#(remembers its Harry's FIRST mission) a different kind of pain....

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Hi, and welcome to my Bucky Barnes Masterlist. It is nice to welcome you to my little corner of Tumblr! 💙

On this Masterlist, you will find all my series, one shots, requests, and AU's that will include fluff, smut, and angst, but each story will have its own appropriate warnings. If you'd like to check out what other characters/people I write for, you can check out my Main Masterlist.

For now, I hope you will have fun with all the things I have written so far! 💙

I do not work with a tag list. If you want to be kept up to date when I post a new story, you can follow @nicoline1998enilocin-library 💙

All graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

||  Angst ~ 🥀  ||  Fluff ~ 💙  ||  Smut ~ 🔥  ||  Blue title ~ 1K+ notes  ||

''Yer a wizard, Bucky!'' || 💙 You've been a fan of the Harry Potter franchise for as long as you can remember, and you're finally introducing Bucky to the Wizarding World you grew up with. Little did you know he would quickly become just as obsessed with it as you had been all these years.

Campfire nights || 💙 Y/N and Eve are enjoying their trip to Italy, and when Y/N celebrates her birthday, Bucky decides to show up with the Avengers as a surprise. They spend a week on a campsite in Italy with the whole group, and they get up to all different kinds of shenanigans. This one shot is part of my series 'Yours, Forever'.

Big mistake || 🥀 After a mission gone sideways, Bucky doesn't want to see anyone and just be left alone, so he can comprehend what happened. During this time he gets pushed to his breaking point, but now he has to live with the consequences of his own doing. This one shot is part of my series 'Yours, Forever'.

Getting to know myself again || 🥀 💙 Both Bucky and Reader have been through life-altering situations that made them unsure of their bodies. Through their eyes, we will see what they will do to show each other how they can get to know and love their own bodies all over again after everything that has happened to them.

''Nice to meet you, Alpine!'' || 💙 || Part 2 || 💙 [ Part 1 ] Bucky has been missing something in his life, and found the perfect way to fill this void when he found Alpine. He takes her to the vet, and walks out of there with more than just his new feline friend.

[ Part 2 ] Bucky quickly fell in love with his new feline friend, Alpine, but he also fell hard for the wonderful vet who took care of her. After their first date, they were never apart for more than a few days and started a wonderful life together. Thanks to Alpine, they would have the greatest love and are thankful for it every day.

''I miss you, doll'' || 🥀 Bucky has recently lost you, the absolute love of his life, and visits you almost every day if he has the chance. He still can't believe you are gone though, and has a tough time coping with it. He starts missing you more and more each day, but with every day that passes by, he keeps honoring your legacy in everything he does.

Bucky's sweet treats || 💙 || Part 2 || 💙 🔥 [ Part 1 ] Bucky has always enjoyed your baked goods and other sweet treats, so when you start leaving them for him to find when he comes back from missions, he can't help but smile like an idiot every times he sees you, or one of your treats.

[ Part 2 ] Both you and Bucky have been getting into the habit of leaving and finding baked goods at the end of his missions, but he decided he would like to help in the kitchen. He's not much of a chef, so it won't be as innocent and easy as you may have thought it to be.

Rehabilitation || 🥀 || Part 2 || 🥀 💙 [ Part 1 ] When the mission doesn't go according to plan, you can't help but feel like it's your fault. You start drinking the pain and guilt away, not able to deal with it. When you almost get into an accident, Bucky can't take it anymore and states an intervention to get you the help you desperately need.

[ Part 2 ] After your mission went completely sideways, you started drinking away the pain and guilt, without success. It became so bad that Bucky had to sign you up for rehab, and it was quite a shift at first, but the longer you're there, the better you're doing, and the more you realize how deep your love for Bucky goes.

Dating advice || 💙 Bucky has had a crush on you since you joined the Avengers, but he isn't sure about how to ask you out since he hasn't been with anyone since the 40s. When he comes to you for dating advice, you help him out, only for this advice to be used on you.

Unfamiliar feeling || 🥀 💙 You're the latest addition to the nurse team at the Compound, and you're assigned to take care of a certain grumpy super soldier and his wounds. You're treating him very gently and he's not used to this, but he welcomes the unfamiliar feeling nevertheless.

''He's not good enough for you, doll'' || 🥀 💙 You're introducing your boyfriend to the rest of the Avengers, but right from the start Bucky doesn't give him the time of day. When you ask him what is wrong, he tells you that your boyfriend isn't good enough for you, but he doesn't tell you it's because he wishes you were with him instead.

Hopelessly devoted to you || 💙 You and Bucky have been pining over each other for a long time, but both of you are too afraid to take the next step. This all comes to a halt when Tony throws a Grease-themed party, and the two of you dress up as the main characters in the movie.

Gift of my dreams || 💙 You recently moved into your own apartment, and your old mixer finally stopped working after years of great work. Bucky takes this perfect opportunity to get you the mixer you've always dreamed of having, so you can continue making his sweet treats.

Sweet dreams || 🥀 💙 Nice dreams are a rare occurrence for Bucky these days, and when he finally has a sweet dream, it's about you. When he wakes up in a good mood, he doesn't want to tell you it was about you, so he starts avoiding you so he doesn't have to admit it and his feelings for you.

''I'm in love with you, you grump!'' || 🥀 💙 You're currently on a mission with Sam and Bucky, so in order to blow of some steam the three of you decide to go to a bar. During the evening Sam brings up the topic of your dating life, and suddenly Bucky gets very grumpy, but you can't seem to figure out why. You're not exactly comfortable with the topic either, but his reaction seems a bit much in your eyes.

The moment it became unbearable || 🥀 💙 Your anxiety has been getting worse the last few weeks and you've reached your breaking point. When your emotions are at the point you're having a panic attack, Bucky is called away from his mission to help you get through this, just like he'd done so many times before.

Interesting || 🥀 💙 Bucky wasn't much of a talker before he met you, and he usually doesn't talk until you enter the room he's in. One day, Sam calls him out on his behavior, and he tells him that you're the only one who is actually worth listening to in the Compound.

Self-conscious || 🥀 💙 You have been struggling with your body for as long as you can remember, but your best friend, Bucky Barnes, can see just how gorgeous you are. When you are invited to a pool party, he goes with you and shows you just how perfect you are in his eyes.

The perfect date || 🥀 💙 You're restocking at work when you accidentally fall and are caught by the most handsome man you've ever seen. When he asks you out on a date, you can't say no, and when you run into your ex on that date, he stands up for you like a true gentleman. This is written as a celebration of reaching 300 followers.

Expect the unexpected || 🥀 💙 🔥 At the start, you and Bucky were colleagues and good friends. This all changed drastically when you had a fun night together, and both got more out of it than you'd bargained for. Unsure of how Bucky would react, you keep it to yourself until you can't take it any longer.

Perfect coincidence || 💙 You find yourself in a rainstorm and seek refuge in a warm-looking coffee shop. When there's only one table left, you share it with a handsome stranger who introduces himself as Bucky Barnes and his fluffy white cat, Alpine. What started as one of the worst days quickly became one of the best.

My favorite piece of art || 💙 You've been trying to get Bucky to model for you for the longest time. When he finally agrees, you decide to go all out and make a beautiful painting of him to highlight everything you love about him. When he sees the end result, he can't help but joke about it, but deep inside, he's very moved and touched that you did this for him.

Naughty fantasies || 💙 🔥 Bucky has a specific fantasy he's wanted to fulfill for a while. You two have never experimented with roleplaying before, but when he brings up the idea of a Student-Teacher roleplay, you're instantly on board with every last fantasy he has. Though it might not be in the way you had initially thought... This is written as a celebration of reaching 500 followers.

Birthday Confession || 💙 Bucky never really cared for his birthday, but he suddenly had a different outlook since you came into his life. As long as he can spend it with you—the sweet, soft-spoken neighbor he secretly harbors a major crush on— and his cat, Alpine, he's happy. However, when everything takes a turn this year, you're both turning it into a birthday he'll never forget.

Yours, Forever | 🥀 💙 🔥 | ON HIATUS

Winters Daughter | 🥀 💙 | UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Teachers Universe | 🥀 💙 🔥 | ON HIATUS

Babysitting duty || 💙 A good friend of yours has asked you to babysit for him while he is away, and you couldn't be more excited about it. You didn't tell Bucky since it was such last minute, but he absolutely adores the little girl you're babysitting, and couldn't be happier to see how good you are with kids.

Bucky's Big Birthday Bash || 🥀 💙 🔥 You've been secretly planning Bucky's birthday, and even though he said he wanted to keep it small, you're gonna give him the best party he has ever had after missing out on 70 years of birthday parties.

Crossing the line || 🔥 Bucky has taken you out on a date, and you have decided to tease him. When you take it too far, Bucky completely loses all of his composure and shows you a side of him you've never seen before.

Trick or treat! || 💙 Your son is very excited to go trick or treating and insists on dressing up like Iron Man. With the help of Tony, he gets the best costume he could ever wish for, and he couldn't be happier. On Halloween night, he decides to pull a small prank on you, and it warms your heart to see your boy in his element, right alongside your husband, Bucky.

[sokayisaidiot]

Why Tommy is one of THE BEST written characters in existence.

Alright, that’s it

Here I give you my fuckin Take on why Tommy is one of the best written characters out there and can easily compete with best-selling Novels like Percy Jackson and Harry Potter. I’m sick of a trashing that doesn’t even make sense. So buckle up. Here I will tell you why Tommy has one of the best written characters in history of Books and Movies. Remember, I write this all in my perspective and take many examples of other character books as well

Before this all starts, I will also talk about the main characters of some series, since Tommy has the reputation of being a “main” character.

When I look at the books I’ve read, I see a large range of characters and there way of making the story interesting.

Now, to establish a good character, we need key points of motivations, to make them relatable and bla bla blub:

Personality

Part of the story

Their Powers

Flaws

Relationships

Prized Possessions

History/the backstory

The moral and story the character tells

First tho, I want to explain some words I’m going to use here!

Mary Sue/Gary Stu:

Those are characters who are flawless, have missing chunks of personality and mostly one way written. They are easy to achieve when you are trying to make your character look badass.

Examples in some Fandoms are

·      Rey Skywalker (Star Wars Sequels 7-9)

·      Hermione Granger (Harry Potter Movies)

·      Bella Swan (Twilight)

Tree-System:

Imagine a tree. You plant something small and soon you have something giant with many branches, roots and connections. You have the seed you plant and with caring and care you let it grow. Then you have somewhat a sapling. The tree grows with the care and soon you have a tree with many branches.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Personality

Negative:

Tommy’s personality is very brash and out of control = He’s barely containable in fights, going off to do his own risky plans and starting two or so fights. He can’t forgive a person very easily like Eret, who took it a long time to get forgiveness and Techno, as he shot Tubbo at the Festival. He makes decision that also cost his life like the duel because he hates losing

Tommy can be very lazy, giving the thought he wouldn’t have to do the hard work = Shown when he tries to steal the hearts of seas from Eret or potions from Techno, bargain with “drugs” by Puffy and Ponk or gives other people the work he doesn’t want to do like he did with getting cobblestone

Like a child, he often clings to close people and annoys others for attention = His desperate attempts to have company or someone praising him shows, when he tries to get Philza’s approval (or a pat on the back), constantly looking out, if Tubbo’s either okay or where his is,

He doesn’t like to wait or doing things in the long run = He constantly asks when something is finished, when they could go or in his exile, when he was allowed to go back to L’Manburg

He doesn’t show often his cooled down, scared and vulnerable side = He often overshadows his trauma with a facade of jokes and bad hidden hurt he brings out. When he talks about something bad, he’s clearly confused, not really knowing on how to understand it. Also he runs away from things he can’t control a panic attack like visiting the final control room or looking away from the holes in Logstedshire

He runs without head into a battle so often as possible = Only when they had their final showdown for the disc, Tommy was seen preparing in story, thinking it would be his last fight

---

Positive:

But as he has negative traits, his positive shows to many people clearly.

His unwavering loyalty to the closest of people = His loyalty to Tubbo, Wilbur And L’Manburg are, were and always will be a part of him. He stands against anyone who goes against that, even if it means pain in many ways.

Passionate about dear projects of his = You can see Tommy talking about his discs or see an video where he would spent days getting different discs. Those things are very known to be rare things, so for Tommy to possess it gives him somewhat power. L’Manburg was the same passion, even a bit more, as you can see he was ready to give up his most prized disk. The last and in the moment is his hotel

Bravery like no one makes him as one of the dangerous person on peoples hitlist = He stands up for others. He stood up to L’Manburg. He in the end didn’t care that he lost a life. When he sees a foe, he won’t stand down and submit, he will fight against the oppression and tell them that in the face. During the mission to get a visa, he stood against Schlatt, even if they were clearly in the loose of people and disadvantage. Or getting an apology of Sapnap for killing Niki’s fox. Fighting against 5 people with just one ally while the other is a hostage.

His leadership = There are not many people who can take it up, but Tommy is an exception. He can coordinate people with his loud voice and somewhat thought plans. He is charismatic, even if he’s not so good at it like Wilbur, he still can motivate people to fight for themselves or others. He’s seen to lead others into battle and taking in the fighting part a leading role

Unselfish. That’s one of the most arguable things about Tommy`s character = You can´t look at a kid and say he is selfish because he wants to get something dearly back. Especially Tommy, after he gave the things up, he cared about. But if something is happening again, he will lay it down to do the other thing. As seen by the egg, he had a hard time thinking what to do. He, in a long time, didn’t want to be catalyst for something to happen. Not when he in the moment could have stopped it. So doing this act for himself ones, was a good decisions, since they clearly weren’t ready for war

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part of the Story

Outside of the story:

Let’s all just get something “straight”. What would Dream SMP without Tommyinnit. Now. Don’t get me wrong. All the creators on the SMP are amazing. They are all wonderful and deserve every bit of Attention and fame they get. But just imagine.

We heard from Tubbo, he was the one, who got him into the SMP. Schlatt and Wilbur came because of a “visit”. Quackity was added because TOMMY said he was bored. And from that, we got somewhat of a tree system. As Tommy was invited and drawn into conflict by Sapnap (shoutout to best boy!), he got more people.

He also has the highest viewership and kind of shortest streams, since he is doing college next to Youtube and Streaming. He can’t give up his high viewers since all of those 200.000 (average) – closing 650.000 People (doing something like a big lore stream in prison or the disc final), choose to watch him.

Also a reminder again, Tommy has his storyline as does everyone else. When we saw Tommy and Techno during the partner up arc doing something with the dogs, they saw the start of the red vines arc BUT said they were on the wrong storyline. Tommy was asked by the eggpire writers if he wanted to be a part of the story and he said yes. Why do you think he nearly says nothing about the egg. He leaves it to the writers. Also, it was said by one of Wilbur’s Character descriptions, that Tommy was okay with others doing something with his character, while Techno was more reluctant with his.

Let me say it again, every creator is awesome and individual! Nobody should be compared to others. But with Tommy coming to the Dream SMP, there really was a change in the game.

Remember, that’s because we also have a BT (before Tommy) and AT (after Tommy) Timestamp in the wiki!

Inside of the story:

Now, with Sapnap, Alyssa, Ponk and Tommy in the first ever big conflict its shown the importance. People assume Tommy is one of the conflict bringers, even though he was dragged in it by having something stolen by Sapnap and then forced to fight with him, to get it back.

The Consequences he’s got where having his discs get stolen. This is what Tommy’s biggest character motivation was the first two seasons. Those discs are known on the server and when you think about gifting something to C!Tommy, it would be a disc.

Techno = Disc Wait

Badboyhalo = Disc Pigstep, Chirp

HBomb = Disc Pigstep, Wait

Tubbo = Stal

LazarBeam = Far

Tommy is a openminded boy who longs for funny little adventures and pranks, since he is just a young person. It’s in his nature.

So why, when he does something, are people looking on him?

Because the things he was and is a part of some of the biggest events. And him being so loud and brave and rash lets him stand out. If you look at the old (hah) Revolution of L’Manburg, who can you hear talking the most and the loudest? Tommy and Dream. They were the most outgoing about the war with Sapnap, Tubbo and Wilbur following. Fundy was more quieter (thankfully he has so much more lore now).

Tommy’s character is known to fall or be dragged head first in almost every conflict. He has connections to who? Mostly everybody. So of course he’s connected big parts to the stories.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Powers

Okay. Every “main” character or character with huge importance to the story has some kind of power. Looking at Dream, who is a “demigod” or Ranboo who I don’t even have to talk about. So what about Tommy?

Well. He doesn’t have any. Tommyinnit is one of the people, we get to have as an “human” character

Hannah = nature “Spirit”

Karl Jacobs = Timetraveller

Antfrost, Technoblade, Ranboo, Fundy = Hybrids

Dream = Something something green blob

Awesamdude, Puffy, Philza, Sapnap, Eret, Schlatt = Adding Features (wings, eyes, body parts)

Badboyhalo, Skeppy = completely different species apparently

Tommy has, as we know of the moment, a not confirmed power. The assumptions of the egg are not clear, since we haven’t seen those interact in a while. All we know is, Tommy didn’t get hurt, destroying a part and not feeling anything, while being in contact. That in canon considered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flaws

As talked before in personality and also in an assumption, we see the pattern of loyalty and brashness repeating.

Flaws are the most important parts of a character. It shows the struggle of their adventure and learning how to live with it.

Percy Jackson learned loyalty is nothing, if you don’t have someone to project it on.

Harry Potter and Luke Skywalker learned being a hot head didn’t really bring him forward and it’s important to have a plan

Frodo Beutlin learned that it is okay taking care of yourself and what attachment means

Anakin Skywalker learned fear is controllable and it shouldn’t be a remaining part of your life

Tommy learned over the time that his rashness could hurt others, loyalty couldn’t come back to him like he gave it out and he learns even more in the coming future.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Relationships

Tommy’s relationships is a mess of strings. Some are badly knotted and some are very clear.

A characters connections is an important part for the character himself.

Relationships in life are

·      Enemies(-figure)

·      Rivals(-figure)

·      Friends(-figure)

·      Family(-figure)

·      Lover(-figure)

·      Complicated family(-figure)

·      Complicated friend (-figure)

Relationships are a part of everyone’s life. Not with everybody is a good relationship holdable. Either it’s because their hurting each other or another person. People change and that’s a part of life.

Tommy realized, even tho it hurt, that Techno wasn’t good for his mental state and health. It went against everything Tommy ever stood for.

And Tommy and Tubbo’s relationship wasn’t really that broken. It’s normal for friends to fight. Normal for them hit their heads in. Tommy and Tubbo were surrounded with people who were, at the time, a terrible addition to their mental life.

The Dream SMP doesn’t talk it out, hell the talking club was just destroyed because they preferred fists over words. So why do you think everything is going out with a fight, if it’s all they learned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Priced Possessions

Every character has to something a connection.

Might it be Percy Jackson and his sword

Might it be Harry with his glasses, broomstick and wand

Frodo and his stupid ring

For Tommy we all know it’s his ender chest inside and secret chest. He keeps many belongings in his chests and always has been one for those things. He kept flowers, compasses, Friendship signs and most importantly, his discs.

The care for something of items are important. Might it be a teddy, old photo or jewelry. People get protective over it, because it holds sentimental value to the person.

If you ask me, to let go of my teddy bear, I will show you my middle finger. Probably beat you up too.

You can’t just throw out your memories into a fire or pit of lava. This is just showing you never had a care and everything you had a memory with it before would have been gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

History/Backstory

We don’t have much here, but still something to work with.

A Hero doesn’t have an easy live. And it’s an said thing that every Hero needs an origin Story.

Tommy, said not really anything about his past.

All we know is that Tommy didn’t have anyone, presumably an Orphan, he knew the sleepy bois already a long time ago and he never learned on how to ride a bike, saying he never really had a family.

Signs that he didn’t even leave half a good life are:

·      his knowledge on stealing and preferring this over working for it

·      Liking to live in weird spaces like carved out holes in sides of hills (his hobbit hole or the basement by Techno) or living in his tent over a hole house

·      His liking of cobblestone and dirt, which are easy gettable blocks

·      Holding his goodies and friends close to him

·      Craving for attention or contact in general

And now for the part with the dream SMP.

We saw how it changed him. We saw his trauma and all the bad things that happened to him.

And that’s why we say his actions came from those past experiences and things. We are NOT excusing them, but showing. Past trauma CHANGES a person. It brings experience and a heavy amount of pain and anger. ESPECIALLY at a young age, you will change due to your experience in life. You will grow worried and anxious. Tommy did that. He grew more anxious, angry, scared and also experienced.

Stop saying trauma doesn’t explain it. Yes. It does. His lashing out came from his past and negative experience. Imagine growing up in a world where this is the norm. War and banishing. As well as death. Tommy has reasons why he is acting and does stuff.

Understand it. You don’t have to forgive him or anything. But understand it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moral and the story the character tells us

When we see Tommy, we see a boy who went nearly through it all. Mental/Physical Abuse, Abandonment, War, Suicidal thoughts, betrayal, Death, etc…

He doesn’t show forgiveness for his abuser. Still has signs, that he fights with the past abuse, but he tells us a story of learning from past mistakes, that even in the darkest hours, there’s a way out. Things will, can and be ugly and those are dark hours, but in no way should you think that it’s over. Life is more than one way and can always turn into a new direction.

Life takes something old away from you. Life gives you something new. You lose someone, you find someone new. Friends can turn into enemies. Enemies can turn into friends. You can meet the weirdest people. You can meet the most amazing people. You can be alone and in the next second, you’re not. You will often lose, but you also can win if you give everything.

Life can be weird and that’s okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Fazit (that’s german)

The thing is, he is very real for many viewers such as myself. He acts like how many teenagers his age reacts.

He doesn’t be “baby”, because he shows the “ugly” sides of trauma. He shows that attachments are good and you shouldn’t forgive your abuser. In no way. He shows that acting out and lashing out are two things that happen, when you have been in wars for many times and nearly just know that.

He has many flaws and mistakes but those make him even more real. He is showing how he is growing.

As a person, friend, (pseudo-)family.

He is real to many of the viewer since he doesn’t have any powers that are existing in our world to solve their problems. He knows that nobody would have helped him and Tubbo against Dream if he didn’t pay others.

Also that you can’t be friends with everyone and that it’s okay that not everybody likes you.

Tommy´s character is the most human and realistic character in a way of how we would react. We are humans who are lashing out and who are having ugly sides.

And also please stop saying that, since I really can relate to Tommy and I don’t want to be feeling like a “bad-written Character”…

And Don’t even get me started on Tommy’s acting dude!

He is one of the best actors and that one livestreams! In from off 200.000 – 600.000 People!

On the face cam alone is so much to see…  

·      You can see his face with each emotion shifting,

·      when something funnily weird happens, he looks dead eyes in the camera

The voice acting…

·      His breathing,

·      the stuttering in his voice,

·      THE GODDAMN EMOTIONS IN HIS FACE

HIS MUSIC CHOICE!

