#especially if he blames himself for the draining spell happening because he backed down to save Eber

[willowways]

Head canon:

Ok so I think a lot of people are on board with the ‘darius finds the golden graveyard’ theory for season three but there is also the fact that a lot of BI citizens might blame the coven heads for the whole almost dying thing, and because the C.A.T.S mostly kept the rebellion secrete (except raine on the first go round ,but shhhh) I feel like most of them will have to go into hiding to prevent being arrested or executed.So image : Darius being deadly protective of the rebels (especially eber) trying to find hunter all while tring to process their grief over there mentor dying (probably for the first time) and trying to survive without getting caught by either the collector or the mob.

[kodzuvii]

CLUB STUPID [24: yeah probably]

next [25: premarital hand holding]

PAIRING - SUNA x FEM!READER

GENRE - crack + fluff

warnings - spelling and grammar errors lol guys its 1am plz-

SYNOPSIS - Club Stupid, an anonymous podcast meant for the dumb and dumbest to send in unspoken and nonsensical thoughts about issues they face in their day to day lives and for Y/n to speak out and give her opinions and feelings. Normal feelings though, nothing romantic like how she thinks this lazy guy with questionable hair in the volleyball club is actually pretty cute.

a/n: as an executive member and proud representative of the suna simp club (jk lol idk) it is my duty, to keep my simps fed. you’re welcome. please listen to some cute wholesome shit. 

“Look at this Samu, Suna really his own breed, how does he manage to look more dead compared to how he usually looks”

“Well Tsumu, he ignored the same girl twice in the same week and also got confronted by her cousin who’s also his captain. Pretty sad if ya ask me”

The twins snickered to each other as they eyed the quiet middle blocker who stood by his locker. “Did you see his blocks today Tsumu? I was afraid I was gonna break his toothpick arms with my spikes” Osamu whispered but made it loud enough for Suna to hear. Atsumu nodded, “yeah Samu, totally lame if you ask me. Thank God Yn wasn’t watching him” he teased. “Oi,” Aran called out as he packed up his things on his back that was sitting on top of the benches inside of the boy’s change room. “Lay off of him will ya” he scolded but the pair shrugged and continued to change out of their practice clothes. 

“What’s even happening?” Akagi whispered and Riseki could only turn to him and mirror the same lost look on his face and give a clueless shrug. They both just sat back and watched the scene unfold in front of them. The twins were teasing and throwing indirect jabs and insults towards their middle blocker who looked as if he was going through an existential crisis with the dull look in his eyes. 

Suna was quiet, everyone knew that. Yet somehow in some way, everyone could feel his energy hit an all-time low. He still attended practice sure, but it was like practicing with a pole lamp. He just stood there and observed whatever was happening but even then, his mind was somewhere else. Of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by the coach who gave him an earful about the proper attitude to be having during their practices. Did he listen though? Nah. Listening to a lecture required too much effort. He was just tired and done for the day and the anxious and nervous feeling bubbling up inside of him wasn't helping either.

Suna was stupid. He knew that. His attention span outside of the court was never the biggest and his lack of energy never helped increase his intelligence. He was never the brightest in his class, and honestly, it never bothered him that he wasn’t. Everything he learned came through one ear and left the other. He retained the information for a test but simply forgot everything once it was over. He wasn’t the brightest, and it didn’t bother him not one bit.

What did bother him was his terrible habit of being oblivious towards other people’s feelings. Maybe it was due to his lack of energy or lack of interest, but he simply never put much effort into acknowledging how people felt. Yeah, he got vibes when people had on and off days, his teammates were the twins, you HAD to notice their mood swings and take necessary precautions. It just never occurred to him that more people could enter his bubble. A bubble that revolved around himself.

However, instead of someone finding a way to enter his fragile bubble without popping it, Suna willingly left his bubble when you came into the picture. It was no secret that Suna was whipped the moment his eyes laid on you. He’s been getting clowned about it ever since the twins found out and they never let a day go by without calling him a simp.

He had no clue what type of person you would be when you entered the doors of the Shiratorizawa gym. You looked sweet and bubbly, the smile you came in with never left your face unless you’d whine to your friends or roll your eyes at them. When you stepped into the room, people just naturally gravitated towards your positive energy and your good vibe. He liked that about you. Then again he still didn’t know anything about you at the time. All he knew was that you managed to attract his attention without even directly giving any to him. Every time he tried to look away and focus on whatever was happening in front of him, his eyes trailed back to you.

For a while after camp, you kept popping back in and out of his mind. It was quite ridiculous actually. He’d be taking a drink by the water fountains and he’d look over to the hallway and suddenly the first thoughts would be ‘what if I saw the redhead again?’ It never lasted long, maybe for a split second or two before he snapped himself out of it. He’d never see you again, what was he talking about? He was just being delusional.

So you could imagine the way his mind stopped functioning the night at the train station. Suna had to pinch himself 8 times when he saw you walk out of the train doors. ‘No way’ he thought. You, out of the 7 billion people in the world, was Kita’s cousin. He remembers seeing your tired face and your short stature clad in a big hoodie and loose sweatpants with your hair tied up. You were supposed to look like a mess, why did he keep thinking that you looked so pretty? This must’ve been the higher power playing a trick on him for slacking off during practice. So annoying.

Suna could keep his cool around school. You weren’t in the same classes meaning he didn’t see you at all. So you could imagine the kind of panic that crossed his mind when Kita told the team that he’d have his cousin staying in the gym. He learned later on that you started watching practices because Kita didn’t feel comfortable with you walking home. You were nice to the team, incredibly nice actually. Your easy-going nature made it easy for you to have a couple of conversations with his teammates here and there. While you were nice to Aran and Akagi, you had a little feisty attitude with the twins (mainly Atsumu) and he couldn’t help but admire how outspoken you were. You were blunt, to say the least. That was something you and Kita had in common. But he liked that about you, how you were always free to speak whatever was on your mind and keep a conversation going. 

Suna noticed early on that you rarely paid attention to their practice. He figured volleyball just wasn’t your thing and he couldn’t blame you for that. During water breaks, he’d glance up and watch you tuck back your hair and sometimes he’d catch you scratching your temple in annoyance because of some question you couldn’t answer on your homework. You never looked up, simply unphased by whatever was happening in front of you. 

Even so, he still put the smallest amount of extra effort into his practices. Jumping a bit higher and running a bit faster and spiking the ball with more force. He insisted that it was about time he would break some of his bad habits, but even the team knew that it was a sorry excuse. Truth be told, a little part of him was just hoping that if you ever looked up from your phone or your work in your lap, you’d see him and think that he looked at least a little bit cool. 

One day, on the rare occasion that he’d be listening in class, he remembers his teacher having a discussion with the class about an epiphany. 

The feeling of a sudden or striking realization that hits an individual out of nowhere.

It was late at night where Suna hit an epiphany. You were off to Miyagi, spending your weekend with your best friend and the Twins continued to bug him about his little first-year crush even though he had asked them multiple times to drop the topic. 

Suna came to the conclusion that he liked the way you made him feel. He liked the way he felt at ease when you were around him. He liked how you were so different compared to him, but it never stopped you from forming a friendship with him. You never pushed him to ever open up to you, you listened to the bare minimum he had to say and never took his lazy nature and blunt attitude to heart. He liked annoying you, the way your face would scrunch up when he’d take your bento’s the first couple times during your first initial lunch hangouts or the way you’d puff your cheeks when he comments on your height. He liked the way your eyes lit up when the smallest things caught your attention. He took notes on the songs you said you were currently listening too or the ones that reminded you about happy memories. 

Suna especially liked seeing you smile. Especially towards him. Something about it gave him the same feeling that was comparable to the way he would feel when he would see those jelly sticks on sale at the grocery store. The way you’d roll your eyes in playful annoyance when he'd come up to you and ask to bandage his fingers even though you both knew that he was capable of doing it himself. You would tease him, a playful smile gracing upon your lips, telling him that his fingers would probably break off if you weren’t there to bandage them up. Suna liked thinking that having you wrap them up made his hands feel a bit stronger with his blocks. But you didn’t need to know that.

He remembers a specific memory that lives rent-free in his mind. He was walking down the hallway, casually strolling and taking his time to get back to class after using the bathroom and he happened to notice you heaving a tired sigh as you closed the doors to your class. You looked quite frustrated, probably because it was your art class and you had been complaining days earlier about how creatively drained you were.

 Suna must’ve been looking at you for a moment too long because the moment your eyes met, he felt something tug at his chest by the way your eyes sparkled at the sight of him. Despite being under a little bit of stress, the same smile he grew to enjoy seeing made its way onto your lips and you waved to him excitedly before running up and rambling off about how much your class was pissing you off.

You two eventually got in trouble for skipping the whole period after being too caught up in your conversation. Suna thought it was worth it though.

After scrolling through his phone, listening to Atsumu’s obnoxious lovey-dovey playlist, and inevitably searching “how to know if you like or like like a girl” (there's a difference, he swears) on google. 

He came to his epiphany.

 Maybe before, when he barely knew you and you never knew him, maybe he was just infatuated with the idea of you. 

But it was different now, He liked you.

And that scared him.

It scared him how vulnerable he felt. Suna’s reserved and quiet nature gave him a hard time to open to others. Not that he really cared if he was being honest. He simply had the mindset that no one needed to know everything there was to his existence. Everyone eventually leaves anyways, what was the point?

When it sank into him that he liked you, it confused him endlessly. You never wanted to get out of his head and sooner or later he found himself doing the smallest things for you. The little black silk band was always on his wrist and if it wasn’t on his wrist, it would be tucked away in his pockets. Not to mention that he kept one in his pencil case for good measure. The bandaids inside in his backpack were sealed away in a ziplock bag just in case you ever got hurt because he knew you were a bit clumsy. He found himself keeping his eyes open for little souvenirs and trinkets that looked like something that you’d like wherever he went. 

At first, he thought that he just wanted to upgrade you from friend to best friend. Maybe this was a friendship that he had just been deprived of since his world revolved around constantly meaning to improve in volleyball. Yes, he did find comfort in the friendship he grew with you, but sooner or later he realized that he wanted more. The thoughts of holding your hand slipped into his mind and sooner or later hugging you from behind and resting his head on top yours flowed in followed by taking you back by peppering your smooth and soft cheeks with kisses. That wasn’t something that best friends did.

Kita was right about how his logic of ignoring you to suppress his feelings was stupid and that the worst things that could happen were that he’d get rejected. But he didn’t want to face the chance of him getting rejected, he’d like you for so long and he learned during his time spent away from you that he didn’t want to just stop talking to you. Suna knew himself, if he got rejected then he’d distance himself away from you and never talk to you ever again because the embarrassment would eat him up. 

He didn’t wanna lose you for that. He wasn’t ready. 

What a coward. 

He just really hoped you liked the flowers and read his note, he thought anything was better than a stupid “I’m sorry” text.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

“Hurry up, I need to lock up the gym” Kita’s voice echoed throughout the walls as he stepped into the changeroom. Suna looked up from his phone, taking one last glance at your ‘see you soon :P’ text before shutting it off and shoving it into his pockets. As everyone began to leave one-by-one and bid their goodbyes to each other and their captain. The twins however didn’t leave until they both gave Suna a teasing punch on both of his shoulders. Suna only glared at them before proceeding to make his exit as well. 

Kita stopped Suna before he could exit and the look on his face seemed rather serious. With his voice low, Kita simply said “She needs to be back by 7. If she comes home hurt in any way, I’m benching you” he said sternly and that was enough for him to feel his skin crawl under his tracksuit jacket. Suna nodded, understanding that he really wasn’t kidding and that he definitely bench him. 

Kita turned around and opened the door for them both to leave the changerooms. They walked together side-by-side and from a distance, he could see your short figure walking up to both of them. You looked different today, your hair was sitting on your shoulders and a pair of gold-rimmed glasses he was yet to see was sitting on the bridge of your nose. You were clad in your uniform with an oversized pink knit cardigan overtop. Was that a new cardigan you were wearing? He’s never seen it before either. 

Kita smiled at the sight of you skipping up to them and he watched you two exchange high fives and he gave you a brief little speech about staying late. You nodded along and Suna stood by and watched Kita ruffle your hair making you whine cutely. 

He wanted to do that.

