and Zhen Yan leans into the touch.

Mom, is it you? Did you come back for me?

*

It’s not. She didn’t. When he wakes up again, the fog in his mind is nearly gone.

The winter of his memories is nearly gone, snow melted into a spring river. It’s still there.

He did it.

It’s still there.

*

In the morning, he wakes up with the sun filtering in through the window, brighter than he’s ever seen it. It lights up the room he’s in, allowing him to see how sparsely furnished it is– just the bed he’s in, a desk by the window with a chair, and a large sword resting in a shadowed corner. Over the chair, a white over robe is draped and on the desk, he notices with staggering relief his jade hairpin.

The key is safe.

How long has he been here? He doesn’t remember much after drinking the water Luo-yi gave him. Had he thrown it all up? He tried later that night, but then– what? Oh, he thinks he might have thrown up blood too, that’s probably not very good-- 

The door slides open. 

He means to pretend to be asleep, but the movement startles him, and the man by the door freezes, looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else. The man doesn’t look threatening, with a water basin in his hand, but the little time he’s spent in the Ghost Valley has already taught him not to trust appearances. 

The man sighs, unsticking from the doorway to set the basin at the table. His movements are slow and precise, clearly telegraphed before moving, and when he finally turns to face the bed, his face is tired, weary like Luo-yi’s only ever was that first night when she was cleaning up blood from his face. 

“Alright, what’s your name, then?”

Something terrible caves in his chest, breaking off jagged edges, sharp and cutting, and the words all turn to ash in his mouth. What is his name? His mom told him to never use the Zhen surname again, didn’t she? And she– now, he’s– 

Besides, it feels very far away, that life. Maybe Zhen Yan should stay with that boy in his memories who had a mother and a father that were all alive and well. Maybe– 

“Aiya, why are you crying,” the man says, taking a step towards the bed but stopping when that only seems to make things worse, “if I was going to hurt you, do you think I’d waste my time taking care of you first? Little Idiot, did you forget your own name? That’s a real concern, so you have to tell me the truth.”

“I’m not an idiot!” It rushes out of his mouth before he can stop himself, but surprisingly, along with the man’s awkward blundering, it makes him feel a bit better. “And of course I know my name! It’s– it’s– Wen Kexing!”

There. Mom, is that okay? I’m sorry, I’m listening to you now, see? 

The man does not look like he believes him. “Wen Kexing, sure. How much do you remember, then?”

Wen Kexing. It sounds foreign. Unfamiliar. But not– not bad? He could– it sounds like someone he could be. Wen Kexing. Still the same characters, still him, just– just pieced together a little different. Yes, just different. “Who are you? Where am I? Why did you bring me here? What do you want?”

Another sigh. “You’re going to be a pest, I can tell,” the man scowls, shaking a finger in his direction, “so disrespectful! I’m letting it go this time, but see if I won’t have you kneeling outside to learn some manners in the future.”

He– Wen Kexing scowls right back. “I’ll bite you!”

While he had been prepared to take a hit for that, the only thing the man does is snort. “Silly boy, do you think you are a little ghoul? Now, now, come on, what do you remember?”

Too much. Not enough. Wen Kexing doesn’t know how to answer that. He remembers his dad killing himself and he remembers his mom lying on the ground. He remembers screaming until his throat gave out and he remembers the Ghost King laughing. He remembers– another boy? He doesn’t know what his mother looked like smiling or how his father called him, but he remembers how blood tastes on his tongue.

What do you remember?

Tears are welling up again and Luo-yi told him once not to cry in front of other people, but everything is so terrible, he just wants to curl up under the blankets and not wake up again, and, and–

“Oi, little ghost, don't start crying again,” the man sounds a little panicked even if his face doesn't really show it, but now that he has started, Wen Kexing can't stop crying, choking out sobs so much, he can barely breathe. A hand falls on his shoulder over the blankets, and he looks up to find the man is kneeling by the bed now, looking very uncomfortable, “alright, if I tell you my name, will you stop crying? My name is Ye Baiyi.”

Wen Kexing hiccups. “Where's Luo-yi?”

“At the Ghost Valley with the other ghosts,” Ye Baiyi says, voice kinder than before, “she gave you to me to get you out of that damned place.”

“Why?”

“Because that place is no place for children, not even rude little ghosts.”

“Why?”

“Because– ai, is that the only word you know? Come on, if you're well enough to be a pest, you're well enough to get out of bed to eat.”

“I could be dying,” Wen Kexing sniffs, slowly crawling out from his nest of blankets. There is a lot he wants to ask, but this man doesn't seem to be bad, even if he's rude. Besides, food would be nice. He pokes his head out, glaring. “No funny business, or I'll really bite you.”

Ye Baiyi laughs. "Such a fierce little ghost,” he allows Wen Kexing to get to his feet on his own and doesn’t try to get any closer, only gesturing for him to follow, “put on that robe too, it’s cold up here and there’s people you need to meet after you eat. Well, one person, but she’ll come around later too.”

If they’re going outside later, maybe Wen Kexing could try sneaking out. If this really isn’t the Ghost Valley, then– then, maybe he could run away. To somewhere. He doesn’t know yet, he’ll figure out the details later. 

But food first, he really is hungry.

***

[now]

The inn is bustling with people, the happy chatter reaching even the top of the stairs, and the sun is shining brightly outside– they should go out again today, Wen Kexing decides, just for the fun of it, to hell with the Scorpion! Maybe the market? 

“A-Xu, how about it, let’s go to the market again today,” he’s saying, half-formed plans to laze around in the sun bringing a genuine smile to his face– when he spots him. “Oh, shit.” 

