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yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago

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Title: Vantage Point.

Commissioned by the very patient, very lovely @yandere-vale.

Word Count: 5.1k.

Pairing: Yandere!Glimmer/Reader (She-Ra).

TW: Fem!Reader, Aged Up Characters, Imprisonment, Implied Kidnapping, Isolation, Emotional Abuse, Slight Infantalization, Mentions of Physical Abuse, Past Injury.

At least the view was nice, in Bright Moon.

You should know. You’d had plenty of time to take it in, by now, not that a single glance wouldn’t have been enough to convince any battle-weary refugee that the destination was worth the tiring journey. The jutting canyons, the darkened forests, the permanent twilight painted across skies so stunning, the bay surrounding Glimmer’s kingdom couldn’t rest until it was beautiful enough to reflect them – it was pretty, you could admit that, and it was nice to finally have enough time to take it all in. It was a small silver lining, running thin enough to border on the verge of complete nonexistence, but it was a silver lining all the same. You were allowed to appreciate it. You’d give yourself that. You liked being able to appreciate it.

You just wished you didn’t have to do so from such a distant vantage point.

It might’ve been a tower. You thought it was, at least, from what you could tell from your perch at its peak. Tall, looming, just as rounded and just as seamless as every other building on Bright Moon’s shores. There was no ladder, no staircase, no way down beyond finding the nearest ledge and hoping for the best, and if there was anything to discover beyond the confines of your bedroom, there certainly wasn’t a way to access it. You’d already tried, searched for hidden doors and passageways, tried every possible escape route Glimmer might’ve overlooked, spent a memorable week attempting to break through the solid stone floor, but it was fruitless, pointless, an effort you could only look back on with resent for your own naivety. There was no way for you to get out, not without risking your own life, in the process, and there wasn’t a way for any would-be savior to get in. You were trapped, isolated, cut off from everything you’d ever called your home. Cut off from everyone you’d ever called your friend.

Except her, obviously.

But you’d never made the mistake of calling Glimmer your friend.

You could hear her, your routine silence broken by slow footsteps, but you didn’t look, you didn’t bother to. You’d already been sitting there for hours, perched inside of a carved-out windowsill, admiring everything that you couldn’t have, not anymore, not after Glimmer decided you didn’t deserve it as much as she deserved you. No, you didn’t acknowledge her, you didn’t let yourself acknowledge her, but that never made a difference. She was already approaching you, already behind you, an arm soon wrapped around your torso and a chest slotted against your back, pulling you into something you might’ve called a hug, if she thought to let go. You bit back your rising complaints, swallowing the urge to shove her away and give her another reason to think of you as immature, irresponsible, incapable, but if she appreciated your self-restraint, she clearly didn’t think it was worth her praise.

Glimmer only sighed, shaking her head at your absentee reaction, more than content to act like she couldn’t imagine why imprisonment might lead to some lingering resentment. “Still busy sulking, sweetheart?”

You didn’t answer, not at first, keeping your eyes on the scenery below. You didn’t like it when she got so close, not after everything she’d done. You didn’t like that you had to let her get so closer, or risk spending another month in somewhere far less pleasant than a homey, familiar, inescapable tower. “I’m not sulking,” You mumbled, fighting not to curl into yourself. “You keep me here, imprisoned and alone, and you know I don’t like it. I don’t have to pretend I’m happy to see you.”

“No, but it might be nice if you tried.” There was a laugh, a squeeze, but she pulled away quickly, sliding into the space next to you and forcing you to shrink further into the nearest wall, forcing to you avoid her, if only because she refused to give you the space to reach out on your own. “You can’t act like I haven’t given you plenty of chances to make yourself happy,” She went on, her tone still light-hearted, vaguely amused. She wasn’t taking this seriously. You doubted she would, until you said something to upset her. “It’s not my fault that you refuse to accept my gifts without a fight.”

You didn’t have to ask what she meant. The evidence was still scattered around your bedroom, found in torn lace and ripped silk, crushed flowers and chipped gems, neglected toys and trinkets she'd offered, half-heartedly, attempting to fill she'd left in your life. On good days, you could ignore it, pretend they were meant for someone else, anyone but you. On most days, felt sick at the thought of indulging Glimmer's one-sided show of kindness.

“Presents won’t make this bearable. I don’t need distractions.” You let yourself exhale, leaning back, your posture just slack enough to make the idea of continuing this conversation tolerable. Something shot through the flesh below your shoulder blade, a single strike of agony before the feeling faded into a steady throb. A reminder of a wound that wasn’t quite healed, but one you’d already disregarded, nonetheless. “I need to go outside. I need you to let me go. I need you to stop acting like you’re doing this for my safety.” Glimmer flinched, her jaw locking into place, but you ignored the small pang of guilt that followed. Good. If she expected you to find a way to live with this, she could find a way to live with the discomfort. “I was doing fine before I met you, and I’d still be doing fine, without your help. It’s not fair to assume I’d—”

“Really?” Glimmer cut you off, any trace of her levity gone. “Are you sure you can’t come up with a single reason I might be hesitant to let you take care of yourself?”

Immediately, you fell quiet, turning away yet again. This time, Glimmer didn’t seem to mind your silence.

“Believe it or not, I’m not trying to make you miserable,” She said, not for the first time. Like you were supposed to believe it. Like she could expect you to believe it. “I just want to keep you safe. If you have to be unhappy for me to do that, then so be it.”

And, just like that, she was gone.

For a moment, you almost missed her.

You didn’t break her next gift.

You wanted to. The temptation was always there, you doubted you’d ever grow fond enough of Glimmer for it to completely go away, but you ignored it, brushed it off, pushed it just far enough down to pretend it didn’t exist at all. It helped that she’d given you a book, this time. Usually, her gifts were materialistic, unsubstantial, things that were better at making you look cute and harmless than helping you pass the time. She hadn’t left, yet. That helped too. You still had bruises from the last time you didn’t give her rage time to cool, and you weren’t eager to reopen old wounds.

Books could be used. Books could be read. Books were heavy, and they meant you could do something, if only sit passively and take in a story that wasn’t yours. That was more credit than Glimmer had ever given you before. Part of you worried it was more credit than she’d ever give you again.

That might’ve been why you asked. You wanted logic. If there was a method to her madness, there would be a way to predict what comes next, to try to guess if there was a reason she’d done this at all. You wanted there to be a reason. “Aren’t you afraid I’m going to use this?”

Glimmer didn’t look up from the letter in her hands, multiple pages of important political correspondence, you were sure. She’d taken your bed, when she first arrived, and you’d hid yourself away at the vanity on the other side of the room. A part of you hated it, how she dominated what was supposed to be your space so easily. Another part of you was just glad to have a reason to feel like you actually had a space you felt was yours, if only when someone else invaded it.

Her response came in the form of a hum, light and curious, then a question. “Use it?”

“You know,” You started, before you were entirely sure what you wanted to say. “To escape, or something. I might still find a way to.”

Glimmer laughed, and suddenly, you knew why she was such an unopposed ruler. By the time she actually spoke, you’d already begun to regret saying anything at all. “Planning to beat the walls in with a paperback? I think I’d have to hand over my crown, too, if you managed that.”

Your face burnt, and your grip around the novel tightened. If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve reconsidered your decision to keep this one. “I could always attack you.”

“Do you want me to take it away?”

“Please don’t.” You spoke quickly, as softly as you could, but your panic was still audible, the rush of anxiety you wished you didn’t have to give weight, after so many months of letting your instincts lay dormant. “I just… I guess I just want to know why you didn’t do this earlier. You’ve always given me clothes and that kind of stuff, and this seems more—”

Glimmer didn’t let you finish. She rarely did, when you spoke for any longer than she cared to let you. “C’mere, angel. You shouldn’t be so far away.”

It wasn’t a demand, not really, not when she said it so casually. It wasn’t, but you treated it like one, pushing yourself to your feet and reluctantly approaching her, your eyes never leaving the ground. In your defense, you didn’t fall into her arms, choosing to sit on the edge of your bed and retain a fraction of your dignity, but your aversion didn’t matter. All it took was a strong arm wrapped around your waist, a light tug, and you were tucked into her side, regardless, your head resting on her chest and your legs folded underneath you. For once, you were glad she kept you so isolated. You wouldn’t have been able to live with the embarrassment, if anyone else was around to see you like this.

“Everything I do, I do because it’s what I think is best for you.” There was a pause, like this meant anything. Like she thought she was comforting you. Like this could be comforting, to anyone who didn’t share in her twisted fantasy. “Don’t worry about the details, that’s the kind of thing you’re supposed to let me take care of. It won’t do you any good to overwork yourself, like that.” Her hand fell to your waist, signaling for you to agree. You managed a quick nod, and Glimmer went on, pleased. “Just sit back and relax. No need to worry your pretty little head over anything I think you do or don’t deserve.”

Your throat felt dry. The sheets below you felt scratchy, uncomfortable, like you were sitting on sandpaper rather than satin. You wanted to get up. You wanted to, but you didn’t. “I don’t… I mean, you’re probably right, but—”

“I am right.” She was laughing, reaching over to cup your cheek and tilt your head back, her lips soon pressed against the top of your head, but the gesture was hollow, it felt hollow, and you could’ve hated yourself for ever trying to give it meaning. Glimmer was good at that, making you feel like you were paranoid, too preoccupied with yourself to ever see the bigger picture. She was good at making you feel like you were in the wrong. She was good at making you feel like you’d always been wrong, even if you knew she couldn’t be right. “You just need a little help, that’s all. You were too reckless, when you came to me, you just got yourself into too much trouble. I just want to make sure you don’t get yourself hurt, anymore.”

You believed her. You could believe her. If you wanted to, you could make yourself believe her.

You’d have to believe her, if you ever wanted to survive what came next.

It felt like fire.

In your veins, in your blood, under your skin and spreading, every time you moved or shifted or took a breath deeper than the shallow, airy inhales you’d gotten used to, by now. It didn’t have any right to hurt as much as it did, honestly. The wound was old, mostly healed, a shadow of a scar of a lasting injury that’d already overstayed its welcome, but it felt like something new, something fresh, something that you’d gotten the other day, rather than so many years ago. Something raw, something bloody.

Something that Glimmer was making worse with every passing moment, whether or not she meant to.

She was trying to help. You reminded yourself of that. She didn’t trust a medic with you, and you’d had to beg her not to use the temperamental healing magic that so often left much more able-bodied soldiers in much worse condition than simple, external wounds could ever achieve, but you almost wished you hadn’t bothered. She must’ve been using the wrong ointment, the wrong elixir. She must’ve been being too harsh, or too gentle, or messing with something that made flesh and tissue smolder where it shouldn’t have, the pain vivid enough to make you curl into yourself, sink into the mattress, try to escape something that you already knew couldn’t be as bad as you were making it out to be, in your own mind. Whatever she was doing, it hu-

“Does it hurt, love?” Glimmer asked, slowly.

“It doesn’t,” You answered, without hesitation. “It just… It stings more than I expected it to.”

You tried to sound confident, but your voice wavered as her fingertips skirted over scarred tissue, your fists curling around the pillow you were clinging to, despite the way you knew it must’ve looked. Her bed was so much softer than yours, everything in her chambers so much more plush, but that made sense. She was royalty, and you were her prisoner. Your bedroom wasn’t simple, not by any means, but Glimmer's was…

She was a queen. You shouldn’t forget that, however convenient she made it to try. She was a queen, and you weren’t.

“If you’d let me tend to it earlier, it wouldn’t be so bad.” She was scolding you, but playfully, tenderly enough to let you calm down, some of the tension in your rigid form dissolving as you crossed your arms under your head and tried to relax. There was a moment of reprieve, the sound of glass clinking against glass, and a wave of cold air rushed over your injury, dulling any lingering pain into an unpleasant awareness. You would’ve thanked her for it, if the thought did leave a bitter taste on your tongue. You might’ve, still, if she hadn’t chosen to keep going before you could say anything at all. “Count yourself lucky it’s not infected. It’s almost as bad as it was, when we first met.”

It wasn’t. It really wasn’t. Or it might’ve been, you couldn’t really remember. It’d been so long since it was first inflicted, since the last spark of a war that’d spanned longer than your lifetime died out and you were left with the scars to prove you’d survived it, even if the majority of your hometown hadn’t been able to recover in the years that followed. You could barely walk when you first arrived in Bright Moon, but that might’ve been the exhaustion, or the stress, or some other vague, abstract concept that’d been just apparent enough for Glimmer to catch and take pity on you, despite the horror’s she must’ve faced on her own.

You stopped yourself before your thoughts could spiral any further. She pitied you, but you wouldn’t pity her. You refused to. You’d seen where it led, what kind of obsession it could create, and you didn’t want that. You wouldn’t let yourself believe you did.

“But it’s going to get better, right?” You couldn’t keep that hopeful lilt out of your voice, an equal mix of manufactured positivity and genuine optimism, despite yourself. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? So you can take care of me?”

There was a brief silence, then a small chuckle. Your wound felt warm, again, smoldering around the edges, and for a moment, you almost found it reassuring. “Of course,” She agreed, but she was still laughing. You wished she would stop. “That, and because I like having you around.”

It was almost funny.

You thought you’d be relieved, when she was finally honest with you.

It hurt, again. It must’ve been the paste she was using, something thick and elastic that kept a cluster of soft, generously applied bandages plastered to your skin. It was far from comfortable, too tight in places, too loose in others, uneven in a way that meant you’d have to tear off what you could and wrap your chest more thoroughly in an hour, at most, but you forced yourself to smile, to sit up and stretch as if doing so didn’t leave something in your spine twisted and cramped. You could complain, if you wanted to, you doubted Glimmer would be that petty, but there wasn’t a point. It was easier to keep her happy, with or without any caveats. You could live with the mild pain, for now.

Glimmer rewarded you with a small grin, a gentle hand on your cheek when you turned to face her. “My brave little sweetheart,” She started, nearly cooing. You tried to tell yourself it was unintentional. “You should probably rest, I might not be able to help if you make things any worse. I’ll take you back to your—”

It was a flare of panic, sudden and unmistakable. A shot of anxiety, a sudden burst of pure dread – something so mindless and so overwhelming, you were throwing yourself at her before you had a chance to think better of it, burying your face in her chest and latching on to her shirt, letting her wrap her arms around you when she recovered from any short-lived shock. “Do I… do I have to go back?” You managed, reluctantly. You didn’t want to ask, you didn’t want to fall so far, but you couldn’t go back to that tower. You just couldn’t. “Please, you can restrain me again, I just don’t want to—”

You were cut off by a squeeze to your side, an idle chuckle. You already knew what she would say, but the way she paused still made you hesitate. It made you feel unsure, obedient, like anything she’d done had ever mattered to you.

Like you were starting to need her as much as she claimed to need you.

“All you had to do was ask.”

It took you three hours to pick the lock on Glimmer’s door.

Three weeks, technically, if you counted the time you spent observing, watching, waiting until she trusted you enough to leave you to rest in her palace, rather than sending you back to that freezing, forsaken tower. It was a frustrating precaution, molding yourself into something submissive, begging to spend just one more night in her bedroom rather than your own, but you needed to know Glimmer’s schedule, the rotation of her guards, what you had to work with and how many flimsy, flat trinkets you’d be able to get your hands on before Glimmer started to question your new fascination with hairpins and letter openers. You needed to know who else was in the palace, who else you could get to before you were caught.

You needed to know who to run to, when you finally got out of the softened, insufferable cage Glimmer kept you locked inside of.

Three hours. On and off, one minute at a time, every little creak and jolt and tell-tale snap serving as another reason to hold your breath, to stop and listen, to shut your eyes and hope you’d never have to do this again. You could’ve cried when the lock finally gave away, when the polished marble of her door finally slackened and relaxed, falling open without a struggle. There weren’t any guards outside, you timed it so there wouldn’t be, but you doubted you would’ve cared if there were. You could already hear footsteps against solid tile, and hope flared in your chest before you could think to press it down, bright and burning and overflowing as you took in your soon-to-be savior – a girl, a few years older. A woman. Her name came to you in a moment.

Catra, a warrior, a war hero.

Someone who could help you.

You didn’t throw yourself at her, not like you threw yourself at Glimmer. You didn’t have to, you didn’t want to sacrifice your pride like that, not anymore, but that didn’t stop you from grinning like an idiot, from stumbling over your own feet as you sprinted in Catra’s direction, barely listening to her stifled swearing before it came to a jarring stop. You might’ve said something. You might’ve just opened your mouth and closed it again. You might’ve stuttered and mumbled and blabbered incoherently until her expression shifted, gave away, more out of relief than kindness. More out of understanding than any real empathy.

She cut you off, and something in your heart clenched painfully.

“You’re Glimmer’s, right?”

You shook your head. You would’ve denied it, but you couldn’t remember how to speak. Part of you wondered if you’d ever really known how to, at all.

“Dressed like it,” Catra went on, rolling her eyes, her tone only a touch above sardonic. You didn’t have to throw yourself at her – she was already taking you by the wrist, dragging you in the same direction she’d been heading, regardless, never giving you the choice not to follow. “C’mon, I don’t want to deal with Sparkle’s tantrums, today. You’re coming to the war room.”

You didn’t get a chance to refuse. You doubted she would’ve listened if you did, but you could’ve tried, you should’ve said something. It would’ve felt right, if nothing else, to put your foot down, to make a run for it, to tell someone what Glimmer had done to you, even if it was starting to seem like Catra might not make much of a shoulder to cry on. Even in the moment, you knew you’d regret it, but…

But, you couldn’t bring yourself to do much of anything.

You didn’t know what else you’d expected, honestly.

The palace was bigger than it looked, from your usual vantage point. The adrenaline had started to die down by the time you reached the ‘war room’, leaving you drained, tired, dragging your feet as Catra tugged you through a door twice your height, the guards that stood on either side of the entryway barely batting an eye at your bare feet and disheveled appearance. The ceilings were too high, the gold accents just a little too polished, everything too bright despite the lack of an apparent light source. It hurt, in a way. You wondered if it would hurt this much if you actually got outside.

Catra didn’t introduce you. She didn’t have to, not when you were abandoned as quickly as you were brought in, left to stand at the head of their table, tense and alone, as Catra drew attention to herself, instead, clearing her throat as she approached the other Princesses. You recognized most of them, anyone would – Mermista, barely glancing over you before she lost interest, Perfuma, kind enough to try to smile in your direction, and Adora, the Adora, She-Ra, still dressed in full armor, her arms crossed over the rounded table, her lips pressed into a thin frown and her expression…

And her expression identical to the one Glimmer wore, back when youstill had the option to look at other people.

It hurt, obviously, but you didn’t have much time to linger on the festering sting. You were already being lifted off your feet, a pair of strong hands or… claws, rather, clamping around your biceps and pinning your arms to your sides, squeezing so tight, you could hear something in your torso crack. You didn’t have to guess at a name. Even if you couldn’t see Scorpia’s face, her voice was enough, light and jovial, as if you hadn’t flinched away as she touched you. As if you weren’t close to tears. “Catra brought a friend!” You could’ve cried. You might’ve, if your embarrassment hadn’t been so much less ignorable than your mounting trepidation. “Finally, I was starting to think our wildcat would never break out of her shell. This is great, right, Adora?”

“It’s perfect,” Adora replied, obviously upset, but Catra only shrugged her off, draping herself over Adora’s shoulders she scoffed, keeping her glare centered on you. “You’re late. Is this supposed to be an excuse?”

“This,” She said, gesturing in your direction, “is supposed to be one of Glimmer’s. I wouldn’t have mess with it if I had a choice, but she looked lost, and you know how Glimmer would get if she wandered off.”

There was a huff, a chuckle, a mumbled ‘you know I’m right’, but it was hard to listen, it was hard to care. Your vision was blurring, your throat tightening up, but you fought back the tears as well as you could, knowing it’d only make your frustration that much worse. You didn’t want to make yourself look helpless, not here, not surrounded by people who were obviously so much stronger than you, but you couldn’t hold your hands steady, you couldn’t stop the way your breath hitched while it was still in your lungs. You wanted to hide. You wanted to run. You wanted to go back to your tower, and you hated yourself for it. “Please, I… I’m a captive, I shouldn’t—”

“Ah, why didn’t you say so sooner? Glimmer must be worried sick.” It was Perfuma, this time, still watching from a distance. You couldn’t tell if she’d heard you, but you choose to believe she hadn’t. It’d be easier, if you assumed no one was listening to you at all. “Scorpia, you’re not holding her too tightly, are you? It’d be a shame if there were bruises, after we finish.”

“Who, me? You know I’d never hurt a fly,” Scorpia laughed, tightening her grip. You made a breathy, pitiful sound, something between a gasp and a whimper, but neither seemed to notice. Neither seemed to care. You weren’t sure which you would’ve preferred, anymore. “Even if this one’s a little more… fleshy, than what I’m used to.”

You opened your mouth, ready to tell her she would leave bruises, that she wasn’t being gentle, but you didn’t have time, not before Adora spoke up, her posture a fraction more relaxed than it had been, a minute ago. “Don’t worry about leaving marks,” Adora cut in, nonchalantly. She had an arm strung around Catra’s waist, now, but she was still looking at you. If you’d been a touch more desperate, you might’ve thanked her. If you’d felt any smaller, you might’ve asked her to stop. “Glimmer’s been talking about this for months. I haven’t seen anyone that excited since…” She trailed off, throwing a glance in Catra’s direction, earning a wicked grin in response. For a moment, you wondered why you’d ever thought either one of them would try to help you. “Since someone realized she didn’t have to wait for us to fight to get her claws out.”

Perfuma rolled her eyes. Scorpia groaned. You wanted to ask what she meant. You wanted to scream for her to go on, to tell you what that was supposed to mean, to just go on until you could pick one of the awful, dark, twisted thoughts swirling around in your head and let that shove you off the edge before anything worse could. You had to know what was going to happen to you. You didn’t want to know, you didn’t want to anything, but you had to find out. It was a matter of survival. It was a matter of life and death. It was something you needed, and for a second, you thought you might be able to vocalize that. You thought you might be able to say it. You thought you might be able to actually say it.

Then, a familiar voice called your name, and again, you lost your chance to do much of anything at all.

Scorpia didn’t have to be told to put you down. By the time you could think to ask, you were already back on your feet, your knees threatening to buckle as you struggled to keep yourself upright. You could’ve collapsed. A part of you wanted to, most of you wanted to, but it only would’ve made things worse, it only would’ve made you seem more childish, even you doubted anyone was paying attention to you, anymore. No, Scorpia had gone back to the other Princesses, Catra and Adora still preoccupied with each other, and you were left alone, shaking, at the mercy of the woman currently positioning herself in front of you, cupping your cheek, tilting back your head as you fought not to push her away. You didn’t want her to touch you.

You weren’t really sure what you did want, anymore.

“Poor little thing,” She said, her voice already soft, sweet. She might be angry, later on, she probably would be, but you tried not to think about that. You could only be thankful she wasn’t, right now. “I think you’ve had enough fun, for today. All of this is clearly too much for you to handle.” She stopped, leaning down, her lips barely brushing against your forehead. It wasn’t a kiss, but it was close to one. It didn’t hurt, and that was all you could bring yourself to care about. “Are you ready to go home?”

She might’ve been talking about her room. She might’ve been talking about the tower. She might’ve been talking about something else entirely – a dungeon, a prison cell, a cramped, darkened room you wouldn’t be able to slip out of quite as easily. You didn’t know. You should’ve, but you didn’t.

“I…” You were barely able to whisper. It was pathetic, honestly, but you forced yourself to go on. It would be worse, if you drew it out. It would be unbearable, if you had to stay here.

You just wanted to be alone, even if you had to be alone with Glimmer.

“I’m ready.”

#yandere #yandere love #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere prompts #yandere commissions #commissions #writing commissions #yandere fantasy #yandere fanfiction #yanderecore #yancore

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misscorn · 4 years ago

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Day 6: Takaritsu Day/Confession

I can't believe @takaritsuweek is almost over 😭 please enjoy this one shot ❤

***

Ritsu was starting to become convinced that the universe was trying to tell him that he and Masamune shouldn't be together. Every time Ritsu attempted to confess something went wrong and prevented him from doing so.

First it was the dinner disaster (the first of many dinner disasters, in fact). Ritsu had attempted to prepare a nice dinner for he and Masamune to share, but when Masamune came over what he found was Ritsu in a complete mess of a kitchen. The two of them spent their time cleaning everything up instead of eating as Ritsu apologized profusely for the trouble. It had taken so much courage for Ritsu to even ask Masamune over and then Ritsu had gone and ruined it all. It took everything in Ritsu not to cry, but Masamune managed to distract him with the suggestion of ordering in and watching a few movies. Somehow it ended up being at least a little bit fun, but Ritsu still felt bad for messing everything up.

Then there was the flower failure. Ritsu had thought that maybe a different romantic gesture would be good. When he had left his home to go get a bouquet the sky had been an ominous gray, but he hadn't brought an umbrella. He had only just managed to avoid the rain as he rushed into the shop. After purchasing his flowers he had hung around the shop to wait for the rain to pass. Luckily it was a short, though intense burst and Ritsu didn't have to wait for too terribly long. He left hurriedly after the rain stopped, but he wasn't able to stay dry for long as a car sped past him and totally soaked him with dirty street water. And had soaked the bouquet as well. Ritsu locked himself in his apartment for the rest of the day to sulk and Masamune had never learned of Ritsu's plan to surprise him.

The list went on and on: the chocolate calamity, the botched beach day, the festival fiasco, and not to mention the repeating ringtone. The repeating ringtone, as the name suggested, was a repeat offender. Masamune and Ritsu seemed to just not know how to turn their stupid phones off and every time Ritsu is about to open his mouth and say those three little words, one of their phones ring to interrupt him.

Ritsu was at his wits end. He couldn't even think about confessing at this point without getting extremely frustrated or just wanting to cry. At this rate he would never be able to confess. Maybe it really is the world trying to tell me it's not a good idea, Ritsu lamented. How many times could his confession go wrong before Ritsu finally took it as a sign?

Ritsu's pessimism was growing with every failed confession and eventually it started to become noticeable to Masamune. It was difficult for Ritsu to look Masamune in the eye and spend time with him outside of work when it was just a reminder that he was never going to be able to properly communicate his feelings because for some reason fate had a vendetta against him.

Masamune didn't understand why Ritsu was suddenly starting to avoid him after the two of them seemed to be making progress. Why was Ritsu suddenly only speaking to him at work? Why wouldn't Ritsu maintain eye contact with him for long? Why couldn't Masamune make Ritsu blush as easily as he used to? He was becoming seriously concerned and if he had to corner Ritsu to get answers then he would.

That's why Masamune was currently standing in front of Ritsu's apartment, knocking on his door insistently. When his knocks didn't get a response he then started to call Ritsu over and over again. Masamune knew how to be annoying and damn it he would annoy the hell out of Ritsu until he couldn't possibly ignore him anymore.

It took a while, but eventually Ritsu's door slowly creaked open. Ritsu narrowed his eyes at Masamune as he rejected what must have been Masamune's twentieth call. "What do you want Takano-san?" He asked. Well, Masamune had definitely succeeded in annoying Ritsu.

"I'm coming in." Masamune said instead of answering, managing to push past Ritsu and into the apartment.

"Takano-san!" Ritsu exclaimed in protest, but Masamune ignored him as he took off his shoes. "You can't just come in here whenever you want!"

"It's cleaner than usual. Is that why you've been avoiding me? You've been spending your time cleaning instead?"

"What? A-avoiding you? I haven't been avoiding you." Ritsu said as he averted his eyes, not able to look at Masamune as he lied.

"Are you angry with me?" Masamune asked. "Did I do something?" He stepped closer to Ritsu, invading his space as he so often did.

"No-I'm not-" Ritsu backed up, pressing himself against the door as he shook his head. "You didn't do anything, but I'm a little busy, so if you could please show yourself out." He huffed, managing to get past Masamune and walk deeper into his apartment. He should've known that Masamune would follow.

"How am I supposed to apologize if you won't talk to me?" Masamune pressed.

"I already told you, you didn't do anything." Ritsu repeated. "Other than letting yourself into my apartment!" He added. "So, please, just go-"

"Ritsu, whatever I did, I'm sorr-"

"It's not you!" Ritsu insisted, his frustrations beginning to build up inside him rapidly from every push from Masamune.