You waved goodbye to your cousin and Kita looked at Suna and gave him a firm nod before turning back and making his way towards the gym doors. You turned back and faced Suna, your hands behind your back as you made your way towards him with a warm smile. “Hey there” you greeted and stood in front of him, looking up so you could look at him clearly. Suna couldn’t help but look at you weirdly, why were you acting as nothing happened? Shouldn’t you be upset with him? “Hi, let’s go?” god, why was he so forward. 

You hummed and shook your head, making him furrow his eyebrows in confusion, “do you not wanna go anymore? I can drop you off if you want-” You rolled your eyes, “I don’t see you for a week and you’re already trying to get rid of me?” you questioned and narrowed your eyes at him. Suna felt his heart wrench as your lips pouted. 

He shook his head, “n-no” he stuttered. Your eyes perked up and you watch his cheeks heat up (potentially from embarrassment, but you're not going to assume) and look away. 

You chuckled and grabbed his wrist and pulled him to follow behind you. What made you so bold today? Probably from the unexpected pep talk you had with Goshiki that morning.

“You don’t need him Ln-senpai! If he thinks he can just look over you and all your greatness and beauty and not acknowledge how beautiful you are and how your very presence graces this dull world then send his ass to KFC! You are a woman senpai! A beautiful woman who deserves everything. Not a value menu that has a 20% off discount!”

Did his speech make sense? Sure. You’ll take it over Tendou’s “cut his dick off if he does you dirty queen” text message sent with the confetti effect on imessage followed by a bunch of knife emojis that was honestly more threatening rather than comforting.

You pulled him out of the gym and Shin gave you a look before shaking it off and locking up the gym doors. From the corner of your eyes, you could see the twins sending winks your way before snickering and walking off. You rolled your eyes and stopped when you reached the doors of the school. 

You turned around and faced Suna who looked very lost and confused. “Let’s not go to the convenience store today, let’s go somewhere else,” you say. Suna nodded slowly, “okay? Where do you wanna go?” he asked.

Just then, you lifted up your other hand and it was only then that Suna noticed you carrying a small pink lunch tote. You let go of his wrist and tucked some strands your hair behind you ear, “we haven’t had lunch together in a week and you had a meeting today again so we couldn’t do anything today either and well..” you trailed off and looked up at him and shrugged, “I figured we could make up for lost time” you muttered. 

Suna felt his chest tighten, not only because you were absolutely adorable and it was making him lose his mind, but it almost seemed like you were the one trying to apologize to him when you didn’t do anything wrong. He did.

You frowned as you looked at how subtly his face dropped. As upset as you were, you understood that he wasn’t ready to tell you whatever he was meaning to hide. He wasn’t obligated to tell you anything and you understand that. A small smile creeping up on your lips, “let’s go eat at the park near my house. The one we walk by all the time. Saves you the trouble of worrying if you’re gonna get home on time or not” you laughed slightly.

Suna couldn’t say no to you, so here were the two of you now. Eating and sitting in front of the other with the bento’s you had prepared on the table. The park was as busy as it usually would be during the afternoon. The atmosphere felt warm as the sky was slowly settling into hues of orange with peaks of pink seeping through. Suna watched you happily eat the bento you had prepared and listened attentively as you told him about everything he missed during your week and you did the same when he talked about his. 

A part of him couldn’t help but admire how pretty you looked in front of him. Suna was lying when he told the twins that you were a 7. You were beyond a 7 and beyond whatever scale they had given him. It was a rare sight to see you with your glasses and partnered with that oversized pink cardigan? You were adorable. 

You tilted looked up from your food and stopped mid-sentence when you saw him just look at you with what seemed to be a fond look in his eyes. But you could’ve just been mistaken, maybe you need to have your prescription checked again. “Rin, what’s wrong?” you asked. At the sound of his name, Suna blinked snapped back into reality and was met with your concerned look. “W-what?” You chuckled, “you zoned out Rin, everything okay?” you asked.

Rin.

He liked the way his name rolled off your lips. 

He shook his head, “I’m fine, sorry. This is really good by the way, I didn’t think you could cook” he said as an attempt to change the subject. You rolled your eyes but you looked away. “As much as I want you to believe I’m some great chef, Granny helped me with most of it” you confessed sheepishly. 

He chuckled and poked the sausage that was cut up into a little octopus with his chopsticks, “Well, you did tell me that you burned rice once so maybe I thought too highly of you to make a full meal” he teased. You scoffed and grabbed his bento, “if you’re not gonna appreciate the chef then you don’t deserve the food” you huffed. Suna rolled his eyes and grabbed yours, “guess I’ll have to eat yours then” he said and shoved some rice into his mouth. Your jaw dropped at his actions, “Hey!”

As the day went on, you both began to feel at ease and comfortable once again with each other's presence. The harmony that flowed around between you two was coming back and was settling into its familiar rhythm. You two continued to chat as if nothing happened. Laughing at anything and everything you found remotely hilarious under the sun. Suna felt warm. He was here, with you, and everything felt okay. With both your bento’s empty and tucked neatly away into your lunch bag and the sun settling down and giving a wake-up call for the stars to come out, it was about time for Suna to bring you home.

The walk back to your place was comfortable. There was no tension in the air or any awkwardness in the atmosphere. It was simply peaceful. You were walking beside him and rambling on about something that had happened to you in class that day. It was slightly cooler and the winds were colder and he had noticed early on that you kept pulling at the ends of your cardigan at an attempt to get some more warmth from it. It would’ve just been rude for him to let you be cold, Kita would kill him if you got sick.

It took you by surprise to see Suna slipping off his volleyball jacket and shoving it into your hands. He was wearing a hoodie under it anyway, he didn’t mind. A part of him was just curious about how his jacket would fit you too and what kind of fool would you be to reject an oversized jacket? It was just extra points that happened to be from the boy that you liked.

Suna nodded along to what you were saying, but he couldn’t help the sudden urge to just grab your hand out of his system. You were walking so close to each other. Your shoulders kept brushing past and your hands were right there. 

But with the events that happened this past weekend, he didn’t wanna overstep any boundaries. He was still too cautious that he would mess up and make you upset all over again. With the thought of his actions, Suna suddenly felt a little ball of guilt eat him up. He never stopped feeling bad about what he did. Kita’s words rang through his head, he needed to learn how to communicate better and not deal with everything all on his own. Maybe he really was a coward for letting such a dumb fear eat him up.

In the midst of your talk about how much you despise your math class, you turned to look at Suna and saw how troubled he looked. He didn’t even look like he was listening anymore and seemed to be having some sort of internal battle with himself. 

You furrowed your eyebrows and grabbed his wrist to stop walking. “Rin, what’s wrong?” you asked, concern lacing the tone of your voice. You both never really brought up what had happened. Maybe you were just too caught up in having a good time but you were honestly content with the reasons he gave you. If he wasn’t ready then he wasn’t ready. 

Suna however felt like he owed you so much more than his apology that he already struggled to explain. 

Suna stared down at you for a moment, the unreadable expression on his face that only made you more confused. It was quiet for a moment, the only sound to be heard was the wind blowing by and the trees rustling.

Nothing would have prepared you for the way he turned around and pulled the arm that was holding his wrist and pulling you into his chest. His hands wrapped around your shoulders as he held you just a little bit tighter. He was a bit stiff, but you couldn’t put that against. He wasn’t the type of person to initiate things like this.

“I’m sorry”

Your body froze, something about his tone was different. It was vulnerable.

You stayed quiet, letting yourself relax slowly in his hold.

“F-fuck, I’m really sorry. I said I wasn’t good with words right? S-so I’m trying to explain now because you deserve it but I don’t even know why I did it. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset at all, I was just caught up with myself and I didn’t consider what I was doing to you. You didn’t deserve that. I like being around you and I’m sorry” He pulled away and one of his hands dropped to your waist and fiddled with the material of his jacket. You watched as his free hand dug deep into his pockets and you watched him pull something out. 

“It’s kind of pathetic if you ask me and it’s also kind of ugly but-” he grabbed one of your arms and dropped the object into the palms of your hands. Your eyes widened at the little paper craft,

It was an origami strawberry.

It was small, it fit perfectly inside on the palms of your hand. You could see that he struggled with making it. The leaves were slightly bent and the tip of the strawberry was ripping off. There were lots of creases all in the wrong places and even the seeds were drawn on. 

But it still melted your heart. 

“I read somewhere about 1000 paper cranes for a wish and well, cranes are kind of hard and I didn’t have enough paper to make 1000 and-god this is so embarrassing-” he muttered the last part but gained enough courage to look up at you and meet your eyes. Your eyes were soft and patient. “I wished that you wouldn’t hate me. Or that, this wouldn’t y’know...make everything all weird between us. I like you-or well uh- being around you at least and I-I know you joke about it all the time but please don't-” 

Suna paused when he felt you wrap your arms around his waist once again, hugging him back but just a little bit tighter. The small confession not even going through your mind because your attention was too focused on the way his words were making you melt. 

“You’re an idiot” you mumbled into his chest and hugged him a bit tighter. Your words made his stomach drop, but that feeling went away when you pulled back and looked at him with a smile. A smile that said you understood. 

“I’m never gonna force you to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me” You repeated but this time it felt different, it felt warmer. 

“I’m never gonna hate you. I know how you are Rin, you’re not good with your words and I get that. You could've sent me a text but you didn’t. You went out of your way with the flowers and even the little note and this adorable fucking strawberry is more than enough” you laughed but you could feel your eyes watering up slightly with the overwhelming amount of emotions you were feeling all at once. “You don’t need to keep apologizing to me okay? I understand. Thank you,” you smiled. Suna stared down at you. Nodding slowly and you chuckled and fell into his arms once again.

This time, he was the one who held you a bit tighter.

“This side of you is cute you know, but It’s kinda ruining your whole tsundere image you’re going for. Bet the twins would make fun of you for being this thoughtful” you whispered jokingly, making him roll his eyes and huff a quiet “shut up” in annoyance. If only you knew the pain he endured for putting up with those twins. 

You both stayed like that for a little while longer. Holding each other and fitting so perfectly in the arms of the other. If it wasn’t for your phone dinging from a text from Shin asking where you were, Suna swore he would have held you there for the whole night. 

You pulled away first and tugged his hand, “come on, Shin wants me home now so let’s get going ‘kay? Don’t want you getting benched the whole season now do we?” you grinned and walked in front of him and tugged him along. 

Somehow in some way, your fingers slipped perfectly into his.

Suna could only feel the warmth rising in his chest, his daze fixed at the sight of his hands interlocked with yours. 

“Oh and Rin” you called out, making him snap back into reality.

Suna hummed, looking right back at you.

“Tell me when you’re ready, okay?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

“Text me when you get up in your room safe”

You turned around to him with a quizzical expression before letting out a chuckle, “I’m in front of my house Rin, I got here in one piece” you said and motioned your free hand towards yourself to prove that you were indeed, uninjured. Suna rolled his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek, “you’re clumsy remember, you might fall or something” he muttered and looked away.

You grinned and squeezed his hand, “Awe, look at you caring for me and my wellbeing. My ears might be deceiving me but it sounds like you’re in love with me” you teased and swung your hands together back and forth.

Suna huffed, his mind not properly functioning when the words fell out of his mouth.

“yeah probably”

Simultaneously, his eyes and yours widened and you both froze. 

Both you and Suna blinked at each other twice. Your eyes looked down at your hands that were still interlocked and looked up at his face that was fully drained of any colour. Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest and Suna began to question the very point of his existence.

“W-what?”

“Uh-”

“Y-you said-”

“A-ah I-”

“Oi!” you both jumped and instinctively Suna pulled you closer to him. You looked at up him briefly before turning around to see Granny waiting by the gate with an impatient but also teasing glint in her eyes. “It’s almost 7:30 Yn-chan! You almost missed bingo night! Kiss ya little friend goodnight and come in before Shin and I eat all the mochi we left for ya” she called out but you could hear the teasing tone in her voice.

“C-coming!” you yelled back. Your face was piping hot and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole from the amount of embarrassment and flusteration you were feeling at that moment. 

Granny nodded and walked back inside, and looked up at Shin who was standing with his arms crossed on the porch. Granny walked back to him with a victorious smile on her lips as she gave him a thumbs up. Granny knew what she was doing and she knew what she saw. She’s gonna call and gossip to your mother.