Zhou Zishu immediately starts scanning their surroundings, which is so sweet, Wen Kexing will definitely swoon later when he’s not in a crisis. “What? What did you see?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he tries to backtrack, tugging at Zhou Zishu’s arm to drag him back to their rooms. Maybe, if he’s very luck, Ye Baiyi has not seen them yet. Could they escape through the window? It’s not very high, he doesn’t think. “A-Xu, A-Xu, I’ve just remembered, let’s go back upstairs, I don’t feel so well–”

“Lao Wen, what–”

“Wen Kexing, you lunatic, stop right there!”

“Wait, who’s that–”

“No one, A-Xu, no one,” he closes the door behind them, whirling around to grin his most innocent grin, the one that had Rong-furen patting his head and slipping him an extra mooncake, “A-Xu, what would you do if I told you to jump out that window with me?”

“What,” Zhou Zishu says, eyebrows going up, up, up, as he smirks, “are you telling me there’s someone Sword Immortal Wen is afraid of?”

On one hand, they don’t have time to waste squabbling about unimportant things like this when Ye Baiyi has alread caught sight of him. On the other hand, that is just not something he can let stand– “as if! That old man wishes– !”

Their time runs out: the door is thrown open with no ceremony and Wen Kexing sighs. Honestly, the drama. “Wen Kexing!” Ye Baiyi points a finger at him, not even sparing Zhou Zishu a look, narrowing his eyes, “how many times have I told you to stop calling yourself the Sword Immortal?!”

He scowls. “Old man,” he starts, thinks better of it, amends with a winning smile, “shifu, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Unfortunately, he is betrayed by his own soulmate: “are you telling me,” Zhou Zishu drawls, “you are not the Sword Immortal, Lao Wen?”

“A-Xu! Don’t laugh at me, your skepticism is very hurtful!”

“So you have some brains, unlike the people downstairs who bought into his bullshit,” Ye Baiyi seems to take stock of Zhou Zishu, and Wen Kexing feels irrationally nervous for no good reason– first of all, his A-Xu is literally perfect, so there’s nothing for Ye Baiyi to bitch about, and second of all, who cares what the Old Man thinks? “Who are you, anyway? Why are you running around with that pest in your state?”

“Excuse me, who are you calling– wait, what state? A-Xu?”

“Maybe we should all sit down,” Zhou Zishu gestures to the small table, looking uncharacteristically surprised. 

When he came down the mountain earlier that month, Wen Kexing had only meant to look into why people were suddenly trying to blame Luo-yi for their mess and maybe, if he were lucky, watch the Five Lakes Alliance burn themselves to the ground, get his revenge without even lifting a finger– how fortunate is that? But now things are a lot messier, he still hasn’t figured out how much of his recent dreams are real or not, how truly entwined his life is with Zhou Zishu’s. Had they truly met as children?

It’ll have to wait. Maybe Ye Baiyi will know something, he’ll annoy it out of him later. His head is beginning to ache again, but it’s fine, let them just have tea first– now that he thinks about it, who knows, maybe the Old Man can heal Zhou Zishu’s old injury?

Just in case, Wen Kexing pours the tea for him, beaming away any suspicion. 

[ginger-bread-official]

Moony and Thumper Hijinx

Ficlet of a budding friendship between Tonks and Lupin in Harry’s 3rd year. Tonks trains near hogsmead and has found a companion in Remus Lupin. 

Tonks had no official reason to keep her security credentials to the castle. She had finished her dueling training and passed her exam with Moody, but she still wanted to have the freedom to go up to the castle when she pleased to visit her favorite werewolf. It had become apparent that Remus and her had become friends through all of the dueling lessons and afternoon tea that had transpired in the past few months. They would walk the grounds together, plot pranks on the twins, share old stories; she recently started confiding in him about her dating life. He of course was one voice in a choir telling her to get back on the horse and start dating after Tulip’s betrayal, but he was the only voice that listened when she spoke back. He laughed at her date’s blunders and only gently teased her about hers. It had come to her attention during her visits that the students weren’t the only ones noticing the charming werewolf. Aurora Sinestra was commonly found nearby with her deep chocolate eyes focusing more often on the DADA Professor.

“Oh Thumper give it a rest.” Lupin rolled his eyes hearing Tonks’ theory for the hundredth time, “Aurora is not interested in me.” They were in the library searching for reference material that the professor needed for a lesson.

“She most definitely is.” Tonks whispered back. “Every time I’m up here she’s prowling around the corner,” She scratched the air playfully “waiting to pounce on you.” Remus shook his head amused at the young auror. “I’m only sorry I’ve gotten in the way. I don’t mean to be a cock block.”

“I suspect you’re projecting your own frustrations on to me.”

“Don’t try and turn this around to me Moony.” She shut down his deflection. “She’s clearly into you, and you’re blind old wolf to not see it.”

“SHHHH.” The harsh hush of Madam Pince came from around the corner. Tonks winced at the sound. She definitely didn’t miss that old bat looming around every bookcase. The old crone retreated after shooting the pair a dirty look.

“Your going to get yourself a detention Miss Tonks.” Lupin said with a playful smirk. Tonks stuck her tongue out at him, “Mature.” He chortled as he handed her another book to hold.

“When did I become your pack mule?” She added the book to the growing stack.

“When you decided to hang around during my free period.”

“I thought free period meant free time.” She whined. “Like free time to pull one over on Sprout, or free to go flying for a bit.”

“This is when I plan my lessons. Would you rather I don’t teach my students.” He asked still looking through ‘The Defensive Field Guide.’

“I’m sure they’d appreciate a day off. You’re working them pretty hard.”

“They need to catch up if they want to pass their O.W.Ls and N.E.W.Ts.” he closed the book and replaced it gesturing to her to follow him with the books. “I’ve only got 3 students that made it to N.E.W.Ts level from my predecessors. I can’t let them down like that.” He pulled out another Defensive book. Tonks smiled as his focus zeroed in on the book in his hand.