"Then why won't you even look at me?" Masamune frowned, stepping closer to take Ritsu's hand, but the brunette quickly snatched it away.

"Because...because looking at you makes me think of how much I'm screwing this all up!" Ritsu covered his face with a hand, humiliated.

"What? Ritsu, what are you talking about?" Masamune asked, reaching out to put his hands on Ritsu's shoulders.

Ritsu refused to look Masamune in the face, even with Masamune attempting to coax him to do so. "Every time I try to plan something nice, it all goes wrong! How you're not sick of all this nonsense yet I'll never understand."

"Ritsu, I still don't know what you're talking about." Masamune frowned. Just what the hell was Ritsu going on about?

"I just want things to be perfect and they never go the way I plan: I either almost explode my kitchen or forget to bring sunscreen to the beach or get sick after too many festival foods or have a stupid author emergency that interrupts everything! You don't even know how many plans I've had that never even got off the ground! Everything just gets messed up every single time!" Ritsu was getting more and more worked up as his eyes started to water.

"Ritsu..." Masamune stared, feeling a little useless in this situation.

"I'm sorry." Ritsu apologized. "I'm a pretty crummy boyfriend, huh?" He laughed humorlessly.

Boyfriend? Boyfriend? Had Ritsu just willingly referred to himself as Masamune's boyfriend?!

"Are you an idiot?" Masamune squeezed his shoulders.

"H-Huh?"

"So what that things go wrong sometimes? Do you think that's what I remember?" Masamune asked. "I remember having fun at the beach because you had fun. Yeah, we got a little sunburnt, but having a red back was worth spending time together. I loved watching you get all excited at the festival, even if your excitement went a little overboard, and I always want to be there to feel that kind of excitement with you. And yes, you've probably destroyed your kitchen more times than either of us can count, but I like having an excuse to just sit on the couch and cuddle while waiting for takeout. Ritsu, I don't care what we do or what happens, what I care about is that we're doing it together." Masamune hoped he was at least helping a little bit, but it seemed his words only made Ritsu's tears spill over.

"T-Takano-san..." Ritsu managed in a wobbly voice.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Masamune and Ritsu both stared at each other for a good while as Ritsu's words sunk in.

"Wait!" Ritsu shouted, throwing his hands up and waving them frantically. "No, no! I wasn't supposed to say that! This wasn't how it was supposed to go! It was supposed to be special! Please ignore-!"

Masamune crushed Ritsu to his body, kissing him so hard that his lips would probably bruise, but he didn't care.

Ritsu tensed at first, his face flushing red at the sudden kiss. Slowly, he relaxed in Masamune's hold, wrapping his arms around his neck as he shyly started to return the affection.

"Your room, now." Masamune started to pull a stunned Ritsu in the direction of his bedroom.

"H-h-huh?"

"You didn't think you could say something like that without consequences, did you?"

"But..." Ritsu blinked a few times, slowly getting his thoughts back in order. "I told you it would be perfect." He frowned.

Masamune stared for a moment before sighing, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You really are an idiot, aren't you?" He asked, making Ritsu frown. "It was always going to be perfect. Because it's coming from you."

Ritsu tried to stop himself from tearing up again. How can he be such an asshole but also so heartfelt? It was Ritsu's turn to kiss Masamune entirely too hard and the brunette didn't resist when Masamune led him to the bedroom.

How could he possibly think he isn't perfect? Masamune wondered as he kissed Ritsu passionately on his bed, the brunette laying on his back and clinging on to Masamune tightly.

Masamune was just about to run his hands up Ritsu's shirt when a familiar ringtone buzzed from Ritsu's pants pocket.

"Pft." Masamune was attempting (and failing) to hold back a laugh.

"Its not funny." Ritsu scowled as he fished his phone out and promptly turned it off, not even bothering to check who was calling.

Masamune smiled at the sight of Ritsu's haughty expression as he shoved his phone into his nightstand's drawer.

"Yours too." Ritsu said, holding his hand out. Masamune didn't argue, forking his phone over and letting Ritsu put it away before pouncing on him again.

"I love you." Masamune said between pressing kisses to Ritsu's neck.

Ritsu flushed, the red reaching the tips of his ears as he tightly screwed his fingers into the back of Masamune's shirt. He hoped Masamune couldn't feel his frantic pulse against his lips (Masamune definitely could as he gave that spot extra attention).

"I love you too."

#onodera ritsu #sekaiichi hatsukoi #takano masamune #takaritsuweek #fanfiction

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writingwithacupoftea · 5 years ago

Text

Dusty Black Coat

Summary: Tommy Shelby is famous for his dusty black coat - it's part of his signature look. But, really, it's not just his anymore...it's his sister's as well.

Word Count: 2765

Trigger Warnings: References to sexual assault after the third set of asterisks (***).

A/N: Hey hey hey, how are we all doing? I’m so happy to finally share this fic with you, it’s one that I’ve worked really hard on and it was one of the first ideas I had for a Peaky Blinders fic. As usual, let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy it!!

Tommy and Y/N Shelby had a relationship that no one could quite make sense of. Some people argued that the siblings were too similar for their own good, and that was the reason behind their seemingly constant arguing.

But in between all of that, there were moments of tenderness. These often occurred in complete silence, as they simply enjoyed the other's company. Amidst the hustle and bustle of a Friday night in the Garrison, Y/N could often be found with her head rested on her older brother's shoulder, sipping a gin as they watched Arthur and John's drunken antics with soft smiles on their faces. Or, if you happened to glimpse through the window of the Shelby residence on Watery Lane, you wouldn't be surprised to see the pair curled up in front of the fire, reading late at night.

Yes, it was a complicated relationship to say the least.

Then Tommy went to France, and the residents of Small Heath realised just how much Y/N loved her big brother. Of course, she missed all of her brothers while they were away, yet it was the one that the 18-year-old spend the most time yelling at that she clearly missed the most. It wasn't tears or words that communicated it, however. It was the fact that Y/N Shelby was nearly always walking the streets wearing Tommy's long, black coat.

The seven-year gap in age between the siblings meant that it was very oversized on her body to begin with. But as the years passed and the war continued raging on, the coat grew to suit Y/N quite nicely as she moved into her twenties.

When Tommy returned home, no one knew that him and his brothers were coming back, so the family didn't have chance to prepare. In fact, the first time that he saw Y/N, after four years away fighting, she was fast asleep. Upon closer inspection, Tommy had noticed that she was clutching his coat close to her chest and frowned at Polly, who had followed him, in confusion.

"She's barely let go of it since you left," and with those words Tommy found himself mimicking the gentle smile that graced Polly's face.

Since that day, a newfound understanding was created between Tommy and Y/N. Yes, they still argued (a lot, as any member of the Shelby clan would testify), but there was also now an unbreakable bond between the siblings. No one, not even the two themselves, knew what was so different about it, as nothing really changed in their relationship. But there was something there.

Oh, and it was also as clear as day that Tommy's sweeping black coat was definitely now Y/N’s as well...

***

Y/N loved the glamour of race days, no matter what business was occurring alongside them. Getting dressed up, having a few drinks, catching up with friends that she hadn't seen in a while; yes, she adored going to the races.

Everyone usually stumbles straight into the Garrison upon the return to Small Heath, and continues the party there. Tonight, however, not everyone chose to go to the cosy pub.

Y/N knew that her work could wait until the morning, but the meeting today was crucial for the expansion process of the Shelby Company Limited, and she wanted to get it done now.

No one had been into her office for hours, and when she had left earlier that day Y/N had neglected to close the window properly, so the cold October air had seeped into every nook and cranny of the room. She tried to concentrate on the papers in front of her, but her thin (but beautiful) dress did nothing to keep the cold at bay and she couldn't write properly with her fur shawl on. Sighing, Y/N put her pen down and made her way to Tommy's office to see if it was any warmer in there. She hated working in an office that wasn't her own, it was too distracting, but she had to decide which was the lesser evil: distraction through cold, or distraction through location. As she looked around Tommy's grand office, however, she found the perfect solution to her issue: Tommy's coat was hanging on a stand next to the door. With a triumphant smile on her face, Y/N marched back to her office with the heavy material sitting nicely on her body.

An hour later, she was still going with her paperwork, still wearing Tommy's coat, and completely oblivious to the time and anything else going on around her. So, naturally, Y/N didn't notice her brother appearing in the doorway to her office, having noticed the light glowing within the room.

"It's not like you to miss a night at the Garrison."

Y/N jumped what felt like a mile in the air, dropping her pen in the process, and placed her hand on her heart. "Jesus Christ, Tommy! I bloody hate it when you sneak up on me like that!"

A small chuckle fell from Tommy's lips as he sat down on the chair on the other side of her desk. "We had a good day today, Y/N," Tommy stated before lighting a cigarette, "We're moving up in the world." He paused, examining his younger sister thoughtfully. "And that, Y/N/N, means that you can afford to buy your own coat." Tommy's serious tone was, in Y/N's opinion, completely undermined but the glimmer of a smile that graced his face for a matter of seconds.

Y/N huffed dramatically, "It's called being resourceful, Thomas. My office was like an ice box, and your coat was just hanging there. Really, if you're that possessive over it you shouldn't leave it lying around." She raised her eyebrows and smirked at her big brother as she put her papers back into the drawer and locked it. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I actually came here to get that so, come on, give it here"

"You can't be serious"

"I'm always serious, sweetheart."

Reluctantly, Y/N stood up, removed the warm coat and handed it over. Tommy put it on himself, before leaning over and turning out the light on her desk. "Fine, leave me to freeze to death, then you'll regret it."

"Wear something sensible next time then."

Y/N simply responded by sticking her middle finger up as she walked past him, and onto the streets of Birmingham.

(Barely two minutes into their journey, however, Tommy gave in. Hand in his pocket, he opened his arm up and Y/N cuddled into his side, his arm and half of his coat wrapped tightly around her. Suffice to say the pair felt the warmest that they had been since the war began.)

***

The damp early morning mist hung low over the grounds of Arrow House, and the sun was slowly beginning to rise in the distance. Y/N had barely slept, tossing and turning over and over again in her bed, her mind constantly replaying her argument with Tommy the night before. A rival gang had made threats towards the Shelby clan over a week ago, and Tommy had elected not to mention it to anyone. She didn't know why she was surprised, or shocked. But still, yet another row had ensued with her older brother.

As the clock on her bedside table ticked over to hit 5am, Y/N felt a desperate need to walk and think and breathe. And so, still wearing her nightgown, she made her way over to the stables, only stopping briefly to collect Tommy's heavy coat to keep her warm, not really thinking about her actions.

Y/N didn't know how long she had been in the stables. She had run a hand over all of the horses, speaking to them in hushed tones as she did so. Memories of her childhood came flooding back to her, and she was hit with a wave of sadness as she realised that the simplicity of their old life was long gone. Instead, she only had these lone moments to cherish, away from the chaos that Tommy's ambition had brought with it. Anger towards her brother hit Y/N once again, and yet she found herself hugging his coat closer to her, seeking comfort in it that everything would be okay in the end.

Thomas Shelby, she thought, humourlessly, the king of providing people with conflicting emotions; sounds about right.

She was removed from her thoughts, however, as Y/N heard her name being called out from afar. Speaking of the devil, she mused; but she decided not to alert him to her whereabouts. As Tommy's voice got nearer, she realised that she had heard him use that tone of voice once before, panic-stricken and desperate: when Charlie was taken. Guilt coursed through Y/N's body, and yet part of her felt a small amount of satisfaction. He needed to be reminded of the importance of family, something that had escaped him in the months following Grace's death, and to experience some raw emotion for once.

Moments later, Tommy crashed through the stable doors, wild eyes searching the place frantically. When they landed on his sister's figure perched on a bale of hay, he let out a breath that he didn't even know that he had been holding. Upon finding Y/N's bed empty when he woke up, and seeing the front door slightly ajar, complete, unadulterated fear had consumed his entire being. The only thought that ran through his brain was they've taken her...they've taken her...they've taken her...

And so seeing her, safe, unharmed and swathed in his coat (as she so frequently was), broke down any remaining barriers that were still left standing.

Tommy quickly gathered her into his arms, hugging her closer than ever before. Y/N was stunned – she and Tommy never hugged properly; it just wasn't their way. But, despite her anger, she melted into it, not wanting to let this moment slip away.

As Tommy pulled away, holding Y/N at arm's length to examine her for any sign of harm and finding nothing, he suddenly found himself able to speak again, though his voice hoarse from shouting: "Even when you're mad at me, you can't leave without my fucking coat, can you?" Y/N, unable to hide a small smile, slapped his arm and started to make her way up to the house, Tommy following closely behind, not wanting her to wander off alone again.

***

It was no secret that Y/N Shelby was a fiercely independent young woman (this often clashed rather badly with Tommy's desire to control, and the combination sparked many an argument between the pair). She hated people mollycoddling her, and so when she was still having nightmares a month after being sexually assaulted in a London club, Y/N didn't mention it to anyone. All she did was try to continue her work and life as normally as she could, constantly pushing her exhaustion to one side.

Of course, what she didn't bank on was the fact that Thomas fucking Shelby could read her like a fucking book. And a children's one at that.

He'd been there the night it happened: whilst Tommy had met with the club's owner, Y/N was dancing with a friend. She'd slipped off to get another drink from the bar (on the house, obviously) when one man thought he'd try his luck. Reeking of alcohol and speech slurred, he'd been incredibly...persistent...and because they were at the end of the bar on a crowded Saturday night, no one had noticed as the drunk pulled her into a back room, tearing at her dress as she tried to fight him off.

Well, let's just say that he wasn't very lucky that night – Tommy had noticed his sister's absence and somehow managed to find her before anything went any further. To this day, Y/N still didn't know how her big brother had done it, all she knew was that she'd never been so relieved to see him. She didn't really remember the journey to Ada's house, where Tommy had taken her to be looked after while he went and hunted down the man who had dared to do this to his little sister: he had only managed to get in a few punches before turning his attention to Y/N, and it wasn't enough. The only thing that Y/N could clearly recollect was cuddling into her brother's chest as she sobbed, knowing that she was now safe. He'd buttoned his coat around her trembling figure, and to Y/N it was like he was still hugging her as he drove, the one thing keeping her grounded.

She felt the man's hands on her body every time she began to drift off to sleep. But she wouldn't tell anyone. Carrying on like everything was normal was just her way of coping with things, and she didn't want anyone to take that away from her.

It was eight o'clock at night when Y/N returned to the offices of Shelby Company Limited. She had been at the gin factory all day, checking on the progress being made there, and she was now more than ready for Tommy to take them back to Arrow House so that she could put her feet up. But, to her dismay, Tommy was still working away at his desk.

"Please don't tell me you're gonna be long, Tom?"

The man in question looked up at his sister, taking in her slumped posture and the darkness underneath her eyes. Instead of replying, he simply poured two whiskeys, grabbed his papers and sat down on the sofa in his office, gesturing for Y/N to do the same. Sighing, she removed her coat and hat and collapsed onto the space beside him, taking a large swig of the whiskey once she was comfortable.

"I'll be as quick as I can."

And with that, Tommy continued to read. Lulled by the warmth, whiskey and peace, Y/N's eyelids began to droop and (despite numerous attempts to stifle it) finally let out a long yawn. Not taking his eyes off the document in front of him, Tommy moved the remaining papers from his knee and placed them on the arm of the sofa.

"Go on," he said, in what was (for Tommy, at least) a lighter tone of voice.

Letting out a dry chuckle, Y/N looked over at her elder brother and replied: "I'm not 4 years-old anymore, Tommy, I will not -"

But before she could finish her sentence, she let out another yawn, causing Tommy to finally look away from his work to raise his eyebrows at her with a smirk.

"Fine," Y/N grumbled, "But if we're here much longer I'll just annoy you until we leave."

She slowly started to lay down onto the sofa, resting her head on Tommy's lap, and he subconsciously found himself stroking her hair with his free hand. When Y/N was much younger, this set-up wasn't unusual in the slightest, and the young woman now found herself feeling far more relaxed than she had been in months. So much so that she kept finding herself nodding off, but would shake herself awake every time, not wanting the nightmares to begin playing again.

He didn't show it, but Tommy was disheartened that his sister still wasn't going to sleep. He had hoped that the familiar position alone might be enough to send her off, as Tommy knew that he had quite a bit of reading left to do and wanted Y/N to get some rest. Tommy was more than aware that his sister hadn't been the same since that night in London, but didn't want to mention anything to her for fear that she'd bite his head off.

The great Thomas Shelby was scared of his younger sister, who'd have believed it?

After a few moments of silent thought, he realised that the solution was simple. He reached around to grab his coat, which he had thrown over the back of the sofa, and placed it over Y/N's body like a blanket. When she looked up at him, silently posing a question, Tommy spoke to her softly.

"Get some rest, sweetheart. I won't leave you."

Tears welled up in the younger Shelby's eyes as she nodded slightly, grateful (for once) that Tommy knows her better than she knows herself. Y/N curled her knees up slightly and snuggled in to the warm, dark material. Feeling her brother's hand securely on her shoulder as he rubbed his thumb backwards and forwards over it, and inhaling the scent of whiskey, cigarettes and just Tommy, Y/N knew that nothing could get to her...and so she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders sister #tommy shelby x sister reader #tommy shelby x sister!reader #shelby sister #shelby!sister #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fic

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wolvesandpetals · 4 years ago

Text

Postscript. Part 2 of 3.

Loki x Sylvie "Our divorce never went through" Modern AU. Angst, Rated T.

Masterlist of my fics here.

---

He meets her again next week, same place, same time. This time, he doesn't buy coffee, just donuts.

[[MORE]]

She sits down with a fond smile. "You've grown your hair out", she comments, remembering the short brown mop that is now long and black.

His smile is tight, and he doesn't speak. He digs into his briefcase and wordlessly pulls out the papers and a pen.

It hurts how he wouldn't even talk to her, but she knows it's what she deserves.

She picks up the pen, ready to sign and get it over with. The familiar proximity to him, combined with the unfamiliar coldness, makes her feel things she can't quite describe. She feels like she might break in his presence, and she needs to get out fast.

"Don't you want to at least read that first?" He asks, amused.

She shakes her head, and continues signing.

"How do you know I'm not making you sign your possessions away to me?"

"Enough!" She finally snaps. She closes her eyes, willing the tears back. "I was twenty-one, I was scared, and I was foolish. I made a huge mistake. Do you have to keep reminding me of that constantly?"

A solitary tear slips off her left eye, and Loki melts. He is defenseless against her tears, his carefully acquired armour insteantly falling away. He has never been able to see her cry and sit idly by. "I'm sorry." He says at once. He lets out a small, nervous laugh. "I guess I'm still a little bitter. I don't know why. It was so long ago."

She takes in deep breaths, trying to calm herself.

"Do you want something to drink?" He asks hurriedly.

She shakes her head. "That's not a good idea."

He pauses. It's a decision he has to make within the next ten seconds, and he does. He picks up the papers, and puts them back inside his briefcase. Sylvie stares at him, perplexed, as he orders two coffees for them.

He smiles softly. For the first time, she notices the wrinkles that are starting to form around his eyes. Time, it has been kind at least to his physical appearance. "How have you been?"

"I'm okay." She says quietly. "I've been... busy, I guess."

"Travelled the world?" He asks. That was one thing she wanted to do, one reason she wanted out. He told her he'd go with her. "You go, I go", he said. But she didn't believe him.

"Yes." She says sadly. "The world gets old quickly though."

"Really?" He asks, a little surprised.

She nods. "Everywhere I went, I just-" she hesitates. She really doesn't want to confess, it hurts her pride. But this might be the last time she's seeing him, and if she doesn't say it now, she will never get another chance. "I travelled from city to city, country to country, and the only place I wanted to be was back at our old apartment in The South Bank."

He's stunned by her unexpected confession. "I moved." He informs her. "I couldn't stand to be there after you left."

She nods again, forcing a smile on her face. "Did you ever go back?"

"I couldn't." He tells her honestly. "I dropped out of college, as you know, moved in with my brother, and started a business. I've been working on it since."

"What kind of business?" She asks curiosly.

He ignores his lawyer's voice in his head warning him not to disclose anything about his financial situation. "A bar."

She laughs. "You always did love your alcohol."

He chuckles, a hundred memories flashing back.

---

The very first night he saw her was at a bar. She was with her friends, and he was with his, and he asked for her number. He kept texting her right from the moment, until his friends teased him mercilessly and he had to pause for a while. They talked till 4 am that night, till his cell phone died.

Their first kiss was also at a bar. They were out with their friends, drunk out of their minds, and though they had both agreed to take it slow, she cornered him near the basins and pleaded. "I can't." And he understood. He felt it too, the need to crash his lips against hers.

"You're mine." He had told her one everning, while she rested her feet on his lap and leaned back against her chair. She had nodded, flushed. Right there in the open rooftop bar, she knew, she would never be the same again.

"I need you." And off to his dorm it was.

---

"What about you?" He asks.

"I am a stunt coordinator now." She says proudly.

It's his turn to laugh now. "You always did love your daggers."

There's a silence that's comfortable, and Loki takes a moment to steal a glance at her. She's still just as beautiful as he remembers, and it hurts.

"How are your parents?" He asks.

"Fine." She says with a smile. "How are yours?"

"Same." He doesn't elaborate. He always had a strained relationship with his father, and that hasn't changed.

Sylvie steadies herself before she asks the next question. "And is there a future Mrs Loki in the picture?"

He shakes his head. "No."

"Really?" She asks, surprised. "I'd imagine there would be a line of men and women."

"Yes. There have been a few." He confesses, and she feels her heart sink, until he speaks again. "But nothing real."

She nods, knowing exactly what he means. "It's been the same for me." She tells him honestly.

The waitress calls his name, and he gets up to grab their coffees. Sylvie watches him leave, his silhouette the sole object of her focus as everything else fades away, and suddenly she realises exactly what has been missing from her life.

Loki hands her the coffee. Sylvie takes a sip, burning her tongue a little.

They used to do this every single morning in the campus. Meet for coffee, talk about everything and anything in the world. It was their thing. She hasn't been able to have a cup without thinking of him ever since.

"Thor's married now." He says, rekindling the conversation.

"Sif?"

He shakes his head. "Jane. He met her a few years ago."

Sylvie stares into the brown of her coffee, stirring it and watching it swirl, like the thoughts in her head. She never thought Thor would marry someone other than Sif, but she guesses people are replaceable.

She is irreplaceable.

One day soon, Loki would marry someone that isn't her. The thought hurts more than it should ten years later.

It hurts to look at him and feel the same surge of feelings that are supposed to have gone away. After all, it was her decision to end things, and she has no right to feel this way now.

She wonders if he-

"Do you remember Mobius?" He asks abruptly, before she has a chance to truly indulge in the thoughts in her head.

How can she forget? He was a senior, and one of Loki's best friend.

"You'll never guess what he does for a living." Loki says, grinning.

They used to play the guessing game, and she'd always lose, but she wants to try nevertheless. "FBI Agent?"

"No." He says, his grin widening.

"Boy band manager?" She tries again. Finally, her eyebrows rise in curiosity, signalling her defeat.

He looks excited as he says the words. "Jetsky salesman."

"No way!" She laughs. "Those things still exist?"

"According to him, they do." He joins her laughter. "According to him, they sell."

"I don't believe him." She says bluntly.

"Neither do I." He agrees.

She glances at him, then at the campus grounds outside the window. There are more trees now, and more students, and more shops with "Free WiFi" signs. "This place has changed quite a lot."

"Ten years." He whispers. "Everything changes. You've changed."

She knows she has. But she's curious to see the changes in the eyes of someone who once knew her best. "Me? How?"

He shrugs. "You're... less wild now."

She snorts. "I assure you, I'm not."

"Less headstrong then." He corrects. "Less impulsive."

She doesn't respond, doesn't tell him he's right. Instead, she says, "You've changed too. Less... mischievous."

She's right. When she left, she took that part of him with her. For the next few months, he was severely depressed, barely coping. Mischief was the last thing on his mind.

He takes the final sip from his cup, and hers is empty too. He picks them up and throws them in the nearby bin, and the dreaded moment arrives again. He pulls the papers out once more, and she steadies herself.

"Do you ever wonder..." She stares into the distance, unable to look him in the eyes. "What would have happened if we had met a few years later? When we were older and wiser?"

"All the time", he admits. He has pictured a hundred different scenarios in his head over the years, where they stumble upon each other, and their romance awakens one more time. He also pictures scenarios in which they meet differently, and at nights, while he locks up his bar, sometimes he can picture her walking in for one last drink.

"I'm sorry." She tells him sincerely. "I shouldn't have given up on us so quickly."

"We wouldn't have made it if we kept going." He counters. "It would be toxic. We would have resented each other more."

"Do you resent me any less, though?" Her voice is timid, young.

"I don't resent you, Sylvie." He clarifies. "I just... I just don't think I can relive that hurt again. It was the worst phase of my life."

She nods, and picks up the pen, ready to sign. He places a hand over hers, stopping her, and she knows he feels the familiar jolt of electricity too, but neither of them dare to comment on it. "I'm sorry too." He tells her sincerely. "We got married too young. I shouldn't have proposed so soon."

She gives him a tiny smile, and continues signing away. He looks at the menu on the wall, so that he isn't staring at her. He reads the name of each item but comprehends nothing at all, his mind focused on one thing and only one thing.

It takes less than ten minutes for her to sign all the papers and for him to put it away in his briefcase. They both get up, knowing it's time to go their separate ways again.

"Take care of yourself", she says, teary-eyed.

And he can't help it. He can't resist the temptation to hold her in his arms one last time. He hugs her, tentatively at first, then tighter when she reciprocates. It lasts longer than what is appropriate for two people who are now strangers. When they part, tears are falling down her cheeks and clouding up his eyes.

"Take care of yourself, too." He tells her, his voice hoarse with emotions he's struggling to hold back. He holds out the door for her this time, and walks her to her car, and for the second time in his life, watches her drive away from him forever.

(To be continued. Don't kill me.)

#fanfiction #sylki fanfic #sylki #pro sylki #loki disney+#loki x sylvie #sylvie x loki #lovedaggers

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cora-vizsla · 4 years ago

Text

Hypnotic (Taking Over Me)- Chapter 3

Pairing: Eventual Jedi!OC x Sith!Obi Wan

Word Count: 3.7 K

Story Rating: E (18+)

Chapter Rating: I’m just gonna move these up to E now because I’d rather be safe than sorry.

Warning: Swearing. Threats of violence. Cannon typical violence. Calm kidnapping. There was only one bed. Almost naked cuddling. Dare I say fluff??

A/N: Please let me know if I missed any tags!

Zara was unable to fall back asleep. She could feel when Obi Wan finally succumbed to his own exhaustion and it set her on edge. She looked around quietly, keeping tabs on his signature across the building. There had been hope she could find her saber, but he must have stashed it away somewhere.

When she looked down to see her boots by the door, she decided she had no other choice. She couldn’t stay with her captor. There was a lack of clarity she wanted to rip out of her head even if it meant doing something risky. She told herself that Anakin wouldn’t sit around and wait at the mercy of anyone. It wasn’t her normal avenue of actions but hers obviously weren’t working. She shut her eyes and spoke like a mantra that Anakin would want her to fight. He would want her to escape.

Zara quickly pulled on her boots and grabbed a large jacket by the door. She could feel the chill coming through the door but knew that was the only time it was going to happen.

“I am a Jedi knight. I can do this. I can get back and warn the counsel. I can save Anakin.”

She winced when the cold hit her face and she realized then Obi Wan would feel the air change. She pulled the door shut and started running off in the direction she thought they had come from. There were still some footprints, but it was hard to follow. Snow had drifted over part of their journey, so she stopped to look around. Between the cold and running, her chest was heaving trying to pull in air.

“Zara! Zara you are going to die trying to run off like this!”

She whipped around to her captor having already caught up to her.

“I can’t stay here! I can’t let you manipulate me and hurt Anakin. I won’t!”

“You’re smarter than this!”

“Let me go! If you have one shred of decency in you, let me go!”

He stood up tall and shrugged his jacket off, letting it fall to the ground. He tossed something to Zara, and she caught it quickly, gasping when she realized it was her saber. She looked back up at him as he ignited his blood red blade.

“Fight me. If you can best me, I’ll deliver you back to the temple myself.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you stay here and stop trying to get yourself killed.”

She looked down at her saber and considered what he was saying. She had yet to actually see him fight.

“Letting me go would be directly going against your Master.”