You gulped and took a step back and looked back at Suna. He was still frozen and his mind was racing at what just happened and he too, wanted the ground to swallow him whole. “I-I uh, I guess I gotta go?” you winced, but the tone of your voice made it sound like you were asking a question. Suna nodded, “y-yeah, goodnight I guess” he muttered as he looked away and you watched his face heat up. 

You were both so embarrassed but neither one wanted to let go of the others hand. 

Suna figured he couldn’t keep you out all night and just as he was about to let go of your hand, a sudden wave of confidence went through your veins and you just went ‘fuck it.’

You pulled his arm down towards you taking him back. His eyes widened, “what are you-” you stood slightly on your tippy-toes and kissed his cheek which made him shut up instantly. “That’s for today, thanks. goodbye.” you said frantically. 

Suna froze, too much in shock and his mind was still in the middle of trying to register what just happened and watched as you let go of his hand and covered your face furiously blushing and running off to your gate and slamming it shut.

He stared blankly at the gate door and blinked twice as an attempt to get himself back to reality. He brought his hands up to his cheeks that were on fire. His mind kept replaying the way your soft lips kissed his cheek and could feel the slightest residue of your lip gloss still on his cheek. 

Shit, you really had him wrapped around your finger. 

“Idiot” 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

a/n: BYE STOP IM SO SINGLE THIS IS SAD AND I AM DEVASTATED.

taglist! [CLOSED] @chocolaterumble​ @elianetsantana​ @versatilewindow​ @introvertatitsfinest​ @aristatrois​ @mizukisonoda​ @amberisnotcrazy​ @kritiiiii @iloveyouasmuchaspoohloveshoney @a-moon-fairy @akaasht​ @lotusweebs @marvelous-maxi @laughingismorefun @hhmnvm @sweetyrina @honeydrip @miracleboy420 @rachelexe @charsdummb​ @sxrcasticbacon @loser-keiji @dinablossom @ntimacy @kac-chowsballs@unhappyraspberry @sbaepsae @doebopeepeebbod @missalienqueen @ssuna @violenthead @unstableye @tycrackculture @a-applepi @lollyzen @aisawa-reo @ashybitch89 @sunflowerirl @sapphicstarss @melodiamore​ @valrubiii @urbasicaveragegirl @mint-mai @4kaashl @sugawsites @anngelllla @applekenm @bumblebeesofspace @dreamstormings @milkingkageyama @tsumu-core @luvelyxp @aquariarose

[fanartfunart]

More Time & Time Again/ OoT Timeloop. (I think this is just a multichapter fic now) Link is helping his younger self out when the boy asks about his own adventure. Link recalls how he failed to change the future. (Tw for death mentions/implied death, fire/destruction, injury and angst.)

Time & Time Again & Part 2

Ao3

-

"How do you know all this?" The Kid asked, holding the Megaton Hammer uncertainly.

Link just smiled, "I went on a journey like yours a while ago....In retrospect, the hammer wasn't too hard to use compared to this one sword that was like, twice my height at the time."

The Kid glanced at Navi with wide, excited eyes. She frowned, "No."

"If I found a sword that big though-"

"Stick to the hammer right now," Navi sighed, giving Link a side eye.

He restrained a chuckle and leaned over to his younger self. In a low whisper he said "I'll give you a tip to getting a sword from Biggeron when she isn't watching."

The Kid pumped a fist and Navi zipped over to gently bop Link's head. "Don't give him ideas."

Link laughed, "I'm not! The idea is all his!"

Navi glared. Probably internally cursing the technicalities of them being the same person.

"Actually though, can you tell me about your adventure?" The Kid asked, tilting his head.

Link frowned. (He was small again, placing the Master Sword back in it’s pedestal. His legs still felt shaky from finally, finally having defeated Ganon.) "Maybe later. ...Besides, you still need to practice with that hammer. You do not want to pull a muscle using that thing... Trust me."

The Kid hummed, and shifted back into a readied stance with the hammer. He grinned "If I win will you tell me?"

"Who said anything about winning? It's practice, not a game."

"Sounds like you're scared you'll loseee, Grasshopper."

Link's eyes narrowed and he grinned, "Oh its on Shrimp."

"Wha- We're the same height!"

-

Link could’ve sworn he’d rigged this game so he wouldn’t lose. Link guesses he’s always had a habit of succeeding despite all logical odds out of sheer determination. He also blames the fact that Navi was helping Little Link and that was just unfair. He sighed as he stared up at his younger self’s near manic grin, laying on the ground.

“Story time!” the Kid said, putting the hammer down and holding out a hand to help him up.

Link accepted the boy-teen’s hand, defeated. He walked over to a nearby crate and hopped up to sit on the edge. The Kid followed and plopped himself in the grass, watching attentively.

He couldn’t tell the Kid his actual story, so he’d have to make up something. He hummed, “...Where should I start?”

“The beginning?” The Kid offered, laughing.

The beginning of his real story was complicated. Was it when the Great Deku Tree sent Navi to him? Or, with that adventure a closed book, was it when he returned to his time, to grow up as he was supposed to?

“Right... Well, when I was younger, I knew a princess in Termina... She saw that an evil man... uh, her uncle, would be king soon and no one believed her... She had asked me to help her.”

-

He skidded to a halt as he spotted the King and...Ganondorf. His heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the Greudo King. Images of his beastly transformation overlapped with the man currently in front of him.

Link dashed forward, past the guards and into the castle itself. He heaved his breaths as he took the most obvious path to the main hall. He didn't even stop to admire the original architecture of the building that would be transformed into Ganon's Castle.

"Who let this boy in?" The King asked, gesturing at him. "This is a private meeting."

Link swallowed, "Where’s Zelda?"

"Are you one of her playmates? Are you lost?"

He shook his head. He stared at the man, balling his hands into the skirt of his tunic.

"He appears overwhelmed," Ganondorf said, oddly soft, "Let him gather his thoughts."

-

Link shrunk away from Ganondorf’s full attention. He partly expected Navi to start speaking for him... The silence of her absence echoed like the quiet before Ganon burst from the rubble of the castle. His heart began a drum beat of “Danger, danger, danger,” in his ears.

He ran. Link ran past the crackle of fire echoing in his mind and behind his eyelids. The distressed shrieks from Zelda, unable to help, ringing in his ears.

“I stood in front of the current King, with evidence of the man’s plans in hand, and explained what I knew...” Link said, wishing that had been true.

“What? Already? You didn’t even get the big sword yet!”

“Oh, but you see...The King didn’t believe me. Put under a curse by the evil man. He was merely a puppet... But the evil man wanted more than the throne.”

-

He took in panting breaths as he stood in front of Zelda. The royal garden a soft earthy type of quiet. The twitter of birds promising calm. He closed his eyes briefly.

"Link? You're back already?"

He nodded and gasped for breath, "Ganondorf... is going to... get into the Sacred Realm."

Zelda's eyes widened, "Are you sure.... Oh... The Ocarina?"

With a nod, he let gravity take him and he plopped onto the ground.

"We must stop him then!" Zelda announced with determination.

Link smiled warily.

They had sat for hours. Zelda planned out how to deal with Ganondorf with the little information Link had been able to provide the words to explain. Exhaustion catching up with him, Link eventually fell asleep. His head on her shoulder. Her voice guiding him to kinder dreams than he'd had in a while. Even before starting his quest.

-

“The princess allowed me to sleep in one of the rooms in the castle. Although she probably didn’t need to since I usually ended up sleeping outside anyway... Got used to it. Sleeping in the big bed just felt too strange.”

“The princess seems really nice.”

Link nodded, “She is....” he sighed, “But, before we could implement our plan-”

-

He woke up to a muffled thunk. Link sat up and groggily wandered to the noise. He hadn’t thought about picking up his sword. He faltered as he noticed Ganondorf and a Gerudo woman bringing in a set of barrels.

Ganondorf turned to look at him and raised a brow. "Child. What are you doing up?"

He pointed to the barrels, brows furrowed.

"Ah, they are a gift to your King."

"It's night," Link forced out. Voice raspy. His glare strengthening.

The Gerudo King walked over to him, dramatic strides intimidating and imposing. Link scrambled to stay out of arms reach of the man. Ganondorf halted. "I get the sense you and the Princess don't like me too much."

Link distinctly regretted not grabbing his sword. His hand itched for something to hold, to protect him. "You're going to hurt people." He said in a harsh whisper, curling his fist.

"You sound so sure.... Why?"

Link looked away and took a step back.

"I don't intend to harm you, child."

"You killed the Great Deku Tree." Link hissed, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

"Ah. I didn't expect one of you to come out of that forest. Do you plan on speaking to the king? Tell him I killed a tree? I don't think he'll quite believe that... And if he did, it was one tree, do you think he'll care?"

"I'm not going to let you get into the Sacred Realm! You won't get Zelda or I to open the doors for you-"

"The Princess can open the doors?" Ganondorf grinned, "Thank you, young one, for that insight. I would have thought that particular goal lost without the Kokiri Emerald.... Now I can simply move on."

Link's eyes widened, he turned to run to Zelda. To get his sword. To do something. Ganondorf was fast. Especially so now that Link was small again. He never hated being small before this moment. He writhed against Ganondorf's grasp on his arm. He yelled and twisted and kicked.

"Stop it. You'll wake everyone up." Ganondorf snarled. He huffed, "I do hate doing this to a child but you give me no choice." He spoke in a language Link didn't understand. With a sharp jolt in the back of his head, he felt the energy sapped from him. He dropped to the ground. He felt wooden. Like a doll.

Ganondorf picked him up with ease. Dropping him over his shoulder. "It shouldn't kill you. Don't be alarmed. It took significantly more work to kill the Great Deku Tree."

Link's eyes widened. He hit Ganondorf weakly, struggling with the rest of his might. Ganondorf gave him a curious look, seemingly surprised he had even this much fight in him.

He was deposited in the bedroom the princess had given him. "Do try to get some rest, boy.... You'll need it." The door shut and locked.

Slowly, everything went dark.

-

"He cursed you?!"

Link nodded, "I later would realize that the reason I managed to stay awake as long as I did was because I had my own magic.... I had learned some spells before, but found out I could no longer do them."

The Kid frowned, "That's terrible!"

"I learned more later, it didn't entirely sap my aptitude for magic." Link glanced at his own hands. "I don't know... I don't need them as much anymore."

-

Zelda shook him awake. She shoved him to the floor in her urgency.

She pulled him up and before he was truly aware of his surroundings, he was being lifted by hands much stronger than Zelda. Link squirmed, the sleepiness draining from him quickly.

"Link wake up! Please!"

He groggily reached out to her. She gasped "Oh thank the Goddesses."

"Impa!" Zelda cried out. "My father! Where is he?"

"We don't have any more time to spare. I'm sorry Princess. We must leave. Now."

Link gasped. No no, this shouldn't be happening. It shouldn't be happening at all.

Impa ran. She remained surprisingly dexterous and agile despite carrying both children.

Link watched over Impa's shoulder as Ganondorf appeared from the door. His sword was stained red. He grinned and took large, striding steps after them. Impa threw Zelda up onto a horse. Link squirmed out of her grasp before she could toss him up with her.

"Link!" Zelda shrieked, "What are you doing?"

He took out his sword and gestured towards the gates.

"You can't!" She cried, reaching towards him. "You... you could-"

Impa spurred the horse on before she could finish. Link closed his eyes to dash out the image of Zelda's panicked face.

-

"I... never saw the Princess again for a long time after that."

Link nodded, "Eventually."

The Kid stared at him with a deep sadness. He knew he probably resonated too deeply into truth. He would have to change more in his story.

"But you did see her again. Right?"

-

Link tumbled to the ground, ignored. Ganondorf grabbed his own horse. Link roared in fury and made a leaping strike.

Zelda's scream echoed in the distance as Ganondorf clashed against his sword, creating a slash across Link's arm.

Ganondorf pushed him back before he could complete his attack. Knocking him several feet back. He scoffed, "I don't have time for you, child."

Link winced as he scrambled to a stand, listening to the clop clop of hooves. Legs shaking, he raced to the Temple of Time. He knew Ganondorf would be back. He hid behind a pillar, and waited. He could still stop it. He would just have to stop his past self from opening the doors! That could work.

-

"I ran to get the King's Mask before the evil man could. With that, he could rule the kingdom as he saw fit. Masks have great power in Termina, as symbols and sometimes magical items." He explained.