“Whats your goal?”

“My what?” He didn’t look up from the book.

“Your goal? How many students are you trying to get to N.E.W.Ts?” He didn’t look at her, but she noticed his eyes stopped scanning the page. “5? 10? Half?”

“All of them.” He stated

“Come on Professor, it's just you and me, who’s making the cut?” She leant in, “Dish.” She demanded. He finally broke his focus from the book meeting her eyes with a smirk.

“All of them.” He persisted

“Remus—”

“No,” he cut her off, “if I pick and choose the talented ones then I’m failing those who really need my help. So—” he leant in, “All of them, Nymphadora.” She reacted immediately taking the top book off the pile next to her and swinging it at the werewolf head. “Ouch!” He yelped when the book made contact.

“Don’t call me Nymphadora.” She scolded. He was still smiling though undercutting her stern tone. Madam Pince skulked around the corner probably hearing the commotion.

“I think we better head out.” Remus whispered, “Wouldn’t want you to get sent to the Headmasters office.” He was really enjoying toying with her. They checked out the books he picked and headed back to his office. The students they passed waved and greeted Lupin pleasantly. She remarked how he should run for governor of Hogwarts, earning a sly smile from him. She let him read through his books and prepare for his lessons in peace with the promise of shenanigans later. She read her study materials on the couch with the sounds of smooth jazz playing from his record player. A couple students stopped by for some academic help and she perked her head up to watch him interact with the students. She admired how passionate he was about helping these kids, she only wished she had a DADA professor who helped her. She had to work her ass off to make it to N.E.W.Ts and to get an acceptable grade for the Auror program.

She stood after a while.

“Tea?” She asked. Remus raised his hand in acknowledgement, which she took as a yes. She brought his cup to him, looking over his shoulder at his lesson plans. “Is this for your 4th years?” She asked,

“3rd.” He corrected her.

“Ahh. Harry’s year.” He nodded. “What does he call you during class?” Her signature inquisitive nature taking over.

“What?” He asked, remaining focused on his work.

“What does he call you? Remus? Moony? Dad? Pappa Professor?” She huffed in amusement. She saw a small smile play at his lips.

“He calls me Professor.” He answered simply

“But, but he’s your son.” She argued; Remus shrugged,

“He doesn’t call Sirius or I Dad.” Tonks thought on this a moment.

“He definitely has.” She remarked, “He did when we were kids sometimes.”

“Well growing up it would slip out, but Sirius and I never told him to call us dad.” He thought through when Harry would call them Dad, and how they would gently remind him that they were uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony. Tonks’ brow was stitched. She was compiling all the memories of Harry as a boy, and she found that Lupin was right he called them Padfoot and Moony almost exclusively.

“Why is that?” She didn’t consider that this might be a sensitive issue. “You guys raised him.”  His body tensed and his voice was strained when he answered,

“You’re forgetting, his real dad was our best friend.” She knew she went too far, hit a nerve. A beat of silence fell allowing Tonks to feel properly ashamed.

“Well, whether he calls you dad or not, you’ve done a great job raising him.” His body relaxed and she could have sworn she saw him looking at her from the side of his eye. The tension dispersed; she squeezed his shoulder leaving him to his planning again.

The pair worked the afternoon in amicable silence. Remus worked out his lesson plans while Tonks studied. She didn’t want to think too hard on it, but she had been spending a lot of time with Remus recently. He distracted her, and she was finding she really liked his company. They were unlikely friends, but friends none the less. She had worked her way through most of her potions workbook by mid afternoon. She was working through a particularly annoying antidote when her book was snatched form her view.

“Okay who are we targeting today?” Remus’ boyish smile lifted her out of her study stupor.

“Well we got Snape two weeks in a row. I think we should lay off for a bit.” She reasoned.

“I guess,” he agreed, “Sprout?”

“Oh I could never,” Tonks sounded almost offended at his suggestion, “She’s too trusting and sweet, it's like pranking a kitten.” He chuckled at her reasoning,

“Ok then. How about Minerva?” Her eyes lit up at the suggestion,

“My Everest.”  Tonks agreed. “How do we get her?” She asked the spark returning to her eyes. “Sirius told me about the laser charm to lure Mrs. Norris away. Could we use that?” He chuckled

“It only works on her when she’s a cat.” He explained. Tonks pouted.

“Well then what were you thinking?”

“What if we stash her pillow with cat nip?” Lupin proposed.

“No go. Charlie and I tried something similar our 6th year. She can smell it as a human and then you just get in trouble.” She explained

“Well what if we Charm her quills?”

“To do what?”

“Sign her name as Purrrfessor McGonagall.” Remus smiled at he sudden explosion of laughter.

“Thats brilliant.” She beamed at the professor, “We could also make it so when she writes her first name it changes to ‘meow-va’.”

“Purrrfect.” Remus responded, “I can lure her out of her office with a phony excuse about a student and you sneak in and charm the quills. The only trouble is she adds security charms to her door when she’s not in her office.”

“Way ahead of you. Charlie and I found a way to sneak in her office from the roof.” She stood and put on her gloves adding a sticking charm as she did. “Give me 10 minutes to make it to her office then floo her.” She instructed as she opened his office window and began to lift herself out by the ramparts.

“Tonks wait.” He reached out for her, “We can borrow a broom so you don’t fall off the side of the castle.”

“Your next class starts soon, there’s no time.” She reasoned, “Plus its more fun this way.” She winked as she pulled herself up onto the turret of his tower office. He leant out watching her scale the out side of the castle with her sticky gloves.

“You’re absolutely insane!” He yelled up to her.

“Ten minutes Professor.” Was all she yelled back, and then she was out of sight. Remus chuckled to himself waving is wand at his wrist watch to set a timer.