“It would.”

“Then why offer me this?”

“If I can’t best a new Jedi Knight then I don’t deserve to keep her captive.”

Resolution washed over her. She ignited her blade and a sick smile spread across the Siths face. She carefully pulled off her own jacket and set it down, not taking her eyes off her enemy. He spun his saber a few times easily and fluidly.

“Come on, darling, it’s cold out here. Time to get this over with so we can get back in the warmth of our home.”

Zara wanted to snarl but instead closed her eyes and took a deep steadying breath. She let herself feel everything within the force. She trusted herself and her abilities. When she opened her eyes, she had a new look of determination. She no longer looked at him as Obi Wan, lost Jedi. He was Lord Veth and he needed to be defeated.

Veth was the first to move forward, quicker than she expected, and their sabers clashed together. He gave her a dangerous smile and broke away, quickly striking again with a fury she was not prepared for. She was able to block every swing, but it frustrated her she couldn’t turn it, so she was on the offensive. She could tell he was holding back and only pushing forward to keep her unbalanced. He felt her frustration and laughed when they locked their sabers together again.

“Darling, have I told you how stunning you look in my clothes?”

In frustration, Zara shot her arm out, using the force to push him back. He was able to keep himself on his feet as he immediately moved forward again. With a grin, Zara raised her hand again and a bright light emanated around her. Veth shielded his eyes, temporarily caught off balance.

“Little knight you surprise me.”

“Stars, do you ever shut up?”

“How rude, we were having such a good conversation. How long are you going to keep this up? I’m stronger than you are, sweetheart. You aren’t going to best me in battle.”

She knew he was right. Between fighting off the cold and trying to use the force so much she was getting exhausted. She stepped forward a few steps, hoping the blinding light would protect her movements just a bit. When she dropped her arm and ceased the blinding light, she quickly brought her saber down. Veth seemed to be expecting it when his arm shot up, using the force to wrap tightly around her throat.

“Now, now. That wasn’t very admirable. You are so much better than cheap tricks.”

He kept the force on her long enough that she dropped her saber and clawed at herself. He watched her struggle until tears welled in her eyes.

“Do you yield, darling?”

She shook her head and he sighed in annoyance. He let go, letting her crash to the ground with a thud. When she tried to move further than up to her knees, she realized that he was still using the force to keep her in place.

“I’m not killing you. Nice try though.”

He held his saber up to her chest and watched as the red danced off her face.

“Yield.”

“Why? You said you won’t kill me.”

“I can maim you. Maybe cut one of your legs off so you can’t run anymore. You only really need one hand. Hope you get my point.”

She glared up at him in defiance. He sighed and moved the blade forward, pressing it against her shoulder. Zara cried out from the burn and he shifted his weight, clearly annoyed.

“I’m not really into torture, dear. Please just yield so we can go inside.”

“No.”

“Fine.”

He reached forward and touched her head, rendering her unconscious instantly. He caught her and pulled her limp body close to his. Once he made sure he had both sabers he started towards the cabin.

“You have so much to learn, little knight. Hopefully you can accomplish that without many more scars.”

---

Zaras eyes fluttered open to immediately seeing the fireplace. She took inventory of her body and other than the tingle of warming limbs, she seemed to be okay. There were blankets under her as padding on the hard floor and a pillow under her head. When she shifted, she realized that the blankets felt way too soft against her skin. She peeked under the blanket to see that she was wearing nothing but her breast band and underwear.

“Your clothes were wet. Not that you believe anything I say but nothing unfavorable happened to you. I may be a monster, but I am not that type.”

She turned her head to look at him. He was sitting leaning against the wall wearing fresh clothes and his hair was wet where it fell in front of his eyes. She sat up slowly making sure one of the blankets was wrapped around her still.

“I placed a bacta patch on your shoulder. It shouldn’t scar too badly.”

She nodded and continued to look at him.

“Surprised you didn’t put force binders on me.”

“Why? The force is the only reason why you didn’t die out there. I don’t think you understand how inhabitable this planet is.”

“You’re mad at me.”

He sighed and brushed his hair back, finally making eye contact with her.

“I’m disappointed that you would be that reckless. You easily could have died.”

“What does it even matter? You accomplished your goal either way. Anakin is at the mercy of your Master and I am out of the picture.”

“You.. Zara I have met many beings in my travels in my life. I have traveled to many planets and seen wars rage around me. Up until I saw you on the battlefield, I had only ever known of one person that cared so deeply for life. It.. got her killed and the galaxy is darker for it.”

“The one you were in love with?”

He nodded and pulled one knee up so he could rest his arm on it. Zara caught herself wanting to console him but kept still. Master Windu had told her multiple times that her compassion could be dangerous. She didn’t want him to be right, but she was trying to figure out how to console her Sith captor.

“S-Satine. Her name was Satine. I was a padawan still when I went to Mandalore to protect her.”

“She was a Mandalorian?”

“Yes, the leader actually. She needed help because she saw a brighter future for her people. A future free of war and loss. She saw peace when no one else could, myself included.”

“Is that why you fell?”

He scoffed and shook his head.

“No. I told you, the Jedi did that to me. Though finding out she was gone did contribute to my anger.”

“I still don’t see how this connects to me.”

“The first thing I noticed about Satine was the fact that she cared so deeply. When faced with opposition she didn’t want to raise a weapon, she wanted to figure out how to stop everyone else from doing so. I followed you and Anakin on one of your first missions. It was the first opportunity that I could get to you without a Jedi Master sensing me the moment I landed.”

“That was nearly two cycles ago.”

“I know. I stood where I could keep the high ground in case you two noticed me. I expected you two to run in with absolutely no plan.”

“That’s what Anakin wanted to do.”

He nodded and she smiled softly at the memory.

“You though, darling, you had a plan. You had a plan to keep every one of your clone troopers safe. Clones. Quite literally made to be dispensable and replaceable. Yet you talked to them and listened to them. Your plan was good. Not strategic or quick, but it was the path of least resistance.”

Zara’s face fell and she sighed.

“I lost three troopers that day. The counsel let me know it was a success but all I felt was heartache. Life had been lost.”

“I saw that too. You don’t look like her nor do you act like her. Not really. You have the same heart though. I thought it was one of a kind but here you are, shining so brightly it’s sickening.”

Zara laughed and wrapped her covered arms around her legs, resting her head on her knees.

“Wont your Master find you weak for not killing me?”

“No. I told him I could turn you to the dark side.”

“I won’t.”

“I know that, sweetheart. I knew that from the beginning. I also knew that his greed and lust for power would see two incredibly young and strong force users under his control. He only needs Skywalker. He won’t pay as much attention to you. You’re just a bonus.”

“That’s.. devious.”

He chuckled and finally smiled fully.

“What else do you expect? I thought that’s all you saw in Sith.”

“You’re openly deceiving your Master.”

“The end goal of a Sith is to overpower their Master. We don’t work with them. We don’t trust them.”

“That sounds like a very lonely life, Obi Wan.”

He gave her a genuine smile. It was free of malice and ulterior motives. Zara couldn’t help but smile back at him, feeling a strange sense of peace flowing between the two.

“So is a life devoid of love and connections. We have two different types of master’s that lead us to the same cruel fate.”

Zara wanted to argue with him. She wanted to tell him that she was happy being a Jedi and didn’t mind the compromises she had to endure because of it. There was a line she had recited a thousand times when faced with questions about her chosen life. At that moment she couldn’t seem to form it into words.

“Your silences speak volumes, Jedi.”

“So do your actions, Sith. Where does that leave us?”

“I suppose we can figure it out tomorrow.”

“Why rush it? Doesn’t seem like either of us are going anywhere anytime soon.”

“How right you are, little knight. A Jedi and a Sith climb into a ship.”

Zara laughed and grinned at her own joke.

“And somehow find a way to understand each other.”

“For now.”

“Right. For now.”

---

Zara wished she wasn’t comfortable. As she laid next to the fire wrapped in comfortable blankets, she felt warm which was something she had been missing for days. The two had fallen into a comfortable silence. When she heard Obi Wan sigh, she turned to look at him. He looked much less comfortable than when she had woken up.

“Are you okay?”

He startled and looked at her, nodding.

“I’m fine, darling. Don’t fret about me. It’s unbecoming of a Jedi Knight.”

She huffed out a sigh and looked at him closer. She noticed the small tremors in his hands.

“You’re cold.”

“You are so rather perceptive.”

“Is your room warm?”

“Not particularly.”

She looked at all the blankets she was wrapped up in and felt guilty.

“Why don’t.. why don’t you come over here?”

His head snapped up at her question and it made her stifle a laugh.

“I can see that you’re cold. Instead of being warm in your own home you’re making sure that I am.”

“What kind of host would I be if I let you freeze to death.”

“Veth.”

“Again, not that kind of monster. Can’t imagine freezing to death would be very comfortable.”

“Can’t imagine? Looks like you are right now.”

He chuckled and went to retort but Zara wasn’t having it.

“Obi Wan.”

He fell silent and looked at her.

“If you can’t look at it as an act of kindness, look at it as an act of self-preservation. You want me to make smart choices, right?”

“Self-preservation.”

“If you die, I’m stuck on the planet with no idea where your ship is. Sitting in the house with a frozen Sith doesn’t sound fun.”

He chuckled and got up, walking over to where she was curled up by the fire. He slipped his outer shirt off and hesitated. Zara held open the blankets, so he climbed in, making sure he wasn’t touching her. When he let out a sigh at the heat she smiled.

“Between the fire and how warm it is in here you should be comfortable soon.”

“It’s already leagues better.”

“Good.”

He looked at her steadily enough that she could see all the shades in his eyes. When he wasn’t threatening or yelling at her she thought that they were almost beautiful. He reached up and gently pushed her hair back, his fingers grazing her skin.

“Stars, Obi Wan, you’re freezing.”

“I’ll survive.”

“You’ve really got to stop running out into the cold chasing stupid Jedi.”

He smirked and nodded, looking down as Zara took his hands in hers.

“Not to be crass, but you would get warmer if you weren’t wearing your clothes.”

He chuckled and shook his head.

“You’re taking all my lines, sweetheart.”

“Just self-preservation, remember?”

“Right. Not an ounce of kindness.”

“For you? Absolutely not. Never.”

He hummed and slipped his shirt off before doing the same with his pants. He was left wearing only his own underwear making it easier for Zara to see just how discolored his skin was.

“Veth, now who is being foolish.”

“I like it better when you call me Obi Wan.”

“Well, Obi Wan doesn’t sound like a fool. So, when you’re acting foolish then I’ll call you by a foolish name.”

He chuckled and shifted closer. They both told themselves it was to get more heat. Both were convinced that the only reason the other was close was to ensure they survived. Survival was smart. Sharing a bed with a sworn enemy was not. So, the easiest way to deal with their situation was to convince themselves that everything was simple.

“Then what do I call you when you’re being foolish?”

“Hmm. You usually call me Jedi.”

“It is one of the worst insults I know.”

“Watch it.”

They both laughed and Zara yawned.

“Get some sleep. Please don’t bolt out the door again.”

“I couldn’t escape without waking you regardless. You’re on the outside of this blanket cocoon. I’d have to uncover you.”

“Very true.”

“Turn around. Face the fire so you can get some heat from it.”

“You could just tell me I’m ugly.”

“Shut up, Veth.”

Obi Wan chuckled and rolled to his right, reveling at the heat of the fire on his face. He didn’t want to admit it, but he had been rather cold. When he felt a small arm wrap around him and Zara’s body press against his back, he had to stop himself from flinching. He felt her rest her forehead against his upper back and nestle in. He could have groaned at how warm she was but absolutely didn’t want to scare her off.

“Maker you’re cold. Next time you kidnap someone bring them to a more temperate planet.”

He chuckled and gently moved his arm, so he could place his hand over hers.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good.”

He felt her nestle in deeper, getting comfortable up against him. He smiled to himself when her sigh danced across his skin right before she fell asleep. He knew that he should be trying to turn her to the dark. His Master would be furious at his weakness. The idea of trying to corrupt someone so light and kind was repulsive to him.

He could feel her breath steadily fan across his back as she slept peacefully. He hated the Jedi, that much was true. He would never be able to go back nor would he be able to escape the darkness that held him so tightly. Zara didn’t make him forgive the Jedi, but he found himself forgiving her for being one.

It had been a very long time since Obi Wan felt anything but contempt for another living being. He could hardly remember what it felt like to have someone’s arm wrapped around him, no matter the circumstance. He tried to tell himself that he shouldn’t feel anything but the physical sensation of warmth.

The truth though? That warmth meant everything to him.

---

When Zara woke, she didn’t want to open her eyes. She felt warm and comfortable regardless of how sore her body was. She nestled her face into the warmth in front of her and let out a sleepy sigh. When she felt something shift, she froze.

“Did you forget you fell asleep next to me?”

She opened her eyes and found herself looking directly at Obi Wan’s bare chest. He had his arms wrapped around her, holding her close to him.

“I guess I did. Uhm. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. We are both warm. Survival, right?”

She nodded against him, tentatively letting herself nestle back into the heat surrounding them.

“I didn’t.. I didn’t wake you at all I hope?”

“If you had any nightmares they didn’t show. Do you have them most nights?”

“Sleep isn’t something that is usually peaceful for me.”

“Perhaps there was enough darkness around you that your mind didn’t need to manifest any of it.”

Zara looked back up as he looked down, locking eyes with her.

“Your darkness is.. different.”

“Oh?”

He had an amused look on his face but the hesitance in his eyes told Zara that he was uncomfortable. She shook her head and looked back down. They had come to a tentative peace, but he was still dangerous. A different type of darkness didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous. Obi Wan gently hook his finger under her chin, tilting her head back up.

“You have nothing to fear, darling.”

“We both know that isn’t true.”

He hummed as he ran his thumb across her bottom lip.

“I suppose you are correct. I don’t want you to fear me though. I will not harm you outside of necessity. Now tell me, what did you mean?”

Zara took a steady breath, willing down the nervousness and trepidation. She wasn’t used to being close to people, let alone someone who was an enemy of everything she stood for. She was vulnerable which was something she just was not comfortable with.

“That first day that I saw you, when you confronted Anakin and me. I felt your darkness. I felt it long before I saw you. I’m no stranger to the dark side but I also have never felt it the way that you carry it. You’re dark but.. you’re not chaotic. I see you calculating everything. As much as you say that I am different for my reverence for life, you are different too.”

“You picked all that up when we met?”

“I picked up on it but the longer I’ve been around you the more I see it. I’ve run into other Sith. I’ve fought them. Their energy was hard to be around because it was so unstable.”

“Are you saying I am less of a Sith?”

“No. Your eyes let me know that truth. It’s not that you’re light.”

He chuckled and moved his hand, so he was cupping her face.

“Your darkness is strong. It’s powerful but it isn’t all consuming like the others I’ve come across. You have a control over yourself that rivals even some of the strongest Jedi I have known.”

“Hmm, that almost sounds like a compliment.”

“I guess it is. At the very least it’s an admittance of me being taken by surprise. You are.. not what I expected.”

“Neither are you, darling. Neither are you.”

Tag List:

@mapplestrudel

If you would like to be added/removed please let me know

#sith!obi wan #sith!kenobi #sith!Obi wan x OC #Jedi!oc #jedi!zara #ZaraFross #star wars imagine #starwars #star wars #there was only one bed

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davidpastrsnack · 5 years ago

Text

drive (pt. 1) - matthew tkachuk

a/n: slow burn friends to lovers is my shit and so is matthew so here we are. the name is inspired by the song drive by halsey, a classic friends to lovers anthem. i hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think!

After three months of freedom with you friends and family, the summer was finally coming to an end. To celebrate, you and your close group decided to rent a house on the lake for the weekend, clear of all parents and responsibility. When Friday morning rolled around you finished packing your bag before heading off with your two partners in crime, Matthew and Brady.

You grew up in St. Louis, quickly becoming acquainted with the Tkachuk family when your dad accepted a position within the Blues management with Keith. For as long as you could remember, they were your best friends, but especially Matthew. He was the closest in age to you and since day one you were inseparable.

There was no denying that his move to Calgary took a toll on your relationship. You texted every now and then, but it was obvious that you had two seperate lives that the other wasn’t a part of. But despite this, every summer it was like you were still those twelve year olds running around as if nothing had changed.. Except now you two got into a lot more trouble together.

Matthew was driving and you sat in the passenger seat, always forcing Brady in the back for as long as you could remember. They were bickering about Matthew’s choice of music and you started to zone out, getting lost in the scenery as you traveled further and further from the city.

The reality of summer ending was starting to hit you. You had graduated college just a few months ago, yet nothing career wise seemed to be panning out. Your parents reminded you not to worry, that you could stay with them until something came together, but it made hearing all your friends’ plans for the year that much harder. You were over the moon for them, but each time it felt like a reminder of your failure.

You were suddenly pulled out of your trance by the pest in the backseat, feeling him poke your shoulder repeatedly.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N,” Brady joked.

“Sorry,” you shook your head. “What?” you asked, turning to face the blonde.

“Can you go on aux? I can’t listen to his shit any longer.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you connected to the bluetooth in Matthew’s far too expensive car.

“Will you relax?” Matthew muttered to you. “You promised me you wouldn’t stress about anything this weekend,” he pleaded, placing his free hand just above your bare knee.

“How long have you known me? Seriously, when am I not stressing?” you retorted, raising your gaze to meet with his ice blue eyes.

“Fair enough,” he chuckled. “But just try, please.”

“You two are something,” you heard from the backseat, shifting to glare at Brady.

Just like that, Matthew’s hand slipped from it’s post on your leg, moving to turn up the music to shut up his brother.

-----

After finally arriving at the lake later that evening, you all decided to go out to the local bar, a classic, dingy spot that always seemed to make the best memories. You were sharing a room with your close friend Emma, right across the hall from the boys. You got ready with the other girls, opting for a simple outfit of jeans, a white top, and sneakers. The air was hot and thick as soon as you walked in, and you moved straight to get a drink.

Hours later, everyone was having a great time, letting loose for one last weekend before reality struck. You had just enough alcohol running through your veins for a fun buzz, but you weren’t too far gone yet. You and Emma were dancing, totally lost in the beat of the music when your face suddenly dropped.

There was no way.

But unfortunately your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. Your ex-boyfriend had just walked in with his posse, catching your glance right away and sending you a sick smirk. You hadn’t seen Logan in over a year, but of course here he was the night you were finally able to relax with your friends. Your buzz seemingly disappeared instantly, and you left the girls to go sit at the booth with the guys. You slid in next to Matthew, his arm instinctually wrapping around your shoulders as he kept listening to the conversation.

It didn’t take long for him to figure out that something was off with you, he could feel the tension in your body beneath his grasp.

He lowered his head to be level with your ear, “You good?”

You didn’t want to tell him what was wrong, knowing he would have no restraint. To put it simply, Matthew never liked Logan, but especially not after what he put you through during the breakup.

You nodded, giving him a soft smile. “I just need another drink,” you deflected, slipping from under his arm to get up.

“Wait,” he grabbed your wrist, “I’ll come.”

He didn’t know what was going on, but he had a gut feeling that he shouldn’t let you go alone.

And he was right. As soon as you guys made it to the bar Matthew locked eyes with Logan.

“Y/N, is that…” he trailed off, not wanting to freak you out.

You turned to look where he was, sighing as you saw Logan standing across from you two.

“Yup, it is,” you said, letting out a nervous laugh.

Matthew’s energy shifted immediately, exactly how it does when he’s on the ice. His light eyes darkened and he visibly stood taller, glaring in Logan’s direction.

“Matthew,” you warned. “It’s fine. Just leave it alone. Please,” you begged, wrapping your hand around his bicep in hopes of calming him down. You didn’t want anyone to make a scene, and you knew that’s exactly what would happen if the two of them got any closer to each other.

Just like you thought, your touch made him snap out of his trance, looking back down at you.

“Fine, but if he comes any closer I make no promises,” he declared.

After getting your drinks the two of you stayed put, listening to Matthew ramble about the upcoming season. Logan hadn’t moved, but your back was turned to him so you couldn’t see.

But Matthew could, and he most definitely noticed that he seemed to be inching closer to you, his destination obvious.

The gears in Matthew’s mind started moving right away. He needed to get him away from you but he knew you would kill him if he made a big deal about it.

You were mid-sentence when he panicked.

“Kiss me,” he interrupted.

You were stunned, the shock evident on your face. “What-”

Before you could get another word out, Matthew was grabbing your face and bringing your lips to his. Despite being beyond startled and confused, your body took over and you melted into him. Your lips moved together like they were made for each other, his tongue working perfectly with yours. Your hands moved up his chest and circled around his neck, gently tugging his curls. One of his much bigger hands dropped to your waist, urging you to arch into him.

Matthew was so lost in the moment that he forgot why he kissed you in the first place. He just couldn’t seem to pull himself away, a fire ignited deep within him by your touch. But finally he slowed his lips, gently separating from you and lifting his eyes to scan the bar. It worked, Logan was sitting on a stool with his back facing you both. Message received, loud and clear.

You slipped your hands from his neck, quietly trying to catch your breath as Matthew leaned over your shoulder. After a few seconds he looked back down at you, a cocky, but sweet, smile on his face. It took everything within you not to stare at his lips, pink and swollen, but you quickly snapped out of it when it hit you what had just happened.

You hit his chest, making him stumble back slightly, not expecting it.

“What the hell was that?” you questioned. It wasn’t that you were angry, but now you were forced to confront your feelings for the man in front of you. You obviously weren’t blind to his looks and charm, but you had always admired them from afar, never challenging your status as friend. And you were truly at peace with that, but now that you had a taste of him you wanted more.

His face was laced with nerves, realizing he might have really crossed the line. But then again, you didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m sorry, I-, Logan looked like he was coming over and I didn’t want him to but you didn’t want me to make a scene so I thought if I kissed you he would leave you alone,” his word vomit was in full force, letting everything out in one breath. “I think it worked though.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you, I guess,” you laughed.

And just like that, Matthew was back to his usual self.

“Trust me, no problem,” he winked with his classic smirk on, grabbing your arm to guide you back to the booth.

You rolled your eyes at him, grateful that he couldn’t see your blush. Now you were just hoping that no one saw. The last thing you wanted to do was have to explain that to anyone.

Nearly an hour later you were standing outside the bathroom waiting for Emma to come out. As much as you tried to act normal with Matthew, you were struggling to say the least. Any feelings you previously had were now infinitely amplified and it made him leaving again that much harder, not that anything would happen if he wasn’t leaving.

You were scrolling through Instagram as you waited when you saw the silhouette of a big body heading towards you. You assumed it was Matthew, but you were horribly wrong, looking up to lock eyes with Logan.

“Well hello there, Y/N,” he slurred. Of course, he was beyond drunk.

“Logan, leave me alone. Please,” you pleaded, head glancing at the door wondering what was taking Emma so long.

“Relax, I just want to catch up a little.”

You didn’t respond, rather you went back on your phone, hoping he would just walk away if you ignored him.

“So, you’re finally fucking that asshole Tkachuk, huh?”

Your heart sank at his words, but the anger quickly followed.

“Excuse me?” you were genuinely stunned at how bold he was being. “Who I’m fucking is absolutely none of your business,” you hissed.

Just as you went to enter the bathroom in search of refuge from his harassment, another body joined you, but this time it was one you welcomed.

Brady headed towards you the second he caught eye of the situation, making it just in time to hear Logan’s words.

“Everything okay over here?” He challenged Logan. He pulled you into his side, his arm snaking around your shoulders. He might have been younger, but he towered over both of you.

“Who the fuck are you?” Logan asked, puffing his chest out. You rolled your eyes at his actions, not understanding how someone could be so dumb to mess with these two.

“I’m the asshole’s brother,” he calmly responded.

You had to stifle your laughter at his comment, turning to hide your face in the crook of his arm.

At that Logan gave up, storming off back into the crowd.

“Thanks, Brades,” you smiled up at him, giving his torso a squeeze before letting go and leaning against the wall.

“Of course. But I have to ask, are you fucking the asshole?” He raised his brows at you, a silent way of saying ‘don’t lie to me.’

“What? Are you crazy?” You exclaimed, trying to deflect as quickly as possible.

“Y/N,” he warned.

“No. We are not fucking. Jesus, Brady.”

“Alright, but you two need to figure your shit out,” he murmured.

Before you could give him your rebuttal the door swung open and Emma emerged.

“Hey!” You yelled, grateful for the distraction.

You grabbed her hand, walking side by side towards the door to head home. Brady trailed behind you and you knew you needed to say something to him before you were back with the group.

You turned your head back to face him, “There is no shit to figure out. Drop it,” you snapped.

He threw his hands up, acting like he was totally innocent. But even though you and Matthew were clueless, Brady knew it was only a matter of time before you two came to your senses.

-----

The next day was spent on the boat with the music blasting and the alcohol flowing. Despite everything within him telling him to stop, Matthew couldn’t help but stare at you in that bikini. He prayed that his sunglasses hid the way his eyes dragged over your frame every chance he got. It felt dirty to look at you like that, but last night was like a slap in the face, awakening him to how far gone he truly was for you.

The day ended with a bonfire back at the house, everyone cozying up around the pit reminiscing on another summer together. You were laughing at someone's story and once again, Matthew’s eyes betrayed him. He was in the chair next to yours, so enthralled in watching you so happy. You had been so stressed out about graduation and finding a job that you deserved a weekend of freedom.

He couldn’t help but notice how you started to shiver as the sun went down, only wearing your still-damp bikini and a pair of shorts. He moved to get up to grab you something, but you stopped him.

“Matty? Where are you going?”

His knees almost gave out at the nickname. You had called him that ever since you were kids, but everything had a new meaning now that his feelings were all he could think of.

“I’ll be right back,” he assured.

You nodded, joining back into the conversation. It was dumb, but you already missed having him there.

He was back within minutes, handing you one of his sweatshirts. You thanked him, pulling the soft material over your head, taking your time so you could hide the blush that you knew covered your cheeks. It smelled just like him, and you had a feeling that he wasn’t going to be getting it back anytime soon. His gaze lingered over his name and number on your shoulder, noting how good they looked on you.

As it got later and later, people started going up to their rooms, eventually leaving just you and Matthew alone.

“Come here,” he quietly gestured towards himself.

“I’m right here,” you laughed.

“And you’re also freezing. So come here,” he repeated.

You couldn’t deny that you were still cold, your bare legs not helping much. You slowly stood up, walking to his chair. He moved his arms from his lap so you could sit down, your body resting across his thighs. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him, and you already felt yourself warm up from the heat he was radiating.

You sat in a comfortable silence for a while, your head lying on his shoulder as you both watched the fire die out.

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy, but hear me out,” he mumbled, finally breaking the silence.

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, “What are you up to now?”

“Come to Calgary with me.”

part two here

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #nhl imagine #nhl writing #hockey imagine #hockey writing #my writing

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tanyawritesstories · 4 years ago

Text

Frozen Chances | The Mandalorian x Reader

So here is the much asked for sequel to Frozen Miracles that I promised. I hope y'all think it's as good at the first part. Enjoy 😊

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: violence, fluff, feelings, yearning, use of the Force, Din is coincidentally great with children

•••

Nexlar was finally in sight. After a rough and bumpy five hour journey, the moon was finally within their reach. Din was tired, he hadn’t slept in about thirty hours. He had planned to after the kids were asleep, then Mandi decided to rearrange the interior of the ship with the first display of her powers. Din was still stunned and confused about the entire situation. He knew it wasn’t normal for children to have these abilities. His son was technically fifty years old and evidently knew how to use his powers to a certain extent. But Mandi was a newborn, only a few days old and she was exhibiting barely controlled displays of the same power.

Din had stayed in the cockpit ever since the small ordeal. Y/N hadn’t spoken anymore, just sat on the floor forcing herself to stay awake and hold her baby. She was terrified. She hadn’t let go of Mandi since, just cradled her in her arms, crying softly from time to time. Din was a bounty hunter, he’d been all over the galaxy and seen all sorts of strange things. Chances are this woman had never, or at least barely, left Tatooine. She was from a small corner of the galaxy where the unusual things were stormtroopers and blaster fire that lasted longer than a few minutes. Undoubtedly, the powers her foundling was displaying were concerning rather than confusing.