"Oh cool." The Kid leaned forward, "I wonder if any of the masks I had as a kid would be important to people in Termina..."

-

Link looked down with a soft smile, "Some of them, maybe. But anyway.... the mask was... gone, by the time I got there."

The boy ran in just as he expected, the Ocarina of Time still gripped in one hand. Link attempted to dash after him, only to he grabbed from behind. A large hand muffled him. He kicked and squirmed and bit. All it got him was a tighter hold.

“I should’ve known the royal family would send someone through time to stop me.” Ganondorf whispered to him, “I didn’t expect a child. Although, perhaps that’s all they have left.”

Link growled and knocked his head back, hitting Ganondorf’s chin. He was dropped unceremoniously. Scrambling to a stand, Link readied his sword, glancing at the spiritual stones in their places.

“Really?” Ganondorf huffed, “You think that little tumbtack will stop me?”

Link glared.

-

Ganondorf summoned his magic and Link dodged out of the way. “Hm, you learned. Good to know.” Ganondorf walked past him, and Link ran forward to attack, but was yet again thrown back by a dismissive smack. Everything after that was a hazy blur.

Link woke up to the crackle of fire and a burning sensation on his left hand.

Link was quiet for a moment, feeling the oppressive smoke and heat suffocating him. Imagery of Castle Town on fire flickering behind every blink.

The Kid frowned at him, "Are you okay?" He whispered.

Link nodded, tracing the shape of the triforce of courage on his hand. He didn't quite know how the time travel worked with the sacred relic. He glanced at his younger self. He had it too, didn't he?

"Grasshopper?"

Link took in a breath and straightened his posture, "Right. Right. I'm fine. But um. Can we finish this another time?"

The Kid nodded. He stood and stretched. "...Um, quick question... If you don't mind... Why did you leave Termina? You grew up there. And you said it's doing fine now-"

"I was looking for an old friend... Now I just want to help people here."

"Oh. You're a nice person." The Kid concluded.

"...I've been told that." Link said softly. He ruffled the Kid's hair because he knew it would annoy him. "But! It's getting dark and if you don't go back home and rest, I'm gonna go find Sheik and he'll make you sleep."

The Kid gasped in indignation. Then blinked. "Wait you can find Sheik? Really? How!?"

"Oh my Goddesses, go sleep!"

"Is he here!? Is he following me or is he just going to places I need to be before me?"

"Forget Sheik, I will drag you to the forest."

The Kid laughed, "Okay, okay."

[rosy-cheekx]

Peeling Labels

Aspec Week, Day 7: Something New-- @aspecarchivesweek

an exploration of Jon and demisexuality! As a demisexual mspec person, a lot of this is based on my own anxieties as an aspec person and not being “ace enough.” (thanks to @ombreblossom for listening to me try to parse out how being demi feels and how to word it for the fic.)

Rated T for reference to a sex dream, but no explicit language/smut words used!

-

Jon has a weird relationship with labels. Labels are good, they categorize and compartmentalize feelings, situations, states of being. An archivist’s dream, really. But when they are applied to Jon, either by himself or someone else, they feel non-Newtonian, as if holding onto the word for too long causes it to slip through his fingers.

Usually, it’s fine. He knows that labels don’t really matter, but they still feel good. It’s comforting to know that he isn’t broken or a liar or confused; there are people in the world who share a word with him. They are bonded under a flag of black, white, purple, and grey.

Jon had set the precedent quickly, with Martin, on the first night they had been in Jon’s flat, pressed against a doorframe and exploring each other with gentle urgency. “I-ah, Martin,” he had broken away from Martin’s lips, eyes shining with a mix of adoration and anxiety. “I don’t think I’ve told you before, but I’m asexual. Just-uh, well. Thought you should know.”

Martin had nodded, eyes soft and full of understanding. “Okay. Do we have a boundary I should know?” The answer was yes: anything below the belt was strictly off limits, to give or to receive. And that was that. Martin was the perfect gentleman, checking in constantly whenever they were in the heat of a moment. The rule remained and was never crossed. Rules have labels and that label was: asexual.

 Except, it wasn’t that easy. God forbid anything was easy for Jon. Labels are nice and they’re helpful to the part of Jon that craves structure, order. He’d found his ace identity while dating Georgie, after she gently asked him what was up after his third gentlemanly refusal of her advances. He had stammered out that he liked her, but didn’t want sex, at all, and he didn’t want her to be upset with him. And of course she wasn’t, because she’s Georgie, and she helped him find the word asexual, that glorious, blessed word that made so many frustrations and doubts slot into place.

Their romance didn’t end because of his aceness, far from it in fact. In fact, honestly, they were probably together as long as they were because their friendship was the strongest part of their relationship. But god, they were too similar to be in love. They were both too stubborn, too determined, unable to reach compromise when it came to the silliest things like movie nights (Jon found Georgie’s Lord of the Rings box set far too long and far too pretentious for his taste) or how their cupboards should be arranged. Their relationship was something they could win, and they were both determined to be the victor.

In the end, they both lost.

--

While Jon and Georgie had been a couple first, friends second, he and Martin had a foundation. There was friendship, shared trauma, a love that surpassed romantic and dug into something deeper. When they’re in bed and the dark is warm and heavy, limbs intertwined, Jon is reminded of the Greek myth of soulmates: a four armed, four legged being split in two, deemed to be too powerful by the gods. Sharing an essence, completing each other, making two halves whole. It makes Jon smile and kiss Martin’s forehead affectionately. They had been too powerful for the gods, hadn’t they? Unstoppable, really.

All this to say…what he has with Martin? It’s new. Something he has never experienced before. And it’s leading to a host of new, confusing experiences. He’s been in a relationship with Martin for nearly six months now. Jon really thought that at 32 years old, after battling down fear entity after fear entity in an apocalyptic hellscape, there were no new feelings he could experience. But here he was, lying awake, trying to trace patterns in the ceiling and understand the dream he had woken up from.

Not a nightmare. No, quite the opposite. Nightmares he knows how to deal with: slip out of bed, make a cup of tea or a glass of water, slip on the lamp by the bed, and cuddle into bed, reading quietly until sleep steals him away. But he does not know how to deal with this new dream of Martin, hovering above him, low voice stealing his breath and pressing kisses along his jaw, collarbone, shoulder as delicate, warm, strong hands brushed his body, dipping low with confidence. Jon woke up to a heat pooling in his core, tight and powerful, one he hadn’t experienced in such a way.

Jon has a libido, sure, but it’s always been a bodily desire, not a…what would you call this? Emotional one? He certainly never fantasized about another person, especially not someone he knew, that felt so invasive. He felt a flush heat his cheeks and chest as he pictured that image of Martin his subconscious has supplied him, above and around him with that concentration face he wears whenever he’s starting a puzzle or stuck on a particular difficult crossword, the one that always makes Jon grin and kiss his wrinkled forehead. But this one looked more heated, more filled with lust. And it… it affected him. Jon realized with a dawning that he liked it. A lot.

Jon glanced at the bedside clock and sighed at the blinking green 5:15 on the LED screen. Good a time as any to get a hot shower and let his feelings wash away with the soapy water. He extracted himself carefully from Martin’s warm arms and slipped into the ensuite, stripping to the sounds of water pounding from the showerhead and letting the steam and hot water envelop him. He scrubbed himself down harshly, watching suds rinse down his legs and down the drain, trying desperately to keep his mind off whatever that had been.

Once his skin was blotchy from heat, Jon decided he had enough. He slid into the flannel trousers he’d left abandoned on the floor of the loo and slipped back to bed, trying to do so without disrupting his sleeping boyfriend. Martin looked so lovely like this, auburn curls streaked with white plastered against the pillow and his forehead, mouth hung open and naked torso splayed so openly, so unguarded. He looked so lovely, the freckles smattered on his shoulders and stretch marks carving beautiful lines across his skin; the stars and the rivers below, a whole world in the work of art that is Martin Blackwood. How would he feel if he knew Jon had had that dream about him?

Jon’s staring, the lowercase-b-beholding of the man he loved was broken by Martin sleepily opening his eyes, a moment of confusion followed by focusing on Jon, who was kneeling on the edge of his side of the bed, captivated.

“Mmm. Hi there, love,” Martin mumbled, running a hand through his hair and sleepily glancing over at the clock. “You alright? Bad dream?”

Jon nodded; the spell broken. “Ah, yeah.” He couldn’t tell Martin, it was just a dream; he didn’t want to confuse Martin or worse, convince him he was a liar, that he wasn’t asexual, that it had all been to avoid-

Oh. Martin had spoken. He was staring at him expectantly, waiting for a response. “Sorry, say it again?” Jon asked meekly, sliding back under the covers.

“Do you want to talk about it, Jon?” The voice was patient, so patient. Jon shook his head and tucked himself into Martin’s side, tying up his damp, freshly brushed hair out of the way.

“I don’t really remember it anymore.” Lies. “It mustn’t have been that bad.” Martin’s hands were cool on his skin, still warm from the shower, as they brushed over the planes of his face in a slow way, stroking his nose and cheeks and forehead in the way Martin always did when he wanted Jon to go back to sleep. With some reservation, Jon let himself fall back against the pillows.

--

Jon thought about “The Dream” quite a bit in the week that followed. He wanted to understand it: why it had happened at all, but also, why it was still affecting him. Every so often, between emails sent and papers graded, his mind would drift back to the image of Martin, cheeks ruddy and eyes glassy, gazing down at him with such affection and Jon’s whole body would freeze up. Why was he suddenly attracted to Martin in such a new way? He loved that man with his whole being and yet, there was suddenly a new element, something unexpected, coming over the horizon. It’s been almost six months with Martin; why now?

The implications scared Jon. He had always identified as asexual; it was a core part of who he knew himself to be. Had it all been an unknowing lie? Had he just never been attracted to Georgie properly? Was it like when people get STIs; would he have to ring Georgie up and say, “hey, sorry to bother, I was never asexual, oops!”? He really didn’t want to have to do that. Would Martin be upset, angry that he had missed out on six months of potential sex just because Jon was…what? Prudish? Naïve? Afraid?

The worst part was that this…desire hadn’t come on all at once, he realized. He hadn’t even noticed the way his stomach would flip when Martin’s hands brushed his thighs, blaming his touch-based love language. It was in the way he stared at Martin when he couldn’t see it; eyes tracing his form and wondering what it would be like to feel every inch of him, in a way he had yet to experience. 

God he…had to tell Martin, didn’t he? He didn’t want to feel like a pervert in his own relationship, observing and imagining from afar without Martin’s knowledge. It felt…dirty.

--

Jon made dinner, nine days after the dream. Nothing extreme, tikka masala, rice, and garlic naan. Martin’s favorite. As he cooked, he vacillated between trying to plan out what he wanted to say and very-much-not-thinking about how the evening could end. The worst outcome, he imagined, was Martin storming out, betrayed and heartbroken. That…that probably wouldn’t happen. No, he knew Martin Blackwood. Better than anyone else in the world. That definitely wouldn’t happen. Lo-fi techno crooned through the speakers as Jon cooked and he let his thoughts float away with the music, trying to focus on the spices of dish he was making and not the knowledge that Martin would be home in ten-

Oh. Jon heard the shhlik of the door sliding against the welcome mat and felt his whole body tense up.

“Jon? You making dinner?” Martin’s voice was warm as he called through the entrance, he didn’t know yet what Jon was going to tell him, that it was all a lie-

“Yes!” Jon called back, determined to keep his voice light and casual. “Your favorite. Be ready in five, so get out of your work clothes.”

“Smells delicious,” Martin was behind him now, voice low against the shell of his ear. Jon felt a shiver run down his spine, to where his stomach and pelvis met and a ball of electricity crackled there, unbidden. Martin kissed the crook of his neck chastely and Jon froze, unsure how to reciprocate.

“You okay?” Martin’s chin was on his shoulder now, voice soft.

“Fine, fine. You smell like crayons. The cerulean one.” Jon nudged Martin away casually, trying to pass off a witty remark.

“Hazard of the job, I suppose. You know you love it,” Martin mercifully pulled his hands from Jon’s waist and retreated to the bedroom, and Jon exhaled in relief.