[hela-of-ren]

Use Somebody

Request: May I request one with Matty? Where he’s best friends with the reader and she one day asks him to teach her how to kiss coz she’s about to go out on her first date with someone else? But when they kiss, somehow, sparks fly and they realise how attracted they are to each other. Soft, delicate atmosphere and cute romance? Thank you bby x   

My little Matt is finally getting some more love and I may have squealed a bit at your request. Matt is such a fluff muffin of love and I just wanna cuddle him all day and night so this is PERFECT. Also, the song I used as inspiration and included in the request is the cover of ‘Use Somebody’ by Laura Jansen. All hail the fluffy blonde triplet of love! <3

Warning: All the fluff EVER.

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“Matty! Listen, I need to ask a huge favor!” your hand clutched the phone to your ear as butterflies flew in your stomach.

Tonight was to be the first date you’d be going on since…well, ever. This was in fact the first date you’d be going on and your nerves were at an all time high. Not only had you never been on a real date, but you’d never been kissed or kissed anyone.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Matt could always sense your nerves.

You and Matt had been best friends since you were using training wheels, one never without the other. The tall blonde was always there to for you, whether it be to tutor you in physics or watch late night toons and eat grilled cheese with you. Matt was always your number one.

“I really don’t wanna say it over the phone, but can you please come over? It’s an emergency!” You didn’t want to beg, but you would if necessary.

“Uhm yeah, I’ll be over in ten minutes!” With a small crash from his end, the line disconnected. You shook your head at how clumsy he could be.

You walked over to your vanity, already dressed and primped for the night. Your hair was put up into a simple up-do with strands falling and framing your face, makeup simple with a touch of lip gloss and mascara.

You’d met Poe from history class, starting off as each other’s study buddies for Mr. Lando’s topic on the first world war. He had been super awesome with sharing his notes with you and helping you to grasp the dates and times for the upcoming test.

Before you knew it Poe had asked you to grab some dinner with him at the local diner. This was the first time a boy who wasn’t out to get in your pants had truly shown interest in you. He was polite, charming, funny and super cute in a very rugged way.

Rewind to what any of this had to do with Matt.

You didn’t trust anyone more than you trusted Matt and if anyone was gonna be your first kiss, it might as well be him. You’d pondered looking up YouTube tutorials on how to kiss, but nothing could ever beat a physical demonstration.

“Y/N?” Matt’s voice rang from downstairs.

“Up here, Matty!” You answered.

You began to smooth out your dress hearing his footsteps get closer to your room. Your turned around just in time to see Matt stand in the doorway of your room still in his orange work uniform, did he ever stop working?

“Thank god you’re here, Matty.” Your greeting went unnoticed by Matt whose view was in tunnel vision and directly focused on you. You looked absolutely breath taking, not that he didn’t think that way of you all the time, but…you were almost glowing.

He tried in vain to close his mouth before mentally slapping himself, he must have looked like a dumb ass…again.

“So you’re probably wondering why I called you here.” You pretended not to notice his momentary lapse in response. “I didn’t really know who else to trust.” You started to ring your hands together.

“Y/N, you know you can trust me. What ever it is, you can tell me.” The sweat of his palms would beg to disagree. No, whatever it was he could handle it.

“I’m going on a date tonight…”

Except that.

“…and I need you to teach me how to kiss.”

…what?

If his mouth hand hung open before, his jaw was on the damn floor now. She was going on a date? She wanted to kiss him? All those rumors about him being a robot might be true because he could feel his brain malfunctioning. He ran his hand through his blonde curls to make sure no wires were sparking before sitting himself down on your bed.

Okay, no wires and no sparks. That meant that everything you just said was real. Sure the kissing part made him nervous, but he’d be lying if he never thought about dipping you in his arms and planting a passionate kiss on your lips. Matt had always had a crush on you ever since you were small, always trailing after you like the tall, blonde, orange fluff he was.

By the time you both reached high school it only became clearer that he was in love with you, always finding new ways to see and hang out with you through tutoring or ‘forgetting’ to pack a lunch. Being in your senior year together only made it more obvious that college was quickly approaching and he’d need to spend as much time with you as he could.

But now you were going on a date…with someone that wasn’t him and he really didn’t know what to say or do without acting like a jealous prick.

“Matty?” You knew this was a dumb idea, the poor boy wouldn’t even look at you now. “Hey listen, forget I said anything. It was a stupid idea…” You trailed off and played with your dress to distract yourself. “I just didn’t wanna look like an idiot, seems like I already am.” You whispered.

Your tone of voice had Matt looking up and his heart nearly shattered at how small you looked. You began to chew on your lip and walk towards the vanity before he stopped you.

“NO!” His yell had your startled when you turned to look at him. “I mean, you’re not an idiot. I didn’t respond because- because the…atmosphere isn’t right.” He mentally smacked himself.

‘Good one, Solo.’

“Y- you need to have a romantic atmosphere to perform a great kiss.” He stuttered out.

He quickly stood up and rummaged around in the fanny pack he always had clipped to his waist, pulling out a lighter and going to your book case to retrieve some candles. Lighting the lavender wicks he carried them over to your bedside table and set them down.

After arranging them in a perfect manner he made his way over to your CD player, flicking through the selections available and settling on one in particular. He flicked through the song titles before choosing one and immediately ran over to your light switch to dim the lights.

I’ve been roaming around Always looking down at all I see

Matt slowly sat back on your bed before patting the space next to him nervously. You looked at him in awe for a second, finally walking to sit till your shoulders touched each other.

“No offense, Matt…but how is this going to help in other situat-” He cut you off with a ‘shhhh.’

“Focus on now,” He moved so that you faced each other, “Just close your eyes and focus.” When had his voice become so seductive? You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, letting out a gentle exhale.