He brought the Crest into the planet’s atmosphere. A good part of the planet was forested, but he managed to pick out a city and put down the Crest on the edge of the forest. He climbed down into the hull, finding Y/N still hadn't moved from the floor at the end of his bunk. She had been awake as long as he had, if not longer. She was still looking at her daughter, trying to keep her eyes open she was so fatigued. Din could just barely see the dark bags under her eyes, every time her eyes started closing she would open them and blink a few times, trying to ward off her exhaustion.

He heard a small clang and looked over to see the child had somehow gotten into his ammunition stash, and was seconds away from sticking a charge for his pulse rifle into his mouth. “No, no, no,” he said kneeling down and snatching the bullet away. “That’s not food, you can’t eat that.” He returned it to the container and locked it back up, sighing and picking up his little green gremlin. He turned back around and saw she had finally looked up at him.

I’m sorry. I should have been watching him. She signed.

“It’s alright,” he said, “we’re on Nexlar but it’s getting late and you shouldn’t go walking around in the city at this hour. Why don’t you get some sleep, I’ll watch her.” Her shoulders sagged and she looked on the verge of tears again.

I don’t know what’s wrong with her, I have never seen anything like that.

Din kneeled in front of her and set the child by her feet. “I have. My little one has the same abilities. I don’t know how it’s possible, but he can move things with his mind. I think your foundling has the same powers,” he informed. He saw her relax a little, looking at his child who was trying to climb onto her lap.

So it’s not a bad thing then? Or anything that will hurt her?

“No, it’s nothing bad. She just can do things that other infants can’t,” he told her. "You can hold her then, but you need to get some sleep." She looked sad again but reluctantly held Mandi out to him. Din took the baby into his arms and cradled her against his chest. He held the little girl close and made sure she was comfortable in his arms, looking up he saw Y/N watching with a smile as he interacted with her baby. He nodded to his bed and she removed his child before slowly climbing onto his bed. Din picked his son off the floor and stood up.

“We’ll switch, you can always get him to sleep,” Din said. He placed his little one at the foot of the bed and he made his way to lay next to her head. She smiled and wrapped an arm around him protectively, ghosting a kiss to his cheek. Din exhaled slowly as he watched her turn off the lights. He would hate to see her go in the morning, she was so good with the kids, an excellent mechanic and he knew she could pilot a ship with her eyes closed. He would love to have someone with her skills aboard. The more he thought about it, the more she reminded him of Kuiil. A caring individual who was as skilled as she was kind. Someone who had experienced hardships in the past but had overcome them and chosen not to let that affect the peace they seeked. Only Kuiil was in a different state of peace now.

Din didn't want to be sad right now, he wanted to cherish this little girl as much as he could before he would never see her again. He retrieved one of the bottles of milk Y/N had pumped before they left the ice planet. She'd stashed it underneath a panel in the wall, knowing it would stay cold there. He climbed into the cockpit and took his seat, nudging Mandi’s lips with the soft tip of the bottle so she would open her mouth. He smiled under his helmet as she latched onto the bottle and began drinking.

Is this what it feels like to be the father of a normal child?

Mandi wasn’t normal, not anymore, but she was human and looking at her you would never know she had unnatural powers. Even though she was so young one could see that Mandi had her mother’s nose, lips, and face shape. However, her eyes and hair were a dark brown, evidently traits from her father; Din wondered what the man had looked like. He looked out the viewports at the surrounding forest. The strange, alien trees glowed in the darkness and the city had quieted down, it was peaceful and steady here. Din hoped Y/N and Mandi would be able to live here and be happy for a long time.

~~~~

Din had allowed himself to drift off to sleep once Mandi had finished her dinner. He shifted a bit in his chair and noticed the weight was gone from his lap and arms. He jolted awake and looked around, getting his bearings before rushing down into the hull. He opened his quarters and saw nothing, he turned around and calmed at the sight. Y/N was sitting on the floor again, breastfeeding Mandi while making sure his child didn’t spill the broth she had made for him. He sighed in relief and walked over, kneeling in front of her. Y/N had a blanket over the front of her to cover herself as she fed her child, wincing every now and then.

“Is she still biting you?” He asked. The woman nodded with a strained smile.

I’ll get used to it.

Din nodded. “Do you need anything before you go?” He asked. She shook her head and gave him a sad smile. Maybe she didn’t want to go either? He wished he had the guts to ask her to stay, he wanted her to stay. He reminded himself that his life was not suited for a woman and her child, the best thing he could do for her was let her go. He helped her pack up her few things and made sure she had everything she might need that he could give her. He opened the side ramp, facing the city.

“These are for you,” he said, handing her a pouch off his belt. She took and opened it, her eyes widening at the contents. It was the credits she gave him before they left Tatooine, his payment.

No, I can’t take this, these are yours.

“You’ll need them, nothing is cheap these days,” he said. She still looked apprehensive. “You can’t start over if you’ve got nothing to start with.”

She finally gave in and took the credits from him. Din reached over and brushed his glove-covered knuckles over Mandi’s cheek. “I know you’ll take good care of her,” he said. She nodded and smiled, looking over to see his little one standing on the end of his bed. She walked over to him and pecked a kiss on the top of his head.

I’ll miss you. She signed to him. She came back next to Din, smiling softly.

I’ll miss you too. Thank you for everything you’ve done. If you ever need anything, please come to me. I'd love to help.

He nodded in acknowledgement, not knowing what to say or even if he could say it. "Thank you, I hope you find what you're looking for here," was all he managed to say. She nodded back and adjusted Mandi in her wrap before walking down the ramp and into the city.

~~~~

The rest of the flight to Trask was more boring than he thought it would be. He didn't realize they hadn't fixed the landing gear as well as he thought, causing the Crest to plunge into the ocean at the last minute. At least the patches in the hull held up.

Din met the contacts at the marina. A lovely and welcoming couple that appeared to be a frog-like species. They couldn't speak basic, but they led him and his child into a nearby inn. His mind was taken away from how lonely he now felt, the feeling replaced with progress. He finally felt like he was getting somewhere.

The day passed, quick and chaotic. He found the Mandalorians he was looking for, but it nearly cost the child's life as well as his own. He was barely able to sleep the first night on Trask. He was starting to wonder if there were any of his kind left; anyone he knew or grew up with. Were they all gone? Was Bo-Katan right about his people? Were they actually a cult, or was she wrong and her opinion was tainted. He didn’t know what to believe.

When it came the next day, Din wished he had Y/N now more than anything. This mission was too dangerous to bring the child with, and so he left him in the care of the kind frog couple. They were nice and appeared to have new little ones of their own. Din was almost wishing he had left the kid with Y/N on Nexlar until he was certain he’d found a Jedi.

The mission went about as smoothly as things go around Din, which of course meant that there were several hiccups and issues. In the end he got the location of a Jedi, but was still frustrated with the so-called Mandalorians we had worked with. After picking the child back up, Din headed back to the Crest. The Mon Calamari he had paid handsomely to repair his beloved vessel had not done nearly the job he should have for the amount Din had paid him.

Frustrated, tired, and overwhelmed, Din knew the Crest would need more repairs, he would need sleep and food and so would the child. He took off and debated where to program the nav computer. He thought for a moment before punching in the coordinates to Nexlar. He would have a proposition to make.

~~~~

Luckily, the landing gear had been fixed and he was able to put his ship down in the same place as before. He was forced to carry the child in his shoulder bag after the crib had been destroyed by the sea creature. He made his way into town after securing the Crest. Din had no way of knowing where she had settled and so resorted to asking around. It didn’t take him long. A few of the merchants in the town square said she visited regularly, but only one was willing to tell him where she lived after he explained he was a friend who was there to check up on her. It was getting later in the day and Din purchased a few things for dinner and made his way to her home. Her home turned out to be two small connected rooms built behind an apothecary. He had thought with the amount of credits she had that she would have been able to afford better lodging.

The second he knocked, he heard a baby start crying. The door opened and revealed a tired looking Y/N. Without warning, she hugged him, pressing her face into his cold chest plate. Din was a bit taken aback but put his free arm around her briefly. "I, uh, brought dinner," he said nervously. She looked up at him and smiled, grabbing his arm and half dragging him inside. The moment she closed the door she began signing at a blinding pace.

I don't know what to do, I've tried so many different things and I'm out of ideas. She's not sick, she's not lacking any necessary vitamins, but she won't sleep and she barely eats.

The woman stopped and sighed, looking moments away from tears. She dug her hands into her hair and tried to calm herself down. Din set the food down on her table, now also concerned about the baby. "What's happened since I left?"

Nothing, nothing major. But she hasn't slept for more than a few hours since we got here. I don't know what to do anymore.

Din took his child out of his carry bag and set him on the floor after checking to make sure there was nothing he could get into. "Can I try?" He shyly asked. She motioned for him to go ahead as she collected the things he brought and took them to a counter. Din walked into the adjoining room, the bedroom, finding Mandi wrapped in a blanket, squirming and crying. His heart broke for the little one and he rushed to her side, scooping her up in his arms.

"Shh, shh. There, there, little one. It's ok now," he spoke softly. He rocked her in his arms and she slowly stopped crying and opened her eyes. Din removed a glove and ever so gently brushed away the tears on her little cheeks. "What's wrong, littl'un? You've got your buir worried sick," he said. Mandi just looked at him curiously, as if nothing had ever been wrong. One of her little arms reached up towards his face and Din intercepted her hand with a finger. She wrapped her entire hand around his one digit and he let her pull his finger into her mouth and watched her begin sucking on it. "Let's see if you'll eat something, hmm," he said.

Din walked back into the other room to get her a bottle. He found his child sitting in the middle of the table surrounded by a small number of hand-sewn toys that Y/N had given him to keep him occupied while she made dinner. "Does she have a bottle somewhere?" He asked. The woman pointed at the small cooling storage unit a few feet away and he opened it, grabbing a bottle out. He sat at the table, cradling Mandi comfortably with one arm. He used the same technique he had used with her before, gently rubbing and nudging the bottle against her lips until she opened her mouth. As soon as she had the bottle in her mouth she began drinking greedily. “Whoa, slow down there,” he murmured.

Unbeknownst to him, Y/N had been watching him interact with Mandi and scribbled something on a piece of flimsi. She set it on the table next to him and smiled when he looked up at her, patting his green son’s head before returning to finish their supper. Din glanced at the note she left for him. ‘It’s like she thinks you’re her father.’ Was written in neat but quick handwriting, he looked up and saw her putting things on a few separate plates with her back to him. He thought for a second and remembered the time Mandi saw him without his helmet not long after she was born and how he talked to her. He wasn’t 100% sure how babies worked but it could have been that Mandi saw him, the second person she had ever seen, and her little brain assumed he was her father. Plus, if her mother didn’t speak, his voice was the only one she knew. It would explain why she always calmed down when he talked to her. Y/N set two plates on the table, one in front of her and the other in front of the kid.

I made one for you, it’s keeping warm so you can eat it later when you’re comfortable.

Din nodded and thanked her, continuing to feed the little girl until she had her fill. Din returned her to her mother and then made sure his own kiddo wasn’t eating too fast. He watched her rock her baby and she signed a ‘thank you’ to him.

Are you able to stay here for the night? She asked with her hands. Din didn’t see any reason why he couldn’t, plus it would give him some time to think of a way to ask her if she would like to work for him.

"That would be nice."

~~~~

Din had found yet another thing that Y/N was skilled in: cooking. After they chatted for a while, she had put Mandi to sleep and dragged a mattress into the main room for him. In the safety of the darkness, well past midnight, Din was able to remove his helmet and eat the meal she'd left warm for him. It was the best food he'd had in months. In the morning, she let him have the refresher to himself for a while after she made breakfast.

He entered the main room to find her settling Mandi into a wrap across her chest. "Thank you for breakfast, and dinner last night," he said, "the food was amazing." She smiled and nodded towards him.

Would you like to come to the market with me? I could use the help.

"Sure," he agreed. He gathered his little womp rat into his bag and walked with her to the market in the center of town. He offered to carry her groceries and acted as a translator between her and the merchants. He noticed that she was buying very little and the amount of credits she had was low. “What happened to your credits? Housing on Nexlar that expensive?” She shook her head sadly.

I wasn’t here more than an hour and some thief swiped almost half my credits. That’s why I couldn’t afford better lodging.

Din sighed, making a note to pay for whatever she bought next. “Uh, listen I had been wanting to ask you a question..” he started. She nodded for him to continue. “Would you like to become part of my crew? It’s just me and the kid right now and I could use someone with your vast array of skills.” She looked at the ground as she walked, contemplating. “I can pay you,” he added.

I don’t know, I left Tatooine to escape the ruckus and adventure. But maker knows I could use the credits. She signed.

He let her think more as they walked until she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. Din looked over at her and saw her staring in front of her where a line of New Republic credits were floating in the air in front of her. They both followed the line with their eyes back to its owner, an oblivious man standing at a meat cart. The pair looked around and saw that people’s credits were levitating in the air from their purses and pouches and steadily floating towards them. Din once again, on reflex, looked down at the kid in the bag near his hip, but it didn’t appear to be him. It was easy to tell when his kid used his powers, he usually used his hands and showed extreme concentration on his face, right now he looked unaffected and curious.

They both looked down at Mandi, strung safely across her mother’s chest with her little arms in the air and a small furrow in her brow. It wasn’t possible that she heard what her mother had said about needing credits, was it? The spectacle was drawing the attention of others, most stood dumbfounded as their currency floated through the air towards a woman and a Mandalorian with two children. Y/N held a concerned look on her face as she placed her hands on Mandi and held her impossibly closer to her body.

“Hey!”

Both Y/N and Din looked over to see a man staring at them angrily. “You the one doing this?” He shouted at the woman. Y/N looked between him and Mandi, shaking her head quickly. The man scoffed and pulled his blaster out of its holster. “Drop the credits,” he threatened. Y/N started signing quickly and Din spoke. “She doesn’t know how, it’s not her,” he said. The man stepped a few feet closer and several more men closed in around them, all with drawn blasters. They were outnumbered, Din knew how these things went and he slowly took her hand in his. “Alright then,” the ringleader said, “guess we’ll just have to kill her to get her to stop.” He raised his blaster and Din gripped Y/N’s hand tight.

“Run!”

He pulled her with him as they took off down an alley, blaster bolts firing behind them. “We have to get to the Crest, if we go to your house they’ll just find you,” Din said as he led her through close quartered buildings. They could hear the thugs chasing them, still firing their blasters. They came around a corner and skidded to a stop by a thug who had cut them off. Din drew his blaster and fired, killing him in seconds. Y/N grabbed Din’s wrist and pulled him in another direction.

They weaved through alleyways, trying to avoid the main roads while running back to the Crest. Din would fire behind them if they got close. He had no idea how many people were chasing them but he’d killed at least three. Din’s HUD picked up the Crest’s distance. They broke away from the town and headed towards the trees. The ship was in sight, Din pressed a few buttons on his vambrace and the engines started up. His head was tilted forwards and a ringing sound followed, he stopped, turned, and shot the pursuer that shot at his head. Y/N kept running towards the Crest, who’s ramp had just lowered.

Din suddenly felt something wrap around his neck. He dropped his blaster and grabbed at the cord but it was activated and electricity flowed through his body, dropping him to the ground on his back. Y/N looked back and saw what was happening. One of the thugs had an electric whip around Mando’s neck and he was squirming on the ground. She ran back and grabbed his blaster off the ground and fired at their aggressor. The man dropped dead, the whip turning off. Bullseye. She dropped the blaster and grabbed his vibroblade from his boot, cutting the cord, unwrapping it from his neck.