Jon plated the masala. Martin poured the wine. They sat down to dinner. Jon felt it all happen, was there for it all, but it passed in strange jerky stop-motion, and he couldn’t seem to slow it down. He couldn’t see to find the words, so elected for none at all, eating silently. Eye-contact would give away the anxiety brimming inside him, so he kept his eyes on his plate and the wine and the sleeve of Martin’s sweatshirt, anything but Martin’s warm hazel eyes that he knew so well.

“Jon.” He could hear it in Martin’s voice, the gentle prompting. He could hear the worry, the confusion. God, it was going to happen wasn’t it? He was going to tell Martin and what happened happened and he couldn’t do anything to change that. “How was your day?”

“I-ah. Martin.” He said, voice jerky, unable to find a rhythm that felt right. “I have something to tell you.” The words fell from his mouth in a tumble.

“Oh?”

“I. I had a dream?” Martin’s eyes widened and he set his fork down. “N-not one of the Eye’s dreams,” Jon reassures quickly. He really wished dreams weren’t such a theme in his life. “Not a statement dream, but a… different kind of dream.”

“I…I don’t follow.” Martin was confused, eyes searching Jon’s face.

“A dream…about you?” he tried, unable to add the words “sex dream” into his vocabulary quite yet.

“Oh. Oh!” Martin understood at last, eyebrows raised and forehead that adorable, confused wrinkle. “That’s, well, nice, I guess?” Jon’s face must have given way to his thoughts, as Martin tried again. “O-or maybe not?”

“Martin,” Jon steeled himself. “I…I think I’m maybe not asexual.” The words rang sharp in his ears, grating; they didn’t feel right. But it was true, wasn’t it? He didn’t know what sort of explanation there could be.

When Jon dared to look into Martin’s face, he saw an expression he didn’t know how to parse. Furrowed eyebrows, eyes searching Jon’s face, head cocked slightly. “Okay. Because of the dream?”

“Um-kind of? But also…” Jon felt blood rush through his cheeks, was certain the Desolation had picked now to tear its way through him, and was grateful. “I’ve been thinking a lot. About you. In-in ways asexual people shouldn’t. A-and I thought you should know, because I didn’t want you to think I was lying to you and I don’t want to be having those thoughts without you knowing because that feels rude, in a way? Like I set a boundary but have been crossing it in my head this whole time?” Tears stung the corners of his eyes.

Martin’s voice was even, level, hard to parse as he spoke. “Jon, can I ask you a question? Only because you seem upset and I want to try to help you.” Jon was frustrated. Why wouldn’t he have the decency to be upset? At a nod, Martin’s chair scraped backwards, and Jon found Martin kneeling him beside him, hands on his knees as Jon swiveled to face him. Taking his pockmarked hands in his own, Martin rubbed Jon’s knuckles slowly, tenderly.

“Have you ever felt those feelings before?” Jon shook his head meekly, certain the lump in his throat would betray him. “Have you had those feelings the whole time we’ve known each other? Like, since the Institute?”

This time, Jon shook his head. “Not-not until after we were dating. The safehouse, maybe?”

“This one’s gonna sound a little rude, Jon, but bear with me. Do you think you’ve ever been as emotionally close to anyone else as you are with me?” He squeezed Jon’s hands warmly, adding: “And I am with you?”

Jon shook his head. Of course not. Martin was something new to him, something untapped in the world. A treasure, a diamond in the rough. There was nothing that compared to their relationship.

“Jon. I don’t want to tell you how you identify, that’s not my place, but I, I think you’re still asexual.” Jon’s eyes snapped to meet Martin’s; it was his turn to furrow his brow. “After you came out to me, remember? I started looking into asexuality. I wanted to be able to impress you at Pride this summer,” Martin ducked his head, wincing at the cheesiness of his words. “But did you know there’s a bunch of subtypes of asexuality?”

What? This was news to Jon. There’s wanting sex and not wanting sex, right? He shook his head numbly and felt a comforting, grounding squeeze of his hands again.

“There was one I researched a little extra, because it confused me, and I wanted to understand the difference,” Martin continued, moving a hand to stroke Jon’s cheekbone, to guide his face to meet his. “Demisexual, Jon. It’s a subtype of asexuality, and it’s when-” Martin’s eyes rolled back in his head, as they were want to do when he was struggling to recite something from memory. “-you don’t even have to option to feel sexual attraction until an emotional bond is established. And it’s not, like, a one-to-one thing, either. There was a woman talking about her experience on a forum and she basically explained it like sex being a door, right? And the door has a padlock on it. Emotional connection opens the padlock, but you still have to open the door.”

Jon’s mouth was agape. He…there were so many things to parse out here. “You…you looked all this up for me?”

Martin’s cheeks pinked slightly. “I wanted to make sure I understood asexuality. It’s a whole subgroup of its own; it was interesting.” Martin had been a Researcher for a reason, Jon supposed dimly.

“I. I want to research for myself, but demisexuality?” He rolled the word in his mouth as he spoke. It felt nice, weighty. “And it’s still asexual?”

Martin nodded, vehemently, pulling out his phone as he spoke. “Yeah! Its flag is the same colors too, just arranged differently.” He showed him the white and grey flag, divided with a smooth purple stripe and a black triangle on the edge. “A-and, I mean, if you realize you’re not asexual, or you’re something else, you know I’ll still support you regardless, right? I don’t love you because of your sexuality, or your identity. I love you because you’re Jonathan Sims, and everything else besides that is bonus.”

Jon exhaled, feeling the Choke release the hold on his chest. “Demisexual. I…Thank you, Martin. For listening and believing me. I love you too.” He pressed a kiss to Martin’s forehead, carding fingers through the tumbled curls. “Let’s eat, and maybe you can show me that forum afterwards?”

[catxsnow]

MY MISTAKES J.C.

Request: Could I request a oneshot for John Constantine with a protege/child figure where they get hurt during one of the many shenanigans they've gotten up to? Reader is in their middle to late teens. Either gender neutral or female reade. Please and thank you! P.s I love ur writings.

Warning: canon-violence, swears

A/N: Did - Did I just post a fic in the middle of the day?? Yes. Yes I did. You know why? Because I’m posting a SECOND one tonight to make up for last night :) 

Alright look, I’m not gonna start writing for Constantine but this was cute so I couldn’t say no. 

Word Count: 2k

John Constantine was insane.

You had been saying it since the start of your adventures with him and the more that you were with him, the more you kept saying it. He was a crazy old fool who kept putting himself in situations what always came back to bite him in the ass.

When Zatanna dropped you off at his front door, he had no desire to take care of you. What the hell would he want with some saucy teen that would only get in his way and stop him from doing what he enjoyed most - liquor and sex. Unfortunately, he couldn't exactly say no to Zatanna, and when he saw just how powerful you were, he didn't have much of a choice.

You were young, and if that power within you wasn't controlled early, god knows what would happen. Constantine had fucked up a lot in his life, but maybe helping you was something that would make up for some of it.

So, he taught you everything that he knew - at least the not so dark aspects of it. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin the rest of your life with tainted magic that would haunt you forever. Life with you as his side wasn't all bad. He had someone to watch his back, keep him company, even boost his mood when he was down.

John faced a lot of hardships with you. A lot of the time he had no idea what the hell do to with you - comfort you, give you advice  - he wasn't good at any of that. He had to help you get through your first heartbreak, the doubt within yourself, hell he even struggled with looking you in the eyes and telling you everything was going to be okay.

He lied a lot.

You liked to consider John as more than just a mentor to you - he was your best friend. Even though there was a considerable age gap between the two of you, you were on the same level of humor and wit. A lot of the time you felt as if you were meant to be at his side. Zatanna finding you was pure accident, but being under John's protection almost seemed too good to be true.

Sure, he was fucked up in almost every way possible. He pissed everybody off, drank too much, his past was horrifying. Somehow, none of it scared you off, and in some ways, you made John a better person. To be responsible for just a kid - a 'I'm only a year and a half away from being an adult go fuck yourself' - made him get his act together.

Between making fun of his clothes, the way he talked, even his rudimentary way of living, the bond you formed was unbreakable. You would never admit it, but you looked to him as a parental figure. A fucked up parent who didn't ask to be or know what he was doing, but a parent nonetheless.

Your little 'missions' would usually leave some scrapes and bruises - most times blood of whatever victim you were killing off. For the most part, the most severe pain you had to put up with was John's hangover's. He had a lot of those. After being in this line of work for only a few years, you couldn't blame him.

Then there was the time that it was more than just a cut that could be magically healed. It was supposed to be an easy exorcism. You and John had done dozens of those which meant you went in there confident. Your guard was down and you weren't prepared for things to go sideways.

Things went bad, really bad.

John was left to make the tough call of saving the little girl that had been possessed, or saving you. He couldn't do both, he wished he could do both. However, he knew if he had saved you and not the innocent kid, you'd rip his head off. So, he had to bite the bullet and watch as you fell to the ground screaming and he saved the girl.

Sitting in this hospital with you unconscious on the bed, wires hooked up to you that weren't really doing anything against the magic coursing through you, he wished he made the other choice. Throughout all his years he had sacrificed lives to save his own skin, why did he start now with saving you?

"Shoulda never let Z to convince me to take you," John scoffed to himself. He wasn't strong enough to heal you, not by himself. His energy was already drained from taking care of the demon from earlier, he wasn't sure if he could do any magic at that point. "Can't tell if it was me or you that was the dumb one, huh?"

He felt like a fool talking to you. Obviously you couldn't hear a word he was saying, but part of him was just hoping you did. Maybe it brought him comfort, maybe he was just an old coot who didn't know how to accept this worry running through him. Either way, grabbing onto your cold hand sent chills up his spine.

"I'm sorry," John's eyes sealed shut. His fists gripped the edge of your bed as he tried to keep himself level headed. The demon that did this to you faced a fate worth than death for what it did. "I shouldn't have dragged you along, you deserve a better life. Not one with me leading you. I've made a fuck ton o' mistakes and I guess now you're one of 'em."

When his eyes peeled back open, a few stray tears slipped down his cheeks. John had faced a lot of evil in his life, he was so used to death and destruction that it no longer fazed him. Guess you made a little weak spot in his heart. For the first time in a long time, John felt grief for someone who wasn't even dead yet. He was scared.

"Never thought I'd see the day that John Constantine cries over someone." John looked up in the reflection of the window. He hastily wiped away his wet cheeks and scrambled up to his feet to see his visitor. Zatanna looked between him and you. "How are they?" Concern filled her voice.

"Needs help," John stared down at you. Zatanna stood on the opposite side of the bed. She placed her hand over yours, the unfamiliar lack of power caught her off guard. "Your help, I'm too drained to do any magic, at least by myself. I can't let them suffer like this, not for my mistakes."

"I know, John," Zatanna assured. Constantine wasn't sure how she knew that the two of you had gotten in trouble or exactly which hospital you were in. At that moment, he didn't care. He was more happy to see her than he ever had in his entire life. Zatanna could save you, if there was anyone out there that could, it was her.

"Let's get to work."

><

"I'm fine John, would you fuck off?"

John never thought he'd see the day where he was happy to hear you lip him off. In all your time together the second that you retorted any snide comment towards him, he would scowl. Now, he couldn't hold back a smile. He had been worried about you, more worried than he was for anyone.

Zatanna was the one to really save you. She had overworked herself to bring you back to the land of the living. It was worth it, she saw a lot of greatness within you. You rubbed off on John, he was becoming a different man than she knew a lot of her life. He was better with you at his side. Zatanna feared what he would become if he lost you - especially when it was his fault.

When you finally made it back home, John hovered over you like a mother bear. He didn't let you leave the house and he certainly didn't allow you to join him for any missions until you were 100% again. It was beyond frustrating for you, but you had to admit you were glad to see that someone cared about you this much.

You were bed ridden for a few days. Too weak to get up unless necessary but strong enough to get yourself out of the damned hospital. John became your 'bitch boy' for those days and you made sure to take well good advantage of it. By the time that you were up and walking, you had gotten annoyed of his hovering.

"'scuse me for being worried," John rolled his eyes. "Don't happen to often you know, you should be considered lucky."

"Lucky?" You scoffed. You hadn't tested your magic yet, your whole body still felt weak and you weren't about to put yourself back into a comma just to see if you could light John's cigarette with the snap of your fingers. "Anything involving you is far from lucky. I should be considered dead is what I should be."

He pulled a smoke out of his pocket, he forgot how peaceful it was without your comebacks. You narrowed your eyes as he lit it up and took a drag. Constantine knew that you hated when he smoked inside and yet he continuously did it anyways.