You know that I could use somebody You know that I could use somebody

“Feel the music around you, listen to the candles flicker and spark.” His voice had grown closer and your heart had picked up speed, shoulders tensing slightly. You felt Matt place his hands on your shoulders gently.

“Easy, Y/N. Relax, the whole reason you go in for a kiss is because you feel comfortable and safe with that person.” His thumbs began to stroke your bare shoulders. “I want you to feel what you’re feeling for every kiss we- I mean, you have.” He gulped at his almost slip up.

At his words you began to understand why he’d done all this. The smell of lavender filled your nose and the gentle sounds of the acoustic music soothed you until your lips slightly parted. The light from the candles cast a gentle glow on the two of you, filling your skin with a soft warmth.

Someone like you, and all you know, and how you speak Countless lovers under cover of the street

You felt his hands slide up from your shoulders to cup either side of your face, the extra warmth of his hands producing a slight blush to your cheeks. He moved closer until you felt his breath fan over your lips.

You know that I could use somebody You know that I could use somebody

“Are you sure?” He whispered one final time. You nodded your head and immediately felt his plush lip come in contact with yours. His lips had always looked soft, but the feeling of them covering yours was truly indescribable.

Someone like you Someone like you

Your hands felt useless and eventually found their way to his orange vest, clutching gently to his chest as his hands brought you closer. You felt him gently bring your bottom lip between his in a gentle suck before he slowly broke the kiss.

Those stories about fireworks going off during one’s first kiss might not happen to everyone, but it definitely just happened to you. His kiss was so gentle yet also passionate in a way that you were pretty sure were reserved for lovers.

Oh…

You slowly opened your eyes until you were staring into two pools of chocolate obscured by glasses, his hands still resting on your cheeks.

“Matty?” Your eyes looking into his.

“Y-yes?” He whispered.

“How long?” You knew he’d understand what you were asking. He let his hands slip from your face as he sighed.

“As long as I can remember…” He trailed off with a small shake of his head. You smiled gently at his hanging head, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. you began to type rapidly over the screen, Matt looking up in confusion at the sound.

“W- what are you doing?” His brow furrowed. You pressed send and tossed the phone back onto your bed before gently clasping his chin and pressing a slow peck to his lips. You broke the kiss and smiled at him.

“I don’t think I’ll need that date after all.” Your hand moved to his cheek to stroke with your thumb. His face lit up in that signature goofy grin you loved as he moved in to kiss you again, your finger coming up to press to his lips.

His face started to look panicked before you reached up to remove his glasses and gently toss them onto the bed. Your arms coming back up to wrap around his shoulders.

“Much better.” You pressed your lips back to his and felt him smile into the kiss before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you onto his lap.

I’ve been roaming around, Always looking down at all I see

[impishnature]

The Light Keeper (Part 4)

AO3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Rating: T

Summary: A beast lurks in the waters. Stan loses Ford to the waves, the lighthouse his only point of contact and hope of ever getting him back. …He used to love the sea, now it’s taken everything from him.

Lighthouse Keeper AU. 

Series of One-shots.

AN: Commission and story collab with @garrulousgibberish​ based on their Lighthouse Keeper AU (link above) ^o^ Some of Ran’s art is included! ♥ ITS AMAZING ALL OF IT. So this was all meant to be one but it got huge so this one shot got split into three... it’ll make sense later! (Warnings for panic attacks and allusions to drowning)

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Part 4: Navigating The Void - Lost

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Where am I?

The man frowned, a struggle of a motion, his body refusing to co-operate, eyelids far too heavy to open. In fact, everything felt… heavy, lethargic, draining him with the smallest of movements. Even thinking was hard, his head full of dense fog that refused to budge as his synapses tried to fire.

Am I falling? Floating?

If he had had enough energy he might have panicked, might have wondered what had happened to him that his brain wasn’t working as it should be. As it was, he didn’t have the strength, didn’t have the willpower to more that push half-heartedly against the impenetrable barriers inside his head that rose whenever he tried to question anything.

It was as if something had sapped all the bad from him and left him in this peaceful daze, floating on air, devoid of anything but the blissful black void.

There’s definitely no ground… I don’t even know which way is up or down… does it matter though?

It really was much easier to just drift aimlessly than to worry.

He smiled softly. Something seemed to push towards him, just a small motion, teasing and light as if someone was running a hand through his hair, an undertow of sorts fluttering by him. The questioning thoughts pulled away with it, leaving him hollow but serene.

No, I guess it doesn’t matter…

He didn’t know how long he drifted in that state, time had no meaning as he slipped in and out of consciousness. Though there really wasn’t all that much difference between the two states, other than a sudden thought crossing his mind that reminded him that he was real, that he could move, albeit however slightly.

Wait. How did I get here? Where was I before this?

But then the weird cold sensation would overtake him again. Bubbles would fizzle at his fingertips as if something circled him though he couldn’t open his eyes to check. The swirling movements would catch him off guard, drag him out of his head as his body got caught in it and scattered the questions along with the current.

“Shhhh, you’re safe. He’ll come get both of us soon.”

Ye..s… everything is fine…

He didn’t know who this ‘he’ was or what was even talking to him, if anything was talking to him at all. All he knew was that any worry, any concern fled with it, a soft warmth emanating instead from his core to counteract the cold flow still spinning around him.

“You just have to wait. Wait and see.”

Yes, he’ll be here soon…

And with that the darkness came again, lukewarm and insipid but oh so welcoming.

Nothing could hurt him here.

And with just another cold undertow, the thoughts of even the voice and the mysterious ‘he’ were once again taken far out of his reach.

There was nothing in the void to remind him that this world was not his own.

Who… am I?

The question came like a punch to the gut. The omnipresent being seemed to have left him for a moment, his head clearing enough for the question to trickle through the lingering fog.