·      He changes the music fitting for the situations as in fighting scenes or funny moments.

·      He also has some funny bits with his music.

·      Like a goddam DJ!

The ingame character

·      His movements and head stares

·      The jumping around when he gets overactive

·      Long stops when he thinks or is sad!

You can see, I am a person from Tumblr and saw way too much bullshit around tommys character.

Stop critiquing him so badly.

You could say, I woke up and chose violence

>:D

[chudleycanonficfest]

Heart-Shaped Wreckage

Day 16, Story #2 is by @adenei

Title: Heart-Shaped Wreckage

Author: adenei

Pairing: Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger

Prompt: Songfic

Rating: T

TW: implied violence and near-death experience (but nothing explicit)

A/N: This is the part two follow-up to Rewrite the Stars.

************

Hermione’s hand trembles as she reaches over to her nightstand and turns on the light. She can’t sleep, which is a common occurrence as of late. Where she once relished in the quiet of her flat, now the serenity is too much to bear. She is running out of changes to make that will erase the worst, most painful decision of her life. The ultra-soft linens she purchased for her bed are anything but comforting and luxurious. They feel scratchy and cold, and the fresh and clean look of the white comforter with its floral patterns gives off more of a sterile vibe than the new slate she’d been hoping for. Instead, it serves as another stark reminder that all the vibrancy and color had evaporated from her life when she pushed Ron away.

It’s been 62 days since the disaster of the Auror gala, and 50 since Hermione’s received any form of contact from him. Ron has honored her wishes to break things off no matter how much it pained them both to do so. Part of her still wishes he’d floo into her fireplace or knock on her door, begging her to give them another chance. But she knows deep down none of that will ever happen. He is a man of respect, and he will always abide by her requests, even if she no longer wants to keep them herself.

It’s better this way. She reminds herself of the constant scrutiny they’d face if they stayed together, and the hurt and discomfort even at the mere thought indicate that her feelings haven’t changed. There is no way she could put him through that sort of subjection just so she can be selfish and happy. Their lives are too different, and they live in a world where the acceptance of all kinds of love doesn't exist.

So, in the grueling months since they ended things for a second time, Hermione has worked to make changes, some drastic, some minute, in an effort to force herself to move on. She is too proud to let anyone in her life know the pain that she feels with every conscious breath that she takes. Hermione has thrown herself into her work, staying at school late to mark papers, redecorate the classroom, or develop new lesson plans to benefit the students and create more hands-on experiences.

And once she realized that her preparation was complete through the end of next term, Hermione turned to her flat. Weekends have been spent on home projects. Painting the walls, updating the decor, and cleaning every square inch of her flat, all to help her forget.

But the problem is, her heart doesn’t want to forget. Every book she sits down to read reminds her of time spent with Ron. Her renewed efforts in the kitchen never fail to bring a smile or a chuckle to her lips as her mind traitorously wonders what Ron would think if he were here to observe the barely edible mess she’s created. Yet, Hermione is not naive enough to believe that it will change anything. She knows it won’t.

As she sits up in the enormous queen-sized bed, she reaches for the parchment that lays in tri-folds on the nightstand. The paper is worn, with visible wrinkles preventing it from lying flat and tear stains causing the corners to curl as she unfolds the delicate sheet. Hermione’s not sure why she’s opening the letter to read. She knows it won’t bring her the comfort she craves or the answers she desires.

The messy scrawl gives way to Ron’s only correspondence with her since the last time they spoke, and she latches onto it as if it’s the only life preserver on a capsizing vessel. It’s the only thing she has left. The only reminder of the life she could have had.

I’m not scared to tell the truth. 

I went to hell and back and I went with you

Remind me what we were before,

When you said you are mine, and I am yours

Hermione,

There’s a lot I want to say and I’m not sure if I can fit it all in this letter, but I’m going to try. I never meant for any of this to happen, but I did mean everything I said that night. I’m not afraid to tell you how I feel. What we have, er, had, I guess, is special. I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my life, and I don’t think I ever will. And it’s not just about the case and finding comfort in each other. 

When we broke things off after graduation, I felt like a part of me was missing. The Auror academy kept me busy, and sure, my life moved on, but I wasn’t really happy. Not as happy as I was when we were together. And then fate brought us back together and we decided to make another go of it, that’s when I realized that you were what was missing. You make my life so much brighter, so meaningful, and I’m sorry if I sound like a sap, but I need you to know how I feel.

I would give up everything for you. Social status means nothing to me. If the Aurors sack me because of my personal relations, then so be it. I’ll work with George, or find something else. If my family can’t be supportive, then it will be their loss. I’m not willing to live in a world that doesn’t have you in it, and I refuse to give in to the Ministry’s stance on bloody purity. 

I know this is all probably ‘too little, too late’ or whatever that Muggle saying is that you like to use, and I promise you I’m going to respect your wishes. But I had to tell you. I had to let you know because...well...there’s this mission that’s come up. It’s going to be bloody dangerous and Robards asked for volunteers because he knows how risky it’s going to be. Anyone who goes isn’t guaranteed to come back and, well, I won’t go into the details, but I volunteered to go.

I know, I know, I can hear you in the back of my head telling me that it’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done and not to throw my life away because we’re not together, but Hermione, it’s been twelve days and I can’t go on day to day like this. I can’t. Working is the only thing that eases the pain and gets my mind off of everything. I’ll be as safe as I can be, I promise.

I hope you find the happiness you deserve. You’re brilliant, always remember that. Just know that I love you, and it’s because I love you that I’m going to try to let go.

Ron

Tears threaten in Hermione’s eyes once again. It’s no different than every other time she reads the letter. Nothing has changed; Ron’s gone, still on his mission six weeks later and no end in sight. Hermione is sure this is the reason she’s not sleeping. With every passing day and no news of Ron’s whereabouts, she turns to the only object that can provide her with any source of comfort: the letter.

After three weeks of constant worrying and bags under her eyes so prevalent that even her eight-year-old students noticed, Hermione caved and wrote to Harry. Even though they can’t be together, she knows deep down that she can still care about his well-being. 

Harry’s response had been timely and brief. He didn’t have details of the mission but reassured Hermione that no news is good news. Hermione thanked him and asked for updates if it wasn’t too much trouble. The two had been friendly in school, growing closer as her relationship with Ron blossomed as well. She didn’t expect his alliance to stray from his best friend but still appreciated his willingness to be cordial with her after everything she’d put Ron through.

“Please come home to me,” she whispers into the darkness.

Her heart aches more as her eyes hover over the parchment once more, searching for the three words that she knows she’ll never read too many times: I love you.

For some reason, this three a.m. readthrough hits differently. She carefully folds the parchment, places it back on the nightstand and turns off the light. There are still a few more hours left to find sleep.

Hermione tosses and turns as she attempts to focus on sleep and quieting her thoughts. At some point, a flash illuminates the night sky, and that’s when the pieces begin forming more vividly in her mind. The clap of thunder follows seconds later, and with it, a realization is born. As the rain begins its slow cadence of pitter-patters on the window, the brevity of Hermione’s decision hits her with the force of the storm strengthening outside.

I don’t know much, but I know myself

And I don’t want to love anybody else

So let’s break the spell and lift the curse

Remember when we fell for each other head first

There is only one question that forms in her mind. One question that surpasses any of the other thoughts she’s managed to cope with over the last two months. 

What have I done?

None of her previous attempts to move past this matter anymore, even though it’s too late, and there’s nothing she can do. 

Three days later, Hermione is finishing up her night-time routine when there’s a knock on her door. She looks at the antique clock on the wall that reads 10:45. Her heart plummets to her stomach. No one calls this late at night with good news. She stands frozen in place, amazed that the glass of water in her hand hasn’t spilled to the floor as a result of her shock.

Another knock, and Hermione manages to lift her feet from the floor. She reaches over and sets the glass on the counter before pulling her dressing gown tight around her waist. The carpet feels thick and heavy, as if her feet are wading through mud and sludge as she makes the torturous trek to the door. Five steps feel like five thousand. She’s sure all of this has happened in a matter of seconds, but it feels like minutes. Maybe the caller will be gone by the time her eye reaches the peephole.

Her hope is instantly quashed when she peers through the tiny circle to see an older gentleman that she doesn’t quite recognize at first. He’s wearing an overcoat and tan bowler hat, and is looking down at a torn piece of parchment. A pair of cerulean blue eyes drift back up to the number on her flat’s door, and that’s when the familiarity hits Hermione like a muggle slamming into the brick wall that separates platforms nine and ten at King’s Cross Station.

She can feel the blood drain from her face as dizziness overcomes her. Falling forward, she clasps onto the doorknob to steady herself. The noise catches the gentleman’s attention.

“Er, Ms. Granger. Are you home? It’s very important that I speak to you. Please, I mean no harm if you’ll open up.”

Hermione struggles to find her voice to respond. Her hands are shaking so violently that she can barely latch on to the deadbolt that has been fastened for the evening.

“Oh, er, please forgive me. We haven’t formally met, but it’s Mr. Weasley out here. Ron’s father.”

Hearing Ron’s name gives Hermione the strength that she needs to click the deadbolt to the left as she manages to turn the door handle with her other hand. Pulling the door open, she slowly looks up at the elder Weasley.

“Is—is everything okay?” Her voice is raw and weak, and she’s sure the shock is the only thing preventing the tears from pooling in her eyes.

“Er, no, it’s not. May I come in?” His eyes dart around, as if he doesn’t want to discuss the matter out in the open.

Hermione opens the door wider to let him in and manages to shut it when he’s through the entryway. Her free hand fiddles with her wand that’s still inside her pocket—just in case—though she fears no imminent threat from Ron’s father.

"Ms. Granger, I’m sorry for calling so late. I wouldn’t be here at all, actually, if it wasn’t for Harry mentioning—ah, well, that’s no matter...” 

Mr. Weasley is rambling, and Hermione has trouble processing his words. Her breath catches at the mention of Harry’s name, which draws Mr. Weasley’s attention to her, helping him get to the point of his late-night visit.

“Ron’s been gravely injured. He’s at St. Mungo’s now. They brought him in an hour or so ago. Molly and I met Harry and Ginny there as soon as we heard. He’s stable for now, but the Healers are unsure if it will hold.” 

Hermione grasps the back of the couch to keep from collapsing to the ground. A sob bursts from her throat as the tears that threatened moments ago now spill freely down her cheeks.

“Wh-what happened?” 

The words are spoken with great effort.

“We don’t have many details. The Aurors are still trying to clean up loose ends on the mission, but it sounds like the operation was successful thanks to Ron’s efforts. One of the target’s accomplices hit Ron with an unknown spell before he was caught.”

Even through Hermione’s own devastation, she can hear the tremor in Ron’s father’s voice. He’s scared, though he’s hiding it well as he continues to explain what he knows. There’s a sheen in his eyes as the moisture appears, emotions raw as he finishes bringing Hermione up to speed.

“Everyone was apprehended, and Ron appears to be the only one who got hurt. We should know more in the coming hours.”

Hermione can only offer a blank stare as she processes the information. His letter said it would be a dangerous mission. He didn’t sound as if he was hopeful that he’d come back alive. Or maybe he was hoping—no, don’t think like that. It was her fault that he’d gone in the first place. By some miracle, he was still hanging on, and the haziness of Hermione’s previous decisions about their relationship begins to give way. The fact that his father is there in her flat informing her has to mean something.

“Why are you here?”

It comes out harsher than Hermione intends, but after their less than amicable meeting at the gala, Hermione can’t be bothered with pleasantries. Even if his wife’s behavior was ruder than his own.

The older man pulls out a handkerchief and wipes beads of sweat off his brow as he sighs deeply. 

“Ms. Granger—”

“Hermione.”

“Right, yes, Hermione. I am aware that we did not get off on the right foot. I’m sorry I never introduced myself on the night of the gala. We weren’t expecting Ron to have a date. I’ll admit that Molly and I were ignorant in the way we treated you that night, and for that, I am sorry. Nothing can take back our words, nor can it change the way others view you based on your blood status, but please know how wrong we were. 

“Ron was devastated after you broke things off after the gala, and I suppose that was largely due to our behavior. It’s clear to us how much he loves you, and we don’t want to stand in the way of that. So, when Harry mentioned you had asked for news and wanted to come tell you, I insisted that I should be the one to see you. Please don’t let our ignorance stand in the way of your happiness.”

Hermione stands there, listening to Arthur’s apology. While she appreciates the olive branch, part of her can’t help but feel that it’s too little, too late, and a new wave of tears flood her eyes as she sees those exact words in Ron’s letter. She offers a curt nod to let him know she appreciates the gesture, even as her voice can’t find the words.

“I won’t keep you. I should be getting back, but Ron is in room 408. You are on the approved list as a family member if you decide you want to see him, and Molly’s agreed to let you stay with him if you’d like.” 

Arthur gives a weak nod as he dabs his forehead once more before making his way to the door. It takes Hermione a moment to realize what’s happening, and as soon as everything processes, she’s pushing herself off the back of the sofa and calling out to Arthur.

Look at this heart shaped wreckage

What have we done?

We’ve got scars from battles nobody won

We can start over, better

Both of us know if we just let the broken pieces

Let the broken pieces go

“I’m coming! Please, er, if you don’t mind waiting. I just need to get changed—”

“Of course.”

Arthur offers a paternal smile as Hermione rushes into her bedroom and throws on the first thing she can find. She almost forgets to grab her bag as she throws on her coat and locks the door behind her.

Moments later, they’re entering St. Mungo’s, and Mr. Weasley leads the way through the main hall to the lifts. It’s only as the gate shuts that nerves begin to bubble up in her stomach. She’s been running on the adrenaline of the news, and now she can’t help but wonder how the rest of Ron’s family will react when they see her. Or, what’s worse, how Ron will react if and when he wakes up.

When. It has to be when.

As if sensing her trepidation, Mr. Weasley places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The lift opens, and the first person she sees is Harry in the waiting room. Her feet gravitate toward him of their own accord, and when Harry sees her, he meets her halfway and wraps her in a tight hug.

“He’s going to be okay. He has to,” Harry whispers in her ear.

Hermione nods, forcing her brain to believe his words. When they let go, Ginny hugs Hermione next, which helps her feel more relaxed. 

Maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

After one final squeeze, Ginny lets go so Hermione can follow Arthur down the hall to Ron’s room. He opens the door, and Hermione enters the sterile, white room. The most color she sees is his shock of red hair against the fluffy white pillow that’s cradling his head. Her heart begins beating faster as she spots his mum sitting vigil at his side. 

Mrs. Weasley looks up to see the two standing there. A hard, stony look immediately sets on her face in defense before it softens slightly. She stands and walks over to Hermione. She knows that she’ll have a harder time winning over the Weasley matriarch based on this interaction, but if Ron wakes up—and will take her back—she’s willing to do anything to make it work.

“Let’s give her some privacy, Molly. The healers will call us in if he wakes up,” Arthur coaxes his wife out of the room as he gives Hermione one last reassuring smile.

When the door closes behind them, Hermione walks up to the chair Molly was perched at and takes a seat. She moves the chair closer to the bed as she observes Ron in his sleeping state. A tear slips down her face as her hand reaches out to take his. It isn’t cold, but it’s also not as warm as she’s used to.

“Please wake up. You have to wake up,” she pleads, choking back a fresh wave of tears.

I can’t find you in the dark

Will we get back to who we are?

And I can’t fix this on my own

Our love is still the best thing I’ve ever known

She’s not sure how long she sits there, watching his chest slowly rise and fall as he breathes. No matter how hard she tries, Hermione can’t look away, for fear that his breathing might stop if she does. She’s so focused on his chest, that she doesn’t see his eyes flutter open. 

“Er-my-nee.” 

His voice is breathy, with more rasp than she’s used to, but she’d have given all the gold in her Gringotts vault to hear her name on his lips again if she had to. He lifts the hand that she’s holding, and Hermione leans in closer to press her face into it.

“You came,” he whispers.

Unable to contain herself any longer, she lifts off the seat and leans over him, capturing his lips with hers. They’re cracked and dry, no doubt from being undercover in who knows what kind of conditions, but none of that matters. Ron’s alive, and he’s kissing her back.

Look at this heart shaped wreckage

What have we done?

We’ve got scars from battles nobody won

We can start over, better

Both of us know if we just let the broken pieces

Let the broken pieces go

“I’m so sorry.” The apology seems frail as she mutters the words against his lips.

His other hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear and wipe the tears from her face. “It’s okay.”

“Don’t ever do something that stupid again.”

“Only if you give me a reason not to.”

Let the broken pieces go

Just hold on to each other tonight

“I will, I promise.”

She pulls away to look into his tired, bright blue eyes that carry the hope she feels in her chest.

“Does that mean…?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know what life is going to throw at me, Ron, but I only want to take it if you’re by my side.”

“It’s about time you came to your senses.”

The hand that’s still cupping her cheek adjusts to pull her back to him as he does his best to crash his lips into hers for a searing, though still tender, kiss. His breath is hot as he groans against her mouth, solidifying their reunification. There’s an unspoken agreement to let the broken pieces of the past go. 

Tonight, they’ll start over, rewriting the stars to match their love story the way it’s meant to be.

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

Black Pear Tree

Partially inspired by @bellygunnr ’s fic and descriptions of the atrium on the Infinity, have a bunch of words that came from me listening to Black Pear Tree on repeat for a week. It got sad and also somehow turned into 1500 words. This is between Canon halo 4 and 5 before the Argent Moon mission and Something has happened Offscreen, that may be revealed later. Very early in the au timeline.

-

The stars visible through the atrium window of the UNSC Infinity look nothing like the ones that shone above Reach. 

The constellations are wrong and the branching arm of the Milky Way lights up the sky in warm hues. Reach was different. Clear skies and a deep ocean of space as the backdrop for pinpricks of light sparkling through the rich tapestry of blue-black. 

Reach had mountain ranges and wind and so much greenery. Here there was no wind, just cycled air, mimicking the feeling of a breeze on his naked face. The bench beneath him creaked under his weight as he leaned back and took in the view. Stars overhead and greenery around him, yes, but the cold gray walls that enveloped the space reminded him where he was. Another ship, another steel coffin. The Infinity was massive. The lead ship of her class and called the culmination of human achievement. John had hesitantly begun to think of her as home. But that didn’t change the lessons he had learned again and again. Spartans didn’t win in space. Equipment could fail.

The unfamiliar constellations winked at him, distant and cold. He wondered if the stars above Reach would fade from his mind like the stars he saw as a child had. John couldn’t remember much from before the coin toss, and he had told himself that was fine. 

There was the mission, and the next one. He had his orders and would follow them and complete his missions his own way before marching back into cryo and waiting for the next time they needed him. He’d face down the cold, claustrophobic embrace and dreamless darkness. Mendez had pushed him to lead his Spartans to victory. He was fine to keep moving. Insurrectionists, Covenant, Flood, Forerunners, Banished. There was always a new threat, never a moment’s rest and he needed to be ready. John was a Spartan and team leader. He was the first to try the armor, first to jump into battle, and now he’s always last. Out of place and out of time, years and people gone that he could never get back. His own teammates were almost strangers.  

He was an aging spartan, a relic compared to the new blood. They may be undisciplined and cocky, but soon they’d have to do. 

Too many fast thaws and hard landings. Ceramic bones didn’t stop joint pain. A huff escapes him as he comes back to himself, incredibly aware of the bench beneath him digging into tired muscle and aching bones. He’s slowed enough that introspection caught up. John has tried to shove it all back down, but this isn’t an enemy he can beat. It’s him. His body and mind catching up and taking stock. Apparently constant repression of trauma and loss does not lead anywhere good. He’s listless and agitated when they don’t let him go on missions and after the altercation, he’s shipbound. 

Some days he wants to scream and break things, and other times he wants it all to stop. 

Most days, he just wants the familiar back. Even when he knew deep down it was bad, he knew how to get through it. He has to beat this somehow. It’s hurting his team and making him lose control and confidence. So he sits in the memorial park and hopes that he can breathe and ground himself. John lists the names he can remember in his head, feels the earth under his feet, and imagines the cycled air is a breeze and not recycled air from a pump keeping them all alive in this metal coffin. 

He wonders if his therapist would call what he’s doing processing or moping. Their next session is still a few days away, and he isn’t cleared to use the gyms yet. Roland is kind enough to check on him during his nightly patrols when he can’t sleep, but the atrium is his space. Even Blue Team knows to let him be when he comes here. Kelly will still be nearby, planning her runs so she can keep an eye on him without smothering him. 

He’s about to leave when he hears quiet cursing and rustling branches off in the distance. 

As he stands he spots two gardeners struggling with a large sapling, and he heads over without really thinking about it.

“Move it, Harris, but be careful of the root cluster! I swear if--” They stop as they notice him approaching. Harris still has their back to him, but is quick to set the tree down in the freshly dug hole and turn and salute, for some reason. “Harris, what the hell are you doing?” Harris has left them with all of the tree’s weight as it tips back towards them. “What’s it look like, Murphy? I’m saluting! You never know who’s on a ship this big, gotta show respect.” Harris spits over his shoulder, before realizing he’s left Murphy wrestling with the weight of the tree. John watches him turn and jump to help Murphy, and moves closer as they both attempt to move the sapling. 

“Need help?” He asks, voice rough and quiet. The gardeners pause, and share a look before answering at the same time.

“Sure!”

“No, we’ve got it, sir.” 

Harris and Murphy scowl at each other, but before it goes any further, John reaches over and lifts the sapling. He straightens it with ease, before lowering it slowly into place. They scramble out of the way to secure it and fill in the gaps with soil. He breathes in the scent of growth and damp earth and relaxes slightly. It’s a little overwhelming without the filters from the armor. Once again he’s struck by all the green, and the new growth he has clutched in his grip. Its bark is thin and young, but digs into his palm all the same. 

“What kind is it?” John asks them as they finish filling the hole and set up a support stake near the sapling. He’d been on so many planets and seen so many trees, they all blurred together, but this one was sticking out. Old memories blur like static on a corrupted message with flashes of afterimages burned into his brain.  

“It’s one of those cedars from Reach, bit like Earth’s trees, but hardier.” Harris answers as he dusts himself off and Murphy collects their gear. “Got several different species from Reach.”

He points towards a copse of trees near where the path forked. Harris hasn’t noticed that John froze at the mention of Reach, but Murphy had. They had finished gathering the gear, and walked up to grab Harris before he started again. “Thanks for your help, Uh--” Murphy hesitates.

“John.” He chokes out. He’s still staring at the tree. His hands still touching the bark.  “Thank you, John. Harris and me will be on our way. Take all the time you need, sir.” They drag Harris away by the elbow. Harris shoots one more confused look over his shoulder and waves before they both disappear around the bend. 

John inhales and holds it for a moment. He traces the bark, eyes falling on the patterns of the bark and the faded augmentation scars. Reaching up, he touches the fragile young leaves with unsteady hands. New growth from a dead planet. A swell of complicated emotion rises in his gut and he huffs a breath through his nose. 