So, to test out how strong you were getting, you tried to disintegrate his cigarette. Your eyes narrowed with concentration and somehow, it had worked. John cried out as his cigarette suddenly burst into flames and fell to dust on the floor. You felt fatigued by the small spell, but at least you were getting back to normal.

Constantine glared at you. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out another one. Without breaking eye contact, he lit it up and took another breath of the nicotine.

"Twat," you muttered. The petty side of him was something that would never go away - no matter how close to death either of you were. It was who he was. John missed seeing your smiling face in the few days that you were out. He never realized the comfort that it brought him.

Without another word, you sluggishly walked back to your bedroom. You needed rest, as much as you tried to deny it. Zatanna had done a good job of fixing you up but you still had a long way to go. It was going to take time, but you knew damn well that John was going to be at your side through it all -whether you wanted him to be or not.

"Berk!" Constantine yelled after you. A smile toyed at his lips. As much as you did fight and bicker with him, he couldn't imagine what his life would be like without you in it now. Never in his life did he imagine he'd be some sort of father figure, with you... he enjoyed it. He was proud of you.

The thought of losing you to some stupid mistake that he made nearly destroyed him. He took you in to make his wrongs right and he would have lost all of that alongside with you. But, it was more than that. Constantine cared for you, losing you meant he would be losing a piece of himself.

There was already so much of him tainted by the evil of the world, he couldn't bare the thought of losing the little good part of his soul. As much as he hated to admit it, John needed you far more than you ever needed him.

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

dings a rinky triangle right next to your head Hi guys, it's fic time! I actually put this up last night but I'm telling you right now. It's had a few hours to cool, like a pie out of the oven, but made of words. This chapter will actually contain mentions of ssssself harm, so viewer beware, i guess.

His world stays dark, even though he knows he’s opened his eyes. He tries to understand that, brain feeling foggy. He must be somewhere dark. He’s laying on his back. He can hear muffled voices, maybe, over him? He’s under something. He lays there, listening, but he’s too tired to even try to understand, and the voices are too muffled to be anything recognizable. Maybe, if he really strains, he can hear a familiar voice, or someone who sounds like his baby sister, but the only word he manages to understand is “invisible.”

He falls back into a restless sleep.

The next time he’s able to shake exhaustion from his mind, he tries to sit up. It’s easier than he thought it might be. This time, more aware of himself, his body feeling less destroyed, he actually tries to understand where he is. It feels like he’s laying in dirt, or under dirt, in a mountain of it, the usual soft scent of freshly turned earth overpowering. It still hurts to move, but he forces himself to, clawing upwards, through the dirt, until he reaches a wooden plank, which he goes through, like he’s not even there.

It’s a box, containing something foul smelling. A coffin… he’s inside a coffin. Juno buried him below a pine box, in someone else’s grave. The inside of it stinks, like decay and chemicals, and he doesn’t stop to take in whoever this used to be, just pushes up, and out, until he emerges from the ground like a zombie, like Night of the Living Dead. The ground around him is grown over with grass, and he grabs at it, using it as much as he can, as he crawls from someone’s grave, until finally, he pulls himself free from the earth, and lays there, taking breaths he doesn’t need, to clear the smell of the body from his nose. His suit and trench coat are filthy, but that barely registers, at this point. There are more important things to worry about, like getting home- He sits up, catches sight of the gravestone.

Emily Deetz Devoted Wife, Beloved Mother “Whom Most We Love Reach First the Golden Gate, Leaving Us Desolate”

He stares at the etching on the stone, and feels something in his mind snap, like a rubber band stretched too tight. He’s seeing the world through a fisheye lens, his vision distorted, blurry, as he tries to understand exactly what just happened. Juno made him crawl out of his own mother’s grave. The body he still reeks of was Emily’s. He sits there, a long time, not feeling much of anything, only able to stare, replaying that memory, over and over, and the only thing that makes him move is the sudden realization of what grass over a grave could mean. Emily’s been buried long enough for it to grow. How long has it been since he’s been home? He does his best to push this fun new trauma down, as far as it will go. He’s got to get back to his family. What’s left of it, he thinks, humorlessly.

He stands, off balance, and wipes some of the dust and dirt from his face, and finds that, annoyingly, his glamour has slipped, and it refuses to reapply. Maybe he’s too drained, though he’s not sure how he’s going to get back home, clearly looking as deranged as he must. He’s too exhausted to teleport, and he wanders around the cemetery, avoiding the few people there as much as he can, as the sun dips low, and vanishes. At least by that point he can force his teeth and ears to resemble normal human’s. The moss and eyes, well, he’s too worn down to care. So he’ll look like an extra grubby hobo, he thinks. That’ll have to be his new look, for now.

He reaches a gate, and leans on it, and then falls through it, and blinks, confused. He’s never been intangible by accident, before. Usually it takes concentration to make his solid form incorporeal. He stands, straightens out his suit collar, adjusts his sleeves, fiddles with his tie, as he thinks. There’s got to be someone around here who can call his family for him, or at the very least, a cab. The cemetery is growing darker, and his attention is drawn to the far off flicker of candles. He feels a pull, and he approaches, taking in what he sees.

It’s a group of five teenagers with an Ouija board. Predictable. He snorts, and expects that sound to alert the kids to his presence, but they don’t even turn to see what the noise could be. He steps closer, until he’s fully illuminated by the glowing ring of candles around them, and he tries to be friendly. “Hey, just a normal livin’ adult human man, in a cemetery, at night, approachin’ a group of children. You kids wanna be helpful an’ call me a cab?” BJ tries, but he’s ignored. The kids don’t even look in his direction. He remembers being a snot nosed teen, but this is a bit much. His blood boils, and he leans down, claps his hands in one of the teen’s faces, and she responds to that, but not in the way he wants. “I think I just felt a cold spot!” she tells her friends. “In front of my face, just now!” “Calm down with that,” a red haired girl shoots her a look. “We haven’t even started yet, and you’re already having a spiritual experience. Yeah, right.” “No you guys, really!”

“Lookit me,” he interrupts them. The children continue to squabble. His gut clenches. “Look at me!” he demands, storming to the center of the circle, and kicking at their stupid board game. His boot goes through it. They don’t react. Why would they, he realizes, sinking to sit on top of the board.

He’s invisible.

He tries to recall everything Juno had said, as he’d struggled to keep conscious, while impaled. Loneliness. Invisibility, being at the command of the living. Being… forgotten. No, no, NO- His impending freak out is stymied when he feels hands go through him, and he shoots up, hovering over the board game, as the teens below him react. “Oh my god, total cold spot! Should we like, make a note of that?” “Come on, come on, let’s start, while there’s still someone or something here!”

The five teens lean forward, each placing fingers on the planchette. “Is there anyone here?” one of them asks.

Betelgeuse stares, and feels a tug, again, clearly coming from the board. He knows some demons use these things to play with their food, before they eat, so he gives it a go, and floats over the game, head down, feet in the air, like he’s diving underwater. Maybe these kids can actually help him. He pushes the planchette with one finger, to land on “Yes.”

“Did you do that?” one boy asks, and the group devolves into the kids blaming each other, and he rakes his hands down his face, and tries to move the planchette, again, but they’re too busy squabbling, they’re not touching it anymore. Fuck, this is frustrating. He’s never wanted a group of teenagers to drop dead as badly as he does right now. Finally, they put their hands back on the pointer, and ask another question. “Are you friendly?”

This time, he pushes the planchette to spell, instead. “S-U-R-E.” “That doesn’t instill a lot of confidence,” the redhead from before mutters. “What do you want?” He nudges the pointer along, painstakingly slow. “H-O-M-E.” “You want to go home?” “YES.”

“For fuck sake, yes,” he groans, and then perks as one asks, “How can we help you?” Well… he’s not actually sure. He squints, trying and failing to recall everything Juno had said. How is he supposed to work with this curse thing, when he doesn’t know the rules? He digs his hands in his pockets, frustrated, and then blinks, because there’s what feels like a business card there, one that he doesn’t remember. He pulls the paper from his pocket, studies it.

BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE

He remembers the way Juno had chanted his name, before he’d lost consciousness. That must be it, then. His name is his burden.

“M-Y-N-A-M-E-T-H-R-E-E-T-I-M-E-S”

“Oh, wait, wait, guys, I’ve heard of this,” one of the girls gasps. “Demonic entities, they have you do things in threes, to mock the trinity, you know, father, son, and holy ghost. It’s a demon thing! We might be talking to a non-human spirit!” “That means we can’t trust it, right?” A boy asks, and they all look uneasy. He steers the planchette around the board, desperate. “W-A-N-N-A-H-O-M-E-P-L-Z.” The redhead wrinkles her nose. “Do demons use chat speak?” she asks, glancing around the group.

“O-H-M-Y-G-O-D-U-K-I-D-S-A-R-E-K-I-L-L-I-N-M-E.”

“I’m not afraid. Tell us your name, spirit!” a boy calls, and he gives the planchette a push, intent on spelling it. The pointer doesn’t move. “Come the fuck on!” he growls, but it doesn’t matter how much strength he puts into the action, he can’t move the dinky plastic piece to spell out his name.

“Spirit? You there?”

“F-U-C-K,” he spells out, in a rage, because this is pointless, he’s too exhausted and sore to think of how to make this work, and he just wants to go home, and see what’s left of his family. He growls again, and then snuffs all the candles in the circle, all at once, causing the kids to scream, and scramble, and that, at least, forces a rictus grin from him. He’s always enjoyed the sounds of terror. He leaves the children tripping over themselves in the dark, and decides he’s going to have to make his way home the old fashioned way- floating. At least he doesn’t have to walk, he supposes, tucking his legs under himself, and he floats invisibly out of the cemetery, and down the sidewalk, trying to focus on how good it will be to see Lydia and Charles, and not on how they won’t see him, and especially not on how every part of him, physically, emotionally, mentally, is hurting. read the rest over here~ If you're totally lost, I find starting at the beginning of something often makes the middle of something make better sense. So you can start at the very beginning right HERE

[lupin-for-president]

Pretty Pink Paper

(Jeddy)

—

James Sirius knew it was foolish, falling in love with his blue-haired best friend, who also happened to be seven whole years older than him. It was the type of situation that would only end up hurting James in the end, he knew that better than anyone.

But he just couldn’t help it.

It was impossible for him not to fall in love Teddy—especially with the way Teddy acted around him. The way Teddy spoke to him. The way Teddy touched him. The way Teddy smiled at him. The way Teddy looked at him.

Teddy treated James like he was the most important person on the entire earth.

And James drank it up like honey.

Everything about Teddy was so addicting to him. There wasn’t a single thing about the scrawny little punk that James didn’t wholeheartedly love and adore.

The way Teddy always laughed —a little too hard— when James would be the one to tell him a cheesy joke.

How Teddy would always match his eye color to his outfit and make sure to ask James’ opinion on it before leaving the house.

The way Teddy’s nose would scrunch up whenever James would be applying his blush and eyeliner for him, muttering a “Hold still, Ted” as he held the cap between his teeth.

How Teddy’s arms felt draped loosely over James as he leaned over to show the boy how to play a certain piano chord correctly.

The way Teddy would struggle to stay awake throughout an entire movie —no matter the time of day— and always ended up falling asleep on James’ shoulder.

How Teddy would use any spare minute of his free time to teach James more new tricks to do on his broom so that he could impress his friends.

The way Teddy would stick out his lip —and beg and plead— until James finally caved in and played with or braided his hair, Teddy smiling smugly at the tiny victory.

How everytime Teddy was upset, the first person he would go to would be James, and he would bury his face into his chest and cry until he felt better.

The way Teddy would interrupt James’ reading by running into his room and playing air guitar while singing at the top of his lungs.

How Teddy made a chocolate cupcake for James’ birthday every single year —refusing help from anyone else in the house— and ended up burning it each and every time.

The way Teddy ruffled a hand through James’ messy brown hair every time he walked past him, flashing him a cheeky closed eye grin as he did so.

How Teddy was always there, no matter what.

It wasn’t James’ fault that he fell in love with Teddy. It was the cruel fault of the universe for having put someone so exceptionally perfect into his life, then expecting him not to be affected by it.

It was James’ fault, however, that Teddy happened to find out about these feelings.