The fear of that particular unknown broke down the walls that had been put up in his head as if they were only paper, the fog becoming ice littering the floor of his head as everything shattered into panic.

He opened his eyes, his heart stuttering in his chest as it did nothing, reality as dark and empty as the space behind his eyelids that blinking was meaningless.

Who am I? Where am I? What is this place? I haven’t always been here, have I?

It was suddenly difficult to breathe. Loneliness seeped in, dread and anxiety at the sheer nothingness of it all clawed at his throat, yet he couldn’t scream, the sound bubbling into a similar nothingness when he opened his mouth.

He could feel liquid about him, feel the closeness of it all, that he struggled to move against as solid weights in wet unyielding clothing.

And yet he was fine, undamaged, just unable to move, unable to scream, unable to breathe as water poured into his open mouth.

Unable to do anything he desperately needed to do.

This was a prison cell.

Why am I here? What did I do?

Nothing answered him.

Please- please, I need to- I need something. Is any of this even real? Just show me- please-

A light flickered above his head. Tiny and distance but something in the darkness.

It swirled as if caught in an eddy, mesmerising and clear, a beacon that burned away the fog that resided, burned away the fear and the doubt.

Someone- or something had answered him, leaving him warm and hopeful, his arm reaching out towards it, cupping the tiny spark between his fingers as his mouth twitched into a smile.

The light vanished. His movements ceased as the darkness surrounded him once more.

“See? What was all that fuss about?”

The cold came again, quiet and unassuming. It drifted over him like a mask that sapped the warmth that the light had given him. His arm fell to his side again, heavy and unyielding, even as his heart hammered and his eyes widened, trying to see through the gloom.

A different light fell onto him, yellow and glowing it seemed to hold him in its grasp, aloft and unmoving, caught in its snare. Wherever it moved, his head followed, the smile dropping to a blank expression as his eyes glazed over.

“That’s much better. I told you, didn’t I? That you had nothing to worry about.”

Told… me…?

“Yes. I called out and you answered. Now we just have to wait until the time comes. But don’t worry, you’re nice and safe here.”

Safe… yes, of course…

He felt his eyelids drooping as the light swayed before him, the fog drifting back through his skull to take up residence again amongst his dwindling thoughts.

“It’s not like any of this is real anyway. You’re just dreaming.”

Just a dream…

He nodded along, or an much as he could when his head and body felt like lead and it was just so much easier to give in, to give up and accept the calming words being spoken.

A soft laugh echoed around him, the ice shards in each small sound slipping through the cracks in the peaceful shell that was being wound around him.

Wait- I still don’t know. Who am I?

The darkness didn’t wait for him to welcome it, as it drove back into his skull. Eclipsed the thoughts and the questions and the small almost spark of something vaguely human that he had mustered up again.

No! No- Please! I was so close. So close- don’t make me forget again, please- I don’t want to forget again-

The inky water drove it all away, stole his thoughts and his words, stole the scattered remnants of his being that fell away like sand to the bottom of the ocean floor, until he was just confused and relaxed again, a puppet on a string, waiting unperturbed and aimless.

“That’s it. Rest. Don’t worry, you’ve got a part to play in all this too.”

The laugh sounded again though this time the ice bounced off of him, swayed him in his small bubble but otherwise left his mind drifting away.

“You’re the key.”

A key…?

The soft words faded as soon as they had been uttered, in one ear and out the other with little comprehension.

Something changed with the light though.

He remembered the light next time he awoke.

He didn’t know how long it was until the light flickered on again.

He didn’t know how it reached him in his cocoon of solitude, buried far far below.

All he knew was that it did and that when it did, it felt like he could breathe again, a weigh vanishing from his chest. The world came into focus, his fingers twitched and the darkness seemed just that little bit less all consuming.

All he needed was the light.

He stared upwards at it, head lolling side to side as it moved above him until he started to realise it was getting closer. He felt light as a feather, no longer a solid statue that had sunk to the bottom of the abyss, now he was floating higher and higher as the light grew bigger.

Looks like I know which way is up now.

A bubble of airy giggles streamed out of him at the sudden realisation, the light catching each glistening bauble as it escaped his throat and mesmerised him more. His fingers twitched to touch them, reaching out to swirl them further, small mystifying light sources that felt warm to the touch and swum further and further out from him as he created waves with his movements.

Fascinating.

He may not know his name, who he had been or where he had come from, but his brain still stuttered into life as he continued his ascent. He could feel the grey matter making up for its time consumed by viscous fog, asking a million questions a second, sparking up odd theories behind his eyes, though nothing seemed quite as important as letting the light continue to drag him from the darkness. He let his mind ponder as his eyes stayed locked on the light, as his body was pulled upwards without any help from himself.

For some reason he felt like he would only hinder the upwards momentum if he moved.

The light split above him, a beacon that seemed to bend and sway with smaller droplets of light bleeding out around it. But the fragmentation didn’t really worry him, only intrigued, kept him coherent, lucid. Kept him thinking, wondering on its origins and patterns.

His mind trailed to the other light, the yellow, soft glow that calmed him down whenever he struggled against the hold the darkness had on him.

But it was difficult to keep hold of that trail, sand dribbling out of his hands as his mind speculated on whether he had imagined it, maybe he’d caught a reflection of this light instead. It was so easy to believe, his eyebrows furrowing as he pushed the image away. It can’t have been real, it didn’t feel real, not like this light did.

That small light would never have pierced the darkness, not like this white light did, it didn’t have the power.

But the voice…

A cold shiver swept through him, a sensation that felt oddly familiar and yet disturbingly foreign against the warmth wrapping around him like a blanket as the light bathed him. It was like a word on the tip of his tongue, a sudden sense of foreboding with no cause in sight. He had heard something in the darkness, a shape blacker than black moving behind the odd yellow luminescence as soothing cold swept away his distressing thoughts…

But then the image slipped away, evaporating with the last dregs of the mist, behind his eyelids.