Growth and change. He was sick of those words being thrown at him. Progress slipped from his grasp and felt no closer to leaving this prison of a ship than when he started. Confined to the Infinity and pacing his newest cage left him both claustrophobic and exposed. No missions meant no armor, and his access to hangars and other access points was restricted so he couldn’t even watch his marines come and go on missions. 

Blue Team had stopped accepting missions in some twisted sense of solidarity. They weren’t under the same orders, the same punishment. Of course not, they didn’t --, he didn’t mean--

They didn’t put themselves in the infirmary. He did.

John pulls his hands away before he damages the sapling. He’s shaking and his heart is pounding in his ears.

It’s a small thing, probably only a few years old, so it never saw Reach itself. Never stood near the tree where Blue Team stood and Sam carved their mark. 

They had been so young. 

And then decades later, they returned with one missing. A new mark carved into the glassed wasteland that was once their home.

Will you trust me now? Will you follow me?

He had asked them that, and then he almost killed them all. Working himself to death and dragging them down with him. 

How could he ask them to follow him now? 

John couldn’t. Maybe Master Chief could, but he hadn’t been seen in weeks. 

John sat next to one of the last living remnants of his home and looked up at unfamiliar stars. 

[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL- DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES

Lily's dark red hair could have actually been set ablaze and she wouldn't have noticed as she held Remus' gaze, her hand held out expectantly. Careful of each move he made, he passed it to her like a loaded gun, all eyes now on her as she started in as clear a voice as she could manage. She cared about Sirius like her own adopted, annoying as piss little brother, but only for the past three years or so. She had not a clue how to help any of them with a grief ten times her own, but damn it all, she was going to read her part and hope the universe would just do one kind thing for her and let this be the chapter with an answer already, they weren't going to last much longer without finding out what happened to him!

Harry got clumsily onto his horse, hampered by the beast still trying to lick his robes.

"Snack for the road," Sirius agreed.

"You really are lucky these things have been dealing with Hagrid all their life, otherwise that would be going an entirely different way," Remus muttered, but since they were all right next to each other they heard anyways and simply chose to ignore him.

He tried to get comfortable on the boney back, finding little notches behind the wing joints he could secure his feet in.

"You've even got practice from Buckbeak," James agreed, hardly believing his own words, that this was his son's life.

Around him, Neville was clinging to the Thestrals neck threatening to strangle the beast though it seemed not to mind, Luna was sitting sidesaddle as if she did this every day,

"Maybe she does," Sirius shrugged, now picturing her house with a herd of unicorns on the property, it fit her anyways.

while the other three were watching them with open mouths.

"I can imagine," Lily agreed. Even with Harry's descriptive depictions of them, all she could see in her mind was three of them apparently sitting on top of nothing, and sympathizing more with the other three.

  He impatiently asked what they were waiting for, and Ron pointed out they could hardly get on something they couldn't see.

Luna slipped off with ease and guided them each to one, helping them feel secure before she got back astride her own.

Ron kept running his hand along the silky mane, stating how mad this was, if only he could see it this would be slightly less mad!

Harry told him he'd better hope they stayed invisible.

Lily spluttered as she looked around desperately to him, but Harry couldn't find it in him to apologize for the bleak words, as he still wasn't sure if they remained true.

Then he told his Thestral to head to the Ministry of Magic, visitors entrance in London.

There was only a moment's hesitation, before he was launched into the air to a bright red sunset.

Harry couldn't feel that errant fascination. He could picture it, sitting around trying to pick their brains apart wondering the how's and why's a Thestral was able to do this, a magical ability or some inner bred trait...but he could not find the words to start anything of the sort.

On they soared, the air tearing through them at high velocity as the castle quickly faded in the background, the Thestrals taking them across wide mountains and soon even across tiny villages.

Ron was still shouting for all to here how bizarre this was, and Harry imagined it would be worse for those who were seemingly going along with this without support.

"Oi, Prongs, what about an invisible broom?" Sirius launched at him what was clearly an old thing between them, Sirius loved offering him new broom designs even if they only did appear on paper for now.

James still had to take a slow, careful breath to make sure he wouldn't start panicking again if he unclenched his throat before agreeing, "I can't believe we never thought of that. As often as we lived under the Cloak."

Night fell, the world around them turning into nothing but a sea of lights whenever they passed over a town now, and Harry cared nothing for it, still more concentrated on his scar and any foreign feelings. He still had nothing to go on, no jubilation or triumph, not even the burn he'd felt when Mr. Weasley had been attacked.

Lily's eyes burned, her throat like its own heavy weight trying to force her not to say those words. She just didn't want to believe this was happening...

Time flew by as fast as the beasts, who barely flapped their wings as fast as they traveled.

Sirius clenched his fists, it was getting harder all the time to hold onto his acceptance of this happening to him. Last time Harry had gone through a sensation like this he'd been speeding towards Order headquarters, to safety, now he was pelting into danger all for him, it wasn't right he'd never seemed to have done anything for Harry's life except cause him more trouble.

Harry's inner mind still arguing back and forth if he had time...but Sirius was still fighting, he could feel it; but if Sirius cracked...he'd know!

Lily could only read Harry's internal fight in a whisper, her voice would go no stronger, he just had to be right, Sirius would be okay...

This went on until the new sensation of the Thestral leaning down, and Harry slid forward almost onto its neck at such a fast descent.

Sirius muttered anxiously, as if he'd been hoping Harry would never get to this point. The others ignored him. Despite the fear clinging to them for Harry finally arriving, this had been what they'd been wanting, hoping for, Harry was going to save him just like he had so many others.

He thought he heard a shriek behind him and twisted around dangerously,

Lily's eyes nearly fell out of her head she jumped so hard, kept reading fast as she could, she knew Harry wasn't collapsing on himself just by her forceful tone, the promise of an immediate answer.

but could see no sign of a falling body . . . presumably they had all received a shock from the change of direction, just as he had.

Harry had still shook anew as he all too easily pictured it, that really could have been one of his friends and what would he have done? Stopped trying to get Sirius and go help them? The question was unbearable with no answer.

The lights below were flooding his vision now, coming in quickly until buildings were discernable, and then the Thestral gave a surprisingly light landing right next to the old vandalised telephone box.

James was having to fight off the urge to start screaming in frustration all over again. Of the last time Harry had been here, and how this was somehow unbelievably worse, far more precious than school expulsion.

Ron stumbled off of his at once, staggering around as if drunk while muttering never again, only to collide with yet another Thestral he couldn't see and stating never, ever again!*

Sirius' whole body was still shaking, and he wanted to pretend just for a moment it was all for Ron's unintentional humor right there at the poor lads expense.

Hermione and Ginny got off with just a bit more dignity, while the other three dismounted and looked at Harry expectantly, Luna asking what next as if this were a day trip.

"I really do like this one," Sirius politely informed Harry. "You clearly need her around more, never met a more level headed person."

Harry gave him an even look, considering no one had seemed to appreciate Hermione trying to keep her head while he was losing his, but the difference was fair, Luna was going along while keeping herself in check where as to them it felt as if Hermione was only hurting them more than helping them until it came down to it.

He gave his Thestral a quick, grateful pat,

Remus felt somewhere in him the gratitude as well, never failing to notice Harry's care for creatures that many wouldn't have given a passing glance to in this situation.

and went over to the telephone box, all of them cramming inside, and Ron having to bend his arm awkwardly to reach it while Harry told him the numbers to activate it.

"How on Earth did you remember that almost a year later?" Sirius demanded.

"It was a rather memorable day," Lily reminded when Harry's jaw was trembling too hard to figure his own response.

The welcoming voice greeted them and again asked who they were and to state their business.

Harry prattled off who all was in here quickly,

"Would have been an awkward moment if you'd suddenly realized you didn't know someone's last name," Sirius pointed out.

"Padfoot I swear-" James scowled at him for the near constant interruptions now when he just wanted to hear of him walking back out of this place.

Sirius just smirked, he wasn't going to stop and Prongs wasn't going to make him, his talking was the most reassurance he could offer them he was fine.

Remus sadly chose to indulge him as well, saying, "I'm just impressed Harry didn't try to say it was only him. It wouldn't have worked, the magic would register them all, but it's interesting he's not even thought of cheating the system even now."

"Truly Lily's Fawn," Sirius chuckled, never having more appreciated the blend of his best mate and the wife in this kid, and all the more fascinated he'd grown as such without having them around.

and said they were trying to save someone unless the Ministry wanted to do it first!

"Don't encourage them," Lily shivered, as that's all they needed, to get Sirius out of one danger only for him to be executed on the spot by some Ministry fool.

The voice thanked them and let six pins slide out of the slot again, Harry saw the top most one said his name and Rescue Mission.

Sirius managed an awkward kind of laugh they had a badge for that, though he was sure it was much simpler and the voice only reprinted the 'business.'

He was again warned to have his wand checked in the Atrium, and the moment Harry impatiently agreed the lift was moving.

Down below, the great hall was empty, not a soul in sight, even the grates had gone dark.

Lily's innards gave another squeeze, the pain as if fresh all over again. The visitors entrance should have been closed after visiting hours, the security guard should have at once noted their entrance. Impossibly, this was feeling more dangerous by the word.

Harry was once again wished a pleasant evening by the woman's voice,

"So do I," Sirius muttered, unable to think of the consequences if they weren't.

and the door opened to the great sight of the fountain.

"I have been wondering what Hermione would think of that thing," Sirius mock cheered.

James wrapped his arm tight around Sirius, to pull him in even closer, and try to muffle him for just a moment.

Harry disregarded it and ran right past, also going straight to the lifts without being stopped because the guards seat from before was vacant.

Whatever composure Sirius had once held finally slipped away, his breath came out in a hiss that may well have been his last. "Hermione was right."

"Sirius?" James demanded in concern.

"This is a set up," Lily was almost too horrified to whisper the words. "There should always be someone there!"

"Why?!" Remus rasped, his voice far more hoarse than after any full moon as this set in.

"I don't know," Sirius murmured, eyes locked on Harry's. It was a miracle if his pup could even hear them; he was stiff, pale, and looked in far more pain than they'd yet seen him which was really saying something. It terrified them all, that Harry had been set up and Sirius was the key in this happening, and they had just as many answers to this as they did if Sirius was going to be okay!

It made them all realize at once though, this was why Sirius hadn't yet been cast off as no use for whatever Voldemort wanted him to get, because Sirius wasn't supposed to be the one getting it. Somehow, he needed Harry for this, and Voldemort was just playing with a new toy in the meantime until Harry got there. The moment he arrived though...kill the spare, echoed in the back of all their minds so loud Voldemort could have been standing in the room hissing it for their ears.

Harry felt sure there should have been, and it felt ominous as he pushed the down button, the lift arriving causing far more noise than he remembered, the din would surely raise every alarm in the building.

'Normally it would have,' Remus found the urge somewhere in him to agree, but it helped nothing to still his thready heart beats. If even there was someone at the Ministry, it would only be another spare now...every single person with Harry somehow felt in even more danger than before this trap had been sprung.

Yet when they made it to the Department of Mysteries, the doors opened, still no one was there. Finally, after all those months, he was in person walking to the plain black door.

Harry's grip was turning bruising on his own head, he looked likely to rip his own ear off in moments. The deep feeling gnawing at him all year, warning of this place had finally come full front in understanding. He pleaded with his mind to take it back, he wouldn't make this mistake again, but as always, his pleas went ignored.

The others followed without question, Luna's mouth opened slightly gazing around.

Sirius found an odd noise pushing against his vocal cords, like a laugh did want to come through at Luna's reaction to all this.

He stopped just in front of the door, saying maybe they should have a look out-

"I get what you're trying to do," James shivered, his eyes still hardly following along in here less than ever even as he kept the minimal focus on what was being said, yet always feeling each word with the intensity of the answer he needed. "I wouldn't find it a good idea though Harry, being separated at a time like this when you have no clue if Voldemort's alone in there..." His voice failed, his own words weren't enough to convey whom he suddenly feared could be in there, simply watching all this happen. Harry had been bad enough, a genuine stab in his heart, but if he was in there...

All refused this idea, and Harry said no more about it as he pushed the door open, and stepped over the threshold.

'Shouldn't that have been locked?' Harry's mind pushed that thought so violently into his consciousness he curled into himself all over again, just wishing all this pain away. His dreams, for almost a year now, had always shown him nothing but this until much later, when something had changed and it was all too twisted together for him to understand the difference now...

Lily was struggling to grasp how Harry had done it. She was a fine tuned mess just imagining all this, she'd have been running forward and screaming for him, but then she supposed, that's how she felt right now just hearing about this. In fights with Death Eaters, against Voldemort himself, there had been no true feeling until much after the fact, and she fought for that now, some level of clear headedness Harry held in his time that seemed to be evading him in here having to relive this with them.

They were standing in a large, dark room, only lit with blue torches, the ceiling and floor indiscernible from each other so that they may have been standing in an endless dark water.

Some nerve ending not yet connected in his mind gave a hard thump at the reminder, far too lost in the background of memories yet collected to even be registered at a time like this.

Harry told the last person to close the door behind them, and instantly regretted it.

"Why?" Remus demanded.

"To not be caught from behind," Harry said slowly, though it was getting harder by the moment to stay in the moment of answering even the simplest questions of what had been running through his mind at the time.

In his dream, Harry had always walked purposefully across this room to the door immediately opposite the entrance and walked on.

"Because it's such a comfort Voldemort knew this place well enough he knew exactly where to go, even when he couldn't get in," Sirius said bitterly.

Now though, there were doors on all sides of him, even straight across it was impossible to tell which should he have picked. Then they began to move.

With a great rumbling, the wall spun in such a blur it left blue lights imprinted into their eyes, Hermione grabbed hold of Harry in fear as if the floor would start up as well.

Some absent part of James' mind honestly wondered at a time like this if Ron would get jealous of that too. Sirius must be rubbing off on him.

As suddenly as it had started, it all stopped, and everything became stationary once again.

"How the bloody hell did you end up in a maze again?" Remus demanded before he'd even thought of his own words; while Harry finally lost his fight and cried out in pain. His dry heaves promised any moment he was going to start vomiting all over again.

"I'm sorry!" Remus gasped, he couldn't believe he'd just said that! "I'm so sorry Harry, I-"

Harry didn't hear anymore, couldn't see anything but the dark black of the endless room and a graveyard.

"Moony, you idiot," Sirius primly informed him while Harry buried his face into Sirius' shoulder.

"I-"

"Shh," James shushed him, watching his son and thinking back to the other night, Harry calling out for Sirius with such insistence. It was all too clear why now, and Remus apologizing for his mouth getting away from him was not at all going to be held against him by them.

Past Harry's own heaving mind, it took him quite some time to hear anything else, and the first thing he heard was Sirius muttering something. This was hurting like nothing before, if ever he'd had one memory he wouldn't gain back it would have been whatever was waiting at the end of this particular journey, but finally he gained some stability back in him when he leaned back and looked his godfather in the face.

Scared didn't cover it, but somehow Remus' words also left him reeling from a different kind of pain, yet a reminder all the same of what he'd lived through. He'd been so sure he was going to die that night in the graveyard and he'd been wrong then, maybe he had this all wrong and it wasn't Sirius' life in danger but his own? If he came close to death again, that could certainly be what had him so far stretched for this day. Yes, that must be it, if he somehow traded himself for Sirius and something almost happened to him, he without a doubt could handle that. He turned back to his mother and finally found in him the steadiness he'd possed when going to rescue Sirius, now that he was much more easily able to ignore the fright from his past trying to tell him what was happening.

Remus still looked miserable he'd scared Harry so bad, but at the same time they all felt more hopeful than ever for the outcome that had to be true. Harry wasn't going to let what happened to Cedric happen again, that look of determination on his face promised that, right?

Harry said in frustration he had even less of a clue which door now, but Ginny pointed out they didn't even know how to get back now; which was all too true. Every door was as unremarkable as the last, their exit blending in with the door they still had no clue which to go through in the dozen around them.

"How the bloody hell do people actually work in this place?" Harry muttered belligerently. He may be sitting at a better place, but it hardly improved his mood past grating frustration he was still in there rather than running out with his godfather and friends.

"I have no clue," Lily said honestly, though she now had every intentions of asking someone, just in case.

Harry said they'd worry about that later.

Hermione warned Harry not to start shouting for Sirius. Harry hadn't needed that advice, all his instincts were warning him to remain quiet.

James made a huffy little noise, still wanting someone nearer to blame and landing on Hermione again, why had Harry wanted her to come along again if he'd said himself he didn't need her advice.

Ron asked where they were supposed to start, and Harry began to say he didn't- but then swallowed the rest.

"Probably best not to go admitting right now I had no clue what I was doing," Harry said morosely, though no one had needed that pause explained.

Instead he explained the dream, the room they were searching for, and so they could only try whatever was next. He marched forward to a door, and it opened with ease.

"All six of you should have tried a door at once," Remus ruffled his brow as he tried to work this out. "You said there's a dozen doors, give half of them a push, and then do the others."

"I'm wondering if they even could," Sirius disagreed. "I'll bet you can't open more than one at once."

"Plus, his friends were right, they really shouldn't be separated, even like that," James shivered yet again, though he'd never quite stopped. "Probably best to all focus on one at a time."

Inside was a small rectangular room much resembling a classroom, it even had desks,

"This place gets creepier every minute," Sirius shifted restlessly, not wanting to know what kind of classes were held in there.

but instead of a desk, there was a tank at the back of the room, floating in an eerie green liquid, that housed brains.

"What?" Remus barked in disgust.

Lily's squidged up face made it clear she had not misread that as she continued.

They inched closer, but their eyes did not deceive them, several of them were floating like grotesque cauliflowers.

James could think of nothing to say to that but, "Why?"

"For you I'm sure, clearly the first one wasn't doing you any good," Sirius offered.

James shook his head in disbelief at his idiotic friend even as that did manage to make him smile just for a moment again, though a reply escaped him, far too busy trying to get Lily to go on.

Harry muttered they should get out of here, this wasn't the right place, but Ron asked if they should try one of these doors?

Harry looked around and saw he was right, even along this room were yet more doors. How big was this place?

Lily wondered if she was the only one who remembered Snape, how positive she was he'd understood Harry and had sent word of what had happened. That meant the Order should have been there by now, honestly beaten Harry here as they'd have a much faster way of it. Was this already taken care of, Sirius was fine, and now they were searching for the kids? She certainly hoped so, though her fingers cramping along the pages only tensed more with hurt this couldn't just be done with, the suspense was going to kill her faster than anything now.

Harry insisted they should stick with his dream, and he'd gone from that first room into a glittering one. This wasn't it, so they should try again.

Before this door was closed though,

"How do you close a door without a handle?" Sirius muttered.

"Close it as you leave you ding-dong," Remus huffed back, though he wasn't surprised that was a concept that escaped him.

Hermione used the spell Flagrate on it, crossing a red x on the door with her own magical fire.

Once the door was closed, the spinning began again, except now the new color was added to the mix, and was still present when the doors stopped again, showing the door they'd just tried on their left.

"That's brilliant," James didn't have a touch of grudge in his voice as he complimented this, telling his mind to stop taking this out on Hermione when she was still the only one coming up with recurring plans for this.

Harry moved onto the next door.

In this was a large stone pit, the whole room nothing but steps descending down to a raised dais with its own set of stairs leading up to an aged arch with a long dark veil fluttering as if someone had just touched it.

The fear for Sirius' life was still running rampant through Lily, but some intrigue for this place was coloring just a bit of her tone so she finally didn't feel like she was reading about an Inferi. That brain room, now this, the Department of Mysteries really lived up to its name.

She dared not glance up at Harry again when he'd finally marshaled himself into control being in here, and everyone else was still keeping one protective eye on Sirius and the other on her for some kind of change that wasn't the kids poking around. Haste still left them all twitchy with no real movement to be had in here.

So they all missed the dread flinging back into Harry, whatever sense of security he'd once had failing him again as memory of this room was replaced...

Harry jumped curiously down the steps, asking who was in here?

"What the hell is that?" Sirius muttered, his lower lip sticking out slightly as he concentrated on this alone rather than where he was possibly one door off.

"It, sounds like a lethifold," Remus began a bit curiously, explaining for Harry's benefit even as he hadn't quite noticed yet he wasn't really paying much attention to the chatter around him. "Also known as a living shroud, it honestly looks like a shadow moving, it creeps up on people in their sleep and envelopes them, they pass right through it and are never seen again, I suppose they're eaten alive. Only known defence for it is actually a Patronus, which is why they're classified so dangerous, though they don't cause the same effects as a dementor. They're mainly found in the tropics though, I suppose they could be studying this one-"

"Must you relate everything back to beasts," James muttered with a small shake to his head, wishing he had more energy to pick on Moony for this. His father used to speak of the Department of Mysteries just like Arthur did, and whatever information was passed around only spoke of how ancient the place was, possibly the whole Ministry had been built around this one area. James honestly didn't think this was something so passable as that, and he had a nagging feeling this well could be the actual center of the whole place, and he didn't at all like the sound of it.

Harry went all the way up, right to the arch, and called out to Sirius.

Sirius gave a heavy sigh as he gave Harry's shoulder a comforting squeeze, noting how hard he was trembling again and still hoping he'd appear at Harry's side any moment now so they could all get out of there.

He had the strangest feeling that there was someone standing right behind the veil on the other side of the archway.

"I somehow doubt Voldemort has me hiding behind that puny thing with him," Sirius rolled his eyes as obvious as it was possible to do to keep Harry's attention now.

Harry dragged his eyes to his godfather's face, there was a truth and a lie somewhere in there, and it was impossible to know which was what.

Hermione hissed at him there was no one in here, they should keep going, but Harry was entranced now, finding the fluttering curtain such a curious sight he wanted to go up to it and push it aside, go through the arch himself.

"Oh great, this thing is even creepier than the last thing they came across!" Remus grumbled.

"Harry doesn't go through it," Sirius shrugged with confidence for that.

"Hermione gets him away," James agreed, trying to push Lily onto that part already.

Harry was still watching Sirius, his vision shaking so bad he could have fallen into a seizure any moment and not known the difference.

This close, he was sure he could hear whispering.

"Sirius isn't there Harry," James said through gritted teeth, he couldn't understand why Harry hadn't left yet when he realized this.

Lily grasped his hand with one of hers, looking first to him before telling Harry, "it's alright love, you'll get there."

Suddenly the image of The Mirror of Erised came back to Harry clearer than ever, and he had no will to understand why.**

Hermione was being insistent now, actually trying to pull Harry from the room, but he asked the others couldn't they hear that?

Luna agreed she could, there were people in there.

Lily felt her skin crawl, and it took all of her will to repress rubbing her hands along her arms, though somehow James understood anyways and did it for her. She snuggled into his weathered hands, grateful and wondering at how he managed to spare even a second of attention for her when he still could hardly breath in fear for what was happening to his brother.

Hermione's voice was hitting desperation as she shouted there was no 'in there.'

"Hermione really doesn't like this thing," Sirius pointed out.