Teddy shouldn’t have been sneaking around in James’ room, sure, but James was the one that had forgotten to put the old, tattered brown shoebox back in its hiding place under his bed.

That exact brown shoebox was the very gateway to the most extreme form of embarrassment that James Sirius had ever had the displeasure of facing throughout his entire sixteen years of life.

It was the shoebox full of his love letters, all of which were —very blatantly— addressed to Teddy.

He had just celebrated his birthday a week prior and he was more than thrilled to be lounging at home during his summer break from Hogwarts. He and Teddy had been basically inseparable since the beginning of summer —not that that was anything new— and James was genuinely very happy.

That is, until he came back up to his room from having grabbed a plate of cookies in the kitchen, only to find Teddy —sitting on the edge of James’ bed, a brown shoebox in his lap, and pink slips of paper in his hands— with furrowed brows and his lip tucked between his teeth.

Teddy hadn’t heard James come in at first. In fact, he didn’t even know he had entered the room until the sound of glass shattering pierced through the air, James having dropped his plate full of cookies due to the sudden trembling of his hands.

A small piece of James was hoping —praying— to whatever gods above that maybe Teddy hadn’t really read any of the letters at all. But from the wide eyed, red faced look that Teddy gave him upon getting caught, what little hope James had flickering inside him was immediately distinguished.

He felt sick, nauseous, and insanely lightheaded as he bolted out of the door, making a beeline for the bathroom. A singe of pain surged up from the bottom of his foot as he realized he had stepped on a shard of the broken plate during his hasty escape, but he didn’t dare pause to check it.

He could hear the heavy footsteps following quickly after him —and the faint shouting, too— though it was muffled from the pounding of his heartbeat ringing in his eardrums. As soon as he made it to the bathroom, he shut the door and pushed his foot up against it, turning the lock just in time to be greeted by a chorus of loud banging.

“Jamie! Jamie, open up!” Teddy shouted from the other side, hands bashing against the wood.

James couldn’t answer due to him falling to his knees in front of the toilet and emptying out the contents of what was —most likely— his breakfast from earlier. He didn’t stop hurling until there was absolutely nothing left, his forehead drenched in sweat as he panted to catch his breath.

“Open the door, Jamie! Come on, it’s me. Just open the door, we can talk this out!” Teddy blurted, his hard knocks not missing a beat.

“Go away,” James answered back weakly, his voice strained.

Rivers were trailing down his cheeks now, dripping into the corners of his cracked lips. As the sobs wracked through his body, he pulled his knees up firm against his chest, fingers digging deep into his upper arms as he tried to calm himself down. A small pool of blood started forming under his right foot from the cut, which only caused his blood pressure to spike even more as he glanced down at it.

It had been a while since he had experienced a panic attack that was this bad. It had actually been almost a full year, in fact.

Normally, the only thing that would successfully calm him down was if Teddy cupped his face firmly in his hands and whispered countless soothing words to him as he forced him to maintain eye contact. Teddy would always constantly switch the color of his irises —sometimes even making them swirl— in order to make James’ attention focus on anything else but the initial cause of the attack.

But this time, Teddy was the cause of it.

And now James was having to calm himself back down all on his own.

And it wasn’t working.

And he couldn’t breathe.

And his chest hurt so bad.

And all he could think of was the sight of Teddy.

Brown shoebox sitting in his lap.

Pink slips of paper in his hands.

Reading each and every one of James’ sinful and foolish desires.

And the thought of Teddy being absolutely disgusted with James for even daring to think about him in even the slightest bit of a romantic way plagued James’ poor mind.

It was all too much.

And the world felt like it was spinning.

And the only thing keeping him rooted was the pain from his nails digging into his skin and the sound of Teddy’s worried screams.

It felt like it went on for hours.

But that’s because it did.

Ginny finally came home from training four hours later to find a shaking and stressed Teddy, tear tracks tattooing his flushed cheeks as he hysterically explained what had happened and how he had tried to use a spell to unlock the bathroom door but that he couldn’t even think straight enough to use it and James had been quiet for a long time now and he was so bloody worried that he had done something while locked in there by himself and he couldn’t break into the bathroom to check on him and his mind was reaming with the worst possibilities and—

Ginny cut him off with a hug, giving his torso a quick squeeze before pulling back and asking which bathroom James had locked himself in. Teddy shakily informed her it was the guest bathroom on the second floor, and the two of them raced up the stairs to see what could be done.

Of course, Ginny was able to cast the spell perfectly on her first try —it was a spell she had learned in her first year at Hogwarts after all— and the pair both let out the greatest sigh of relief when the door creaked open to reveal a sleeping James, seemingly unharmed apart from the gash on the bottom of his foot.

Ginny crouched down beside him, pressing a hand to his forehead gently before brushing away some of the hair in his eyes.

Teddy recognized that helpless and drained look of James’ unconscious body instantly. It was a look only he was exceptionally familiar with. He had seen it quite often —more often than he would like— whenever he would cradle James after he had tired himself out from an attack, immediately falling asleep against Teddy’s chest. Teddy was always the one there to make everything better.

But this time, that wasn’t the case.

“It’s all my fault,” Teddy whispered, his voice raw, “This is all my fault.”

“Teddy, honey, no,” Ginny shook her head, standing up to place a hand on Teddy’s flushed cheek. “It was an accident. You didn’t know what was going to be in that box.”

“It doesn’t matter what was in the fucking box,” he breathed, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t have been snooping through his stuff anyways. If I hadn’t, then he wouldn’t have caught me, and then he wouldn’t have had a panic attack without anyone here to—”

“Teddy,” Ginny cut him off, “We can play the blame game later, alright?”

“But—”

“No.” She shook her head. “Not right now. Please, can you just carry James to his room? Then you need to go get some rest, too. Before Harry comes home with questions as to what’s going on with his sons.”

Teddy stared at her for a moment before nodding, stepping around her and towards James’ sleeping form.

Regardless of being a grown man, he still found himself always listening to Ginny’s orders, no matter what.

He knelt down and looped an arm under James’ legs, his other wrapping securely around his back. He rose to his feet slowly, not wanting to wake the snoozing boy in his arms. Much to his surprise, James subconsciously buried his face into the front of Teddy’s sweater, releasing an incomprehensible string of murmurs before relaxing in Teddy’s arms once again.

Teddy nearly started crying again right there.

He silently brushed past Ginny and down the hallway, towards James’ bedroom. Upon entering, he made sure to stay clear of the broken glass littering the doorway.

He laid James down in bed gently, pulling his wand out of his back pocket and waving it strategically at the wound on James’ foot, watching as it immediately scarred up, all traces of blood vanishing. He then turned towards the broken plate and crumbled cookies on the floor, flicking his wand to gather the remnants up and —ever so gracefully— discarding them into the trash can.

Running a hand through his bright blue hair, he turned back to James, his eyes trailing all across his young, peaceful face. He tugged the blankets up over his sleeping form, tucking him in nice and warm. Brushing his fingertips along James’ forehead, Teddy leant down, moving the messy brown curls away to expose his smooth tan skin.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered —hardly above a whisper— as his lips ghosted against James’ forehead, “I am so sorry, James Sirius.”

When he pulled away, the cause of this entire dilemma caught in the corner of his eye. The brown shoebox that was still placed on the corner of James’ bed. Teddy knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but to reach out for it anyways, his hand diving in and grabbing the first piece of pretty pink paper that was sitting right on top.

All at once, Teddy felt his world shatter as his eyes took in the messy scrawl. He even had to place a hand over his mouth to muffle the sob that threatened to break through, a single tear descending from the corner of his eye.

The last part of the love letter read:

“One of these days you’re going to find all of these, and I need you to promise me something when that time comes. Please, don’t blame yourself for the attack I have afterwards, because I can assure you it isn’t your fault.”

Teddy shoved the note into his pocket before closing the box and sliding it back under James’ bed. Sending one last glance to his sleeping best friend, he silently left the room, doing his best not to blame himself for everything that had happened.

Just like James had asked.

[theshrubbery]

Here’s my new snowbaz fic!!

Summary: Back at Watford I was always on the ball with these things. I spent years suspecting he was a vampire and yet here I am, completely oblivious. Sometimes I feel as though I left all of that at Watford, like Baz took on a new identity when we left, like that’s an old life that I’m not a part of anymore.

Sometimes I forget that I’m not the only one with scars. My tail flicks pointedly.

Or; 5 times Simon forgot that Baz was a vampire, and 1 time he didn't.

________________________________________________________________

Baz has been gone for far too long. He’s never out this long. Especially not when he has uni the next day. It’s way past midnight, probably past one now. I haven’t checked in a while because that would mean I have to stop pacing long enough to look.

He should be back by now. Where is he?

He said he’d be back over an hour ago and he’s not answering his phone. It’s just ringing straight through to voicemail - he doesn’t even have the excuse that it’s died. Unless he’s lost it? But that’s unlikely. Baz never loses anything, Merlin knows how.  

I can’t take much more of this. I stop pacing, growl in frustration, run my hands through my hair and then slide my phone out of my pocket.

he’s still not back pen I type out quickly, sending it to Penny. She’s at home visiting her parents for the weekend, it’s her mum’s birthday. I’d give anything to have her here now, she always knows what to do. Unlike me. So much for being the chosen one, Merlin and Morgana I can’t do anything on my own.

Give him a little longer. Penny texts back in reply. I rush to unlock my phone so I can read it in full. Don’t go looking for him. Not with your tail and wings out.

Frustration bubbles up from my stomach to my chest. I hate this. I hate that I can’t just go out like a normal person. I hate that I can’t even open the door for a bloody delivery driver anymore without someone spelling all my extra parts invisible first. It’s demeaning and ridiculous and I feel like a ninny.

I clench my teeth and walk stiffly over to the table, finishing off the dregs of a bottle of cider - my third one of the night. So far. I shake the bottle a few times over my open mouth and then slam it down and continue to pace. At least it’s gotten me off the sofa, I suppose.

My stomach is in absolute knots. I’m so worried over this it’s making it ache. It doesn’t matter that we’re living safely amongst Normals, anything could have happened. It’s not like the underbelly of the Magickal world pays any attention to the rules.

Then, just as I really am about to go insane with worry, there’s a dull thump at the door. It rattles on its hinges, like someone’s thrown themselves against it and all I can think is I swear Baz took his keys when he left.

I rush to look through the keyhole, just in case. It’s a habit Baz and Penny absolutely drilled into me so that I didn’t swing the door open to anyone with my wings out.

It’s Baz. Oh, great snakes. Thank Merlin. Though the relief is short lived.

I yank the door open and my heart instantly drops to somewhere near my intestines.

Baz is heaving for breath, one arm clutching his bloodied shirt and the other hanging limply at his side, his wand in his hand. His clothes are dirty and torn, blood is puddling slowly at the floor by his feet. I’m having trouble breathing. It’s like the fight with the Mage all over again, it’s Ebb’s dead body.

Baz mutters a spell under his breath, I don’t catch what it is but it magicks the floor clean. Has he been doing that the entire way up here? Surely that’s draining way more magic than it’s worth! Energy that Baz could be better using to just concentrate on getting to the flat and not dying in the process.

“You goin’ to… You going to let me in or what?” Baz slurs, catching himself halfway through and fighting to get the words out. He’s gritting his teeth, his perfect mouth is stained red. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Baz slur, it’s disconcerting. I’ve known him most of my life and in all that time his enunciation was always near perfect at the worst of times, impeccable at the best. It’s part of what makes him so talented with magick.

“Oh fuck. Baz? Baz, what happened?” I rush out, distantly noticing I’m swearing like a Normal from the stress. My hands flutter around Baz, I don’t know where I should touch him, I don’t know if I can touch him. What if I make it worse? What if I hurt him?

“I got jumped,” Baz tells me, starting to shoulder his way past me and into the flat. “I got stabbed. Quite a few times, actually.”

I block the way, glad that Baz doesn’t seem to have the strength to boulder his way past me.

“Oh, god. We need to go to the hospital.” I dart to the dish on the hallway side, my vision tilting in panic as I grab my keys and wallet. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe what we’ve fought together and he’s been so badly maimed by muggers. This might even beat the Numpties incident. I can’t believe I’m thinking something like that at a time like this - this isn’t the time for jokes. Oh, god.