Din got to his feet and holstered his blaster and his blade before running into the Crest with his new companion. Din closed the ramp and Y/N climbed the ladder into the cockpit. More thugs came running towards the ship and Y/N pressed a button to activate the shields. Din joined her in the cockpit just as she pulled a lever back and lifted the steering handles, taking the Crest into the air. The thugs fired at the ship but their bullets harmlessly bounced off the shields. She guided his ship out of the atmosphere and into empty space. Finally safe, she slumped into the seat and sighed. “Welcome aboard,” he said, smiling behind his helmet. She chuckled and checked on Mandi, who was alright, as was Din’s little one. He reached over and punched their next destination into the nav computer. “Ever been to Navarro?”

~~~~

One of the few thugs that survived and had witnessed everything, made his way into a nearby cantina. He walked to the back and nodded to the Rodian guarding a secret door. The Rodian moved aside, letting the man enter the room. He walked to a terminal in the middle of the dark room and turned it on. He only had to wait for a few minutes until the glowing blue hologram of an Imperial officer showed up. “Anything to report?” The officer asked.

“Yes, I have a message for Moff Gideon,” the man growled.

“Tell him there’s another child.”

#star wars #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #frozen miracles sequel

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crystalrose555 · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t make me slap you pt 28

“Hey...”

“Hey wake up!”

“Maybe we shouldn’t wake her up.”

Marley groaned harshly as she opened her eyes to see a group of small black grinning demons surrounding her. Looking around was enough to make her head swirl as she gripped the arms of the chair to stabilize herself.

“Hey, ya shouldn’t get up. Teleporting took a lot out of ya and ya ended up passing out.”

“So, I’m not home then?”

“Naw, you’re in Demon Lord’s Castle. Lord Diavolo brought you here and told us to look after you. So, do you need anything?”

“Food?”

“Something to drink?”

“A pillow maybe?”

The little demons continued to chatter at the exhausted Marley and all it did was remind her of the people she left behind. She sat up in the lavish armchair and raised her hands to calm down the tiny devils.

“Guys, I don’t need anything.”

“Makes sense since you’re dying, right?”

Marley blinked as one of the Little Ds struck their blunt companion.

“You’re so rude! You can’t just talk to her like that, what’s wrong with you?”

“What? She clearly looks like she’s just hanging in there.”

Back and forth the little Ds argued and bickered in front of the tired Marley who sat and cradled her dying pelt. She looked down and felt the hard bristles that used to be her soft fur. She held it tenderly and lifted it to her face to gently caress it. Flakes of ash fluttered onto her lap as she rubbed into the smokey sealskin. The little Ds ceased their bickering as the smell of ash filled the air. They turned to see her shoulders trembling while hiding her face.

“...Thank you..thank you so much...”

“Look what you did, you made her cry!”

The little Ds tried to calm her as she continued to give thanks and condolences to her loyal companion.

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

An hour or so had passed when a soft knock made itself known in the vast guestroom. A moment later, Diavolo quietly entered and closed the door behind him as the Little Ds floated around the room. Over by the window stood Marley who stared at the moon and refused to acknowledge the demon prince. Taking the initiative, Diavolo circled around to stay by her side. They stood silently as Diavolo took her in with his golden eyes. Her skin was darkened and chapped with black ashes that stained her hands and clothing as she held her pelt close. Diavolo smiled softly as he tried to offer her kind words only to be cut off by the woman who was lost in the distance.

“So, Lilith didn’t die that day...”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“She lived and had children. Eventually that led up to me.”

“Yes...”

“Then tell me, why did you and Lucifer lie to them?”

“It was for their own-”

“Don’t you dare. Do not come to me and tell me that’s the truth.”

“...”

“For all those years, you denied them closure, and for what? What possible reason do you have to deny them?”

“Lucifer requested that I don’t share that information with his brothers.”

“Then congratulations, you’re either a shit friend or a shit ruler.”

The room grew quiet as the little Ds lost their smile upon hearing the rough insult against their prince’s character. Diavolo, on the other hand, was frozen with wide eyes since no one dared to refer to him in such a vulgar manner. The little Ds backed away to the furthest corner of the room, unsure if their lord was frozen in shock or growing fury. Regardless, Marley continued her verbal assault.

“If you really wanted to be his friend, you would have told him to grieve with his brothers properly. And if you were his ruler, then you would have ordered him to do so. How dare you assume there would be no consequences for something like that.”

“...”

“I guess it doesn’t matter if you get what you want in the end.”

Diavolo closed his eyes and chuckled darkly before looking down at the exhausted Marley with glowing eyes.

“...Are you saying that it’s wrong of me to follow my ambition? Even if it’s uniting the three realms in harmony? Am I wrong-”

Diavolo, unfortunately, didn’t finish his statement as the room was filled with a loud crack echoing in the room. Time slowed down as the Little Ds froze in place and nearly died upon seeing the ruler of Devildom being slapped across the face by the woman they barely know. Marley stumbled as she tried to maintain her balance and look at the stunned prince. Despite her staggering, she was able to stand up straight and look at Diavolo who remained still.

“Don’t you dare think I’m just going to stand here and let you laugh at me!”

“...”

“Are you mad? Are you upset? Well, too bad, because that’s not even a drop in the bucket compared to how I feel. You’re not the one who loses sleep. You’re not the one left crying at night or filling the void she left. You’re not the one dying for your ambition!”

Diavolo’s eyes widened upon hearing her true feelings and held his tongue in his mouth.

“But I’m going to put that aside for a moment to put things into perspective for you. If Lucifer was willing to rebel against God for his sister, what makes you think he won’t do it again for his brothers?”

“...”

“He hid Belphie away from you so he wouldn’t have to make that choice but he did and he chose his brother. If you take anything from this, is that you’ve failed at your precious dream.”

“...I’ve...failed?” He questioned without looking at her.

“Yes, you’ve failed. You’ve failed to allow the brothers to move on. You’ve failed to acknowledge what they sacrificed by making them put you and your wishes first. If you’ve bothered to even think about their feelings before yours, Lucifer wouldn’t have locked Belphie away and Belphie wouldn’t have gone insane in the attic. One of your lords, driven crazy in an attic because of your choice.”

“...So what would you have me do?”

Diavolo turned his gaze back to Marley only to see her face had softened to a weak and tired smile. Her fiery eyes had dulled into watery pools waiting to tear up.

“You go to them and you apologize. You let them know you made a mistake by allowing Lucifer to keep Lilith’s secret, that you thought you were doing what was best and you were wrong. You apologize to Lucifer for making him think he had to do it alone and had to keep secrets from you. Allow them to express their feelings and allow it to get as messy as it needs to be. And when all the dust settles..”

“...”

“...You clean up and try again, with everyone on the right foot in the right direction. I won’t promise that it would be easy but at least it will be done more carefully and you can stand proudly once it’s finished..”

Diavolo stared at Marley who turned her attention to the moon that shimmered into the room. She sighed quietly as light in her eyes faded to a dull, murky color. Diavolo called to her only for her to stare vaguely at the celestial body. It wasn’t until he placed his hand upon her shoulder that she recoiled away from him in pain. He wanted to apologize but he instead steeled himself for a truly difficult question.

“If I’m being held accountable for my actions then I should hold Belphie to his, right?” He asked coldly.

Marley shook her head with a pitied smirk on her face.

“There’s no point in punishing him now. It would only cause more pain and suffering. If he’s the demon that the others told me about, learning the truth would be bad enough.”

“Even though you’re dying because of him?”

“I didn’t tell any of them that I was, I rather leave them some hope that we’ll meet again. I would prefer to quietly pass on than be surrounded by tears.”

Diavolo laughed quietly while causing Marley to glare at him. Sensing this, he gave her a genuinely kind smile.

“Weren’t you just talking about grieving properly and moving on?”

Marley gave him a tired snort.

“Shut up, you don’t get to pull that card. I’m the one dying so I get a pass.”

Diavolo shook his head.

“You talk about your death so easily.”

“Life at sea is dangerous so I always expect death in one form or another. I just hoped it would have been quick.” She answered while holding her blackened pelt close.

“...”

“Diavolo, can you do me a favor? I wanted Levi to do it but I couldn’t bring myself to ask him.”

“...Of course.”

“...When I’m gone, my pelt will wither away and leave the treasure I found before I came to Devildom. Will you please take it home for me? I don’t think I have the strength to take it there myself.”

Diavolo crossed his arms and thought for a moment before giving his answer. Marley then offered her pelt with shaky hands that trembled not from fear of the unknown but from exhaustion. Sensing this, Diavolo carefully cradled her hands in his before taking away her most precious possession. She swayed back and forth as her attention was drawn to the dark sky once again, her eyes glazing over.

“I expected to die looking at my own moon but the one here is really beautiful.”

“...Yes, it is.” Diavolo answered as he held her pelt close, staining his coat with ash.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo #obey me oc #mochi #mochi story fanfic #om #diavolo #obey me levi #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me asmo #obey me satan #obey me beel #obey me belphie

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imaginesfora3 · 5 years ago

Text

It’s About the DRAMA [Sumeragi Tenma] [Pt. 2]

(Second NSFW part to the Tenma commission I did! Please enjoy~)

Even after two entire years Tenma found his heart still beat for you.

When he was around you he could hardly think straight but he was so addicted to the feelings you gave him, the true happiness he felt at seeing you smile or hearing you laugh, he couldn’t pull away. He’s plagued at night by thoughts of you, of thoughts of what could be if he could strike up the courage to ask you on a real date and not just to ‘hang out’. He always went in with the intentions of revealing his feelings, like when he’d invited you out to karaoke that one night and sang a love song that felt reminiscent of this particular situation with you, but everyone and their mother seemed to get in the way. The meaning of the song completely flew over your head and you’d complimented his singing voice, teasing about the next production being a musical starring him.

A few days after the karaoke catastrophe he’d been trying to think of a good way to confess his feelings but could think of nothing that didn’t make him feel pathetic, knowing feeling like this was natural but still hating how soft it made him look. Did women even like men who got this emotional and romantic when it came to him? His naturally abrasive self had been far too used to people fawning over him no matter how he acted but if it was his fame they fell for and not him or his actions, then it wasn’t real love, was it? Just infatuation. It’s the reason why he’d kept his distance in the dating world for so long despite all the interest in him as young handsome actor.

Or at least one of the reasons.

While he was stuck in his thoughts about his sad dating life Banri had entered the kitchen, starting a welcome conversation about clothing styles that served as a distraction for about two minutes. Said distraction quickly fizzled out when you entered the room looking more stunning than Tenma thinks he’d ever seen you, the dress you’re wearing hugging every curve of your body and leaving only the best bits to his imagination. Banri was quietly appreciating you too but was far less obvious about it than Tenma, glancing over at his friend and smirking as Tenma’s eyes drifted down to your ass the moment you’d turned around.

“Keep it together, man.” Banri elbowed him which caused Tenma’s head to snap back up, just in time for you to turn around and face them. “Where are you going lookin’ like that?”

“Out with friends. That okay, dad?” You stuck your tongue out at Banri who fired off some comment about how it was hard to believe you had a life outside the company but Tenma wasn’t listening, not really. Now his thoughts were just plagued with the thoughts of wining and dining you, but the actions that took place after said wining and dining had finished for the night. It’s taking all the will power he had to keep his jaw from hitting the ground when you swung around once more, grabbing a jacket before waving to the two men in the kitchen and being on your way. He wanted desperately to call out your name, to bring you back so he could soak in your beauty for just another second, but you were gone before he’d found his voice again.

“The hell was that about?” Banri was looking at him incredulously, “You stared so hard your eyes could’ve fallen out of your head. You got it that bad for her?”

“…Huh?” Tenma wasn’t listening again, now he was desperately fighting a losing battle against his dick. “Yeah, whatever.”

Banri doesn’t say anything else but it’s clear he’d picked up on all the signals Tenma had been sending your way, not really knowing how to help his friend out if he couldn’t even admit the feelings were there. He simply stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked away, leaving Tenma standing at the counter for a few more minutes, not even realizing he’s alone. When Tenma finally noticed Banri was gone he didn’t feel so self-conscious about the bulge in his pants, making a mad dash for his room and hoping he didn’t run into any other troupe member on the way there. It was the weekend so most were either holed up in their room getting much needed rest or out and about having fun until it was time to be back to business.

Tenma had never been more grateful that Yuki was a shopaholic as he clambered into his bed, leaving the room empty so that Tenma could handle his business. He hardly found the energy to masturbate but when he did he knew how to be quick about it, something very necessary for living in this dorm with a roommate who was almost always there.

Tenma glanced nervously at the door, worried about someone busting it down though there’d be no reason to do so; he could’ve locked it if he really wanted to but he didn’t feel like answering Yuki’s questions should the younger boy come home and not be able to get into his own room. Tenma’s hands slid down his pants and he rubbed his dick through his underwear, unzipping his jeans to give himself more room to work with and turning away from the door, just in case the whole ‘busting in’ scenario happened. It’s not comfortable enough so he decided on laying on his back, pants fully pulled down as his hand strokes up and down his length. He’s thinking about you, your ass, your mouth, your voice, everything that had to do with you was so incredibly attractive that he knew he’d come sooner rather than later as long as he kept up the pace. Your name slipped from his mouth, an accident, one that he didn’t think would cost him as dearly as it did.

“Tenma…?” The door creaked open but he didn’t process it quick enough, continuing to pump his length, finger stroking over the sensitive head when he realized your voice was no longer just in his head. His head whipped towards the door and he meets your eyes, his heart dropping down to the underworld as he realized you were staring at- “Fuck! I’m sorry!”

You hadn’t realized Yuki wasn’t in. Part of your jacket was ripped and you had simply wanted to come see if he could fix it up for you, having a replacement if need be, but instead you’d walked in on… An oddly attractive and incredibly embarrassing scene. You felt guilt seep into your bones at the horrified expression on Tenma’s face, watching as he rolled onto his side to fix himself quickly while trying to sputter out excuses that just wouldn’t form into full sentences; you couldn’t really blame him, this was probably in his top ten most mortifying moments now. You should’ve knocked, you know you should’ve, but now you knew that the carpet matched the drapes and that his dick was rather sizeable and-

You shouldn’t be thinking these things about him.

But hadn’t he been calling out your name?

Had he been thinking those things about you?

It wasn’t as though there were signs that Tenma might feel some type of way towards you. You’d seen him gaping at you in the kitchen and felt rather proud at his reaction, even turning around again to give him a view of all that you had; you hadn’t even realized you were showing off for him until you’d walked outside and the cool night air brought you back to reality. You weren’t in some sleazy romance novel, Tenma deserved romance and flirting and the whole shebang, not just sexual tension. Azuma had been the first one to bluntly point out that Tenma was clearly in love with you, head over heels, no doubt about it, and since Azuma seemed to be the expert in these you had truly wanted to believe him. You didn’t at first but the longer this tension between you and Tenma continued to grow… After this incident, after definitely hearing your name come from his mouth as he was certainly masturbating… Maybe you had to stop ignoring it.

Maybe you just had to deal with the fact Tenma loved you.

But how?

You don’t find an answer for another year.

Tenma’s career was in full swing meaning you rarely saw him around anymore, something that both broke your heart and brought some type of relief. As much as you wanted to confront him on his feelings you still hardly understood your own, nervous about the concept of dating someone younger than you, worried that you hadn’t interpreted the signs correctly. You had no doubt Tenma would be a good boyfriend but would you be good enough for him? It wasn’t to say you weren’t a good, loving person but would you be enough for Tenma? Popular, famous Tenma who practically had women throwing themselves at him left and right, who worked with gorgeous movie stars and was messaged by famous models daily?

He’d been gone about six months at this point but Summer Troupe’s annual play was coming around and he was ready to come home, to see his friends and live in the dorm once again. He’d contacted you and asked for you to pick him up, almost not bothering to send the text as he was still embarrassed by the entire masturbation situation. He didn’t think the moment would weigh so heavily on him but unless he was completely delusional, he was certain you’d stared at his dick until he��d turned around, not even bothering to look away (the same exact thing he’d done to your ass about ten minutes before). Did it mean something or was it just the shock? There was no easy way to get an answer and he hated that the most about this, about all of this romance crap.

The wind is knocked out of you when you see Tenma in the airport, walking towards you and Sakuya (one of the only free members who happily wanted to accompany you to get his fellow troupe leader) with his sunglasses and hat pulled down over his face. He somehow managed to keep growing even over such a short period of time, looking taller, more mature, more put-together… You realized you’re staring at him too long after he’s greeted you without saying anything in return and you forced a smile to your face.

“H-Hey there, hope that time with all the big wigs can help our play shine!”

“You know I always do my best.” His response was awkward but so was your previous statement so you can’t blame him. The walk back to the car is thankfully silent as it’s clear Tenma is quite exhausted and you wondered if he’d just fall asleep on the ride back, leaving even less room for you to make a fool of yourself.

“You really do seem more mature, Tenma,” You offered up another observation as he packed his bags into the back of the car. As much as you didn’t want to make yourself look stupid you had missed him dearly, those weekly phone calls not being enough to satisfy you. You used to talk to him every day, at least getting to see his face even if he was busy, but being overseas and filming left him too busy to keep that same routine. You understood why and you didn’t blame him but now that he was finally in front of you, you couldn’t just pass up the opportunity to talk or tease him like you used to.

“Ah, thanks…” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, looking away from you, “You… don’t feel like you’ve changed at all.”

“What does that mean?”

“I-It’s not a bad thing.”

‘It’s like coming home,’ Tenma thought with a smile, ‘I am coming home, I guess…’

“You guys must’ve really missed each other, huh?” Sakuya laughed from the back seat as you and Tenma entered the car. “We all missed you but not as much as she did! Whenever we were having trouble figuring out a scene, she’d always say ‘I wish Tenma was here’ or something like that!”

Sakuya, as innocent as he was, was absolutely killing you right now.

“Do you have any stories about being on set? Ooh, what about the places you visited while you were away?” Sakuya interrupted the growing tension, leaning forward into the front seat and looking at Tenma curiously. He might’ve just put you out there but he’d saved you just as quick, successfully distracting Tenma who seemed more than happy to tell Sakuya of all the things he experienced while he was away. You listened in while you drove, enjoying both the sound of his voice and the content of his stories, pleased even more to hear that none of his time was spent with other women.

The dorm was buzzing with energy when Tenma finally arrived.

“Summon the troops up front Muku, a celebrity has finally arrived!”

Tenma smiled weakly at your attempt at humor but there was still come clear tension left over, something he was quick to blame on jet lag. Why did seeing you again in person leave him breathless? Why did his heart ache even though you were right there in front of him, arm’s length away? The distance had done nothing to placate his feelings, perhaps making it even worse, and he finds himself selfishly wishing he could just have you all to himself for a night.

He’d missed everyone at Mankai without a doubt but you were a special case.

Tenma is bombarded with questions, he’s given gifts and poems and all sorts of things that the others had made for him while he was gone or to welcome him home. He’d never felt more loved in his life and as he accepted these gifts, cheeks red from embarrassment while he also made sure to thank each person who gave an offering, he noticed your were absent from the general hubbub. While Kazunari is rambling on about something or other Tenma scanned the area, eyes landing on the kitchen once he noticed it was where you were. You were casually talking with Omi, something that wasn’t exactly unusual, but today he was just off. Seeing you with Omi made him feel this bitter jealousy towards him, this irritation welling up until it clearly showed on his face.

“You okay?” Kazunari asked, head tilted in confusion.

“He’s probably tired from the trip,” Azuma offered up helpfully, and despite Tenma generally being on edge whenever the silver-haired man was around him, he felt relieved that he didn’t have to come up with an excuse himself. “Why don’t you head to your room to unpack and relax until dinner? One of us will fetch you when everything’s done I’m sure.”

Was being alone with his thoughts really what he needed right now?

Tenma discovered that it was in fact not what he needed or what he wanted, unable to get the image of Omi’s hand on your arm out of his head; it was as if he was being mocked, as if the universe was telling him ‘you missed your chance, buddy’. He wondered how close the two of you had gotten, wondered if you shared any longing looks or if you’d spent a night together and the relationship took off from there, all the things that he wanted to do with you but never got to because his damn pride always got in his way. The feelings of jealousy started to bubble over until he felt genuinely angry over something he knew he had no right to be upset about, pacing in his room, wanting dinner to just be over with so he could come back and brood some more.

Tenma knew something had to be done about his feelings for you.

Being himself wasn’t working, he kept overthinking his words, stumbling over them, not wanting to look as pathetic as he felt. So what if he pretended to be someone else? When he was in character he didn’t get overwhelmed by feelings, when he was in character he kept it together no matter how beautiful the actress acting opposite to him was, so maybe the solution had been dangling in front of his face this entire time. He doesn’t know when he’ll have the chance to enact this plan but the seed had been planted in his brain and he couldn’t get it out of his head. He had to confess to you even if it killed him, even if you rejected him and never looked at him in the same light again.

He had to let you know how he felt.

Practice began the next day and despite being told he could be a bit late, he insisted on being right on time. He had gotten plenty of rest and he was ready to get back to business, with acting being the one thing that always managed to distract him from his feelings. Being with the others again gave him his energy back and he started off the day ready to conquer, flipping through the script Tsuzuru had just barely managed to get into their hands before passing out on the ground. There were plenty of interesting themes, some redemption, two twin flames reuniting, the dialogue really speaking to Tenma’s spark for both drama and comedy. He’s assigned the lead role even as he protested it should go to someone like Misumi or Kazunari who fit the lead character far more but the group was just as stubborn as he was and with a sigh, he accepted that things were getting right back to business as usual.

Tenma was totally in his element, he was more than competent enough to take on the lead role in a stage play, so then why was he constantly obliterating his lines? He stuttered in the first read through, he forget to respond a few times (he was too busy looking at you as you read over the script, looking extra cute as you concentrated), he was thinking about his own confession monologue he’d started to plot out, he was just entirely distracted. And he couldn’t just push it down like he normally did, it kept rising to the top of his thoughts and it was truly beginning to screw him over. He can see the others are getting agitated but are unwilling to call him out, likely just blaming it on him not being used to being around them again, but it was so much more than that. With a frustrated wave of his hand Tenma dismissed himself from the practice.

“W-Where are you going?”

“I’m going to practice alone. I’ll… be back.” Tenma left the room in a hurry but just as he predicted you followed, reaching out to grab his arm and stop him from storming away so quickly. It made his heart jump in his chest, made him shiver at how warm your hand felt against his arm and he had to use all the self-control he had left not to pin you to the wall so he could crush his lips against yours.

“What’s wrong, Tenma? You can’t close yourself off like this. You know you need to talk it out!”

“I was supposed to come back with more experience to make this play a success and now all I can do it… Well, nothing! It feels like I’m back at square one again,” Tenma couldn’t help but be at least partially honest with his feelings, making sure to leave out the fact you were driving him absolutely crazy by just being this close to him. The kind, concerned look on your face squeezed his heart like a vice and when you squeezed his arm reassuringly he thought he might die then and there.

“I can see you need a reminder of the fact that I’m here for you and so is the rest of your troupe! You’ve grown up so much but you can’t just keep bearing the weight of the world on your shoulders without letting us in on how you’re feeling. If you know what’s wrong and it’s a problem you can solve then let us know! And even if we can’t solve it just tell us what it is! It can’t be that bad, can it?”

“You have no idea,” Tenma sighed, trying to subtly move his arm out of your grip. “…Can we go down to the theatre?”

“You missed it that much?” You tried to joke but Tenma was looking a little too serious for you to not feel nervous, simply nodding his head and beginning to walk without your confirmation. You’re worried about what might come next but you’d rather snuff the problem out sooner rather than later; you dipped your head back into the practice room to let the others know they could continue to read their lines and that you’d be back with Tenma soon, not noticing the looks they all exchanged.

Tenma is standing center stage when you find him, pacing back and forth, looking just as pensive as he had when you’d left him. He doesn’t even notice you’re there leaving you a moment to admire his handsome face, a handsome face you’d grown fond of and had missed dearly while he was gone. Seeing him at the airport had made you just want to wrap your arms around him and tell him he was never allowed to leave you like that again, that living daily life without him had just made things feel ‘off’, but you knew you could never say something so selfish. It wasn’t as though the two of you were even dating so what right did you have to even think those things about him? Ever since you’d walked in on him masturbating you’d seen him in an entirely different life, recognizing him not just as a troupe member but as a man, too.

The change left you uncomfortable, with feelings you didn’t know how to handle.

“No one else has ever encouraged me and believed in me like you have,” Tenma began to speak as you walked closer, his intense gaze making it hard to look away from him. “My parents want me to go back to daytime drama full time.”

“You know how I feel about your father so let’s not get into that…” Tenma smiled at the memory, never forgetting what it was like to have you so focused on him and doting over his wounds; it was the first time he ever realized he was in love with you, his strong romantic feelings for you truly coming to a head as you expressed your compassion. He was beginning to realize even more how he felt, that it wasn’t simply admiration but true love that he felt for you. You were someone he would be perfectly comfortable calling his soulmate, someone he could easily spend the rest of his life with and never regret it not matter how tough things got. If he was going to put it all on the table and finally address the elephant in the room, now was the time to do it, now when he was feeling so reassured that he’d be able to get his feelings across to you.

You joined him on stage, looking out at the empty seats before glancing over at him again as he began to talk.

“Can I act this thing out for you that I’ve been thinking about for a while?”

“Sure. Are you gonna be our new scriptwriter, too?” You teased.

“Not a chance. Just… give me a sec.” Tenma took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair, his nervous energy infecting you as well.

“Y-You remember I’m not really a great actress, right? You didn’t forget that while you were gone?”

“I didn’t forget anything about you. I didn’t ask you to act so just… listen, alright?”

Another deep breath and you saw a switch flip in him, his face and shoulders growing more relaxed as he looked at you.

“The day that we met we fought like cats and dogs. I never thought the two of us would ever get along, never thought that I could ever see the positives or care about a person who only seemed to kick me when I was down. But I realized it was all about perspective. You weren’t kicking me but you were offering your hand, willing to help me figure out what I really needed to. I’ve dated other girls but none of them have ever held a candle to you. I started to realize they were never good enough because they were never you.”

That’s your name that he’s saying and it’s your hands he’s now holding, looking deep into your eyes with a penetrating gaze that left you feeling weak in the knees. You had suspected something was up at first but there was no way for you to refute it now, Tenma was without a doubt confessing feelings that you never knew he had. You have to applaud the bravery but the butterflies in your stomach are making you feel restless, the close proximity with the orange-haired man not helping you untangle the many thoughts you were having. How did you feel about Tenma? He’d managed to so eloquently sum up your relationship and how deeply he felt for you and yet you were still stumbling around in your own head trying to find the proper way to respond.

There’s one moment over these last few months that really stood out to you, the one night you’d been holed up with a few other Mankai members watching an interview Tenma was involved with. You’d seen that romance was one of the topic of discussions and suddenly found yourself even more interested, waiting with bated breath as the question of Tenma’s relationship status is questioned; he scoffed, blushed, and brushed off the question as being an unimportant one, completely irrelevant to the movie he was about to star in. But the interviewer was rather insistent on getting an answer, pressuring poor Tenma into at least giving him a bread crumb.

“I like someone but her and I aren’t together.”

You released a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, receiving a knowing look from Banri who didn’t offer up anything snarky at the moment, turning back to watch the rest of the interview while you tried to calm your racing heart. That didn’t mean anything, right? He could like the actress he was on the job with, or any other number of women he interacted with on the daily, it didn’t mean he was talking about you but… Part of you hoped it was about you. You’d seen the way he looked at you before, you’d heard about the things he did just to have an excuse to talk to you but you’d always just amounted it to a schoolboy crush. But the Tenma standing before you now wasn’t just some kid, he was a hardworking adult who had matured over the years and who was confessing that his heart belonged to you.

You’re not an actor, you can’t come up with some dramatic dialogue with perfect metaphors for the love you felt for Tenma, but you were someone who shared his feelings and wanted to let him know that. Tenma went to pull away from you but before his hands can escape your grip you squeezed them, taking a step forward into his personal space, something you had always been careful about not doing before. You looked into his eyes, searching for something, hoping that none of this would turn out to just actually be some fake scene he wanted to act out but with the fondness he’s looking at you with now you knew his feelings had to be true. Or he had to be an even more talented actor than you’d originally thought but you were hoping you weren’t about to make a fool of yourself.

Leaning forward your lips brushed against his and Tenma followed through with your movement, quickly releasing your hands to hold either side of your face. He didn’t want you to pull away until he had his feel, his heart beating so loudly he’s sure you can hear it. This is a moment he’d dreamed of for years and you tasted so much sweeter than he ever expected, your lips ridiculously soft and potentially addicting. He could get lost in the feeling of holding you against him, his lungs beginning to burn from how long it’d been since he’d last took a breath, but he couldn’t find it in him to pull away from you. You seemed to feel the same as you made no move to dismiss him, kissing him back with just as much fervor, your hands grabbing onto his shirt and digging into the soft material to anchor him to you.

When you pulled away you were glad to see the cool guy façade he’d had up during his confession had completely disappeared, a dark blush adorned his face and left him looking even cuter than usual. You’re sure your face matches his in more ways than one but what does it matter now that you had him?

“I want… Please, be my girlfriend?” He’s looking away from you, unable to meet your eyes as though that was the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done in front of you. You could bring up the masturbation incident but you figured that’d just ruin the mood.

“I think I can do that.” You leaned in to press a few more kisses to his lips, Tenma deepening them each time you attempted to pull away. Finally you block his lips with your hand, sending him a playful smile. “The others are waiting for us! We need to get back to business or we’ll just spend all day in here…”

“I could live with that.”

“Well I can’t! Now let’s get back and smooth out this performance, lover boy.”

~*~

This was riskier than you’d ever taken it but you missed your boyfriend dearly.

Tenma let out a soft groan as you grinded your lower body against his, dick already fighting with the costume he was wearing in an attempt to reach your warmth which seemed so close yet so far away. You couldn’t help but laugh as he started to strip you of your clothes, shaking your head as that would be too dangerous a thing to do while you were trying to get busy in his make-up trailer. Instead, you lower the top part of the dress (thankfully, it was stretchy as well as flowy) to show off your bare chest and slid your underwear down your leg, stuffing them into his pocket before you started to fumble with the zipper.

Tenma cursed as you released his dick from its prison, straddling his lap once more and using his shoulders to slowly lower yourself onto him. You both gasped at the same time, Tenma’s head falling back and brushing against the side of the trailer as he squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself not to come quite yet. He knew it had to move quick as he didn’t know when someone would fetch him for his next scene but he had to savor how wonderful it felt to be inside you, how gorgeous you looked bouncing on his cock, your chest in his face as his hands reached around to grip at your ass. All he can think about is how sexy you are, how lucky he is to see you like this, groaning into your chest before he caught one of your nipples in his mouth. Your moan of approval only fuels him further, with Tenma taking control from under you by thrusting up and changing the rhythm entirely. He’s a bit rougher and more aggressive, hips angling to find that sweet spot inside you, tongue still toying with your hardened nipple when it all comes crashing down around him.

A knock on the trailer door caused you to jump off his lap instantly, his dick aching from the loss of contact even if his brain knew he had to scramble to get it together. He pushed you out of view of the door as he fixed himself, taking a quick glance in the mirror and hastily fixing himself before he opened said door. You did your best to stay out sight, fixing yourself just in case the assistant found their way inside and listening to the conversation your boyfriend was having. He was being rather curt but it was clear he was annoyed at being interrupted, and the only thing you get from him is an apologetic look before he leaves the trailer to go back to set.

You waited a few more minutes until things were truly quiet to get moving, sneaking your way from the trailer and seeing yourself out of the studio without further interruption. You wonder how frightened Tenma was about all of that, trying to think of what might hurt his reputation more; discovering that he was dating his director or them assuming you were just some random girl he’d called into his trailer to have sex with. Neither option seemed to be positive but… You and Tenma hadn’t talked much about the secretive nature of your relationship lately. You’d just recently overcome an issue in the relationship but it seemed like a new one was always willing to pop up when you least expected it. You tried to push this to the back of your mind, knowing Tenma wasn’t ashamed of you and that he did truly love you, but you still had to wonder if he ever thought about what would happen if the two of you really did get caught.

Surprisingly, you’re not the one to bring up the topic.

“I was asked if I had a girlfriend today.” Tenma had been showing clear signs of agitation, playing with the food on his plate instead of eating it. You had been patiently waiting for him to open up knowing if you approached the topic without him being the first one to speak he’d just close himself off and you might never know what was on his mind.

“What did you say?”

“I said… I said that I did.” Tenma looked in your eyes, searching for any sign of emotion; you simply looked surprised but that didn’t tell him if it was a happy surprised or a disappointed one.

He had thought making your relationship a secret was just as beneficial for you as it was him, in fact, he had done this entirely for you. Dating a celebrity was an entirely different world, even if you knew the real him and he wouldn’t suddenly change into a different person having the world prying into your romance might not have made things go as smoothly as they had been. The relationship had bumps in the road but things had always managed to work out, but would that have the same outcome if the tabloids and paparazzi were involved? Would you have been as willing to be patient with him? Would you even find any pleasure in being with him if your relationship was in the public eye? These questions scared him. He knew he should’ve been honest about it from the start but in the end, he continued to run from his feelings and even ignore the fact they existed.

But Tenma had to stop running.

He was tired.

He didn’t want to run anymore.

“We’ve almost been together a year now and I want to… I want to be able to post a picture of us. I want to make an annoying post like all those celebrities who think they have better love lives than the rest of us and I want people to be jealous that I have you all to myself. I know I’m the one who wanted us to be secret but I…” Tenma’s fingers tapped nervously against the table, his plate of food fully pushed away as you quietly listened to him. “I don’t want us to be a secret anymore. I hate hiding things from everyone. I hate not being able to hold your hand in public. When we go places together I don’t want to have to be paranoid anymore. You understand how I feel, don’t you?”

“Of course I understand. Don’t you think I want the same things you do?” You stood up from your place across the table, circling around it to stand behind Tenma who’s shoulders were sagging. You could tell this was something he’d thought about more than he let on and if you were being honest, you were proud of him for managing to speak so honestly about his feelings with you. It was hard for him to articulate exactly how he felt much of the time but he’d managed to get his feelings across to you perfectly. “I don’t want to be a secret anymore either, handsome.”

Tenma leaned back into your arms as you hugged him from behind, your chin resting comfortably on his head.

“I’ll post about it then. On our anniversary.”

“I look forward to seeing what the sappy movie star has to say about me!”

You were not at all disappointed to see the post on Instablam the following week, nor were you surprised at the responses it received from some of your Mankai friends. Kazunari posted ‘KNEW IT’ with approximately a million exclamation points, Muku posted a heart emoji, Itaru posted ‘grats’, and you’re sure there are many others buried among the comments from his fans who were both disappointed and excited to see the star they loved in a happy relationship. He had warned you not to get too lost in the comments so you didn’t linger long, re-reading his post over and over again and smiling at the fact he chose to post the very first selfie you’d ever taken together. He might say he’s not good at being romantic but you knew he was a natural when he learned to just listen to what his heart told him.

There might still be many trials and tribulations for the two of you to overcome the longer you were together but you were happy, happier than you’d ever been, and you knew every bit of trouble was worth it.

#Sumeragi Tenma #Tenma Sumeragi #A3 #A3!#Act! Addict! Actors!#A3 x Reader #A3! x Reader #A3 Imagines #A3! Imagines #A3 Scenario #Sumeragi Tenma x Reader #Tenma Sumeragi x Reader #Scenario #Commission #Smut

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the-chick-of-the-air · 5 years ago

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Meet Me In The Woods

Summary: Jude and Cardan’s first meeting as children. One shot. Rated G

Jude was running as quickly as her short legs could carry her through the strange and terrifying fields and wooded areas of this weird place- Efham? What had that mean green monster called it again? She didn’t care, all she knew was she wanted out and back home, back to her mother and father-

But they were no more. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She missed them so much but couldn’t quite wrap her head around the fact that they were gone. She felt that if she ran fast and far enough away, she could run right back into her mother’s arms.

She hadn’t stuck around long enough to listen to the pretty lady with shiny hair tell them about this place. As soon as…Maddy? Maden? What was that monster’s name? As soon as he had ushered them off the strange ponies and into the big house, Jude immediately began searching for a way out. She herd something about princes and princesses and how they shouldn’t eat anything offered to them, but after that she had split.

She would go back for Vivi and Taryn once she found a way out. Then they could go back home and…well, they would figure the rest out later...

Meanwhile, a young, dark haired prince was fleeing from a murder scene.

Cardan was running as fast as he could through the grasslands of his home and into the wooded area near Hollow Hall. Dain had murdered a mortal and was going to blame it on him. His father would never listen. Even if they couldn’t lie, Dain had orchestrated it in such a way that he could say Cardan’s arrow had embedded itself into that human. He wouldn’t even be able to say the words “It wasn’t me!” before his father cast some punishment upon him.

So he ran.

Like a coward.

A relatively safe coward, though.

He wasn’t sure what he would do, where he would go. His mother had vanished and his father must have hated him, his siblings couldn’t care less whether he lived or died. He wasn’t exactly safe anywhere, even as a prince.

He just needed to get somewhere he could stop and think. Somewhere he could calm down enough to garner the courage needed to face his cruel family. Somewhere-

His thought process was brutally cut off as he collided with someone coming from the opposite direction. There was enough force behind the action that they were both sent sprawling to the ground in heaps of breathless fabric and tense muscles.

He would have told off whoever dare run into a prince of Elfhame, but he was panting and crying, and he had just been framed for a murder he didn’t commit and he really didn’t feel like throwing up that cruel front he used to get attention. He just wanted a break.

Jude lay, stunned, on the ground, trying to catch her breath as she gazed up at the star-dotted sky through tear filled eyes. Of course this would happen. Of course someone would interrupt her great escape. As if the fear of trying to run at all wasn’t bad enough in the first place, now she had to fear being dragged back to that horrible house, kicking and screaming. That monster killed her parents, she dreaded to think what he would do to her if she made him mad.

Sniffling brought her attention to the present. She hadn’t even thought to look at who she’d run into- just immediately assumed it was one of the big scary… things she saw around the house, sent to come take her back. But she was surprised when she sat up and was met with the sight of a boy, not much older then her, sitting there with tears streaming down his cheeks.

Jude’s first instinct was to get up and start running again, this boy scared her. He didn’t look like her, or any of the other kids she’d seen when she went to school. He had dark hair and darker eyes. Pointy ears- just like Vivi’s- and…was that a tail? What was this place?

The boy wiped the tears from his pale cheeks with a fist before regarding her with curiosity.

For some reason, Jude felt the need to stay seated. He was crying too. Maybe the fall had hurt him? Or maybe he was running too.

Cardan had finally turned to his assailant, only to find it was no assassin. It was another child. A mortal child. Cardan felt like he was going to be sick.

He noted, as he wiped his tears away that she was also crying. Had she been hurt when they collided? Her hair was shiny and full, and she looked completely aware of her surroundings. Maybe she had been glamoured and woke up somehow? If that was the case, then she needed to get back to her station before she was found and…

There was that sick feeling again.

Jude opened her mouth, intending to say something, anything, to get her out of this strange creature’s sights and back on the run.

She did not expect the first thing out of her mouth to be, “I won’t eat anything.”

The boy looked a bit stunned at this. He titled his head. Obviously that wasn’t what he expected her to say either.

Or maybe he didn’t speak English? Jude tried again.

“I said,” she started, drawing out the words so he would understand, “I. Won’t. Eat. Anything. You. Give. Me.” For some reason that’s what stuck with her out of the pretty lady’s welcome speech.

Cardan rose an eyebrow, why was she speaking like that? “I heard you the first time.”

Jude started. Oh. So he did understand. He sounded funny though, that same strange way of talking that monster and the pretty lady at the house had. It just made Jude want to cry more. Nothing was normal here.

“Who are you?” Cardan asked when she stayed silent.

Jude sniffed and raised her chin, “Jude Duarte.”

Well he had never heard of the name Duarte before. And she obviously wasn’t faerie. If her looks hadn’t already given that away, then her total willingness to give up full name would have.

She shocked him when she asked, “Who are you?” didn’t she know that already?

Cardan scowled, that now familiar instinct to block everyone out with hate flaring up again, “Cardan Greenbriar. Prince of Elfhame.”

Jude shook her head, completely ignoring his tone, “This place is weird.”

Affronted, Cardan barked the first thing that popped up in his head, “You’re weird.”

“No you are!” she shot back with a glare, “Everyone here is. That monster has green skin and that lady had white hair, and you have a tail and pointy ears like my sister.” She took a breath, “Everyone looks so scary.” She gripped her knees and drew them into her chest. She wanted to block out everything that was scaring her right now.

Cardan could agree with that at least. The folk were either beautiful or ugly. No in between. No ordinary, not like the girl in front of him.

Jude.

The name sounded strange, sounded mortal. He supposed he must have sounded strange to her. He sighed and said, “Yes, it can be.” He thought of Balekin and his evil grins. Of Dain and his wicked ways. Of his own father and the inability to love him like he loved his siblings. Even of General Madoc, always wearing a blood-drenched cap to important meetings. For the mortal’s sake, he hoped she never had to meet him.

Jude sniffed again, “Why…why were you crying?”

Cardan stiffened. He couldn’t tell her. It was complicated and bloody, and she looked really scared. No need to further petrify her. He shook his head, “Doesn’t matter. What about you?”

Jude had no qualms about dishing out what had happened, “The green monster killed my mom and dad. Then he took me and my sisters here. I was trying to go back.”

Green monster? Cardan assumed she was talking about one of the Goblin-Folk. Maybe a redcap…there was no way…

Before he could ask if it was Madoc that stole her, someone was calling out from the woods.

“Jude! Where did you go?”

Jude sighed, “That’s Vivi.” She stood and sent him one last glare, “Don’t tell anyone you saw me here.”

And then she was off, running towards whoever Vivi was. Cardan balked, who was this harebrained mortal to tell him what to do?

He growled and stood, noting that his tail was twitching nervously. Thinking of Jude’s mortification with the thing, and his own inability to hide his true emotions when it was out, he pouted and tucked it into his breeches.

He wasn’t sure what else to do. Nothing he did would convince his father that he had never and would never hurt a mortal. The only thing he could do was face his punishment with the grace of a prince. Rolling his small shoulders, he turned back to the palace and disappeared into the night.

~.~

The next day a revel was held as per usual. Cardan was forced to attend, even though he would much rather be up in his room studying or packing. After he had gotten back to the palace, his father had been unhappy with him. Predictably, he hadn’t listened to a word Cardan had to say and simply told him to prepare his things for packing. He would be moving to Hollow Hall with Balekin to be taught how to behave as a proper prince. Though he would still be attending school with the other Gentry.

Now, here he was, being forced to put on a fake smile as if to say “Don’t worry! Everything is fine within the royal family. You can completely trust our judgment on everything!” his only source of comfort- no matter how minor- were his friends. Nicasia was staying above water to uphold peace between the Undersea and Elfhame land. Valerian had no one better to spend his time with and Locke was always in the mood for fun. Despite his usual meddling, he could get Cardan to lighten up every so often.

Cardan stood at the dais with his family whilst guests were introduced. The young prince had little interest in this until General Madoc stepped forward.

With three young girls in tow.

As though they had been trained overnight, the three bowed alongside Madoc before straightening and going back to staring around in wonder.

Cardan locked eyes with Jude Duarte.

Or at least, he thought it was Jude. Next to her was an exact copy, the two girls were completely identical. Twins, Cardan recalled the term. Extremely rare in faerie, but still possible. Still, seeing it up close was strange. He absently wondered if it was like being two halves of one person, or the same person but doubled.

“General.” Eldred regarded Madoc, “I see you have brought company.”

Madoc nodded, “My daughters. Once hidden away in the mortal realm with their mother. Now where they belong.”

“One of them, at least.” The High King stated, eyeing the one that wasn’t a twin. Vivi, Cardan remembered Jude calling her.

She glared back and Cardan mused that he liked her. Liked Jude as well, if he were being honest- which he had no choice in being.

Madoc nodded solemnly, “My wife was… unfaithful. We thought she had died with my unborn child nine years ago in the estate fire. I recently found out she had in fact staged her death and escaped to the mortal realm with her new lover. Justin. The blacksmith if you recall?”

Eldred nodded, following along with the interesting tale. Cardan’s curiosity was piqued as well.

“They had offspring,” He gestured to the twins, “Taryn and Jude. When I found my wife, I… righted matters.”

“You killed them.” Vivi cut in, her tone like acid. Madoc winced.

“I knew the children could not be without a home, so I have taken them in. I plead they take their rightful place among the Gentry, and be granted the right to an education here in the palace alongside the other children.”

The High King nodded, not willing to reject a request from his general so simple as this. “Of course, they will train right alongside my own son, Cardan. The youngest of his siblings and still in school.” He waved the prince forward and Cardan had to comply.

“Say hello.” Eldred ordered, masking it with a light tone. Cardan inwardly cringed. This was meant to disgrace him, putting him on display in front of the General’s bastard offspring. He locked eyes with who he hopped was Jude (He was probably right, he got an icy glare in return) and nodded his head.

“Hello.”

Eldred smiled and removed the hand he had placed on Cardan’s shoulder, “I hope you’ll get along. Now please, enjoy the festivities.”

Madoc nodded and turned from the royal family, ushering the three girls along. Jude sent a glare back at them. She hated it here and no amount of nice words would change that.

Cardan watched them go with a strange feeling setting into his chest, not quite sadness…loneliness, maybe? Perhaps in a different world, they could have all been friends.

As they mixed with the crowd, a single name rang through the young prince’s head to a curious little melody.

Jude.

~.~

Years later, the High King and High Queen lay together under a large tree.

Cardan gently ran his fingers through his wife’s full and shiny hair. Quietly he asked, “Do you know what’s special about this place, love?”

Jude pretended to think about it, placing her fingers to her chin in mock thought, “Hmm…this is where our favorite type of flower grows best?” She giggled as her husband tugged a lock of her hair. After a moment she whispered against his chest, “Of course I remember. It’s where I met my greatest enemy!”

Cardan stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. She was playing dirty now…

Swiftly, Jude kissed the pout away. When she pulled back, she traced the fine point of his ear, saying, “It’s where I first met the love of my life.”

Let me know what you guys think!

Tag list:

(Please let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list!)

@woodsbeyond1 @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @thewickedkings @aneurwin @snusbandxknifewife @jurdanhell @andromeddea @dressedindustandshadows @thesirenwashere

#jurdan #jude x cardan #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #the cruel prince #tfota #first meeting #tcp #twk #tqon #high queen of elfhame #high king of elfhame

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justjessame · 4 years ago

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Glorious, Before the Burden - The Light ~ 11

Hearing Loki ask me, with the word “please” added into the request, not to wander on my own - had my assurance that I wouldn’t slip from my tongue before I could consider another answer. The soft smile it earned me had the same undercurrent of energy pulsing under my skin that had pushed me to need my walk in the gardens to begin with -

“A bath,” I blinked, as his smile grew. Soft laugh to cover my embarrassment, and I shook my head. “I think I’ll have a bath before I turn in, to help me rest.”

Loki looked down, not at me, but at the stone beneath our feet - and then he finally allowed those blue eyes of his to meet mine again. “Does it help?” Confused, I waited for him to clarify his inquiry. “The bath, does it help relax you?”

Ah, that bubble had returned and I’d gotten trapped in it again. “Sometimes,” I thought of last night, how I’d bathed and then read until I’d fallen asleep. “And I read -”

“The book you had on the window seat,” he nodded, thinking back and clearly recalling that it wasn’t there when he’d arrived to wait for me to wake this morning. He wasn’t ready to be deterred from the topic of my bath just yet, however. “What is it you add to your bath to help you relax?”

“Chamomile and lavender,” Loki looked thoughtful, as if he wasn’t entirely certain that would work - “Added to VERY hot water.” The smile that spread across his lips with the additional direction for one of ‘my baths’ was breathtaking. “Are you looking for suggestions?”

“Perhaps,” his eyes were locked on mine and I felt trapped, yet I couldn’t think of where I’d rather be. “A few drops of mint,” my confusion must have been evident because he chuckled. “You’ve been more physically active today than normal, Sigyn. Mint should help with any discomfort.” Oh. “If you don’t have any on hand -”

“I do,” I liked the clean scent of mint - the coolness of it. “Thank you.” It was a broad banner of gratitude, but I did sincerely feel it. “I shouldn’t keep you -”

“You’re not keeping me,” he looked as startled by the admission as I felt by hearing it. “I - I have only my own book waiting.”

“You could always have a bath,” the offer - did I sound as if I were suggesting - the heat of my mortification at the insinuation of my words.

“I could,” Loki was quiet, but my eyes had dropped to the stone beneath our feet, wishing it would swallow me up. One long, cool finger touched my chin and gently tipped my head back up so he could look into my face. “The warmth coming off of your face right now could heat my bath, Sigyn.” He wasn’t mocking me, nor laughing, and for that I was grateful again. “All you’ve done is offer me a suggestion for my evening, alone.” A small nod from me and a small smile returned to his lips. The pad of his thumb brushed my lower lip. “Another time and place -” the air was gone again, everything was still and silent. “And I promise you, that suggestion will be accepted in the vein that caused such a fetching blush to heat your skin.”

I couldn’t move or speak. I wasn’t entirely sure I was breathing or that my heart was still beating. I wanted Loki to - I didn’t know what I wanted him to do. And then, his hand was gone, and he was telling me to have sweet dreams. Turning toward his own rooms and leaving me panting against my doorway - unsure of what just happened.

I added the mint to my bathing ingredients, once I managed to get inside my rooms and collect myself. Hot water, gown gone, hair free and my improvised weaponry set aside, I finally felt the soreness that Loki had alluded to before the bubble had burst between us - again. How could EVERY part of me ache so?

Learning to use daggers was very like dancing, in fact that was how he started my lesson, by comparing the two. And it was an apt description, the push and pull, moving around one another while trying to move under and around, all the while staying a step ahead.

Dancing never hurt this badly though, I thought, soaking up to my chin. The scents of my three fragrant ingredients mingling and mixing with the hot water to relax my muscles and the tension that had crept in with the bubble. At least I’d shown Loki that I was a natural at it - one lesson and I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself - even if he still didn’t want me to put theory into practice.

I woke up and knew, from both the slight chill that ran up my spine AND the scent that was becoming more familiar to me than my own, that I wasn’t alone. Sleep had come easily for me after my bath, I hadn’t even been able to escape into my book. Sitting up, I found him lounging in the window seat, reading.

“Good morning,” his gaze didn’t leave the pages of his book. “I was thinking that today -”

I was taken aback. I assumed that after yesterday, I’d be back with Frigga - at her side and returned to some semblance of my routine. “Today?” He glanced up and his smile was almost blinding. “I thought -”

“That you were finished training because you did so well once?” Loki was back to looking amused by me and I was back to wanting to toss something at his head. “When Mother taught you, did you ONLY do everything she taught you ONCE?” Glaring at him was all I’d grant him, but it did nothing to lessen his good humor. “I thought not. You’ve done well, Sigyn, but that doesn’t mean you won’t continue to hone that skill. Over and over, until I feel you’re -”

“Fine,” I sighed. “Fine.” I slid out of my bed, letting my nightshift, a pale white one slide down the length of me. “Fine.” A gown - no matter which one - undergarments, shoes, and this time I chose to braid and twist my hair in a less heavy manner. I didn’t even flinch as I changed, ignoring Loki entirely as I worked. Faster by far than I had been during the first morning we’d gone through my morning routine. When I looked up, I realized that his book lay forgotten and his eyes were far darker than I’d ever seen them. His jaw was tight again, and I thought that I might have pushed him too far. “Does this meet the harsh standards of my prince and teacher?” Was it my imagination or did his nostrils flare just a tad more at my words?

“It’ll do,” he managed, leaving his book on the seat and standing. “Come along, Lady Sigyn, we have much to do before we can go on your much anticipated journey to Midgard.”

Loki didn’t offer me his arm. Leaving my rooms and heading toward his rooms at a clip that forced me to rush to catch up with him. Obviously I’d pushed too far, but I wasn’t quite ready to apologize - he kept showing up in my rooms unannounced and uninvited after all. While I was asleep and - I was out of breath by the time I caught up to him - his balcony was set for our morning meal.

“Sit,” he commanded and I did, startled to see that he’d gone back to his semi-polite self and was holding my chair for me. Sliding my seat in, his breath against my ear stunned me once more, “first we eat, and then -” his lips felt close enough for them to touch my skin, but as quick as the thought came to me, he was gone - in his own seat and staring across the table at me. “Eat.”

#loki x sigyn #loki #loki series #sigyn #alternate universe #slow burn #eventual smut #bear with me

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lifblogs · 4 years ago

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Whumpay 2021: Day 7 - Mercy

Together We Will Grow

read on ao3 2771 words star wars, rogue one, cassian andor/jyn erso, canon-typical violence, angst

Great. Just great! Of course Imperial troopers had caught up to her. It wasn’t as if she had done that much! Well, she’d drunk an officer under the table and he had ended up dying of alcohol poisoning, she’d stolen an Imperial freighter along with all its weapons, had sold the weapons and the ship, and had had the ship stripped down for parts, and oh, she’d attacked three troopers after they’d tried arresting her for forgery of scandocs. So maybe she had done quite a bit. Really, Kestrel Dawn was out on her luck.

The stormtroopers that were after her had decided using stun prods was more acceptable than just stunning her with a blaster. For one, it was more fun for them, and for two… well, that was about the only reason.

Out of breath, hoping she’d lost her pursuers in the chaos of the market, Kestrel hid behind a stack of crates holding joguns. She brushed her dyed auburn hair out of her face, blowing out heavy breaths. Her heart raced.

“Check down that alley,” she heard one of the stormtroopers say, voice filtered through the helmet.

Kriff. Kriff!

Her stomach decided to grumble at that time (when had her last meal been? Three days ago?), so, thinking it best to multi-task, she grabbed as many joguns as she could and stuffed them into the bag she had over her shoulder.

The clatter of the stormtrooper’s boots against the hard ground was getting closer. He was about to be right on top of her.

Kestrel grabbed one of the purple fruits and threw it in his general direction—not taking time to aim—and then she knocked the crates over.

She ran for it.

“Hey, get back here!”

To her surprise, the stormtrooper fired at her, and she dodged. The blast hit the corner of a building, spraying bits of broken stone into the air. Some of the debris hit her face, slicing through her left cheek, and just above her eye.

Damn it! So the blasters weren’t set to stun. That had to be against some regulation or other, but what would the Empire care?

The blood welled up fast, and began to drip down to her eye. Now blinded in one eye, the blood stinging, she didn’t see the other stormtrooper coming from around the corner at the end of the alley that led back into the market.

She was hit with a stun prod. A choked scream left her at the pain, and she went down, colliding with the hard ground. Her head smacked against hard-packed dirt and sand, leaving stars in her vision. A small part of her worried about the fruit in her pack, and hoped they hadn’t cracked open. She told herself it was because the juice could ruin her datapad, but really, despite the pain she was in, it was difficult to forget her hunger.

Training kicked in as Kestrel heard the other trooper rush to help her current attacker, and she ignored the pain, tried to breathe into it. She unclipped her truncheon from her belt, while hooking her foot behind the trooper’s calf and having him go down.

In moments, she was up on her feet, kicking the stun prod out of his hands, and kicking his helmet off. Seeing the young face beneath did nothing to deter her, and she kicked him into unconsciousness. Showing mercy to these scum wasn’t an option, not when they would surely throw her in prison, and not when they could take her to someone higher up who might discover her true name.

She was shot at again, but a well-aimed throw with the helmet had the second trooper drop his blaster. He lunged at her, trying to grab her, and she whacked him in the solar plexus with the truncheon. Her blows landed quick and hard. He got a few blows in, punching her in the face, leaving her already-cut cheek throbbing relentlessly.

He started calling for backup, revealing her position.

Terrified, Kestrel wrested his stun prod from him. She powered it on, whacking him right in the neck with it. He went down, and for good measure, she held the prod to his throat, right in between the white plastoid of his armor. His body jerked, choked cries eventually going silent. Kestrel didn’t take the time to see if he was alive. She didn’t care.

Deciding to keep the stun prod with her, she clipped it to her belt with her truncheon, blew her auburn hair out of her face, and started heading to the docks. She’d have to steal a ship, but that was nothing new to her.

When she was Jyn Erso she wouldn’t have been able to do any of this, but Jyn Erso had been hurt and abandoned. She’d learned, and for now, she was Kestrel Dawn, and Kestrel wasn’t about to let herself be put in an Imperial prison. If that took showing no mercy, then so be it.