"She doesn't understand it, and she has no immediate way to. Of course she doesn't," James shrugged.

Remus also was getting the start of a suspicion that Hermione had another reason somewhere in there, she had no connection to this thing.

Sirius wasn't in here, and they needed to go!

Something of that finally got through to Harry, but it was harder than it should have been for him to back up. Hermione was there though to lead him back out, and he wasn't the only one. Ron had to grab Neville's arm to bring him out as well, and Hermione was holding both Luna and Ginny's hand to escort their dazed gazes.

Remus had almost thought he'd had it for a second. His original idea wasn't holding as well, but considering lethifolds attacked those while they slept, perhaps they did create some form of whisper of their previous victims? All three who could see the Thestrals were apparently entranced by it, what if that thing spoke of death? Yet Ginny had apparently been affected by it to...but then again, she'd been a breath away from death in the Chamber. He made a disgruntled noise and told his mind to shut up, he had no want to linger on this place, Harry hopefully would never have to suffer another death again and the place was irrelevant.

Harry asked one last time what that could be, but Hermione said she was only sure it was dangerous as she crossed out that door before closing it.

"Hermione used to think I was dangerous too, oh, no wait, that one's still true," Sirius looked so proud of himself reminding them of that. It seemed impossible he was worried about his ego at a time like this, but clearly he was picturing Harry coming across him any second and seeing him in the most degrading position he could ever be in his life.

Harry just shook his head at his godfather, he'd never agreed with Hermione more in his life.

Once the place stopped spinning again, they tried the next door, which was the first and only one locked.***

"Is that one it?" James hissed, his hands tightening almost painfully around his wife now though Lily didn't feel a second of discomfort, it was grounding and helped her not to fly out of her mind with worry.

"No, no, must be something you need special access to," Remus babbled at the top of his lungs, trying to ignore his tunnel vision. "Everything else has been open and too easy, this must be something else."

Harry agreed, he had a funny little frown in place even as he said aloud, "yeah, don't think I actually go into this room."

Lily made a breathy little noise, some combination of discomfort and relief, her heart really was going to sink right out of her soon if this didn't end.

Hermione tried the Alohomora charm, but nothing happened.

"I wouldn't exactly be surprised, that spell doesn't fix everything, there's charms you can use to block charms," Lily muttered.

James moved to brushing at her hair, for the first time recognizing how grateful he was she was the one reading this. He wasn't sure what he'd do with himself when hers ended and if his began without any resolution but still more problems.

Harry even tried Sirius' knife he still had in his bag, but when he pulled the blade out from the crack in the wall, it had melted straight to the handle.

Sirius looked offended! "Oi, what the bloody hell is behind that thing!"

"Now I really don't want to know," Lily muttered, if it was warded powerfully enough to stop conventional means, she was more sure than ever it really was something she didn't want her son around.

Hermione decided they were leaving that room be, though Ron said what if that was really it with honest curiosity in place.

"I can understand that though," James sighed, another part of his life saying how cool all of this would have been to poke around any other circumstances.

Hermione reminded of Harry's dreams,

'Oh, so now his dreams are credible,' Remus thought bleakly, wishing for this attitude hours ago instead of for the first time wondering how long Frank and Alice had suffered before their damage had been irreparabile...

marking the door before they tried again, as it began spinning once they'd stepped back away from it.

Luna began to offer her own idea of what was in there,

"I'm sure she'll tell us," James told with whatever affection he could muster for a person who wasn't Sirius right now.

"Why was the wall moving? You didn't open a door," Remus muttered.

"I guess the room took that as intent and did it anyways," Harry shrugged.

Hermione said it was something blibbering before she could finish, and Neville gave a nervous laugh.

No one managed one in here, though Hermione's sarcasm right now was at least appreciated.

On the next door, Harry shouted they'd found it!

"Oh boy," James stated, trying to look over Lily's shoulder, to find at any moment what was going to happen already.

Lily wasn't giving him the chance, making sure he couldn't hurt himself by reading ahead by continuing loudly with determination now, this had to be the end, they couldn't stand anymore delays.

It was finally the room full of glittering lights sparkling off glass, which now that Harry was present saw the room dominated by a giant hour-glass that was filled with an egg that was slowly rising up, cracking as it went so that by the time it reached the top it was a fully hatched chick, but when it reached the top it sunk back down into its egg, reaching the bottom only to begin again when going up.

Harry released a suddenly heavy breath. For the first time since his vision of Sirius, his eyes traveled unfocused again, a memory trying to return to him, and he could almost hear the echo of someone calling his name, 'Harry, watch out-'

"Harry?"

Lily had frozen, everyone realized what he was doing now, and he softly whispered, "I wasn't having a go at my memories, I swear, just, this place-"

"You've been dreaming about it for ages, it's natural to start feeling overcrowded now remembering a dream coming to life," Sirius told him with comfort he was sure would help Harry to stop looking at him with that desperate face any second.

Harry didn't answer, the memory was already fading away but leaving him in no less dread of what happened in this place on any occasion.

The rest of the walls in the room were covered with every kind of clock imaginable, there was even a glass case dedicated to time-turners.

"It's a room for time," Sirius muttered in fascination, though for just a second he had a walk over the grave moment. Last time his life had been saved due to a time-turner, he didn't like the premonition Harry was walking through a room dedicated to studying that just before fetching his arse. He only hoped if something went wrong, at least Harry could come across something to help him this time as well.

Harry paid no mind to any of this as he darted through, wrenching the next available door open, they'd finally found the right place.

Lily couldn't help but still, every rampant emotion coursing through her reaching its peak all at once, and finally ebbing off for just a moment so she could collect herself. No more waiting, no more wondering, Harry was there, and whatever happened, was going to happen.

The room was large as a cathedral, with rows upon rows of shelves. Harry reminded they were looking for ninety-seven, and Hermione saw the nearest one was fifth-three,

"Why would you start-"

Remus was shushed again, and he'd never been more grateful for it. He more than anyone wished his mind would shut off, it hurt to breath enough as is without wasting the air on stupid questions.

to the right was fifty-four, so they went along that way. Harry struggled to hear anything as they took off, but no noise echoed except their own feet. Sirius was still okay though, he was possibly gagged, or even unconscious, it didn't mean...

Harry could hardly hear his mother, his own pulse thumping so loud in his ear. He cared not for anything but the steady presence of his godfather on his side, watching more than listening to those around him, it was too hard to take in every word but each syllable was held with all his concentration.

They stood grouped around the end of the row, gazing down the alley way.

There was nobody there.

It happened all at once, five heart beats stilled until every possible thing went flying through their mind too fast; he'd been stowed away, he was being tortured somewhere else now and brought back in front of Harry when needed- Harry made a noise first. Half a sob of relief, half a scream of surprise, and all around one of confusion.

Lily looked to him for some kind of answer, but it was impossible. He was actually making even less sense now than when the vision had first started. All they knew was a combination of their own fear and confusion, where was Sirius?

Harry insisted he must be down there, darting to the end with still nothing in sight. He even checked the next available rows as if he'd crawled away, and still there was no one in sight.

"I, don't, understand," James said slowly, scrutinizing Sirius now like he was still worried he'd vanish any second.

"Maybe, the Order really did come and help out already?" Remus tried to offer.

Lily shivered hard, something tight refusing to unclench in her as that still was no answer for the state Sirius was in.

Harry had no answer for any of them, feeling more every moment he only wished those around him would remain in this state of confusion, whatever lingering hope they were clinging to, because once that ended...

Hermione finally told Harry she didn't think Sirius was here.

"That's, supposed to be a good thing, Lily," Sirius said every word carefully, trying with all his might to put that into his own tone, but it was hard going.

"Right you are," Lily agreed without looking up. She'd gone in with this expecting some sort of fight between Harry and Voldemort again, now they felt more in limbo, a never ending state of fear for never being given an answer.

Nobody said a word, Harry started to feel sick with fear. He did not understand, Sirius had to be here, Harry had seen him.

"Then that's what happened!" James stated, there was no other option. "Clearly something happened in the meantime."

"The Order, or Merlin, maybe even the Ministry did find some way to step in," Remus uneasily agreed, trying to nod his head but really only getting a jerky movement in before Lily ignored the lot of them. She could feel they were trying to push into something more bearable, but her terror still resided.

He looked desperately around for some kind of clue, but there wasn't even a sign of a struggle.

Sirius hummed, nestled as he was it was harder to focus on what that could have been as he still kept eyes on Harry. He was more concerned his Godson may still well run into trouble before he caught up with him now, the idea of that ambush, that this was all set up had yet to be explained anymore than, well anything!

Ron called out to Harry, and at first Harry refused to turn back towards him, afraid Ron would tell him this was stupid and they should go back to school.

"You're not stupid!" Remus said at once, the word never should have crossed his mind when clearly something had happened, Harry just didn't know what yet.

"And Ron would never suggest otherwise," James agreed vehemently.

Instead Ron called for Harry to look at this, and he came back eagerly hoping he'd spotted something, but Ron was looking at the shelves. Now Harry stopped to look, he saw they were filled with a million glass spun orbs, all coated in dust. Some were dark, but others were lit up as if from the inside, like the one Ron was now looking at. Up close, they each had little plaques below them,

"Err," Sirius said with genuine concern now.

Lily blinked slowly, an itch at the nap of her neck promising this wasn't the kind of answer she'd been hoping for.

and the one Ron had spotted was dated sixteen years ago labeled;

S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D.

Dark Lord

and (?)Harry Potter

"This is where the weapon's supposed to be," Remus recalled slowly, this information coming back to him now that their panic for Sirius had subsided for a moment.

"What are the odds something relating to Harry would be in the same place?" James agreed with a detached horror, he didn't believe in coincidences.

"That's a weapon?" Lily tried to scoff, not wanting to believe what they were trying to say for a moment.

"It's, something," Sirius agreed uneasily, as a memory tried to offer up what this could be, his old aunt telling a couple of kids the secrets the Ministry held.

Lily grumbled, but honestly paid it not too much mind, she still wanted more than anything to hear of Harry being out of there.

Ron was looking at the adjacent shelves and asked why none of them had one as well?

"Maybe they're in alphabetical order," Remus said snidely.

"Or Ron's just not important enough," Sirius shrugged.

"Well don't tell him that," Lily huffed.

Hermione told Harry she didn't think he should touch it, as Harry's hand had been reaching out to do.

"Neither do I!" Lily shrieked as she looked to Harry like he'd lost his mind. "Are you crazy Harry! You shouldn't be touching anything in there! Sirius wasn't in there, so you either keep looking for him or try to find someone else to find out what's going on!"

Harry kept wincing like each word had struck a blow in him.

Lily had seen she was on the last page, and while she wanted to keep informing him what an idiot her son was being, she supposed she could do that later when whatever this was stopped feeling like a mouse trap ready to snap shut. None of them had forgotten, this still felt like a trap, he'd made it here without any resistance from anyone, and they had no more explanation to that than when they started, only more questions.

Harry insisted it had his name on it, so with a reckless surge he grasped it in his hand. He'd hoped something would happen, but it only continued to swirl in his hand as if a miniature crystal ball of gray fog.

"Err, does it have an on switch?" Remus asked through that tingling feeling raising down his spine was quickly coursing out to the rest of his body, already leaving his fingers twitching for his wand any second.

"Don't know," Sirius honestly muttered, whatever details he'd tried to attain from his forgotten youth too mixed up to be of help now. "Maybe they should try breaking it open."

"That's your answer to everything," James huffed.

"He still shouldn't have even grabbed it," Lily snapped at the lot of them, anger was replacing fear, she wanted to smack her son upside the head for doing this when all she wanted him to do now was leave.

And then, from right behind them, a drawling voice spoke for Potter to give that to him.

"Who was that?" James demanded slowly.

Harry didn't even hear him, he didn't care! "Sirius isn't there," unbelievably that relief was still holding Harry together, even as something very painful tried to warn his hopes from springing too high, and he blissfully ignored it all. He'd been wrong, he'd suffered those consequences, and he wouldn't let them fall him again.

He got up and stretched, trying to walk away for just a moment to ignore that heavy weight mashing down on him for trying to remember something too early, for still feeling a part of him that knew that not to be true. Remus watched him go uncertainly, Harry growing more jittery by the second was not at all encouraging as they now had even more questions of who'd arrived, all but him seemed to agree it wasn't going to be a good thing!

Lily mutely handed the book to James while Sirius gave a flick of his wand and the living room righted itself. The couple got whizzed back across the room still partially seated and both glared at his innocent smile. James gazed heavily at the stupid book, wishing now more than ever Harry'd taken Sirius' offer when it had been given and skipped past all this while they had a chance. They'd suffered for nothing apparently, his idiot of a brother was okay, he must be! That was probably Moody right behind them, to tell them where Sirius finally was and get Harry out of there.

HPHPHP

* This one still manages to make me laugh every single time, Ron just has that effect on me I suppose.

** I also imagine Cedric said something along the lines of 'I don't blame you,' but I couldn't work out how to add that in.

***I also love the symbolism they go from the door of death to the door of love, feels appropriate.

[fantasticstoryteller]

Kingdoms ch. 43

Peter wasn’t sure what to make of the entity currently residing in his mate. The inky, slithering blackness covered Wade’s whole body, and it didn’t sound like Wade, or feel like Wade or even really look like Wade. But he went along with the entity, because it had promised that when the two of them were safe it would give Wade back.

Every night the entity would find some kind of shelter; an old mine shaft, a cave, something; and then the entity would go out and bring back food. The food was almost always roots and vegetables. When Peter looked at it he could all too easily imagine a poor family starving because their food had been taken—and he tried not to think about it. He prayed, every night, that somehow the goddesses could help the poor people who had no control over what their leaders did.

He would have found it easier to bear, if Wade had been talking. Unable to take the silence anymore Peter began to talk. He started with tales and lessons used to teach the acolytes at the temple. First he went over the creation of the world. “When humans first arrived,” Peter said, “they did not thrive.” According to the ambassador from Mysterio and Wade, humans had literally arrived in the world. “Their crops would not grow, they had trouble eating the food, and it seemed as though the very land was against them.”

The entity, surrounding Wade’s body with the inky blackness that was itself, leaned closer, listening to every word. The firelight in the mine shaft they were in made odd shapes, and suggestions of shapes in the entity. Peter was trying not to look too closely; he was trying to pretend that he was just giving a lesson, teaching someone new. He remembered doing the same thing for Wade, long ago.

“The goddesses saw the humans’ hard work, and looked upon them with favor. They granted the humans blessings—”

“What is a blessing?” The entity’s voice hissed through Wade.

Peter thought about it. Before this mess, before he’d been to Ajax and seen their king, he would have answered that blessings were special powers and privileges given to humans by the goddesses. Now, after all he’d seen, his answer was different. “Blessings are given to us to help us survive,” Peter said softly.

There was an odd sound, almost like Spot’s chirr. “How do they help?”

“Well,” said Peter slowly as he added some wood to the fire in front of him. He tried not to think about how he’d learned that omegas and alphas—the very fact that humans could breed—were blessings. “One of my blessings,” Peter said, “is my ability to climb. I can climb anything a spider can.”

“So blessings are powers.”

That didn’t—sound quite right, but Peter wasn’t going to argue. “Some of them. I think,” he remembered the moment in the cell and pushed the thought away, “I think the weather is a blessing as well.”

“The weather?” The entity turned Wade’s head to look at the mouth of the mine shaft they were in. Swirls of snow danced in the firelight.

“Not this weather,” Peter amended. “Our weather. The mild weather that we have at home.”

“The weather is a blessing?”

“I think so. After all, in the kingdoms still protected by the goddesses, we have good weather. Also, the spiders.”

“The large mounts you ride?”

Peter chuckled. The description was—accurate. “Yes, those too. I was talking to Wade about them, you know,” he continued. He felt a deep pain, a wish to actually be talking to Wade, but pushed it down. “He said that the other countries have nothing like the rider spiders, or even most of the spiders that Arachne has.”

“Creatures can be a blessing?”

“I think so.” The entity was silent for a long time, so Peter began talking about the lessons people were supposed to take from the legend. The entity listened, far better than any acolyte that Peter had taught.

A few nights later, the entity came back from getting food with a set of fur-lined clothes for Peter. Peter tried not to think of how the entity had gotten the clothes, or where they’d come from. He needed the warm clothes desperately, and he had no idea how far they were from the border. He felt warmer almost the instant he put them on.

The entity, covering Wade’s body, shifted nervously. “Mate warm?” it asked in its distinctive, hissing voice.

“Yes,” agreed Peter. “I’m warm.”

“Mate happy?”

Peter smiled. Something about the entity struck him as very lonely. “I’m happy to warm,” he said. It was true.

The entity nodded once, firmly, and then took a seat near Peter as he cooked the food that the entity had brought with the clothes. “How did mate and host meet?” it asked.

Peter smiled fondly at the memory. “King Philip and the king of Reaper had decided to see if MJ, King Phillip’s daughter, and Wade, the prince of Reaper, would connect.”

“You do not use the king of Reaper’s name.”

“I do not particularly like the king of Reaper,” Peter said with distaste. He took a deep breath. “I try not to dignify him with a name. What is your name?” Peter asked, looking at the entity.

“I have no name. Continue.” A pause. “Please.”

“Right,” said Peter nervously before he launched back into his story. “It was summer,” he recalled with a smile. The best things always happened to him in the summer. “I was with the group because MJ threw the mother of all tantrums when she was told she had to go alone, and no one wanted to listen to her scream any more. Harry, Commander Osborn’s son, went because Commander Osborn was going as an escort for the group. Also, I think he wanted Harry there to be a—a buffer between him and MJ. Commander Osborn did not handle children well.”

Done with the explanations, Peter launched into the scene. “The king of Reaper, his attendants, and Wade stood outside the drawbridge of the castle as Commander Osborn introduced MJ to the group. The rest of us,” he confided in the entity, “didn’t matter.” The entity gave a low growl. “Well, Harry was just a soldier’s son and I was just one of the temple children,” Peter explained. “MJ was a princess. She’s a queen now, but that’s way more important.”

“Nothing more important than mate,” hissed the entity.

That was—really sweet, and sounded like something Wade would say. “An—anyway,” Peter said awkwardly, covering a blush, “Wade and MJ walked up to each other, and met each other on the drawbridge. MJ curtsied and said the empty phrase her mother taught her when Wade demanded to know what happened to her hair to make it orange. So, MJ pushed him down and stomped back to the group. Wade looked at us, and met my eyes and…”

There were no words to describe that odd feeling of rightness, of wholeness. As if part of Peter had been missing and he’d never known it until he met Wade’s ice blue eyes. The way that, for a single moment, everything had been right with the world.

A feeling that had been shattered when MJ shrilly declared the mission a failure and that they were going to turn their spiders around and go home.

That night marked a turning point. After that a new part of the evening ritual was Peter telling a story. He’d start with one of the legends and lessons—but he’d end up telling childhood stories. Like the time he was told that his gift with spiders made him qualified for the temple, or when he met the beta couple in charge of the temple children for the first time. Betas Benjamin and May would, forever, be his aunt and uncle, along with the other children he’d been raised with. All the children at the temple received a blessing shortly after they arrived. After Peter presented as an omega, no one expected him to get more blessings—especially not Peter himself.

Maybe it was the conversation, maybe it was remembering all the good things to offset the situation they were in, but the rest of the journey seemed much faster, and warmer than what had preceded it. Soon enough they were crossing the border, shaking snow off their frozen bodies into the sultry autumn heat. Peter was suddenly enveloped in a very spider hug by Spot as the rider spider keened its loneliness. Behind Spot Peter could see, in the distance, the formation of an Arachnid army squad.

“Mate safe. Spiders here. Promise kept.”

Peter turned in Spot’s embrace to see—that the entity looked like it was melting? Long thin tendrils broke away and slowly, slowly dissipated into mist that vanished in the sunlight. Spot hissed and backed away at the display as the blackness evaporated leaving behind nothing but Wade. Wade, who swore colorfully and began to fall.

Peter caught him and momentarily sagged under his mate’s weight as someone, a voice he vaguely recognized as Harry, called his name.

[queerpsychopomp]

what’s owed to them?

Prompt:  can you please write the last letter marlene wrote to sirius? maybe he finds it a week after her death? or maybe she knew she was dying so she wrote it and gave it to someone to give it to him after her death? WOULD MEAN A LOT TO ME IF YOU DO IT.

So this kind of ran away from me. Hope you like it!

AO3 | Masterlist

---

Dear Sirius

If you find this letter, I’ve died. With everything the way it is, it was bound to happen - 

Mar sighed and crumpled up the parchment, tossing it. That didn’t sound right, too much like she was admitting defeat and giving up. That wasn’t her style, and it wasn’t the reason she wanted to write this letter. Sounding like she resigned herself to the war would bring him pain. It needed to provide some comfort, a final goodbye if they didn’t have the chance to say it. 

The Daily Prophet sat on the table in her reach. Today’s headline proclaiming a family of four had been killed last night, the accompanying picture showing the dark mark above a cottage. Aurors found Edgar Bones and his entire family slaughtered just last week. Two weeks before, they buried Dorcas Meadows after she was tortured and killed by Voldemort himself. James and Lily were going into hiding, the madman marking Harry as the child of the prophecy. The war was picking up and the Order was struggling to win against the endless tides of death eaters far outnumbering them. Skilled wizards were dying all the time. Every single day Marlene woke up and wondered if today would be the day that she would die. Or Sirius. Or Remus or Peter or another one of their few friends that were still alive.

So Marlene sat at the kitchen table of the small flat she shared with Sirius, trying to write a letter he would only open if she died. It took weeks for her to reach this point. Every time she built up the courage to start, Sirius would walk into the flat, back from a mission or grocery shopping. He would ask what she was doing, Marlene would brush it off as writing a letter to one of her brothers. They’d get distracted, and she would abandon the letter for another time. No distractions this time though; Sirius had gone to visit the Potters one last time before they went into hiding, so he would be gone at least an hour. Marlene had said her goodbyes the day before. 

Two more pieces of parchment shared the same fate as the one before. Everything sounded wrong, insincere, fake, hopeless. Not anything like she wanted it to. Marlene saw what happened when Sirius found out Regulus had died and didn’t want a repeat of that. He was inconsolable, many nights of sobbing himself to sleep and days of wandering around the flat in a stupor. Only eating because Marlene was there to remind him. Only going to bed because Marlene would guide him there. It broke her heart seeing him like that. The only reason the grief didn’t consume him for good was that they didn’t let it happen. James, Lily, Remus, Peter, along with herself spent those two weeks caring for him, trying to provide some sort of comfort. Stopping him from letting the abyss of his grief and guilt engulf him.

If Marlene died, she wasn’t sure who would be there. James and Lily had to stay in hiding for Harry’s sake, Peter was around less and less, and Remus… she wasn’t sure what happened but Sirius once confided in her that he didn’t entirely trust him anymore. That maybe he was letting information slip - Marlene told him that was daft and Remus would never sell them out and that was the last they spoke of it. Still, it seemed the bond was broken and neither party attempted to fix it.