Must have been me, trying to make sense of where I was. The brain does that, doesn’t it? Makes up things to make situations seem more conceivable…

Before he could ponder it much more, he felt the dragging motion grow faster, like there was a hook lodged into the back of his coat and he was being reeled in, up and up. The light above him was growing bigger and more distorted with every second, spreading out and rippling. The darkness around him suddenly wasn’t all that dark anymore, the ink shifting to royal blue interspersed with flecks of light that made patches brighter than others.

And just as swiftly, he hit the light, felt it shatter around him in a moment of dazzling white.

He flinched, hands going up to cover his face as his head and arms seemed to burst through something. It didn’t feel cold or warm on the other side, much the same as the darkness and yet he could feel a significant difference to his surroundings.

He chanced a peek through his fingers, disappointment welling up as the bright flickering light seemed gone from his immediate vision but curiosity soon crushed it, his eyes widening to take in everything around him as he still seemed to drift upwards.

I was in… water…?

His feet skimmed the surface, which rippled as drops cascaded off of him. The dragging motion had ceased in its persistent tugging, leaving him hovering a few inches above the waterline. The myriad of sparkling lights he had seen from the other side now made sense as the water flowed and crashed beneath his feet even though they no longer held the brilliant light that had been there only moments before. The foam was light, the moon dusting it all in a silver sheen but it wasn’t the moonlight that had shone strikingly down on him, cutting sharply through the gloom to wake him from his slumber.

He watched the waves until they hit the shoreline, listened to them crash against the beach before following the tiny pinprick glows through windows up to the night sky full of stars above them, but not one seemed like the light that had dragged him from the depths.

Part of him questioned how a light could even do that, how he didn’t feel cold or seem to need to breathe, nor coughing up water that should have choked him long ago. But the much larger portion of his brain was too busy thinking, too busy exploring all the nooks and crannies to figure out how much he knew before he started to focus on the very large portion of things he didn’t.

That and the last time he had gotten panicked, he’d seized up. It had all gone cold and his thoughts had slipped away from him until his body hummed at the bliss of ignorance. He remembered that much at least, even if he didn’t know what had suddenly sent him into the spiralling dread.

Stay calm, stay analytical, don’t want to shut down again.

And if he was complete honest with himself, this was far better than the perpetual darkness that sapped his strength and mind, no matter how tranquil and safe it appeared.

No, he really did want to explore far more than he was willing to let his mind race ahead into overthinking.

He shivered, not exactly cold but the warmth the light had bestowed on him when it drew him upwards was slowly leaving him hollow once more. He shuddered more violently, feeling himself drop slightly, his body growing ever so perceivably heavier. He looked about him again, this time more frantically, casting for a sign, a sudden thought to help him out of his predicament.

Please! I’m not ready yet. Don’t make me go back!

The light pulsed back to life, bright and blinding.

He raised his hand to his face, shielding his eyes from the welcome onslaught. The action felt oddly familiar, an unexpected flood of confusion overwhelming him as memories tried to flit before his eyes. Not much of it made sense, the emotions in discordance with those he felt at that moment as his body started to hover again, pulled upwards into the wind’s currents.

Relief coursed through him as the sea was left far below, warmth spreading to his fingertips, his core even, as he was blinded, unable to adjust quite yet.

So why was there a sudden lurching feeling from his memories? As if the light heralded something else… something far worse that waited in the darkness.

Can’t be this light. Must be another, something I don’t remember yet…

The thought could wait, that was for sure. He had a lot of things to figure out, why he was here at all being one of them, and all of which he didn’t think could be answered without his continued ascent.

So he let the worry vanish, took back hold of the childish curiosity that had sparked up. He pulled his hands up, cupping the light between his fingers. It had grown less dazzling within seconds, still tugging him up and facing directly at him but it was dim, as if something was missing. Or perhaps it was the building giving him that opinion. The lighthouse gleamed, imposing and robust against the cliff edge but as he looked down below at the distant waves, he was sure that the glimmering glow only seemed to be directed at the tiniest portion.

I’m sure that’s not how a lighthouse is supposed to work…

The glass was suddenly ahead of him before he thought much more, drawing him straight into the bulb and popping him back out into a vaguely recognisable room. The bulb gleamed back at him, a static drone filling the air even as it glowed fainter and fainter with every passing second. He stayed inside its small circle, arms raised towards it as he absorbed what warmth he could before it escaped him again.

I’ve been here before… it looks different though.

“What was that?”

There was a shuffling sound nearby that made him spin, a quite dizzying feat he hadn’t known he’d be able to do and he almost continued the rotation more than he had intended from his hovering state. A young man stood outside of the light, cast in thick shadows behind the bulb. All he could see really was the glint of his eyes reflecting the glow, which were narrowed suspiciously as he cast his gaze about him.

He waited, holding his breath even though he had no need to breathe until the man shook his head, going back to his work behind the bulb.

“Whatever, you don’t have time to be hearing things, remember? Last time you stopped working, the bulb went out as soon as you ran to the balcony. Gotta figure out how to keep it lit this time.”

Yes! Please do!

He beamed, excitement thrumming through him as the man worked. He tried to crouch down, irritation looming as he found it hard to navigate but he was able to fumble around enough to see what the man was working on. There were two books beside him, both pushed forward so they caught enough of the glow and filled with scrawling minute notes that caught his attention. One was left open, a reference that the man paused to look to every so often, filled to the brim with symbols and questionable meanings beside them, more plausible ones underscored repeatedly. There was a small jolt of recognition as he glanced down at his hands, remembering drawing out those sigils one by one in precise detail in a sudden moment of clarity.