~~~

Joreth Sward was having a really bad day. It had started out fairly normal: he’d been bullied by Admiral Grendreef into getting him some caf (yes, Joreth was his assistant, but that was beneath him), organizing his datapads, and gathering some other employees beneath him for further bullying.

Things had really changed when the oh-so-merciful admiral decided to dock at a civilian station in the Midrim. He was to make a prisoner pick-up. Joreth had been given the list of names just to make sure that when they collected the prisoners, all of them would be there.

Making sure no one had been following him, he made his way to a computer terminal, looped the camera to show the compartment empty as it had been before his arrival, and logged in. He managed to get past the firewalls put in place so lowly assistants like himself couldn’t get at the real information. He searched the Imperial database for the prisoners, wondering why they had been waylaid for such a task. Surely someone else could’ve been sent for prisoner pick-up? It wasn’t strictly in an admiral’s duties.

The list of names was long, but after the fifth name he was sure he had all the information he needed. The prisoners were scientists: engineers, and at least one physicist. Further digging had shown that they had been working in sustainable energy and had been taken prisoner by the Empire to be forced into work on some sort of project called Celestial Power. It seemed straightforward enough, but this task had been marked as high importance.

He’d have to call this in.

Joreth took out his datapad and began to download the information. He’d put a binary lock on his info so his information couldn’t be accessed and drawn back to him. Once hooked in, he waited, slightly nervous, for the information to download. A beep sounded from the terminal to let him know the download was complete, and he removed his datapad.

Once done with that he cleared the log and history. He hadn’t completed all his training with computer terminals, so for now, that would have to do. By the time anyone thought to search for the missing information, he would hopefully be long gone.

Now to make his way to comms.

Datapad in hand, Joreth hurried through the ship, putting on a flustered look as if Admiral Grendreef had just sent him on another wild bantha chase. The Imperials had the brain cells to get out of his way.

The comms center wasn’t empty (it never was), but he’d be using codes anyway, so it shouldn’t be a problem.

Joreth passed on the information to his commander, and then he was given a single order: Terminate the prisoners.

It was that order that ruined his day.

So here Joreth now was, standing before cell block B, lying through his teeth to some stormtrooper guards.

One of them stepped closer to him, not yet buying what he was saying, “These prisoners are to be interred until we reach base DS-1; no one allowed in or out.”

Joreth did his best to look annoyed, even as sweat began to run down his back, and he was sure his hands were shaking. To hide it, he clasped them behind his back.

“I know what your original orders were, but the admiral wants them inspected and logged again, and he’s having a very bad day. Would you like to take it up with him?”

Thank god Admiral Grendreef had a horrible reputation, because the two troopers looked at each other, clearly questioning what to do. No one wanted to be on Grendreef’s bad side. His temper usually ended with someone facing a firing squad.

“Why did he send his assistant to do it?”

Joreth gave them a smile, trying to put them at ease. “I haven’t poisoned his caf yet, so I think he trusts me,” he joked.

“I’d poison his caf,” the one on Joreth’s right muttered, somewhat amused.

“Check yourself, trooper.”

“What? Comms are off.”

Joreth cleared his throat.

“He wants it done now.”

Surprisingly, the one who had joked about poisoning the admiral said, “I don’t know. We should take it up with our superior.”

“And who do you think he answers to?” Joreth asked.

This was taking too long, and he could tell they weren’t buying it.

“Fine, I didn’t want to have to do this,” he said, his accent slipping, his pronunciations of words becoming softer rather than similar to the clipped Coruscanti style.

“Huh?”

Joreth kicked a blaster out of one stormtrooper’s hand, and the other raised his own to fire. It wa easy getting inside his defenses, and he was able to disarm him, along with elbowing him in the gut hard enough to faze him.

Step one was to get the weapons. Step two… disable comms. These bucketheads had the comms right in their helmets, so he didn’t feel at all bad for shooting them at point blank range.

It was over before it had barely started.

He ran a hand over his face, and through his dark hair, trying to settle himself. He had to do this.

And he didn’t have a lot of time. The guards had to check-in each system cycle, which was fifteen minutes. He’d checked his chrono before coming down here, and he checked it again now. He’d wasted about four and a half minutes arguing with them, so he barely had ten minutes left.

What was the Rebellion even thinking asking him to do this? Joreth wasn’t an executioner! But today, he had to be. He had orders.

So he got to work. A vibroblade would be quieter, but then he’d leave a trail of blood. So the blaster would have to do.

One by one he executed the prisoners, pushing all feelings aside, not thinking about what he was doing. No mercy. There couldn’t be any mercy if they were to win against the Empire. Yet why did winning include killing innocent prisoners?

When he was finished with the job he was sweaty, and shaky, and felt like he could barely breathe. Yet he managed to drag the bodies of the stormtroopers into one of the cells after stripping one of his armor. He donned the armor, and then it was time for a check-in. Joreth’s voice sounded fake and dead to his ears as he called in the attack. Hopefully they’d believe it long enough for him to get off this horrid ship. After all, he had left one of the blasters with a prisoner. A prisoner whose blood was soaking the floor, and—

Stop. Stop. Focus.

In the chaos that ensued, Joreth managed to sneak away, and he made his way off the ship. Once he was away from Imperial controlled space, he took off the armor, and sat down with his head in his hands, trying to hold in tears. He was in a stolen shuttle, and had already done everything he could to make sure it couldn’t be tracked. He’d have to dock before reaching his destination on Atollon to refuel and get supplies. He was so tired, exhausted down to his very marrow by what he had done.

But kriff, he still had a job to do. He had to report in. Wiping at his eyes, then staring at his hands, half-expecting for there to be blood on them, he pressed the comms button and dialed in his code to reach base.

It was a relief to drop the accent, to let Joreth Sward slip away, as he said, “Captain Andor to base 1. Checking in.”

“Base 1 to Captain Andor, reading you loud and clear.”

“It’s done,” Cassian said, voice numb even with the rich accent. “Tell General Draven that the prisoners have been terminated.”

“Right away, sir. Base 1 out.”

“I did it for the Rebellion,” Cassian whispered to himself in the quiet of the shuttle, the quiet of space.