This letter needed to somehow provide Sirius the comfort they all had before. It needed to stop him from losing himself because Marlene couldn’t bear the thought of causing him so much pain. It had to remind him of how much she loved him, to alleviate the guilt he was sure to have, no matter how ridiculous it was. They both jumped headfirst into fighting the war, but he wouldn’t remember that. He would blame himself for not doing enough. 

“Fuck,” Marlene sighed, scrapping yet another draft. She was putting too much pressure on a piece of parchment, but what was she to do? She wrote for a living, and now the words she desperately needed were out of reach. Just her luck. Pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes, she groaned. At this rate, Sirius would be back before she wrote a single sentence that didn’t make her want to set the parchment on fire. He always joked that she was never happy with ‘just fine,’ always pushing herself for ‘the best.’

“Isn’t this article just about the Harpies match?” Sirius asked, glancing at the piles of parchment around her, all will only a few lines crossed out.

Marlene huffed, her head resting on the table. “It needs to be good.”

“Not good, the best,” he teased a little. Nudging her to raise her head, Sirius set a mug of tea in front of her before sitting in the chair beside her. “I’m sure all of these were good. You just think too much-”

Marlene wrapped her hands around the mug, taking a quick sip. “As opposed to not at all?” she teased, raising an eyebrow and fighting back a grin from spreading on her face. 

“Oi- those are fighting words McKinnon!”

“Okay just- don’t think about it,” she mumbled before trying again. 

It was like a dam broke. Marlene didn’t know how long she wrote, worrying that if she glanced at the clock, the words would halt and the letter would be abandoned for good. Setting down the quill, she looked it over once, folded it, and put it in an envelope before going to tuck it between the pages of an album. They rarely looked through these pictures anymore, the hopeful faces of their youth too painful to look at. If Sirius found the need to look through it, it would either be because he was feeling nostalgic - unlikely - or wanted to see her or their friends alive. When would he feel the need to seek out their happy faces? In a week? A month? Or years from now to show Harry - or maybe their own kids? - what they looked like during their time at school, tell stories of the trouble they got into.

Marlene hoped that when he found the letter, he could walk down the hall and ask her about it. That she would be there to explain why she wrote it, and that would be the end of the matter. They would go to meet the others for lunch, and the war would be a thing of memory.

The universe owed them that much.

But when do people ever get what’s owed to them? 

----- 

Marlene was buried on a Tuesday alongside her family. It was a bright, clear June day. It made Sirius want to scream. The world didn’t deserve to be so happy when everything had been taken away from him. His suit itched. Usually Marlene would stand beside him when he wore this suit, the two mourning yet another fallen member of the Order.

But Marlene wasn’t beside him, she was in the coffin being lowered in the ground.

James and Lily, as much as they wanted to attend, couldn’t, not even under the cloak. Remus was there, but stood away from Sirius. Most of the Order was there - whoever was alive anyway. People made speeches about how the world had lost a bright soul. They had no idea. Marlene was the best of them, the best of him. He could feel the eyes on him, pitying, expecting him to break down. 

He said nothing.

He was the first to leave, not able to bear any more condolences, though spending time in their his flat was worse. The week he heard the news, he fell into a stupor. If he wasn’t drunk and sobbing, he was in their bed, staring at the ceiling. The absence of her beside him was clearer than ever on the nights he passed out in their bed, there was no one he had to fight for the covers from, no hair in his face, no one mumbling “Budge over.”  Every time he walked into the flat, he expected her to be singing along to the radio in the kitchen as she baked. Or lounging on the couch, reading some book that Lily had suggested. Or sitting among a pile of parchment as another deadline loomed above her. 

Contrary to what many might have expected, the flat was immaculate. He took off his shoes at the door and placed them to the side. His coat hung properly in the closet. He never destroyed possessions when mourning; no, his upbringing kicked in and while he would destroy himself, everything in the flat went in its place.

It was perfect. It was sterile. It was no longer a home.

There used to be jackets slung over chairs, a mug of tea here, Marlene’s slippers constantly forgotten in different places around the flat. It hadn’t been messy, but it had been theirs. Comfortable. A refuge from the war. No matter how bad things got, everything seemed better once he stepped inside. They would patch each other up after missions, dream about a life after the war, mumble confessions that they would never share with anyone else, all within this flat. Stave away nightmares of the things they did to survive. The war couldn’t touch them here because they were together. 

It was a grave now.

Staying here, with the ghosts of their life together haunting his every move was unbearable. Sirius had already told James he was moving, a new flat already chosen. His belongings packed away neatly in boxes. Marlene’s were still sitting there, awaiting their fate. He couldn’t bear to part with them, his last remains of her, but they hurt to look at for the same reason. 

After changing out of the funeral suit, he grabbed a box from the top shelf of the closet and sat on the bed, reaching for the half-empty bottle of Firewhiskey on the nightstand. I have to get more later. Popping off the cap, he took a swig before taking things out of it. There were movie tickets from their first date. A newspaper from which they found out Regulus had died. Childhood pictures of Marlene, James making an appearance of many of them after she turned eight. A handful of his own. Some of Marlene’s quidditch medals.

And an album of their school years.

They hadn’t touched the album since they joined the Order; it felt wrong to see them so carefree after constantly being bombarded by the horrors of war. It hurt to see the people they used to be before they were thrown into this mess, who they could have been if they weren’t. Sirius flipped it open and drank more. None of that mattered now. Marlene had just been buried, with her the dreams they shared of life after all this was over. He deserved a glimpse of her alive. 

He almost didn’t notice the envelope that slipped out. That was strange. Picking it up, he saw it was addressed to him in Marlene’s measured writing. He wasn’t sure how long he spent just staring at it. Why did she put this in here? Did it even matter anymore? Wasn’t like he could go ask her about it. Snapping out of it, he opened the envelope and took the letter out, taking three sips from the bottle to steel himself before unfolding it.

Sirius,

I really hope you never find this letter. You’re out visiting the Potters now, and I hope you remember to buy that toy broom on your way back. Harry’ll love it, and it’ll freak James out a bit, which’ll be fun for Lily. Can you believe the little bugger’s turning one soon?

Right, I’m getting off topic. Look, if you’re reading this, it probably means I’m dead. I hope to Merlin that I’m wrong and you can go tease me about this-

He let out a watery laugh at that. He’d give anything to do that. But he was alone. No James, no Lily, no Peter, no Remus, no one at all at his side. She left him here alone.

-and I can tell you to bugger off and that times were different. They are different. Everyone’s dropping dead, better wizards than us. I guess that’s what pushed me to write this. It’s been nagging at me for a while now, but — I don’t know, things feel more urgent now.

Right. Well, there’s really only one important thing I have to tell you: whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault. Don’t start thinking you didn’t protect me enough, that you put me in danger, that would be an insult to my memory. I chose to fight this war as much as you did. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s Voldemort and his lot. 

Living in this war feels like I’m living on borrowed time, but that’s fine. I got to spend that time with you, and that is something I’ll never regret. You made me so so happy, even when we fought, even when you were off on a mission and I was up worrying, even when you felt you were becoming more like the Blacks, which is rubbish. You may share similarities with them love, but your heart is what makes you different. You are a good man, no matter what you may think. You choose to be good, and that makes all the difference in the world. We’ve all got a little darkness in us, but that doesn’t make us evil. Remember that. Please. 

The tears building in his eyes made it harder to read. Sirius swiped at them, careful to make sure none fell on the letter, messing with the ink. This was his last bit of Marlene, the last gift she gave him, a lifeline. Leave it to her to worry about him when faced with death. Merlin, he loves - loved that woman.

I love you. I’ve said it a thousand times and I hope I’ll get to say it a thousand more. If these are the last years of my life, I’m honoured to have shared them with you. Mourn me as long as you need, but don’t shut the others out. Talk to them, let them help you. Keep some of my things and throw away the rest. I don’t want to be a ghost to you Sirius. I don’t want to be the reason you die either, so don’t let the need for revenge consume you. Let me go when you’re ready and move on. Live through this war and find happiness. You deserve all the happiness in the world. The universe owes you that much.

Have a long, happy life Sirius. Fall in love again. I know you don’t believe in anything after death, but I hope to see you again one day. Make sure you have some good stories to tell, yeah?

I love you.

Marlene.

The universe owed them more time.

But when did people ever get what they were owed?

[drjackandmissjo]

firewhisky on ice, sunset and vine

you’ve ruined my life by not being mine

Chapter 4 --- previous chapter --- next chapter

Harry Potter fics Masterlist

Acceptable. A fucking A in Herbology class, all thanks to the idiot Death Eater on a secret mission that refused to proofread his essay on Niffler’s Fancy. What the hell was Niffler’s Fancy?

Blaise was livid, murderous, on a path to righteous vengeance.

It was the last round of examination of November, meaning that in less than a month their first section of the year would wrap up. Grades were already decided then, and he could not, for all the Work and Effort Salazar Slytherin had put into building the Chamber of Secrets, have anything lower than Outstanding. He’d allow himself a single Exceeds Expectations in Herbology, but never an Acceptable. That didn’t ‘threw a wrench in his plans’, as Pansy had mockingly said that morning; it utterly ruined his future career and he would not, for the life of him, let a stupid plant destroy everything he had worked hard for.

In the past, he had always managed fine in the class, even with some difficulties: who was he to understand whether the green leaves were ripe enough for a change of pots and why should he care, after all. If it was up to him, the pots would be charmed to automatically know those kinds of things, yet Professor Sprout refused his suggestion. Actually docked Slytherin of 5 points, which he then got back in Transfiguration.

In the past, he could count on a best friend who was as competitive as he was, to help him focus and study something he truly hated, that read through his essays and corrected the very few mistakes and that let him sometimes borrow his own work. It wasn’t cheating, it was collaboration. A currency that was well used in the Slytherin common room. It wasn’t as if Draco didn’t receive his share: au contraire, he rarely did Transfiguration on his own, always aided by Blaise, who, in turn, shared his own work.

That was a fool-proof way to succeed.

But of course Draco Fucking Malfoy had to mess up yet another thing and utterly wreak Blaise’s carefully thought plans.

He had to find a solution, as soon as possible. He had to get at least O on the next essay on the effects of Lumos Solem on the Devil’s Snare, otherwise he could easily kiss goodbye to his nearly perfect grades. He could easily ace the charm part of his composition, for obvious reasons, and probably would’ve managed to get an E rather easily, but he simply couldn’t allow the opportunity to slip.

He had to get an O, no matter the cost.

Which was why Blaise Zabini, renowned Sixth Year Slytherin, Pureblood, Heartthrob, Genius and overall Perfect in Every Way, remained seated on his chair in the greenhouse they currently used for their studies, glaring at his roll of parchment that had failed him once again and checking with the corner of his eyes the quickly emptying room. To anyone, he looked as if he was just packing up slowly, with a bored expression on his face.

In actuality, he was waiting. Waiting for Neville Longbottom to stop being a perfect assistant and leave the room so he could corner the Gryffindor and make his offer. Did he really have to fucking rearrange all the plants on the west side of the room and to colour coordinate the entire glove section right at the moment?

Blaise was desperate, that much was true, but he had his limits: if the bloody plant-head wasn’t done in the next two seconds, he’d accept his fate. Or so he told himself, until said boy moved to grab his seat to fix his bag, springing Blaise to hasten his own process and quickly leave the room before the other boy.

Once he was out of the door, he checked the corridor. While he wasn’t doing inherently illegal per se, he was still one of the best and most prominent Slytherins, and he definitely couldn’t be seen border-lining begging for help from Schlongbottom of all the people. Even Granger might’ve been a better choice at this point, and only because she was the best at everything.

Taking a deep breath, he rehearsed once more his offer in his head, conscious that he had to sound convincing and stern, while also seeming approaching and focused. He had calculated everything: the words, the pace, the stance.

“Excuse me?” came a deep voice from behind him, startling him out of his mind. He had spaced out in the moment of need and was blocking the door to the greenhouse, with a very timidly looking Longbottom staring sheepishly at him.

“How in the actual fuck is he managing to be hot and cute at the same time?” Blaise’s mind took shortcut, shifting its gears into a totally different direction than the one meant at the beginning.

He was speechless. His great offer forgotten, he was looking up at the dorky Gryffindor with what he hoped was a puzzled expression and not a starstruck one. It had become his Achille’s Heel: during their Transfiguration classes, Blaise had found his mind wander towards the other boy, whenever Professor McGonagall wasn’t talking; in the Great Hall, he would turn around and see him with his group of Gryffindors and he’d be rendered baffled by his bright laugh, or, in several occasions when he didn’t have full control over his brain, he’d actually look for Longbottom, whether by scanning over the crowds to see his head or by being in places where he might be as well, even if those were more on the ‘accidental encounter’ side. He had once remained stuck in the library, looking for a book, cause he had caught a glimpse of the Gryffindor studying with a muggle pencil on his bottom lip. Needless to say, he didn’t do many productive and public things that day.

Suddenly, one of his mother’s rules made him remember who he was and what his mission was: ‘Rule number sixteen: do not, under any circumstances, act foolishly around the person you like.’ And so he tried not to.

“Longbottom” he began with a cold and distant voice, trying not to seem nervous but slowly boiling inside, “I would like to make you an offer.”

“Zabini” the other boy said, instantly frying Blaise’s brain as he fixed his bag on his shoulder and moved to lean against the doorframe, “[ic1] what makes you think I would even consider accepting?” That was very much not part of the plan. He wasn’t prepared for Longbottom to talk back with such confidence and all his blood rushed downwards, leaving his brain and making him forget his façade. He was once more dumbly staring, mouth slightly agape as he tried to recompose himself as quickly as possible. He cleared his throat once, to mask his discomfort, before proudly announcing: “It would be extremely beneficial for both of us.”

Once again, bloody Longbottom did something that wasn’t scripted in Blaise’s plan: he rose up a questioning eyebrow[ic2] , looking him up and down and studying him silently for a few heartbeats. It was a furnace under his robes and he was positive he might combust any moment. Longbottom didn’t flirt with anyone, for crying out loud, so Blaise didn’t have a single way to tell if he was being mistaken in his assumption or not! He also was not aware of the other boy’s sexuality, therefore the territory was not only risky in terms of rejection but also in terms of safety. “Rule number four: don’t put yourself in dangerous positions.”

Eventually, the Gryffindor spoke again, sounding interested but casual at the same time: “Well, if that’s the case, do tell, why me?” he asked with a sly smirk on his face, sight that sent another rush of blood down Blaise’s pants. It clearly had to be meant to be an innuendo. Had to.

Yet Blaise choose to play on the safe side, just that once, because he still was not sure about anything and he desperately needed all the help he could get. “Also, tutoring each other means we’ll work really close and who knows what’s gonna happen in time. Keep it in your pants, Zabini, and finish what you started!”

He bit the inside of his cheek and nervously glanced around the empty corridor, before turning once more towards that freaking tall and slightly ripped plant-head and said: “It pains me to admit it, but you’re the best at Herbology in this gods forsaken school and Salazar help me, if I don’t pass this class with at least an E I’ll burn the ministry to the ground.”

Longbottom seemed to be taken aback by that: either Blaise’s honesty shocked him or he had indeed seen other paths those first sentences lead to. Not too bad, they’d have the time to explore those after the Devil’s Snare essay. Which he had to ace flawlessly, he reminded himself, trying not to get distracted by the hand the Gryffindor had brought behind his neck to scratch it.

“Why not directly the school?” he asked suddenly.

“We have another year to attend here and the ministry is a shitty place” came the easy answer, truthful and honest. Hogwarts was not a bad place and the Ministry could stand a renovation, both in terms of building and furniture, and as organization as well. Especially with the new developments, that place was now filled up with vicious rats. “Gotta agree on that” Longbottom admitted, undoubtedly having his own ghosts regarding the place after his and his friends’ little escapade to the Department of Mysteries. “But you said it’d be mutually beneficial? I can’t see how” he continued, a curious gleam in his eyes sparkling.

That was a topic Blaise had practiced over and over, and he was comfortable with it: “It’s really easy. I noticed you are, for a lack of a better word, a little lacklustre when it comes to Transfiguration and I’d thought I’d offer my services in exchange for your help with those stupid plants.” He did derail off track at the end, mainly because the shame of having an A still burnt him and also due to the fact that plans were, indeed, rather stupid. Longbottom moved quickly into a defensive stance, “Plants are not stupid. Think of how many you use daily, sounds stupid to you?” he asked with a sudden aggressiveness on his tone that Blaise had never heard from him and couldn’t particularly say he minded. “You haven’t really talked much with him outside of immediate necessity. Stop thinking with your dick!”

He quickly tried to return on his original path, claiming: “We have different priorities, I love Transfiguration and you like pretty green leaves.”

“They’re not just green!” Longbottom muttered in a quiet voice, sounding entirely too adorable for Blaise’s brain to handle. Coughing and hoping his cheeks weren’t reddening, he tried to regain his composure after having turned in a very metaphorical mush at the scene in front of him.

“You can think about my offer, but I’d like to know before next week” he said, waving a dismissal hand and moving to walk away towards the staircases for his next class. He was almost near the library when he heard Longbottom talk, “We have a Transfiguration revision on Friday, don’t we?” Turning, Blaise nodded slightly at the approaching boy. “That would be correct, Longbottom.” “Well then, Zabini,” he said, either accidentally or purposefully dropping his voice an octave and utterly destroying any futile attempt of Blaise’s to focus on anything afterwards, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow after History of Magic in the empty classroom two doors after the Charms corridor.” Blaise was rooted on the spot as the Gryffindor adjusted once more his bag and slowly walked away from him.

Almost as in an afterthought, he tilted his head backwards and stated pointedly: “Wouldn’t want anyone seeing me study with a snake. Is the feeling mutual?” He finished his sentence with what Blaise assumed was a wink, yet with only half a face showing it was impossible to tell.

He remained there, uselessly dumbfounded even after the other boy had left, for Merlin knew how long, trying to remember how to function.

Blaise was so incredibly screwed and briefly wondered if he had made a mistake.

BONUS

Neville: “Ginny I did as you suggested and appeared confident and shit and I felt so powerful and does that make me gay?”

Ginny: “No, Nev, we agreed you like both boys and girls.”

Neville: “Yeah but I like Blaise”

Ginny: “A SLYTHERIN? IN THIS ECONOMY?”

Luna “It’s more likely than you’d think”

Ginny: “Not now Luna. What you’re gonna do?”

Neville: “Idk but he told me he’d help me study so I’m not gonna waste the opportunity, I’ll flirt when there are no books around us cause otherwise I’ll end up with a Troll in Transfiguration”

Luna: “A Troll in Transfiguration is always better than a Troll in the Dungeons.”

[natashaashleymarvelromanoff]

I’m so glad you’re back - Chapter 9

Chapter 1  chapter 2  chapter 3  chapter 4  chapter 5  chapter 6  chapter 7  chapter 8  chapter 10  chapter 11  Chapter 12  chapter 13  chapter 14  chapter 15  Epilogue

Vormir 2014

The two assassins soon arrive at the planet Vormir after taking the Benatar from Morag.

As they look around at the planet, Clint cannot help but feel overwhelmed, vormir was tragically beautiful, he couldn't believe he was standing on ground that was a different planet from earth.

“This would be awesome if not for the circumstances.” Natasha gives him a sad hopeful smile. She knows he misses Laura, just like she missed Steve. Looking up at the mountain in front of them, it's almost blatantly obvious that's where they needed to go. The two giant pillars reaching up to the clouded sky above them. Kind of cliche really.

Natasha and clint start their journey of climbing up the hill, as surprising as it seems it doesn't take too long for them to reach the top. But it was exhausting, despite its shorter journey to the top, the steepness made up for it.        

As they reach the top the two assassins take a second to look at the view. Nebula had told them Vormir was the ‘very centre of Celestial Existence’ and anyone could tell by looking at it that what she said was true. As Natasha looked up at the black sky she couldn't help but gasp at the beauty of it. A forever eclipsing sun shining purple. The planets and stars in the sky. Every new detail she saw she made a note to remember, she couldn't wait to tell James about this place.

Hearing a whisper of a movement behind them the archer and spy quickly draw out their weapons and spin on their feet, Natasha pulling out her gun and Clint handling his bow and arrow. Both aiming at the same figure in front of them.

“Welcome, Natasha, daughter of Ivan, Clint, son of Edith.” The husky accented voice called out to them. Natasha and Clint stared at the figure with the deep male voice in apprehension and confusion. He was floating off the ground and covered in a damaged cloth and a red face. He almost looked like a dementor from harry potter. And he knew their names, but also their parents. Not even Natasha had known her parent's names until she went searching for them after Shield fell, and even after she found out she never told anyone but Steve. So who was this guy?

“Who are you?” The redhead called out.

“Consider me a guide. To you, and to all who seek the soul stone.” She raised an eyebrow at his words.

“Oh, good. Tell us where it is, then we'll be on our way.” She replied. Her weapon still drawn.

“Ah, lieschen. If only it were that easy.”

Turning away from them, the cloaked figure floats away and towards the edge of the cliff top. The two Avengers follow him and look out over the edge at the hill as if they expected the stone to be there, but they were met with only the rough ground at the bottom of the cliff.

“What you seek lies in front of you. As does that which you fear.”

“The stone's down there.” Natasha concluded, it had to be. Why else would he bring them to the edge of the cliff? His deep voice still behind them spoke out again.

“For one of you. For the other, in order to take the stone, you must lose that which you love. An everlasting exchange. A soul for a soul.”

Stepping away from the edge, the two Avengers take a minute to digest what the red-faced man had just told them. They don't actually know how long they had been pacing and sitting for, it felt like hours but probably only lasted a few minutes. Natasha sat on a rock close by the edge, contemplating his words. You must lose that which you love? She wasn't an idiot. She knew what it meant. To lose what you love?

They came here with a mission, the two of them. To get the stone. There was no way they couldn't come back without it, but coming back with the stone meant that one of the wouldn't.

She couldn't let her oldest friend die. They were so close to getting their friends and family back, he couldn't die before he got to see them again. But she couldn't help but think of James either. She knew he would be okay without her. He had everyone else to protect him and raise him, and if her team was successful, then James would have Steve. He would have his father back.

Sighing and standing to her feet, Natasha walked over to the pacing clint and grabbed his hands, making him face her. At first, she avoided his eyes, as if she was shy about what she was going to say.

“If we don't get that stone, billions of people stay dead.” Nodding his head in agreement Clint held onto her hands. She was right, if they didn't do this billions of people, half of life is dead. Gone forever. One person or half of the universe. It's a no brainer, he thought. For years he dreamed of getting them back. His family. And today he has the chance to do that and Clint was prepared to do whatever it took to get them back, even if that meant not being here when they did.

“Then I guess we both know who it's got to be.”

Smiling softly at her friend, she agreed. “I guess we do.”

They pause for a minute, the silence almost awkward as they stand to hold each other's hands. Clint started to laugh at the situation.

“I'm starting to think we mean different people here, Natasha.” Guilty.