Is that mine? It looks like it’s mine.

He went to pick it up, his hand slipping through its entirety disconcertingly, the pages not even fluttering at his approach. He gulped, pulling his hand back to grip his wrist nervously as it hit him just how little he could affect his surroundings, how his sense of touch was inadequate and lacking.

The light flickered, the man cursed and all thoughts vanished as he turned back to it with worry.

He gave a sigh of relief as it soldiered on, righting itself. He banished the sudden wave of panic to the pit of his stomach as he turned to the man’s other book in the hopes it gave some answers.

He frowned, perplexed but intrigued by the pages the man flipped through. The symbols had been copied hastily and marked against where they lay along the flooring of the bulb. There were tables upon tables, row upon row of each symbol with crosses against each one as if he was going trial and error through every possible sequence. The page turned again and the tables changed, now filled with sea levels and moon phases, weather charts and barometer readings.

His eyes widened as he took in the extent of the task the man had laid out before him. Not a day had been missed on the readings and not only that, but it seemed that from the ticks beside each one he had tested out every sequence of symbols on every day that he could see. He didn’t know exactly what the man was trying to do but whatever it was must be important for him to put that much effort into it.

Whoever you are, you must be a hard worker. Do you ever take a break?

The man’s head snapped up again, jumping from his spot to his feet in one swift movement, his arms and legs shifting into a fighting stance with little preamble. “Alright, that’s enough. Whatever you are-”

The light died abruptly seconds later, leaving them both in darkness. His heart thudded as the warmth slowly began to loosen again, his fingertips and toes starting to numb. The young man cursed loudly, he could no longer see him but he could hear him rifling around.

There was a sudden clunk that made him wince, an intake of breath before an explosion. “Son of a-”

Please be careful!

The scolding tsk left him before he could stop it. All movement and sound ceased for just a moment, as if time stood still. He could feel the numbness spreading up his arms, a tingle of fear slipping through his spine as there was a soft downwards tug that he tried to ignore.

There was the shuffling noise again, his minds spiral snapping back to attention as he squinted through the gloom.

A match crackled to life, a small lamp lighting as the man got back to his feet and raised it aloft, face once again suspicious but now brightly lit against the rest of the room.

His heart thudded in his chest as recognition, pure and unconstrained, raced through his skull.

The man continued to glare, rubbing at the side of his head with a pained grimace but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the sour expression. He looked older, different maybe, but there was something there that he knew conclusively, a name on the tip of his tongue that couldn’t help bursting forth.

Stanley!

He preened as Stan blinked, the glare slackening, his mouth falling open. He raised the lamp above his head, turning this way and that as he looked for the source of the noise.

Or that’s what he hoped anyway. He could feel himself starting to sink again, the warmth starting to leave his chest. He glanced at his feet, watching them hit the metal even if he felt nothing, before snapping back to Stan, part gleeful and part urgent. He didn’t have much time and he really wasn’t ready yet to forget when the world was so tantalisingly close again.

Stanley! Stan? Can you hear me?

Stan’s face shut down, the light left his eyes in a way that made him gasp. Somehow the look bit into him, cold and sharp, in a way that nothing so far had been able to. Stan stared out to sea for a moment, looking through him, his teeth biting down painfully on his lip as if lost in some horrible thoughts that made his heart stutter and his hand reach out to help him. Before he could move though, Stan had forced his eyes away, back to the bulb and the books as if nothing had happened, a heavy sigh leaving him. It was like the breath in his non-existent lungs had suddenly been forced out of him, ghosting out in a trail that Stan shuddered in, his hand coming up to rub at his arm doubtfully.

“God damn wind, I’m not falling for it this time.”

Oh.

There wasn’t much warmth left in him now, the water was calling to him again, pulling him down. But it didn’t matter as much as the fact that Stan couldn’t hear him.

He’d been so hopeful that he could be heard from Stan’s actions but perhaps it had all been wishful thinking, hoping that someone would be able to answer all his questions.

Of course it couldn’t be that easy.

It was just the wind that had made Stan jump.

Just the wind that had made him shudder and draw into himself.

He glanced back up as Stan moved once more, another bone weary sigh echoing through the room as he walked past him to the door onto the balcony. His hand slowly crawled up to the glass as he whispered words meant for no one but himself.

And yet he heard them, and they resonated through the muffling hollow cold to burrow into his heart and spark up new exciting potentials.

“Sorry, Ford, looks like it’s not tonight… but I promise, I’ll get you home safe and sound soon.”

Is that me? Am I Ford?

His head vanished below the metal floor as Stan spun around again, the small motion bringing with it a new nugget of hope. His descent became faster. His arms fell to his sides, his legs hanging limply as he became listless once more, solid and heavy as he plummeted towards the roaring waves.

His mind however was still coherent, running through everything it could as if it knew that soon enough it wouldn’t be able to, that soon he would be lost yet again, scattered foam cresting the waters. But he had to hold on to the kernels of knowledge he had been given, wrap each one safe and securely away.

Ford? Stan…Ford?

He’d remembered the light the first time, it wasn’t a surprise when he’d seen it again, perhaps if he was careful he could do the same with these memories. Keep them buried where the light could reach them, where the darkness couldn’t touch.

Stanford. Ford. Yes, that sounds right.

He smiled as the fog returned, the cold ebbing over him and wrapping him up into his silent, serene cocoon once more.

I know who I am.

.

AN: I HAVE GUSHED SO MUCH ABOUT THE ANGLER DRAWING AND NOW I GET TO USE IT DO YOU KNOW HOW ECSTATIC I AM. *coughs* I’m just going to melt in a puddle. tired ill but very happy little puddle. Also very very happy that people found the nightmare fic vivid ♥ that made my day xx