No one was there to assure him that it had been the right thing. It must have been, so he locked all his feelings away, and he settled in for the long journey ahead.

~~~

Blast this rain! It was pouring down hard, getting in Cassian’s eyes, obstructing his view of Galen Erso. Bodhi had left, so now he had a job to do.

It was difficult to get a pin down on Galen. There seemed to always be something in the way. Cassian counted his breaths as he waited for the right moment, as he tried to get a precise lock on his target. He’d have to get him in the head. That was the only way to be completely sure.

Galen was talking to a man in white. Did his eyes deceive him, or was that Director Orson Krennic? There had been rumors about him, that he was the one in charge of this weapon that had been tested on Jedha. Cassian’s trigger finger twitched, a deep, dark part of him wanting to take him out too. He wanted to take them all out. For what they were planning to do, for what they had already done to Jedha!

But no, that wasn’t the plan. The plan was to assassinate Galen Erso, stop him before the weapon could be complete.

Yet, as he lay there amongst the dark, wet rocks, soaked through to his skin, Cassian didn’t take the shot.

There was something wrong with his orders. Jyn had spoken of her father, and what he saw now, with him protecting his engineers, he wasn’t the monster the Rebellion thought.

He’s still a danger, a liability.

Still, Cassian couldn’t pull the trigger. He showed mercy, and maybe it was because of Jyn Erso. ~~~

Jyn put up the bare minimum of a fight as Cassian stopped her from going to Krennic. She wanted to kick him, stomp his head in. For killing her father, for Jedha, for everything. But Cassian pulled her away, and she listened to the insistence in his body, the gentle urging that was somehow so comforting in that moment.

“Leave him,” Cassian told her.

And somehow, Jyn did just that. She told herself it was because she was sure Krennic was going to die anyway—something told her that she and Cassian were about to die—but perhaps she’d seen enough death for one day. Perhaps she had done enough terrible things in her life, and she wanted it to end.

As Jyn and Cassian helped each other walk, and they took the lift down from the spire, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. Away from this man that had shown her father mercy, and who had just taught her to do the same thing. She wanted to kiss him, but somehow, when their eyes met, she knew that what they had went far beyond that. In this moment, they were the two closest beings in the galaxy.

“Do you think anybody’s listening?” Cassian asked, desperation in his voice, in the way he clung to her.

“I do,” Jyn answered, voice filled with raw hope. “Someone’s out there.”

It had to all be worth something, and she believed it was. Her last act had been mercy, and giving hope to the Rebellion. To Jyn, that made it all worth it—the pain, the loss, the anger. She and Cassian had learned from each other, built off of each other, let their hope grow within one another.

As the Death Star came out of hyperspace within targeting range of Scarif, and her injuries began to take hold, that was all she could ask for.

#star wars #rogue one #cassian andor/jyn erso #rogue one fanfiction #cassian andor #jyn erso #star wars fanfiction #star wars: rogue one #fanfiction #angst #writing #my writing

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halothenthehorns · 4 years ago

Text

TLTNL- ST. MUNGO'S HOSPITAL FOR MAGICAL MALADIES AND INJURIES

"Harry! Harry, please talk to me." Lily couldn't force her mind to think of anything else but finding that life back in her son, that this attack seem to have stolen from him. "Harry listen to me, whatever you're blaming yourself for, it wasn't you dear, I promise!"

"How can you know?" Harry demanded, sounding so broken, he may as well have the memory of cursing Arthur himself.

"Don't be ridiculous! That's like saying you were the one who used the Cruciatus curse on Peter last year!" It was the first time James had been able to say his old friend's name, and the spasm across his face was enough to prove how badly it had hurt, but it made Harry blink at him in surprise. He had his attention, and he was going to dig in while he had the chance. "You saw it happen, you're still seeing the things Voldemort's doing to people, but that doesn't make you the cause of any of it, certainly not the one doing it!"

Harry wished that was all there was to it, but there was something else, some key reason why it was his fault Arthur had been there, and it all circled back to him, just as all terrible things seemed to do.

"How can you know though?" He all but whispered, though that lasted only moments as the longer he kept going, the nearer to shouting he was getting. "You've said it yourselves, you don't know what happened to me, what's wrong with me! I speak Parseltongue and I shouldn't be able to do that, what if there's something inside of me that-"

He cut himself off with a cry of pain from the sharp stab of his mind that was being paralleled with his mother swearing in agitation and forcing herself to keep her voice so that he could hear her every word.

"You did not do this Harry! I don't even mean physically, you should know that was impossible, you woke up in your bed for crying out loud! I mean that you're a wreck because of something that happened to him, not-"

"Not directly related to you," Sirius inserted, trying in vain to make Harry understand this in some way and falling back on his usual. "Not everything has to do with you you know."

The joke fell flat, Harry could no more believe this then understand why they kept defending him from himself rather than kicking him out the door.

Remus snatched the book away from Sirius with a look of concentration on his face. If they couldn't get through to Harry in one way, then the least they could do was wrap their heads around what exactly had happened, and then the logic would become clear and Harry would have to understand he'd nothing to do with it. "It said the snake was in a long dark corridor with a locked door on the end-"

It caught the other's attention at once, and though it was clearly only a small fragment of their attention where the rest was centered on Harry, it was even the smallest relief to focus on a subject to get through.

"The same one Harry's been dreaming about all summer," James said with a look of dawning apprehension.

"Arthur was there doing something for the Order," Lily murmured.

"He was guarding something," Sirius agreed with finality. "Something Voldemort wants. That weapon, most likely."

"Falling asleep on the job though," James shook his head, "I don't know, that does not sound right of him."

"Maybe something was done to him," Lily struggled to put together a scenario she had the barest knowledge of. "If Voldemort had somehow gone there with Nagini, managed to put Arthur to sleep-"

"There's no way," Remus disagreed, "he'd kill him just for being there."

Harry winced hard at the reminder, but tried to continue for them, "so the snake was somehow there alone, got into where ever this place was, which means someone had to have done something to Mr. Weasley before hand for him to have passed out, and I- the snake tried to sneak past."* He winced terribly at all of them staring hard at him for his slip, but it was still impossible to erase the feeling from himself. He could feel it, like a chunk from his very soul, some part of him had done this.

"Can't imagine why the person would knock him out and then leave only for the snake to come back?" James threw his hands up in exasperation, none of this was coming together.

Harry didn't care about that though, he didn't want to keep talking about this place, it was only making that knot of anxiety roll through him tighter every second. He all but pleaded with them, "please, can't you guys talk about this later, I just want to know he's alive before trying to figure out the why."

They all gave in at once, no one made a move to stop Harry as he feverishly reached for the book for some kind of answer.

Harry was so relieved she was taking him seriously,

Sirius shifted restlessly in place, making an agitated noise that he couldn't say his favorite joke because he wanted to hear more desperately about Arthur living.

he didn't hesitate to get to his feet, McGonagall also beckoning Ron, as always referring to him as Weasley, to come along.

James was uneasy about letting Harry read, so much so he couldn't even sit back down as Harry read feverishly. Just trying to utter the last name of his best friend nearly sent him into a panic attack all over again. He controlled himself clearly by the barest second, his dominant fear winning out of getting his confirmation Arthur would survive, they all needed to know that.

They followed along, ignoring the still stunned faces of their roommates as Harry recognized the way to Dumbledore's office. He didn't want to walk calmly there, but run screaming that Mr. Weasley was bleeding out, and if those fangs,

Harry stuttered hard over that for a moment, and none of them could understand what he'd almost said until he stuttered again over the next line.

trying hard not to think of them as his fangs,

"Harry, please," Lily pleaded. She'd yet to move away from him either, hovering right next to his shoulder, her nails digging into him in her effort to show he wasn't alone in this, he'd never be alone so long as he was here.

Harry took a moment to cover her hand in his, thinking back to all the times in his life where he'd wanted to hug someone but had never gotten himself to do it, considering how little kind physical contact he'd had in his life. It was easier then, to force himself to keep going, while her warmth kept it's pressure.

were poisonous...

They passed Mrs. Norris to no one's concern, and finally made it up to the spiral stone escalator.

James's mind couldn't help but flash to a happier time, of when Sirius had taken him to a Muggle mall and he'd started to feel overwhelmed by how different the place was from anything he knew. He'd ridden on an escalator for an hour just for the experience, Sirius giggling continuously at his side. What he would give to share that moment with Harry if he wasn't in such turmoil right now.

As they came closer to the door they heard many voices inside, as if Dumbledore were hosting a party at this late hour.

Sirius felt a shaky smile where one shouldn't be, but he couldn't help it. He'd been dragged to the Headmaster's office at this time once on the worst night of his life. He'd thought he'd gotten someone killed as well then. He'd heard the same thing and pieced together what the noise was as his brain struggled to think past the idea of what he'd almost done to Moony. The lackless humor was he wouldn't have even wanted to tell Harry this under normal circumstances, now even if he'd had the nerve to, Harry wasn't listening to any of them.

The moment McGonagall knocked though, silence fell in the room before Dumbledore said they could enter. When they did, there was no one but the Headmaster sitting wide awake in his chair. He kept his eyes on her pleasantly confused as McGonagall began to explain Potter had a nightmare.

Even Harry just trying to read this was sending him into another round of stuttering anger and fear all over again. It hadn't been a nightmare as everyone kept trying to say, it had been real! Yet no one in here had questioned that, they'd believed him the second they realized what was going on as true fact and he already knew they'd do anything to help him at that moment. McGonagall would to, and Dumbledore, even if the latter still wouldn't look at him!

Harry at once cut off it wasn't that, and McGonagall gave in and told him to explain.

Remus couldn't help an uneasy smile, finding that the most McGonagall could offer at the time as her show of support, relinquishing that.

Harry began that he'd fallen asleep,

Lily hadn't stopped shivering since her son had fallen asleep, her mind flickering to the last time he had back in Divination and that subsequent mess as well. The fact that her son was no longer safe, even at rest, made her want to weep for his life.

his panic nearly blocking out the rest of his words as well as rising anger now, for Dumbledore was still not looking at him, but his own hands.

James felt such a white hot flash of rage, he knew he would have decked Dumbledore right there. His son was panicking and desperate for someone to understand what was happening, Dumbledore was probably the only one who could right then, and the man couldn't bother to look at him! He didn't care Dumbledore's reason, none was good enough for this act!

Still he said loudly it wasn't really a dream, but he'd seen it happen, a snake had attacked Ron's dad.

Silence rung after this statement before Dumbledore calmly asked how Harry had seen this?

Harry was getting angrier by the moment, trying to understand why that was relevant as he said in his head.

Dumbledore said he'd misunderstood, rephrasing to ask where Harry had witnessed this? Beside the victim, from above?

Remus felt his mouth snap open, the urge to start shouting only just being suppressed by Harry's desperate voice filling the room. This didn't make sense, why was this Dumbledore's priority?!

Harry was momentarily shocked as he realized it was almost as if Dumbledore knew the real answer...but still he said from the snake's point of view.

Still without looking at him, but instead seemingly addressing Ron, he asked if Arthur was seriously injured?

"I'm sure Harry would know if I'd been involved," Sirius said at once, his voice far too strained for his preferred joke to hold anything. In fact, Sirius winced and felt all the worse for doing it as Harry flashed him such a look of panic, he hadn't wanted to put the idea in Harry's head, but those dark green eyes now somehow managed to look more panicky than ever. It looked as if he were trying to stop himself from screaming in fright as he turned his head back to the book, somehow more anxious now than ever.

Harry said yes at once, frustrated no one was acting faster on this, and that Dumbledore still wasn't looking at him.

In some distant part of his brain, Harry almost felt bad for those around him, all of whom looked ready to break something any second. The fear they all felt through him for Arthur's well being, his confusion and anger at Dumbledore growing more every second. He'd have never wanted them to feel all he was, yet at the same time it was making this whole thing bearable. At his time no one had seemed to grasp his panic, anything he'd been feeling at the time, but now all four of them certainly seemed to.

Dumbledore finally jumped into action, addressing two portraits named Everard and Dilys.

Normally Harry would have been distracted for the question that popped to his mind, a second of breathing space to ask if anyone had any idea what Dumbledore was suddenly doing, but Harry just didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to pause for a single second, not until he had confirmation Arthur was alive.

While all had apparently been asleep, two snapped to attention at once, one an elderly witch with ringlets and the other with a black fringe.

He addressed Everard to raise the alarm and make sure the right people found the man with red hair.

That did catch Harry's attention though, now that he realized this was about Arthur, and looked wildly around for some kind of explanation.

"When a portrait has a duplicate, it can travel between the two, completely out of its vicinity of the nearest portrait like a normal one." Sirius swiftly responded in as much of an apology he could offer for his earlier crack. "There's one in my place actually, that's also in that office. Old headmaster, Phineas Nigellus."

Harry knew that fact should have felt more interesting, would have been fascinating to think about further in any other circumstances. Now he easily put together these portraits must house somewhere in the Ministry and just wanted to keep going.

Both left out the side of their frames and did not reappear, as usual, in their partners but vanished entirely. As Harry watched the others, he saw most were still awake as well though only pretending to be asleep, and Harry put together who'd been talking upon their arrival.

James felt that smile somewhere deep in him, pride for his son putting that together in the face of his stress. The fact that Harry always managed to remain so level headed and wasn't having an outright fit, a pure babbling mess like he had every right to be, made him as proud as a father could be.

Dumbledore turned and explained for the two boys that as respected Heads of Hogwarts, those two and many others had portraits outside this castle that they could frequent whenever they liked.

"Oh, so Dumbledore can still bother explaining some things! Good to know his priorities are to teach you rather than bother looking at you, or tell you something important. No, a history lesson is what's needed now!" Lily seethed.

Harry demanded what good that would do, Arthur could be anywhere.

Dumbledore kept talking as if Harry hadn't spoken, saying it may take those two a moment and for McGonagall to draw up some chairs for their wait.

Sirius was fidgeting so hard in place it would have been hard for Harry to concentrate any other time, but Harry had yet been so focused on the printed words before. Still, it was a minor distraction that had a small part of him trying to comprehend other things, like how Dumbledore may not have acknowledged him because he in fact knew exactly where Arthur was...

McGonagall did as asked, but rather than the comfy chintz chairs Harry had seen this magic before produce, she made two straight-backed wooden ones.

Remus wanted to chuckle at that, make the observation that it was the conjurer of the chair that made its appearance and how fascinating the differences were between McGonagall and Dumbledore, but it felt impossible to even find the words to begin on such a mundane subject right now.

Harry sat on the edge of his seat, still watching Dumbledore who was paying them no mind, instead bustling around his office. First he went to Fawkes and told they needed a warning, and the bird flashed in a fire. Then he went to his spindly table and brought back to his desk a delicate silver instrument. He tapped this with his wand, and when a snake emerged,

Dumbledore seemed unsurprised, but asked in essence divided?**

Harry gaped at that line, the memory of seeing Dumbledore paying more attention to this than him somehow making this situation feel worse every second. Who cared about essences divided, was it really more important than what was going on in an innocent man's life who may die? Why was Dumbledore just sitting there and doing nothing but playing with a toy?

Harry had not a clue what any of that meant, and Dumbledore did not seem app to explain as he went and put it back. Harry tracked him, glanced again at the portraits, and when they caught him staring again pretended sleep.

"Why do they bother!?" The question burst out of Harry so violently they wouldn't have been surprised to see sparks come shooting out of his wand. James even had the mad desire to ask where that was, hopefully not next to his buttock, though more likely it had singed his jeans- "So what if I know they're awake?"

He hadn't meant to practically shout that at them, but the silence was becoming oppressive, there and then. He just wanted one answer that made sense, was that too much to ask for?

"Because they think it's funny." Remus easily met Harry's eyes and for a moment started babbling out an answer again, and this now familiar sight gave Harry a chance to breathe in relief as he kept going for a moment. "Like all the portraits, their main existence is to collect gossip, even the Headmaster's aren't immune to that, so they think if they feign disinterest like this you'll keep talking and ignore them-"

"Moony," James quickly inserted before he went into a full blown tangent. "You once swore you were going to blow up every one of them in the castle after they spread a particular rumor about you, I think you're taking that one a little personally."

"I would never," he said without a hint of remorse. "Besides, I was only a second year, I was a tad dramatic at the time."

"At the time?" James sarcastically repeated.

"The rumor was about someone he had a crush on," Sirius said conspiratorially to Harry and Lily. "Personally I thought the portraits didn't care that much, but Moony still swears he heard the whisper."

Harry finally realized what they were doing. So long as he didn't ask them to stop they would have kept going like this as long as he needed. A detachment, a moment to realize the return of his memories were only just that and these things had already happened, so his worrying about them wouldn't make it better when he got an answer. He appreciated it more than he could put into words, and yet he did want to still keep going. The distraction had worked, and while still angry and frightened over his past, he couldn't avoid it no matter how much he was scared of the answer.

The portrait of Everard returned first, saying he'd shouted until someone came running, they carried him away covered in blood.

Whatever temporary relief Harry had gained vanished again that moment. He'd have given anything to take it back, to never have done this to someone he cared so much about...

Moments later the woman came back as well, announcing he'd made it to St. Mungo's, and he looked bad.

James made a breathy noise he couldn't deny was a muffled yelp of concern. He'd never even met Arthur, but he couldn't help feeling such deep care for a person Harry did.

Dumbledore thanked them both before turning to Minerva, requesting the rest of the Weasley children be brought here.

Remus shivered in fright of being awoken to that kind of news.

McGonagall left at once, Harry looking to Ron and seeing how terrified he still was.

"I can only imagine," Lily whispered, keeping her hand on her son's shoulder and looking sharply around the room at her family.

McGonagall paused at the door and asked about Molly. Dumbledore said he'd let her know as soon as Fawkes was done, but the mother may already know with that clock of hers. Then McGonagall took off.

Lily imagined the late hour all of this was taking place, but then thought Dumbledore was still likely right. If Arthur was out on some Order mission, she'd be waiting up for him to come home, oh the poor dear sitting all alone and seeing the hands of that clock move...

Harry did not need to ask about this, realizing with a pang Mr. Weasley's hand would now be pointing at mortal peril.

'Wonder if her kids at school are always on that around Umbridge.' Sirius couldn't help the errant thought even as he was so intensely focused on Harry.

It was very late though, and more than likely Molly Weasley was asleep not watching her clock, not realizing her Boggart had turned into a reality.

Lily pressed a shaking hand to her mouth, tears stinging at her eyes as she could only imagine the pain Molly would be in for that coming to life, something you couldn't just magic away. It wasn't going to happen though, it couldn't, Arthur wasn't going to die and leave his family like that...

Dumbledore was now rummaging through his cupboards and came back with a plain black tea kettle, which he rapped with his wand while saying Portus. It glowed blue for a moment before going back to looking as innocent as ever.

"Finally," James muttered as he shifted his weight. A portkey had been made, that meant someone was finally going somewhere. Arthur was at St. Mungo's, and he would come back out of there! So now Harry and Dumbledore should be headed there, and Dumbledore could explain more to Harry in the meantime.

Abandoning that for a moment, Dumbledore then turned to another portrait and began trying to speak to Phineas.

Sirius tisked in agitation for his being brought up even while he frowned in confusion what Dumbledore was up to with him.

The man with a green backdrop and a pointed beard at first did not respond, as if truly asleep, but after the other portraits joined in shouting at him he 'jolted' awake and asked innocently if he'd been called?

"I can see the family resemblance," Lily muttered under her breath soft enough Sirius wouldn't hear her, a good call as James gave her the stank eye for that joke for Sirius.

Dumbledore said he had a message,

Sirius looked genuinely touched for a moment he was getting passed along the message about Arthur. He hadn't even crossed his own mind yet, what was going on here? Still, it also raised confusion as much as anything, wasn't getting to Arthur more important than passing along the message of where he was?

and at first Phineas had no want to do any such thing, saying he was too tired.

The other portraits began shouting at him in outrage, one even offering to persuade him to do as told while raising a painted wand.

"See Moony, not all portraits are bad," James said at an attempt at his conversational tone of voice. He failed, but it was a good try.

Remus didn't bother responding.

Harry wished he could have kept the topic alive for even a moment, to ask if magic would even work for a painting, but now had never been a worse time.

The man gave in with an uneasy look at said wand, Dumbledore instructing him to go to Sirius and tell what had happened, that the Weasley kids and Harry would be arriving at his place.

"Ah," Sirius muttered with comprehension. So he was a convenient place then, good to know his real usefulness to Dumbledore.

Remus frowned with an extra layer of worry as something dark passed Sirius' face for what he would have thought Sirius would be happy about, but he hadn't the time to ask for now. The closer they were to hearing Arthur was okay, the better.

Phineas walked away to do as such, just as the other three Weasley's came in shepherded by McGonagall. They turned at once in confusion to ask Harry what had happened, but Dumbledore explained it all and said they were to meet their mother at Grimmauld place.

They would take a portkey he'd just made as soon as Phineas came back, to make sure the coast was clear.

"Who would be there that wasn't a coast clear?" James asked in confusion.

Remus suddenly shivered in fear, the thought striking him if this was an Order attack and Arthur wasn't the only one in danger. If perhaps somehow Death Eaters had gotten the location of The Burrow and Grimmauld place and others should now be fearing a snake attack. He refused to voice that aloud though, crossing his fingers he was being paranoid instead.

Instead the next signal was a flash of fire in the middle of the room, a single golden feather floating before them.

Dumbledore said this was Fawkes' warning, Umbridge knew something was going on, and he asked Minerva to head her off however she could.

"I'd let her come, I need someone to vent on," James said irrationally.

McGonagall left again, as Phineas reappeared to say Sirius would be delighted, but as Phineas commented, he'd always had strange taste in guests.

Sirius managed some kind of his old, rebellious smile that he once would have used while being given a compliment.

Dumbledore had the five of them circle around the kettle then, saying they'd be there once he counted to five. He only made it to two though, when he finally glanced at Harry, and Harry felt something white-hot flash across his scar as he met his headmaster's eyes, suddenly feeling the urge again to strike, to sink fangs into Dumbledore.

Harry couldn't do it anymore. Too many things poured up inside of him as he dropped the book and pulled away from his mother, from all of them in anger as he shouted, "you lied! What the bloody hell was that then! There's something wrong, in me that-" he cut off with a cry of pain, his mind fit to burst right out of his skull it was pulsing so hard.

"Harry, no-" Lily had tried to cut him off at once, she wouldn't believe that for a second, but then they all froze in fright as Harry remained frozen. For one heart stopping moment they feared he'd finally done it, said something he shouldn't have that pushed his memories in too fast. They didn't understand what he could have meant, but the stark look of pain on him had yet been rivaled.

His exhale was the only thing that let the others breath, his eyes still screwed up in pain, but for now he was at least still alive. Probably fearing permanent brain damage, Lily was now being more persistent than ever in forcing her only child to look at her, and when he finally did she nearly collapsed herself in relief. "Harry love, please, you must stop! We're going to get through this, but we can only do that if you live through it."

Her voice broke, but it was clear he'd gotten the message as shame crossed his face. He'd only been thinking about himself, what he could have done, but what Lily had said made him realize this was about much more. "I'm sorry." The whispered apology didn't begin to cover how he felt for doing this to them, but it was the only thing he managed to string together.

"You should be," she agreed, though there wasn't a sharp edge in her voice. "Scaring the piss out of us, do you want me to have a heart attack at my age?"

He wanted to apologize again, but seemed aware of what that would get him, so instead he simply met all of their eyes until he felt his breath return. There was no true ease to his shoulders as he went back for the book, but he also knew he could manage to keep going so long as they truly couldn't hate him for this, whatever this was.

The moment Dumbledore said three, he vanished along with the others no matter what he'd been fixing to do, blinking and finding himself in the kitchen at Grimmauld place.

A croaky voice created them, calling them blood-traitor brats as usual, and then a more familiar voice roared to get out!

As if Harry hadn't suffered enough in the span of these few minutes since Arthur's problem started, somehow Harry still managed to look worse because of this. His hands were shaking as he held them against his head, as if forcing it to remain intact. They couldn't understand why, what about Sirius shouting at Kreacher would cause something even worse than Arthur's condition in his head? Yet he couldn't do it, not moments after what he'd nearly done to himself. Remembering something even a second early would probably cause him to finally overload, no matter how important it was to his life, so he clung to the warmth around him and forced his eyes open, glaring daggers at the book for causing all this, and yet forcing through another page because it was the only kind of answer he could offer.

Kreacher was going sulkily up the stairs while Sirius stood anxiously in front of them, unshaven and clearly in day old clothes with the stale hint of drink around.

Even in the throes for his worry of Arthur, James still held plenty for his own friend. How was it possible Sirius sounded worse every time he was mentioned?

He asked what was going on, for more details, but all the Weasley's could do was turn to Harry in hopes for the same thing, Harry even heard Kreacher pause on the steps to hear.

Harry couldn't help wincing again, thinking back to all of the accusatory looks, that's certainly what they'd felt like to him at the time. He knew he couldn't keep going on his own now more than ever, not having to see that imaged into anyone in here.

Harry forced himself to explain again, though this time leaving out the detail of being inside the snake, instead phrasing it as if he'd just watched the whole thing.

His mother's touch was growing painful again, with worry Harry understood for what she didn't know was happening to him. He'd have given anything to be able to tell her, but his aching head made it clear he wouldn't be doing that without paying the ultimate price. This way may be slower, but it was the only one he had.

Ron did not correct him, but even with this story Harry felt as if the twins and Ginny were looking at him in accusation.

"You're imagining that," Remus said at once. "I wouldn't believe for a second they'd think anymore of you than us, not as well as they know you."

Harry couldn't bring himself to even look at him hopefully, not after Percy, and yet something of this cut him worst of all. If the twins, if Ginny really thought he'd done this...

They turned away without a word to him though, to Sirius and asking if they could borrow cloaks to head up to St. Mungo's themselves.

Sirius protested at once they weren't going anywhere.

"Sirius!" Lily snapped at him in protest. She wouldn't have even stopped for a cloak if that had been her dad in the hospital, what did he think he was doing?

Sirius looked rather confused himself why he wasn't running out the door right behind them.

Fred looked outrage he was saying otherwise, that was their dad in there!

Sirius demanded of them how they were going to explain they knew Arthur was there before anyone had told them?

"Oh," they all muttered, just as shocked as they were impressed Sirius was thinking ahead like that. Yet it did nothing to improve anyone's mood, never enjoying the reminder of how much Sirius had changed, even in his level headedness.

George demanded how that mattered of anything, and Sirius pointed out what the Ministry would do to Harry if they heard he was having visions like this.

"Thanks Padfoot," Harry whispered, blinking slowly so as not to start crying on top of everything. It was still so new to him, to realize Sirius was still putting his well being above someone else's.

Sirius just hummed. His eyes still dark enough saying he may feel bad about making this call, but he didn't regret it for a second, not with Harry's safety on the line. If that meant forcing the Weasley kids to hate him instead of letting them tear off, putting his godson in danger, he'd do it again.

Fred and George looked as though they could not care less what the Ministry made of anything.

"They don't mean that," James said at once, but not as if he really thought it was true. He couldn't imagine how he'd be feeling, would he put someone else's life at risk to make it to Sirius at this time? It bothered him he wasn't really sure of that answer.

Ginny tried to say they could claim they knew from someone other than Harry, but Sirius didn't buy it, saying it was impossible for them to come up with a believable story. Arthur had been doing something for the Order, and if his kids knew something was wrong seconds after it happened, it could seriously put the Order in jeopardy-

Remus was fidgeting in unease, still unsure of just where any of them would have been in this situation. What if tomorrow this happened to James, would Sirius still maintain this above being there for him? Remus couldn't believe so, and it felt like an out of body experience to see Padfoot so much older, for the first time really adding up that Sirius was older than James would ever be.

The twins shouted they didn't give a damn, that was their dad!

Sirius said back just as loudly their father knew what he was doing when he'd signed up for this, and wouldn't thank them getting the Order into trouble because they were scared! Some things were worth dying for!

Lily had been near tears for a while now, and that nearly did her in. How hardened Sirius had become, whereas now he looked offended by his own words. He'd have never said a thing like that today, but clearly thirteen years away from his family put quite a dark shading on his world.

Fred sneered that was easy for him to say, never risking his neck outside of this place.

Remus never would have believed he'd have the urge to hit one of the twins before now, and yet that had certainly done it. Yet at the same time, it suddenly made him flash back to Molly as well, her anger at Sirius and saying much the same hateful things to him. Coming from her had been the worst thing the woman could have done, and yet somehow Fred saying that finally made Remus realize Molly had been speaking out of love that night. Sirius was still an outsider to this family that Harry wasn't. Didn't make his urge to hit him any less.

What little color Sirius held in his face drained away, he looked for a moment like he was going to hit Fred, but when he spoke it was in a voice of forced calm.

"You have far more restraint than I do," James seethed, only just managing to bottle up his yelling for Fred because his son still reading all of this in the most detached voice ever was far more important, and despite some kind of acceptance Harry had reached, he was still on the verge of a panic attack any second if he didn't get some kind of answer about Arthur, so getting to that was much more important.

He said he understood it was hard, but they just had to wait here until their mother came to get them.

Fred and George looked ready to fight their way past him, but then Ginny and Ron slumped into seats, and the twins went to sit on either side of their sister.

"Honestly, a brawl would have done them some good, let out some energy," James grumbled.

"Harry and Sirius against the twins though, do we really need another reason to visit the hospital," Lily scowled at him.

Harry frowned at the lot of them, he couldn't imagine having to pick a side for either of those fights and was quite glad it hadn't come to that.

Sirius looked relieved, and decided some Butterbeers would help, summoning six of them to the table. Harry took a seat as well, and cracked his open to take a drink, but only for his hands to do something, instead he was more consumed by the guilt.

James could only wish that Harry wasn't still thinking the same, but he couldn't force himself to ask either, because he couldn't decide which would be worse. If Harry continued blaming himself, they had no way to comfort him it wasn't true other than their promise, and that just didn't seem to be enough for him this time. Even if he had accepted this though, then what had happened?!

He couldn't convince himself he'd done any good raising the alarm early, it did not guarantee Mr. Weasley would survive the night.

"Of course it is Harry," Lily snapped at once, her voice louder than she meant it to be in order to make sure Harry understood this. "You saved his life by making sure someone found out so quickly-"

Harry kept reading loudly around her, he couldn't yet wrap his brain around that enough to believe her.

There was also the inescapable business of it being he who had attacked Mr. Weasley in the first place.

Lily shook her head miserably, her hand switching from his shoulder to comb through his messy hair as she kept her perch on the arm of the sofa. The only comfort she had left was that he wasn't still trying to draw away from her touch, yet his constantly thinking this was bad enough James still wouldn't find a place to sit, shifting his weight restlessly and glancing at the book as if prepared to snatch it away from Harry any moment. They couldn't stand watching him like this, but they had no other options.

He tried arguing with himself, that he couldn't just grow fangs and do this, but then what had just happened in Dumbledore's office?

"No Harry," Sirius whispered, trying for comfort rather than force this time. "The, vision, whatever it was, just happens to be lingering worse than the others. You were still left feeling the effects of it, like you are now, but that doesn't mean it's still happening to you, do you feel like a snake right now?"

Faulty logic though it was, somehow Harry still managed a smile even for a second at Sirius, shaking his head in exasperation while he kept going.

He slammed his bottle down in frustration, slopping most of the drink out, and no one noticed.

Sirius fidgeted hard in agitation he hadn't done something, said something to Harry in his own time yet. Why the hell hadn't he pulled his godson aside, to ask if he was okay? Was he really just sitting there moping while these poor kids were going out of their mind with worry? Surely he was still aware enough to at least offer up something?