“Clint I can't let you do it. We’re this close to getting Laura back, the kids. You've been through hell. I can't take you away from them. And all these years I've been trying so hard to bring everyone back. Let me do this.”

“Oh, don't you get all decent on me now.” Clint rolled his eyes at her words. They were both completely stubborn inside and out.

“What, you think I want to do it? I'm trying to save ‘your’ life, you idiot.”

“Yeah, well, I don't want you to, how's that? What about James? huh? Your son? Natasha, you know what I've done. You know what I've become. I won't let you do this. I won't…  won't make my nephew an orphan.”

“So it's okay for you to leave your children but it's not okay for me? Clint, they need you.”

“They'll have Laura. They lived for years with me disappearing and going on missions, every time they were prepared for the worst just in case I didn't come back. They'll be okay. “

“And so will James. He has his uncles and his aunts, he has you. He'll have Laura, the kids, he'll have his father back. He would have everyone there for him.” Her breath caught in her throat as she mentioned her son.

“You know what I've become without them, Natasha.” She grimaced. She knew what he had done in their absence but that didn't mean he deserved to die.

“Well, I don't judge people on their worst mistakes.”

“Maybe you should.” Clint scoffed. He knew what he had been doing these past few years and he did it willingly. Not concerned about anyone or anything. Only wanting revenge.

“You didn't.” Clint squeezed his eyes at her words. He knew she was thinking of her past. But she didn't do the things she did back them by herself. It was the red room and the KGB that made her do it and she had more than made up for it. She wiped the red out of her ledger years ago. She couldn't still think she had any left, did she?

“You're a pain in my ass, you know that?”

Looking at each other again, the two best friends lent their heads against each other, comforting each of them as they realised this could be the last moment they may spend together. Sighing clint pulled back slightly from their embrace.

“Okay. You win.” He breathed out. But before she could react to his words he grabbed her by her neck and threw her down on the ground, effectively knocking the wind out of her lungs and making her eyes slam shut at the sudden blow. Holding her down on the ground clint looked at his friend and gave her a sad smile.

“Tell my family I love them.”

Finding her strength again, Natasha manoeuvres her arm to grab her widow bite and pushes him off as she shocks him. She stands her foot on his chest to keep him down.

“Tell them yourself.”

Using Clint's body as a step she pushes herself of him and makes way for the cliff. As she runs her breath quicken in fright. Every pace she moved flashes of her life overtook her. Her memories from the red room, clint sparing her, becoming an Avenger, meeting wanda and Peter, falling in love with Steve, the snap… James. James had saved her life all those years ago. Her beautiful boy, hair just like his dads. He was perfect in every way. Of course, she didn't want to die, she didn't want to leave her baby, but if she could sacrifice herself to bring half the universe back then she would. James would be okay, he would have the biggest family in the world to take care of him. And Clint would have his family back, the archer had saved her life all those years ago and now she was about to return the favour.

However, as she approached the edge. She was forced back by a hand pulling on the back of her uniform, the force of the action swinging her around until she was rolling on the floor in the opposite direction of the cliff.

As she steadied herself from the spinning, Natasha sees Clint make his way to the cliff. She gets up and runs over to him, enticing him into a fight. As they struggle to gain the upper hand, Natasha gives him a hard blow to the face, he's taken aback from the hit, making him dizzy for a few seconds. But those few seconds were long enough for Natasha to make her move, turning away from Clint, she runs to the edges and jumps.

Her mind races as she falls. The wind winding around her body, whistling at the weight of her falling.

As she falls, she tries to flood her mind with images of her family. The Avengers. Steve. James.

But suddenly the air is different, the whistling even louder.

Hitting her from the side is a large figure. It's Clint. He jumped after her. Reaching for her body as they fall, Clint grabs onto her and latches on a device to her back. A device he had swiped from her just minutes earlier.

Clint throws the cord upwards to attach to debree at the ledge top, the sudden stop almost gives her whiplash, but it doesn't stop her from reaching out for Clint's hand. Natasha grips it as hard as she can, holding his entire weight beneath her. But he's too heavy. She's strong, she always had been, especially since the red room had administrated their version of the serum. But he was still too heavy and bigger than her. There was no way of holding his weight with her own strength whilst a single cord held them both up. A cord that was specifically designed for her size.

Throwing her head up to the ledge she sees has secured her to the cliff.

“Damn you!” There are tears in her eyes as she shouts at him. But Clint just smiles back at her.

“Let me go.” His voice is barely a whisper, but she hears it loud as day.

“No. please don't.” Natasha pleads with him, his weight is getting too much now, and she can't hold onto him with two hands without letting go of the cord but if she lets go of the cord she'll be flipped and they'll both fall. As she cries, Clint can feel her tears hitting him from above as she looks upon him.

“It's okay, Tasha it's okay. Laura will be okay. She will, they all will. Tell them I love them.” She can hear the strain in his voice as he tries to speak gently, he doesn't want to cause her more pain. So he just gives her a smile. Tears now filling up his own eyes. Natasha screams out again, her grip faulting and she clutches on with dear life.

Dangling from her hand, the archer pushes his foot against the stone of the cliff, giving him leverage and enough power to push against it. Natasha is too weak from holding him up to secure her hand around his, the force of his push detaches their grips, effectively making him fall.  But even though he was facing Natasha, all Clint could see were images of his family. The day he met Laura, god, he thought he was punching well above his weight. He remembered the day he had proposed. It was really shitty to be honest, just the two of them eating takeout watching rubbish tv in the middle of the night after coming back from one of his first few missions, but he wouldn't have changed it for the world. Seeing her eyes light up at the little ring he had bought her. He remembered his exact feeling when she had told him she was pregnant with Cooper, their first child. That was nearly 20 years ago believe it or not. He still carries around the scan pictures with him, after all this time. His eldest son would have been 20 this year, his daughter, 17 and Nate, 8.

They were everything to him, his entire life. So as he fell, his last moments were thinking of them. Remembering Laura's kisses, his children's voices and hugs.

Just them.

As the redhead watched her oldest friend fall further away from her she screams in disdain.

“Clint!”

The sound of his body hitting the ground is one that will haunt her for the rest of her life.

All she can do as she peers down at her friend's lifeless body is sob and cry. Her breath catching in her throat every time she breathes out.

But then the sky lights up. The two identical structures that sit at the edge of the cliff glow with a blue light and it pushes from the bottom upwards into the sky, creating a ring of blue as it pulses through the dark grey clouds.

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

Shooting her eyes open, Natasha gasped for air like she had been starved of it. Looking around her she realised she was laid down in a shallow lake of water. Slowly sitting herself up, Natasha made herself horizontal to the ground she sat on. The events of a few minutes ago coming back to her.

Then she realises there's something in her hand.

Opening up her left palm, a warm orange glow lights up her face as she brings it closer to her.

The soul stone.

There was only one reason she would have it.

Natasha knew that the exchange was done. A soul for a soul, clint was gone. Closing her eyes, Natasha clutched the stone to her chest and pulled her legs up closer to her, letting out cries at the realisation that he was gone forever.

[douxreviews]

Legends of Tomorrow - ‘Egg MacGuffin’ Review

"I’m sorry that our first date got ruined by Nazis."

The Legends of Tomorrow episode title game is really on point this year.

Forgive me in advance if this is overexplaining, but I'm not entirely sure how well known the terms are and it's going to become relevant in a minute. If you already know the terminology better than I do, and I'm sure many of you do, I beg your indulgence.

A 'MacGuffin' is the term for a plot device that exists solely to provide motivation to the characters in a story. The example that's most often cited at this point is the titular Maltese falcon statue in The Maltese Falcon. This is a subtly different thing than 'phlebotinum,' which we discussed a few episodes back. Generally speaking, phlebotinum is a made up thing that facilitates the character's journey, for example, polyjuice potion. A MacGuffin is a made up thing that motivates the character to make the journey, for example the sorcerer's stone. Or philosopher's stone if you live in a country where the publisher wasn't afraid of accidentally teaching children the word 'philosopher.'

The real takeaway is that Legends of Tomorrow has now given me an excuse to explain both of those terms, and regularly allows me pretentiously discuss semiotics, and is therefore the best thing ever broadcast. But I digress.

The genius of this week's episode title is that the golden egg that Nate and Zari are looking for at the Adventurers Club is unequivocally a MacGuffin with no significance of its own beyond that (at least this week).  In fact, part of the plot of that storyline explicitly involves Nate and Zari questioning exactly that point, and they come to the conclusion that it is a MacGuffin that Sara planted just to give them an exciting first date. Which is clever because it isn't a MacGuffin within the story we're watching, but it absolutely is a MacGuffin from the outside perspective, and you know it might actually be possible to be too clever about these things. Whatever your personal tolerance for post-modern narrative gameplaying, I really enjoyed it.

Now, in the past I've complained a bit here and there about the fact that the Legends' reduced number of episodes in a season often makes them condense what could be two or three episodes worth of plot into one. I'm not sure if I've just gotten used to it or if they're getting better at it, but I've really begun to enjoy the fast, breezy clip at which these episodes move. Nate and Zari are really just doing an extended Raiders of the Lost Ark homage, and a nice zippy pace is essential for that kind of romantic adventure fiction. The Ark of the Covenant itself, while we're speaking, is another classic example of a MacGuffin. I'm certain that was not coincidental.

In any case, I think I'm pretty well sold on the Zari and Nate romance, and I think it's down to one particular moment in this episode. When they realize that Sara has set them up on a romantic mission, Zari offers to call it a night and return to the ship, and Nate says, 'Or we could see where this mission takes us.' What he's clearly really saying is, 'Hey, I'm open to exploring whatever this is going on between us if you are, but there's no pressure.' I don't seem to go a week without mentioning how refreshingly adult the characters on this show are.

In fact, part of why the aforementioned fast and breezy pace felt so appropriate this week all around is because the show has romance stories on its mind. We have Sara and Ava, thankfully post-argument, making an effort for one another in the little ways. We have Mick and Charlie at Romanticon, attempting to cash in on Mick's authorial alter ego, Rebecca Silver, without actually having to reveal himself to his fans. Which is so completely on brand for both of them that I loved every second of it. God bless Mick, both for actually caring about his fans and for being willing to admit the fact when pressed.

Then finally we have my current relationship on the show, Ray and Nate. I realize I went on a bit about this last week, but I just can't say enough about how great their friendship is. Thank you, whoever on the writing team made the decision that Ray would give up his soul to Neron in order to save Nate's life, as opposed to Nora's. Neron said he would make Ray kill someone he loved in order to break him, and the show went with Nate as that person. Is it possible to platonically 'ship a couple? Because I am totally team Palmwood.

That was an unfortunate first attempt at a couple name. Please leave alternate suggestions in the comments.

Which leads me to the painful part. There were a number of little clues as to what was coming for Gary, but I really only noticed them in hindsight. When Sara is discussing who the murderer could be in book club, she mentions that it must be the dogwalker because of his pent up frustration and being treated like a doormat. The shot transitions from her to the next scene halfway through the line, which means we're hearing her but looking at Gary. The subplot about Vincent the Adventurer's assistant is basically a mirror of Gary's position. And Gary is clearly crying in the bathroom – a thing that he had just told us he often did – when Ray calls him and he drops everything to go help.

Gary Green, on paper, should not work as a character. He should come across as a caricatured doofus, occasionally good for a comic relief moment. But Adam Tsekhman invests him with something undefinable and real, and he just fundamentally works as a tragic figure despite all the reasons that he shouldn't.

Also, whoever planned out that Gary's nipple returning from Hell would be the final temptation that makes him give in to Neron is a mad genius and should be our leader now.

Everybody remember where we parked:

The Waverider did some proper time travel for the first time in what feels like ages and took most of the team to the Adventurers Club, 1933, in order to retrieve that golden egg. Mick and Charlie, meanwhile, take the jump ship to Romanticon, 2019. Gary uses his time courier to flit between 2019 and the Waverider, and Neron and minion-Gary appear to lift Damien Darhk's old time travel stone from Constantine and use it to leave for destinations unknown.

Remember when time travel seemed like an exclusive and exotic thing?

Quotes:

Sara: "Honestly, with Neron gone, catching fugitives has never been easier. I thought it was gonna take all week."

Zari: "It was that awkward, huh?" Sara: "Even the mummy thought it was awkward."

Nate: "Excuse me, my good man, could you point me to the nearest facilities? I have an urgent need to… uh... relieve my bowel."

Nate: "Wait. Trip wires. This is going to require one of us to squeeze through these trip wires, maneuvering our bodies in unexpected ways." Zari: "Are you asking me to do that?" Nate: "No, I’m asking you to hold my coat."

Ava: "Honestly, I usually just drink rose and let Mona go on and on."

Gary: "I may not be a master of the dark arts, but I am an intern of the dark arts."

Ava: "Were you guys about to hook up?" Zari: "No. no, no, no, no." Nate: "It was definitely on the table."

Bits and Pieces:

-- This show just doesn't do misunderstandings for dramatic effect. Nora immediately told John that Ray was possessed as soon as she woke up. Neron repeatedly goes out of his way to clarify that he's the one doing evil things, not Ray, even when it would really be in Neron's best interest to let the Legends think otherwise, thus driving them apart. That might be the thing I appreciate most about the writing.

-- It seemed odd at first that Mona didn't already know about Mick being Rebecca Silver, but on reflection it makes sense.

-- Loved the Garima cosplay at Romanticon.

-- How many books has Mick had time to write by this point? I mean, I suppose time travel would help with that, but I lost track of how many different titles they mentioned. I particularly liked Raw Hides.

-- Mick's final speech to the con about how all anybody really wants is to feel a connection was a lovely piece of writing, well performed. And a hell of a good underscoring to what was happening to Gary at that moment.

-- I get why they didn't do it, but it would have been smarter for Charlie to have shape shifted into a neutral third party to portray Rebecca. That said, I adored the Rita Skeeter vibe she had going on with her outfit.

-- Outside of the Rita Skeeter vibe, we also had phoenix feathers and a dragon egg. I'm sure there were a few other Harry Potter nods that I missed beside those. Anyone?

-- And speaking of the egg, it's a neat bit of long term plotting that what was just a MacGuffin this week is clearly set up at the end to be relevant to a different plotline later.

-- It's entirely in character for John Constantine to be rude and speak to Gary like that in a moment of stress, but the whole sequence of events felt sadder to me when I thought about the considerate way that he sheltered Gary's feelings last week.

-- I've noticed that they've gotten into the habit lately of consistently leaving someone on the Waverider to 'Quarterback' the mission. That's not only hugely useful for splitting up the characters and facilitating different schedules, it's also a really sound battle tactic.

-- Note added after the writing of this review.  Apparently 'Egg MacGuffin' is the official name of this sort of thing as cited on tvtropes, and not an original pun coined by the writers here.  Ah, well.  Still a clever title for how it was used here.

I loved this episode from beginning to end.  How can we only have three more left?

Three and a half out of four, and the only reason it's not higher is I suspect I'm going to need a higher number to go to in the next few episodes.

Feel free to mention your favorite MacGuffin in the comments.

Mikey Heinrich is, among other things, a freelance writer, volunteer firefighter, and roughly 78% water.

[theinquisitivej]

SteamHeart Episode 19 Reactions

Chapter 19: The Woman on the Zinc Mine

The final cover of SteamHeart is really something else - and yes, I’m going to be using it more for these posts as I go on.

You can listen to the full episode here.

         Having arrived in Missouri, the party make their way to the zinc mines where “Agent Z” resides. Abigail is uneasy as she assesses the fortifications, reminding herself of her time at Weirwood where, due to her position as one of Katherine’s most trusted seconds, protection and fortification of a small-scale settlement and its population was a daily concern that she became heavily involved with. Abigail knows what’s needed to keep a residence safe from those who would take advantage of isolated settlements cut off from the protection of densely inhabited civilisation, and the appearance of the yard in front of them doesn’t reassure her. They’re shown in by Jae-Hyun, a stoic gentleman who cuts a striking figure in his bowler hat. As he asks them not to get his boss too excited before introducing her, we see the bone-collecting, piano-playing, enterprising Tabitha for the first time in a long, long while. We see why Jae-Hyun said what he did when she steps out in the late stages of pregnancy, telling us that while Jae-Hyun may be rather serious and stern in character, he is nevertheless deeply caring and protective of the woman he works for.

         Abigail once again demonstrates her open affection for the people she forms connections with, being the first to greet Tabitha, immediately stepping forward to excitedly, but tenderly hug her friend who she hasn’t seen in ages. Tabitha tells her and the group that, while there are other mines here and there, she’s proud to say that hers is the source of most of the zinc that gets sent to the government. Hearing this and the way she discusses the state of things at this site she has taken responsibility for is impressive as hell, and another fine example of New Century continuously providing us with examples of inspiring women in positions of power who have a real aptitude for it. It’s also especially encouraging to learn that Tabitha has achieved all of this during her pregnancy. First, that’s an impressively short timescale for her to have set all this up. And second, I appreciate this story showing us a female character whose agency isn’t suddenly taken away once she’s pregnant. Tabitha had a goal in mind, and she was highly motivated to make it a reality; her pregnancy is obviously a big deal, and it will undoubtedly affect things moving forward, but it doesn’t change her drive or her capability, and that’s really cool to see.

         We get set up with something akin to a sidequest, though it’s a sidequest that aligns with the group’s main journey as they set out for Wind Doors to study and interact with. Tabitha’s running low on people to secure this place, and the supply line has been interfered with by groups who either want to profit off the zinc, or otherwise just cause trouble and have their way. She’s called for help multiple times, but nothing’s come of it. Tabitha suggests she show the group the local Wind Door, and then they can move on to Jefferson to request a garrison for backup. The problem, however, is that while Tabitha and her group have held out up till now, she’s weeks, possibly even days away from giving birth, and the crew of SteamHeart aren’t planning on leaving her, particularly James, as the only doctor at hand. What with this being fiction, I’m inclined to agree that odds are Tabitha will go into labour right as the group comes under attack.

         We move on to a section narrated by Jeremy; the group’s first encounter with a Wind Door. The journey of this sequence is powerful and compelling. Jeremy’s anticipation as he approaches a portal to another world, the manifestation of everything that drives him, is intensely felt as he describes the scene as if he were looking at the most beautiful painting. You get the impression that, even if he wasn’t recording his thoughts like this, this majestic scene of something singular and otherworldly being hidden in this obscure corner of the world would nevertheless be burned into his memory forever. The conversation about finding/making a ladder tall enough for someone to reach the portal makes it plain, however, that even if what would happen next did not occur, his dream of throwing himself at the portal and seeing what happens next was an impossibility. Jeremy chides himself for not thinking of bringing a ladder, but the truth is it would be unlikely for a 30 foot step-ladder to exist, making one would take time they don’t have, and, even if they did manage all of that, they still wouldn’t be able to chance someone inadvertently falling through the other side, presumably to their death, considering the height of the Wind Door. There’s too many factors at play which make the tantalising idea of touching this door to another world an impossibility. When Abigail begins to close the portal (looking absolutely striking as she does so with her billowing green coat and red hair as she channels her dormant powers, in an act that’s very akin to the most memorable Jean Grey moments), it pains Jeremy and the curious reader. The music combines with his narration to create a sense of something amazing happening, but at the cost of another amazing thing being taken out of this world forever. My favourite line is a simple one; as Abigail exclaims “I’m doing it!” with a great effort as she closes the portal, Matt Wardle’s delivery of Jeremy’s comment “And she really was” conveys the character’s recognition of his teammate’s achievement, and that, despite his disappointment at coming so close but falling short of his own goal, he is compassionate towards others and genuinely acknowledges what a feat Abigail is managing. The story near the beginning of SteamHeart in which the young Jeremy turns back home midway through his journey to a potentially wondrous sight for the sake of his friend told us that, for as much as Jeremy is intensely driven by his desire to see the magical and the indescribable, he does not put the safety and happiness of others before his own ambition. He demonstrates that again here, acknowledging the success that Abigail has achieved. Though it is hard not to feel some of his regret as he looks back at the site as they leave to get Tabitha back home, remembering the beautiful picture that was there a few moments ago, and now only seeing a place like any other. Its “out of date flag” shows just how forgotten by the world this place is, and how the Wind Door it once housed now has that same status of being a thing of the past.

         So yeah, no time to celebrate the portal being closed and thereby proving that this mission is doable and their struggles aren’t all for nought – Tabitha’s gone into labour! Luckily a doctor is at hand with James present, which very nearly wasn’t the case before the team showed up. So, with any luck, this should all go relatively smoothly and without any interruption, right?

…anyway, the team return to the mine and set Tabitha up in her bedroom. Hours pass, and gradually the room is reduced to just Tabitha and James as they head into a long night together. Harry enters, and asks to speak with Tabitha alone. Before James leaves, however, she intercepts him to ask a question which catches him off-guard; will he and Abigail get married one day? I mean, it’s definitely a question that’s been on shippers, er, I mean readers and listeners’ minds, so I’m just glad someone came out and asked it straight out. This scene is relayed via James’ narration, and in addition to the answer he gives Harry, we also get a glimpse of what’s been on his mind – how Abigail closed the portal on her own while he could do nothing, reinforcing the impression James has of him being “surplus to requirement” next to Abigail when it comes to their shared endowment. The pragmatic James is finding it difficult to come to terms with his inability to contribute in any way to a task of such great importance, and the good doctor seems to feel so much responsibility, whether it’s for lives that could’ve been saved if he had made different decisions, or for his patients, or for the condition he has been given. What good is this ability if it does nothing but hinder his skills as a doctor? All of these thoughts make a prospective relationship with Abigail difficult for James to envision, so he tells Harry no, thinking that his response has disappointed her. But…hmm. I’m not so sure.

         James leaves, and the role of narrator passes to Tabitha. She doesn’t have much of an idea what Harry would want with her, focusing on trying not to lash out when her next contraction comes around. Harry works her way to what she really wants to ask Tabitha, commenting on how she’s having this baby without a man around, how that’s not wrong and in fact really freaking brave, and finally tries to confirm her suspicions by asking Tabitha if she likes men, anticipating the answer to be no. The conversation that follows is sweet, wholesome, and just very healthy to hear. Tabitha plays the role of a really helpful schoolteacher – like, the kind of schoolteacher who should exist and should be teaching young people everywhere about the range of sexual orientations that exist and makes young developing people feel less awkward and less alone for feeling differently to heteronormative peers. Tabitha gently asks Harry if she’s feeling conflicted, not pushing her in any direction, but giving her the chance to air what’s been on her mind and in her heart.

         We listen to Harry as she reasons out what she’s been feeling, thinking that she’s expected to land a husband, and, if that was to be the case, then James fit the bill pretty well as someone she respects and who exhibits many of the qualities she likes in people, such as kindness, intelligence, and politeness. But even with all that on paper, the key ingredient of buzzing attraction isn’t there for her, unlike how it is with… well, when the conversation turns towards Abigail, and her pre-existing relationship with Tabitha, it becomes clear who Harry really has a thing for. Tabitha confesses that she and Abigail “spent a little time together” when they last saw each other, which, okay, is a surprise! Not that they would get together for a bit, as the way Abigail talked with Tabitha and thought about her, you could certainly see an attraction there. I guess I just never put two and two together and figured out that they might already have hooked up (and that explains Abigail’s hushed comments earlier on in the episode when she says that if she’d had known Tabitha was pregnant when they met, she would have done…something, differently).

         Anyway, Harry’s excited to hear Abigail likes boys and girls, and now says that yes, she really does have a crush on Abigail. Have I mentioned before that shipping can be so much fun in your favourite ongoing storylines with casts of lovable, fully formed characters? Well it is, and this is great, I love it. What I don’t love is the sad fact they go over next – that America’s current laws state that women aren’t allowed to marry other women. That, and the moment of tearful resignation Harry shows as she believes she can’t marry who she wants and must instead marry a man, are both heart-breaking. But fortunately, Tabitha is there to tell her that that’s not at all the case. In fact, there are other things she can do, either with herself or together with other women. Harry’s inquiring mind and aptitude for breaking difficult concepts down and understanding them as a series of mechanics drives her to ask Tabitha for guidance on being intimate with another person. A contraction comes at this moment, as Tabitha had expected, but instead of this making her hostile to Harry as she had feared it would, Harry holds her to support her through it, and when given an out when James comes back in to ask if she needs help, she reassures him and tells him to leave them alone for a little while longer. The music is calming as these two women talk, and we depart this scene, leaving the rest of the conversation to them as Tabitha continues to help Harry grow more comfortable with who she is and who she wants.

[weepylucifer]

for the prompt thing, 34, 40, or 54 with either johnchurch or johnport?

34: “How do I look?”

John had never expected to live through the Hunger’s assault on this plane, and yet here he was. Months had passed since his creation had been pulled apart and he had ended up in custody of this moon-based operation. The Director, apparently one of the original seven, had looked upon him with such fury that John had feared he’d be thrown into the deepest, darkest, most dismal dungeon that the base had to offer. The cell he’d ended up in was a light, friendly, if windowless room, sparsely but sufficiently furnished. One of the walls consisted entirely of transparent glass, made impenetrable by some kind of magical barrier, but they’d put a divider in the middle of the room to afford John his privacy. Whenever he voiced any need, it was seen to. He started journaling and got used to being the only voice in his head again.

He spoke to no one. In the first weeks, Merle had come by whenever he could spare a moment, but these visits had gotten rarer since Merle had moved planetside to devote his time to his kids. No one else here was interested in conversing with him. John thought he liked this arrangement fine, people could be so exhausting, but two months into this he had to admit it got lonely.

Today, the person that brought his lunch wasn’t the usual guard. Instead, there was a very small man dressed in some kind of livery with a harried tilt to his brows. He tapped a wand to the glass and a small, rectangular hole opened up in the barrier, just large enough to push a tray through. John was used to this, so he took the tray with an automatic thank-you. Having to crouch for this procedure was new.

The very small man scrutinized him as if waiting for John to do a magic trick. John was used to curious stares. He was also used to anger. Something about this person, though, was different.

“You seem familiar,” John said. His voice was a bit rough from disuse. “I could swear I’ve never seen you around here before, but still…”

“Your scouts probably knew of me,” the very small man said. “I’m Dav– my name is Captain Davenport. I used to lead the mission to–”

“You were the one who flew that ship!” John hurriedly put his food aside and pressed his hands to the glass. “I’ve been wondering about you for years! I’m glad to finally meet you.”

Davenport’s features were carefully impassive. “Is that so.”

“You were extremely impressive. The way you kept escaping year after year… I wondered what kind of person it would take to keep on getting away with it. You must be quite some pilot.”

“The best,” Davenport said curtly.

John nodded. He wasn’t fond of false humility. He had been the best at something too, once, and felt no shame in admitting that. If you had it, you could flaunt it. “Well, I’m glad you decided to come down here and satisfy my curiosity,” he said, keeping his voice carefully light. He wondered why Davenport was here. Merle had brought him up a few times in conversation, both in parley and afterwards, and John tried to remember what he’d said. Something about forgetting. Something about wrath.

John sighed and resolved that he wouldn’t put up a fight. If Davenport felt like taking some of that wrath out on him, he was right and welcome to. John didn’t fear pain. John didn’t fear anything. It wasn’t a heroic thing. He was simply desensitized.

But pain didn’t happen.

“Are you getting on alright?” Davenport asked stiffly, more out of politeness and perhaps a sense of duty than anything else. “Do you have everything you need?”

John inclined his head, again surprised. “Thank you.”

He expected to have seen the last of Captain Davenport, but two days later he reappeared, carrying a checkered board under his arm. “Merle said you liked chess,” he stated. He put the board on the floor right in front of the glass and sat down, cross-legged. John copied him and looked on as Davenport began assembling the pieces.

“You’ll have to make my moves for me.”

Davenport nodded.

They didn’t speak much during the game. John had fancied himself decent at chess, but he had never faced an opponent as aggressively brilliant as this. Davenport wiped the floor with him, and only smiled grimly at the victory.

“Damn,” John said as Davenport took his king. He was feeling slightly flustered, having just been so thoroughly besieged.

Davenport tugged at his whiskers. “You’re used to playing Merle. I noticed. You’re… inflexible in your strategy.”

John blinked. “Apparently so I am.” He would’ve liked to shake on it, give the game its intended conclusion. He put a hand on the glass instead. “I’d very much appreciate a rematch someday, Captain.”

Davenport looked up sharply from where he’d been putting the pieces back in the box, something indistinguishable in his eyes. After a strangely loaded moment, he shrugged. “Turnabout’s fair play,” he said and got up. “Be seeing you.”

He did indeed come by more often. Sometimes they would reminisce about cycle so-and-so when Davenport had steered the Starblaster out of harm’s way by a hair’s breadth, in a feat of unparralleled navigational skill and cunning. Mostly, they played chess in silence. John appreciated the unobtrusive company, but he would’ve also liked for Davenport to talk some more. He never divulged the purpose of his visits, but John could see that he was stewing on something. Under the prim and disciplined exterior, there was an active volcano bubbling away, and John reckoned it was a matter of time until it erupted all over him. Until that happened, however, he could keep on attempting to beat the damn gnome at chess.

One day, it was toward the evening, Davenport came in wearing some very nice slacks and a dress shirt, his moustache waxed, his hair combed carefully to one side. He was not in any kind of uniform, but still he had a faintly military air about him. John thought he could smell cologne. He suddenly felt strangely warm.

“Well?” Davenport almost barked. “How do I look?”

John absently tugged at his tie. “You look…” He tried a few adjectives in his head. Handsome. Dashing. Stalwart. Heroic. “Fine.”

“Ah? Not like some pathetic clown hell-bent on humiliating himself?”

It had come out with uncharacteristic bitterness, and it gave John pause. “Not… that at all, no. What’s the occasion?”

“I’m headed to a party. Everyone’s going to be there. There’ve been all sorts of celebrations, ever since we finally beat–” He paused abruptly.

“Me. Yes. I understand, don’t worry.” John leaned his shoulder against the glass wall. “Have a good night,” he said blandly.

Davenport frowned, then suddenly grinned, showing a lot of teeth. He got out his wand. “Would you like to come up?”

Whatever John had expected, this was not it. “I’m… beg pardon?”

“I could let you out for the night. I don’t have a plus one for the party. Hmm, how’s that sound? Have a few drinks, ruffle a few feathers, dance a little? I wasn’t half bad at it, in my day. Who’s to object? Lucretia? I used to be her Captain, for the gods’ sake, I still am.” There was a sparkle in Davenport’s eyes, and John thought he understood a bit better what kind of a man he was, that man he’d given chase to year after year after year. He sought adventure. He sought the thrill of it.

“I’m not sure that’s… prudent?”

“Ah, fuck prudence,” said Davenport. “Aren’t you raring to get out of here?”

“I’m fine here,” John demurred. “Tell me how it was, okay?”

Some few hours later, when John had already gone to sleep, he was woken up by someone loudly knocking on the glass. He came up from uneasy dreams filled with black tar hands grasping for him and pulling him into the floor, and was reasonably startled by the commotion. It was Davenport again.

“Oh, Captain,” John drawled, half-suppressing a yawn. “Back so soon? How was the party?”

Davenport tapped his wand against the glass again and was suddenly in the room with John. John immediately woke up fully. No one had ever physically come into the room before.

Davenport bent down to where John was still half-reclining on the bed, tangled a hand in John’s hair (here it comes, finally here it comes, John thought and readied for the slap) and pressed a kiss to John’s lips.

It was a hard, heated, possessive, almost angry thing, that kiss. John gasped into it, feeling his whole body surge towards Davenport, basking in the touch like a flower would bask in sunlight. When was the last time someone had physically touched him? So good, he thought disjointedly, so good and I’d forgotten.

He disengaged nonetheless. “Hey. Go and sleep it off.”

Davenport crossed his arms. “I’m not drunk.”

John raised his brows and licked his lips. He could still taste wine.

“Fine, I might be a tiny bit drunk. But gods, I just…” He huffed. “I can’t be… anything at all around these people. Oh, they’re nice about it, they’re polite. But they’re still amazed to hear me talking in complete sentences, and it shows.”

John had no idea what he was talking about. He hazarded to guess that the party hadn’t been a success.

“You know how we, the seven of us, had to spend ten years with our memories erased?”

John nodded. He vaguely recalled Merle mentioning something like that once.

“All of us lost… something when that happened. Lost a lot. But I…” Davenport huffed. “I retained nothing, absolutely nothing, save for my own name, Davenport. You can’t imagine what it was like. It was the only thing I had a clear recollection of. It was the only word I could speak. Everything else was fuzzy and indistinct. Lucretia had to keep me close by, watch over me like over a child. I couldn’t be out on my own, my mind, my personality, everything I was had been erased. And now I have my memories back, including those ten years of me acting like a mindless fool. Being belittled by everyone. Even my family, who didn’t remember me either.”

“Oh,” John said. It was a lot all at once.

“You realise, I’ve had to claw my way up into a position of authority. No one would have given a starship to a goofy little gnome. But I was simply the best there was, the best gods-damned pilot on my plane. And then Lucretia made me her simple-minded butler. Even she started to treat me differently, you know. Even she. The only one who knew who I had been.”

John had rarely encountered such bitterness anywhere outside himself. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said.

“Everyone thinks about it, you know,” Davenport said. “Everyone thinks of it constantly, when they’re talking to me. Except for you. You weren’t there. It doesn’t concern you.”

John pressed his lips together. Was he being called uncaring? Some motivational speaker, he chided himself.

“That’s what I like about you, y’know,” Davenport continued.

Wait, what?

“I used to hate you,” Davenport confided. “With every fiber of my being I used to hate you. But now you’re the only person on this base that I can have a normal conversation with. The only one who acts normal. Also Merle was right, that suit is snazzy as all hell.”

John laughed a little. “You are drunk,” he said. “Go home. No really, do. You don’t want to add this to your list of humiliations.” He carefully ushered the Captain back to the glass door, and closed it behind him. That had to be something of a first, he mused, a prisoner locking himself in.

The next morning found him nervous, ruminating on that little encounter. He kept pressing his fingers to his lips as if he could retrace the kiss. Davenport’s secret was now out; John knew why he’d kept visiting. Surely now those visits would cease; Davenport had too much pride to turn up again. Or in the best case, he would come back and act like the previous night hadn’t happened, or maybe apologize for his momentary lapse of judgement. John certainly wouldn’t be kissed or even touched again. But it would be alright. John could recall the memory of those touches again and again, ration them like he’d rationed the Light, back in the day. He could subsist on this, through another ten lean years if need be, hollow, hungry. Starved for touch.

There was the sound of a door opening, the by now familiar stride of footsteps coming closer. Ah. Best case it is.

Just seeing him, John thought. Just talking to him, that’ll be enough.

But he knew himself well. It was never enough.

Fantastic. It was just like him to saddle himself with another hunger that could never be slaked.

Davenport tapped on the glass, then folded his hands behind his back in a way again reminiscent of the military. His posture was ramrod-straight.

“John.”

“Hi.”

It was the first time Davenport had used John’s name.

The Captain cleared his throat. “I’m thinking about buying a boat.”

Huh?

It dawned on John after a moment that there was no use for a boat on the moon. Davenport was going planetside, just like Merle had. John was going to be alone again, and this was a goodbye.

Of course, he thought and felt angry at the tentative little something in his chest that wilted now. Why had he allowed that there? Hope is pointless, remember?

“That sounds like a great idea,” he said, attempting a smile. It came out uncomfortably cramped, not at all like the warm, sincere thing he had wanted. He was rusty at his trade. “You do seem like you need a change of scenery.”

Davenport nodded. “Do you know anything about sailing?”

“Nothing at all.” John looked past him into the middle distance. He wanted this conversation to be over. He wanted this conversation to last forever.

“But navigation, surely? I mean, that was your role within the Hunger, right? Tracking down the Light, guiding them to it, deploying the scouts.”

“Something like that.”

“Good enough. You’ll pick up the rest as you go, I’m sure.”

It didn’t register as making sense in John’s brain. “What…?”

“I mean,” Davenport said, suddenly almost flustered, “that is, if you even want to come. Has to be better than here, eh? We could see what’s out there, you know, see what this plane has to offer. Merle lives on a beach now, we could visit him. So what do you, ah, what do you say?” He tugged at the collar of his shirt. To John’s astonishment, two spots of red had appeared high on his cheeks.

“You… want to take… me… on your boat?”

“Well, unless you… wanna stay here… in prison for some reason. I just, I’m figuring a lot of things out. But I do know that I want to go away, and I want to take you with. It’s your choice, of course. Oh. You’re… oh. Oh dear. Hold on, I might have a handkerchief somewhere.”

As Davenport started rummaging through his pockets, John was flooded by a riot of feelings all at once. It wasn’t the end. He wasn’t alone. He would get out of this room, see the ocean again, with Davenport. There was the possibility of more touches in the future, perhaps even kisses, if he was interpreting the way that Davenport had flushed correctly.

“Open that glass. Right now.”

[abespokesuitalwaysfits]

Rebuild

The rebuild of Kingsman’s London HQ had been a harrowing task that not even Harry and Merlin were up to, but the help from Statesman and Kingsman’s satellite offices around the world made it somewhat tolerable. The only thing different about the location of the underground headquarters was the missing manor at ground level; a memorial garden was erected in its place, complete with helipad and a stone gazebo, which doubled as the on-foot entrance from the helipad.

The tailor shop was rebuilt as close to the original as the city of London could allow; some walls weren’t re-added inside and the floor plan was changed slightly to account for new safety code laws passed since the row houses had originally been built. A placard was bolted to the wall by the city’s planning officials, labeling it as a once-standing Grade II listed building, destroyed by enemies of the Crown, and rebuilt by proud Londoners looking to remember the past.

The tube system was in tact save for the twin stations, and the train was at least left intact due to being between the stations during the bombings. It was paramount that the stations were rebuilt quickly and Harry assigned the infrastrucure maintenance staff to their recreation as soon as he was sworn in as the organization’s new Arthur, and able to make decisions on his own. he still had bad days of lapsed memory or painful headaches, but it was better than being dead.

Or so Harry was told. One good halo-filled migraine could drop the strongest of men, and Harry had one a day for the first year after his return to London.

Memorials were held as often as support staff could attend them, for the agents and staff members lost in Poppy’s attack. The remaining agents; Eggsy, Percival, and reconnaissance support team leader Tristan were sent on missions as needed to keep up appearances--and to keep the world from ending--but the pending agent trials loomed like a thunderstorm. Harry knew they would be a whirlwind; Merlin could handle it as he had in the past and Harry himself would do Arthur’s part, but an entire team of new recruits was a terrible idea.

They’d be so green and so unaccustomed to the stresses of being a Kingsman agent and with so few veteran agents to coach them, it would spread Harry, Merlin, and Percival thinner than they ever had been. Tristan would surely be offered a membership at the Round Table and be sworn in as a table-knight if he so chose, but the remaining spaces would still need to be filled

Harry only hoped that Eggsy could assist but his duties as a full-time agent came first, as well as that of a new husband. He wasn’t only Eggsy Unwin or Agent Galahad any longer; he was now Herr Gary Unwin, husband of Swedish Crown Princess Tilde. He wasn’t a Swedish citizen and therefore couldn’t be titled, but if he chose to give up his British citizenship and choose one of Sweden, his titles could change.

It seemed everyone had title changes of some kind.

[thecharmingknightemma]

bandit/criminal au in the EF and in this world - about page for mobile

biography/about for Bandit Swan in the Enchanted Forest

AU of an AU where the curse happens but ten years later, and Regina keeps them in the Enchanted Forest while Emma is outside of the dome that surrounds the cursed land, her memories wiped by Rumplestiltskin: one day she will be led back to the kingdom and be their Savior, and that was part of the future he saw for her so he followed it. That and saving the little girl by making a deal, so that she’ll owe him two favors for it: one day he’d come and demand her son, another day when Emma is the Savior and the curse is broken, he’ll demand she’ll reunite him with his son as well. So all she knows is that she was “surely” abandoned around the time the curse hit, was found in beggar’s clothes, that her name is Emma (but she always goes by Swan) and that she has a necklace with a swan on it (which is the only thing he let her keep, a present from the fairies, and the reason why the fairies can recognize her and, at least the ones outside of the dome, help her survive). Only read if you are interested in something new/different from princess Emma. 

in this page:

-personality (important!) -full story in the EF (pick the long or the short one) -short backstory in the EF -other general information (sorta important) -ef verses

-in our world, straight from an about post -our world verses

Personality: She's truly not used to talking much to people unless it’s to buy, sell, steal, sleep with a man or threaten someone. The one version of Emma that is basically a killing machine due to her obsession for revenge and years spent training to be unbeatable, this is the Emma who can absolutely keep up with anyone. After all, after a hell of a hard life she was made to believe that her baby had been taken and likely murdered just to pay her back for stealing food, and that was after being betrayed by the baby’s father as well, so her life is all about killing the people behind it.

Gruff, often angry, very appreciative of money and whatever can get her more money, revenge-driven, but also with her own sense of humor, flirty, sometimes crass; Emma exaggerates how greedy she is, how much she 'doesn't care' about people, except she can't really resist helping if someone is truly good or in trouble, she's confused by kindness and suspicious of it, but loyal to her word, and has felt so much rejection, pain, loss and injustice that she became more cynical and is often in a bad mood, BUT cannot find in herself to be the kind of person who says 'love doesn't exist' or 'love is weakness'. Just because it didn't work for her, doesn't mean it can't be there for others. Flirty, very sexual (even if often it just means fading to black). Children are, naturally, a weak spot, as well as animals. She’ll sleep around for fun (even if I usually fade to black) as long as it’s dark or she can properly keep her face covered, because Regina put a curse on everything that can show her reflection, and any reflective surface will immediately tell her where Emma is, which means that not only she had to change her name into Swan because Emma had to be ‘dead’, but she hasn’t seen her own face in years and has no idea of what she really looks like now. She still wears flowers in her hair, not knowing she picked that from her mother.  

FULL NAME: Emma but no one knows, she goes by Swan. Also known as the Swan Bandit

NOTICEABLE TRAITS: she can never show her face because if a reflection catches it, Regina will find her, so she constantly changes from scarves to masks for her eyes, generally keeps herself covered by a cloak with hood as well, bulky clothes, tall boots, which give the impression she's a tall, big person with a face nearly completely covered and no hair in sight. (Underneath, she still likes to style her hair as *pretty* as possible because she refuses to give that up). A scar over her heart where one of Regina's man started stabbing her.

AGE: 27-28 depending on the thread or older.

GENDER: cis female

ROMANTIC AND SEXUAL ORIENTATION: straight

MENTAL ILLNESSES: PTSD at the very least.

FULL VERSION OF THE BIO

Emma's story. You can skip this and go to the short bio, but don't skip the other points, please.

Instead of sending the whole Enchanted Forest in a world without magic, the curse hits only part of it and keeps everyone where they are, trapping them inside its limits forever, unable to age and to have a happy ending, giving them fake memories and making Regina the only queen that they can remember. This happens when princess Emma is ten and it's when the curse is coming that she meets Rumplestiltskin for the first time: the Dark One takes her away, out of the barrier, right before she's trapped with everyone else. Emma asks him for help, wanting to save her family, and a deal is struck: in exchange for his help she will owe him two favors: she accepts and her memories of her life at the castle are taken away. For the next seven years Emma is a thief, a lost girl with the same hopeful spirit that runs in her family, until she gets pregnant and engaged and uses the money she gained in the previous years to found them a home and start doing more 'honorable jobs' with her fiancé Arian. It's a month after giving birth to Harry that the Dark One shows up again for the first favor she owes him, demanding her first-born son, saying he will bring him to Queen Regina because she wants her baby. With her son stolen because of a bargain that she barely remembers, Emma makes her life-mission to find a way to break the barrier that keeps her out of the cursed kingdom and take him back, possibly killing Rumplestiltskin and Regina in the process.

She knows she still owes him one favor and that is likely to cost her her life.

Between spending her life mostly alone - a thief is never seen as anything more than a thief, no matter how kind she was - and not remembering having a family, especially because Rumplestiltskin left her alone after taking her memories and led her to believe she had been abandoned, losing her son was the last straw that made her lose all hope. She kept to only steal from the rich, trying to be honorable, living in the same house she had been able to share with her baby for a month but not feeling like the same person anymore. All she knew was that it had been her fault too, it had all started the day when she had stolen apples from one of Regina's carriages. It was a year before losing her child and, again, the Dark One led her to believe that that was the reason why Regina wanted her dead. Not only that but the man she had chosen, she had trusted, the father of her baby was quick to run away without them, telling the Dark One where she was going to hide with the baby because too scared, betraying them right before they could find refuge in the fairies' territory. (The fairies know who Emma is, Nova is her godmother and in charge now that Blue is trapped, but Rumplestiltskin threatened to kill Emma if they told her before it was time, so they help her as much as they can while trying to keep the Enchanted Forest from falling apart)

By now Emma has almost forgotten how to be around people unless she needs to make an exchange or wants to have some fun with a man for a night, she has not many social skills left nor she cares about finding new friends. If anything, she doesn't want anyone to be attached to her nor she wants to have feelings. She just wants to take her son back, away from Regina, and get him to safety before the Dark One will show up again for the next 'favor'.