The next happening was another flash of fire, a note being left behind by Molly through Fawkes, telling that Arthur was still alive and at St. Mungo's, and she'd come for them as soon as she could.

Harry shivered again at the end of the note, the book more in danger of nearly slipping out of his grasp again every second because he couldn't make it stop. He just wanted all of this to stop.

This caused no comfort, Molly's choice of words making it sound as if there was still a chance he wouldn't make it. So they stayed in the dingy kitchen all night, no one speaking a word, yet the silence filled with worry. Sirius only once suggested they try to get some sleep, but the looks of disgust on all faces was answer enough.

Remus glanced to Sirius in concern for the agitated noise he made, saw Sirius was grinding his teeth in frustration and Remus realized he was just as frustrated as Harry at his inability to do anything helpful, now and then.

Only knowing the time by Ron's wristwatch, at five in the morning Molly Weasley finally came over, and she gave them a wane smile.

"Oh thank Merlin!" Lily breathed, finally sagging in some kind of relief. Harry looked so elated at the news he nearly fell off his seat. Finally he could breathe again, something he was sure he hadn't done since the start of that dream. It did not make the events more bearable, made none of his fears escape about his hand in it, but he still clung tight to the knowledge he had not been a hand, or fang, in someone's death.

Her children surrounded her in relief as she said he'd been sleeping when she left, Bill had been with him. Sirius jumped to his feet in his own excitement, announcing they should have some breakfast and shouting at Kreacher to come do this, but the house-elf did not acknowledge the summons.

Harry shivered hardest of all, a walk over the grave feeling trying to restrict his lungs and some horrifying image floating just behind his conscience, ready to pounce the moment he let his guard down. He couldn't though, not now. So Kreacher had ignored Sirius, surely that wasn't unheard of for the elf who hated his master. He glanced at the others, but none of them had even so much as blinked at this, which convinced him enough to go on, not knowing they just hadn't thought of it odd for one second in their relief of the news.

Sirius waved the moment off and began cooking up some eggs, Harry hurrying to his side to help set the table, but Molly caught him first and gave him a hug.

Harry stuttered in a new kind of surprise, but beside him his mum hummed softly, her nails not even hesitating as she kept messing with his hair. "Now how can you still think you'd done this?" She demanded, the love in her voice still unmistakable to Harry's shock. "Surely if this woman thought for a second you had this would not be her response. We can't all be wrong about this."

He still sat there, flabbergasted for a moment as he tried to understand how Mrs. Weasley, how all of them could be so sure of this?

She whispered in his ear she didn't know what she'd do with herself if he hadn't saved Arthur's life. They wouldn't have found him for hours, he surely would have died. Even if he hadn't, but still been caught, Dumbledore had been warned in time and come up with a cover for where Arthur was, so he wouldn't end up like Sturgis.

"What does this have to do with Sturgis?" James' face puckered with confusion.

"He was at the Ministry when he shouldn't be," Lily reminded, frowning at him in confusion for how he'd forgotten this fact.

"Yes," he agreed, "but Arthur works there. I can't imagine how far fetched it would be for this to have happened there, but this wasn't at the Ministry. I thought this had to do with whatever the Order was guarding."

Lily blinked in realization that the two indeed did not line up with what had been on Molly's mind.

That left them all stumped for a moment, but one worried glance at Harry frowning as he tried to understand as well put them a bit back into panicky, they didn't want Harry thinking about anything he shouldn't be so Remus quickly offered, "Molly's a worry wart, we all know that, she was probably just drawing a line where one wasn't needed, fearing Arthur would get in trouble for this job like Sturgis did for some other Order job."

Harry's frown didn't quite vanish, because Harry just knew his gut was telling him Remus was entirely wrong on that, but for now he wasn't going to harp on it. No matter how important this was, and he could feel deep in his soul it was of the utmost important to his life, this matter could wait just a while longer until his head stopped aching so much from his experience today.

Harry could not accept her gratitude, but thankfully she released him and went to speak to Sirius, saying how grateful she was for him looking after her kids, and how thankful she was he was letting them be so close to the hospital while here, of course this meant they may have to stay until Christmas.

Sirius agreed at once with such sincerity it made Molly truly beam as she put on an apron to help him with breakfast.

"Miracles do happen," Lily shook her head fondly at these two finally finding some common ground in helping out these kids.

It didn't last long as Harry asked to speak to Sirius, privately.

Sirius couldn't help a little keening noise of worry. He didn't like it took Harry pulling him aside, to say what he was sure was coming. He should have been the one to do this for Harry. He wouldn't have forced him to talk to him, but even giving his pup the option would have made him feel more useful than cooking breakfast!

They stepped into the dark cupboard, Harry telling Sirius everything, including the part where he'd been inside the snake.

Sirius waited until he was done before asking if he'd told Dumbledore this?

Sirius snarled in outrage, startling the others badly, as they'd still been focused on Harry and worried he'd have a relapse into believing this to be true all over again.

"What is wrong with me! That is not the first thing I should have said! You didn't do it Harry, I know you didn't!"

Harry watched Sirius with honest concern. Sirius looked as ready to hit his breaking point as Harry just had, his odd behavior finally pushing his godfather to his own outrage.

"Padfoot," James said so quietly it would have been impossible for him to hear even right next to him. James cleared his throat hard and said with more force, "Sirius, I know this is driving you crazy, but I don't blame you for that being your first question. If something was wrong with Harry, then the first person you'd ask is Dumbledore, I do get that."

"But why would I skip right to that!" He groaned, burying his face in his fingers. "Am I really more concerned with whatever the Order's doing than his well being?"

"No!"

The snap came from Harry of all people, who went cross eyed with pain, but shook his head quickly while waving them off and muttering, "I know, I swear I'm not remembering anything, I just know! Sirius knows something, and him asking that will make sense when we do too."

Sirius did not look convinced, but he kept himself pulled together from the force of Harry's confidence in this. Harry blinked in surprise as he realized this, some tiny part of his own resolve strengthened by the smallest amount as he realized he could do the same. If Sirius could just believe him on word like that, he should be able to do the same about the snake attack.

Harry agreed, and then quickly explained the rest, about how he'd felt like a snake and wanted to attack Dumbledore. Harry could only see one eye of Sirius' in the dark lighting, the rest of his face was in shadows. His voice remained calm as he told Harry it must have just been remnants of the dream-

Harry cut him off that wasn't it at all, he'd really felt like there was a snake inside of him!

Sirius insisted Harry just needed some breakfast, and sleep. This would all look better once he saw Arthur was alive. Then he patted Harry on the shoulder and went back out with the others leaving Harry alone in the dark.***

Sirius still made a guttural noise of anger, as of now unable to believe any explanation they'd find out would excuse him of just leaving Harry at a time like this. He couldn't look James in the face, he felt as ashamed of his life as Harry and wanted to walk out of the room as a failure to his godson for not being of any help to anyone! Yet the moment the thought crossed his mind, Harry finally leaned back into him. Instead of pulling away as he'd been doing since his fear of some snake, he pressed his knee beside his and kept going with the most calm he'd yet gathered in this chapter. Sirius forced himself to take comfort then even Harry just confiding in him had made him feel better, even if his own response hadn't been up to par.

Everyone but Harry ate a full breakfast and collapsed for a few hours of sleep, but Harry refused both. He pressed his spine into the most uncomfortable position possible against the bedframe and sat frozen with terror that he'd transform again and attack Ron, or someone else in the house.

James couldn't help a violent snort that wasn't really humorous at all as he looked at Harry for that one. "Unless you somehow achieved becoming an animagus without us knowing, or you are far more advanced in Transfiguration than we realized, that one is impossible prongslet."

Harry still felt an itch under his skin, some deep part of him he couldn't understand that didn't make this feel so outlandish, but still he met his eyes desperately for some way out that didn't leave him breathless with fear. James still met his eyes, and if that was the only reassurance Harry could get for now, he'd take it with all the hope he had.

By the time the others awoke, Moody and Tonks had arrived with their school things, so that they could have some Muggle clothes to put on for the trip to London. The two were greeted cheerfully, with a few jokes passed around about how Tonks was going to stick out more than Moody, for her bright pink hair would be plenty of distraction from the low brimmed hat Moody wore to cover his magical eye.

"A magical feat in itself," Sirius shook his head at the odd pair, his thoughts far more centered around where Remus was. He didn't like that he may be so out of touch he hadn't even gotten the message yet.

Tonks took a shine to what had happened to Harry, and spent the majority of the trip trying to chat with him about it.

Harry was fidgeting in agitation again, this being the last thing he wanted to further discuss. He'd love to simply skip to the end of this chapter already, he'd gotten his answer and was now convinced Mr. Weasley did survive, now he didn't want anymore to do with this topic.

Asking him if there was any Seer blood in him?

"Not that I'm aware," James said with force brightness that sounded like a bad Floo connection. "Unless Lily's been hiding something from me."

She gave him an exasperated look even as she couldn't help a genuine smile for her husband. There was that love of her life still trying to make others smile.

Harry said no too harshly, feeling insulted by the comparison to Trelawney.

"Well I guess that's better than worried, so she's doing some good," Remus tried in vain for a smile.

Tonks agreed ruling that out, as he wasn't so much as predicting this but seeing as it happened. While odd, this was useful.

Harry was twitching in unease again, thinking it would be even more useful if he could somehow influence it for good, to have forced the snake to not attack. Until then he couldn't find it very helpful at all, especially if the side effects would continue leaving him convinced he'd done these things. He still hadn't entirely ruled that out no matter what those around him said.

Harry responded to her as little as possible as they entered the populace, sticking close to Moody instead who was receiving odd looks indeed, though more for keeping his hand stuffed in his coat.

"I'm sure that looks rather frightening to Muggles," Lily murmured, knowing she'd have likely thought him a mad bomber with that description.

"Better than what he'd protect them from," Sirius shrugged.

Harry just paused as he always did, looking to them with happiness that they could still find such mundane things to comment on, it really was the best part of his continuing.

When Harry asked where this was, Moody explained they'd had to find somewhere very particular for this place. Diagon Alley nor their usual places weren't big enough, and they couldn't put it underground as that wasn't sanitary, so they'd managed a building.

James frowned at the idea, he'd never been. When his parents had become ill they'd have a nurse visiting his place to tend to them, but he couldn't imagine his folks blending in with their disease through a Muggle inhabited area. He supposed they could have charmed themselves, but the amount of energy that would have taken on top of them being sick still seemed odd to him. He knew that you could Floo there in case of emergency though, so perhaps that was the more likely option if it was too severe, like they most likely had done for Arthur.

Tonks stopped in front of an old, apparently abandoned clothing store. There were dusty manikins out front with out of style fashions. Tonks leaned in and whispered who they were here to see, and at first Harry thought it ridiculous Tonks would be heard through the glass,

Sirius felt only a semi-hysterical giggle for Harry's lack of faith in magic persisting even at this age.

before he reminded himself that dummies couldn't hear anyway.

"Oh yes, that was the important part," Remus managed an almost natural chuckle that time to cover his newly strained smile. Sirius gave him a concerned look for that, but Remus gave no indication he was going to elaborate.

Then the mannikin actually nodded, and Tonks escorted Ginny and Mrs. Weasley inside, Ron and the twins going next. Harry glanced behind him, and saw no passers remotely concerned six people had just vanished.

"One of these days that'll stop surprising you," Lily told him fondly.

"Though hopefully none soon," James continued to watch the surprise on Harry's face with amusement. He never thought he could smile again after what he'd just watched Harry go through, but finally here was something he'd never get tired of seeing, his sons wonder at magic he'd never stopped to feel. James finally forced himself to sit back down again, even though the motion was lost on him as he kept his eyes on his son.

Moody grabbed his shoulder and escorted him through, and Harry stepped into quite an odd waiting room. It was reminiscent enough of a common doctors office, with waiting chairs and magazines spread around, but the clearly magical reasons for these people being here rather stood out. Several had arms or animal parts where there shouldn't be.

"How on earth do they just walk past muggles to talk to a dummy?" Harry asked, forcing far more bemusement into him than he really felt. He could not just sit around thinking about his attack without possibly causing himself another fit, so thinking about anything else would have to be a must for now.

James explained his idea of what he'd been thinking earlier, and Harry finally looked interested in this topic enough that when he turned back to the book, he actually didn't look like he was reading a horror story.

Witches and wizards in green uniforms with a wand and bone crossed into them could be seen walking around with clipboards talking to the waiting people, and Harry asked Ron if those were the doctors.

Ron looked startled at this conclusion, saying those were Healers, nothing like those Muggle nutters who cut people up.

Lily spluttered in concern for that, demanding, "just what has Ron been told about that?"

"Never heard of them," James said honestly.

"They're, well, Muggle Healers," Lily struggled to think of a better way to explain that wouldn't confuse him about medicine he'd have no clue about.

James looked satisfied enough with the answer though, while Harry actually giggled for a moment for the exchange between them before telling his mum, "I've never mentioned them, but maybe Hermione said something once that gave him the wrong impression."

They followed Mrs. Weasley up to the help desk, above which was hanging the portrait Harry recognized from Dumbledore's office of Dilys. She briefly met Harry's eyes before giving him a wink and vanishing.

Feeling more angry at Dumbledore than ever, Lily wanted to yank that portrait down and shove it in the nearest bin for someone still managing to find a way to spy on her son.

A man in line in front of them was doing an odd sort of jig, trying to explain between yelps of pain that the shoes he was wearing were eating his feet.

The woman hardly glanced up as she asked if they stopped him from reading? She gestured to a sign while still telling him fourth floor.

"I can see how kind and helpful she'll be already," Sirius said with interest. Maybe he should get into nursing if he could talk to people like that.

Remus rolled his eyes, sadly knowing exactly where Sirius' thoughts were by that comment alone.

Harry read this sign curiously and found each floor distinctly labeled, the third being purposed for potion and plant poisonings with the results of rashes, regurgitation, uncontrollable giggling, etc.

"Why on earth would you come in for uncontrollable giggling?" James happily interrupted. "I'd just ask where I can get that?"

Lily brushed her hand one more time over her son lovingly, but finally he seemed at peace enough that her hovering over him wasn't strictly necessary, so she went over and gave James a light swat for the crack.

All the way up to the fifth floor where there was a tea room.

The print below all this said if anyone had any questions, feel free to ask any of the helpful staff whom would be delighted to assist.

"Delighted isn't the word I'd use," Remus said darkly under his breath, having dealt with quite a few nurses in his youth, and he wouldn't have classified a single one of them kind or helpful when tending his wounds. Sirius, for once, wasn't really listening to Remus' mutters.

Another man stepped up in front of them asking for the room Broderick Bode was in.

Harry felt an odd buzzing on the edge of his mind, some warning for a name he had no clue of. Looking around he didn't see anyone who would either, so he had not one thing helpful to link this together.

While told in ward forty-nine, he was warned of the useless visit as the man was still convinced he was a teapot. The next person was holding onto a child by her foot, because she was flying in the air with wings from her head. The desk lady still hardly glanced up past directing them to the fourth floor.

"Bummer, I feel like that would have been an interesting story," James said conversationally.

It was Mrs. Weasley's turn, and she said when she'd left she'd been told to ask for her husband's new room.

The woman ran her finger along a list before telling he was now on the first floor in the second door.

They followed instructions to this place, finding the plaque outside it claimed this as Creatures Induced Injuries, Dangerous, Dai Llewellyn Ward:

"Wasn't that the Quidditch player eaten by a chimera?" James asked in surprise.

"That's probably why she got a ward for dangerous named after her," Lily muttered.

Serious Bites.****

Sirius snorted violently while chancing a grin at Remus, who responded with such a scowl at Sirius he didn't dare go through with his joke.

Underneath this were the rooms attendings.

Tonks offered non family would wait outside to see Arthur. Moody and Harry stepped back in agreement,

The four who weren't reading exchanged a wordless look. It seemed impossible Harry didn't realize by now he'd been included in that family first comment.

but Molly wouldn't have it, pushing him in first, saying Arthur wanted to thank him.

Harry stepped inside to a small room with three occupants, and only one window on the far wall. The dark brown wood cast the room into even more shadows, only illuminated by a floating candle above them all.

Sirius was alternately frowning from the book to Remus now, stumped and therefore very agitated he couldn't put together what had Moony so bothered about this place, it was clear enough to him he recognized the set up, but when had he ever been here?

Mr. Weasley was on the last bed at the end, and beamed at the sight of them all. Molly went to his side at once and began smoothing his bed sheets, worrying that he looked peaky.

"Everyone looks peaky in a hospital," Lily muttered with an anxious glance at Remus. Only three days after a full moon and he still looked rather worn himself no matter how much Lily tried to give him extra at meals. She imagined he'd look even worse laid out in a hospital bed rather than comfortably sitting next to his friend.

His kids greeted him with worry, but Arthur quickly promised he was fine, as soon as they could take the bandages off he'd be free to go.

Fred asked in surprise why they hadn't then, and Arthur said cheerfully it was because when they did he started bleeding like crazy.

"I do adore Arthur's spirit," James chuckled, happily cheering on the man making those around him feel better while he was clearly still ill.

Commenting how the snakes fangs seemed to hold an unusual venom that kept his wounds open.

Harry had to force himself not to reach up and rub at his teeth, to still convince himself they would not extend into those very fangs that had done so much damage.

Remus had to force himself not to demand of no one in here what Nagini was. He'd been fascinated by the idea of her since he'd first heard of her, though would happily take a severed head for what it had done to Arthur, not all creatures needed to be studied alive.

He was sure St. Mungo's would figure it out though. Then he lowered his voice further and said his wasn't even the worst in here, the man across from him had been bitten by a werewolf, there wasn't a cure for that.

Remus winced so hard Sirius was now quite glad he'd stopped himself mocking that sign, which he now realized Remus had probably seen abundantly in his childhood. If in fact he'd been in that very same ward when all this was happening to him before he went to Hogwarts, the memories that were probably going through Moony's mind right now because of this.

He glanced anxiously at him but Remus was forcing his face to remain fixed of any emotion, he wouldn't let his friends see how much the idea of going back to that place bothered him. He wasn't a little kid anymore.

Mrs. Weasley glanced over in concern, saying shouldn't he be in his own room then?

"Hey!" James snapped in outrage, and he was just starting to like her again.

"Oh stop, the lot of you," Remus said in exasperation before anyone could get started. "You know full well that's how normal people react to finding out that news."

"Are you insinuating we're not normal?" Lily mock frowned at him, while really she was watching him steadily to see how much that really bothered him. A lot more than he would admit, she could tell that much.

"I know none of you are," he said testily, waving Harry on impatiently, knowing there weren't words for how grateful he was for the truth of that.

Arthur waved off her concern it was two weeks to the full moon, he was harmless until then of course. Arthur had been chatting with him a bit, leaving out names of course, but saying he knew a fellow with the same condition and he found it easy enough to manage.

Remus looked half aghast half mildly amused at such a kind hearted way to put that, wondering just how much he put up in front of the Order for Arthur to think such a thing. While James and Sirius had known him for years and wouldn't even think something so candid after watching him adjust to daily life even after all these years, month after month.

George asked what he'd said to that, and Arthur sadly replied he'd been threatened with another bite to shut up.

Harry wondered if he was supposed to laugh or not, took one glance at Remus, and most definitely decided not.

Then he switched to the woman who had a chunk of her leg missing, but she wouldn't tell how it happened, probably meant she was doing something illegal to get it.

"So Hagrid isn't the only one out there insane enough to do that," Remus said forcefully, in an oh so subtle attempt to change the subject.

"Thankfully he at least has never suffered that bad because of it," Lily murmured with worry for the poor woman. Not telling what had bit her could be very dangerous while they treated her. She was risking more than her leg by not telling.

Fred leaned in closer than ever and asked if their dad was going to tell what had happened?

Arthur gave Harry a bemused smile and reminded his kids they already knew. He'd had a long day, dozed off, and gotten sneaked upon by a snake.

Harry fidgeted with unease for that though, he just couldn't believe Arthur had fallen asleep on the job like that, something else must be going on there.

George indicated the Prophet next to Mr. Weasley's bed and asked if the story was in there, and Arthur said no at once, the Ministry wouldn't want anyone to know a serpent had got- but at a quick snap from his wife quickly finished with gotten him.

Harry took a long moment to just stare at what Mr. Weasley had almost said, and then glanced up to find the other's jaw open with surprise.

"It, did happen, inside, the Ministry," Lily put together slowly.

"But that's insane, I mean, that's means-" James struggled to get out a coherent sentence.

"The thing the Order's guarding is inside the Ministry," Sirius finished for him breathlessly.

"What other choice is there?" Remus' face was scrunched up as he tried to think of an alternative, because this made no sense. "Both Molly and now Arthur's comments, and now Podmore's mission of getting onto the Ministry's bad side as well, all three of these together can't really be read much any other way. Yet what-"

"But what though!" Harry was practically bursting with excitement as much as fear. "What's the Ministry got that Voldemort wants? What-"

"Deep breaths Harry," Sirius quickly went to patting Harry on the shoulder, to rein him in. "We still don't even know that we're right."

Harry did though, he could feel it. They had put this together, even just the smallest part. There was some other connection too, a big one he was missing, that had something to do with his dream...but now the others were looking at him almost anxiously, clearly wanting him to go on far more than sit around and let him think about something that could hurt him again so soon after things had gone back to whatever semblance of normal this was. Harry couldn't fight them, he still wanted to be done with this too much, to have a moment to consider other more serious problems, and he couldn't do that with them watching him.

George asked where he'd been when this happened, and Mr. Weasley said he'd keep that to himself by happily changing the subject to what he had been reading in the paper. They'd finally caught the man causing regurgitating toilets, someone named Willy Widdershins, and he'd been caught because a toilet he'd jinxed had backfired on him, leaving him unconscious and covered in-

Fred interrupted to ask if he'd been attacked while on duty?

James began snickering uncontrollably that Fred had essentially finished his father's sentence.

What had he been doing?

Mrs. Weasley hissed at him this wasn't the place, they weren't discussing this here.

"More like ever," Sirius sighed for the poor twins, and Harry, and by extension them, never getting to know anything,

Arthur kept going by saying Willy wasn't being charged for anything though, how most likely gold was thanks to that-

Harry frowned severely at that, something about this little bit rubbing him the wrong way he couldn't quite place his finger on, but it had something to do with one of his problems back at school...

George interrupted again to ask his father if he'd been guarding the weapon, the one they were hiding from You-Know-Who?

"Credit for determination," Remus gave a breathy laugh, something he never thought he'd manage while in mention of that place, but the twins weren't holding up to the anger they'd caused against Sirius earlier.

Now Mrs. Weasley was getting snappy as she told her boys to be quiet. Arthur was babbling without even noticing now as he concluded Willy had gone and landed himself in an even bigger mess, been caught selling Muggles biting doorknobs, and two of them had lost a finger because of it. He then wondered very eagerly if said Muggles were even here being treated for the bone regrowth?

They all laughed lightly for Arthur's never ending enthusiasm. Lily thinking back to that sign at the beginning, and if she was remembering correctly, they may very well be on the same floor as Arthur, depending on if those doorknobs had classified as 'bites' or the fourth if they counted as an unfixable jinx.

Fred was still watching his father for a reaction as he confirmed with Harry that Voldemort had a huge snake didn't he?

All five of them were laughing freely now, unbelievably a calm air finally wafting back through the room. They'd never have believed the twins could do it, but they had managed to make all of them laugh again after something so traumatic to Harry. All because they refused to listen to their mother.

Mrs. Weasley kicked them out then, saying Moody and Tonks wanted a word with him as well.

They left with scowls that lasted only seconds as the door closed, the twins at once pulling out flesh colored string and wondering aloud if St. Mungo's put Imperturbable Charms on their doors.

"Yes!" Sirius cheered. "Alright you two, no knocking of Fred now, he's earned back his jab at me for this!"

James and Remus exchanged a calculating look as they honestly considered this, but if Sirius forgave him then they'd be willing to let slide with a mild smack upside the head now.

Harry hesitated in taking an Extendable Ear, but was quickly convinced by Fred pointing out that in saving his life, Harry had more a right than anyone to eavesdrop on Arthur.

"That logic," Lily said drolly as she rolled her eyes while all boys grinned in agreement.

Harry gave in at once and stuck one end in his ear, the other through the door which slithered right through, and suddenly he could hear Tonks as clear as if she were beside him whispering there was no sign of the snake.

Moody agreed it had probably only been on lookout, to get a picture of the place, if Arthur hadn't been there it would have taken its time looking around. Then he confirmed that since Potter had seen the whole thing, at least that hadn't happened.

Lily's eyes flashed with her own healthy amount of venom, near foaming at the mouth with anger, "what's Dumbledore's right to spread that around! If he can't even be bothered to explain to Harry how this could be happening, how dare he go telling the rest of the Order this!"

"Trust me Lily, I'd love to let you give him a piece of your mind," James promised, making no move to stop her, knowing it would be futile. "The man hasn't actually done it to him yet though, it may be just a touch preemptive to murder him for this now."

Lily glowered at him for a moment before crossing her arms, which was all the agreement she could offer for now.

Molly sounded anxious as she agreed, Dumbledore seemed worried this happening to Harry, but not surprised.

Moody said he wasn't surprised, there was something funny about Potter.

James looked as outraged as Lily just had. Moody had been his role model these past few months in the Order, someone to look to to understand how to handle the war around him. Now he was more sure than ever he wanted to deck Alastor for saying that about his son.

Of course Dumbledore would be worried, if Potter was seeing things from You-Know-Who's snake, it wasn't going to last long before Potter realized he was being possessed by You-Know-Who.

Harry's eyes went so wide they nearly fell out of his head, only managing to finish the last line before the shock set in.

Harry yanked the Extendable Ear out, looking around at the fear filled faces of Ron and his family.

"I-" his voice broke, and then failed. He kept gazing at the print like his death sentence, clearly convinced now more than ever of his past.

"Harry no," Sirius groaned, fighting back the urge to rip that thing to shreds for doing this to him after they'd just been getting through to him how impossible that was.

Harry didn't want to listen, he couldn't even look him in the face as he thrust the book away, "just keep going, please. Mr. Weasley's still in the hospital and-"

"Arthur is fine," Lily insisted, taking the book away and trying to look him in the face, as he childishly turned his face away again. "He's going to make it. He's healthy and alive and you need to take a break. Everything's going to be okay, you're going to make it through this. We're going to understand what really happened, I know you will. I can't stand you keep thinking like that, a couple hours away from this will do you some good."

Harry looked pleadingly with her, finally meeting her eyes for one second, but he had no more heart to argue. He got to his feet and left the room, Lily trying to go after him, she hadn't wanted him to just leave like that, but James caught her and whispered, "you said it yourself dear, give him a moment." He no more wanted to himself than to hold Lily back, but if they kept dogging Harry and forcing themselves to be around him, they may lose his trust in another way.

It took all of her self control to give him fifteen minutes before she went after him, but when she knocked and there was no answer, she poked her head in and saw him passed out asleep. She closed her eyes and let a tear fall for her child, before leaving him in whatever peace he could find in his dreams, at least in this timeline.

Harry felt bad for deceiving his mother, but he just couldn't stand to be in the same room with them, he was honestly considering just leaving. What had he done for them since his time here but make them miserable, just as he'd always done to the Dursley's life. He felt like a plague, everywhere he went someone always paid for it. Even the Weasley's had befallen his curse, Ginny had been taken into the Chamber because of him, Arthur and Molly only seemed to be in the Order because of him and look where that landed them. He even got another sting from his memories yet returned, a promise this was not the last time their family would be in danger because of being around him, just associating with him.

If he simply vanished now, away from this new family he'd almost had, could he save them?

Surely if he left for good they'd be free of this place, his very presence was even holding them prisoner, how they didn't already hate him for this he had no answer for. He could kill Pettigrew himself and they'd stay safe. He was even confident, in the recesses of his mind, he could find a way to kill Voldemort. He'd take the books with him too, to find out these answers that were ruining his family's life, then they'd never have to suffer anymore because of him...

He was too strung together, from worry, pain, and fear to actually feel the exhaustion working it's way past his plans.

His body continued to tremble as the flashes of light around him, gold, green, and red all blurred together and always that echoing whisper he had to run, to get Cedric's body back while Voldemort whispered a promise for his death.

"Harry?"

It all went black, and that morphed into a door in a long dark corridor. He had to hurry, otherwise he'd die-

"Harry-"

"Sirius!"

He jolted upright in bed, clinging at once to the person he could feel bent over him, but was startled to recognize another voice saying, "alright, I'll go get him. Come on, he's just downstairs-"

"No," Harry quickly said, shaking his head and forcing himself to blink around the room and look instead into his dad's pale face. His grip didn't lessen one bit as he said more quietly but with just as much force, "no, that's alright. Just a bad dream I'm sure, I-" he broke off and rubbed furiously at his sweat soaked cheek, his other hand still hooked onto his dad who kept rubbing a comforting hand mussing up his hair. It was only as his breaths returned to normal did he realize how childish the whole thing would look, and he dropped his own hand, trying to straighten himself up more and glancing at him sheepishly. "Sorry I woke you up," he murmured, noting he was now in night things and how much time must have passed.

"Don't be," James said at once, watching Harry in surprise that's what had come out. "After everything you've been through, honestly it's a wonder you get any sleep."

Harry would not be comforted as chills continued all along him, his voice kept coming out quiet and more intense all the time, "it's just that dream about Mr. Weasley, there's something even worse about to happen, and it's about that, gah if only I could rememb-"

"Stop," James insisted, catching Harry's shoulders and waiting for them to meet eyes. He sat quickly on the edge of his bed, forcing Harry to keep eye contact as he saw him start to glance away again. "Please, you're going to hurt yourself for something that-"

"Don't tell me it'll all work out!" Harry snapped, his eyes shining too bright now. "I wish you'd all stop saying it was okay just because I live, that doesn't make it okay!"

James closed his mouth, almost ashamed by what he'd been fixing to say now because of Harry's sharp words, and instead just pulled his son into a hug. He ignored how his shoulder continued growing more wet, wouldn't bother with any more trivial promises, he just silently promised by refusing to move away he wouldn't leave Harry alone with this.

HPPHPHPHPHP

*My full idea of this scenario is possibly Malfoy cursing him as he left for the day, like we know he did before in casting the Imperius curse on someone randomly there and catching Sturgis.

Arthur fell, the invisibility cloak partially slipped off, and rather than killing him and leaving a body on top of letting Nagini sneak in, he simply let the snake in and intended to dispose of Arthur after he got the Prophecy. If he'd done all this before he'd gotten it, if he'd been interrupted, it would have been harder to play off a dead body rather than an unconscious one. Instead, after Nagini bit him, Malfoy vamoused with her as a failed plan. Not a particularly flawless plan, but I just can't imagine Arthur falling asleep on the job like that.

** This always fascinated me. I picked this line apart for ages upon my first reading of the book to understand what that meant, and I'm still not convinced I do understand it. What even is that instrument?! Does it somehow confirm that Harry is part of Voldemort's soul? Does it really say Harry's story is true and Voldemort and Harry were temporarily inside Nagini? Is it symbolic of Voldemort being on the move? Is it agreeing that Harry and Voldemort are part of the same whole? Is it just something to make us ask more questions we'll never get the answer to!? Ahem, sorry if that started to feel a tad rantish.

***Oh boy am I going to have some stuff to say about this moment in book seven!

****Did you realize if you put those words on a sign, they would read:

Creature Induced Injuries

Dangerous

Dai Llewellyn Ward

Serious Bites

Take the first word of each line: "Creature Dangerous Dai Serious" Or - Kreacher Dangerous Die Sirius. Got to love JK's INSANE amount of attention to these things.

This is probably one of the longer author's notes I have, still not sorry, I love pointing these things out. Have a good day my lovely souls!

#The Life That Never Lived #Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #HP #Marauders #Jilly #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

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