What really happened back then was that Rumplestiltskin told the queen that he had met Emma, the daughter of Snow, and that he refused to kill her because they had a deal. He suggested Regina to ask him to take the baby away from Emma instead because Emma owed him her first born, and then Regina would be free to destroy Emma on her own if she wanted. With this, he made sure that Emma would always try to sneak inside the kingdom and eventually succeed when twenty-eight, and that Regina would pay for trying to trap him inside of the cursed kingdom after changing the curse that he had given her, the curse he had needed to get to Baelfire. Now he will wait until the curse is broken before asking Emma to tell her son to follow him inside the enchanted wardrobe and help him find Baelfire - so that Henry will follow him to avoid his birth-mother's death. Meanwhile, the queen has been told a little too late that killing Emma would break the curse and while she doesn't want her man to take her heart anymore, she wants them to capture her so that she can curse her and make sure she'll never break it. She grew to love Henry as a son and doesn't want to risk losing him. At the present she has no idea that she and the Swan Bandit are the same person. She looks for her with her mirrors, which is why Emma covers herself from head to toe, and everything is going the way Rumplestiltskin wanted, different curse or not. Here is a drabble with the day when she lost Harry, who became Henry after Regina took him.

SHORT BIO

From her point of view, she has no memory of who she was from before she found herself wandering in the forest alone, in beggar clothes and about to starve until the fairies found her; she thinks she has been abandoned around the time when the curse hit because nobody looked for her and she was too far from the barrier to have escaped on her own. She only has the swan necklace as a hint of who she was and remembers that her name is Emma. She also remembers that she made a deal with Rumplestiltskin before her loss of memories but she doesn't know what she got in exchange for the two favors that she owes him since then. She is a thief and when she turned seventeen she had a son with a fellow thief named Arian, settling down in a village that was being kept hidden by the same fairies that had saved her life in the woods; a month after giving birth to "Harry" Rumplestiltskin showed up and demanded to take the baby so that he could bring him to Regina, telling Emma that the queen wanted him because of "what she was"; Emma had stolen apples from one of her carriages right before getting pregnant and therefore had to believe that the reason why Regina took her baby and later sent men to kill her was because of those apples.

Emma now wants both of them dead, possibly together with her former 'lover' as well, because her fiancé was the one who told Rumplestiltskin where to find her right before she could hide herself and the baby in the cave that the fairies occupied near her village. Of course she also wants her kid back, even if she knows that it won't last long because she still owes Rumplestiltskin one favor. She has no hope left, which is why she has already asked to the fairies, to Nova, to take the kid with them once Rumplestiltskin will come back for the second favor.

She'll also be an ally of any person who wants them dead.

Regina cursed every reflection so that she'll know where Emma is as soon as a glimpse of her face will be caught by one, so Emma had to abandon her identity and name and start covering her face and going by "Swan". At the moment, she's looking for a way to break in the cursed kingdom, which is nothing but half of the Enchanted Forest kept hidden from sight by a barrier, with inside all the royals and people that lived there and now don't remember who they are. Time has stopped and only Regina can leave as she pleases, though she keeps controlling her soldiers who are left outside through the mirrors - and is waiting for them to find Emma and bring her where she can hurt her. The rest of the forest, without the many royals who were for a reason or another trapped away, fell into chaos, divided in little towns under the control of whoever was strong enough to take it, and is starting to forget how life was before.

OTHER GENERAL INFORMATION

She often has what sounds like a Southern accent from our world because of the places she has visited, accent that disappears when she has her walls down. It's mostly used on purpose to be as different from the "Emma" that she knows Regina is looking for as possible.

She sleep thirty minutes every four hours.

She always wears her swan necklace. It was a gift from the Blue Fairy and kept her from forgetting her name. Also, she has a necklace with her engagement ring as a pendant. She also wears flowers in her hair (like her mother) and has one of her father’s swords (the latter thanks to Nova)

Emma's weakness are kids. She'll pretend not to like them like she pretends not to like everyone else or at least try to do that, but not for long and not believably. Not even the kids take her seriously. Same goes for pets.

She loves food with passion (and cooking it). Especially chocolate and strawberries. Also dresses and weapons. But mostly food. She really doesn’t appreciate to find that people are surprised when she shows to like dresses and feminine accessories.

She has a scar on her chest, over her heart. It’s very noticeable and she tends to hide it with her clothes in every way she can.

The animals of the forest still recognize her as a princess (and friend of fairies thanks to her necklace) and treat her as such, responding to her singing too. Especially swans.

bandit Emma verses

v. Swan bandit: for general verses about her bandit years including her time in the cursed kingdom

v. bandit princess: for verses after the curse is broken 

IN OUR WORLD

The backstory for our world is still a work in progress. It exists but I haven't had the time to put it properly into words, just to play it, so I'll write here the first draft, straight from one of my posts:

Not long after she's born, Emma's parents are forced to give her up by Regina, and then Regina makes it so that every time she’s fostered it’s by abusive families, so Emma keeps either reacting with violence and escaping or just escaping and living in the streets as a child too, and manages to personally get in trouble with Regina in her teens because she’s already a good fighter for obvious reasons, as well as a thief.

She slips away from Regina’s watch then just long enough to be taken in by the Swans (Elsa, Anna and their parents) when 14, stays there more or less three years, the first years of a healthy life, gets pregnant, runs away with Arian, the boyfriend, to protect everyone and the baby from Regina, Arians rats her out when caught and scared, she gets her baby taken and is made believe that he was killed by Regina, when in reality Regina took him in as a son. She also left Emma to die, but she survived the gunshot and wounds and fire, escaped because she wanted to avenge her baby before letting herself die.

And then Emma spends the next ten years becoming an amazing thief/mercenary/fighter and looking for a way to kill Regina.

And then she finds her parents because they have a whole organization going, with people screwed over by Regina, and it’s a happy accident but she’s also very confused about how to feel and what to do over that, and THEN finds out Henry is alive and it changes her life and plans. She finally takes him back, only doesn’t kill Regina for Henry but has her arrested, uses the resources she has to clean up her records, to have a new identity, not that she was ever caught, and ends up living with her son and parents and trying to learn how to be A PERSON

with Henry she’s sweet and patient and the mother she wanted to be, but with everybody else? She never learned how to communicate properly, left her friends when she was seventeen to never have any again, is rude, she is aggressive, has big anger issues, loses patience easily and can be insensitive when she does even when it’s not on purpose, lots of petnames also because she doesn’t pay attention to names or people or what people say, believes in being fair so she can be extra judgy when she thinks someone isn’t, might sleep around a lot but god knows she’s not one to stay and have pillow talk, is kind to animals and children because they are innocent, is unsure of what’s even appropriate to say, only does favors for money, until she gets Henry doesn’t want anyone to be close to her because she intends to die when she kills Regina, after Henry she TRIES to be more social and to learn how to be around people.

verses:

v. in the system: threads about her life up until she gets pregnant and runs away. Including life with the Swans or changing depending as needed.

v. mother in hiding: threads about her life while hiding either pregnant or after Henry is born (Arian is there when he can, but also works best he can). They are hiding in a forest in Utah, near places where hunters go stay every now and then.

v. the angry swan: threads set after Henry is taken from her and seemingly killed; she's living as a criminal and doing everything she can to find a way to kill the powerful Regina. 

 v. I found you: threads set from the moment she finds out either Henry or her parents are alive, and include everything that happens after that.

[daddygraves]

Inktober Day 11. Seasons

This is probably the shittiest thing I’ve ever written so I apologise it’s a mess

Yay day 11!

@iffy-kanoknit

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ There’s a yearning in autumn. Mourning the warmth, and the lives who fell like the leaves in a melody of orange, yellow and brown. Cold winds, and chapped hearts, slowly stacking the house of cards back up, piece by piece.

Eggsy in autumn is wit and jokes, but also quiet tears around corners when no one else is listening. A bowling ball of guilt carried around beneath that immaculate bespoke, game face slapped on so no one, not even the people closest to him realise he is crumbling.

But Harry knows. Harry sees the misery behind the laughs, the true source of determination behind the rebuilding process of Kingsman. And Harry is the one who finds Eggsy at his lowest, in the safety of their rented home, and holds him as he shatters. Tears for Roxy and the other Kingsman knights, for Merlin,for Brandon and his precious pug, JB. For all his sins, begging inbetween sobs for Harry, for god to forgive him for his mistakes, that led to so much destruction.

Eggsy in autumn is a glass man- everything looks shiny and wonderful on the outside, but if he drops, he will break. But he finds the strength to hold Harry up too, when gospel music makes older knees go shaky, and a single gunshot rips Harry from sleep, screaming. His young love wipes the sweat from his brow, and sings sweet nothing until Harry surrenders back to sleep.

In winter there’s redemption.

Winter and its freezing kisses of snow and ice, with festivities that no one feels much like celebrating, after the year they’ve had. Plus HQ 2.0 isn’t even close to finished yet, the tailor shop is finished, but none of Kingsman’s several new employees, poached from the FBI, CIA, MI5 and various other organisations have been around long enough to form real bonds. So Harry spends Christmas alone. Except for Eggsy. With snowflakes dusting his shoulders and cheeks flushed pink, numb with cold, putting freezing toes on Harry’s back in bed. Grey skies that make green eyes pop against all the white, rugged up against the chill. A bleak pallor still hangs over them both, but Michelle Unwin’s Christmas cooking and Daisy’s happy shrieks manage to chase away the gloom, even just for a little while. Especially when just after New Years, a cyber-legged Scotsman walks back into HQ one morning without warning, accompanied by a hulking cowboy, demanding to know where his office was and to give him his bloody clipboard back.

It’s the first time Harry’s seen Eggsy genuinely laugh since before Kentucky. And then they all burst into tears, with poor Tequila caught in the midst of an unforgiving group hug. The world seems a lot more palatable with the knowledge that Merlin was still in it.

Once they finally get over the unexpected return of the resident tech whiz, spring wafts around. Thing that went wrong last year have been buried, and from the ashes born anew.

Time might not heal all wounds, but it does allow for processing, for grieving, for acceptance. So Harry buys Eggsy a plane ticket to Stockholm, because the boy hadn’t the courage to do it himself, and tells him, genuinely, honestly, to go and finalise the divorce. The heart gives in to commonalities, the fickle thing. Because the wordless, raw understanding of each other’s emotions, each other’s pain may have draw Eggsy and Harry together, like moths to a flame. But this understanding also broke many other things- trust, fidelity. The heart of a Swedish princess.

It’s slightly scary, sending a young lover off to meet with his ex. Harry does worry that these newly budding petals of Eggsy’s will be chapped again by frost. But Tilde agrees. So when Eggsy comes home at the end of the week, Harry sits on the sofa and strokes his lover’s delicate blond locks with one hand, Hamish’s silky fur with the other, and listens. To how the princess and the spy drank their way through a good portion of Sweden’s best wine as they signed the divorce papers, hugged, cried and woke up with horrific hangovers.That shotgun wedding built on glass and misconceptions, on selfish motives and agendas, replaced with true understanding and a vow of lifelong friendship. Because true strength is not pushing something broken to the very edge, but recognising when it’s time to give up a long dead ghost. Love, but not in that way, from both fronts. And more than a bit of relief from the King and Queen, who Harry he knew didn’t approve from the start, but feigns surprise when Eggsy announces this fact. Because sometimes, words need cushions.

But that trip, though heartrending, seems to only fertilise the tender fronds sprouting from Eggsy. He throws his heart and soul into Kingsman, even more so than before- but a different kind of dedication to the solemn, teeth gritting slog of months prior. This is effortless, joyful, honouring the memories of those fallen as they would want to be remembered. And hands that make Harry’s coffee just right, in his favourite mug, steaming for him each morning on his desk. Harry Hart sees the young man he picked up from Holborn police station again, new and improved, as the puzzle pieces fall back into place. This Eggsy has a flicker of his spark back, a matchstick in a tunnel.

Summer, glorious summer. New faces, old faces. New mansion, old location, with a beautiful memorial fountain inlaid with a certain logo. Old Harry and old Eggsy, but also new ones, blended together like coffee and milk, until none could tell where the old or new began. Maybe item does heal all wounds, because Eggsy shines, almost so brightly Harry’s eyes hurt. The past, carried with him every single day, but learnt from, grown from, the fuel that pushes the boy to take that extra mission, fire that extra shot, push harder. And to come home to Harry each time, sing in the shower, leave the bedcovers messy, and live. Truly live each day, with vigor, and love, and humanity.

Because each burning step uphill, every setback, every heartbreak; every laugh, every tear, every breath or heartbeat; in autumn, in winter, in spring and summer; solidifies what Harry already knows. And what Merlin, Tequila and eventually all of Kingsman’s newly forged knights have been groaning to Harry about.

“Eggsy?”

That strong jaw turns to face him in their kitchen, sleeves rolled to elbows, halfway through the washing up. There’s a tiny dot of pasta sauce on the younger man’s cheek, and Harry absently rubs it off with his thumb. “I love you, my dear boy.”

A toothy smile turns Eggsy’s lips in the way Harry knows they do, just for him. “I know.”

[sopheronipepperoni]

Someone to Lean On

[In which Sara takes up yoga to manage her stress. Liam, in typical fashion, is all in.]

"Oh boy." Sara's breath left her lungs in a whoosh. "I didn't expect it to feel quite like that."

She was curled in a ball on the floor of her cabin, back to surface and knees to chest. Her sunny hair was arrayed around her head in a fuzzy halo. The audio on the asari yoga vid had faded away heartbeats ago; quiet breaths and soft ambient music filled the space.

"Yoga is a mind-body technique which can help reduce stress levels and increase anxiety control. Your job as Pathfinder places a heavy burden on your body; relaxing and stretching your muscles regularly can increase your general wellness." SAM's voice, while it was at a normal volume, was not at odds with the soft atmosphere of the room.

"Well, it's doing something right, because I could stay in this —what is it called? Vanhasaya? —forever." Her eyes were closed; her body felt heavy as she sank into the floor. Completely relaxed.

"I believe that posture is called 'shavasana'."

"Shavasana." Sara rolled the word around on her tongue, tasting its smooth sibilants and easy vowels. She'd need to thank Lexi for the recommendation next time she saw the doctor. "SAM, can you schedule time tomorrow for another session? I'd like to try this again."

"Of course, Pathfinder. I will line up a selection of videos in the queue."

"Great." She sighed, drawing her shoulder blades in, fully sinking down against the floor. "Maybe there's something to this whole 'stress-relief' thing, after all."

Sara had always had a bit of an obsessive personality.

For as long as she could remember, she'd always had this desire to just learn more. Knowing about mechanics wasn't enough; she needed to know the nitty-gritty ins and outs, how to put together and disassemble any drone she could get her hands on, how to create mods from scratch with raw materials.

Even though she wasn't biotic, she'd done a lot of research on eezo and mass effect fields when mom had gotten sick. This event had spurred on a desire to know more about human physiology, and first aid, and pain relief. How to deal with grief, and do it well.

Alien cultures, you say? Sara was in the libraries, on the extranet, up to her elbows in Prothean artifacts and data streams, all for the sake of knowing more. She'd loved being a Recon Specialist.

Some of it was from a desire to achieve; her and Scott had come out of the womb seeking to wring every last drop of life from the universe, no matter what they did. Most of it was just her, though; she was hardwired to breathe in information and think, the way other people took in oxygen or consumed food. Knowledge was her life blood.

Which made signing up for the Initiative a breeze, all things considered. Unknown alien cultures? New worlds to explore? Sign me up, I won't look back. Adventure, here I come. Albeit, some of her panache and zeal for discovery had been tempered by the kett, and everything that had come in the shitstorm since Habitat 7. But still: climbing the dunes on Elaaden; breathing in the strange, earthy scent on Havarl; feeling the hot wind of Eos blow across her face —Heleus was ripe for the picking, and she wanted it all.

So she really wasn't surprised that when she found yoga to be helping with her stress levels, she went all in. Once-a-day sessions turned into separate morning and bedtime routines. Instead of rereading her favorite Milky Way novels, she read up on the history of yoga, on the different schools, on the way it took root amongst asari culture. She even, at one point, asked Cora and Peebee —and Lexi, since she was the one who recommended it, after all— if they had ever seriously practiced before.

Lexi: "Even though I know of its benefits, I've regrettably never devoted time to exploring them myself."

Peebee: "Naw, never got into all that New Age-y shit. Not really me, you know?" (Sara had tried to hold in her snort, with limited success)

Only Cora had any real experience. "Sometimes, when the other huntresses were feeling particularly tight, we'd practice as a group, or as partners."

Sara's brows scrunched. "As partners?"

"Sure. Partner yoga is a great way to really bond with someone. Each party has to carry their own weight, so to speak, to really get the most out of it." She paused, considering. "I didn't really do it all that often, but if you ever wanted to try it, I'd be willing."

Their friendship had improved vastly over the months; Sara recognized it for the platonic offer it was. After a few sessions of deep stretches —following particularly harry missions— another idea sparked in Sara's brain.

What would partner yoga be like with…well, with a partner?

A few weeks later found Sara with her legs up against the window in her cabin, stretched against the wall in a satisfying viparita karani posture. Her initial fervor had cooled into something more sustainable; even though she had already been in shape, she felt more lithe through her muscles, more loose, more body-conscious than before. She felt in control, for once.

The rhythms that approximated the "nightly" sequence on the Tempest were in full swing. Her cabin lights were dimmed. Half of her hair was pulled up, the other half having escaped to curl lightly against her neck. Quiet music filtered from the speakers, and she counted her breaths.

In. Out. In. Out. In—

The doors to her cabin slid open, and a shadow slanted across the floor.

"Hey, Sara—oh, sorry, didn't know you were busy."

She opened her eyes, rolling her neck back until she was looking at Liam, upside down. "Not busy, just relaxing. Come on in."

He sat on the bed, pulling up his omnitool. Since the soccer match on Podromos, they'd taken to spending more of their down time together —or all of it, as Peebee liked to tease— slowly working their way through Liam's massive movie list. Or kissing. There was also lots of that, too. Sara didn't really mind what they were doing, as long as they were together. She wasn't always sure of how much time she'd get with him, with things escalating like they were.

She slowly dropped her legs down to her chest and rolled to the side, savoring the way her back popped as she curled.

"Feeling another 'Blasto' movie? Always a cringe-worthy classic. Or how about—"

"Actually, I have an idea." She sat up, butterflies suddenly flitting around in her stomach. What if he thinks this is dumb? Oh man, potential for embarrassment and rejection! She worried at her bottom lip; Liam stopped flicking through the vids and watched her, noticing her hesitation. "How about trying partner yoga with me?"

She felt her cheeks flush, and she ducked her head slightly, in the way he had come to realize was a self-defense mechanism. It had been easier to spot her insecurities as things with the Kett heated up, and as he got to know her better. In the low-lighting, with her hair slightly frizzy from being against the floor, he thought she looked perfect. "Hell yeah, I'm game."

"What, really? You don't think it's dumb, or anything?"

He let out a soft chuckle. "Sara Ryder, rarely do you ever say or do anything that could be classified as 'dumb'. That's my part of the job, yeah?" He stretched his legs out in front of him, reclining slightly against the bed. "Besides, 'partner yoga'? Sounds like a great idea. Let's do it."

Her breath came out in a soft sound, and for not the first time Liam marveled at how relaxed she was around him, how she wasn't afraid of showing her insecurities and sharing her fears, when it was just them. When she wasn't the Pathfinder. Well, it was his job to support her; he felt damn lucky that things had turned out the way they had.

She patted the floor next to her, pulling up her own omnitool and keying up an asari vid.

"They're not going to do any kinky shit on this, right? Don't really want to see any naked bodies. Except one." He settled in next to her, arms brushing.

She flushed, punching Liam half-heartedly in the arm. "Not that kind of vid, Liam."

He laughed, a quick bark of sound. "Just checking."

The vid popped up on the wallscreen, courtesy of SAM, showing two asari sitting comfortably back to back. "We'll follow the video. Just how flexible are you, Kosta?" She couldn't resist.

"You should be able to answer that one for yourself." He flashed her a cheeky grin before maneuvering to sit back-to-back. "Let me know if I do something that hurts you." He emanated a comfortable warmth against her, and she smiled as she sank into the audio.

The video playing was one for beginners; her and Cora had never gone past the basic postures. She sat up straight, anchored to the floor; Liam's body was firm against her. Elbows locked, fingers rested on knees as they fell into alternating breaths. Then, like the asari on screen, they lifted their hands over their heads in a side stretch. She caught Liam's soft murmur of "Ladies first," before his warm hands encircled her wrists and tugged slightly upward, elongating her stretch. It hurt, but in the good way.

Their inhalations and exhalations mingled with the vid's soft audio; they were the only sounds in the room.

When they reached the back and forward bends, she felt Liam's ribs shake against her as he laughed; she was folded completely to the ground, his body heavy over hers. "I feel like I'm squishing you."

"You haven't yet," was her muffled reply. Then it was time to switch; she slid up and against him, taking a moment to really press her hips to his. She could definitely see the benefits of practicing with a partner, as he exhaled explosively beneath her. Her eyes closed as she relaxed against his back, her fingers extending forward to brush his. With a soft 'pop,' vertebrae in her lower back settled, and she sighed.

The vid played on; they didn't speak, save for requesting less or more pressure be used. For not the first time, Sara was struck by Liam's gentle care with her. Sure, she'd witnessed his obvious compassion for others: he worked tirelessly to get the outposts what they needed, and she knew that same care had surfaced in HUST-1. It even carried over into his combat style, the way he'd throw himself right into the fray to get the fire off of teammates. Off of her.

Being with Liam helped remind her that she was a woman, underneath the title of 'Pathfinder'. He treated her like she was valuable, like she was worth it, their crazy adventures and hijinks all aside. She'd never pictured herself with someone who was so attentive, so kind. Sara hoped that she made him feel the same way he made her feel. All fluttery and goofy and sappy.

She didn't know how she had gotten so lucky.

Hands slid up arms as they faced each other again and reached forward, entering another bend. Her face was starting to feel unreasonably warm; in their wake, his fingers left trails of fire on her skin. As Liam helped her fold forward —legs out wide, feet touching— she savored the feeling of his palms on her shoulder blades. She let out a soft groan as he pressed her deeper into the stretch.

"Too much?"

"Just right." Why was her voice so breathy all of a sudden?

Apparently Liam was noticing the shift in atmosphere, too; when she helped him fold down towards her, he slipped his hands up and over her thighs, his fingers stretching to press teasingly against her lower back. She lightly flinched. How much longer is this vid?

By the time they worked through double downward dog and another round of partner breathing, Sara felt like a soupy, languid mess. Completely relaxed in a deeper way, stretched out, yet also…ahem. Being near Liam always made her feel butterflies, but this?

The room darkened as the vid faded to black. Their elbows were still locked. "Thanks for trying that. What'd you think?"

"Happy to help you relax. We all need someone to lean on."

A beat—then, "You didn't. Were you thinking about that the whole time?"

"Nope. I was thinking about when we'd get to that crazy acrobatic shit people'd always post on the extranet. Next time, right?"

She laughed. "Sure, next time. If you think you can handle it, that is."

He moved around to face her, eyes molten in the light of the stars. His breath fanned against her skin. "Is that a challenge, Sara Ryder?"

She smiled against his skin. "You bet it is, Kosta."

He slid his hand up her arm, repeating the motion from before, cupping her cheek. "Looking forward to it, then." His fingers traced a bright line from her jaw to the back of her neck.

As his mouth met hers and her fingers twined in his hair, Sara decided that partner yoga was a very good idea.