“I’m not going,” Baz says, pushing past me. I grab his shoulders to stop him, and then let go with a sickened jolt when he winces.

“Stop being stupid, Baz. Hospital. Now.” Baz leans his forearm on the door-frame and begins to bow over himself, groaning. My heart is hammering a mile a minute. “Look at you, you’re bleeding to death!”

Baz snorts. “If only.”

“What?”

“Merlin and Morgana, just let me in.” Baz spells the floor clean again. “Hurry up, before someone sees you.”

“But the-”

“Simon.” Baz lifts his bowed head to look at me, his forehead is crinkled. “Trust me. Don’t-” he breaks off with a load moan of pain, turning to rest his forehead on the arm holding him up against the frame.

“Baz!” My voice is shaking so hard it’s difficult to imagine I ever stood up to dragons, if this is all it takes to bring me down. To be fair, I think I’d go down with a lot less, too, these days.

“I need to lay down,” Baz says faintly. I really don’t like this. I mean, who would? But this is terrifying. It’s always Baz cleaning up after me, Baz patching me up, Baz is never the one as vulnerable as this. I don’t like it, I hate it, and I hate that I don’t have a single clue what to fucking do.

“Fine. Fuck. Okay, come on,” I stutter out. I take Baz’s wand, ignoring the pang in my chest at holding it, and sling his arm over my shoulders. I lead him into the flat, kicking the front door closed behind us, and walk us slowly to the sofa.

Baz staggers his way over, holding out his other arm and grabbing at things as we pass them. He grabs the back of a chair, the sideboard, the back of the sofa. He’s leaving blood stains but I don’t care.

“Easy, Snow,” Baz says as I lower him down, as gently as I possibly can. Baz’s eyes look a little glazed and I feel sick.

“I got you,” I tell him quietly. I put his wand on the coffee table.

“Your hands’re shaking,” Baz mumbles, his words stringing together, like that’s the most important fucking thing to be realising right now. Maybe he’s going into shock? I really doesn’t know what to do. I needs Penny. Penny would know what to do.

Once he can feel the sofa beneath him, Baz lays himself down and I lift both his legs up onto the sofa for him. I try to make him as comfortable as possible despite the way they hang, lanky, over the arm. Or as comfortable as one can be when he’s fucking bleeding out and refusing to get any medical attention .

“Do you need anything?” I ask quickly, already pulling my phone out to scroll for Penny’s number.

“Towel or something, please. Just to soak the blood.”

“Okay, love. Okay. I got it. I’ll be right back.” I kiss his forehead and rush off, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder as I crash my way into the bathroom and start rummaging around for towels and anything that might possibly help.

“Simon? What is it?” Penny's tinny voice asks. Not even a hello, that’s so typical, straight to the point. Right now I’m extremely thankful for it. I pull a plastic bowl out of the sink and throw some towels in it as I reply.

“Baz’s hurt. He got jumped. I think he’s been stabbed.”

“Merlin, stabbed? How is that possible? Is he alright?”  

“He’s bleeding bad and refusing to go to hospital.” I throw a half empty packet of plasters in my bowl as though they’ll help anything. “I don’t know what to do, Pen.”

“I mean… He can’t go to hospital anyways, Simon. He should be fine unless it was some special sort of weapon. I mean, I can’t think of many ways that a knife can actually kill a vampire.” And then the other shoe drops.

“Oh, shit,” I swear, realisation washing over me in a great big wave of Simon you complete buffoon.

“What is it?”  

“A vampire. Great snakes, Pen, I forgot he was a bloody vampire!”

“Oh, Simon,” Penny says with a sigh. Though there’s still a worried edge to her voice. “No wonder you were worrying so much.”

“Now it makes sense why he wouldn’t go to hospital.”

“Go and look after him, Simon. He’ll be alright. Just keep him comfortable and he’ll be healed up in no time. If he’s still not healed by the time I come back home I’ll sort him out.”

“I will. Sorry, Pen. For disturbing you so late. But- thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s what I’m here for.” There’s a muted beep as she hangs up the phone, and I shove it back in my pocket. I feel like a complete idiot. Vampire. How on earth could I possibly forget that? I’m going to blame it on my panic. I’m going to blame it on the fact Baz doesn’t hang from walls and kidnap virgin maidens to drain their blood, the fact he doesn’t turn into a bat.

Or at least not that I’m aware of.

I take the towels and box of plasters out of the empty bowl and fill it with warm water out the bathroom tap instead, then carry all of it back to the sofa and set it out on the floor next to Baz.

He’s still lying exactly how I left him, though with one arm draped over his eyes, the other clutching in a white-knuckled grip at his torso.

“Took you long enough,” Baz says in a low voice. It almost sounds like a groan.

“Sorry, Baz.” I kneel down, my legs tucked under me. “I completely forgot about the whole… Vampire thing.”

“Vampire thing,” he parrots back. “Right. So I heard. That would explain things.” Guilt rushes through my system, heats my cheeks. Of course he heard me on the phone. Back at Watford I was always on the ball with these things. I spent years suspecting he was a vampire and yet here I am, completely oblivious. Sometimes I feel as though I left all of that at Watford, like Baz took on a new identity when we left, like that’s an old life that I’m not a part of anymore.

Sometimes I forget that I’m not the only one with scars. My tail flicks pointedly.

“Does it hurt?” I ask him, dunking a towel in the water. “How did it even happen?”

Baz nods and makes a small noise deep in his throat. “Yeah. It hurts. It probably will for a few hours, then it’ll mostly just be itchy. I’ll heal in no time. The only reason I’m even bleeding like this is because I’d just fed - I’ll have to go again once this is sorted.”

“But how did it happen? Was it another vampire?” Surely there has to be more to the story than this. Baz looks uncomfortable, if a little sheepish.

“Just your average alleyway muggers, really.” I raise my eyebrows.

“Crowley.” I curse. “How’d you manage that?”

“I didn’t want to hurt them,” Baz admits with a wince, lowering his arm and staring up at the ceiling. “It would, of course, been fairly easy to tear them to shreds with my bare hands. But that isn’t something I was willing to do.”

“Christ, Baz. There’s going easy on people and then there’s this.” I let go of the towel and gesture sweepingly across Baz’s abdomen and chest. “They shouldn’t have been able to leave this much damage on you.”

Baz looks distant, like he’s weighing things up in his head. I hate that look. It means he’s deciding how much I need to know.

We haven’t really been getting along as well as we used to, recently. Or maybe, it’s just hard to transition from sworn enemies to boyfriends in the matter of a few days. We’ve only been out of Watford a couple of months, but it’s been difficult for us. At first we couldn’t stop kissing and groping for long enough to watch a full episode of the Bake Off but recently it’s like there’s some invisible wedge growing between us.

I still love him, I’m sure of it. I think he loves me, too. But I don’t know what I’m doing. What we’re doing. We need to talk, communicate, but I’m terrified that if we do he’ll leave me. So I just let the divide deepen, and hate myself for it the entire time.

Looking at Baz now, though, I’m scared that I’m looking at the same Baz that tried to set himself alight in the woods. He has issues too, he just hides them better than I do. I feel like such a shit boyfriend, I can’t help him. One day he’ll realise he’s better than me, that I’m not good enough. But I don't want him to go, and that's selfish.

“I didn’t want to hurt them,” Baz repeats after a long silence. “Either way, they were pretty scared by the fact I stayed on my feet for so long.”

“Of course they were, if you were normal you’d be dead.”

Baz immediately flinches, his smirk drops along with my stomach.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” I say quickly, but the words catch in my throat and sound like an insincere stutter. “You are normal. For you, I mean.”

Baz sighs. For a second I think he’s going to punch me, but then I realise it’s the opposite. He deflates; his pinched brow and glazed eyes are the fight leaving him.

“Help me out of this shirt,” he says, letting it go.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“But I’m not normal, am I? Not for me. I wasn’t born this way, I was made. It was forced on me,” he quips. Sharp and fast and unfaltering. His eyes are blazing again.

“I-”

“It’s fine.” As quickly as the sparks catch they return to ash again. I really am sorry though. He won’t let me say it, not out loud, so I carry it like a mantra through my thoughts; I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry. “Help me with the shirt. Please, love.”

I bite my lip, but the endearment melts me a little. I know that it’s genuine, even if there is a whole void of unsaid things drifting between us. I reach for the buttons, undoing them as best I can with how my hands are shaking. I have to fight to keep my wings still, my tail, but it’s a losing battle. It’s written all over my body how agitated and nervous I am.

The shirt (the white shirt, why Baz hunts in a white shirt is beyond me) is torn across the chest and stomach, and as I undo the buttons and push the sides apart, my hand accidentally slides through the slash. Baz flinches, though he tries to control it.

“Watch the gaping bloody holes,” he says bluntly. I wince. There’s two glistening puncture wounds, I do my best not to look at them.

I pull the shirt away from him, bracing a hand on his back to help him sit up so I can pull it from under him even though I’m fairly sure he doesn’t really need the help. Looking at him, I can already see where the skin is healing. It doesn’t scab and clot, like flesh wounds normally do, the skin just seems to stitch itself smoothly back together.

I ball his shirt up and throw it to the side, then gently begin wiping the blood away with a damp towel.

“Careful, Snow,” Baz warns with a quiet hiss.

“Does it still hurt?” I have no idea how vampire pain receptors work.

“Crowely, Snow. Of course it hurts. I got stabbed .” Baz doesn’t really sound mad, but his voice has an edge to it.

“I’m sorry,” I say again. I don’t really know what else to say.

Baz doesn’t reply straight away. I can’t tell what he’s thinking. I carry on wiping at the blood, vaguely recognising that, really, this isn’t even Baz’s.

“Why do you keep apologising so much?” He asks softly.

“I just- I don’t know.” I really don’t. “I just keep making you feel bad, and what sort of boyfriend forgets his boyfriend is a vampire? I’m sorry, Baz. Really.”

“It’s alright, Simon.” My stomach flutters at the use of my first name. “I’m glad I have you.” Baz always does this. He puts affection over everything like a salve. Lately he won’t let me be in the wrong, not him or Penny. The both of them walking on eggshells with me. It’s why nothing ever gets properly sorted out. Now isn’t the time for a fight, though.

“I bet you could do a better job with magic,” I mutter bitterly anyways.

“I don’t want to use magic. I’ve used enough magic. I don’t think I’d have enough left in me if I wanted to regardless.”

“Are you sure this is okay?”

“Absolutely, Simon. Absolutely.”

I carry on patching him up in silence. Even though it’s pointless. He’ll heal anyways, but he doesn’t stop me from wrapping the towels around him like a bandage and applying pressure with my hand. I look at where my hands are pressing over the wounds, trying to focus on the solid pressure of Baz beneath them.

The pain is mostly gone out of his face now, he just looks uncomfortable.

I wonder how indestructible Baz is. I wonder how long he’ll live. I wonder- no. I swallow. It’s no good thinking about all of this, not now, at least.

“I’m going to nap,” Baz says.

“Here? Or…?”

“I’ll be alright here, don’t worry.” I stare down at him until he looks back up at me. My heart squeezes as our eyes make contact and I reach up to press my hand against the side of his his grey face. His eyes seem to melt a little, he smiles and turns his head to kiss my hand.

“Come to bed. With me,” I whisper. I don’t want to be away from him right now. I need him near me, I need to feel that un-dead chest breathing.

It’s a struggle, but I help him up, and keep an arm around his waist as I lead him to the bedroom. He gets into bed first, lifting the covers and sliding in with a low hum. He’s falling asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. I notice how he pushes the covers away so that they don’t get stained.

I don’t care, I climb in and pull them over the both of us.

Baz lays still for a moment, tense. Then he shuffles closer to me, rests his head on my shoulder. I press my cheek to the top of it, hoping to smell bergamot. All I can smell is the tangy copper of blood. He’ll be wanting to shower once he’s awake, Baz hates being a mess.

He’s cold where he presses against me, but I don’t mind. He’s a vampire. It’s part of the deal. I want him as he is, not as he wishes he should be. I wonder if he thinks the same of me.

[halothenthehorns]

FLIGHT OF THE FAT LADY

Lily took the book with very mixed emotions. Harry was only one week into this school year and already she felt as wrung out and emotionally drained as his other two years. She would also keep a lid on her emotions and not blow up at Snape like she knew they were all expecting. Hoping it just couldn't get any worse, she hesitantly began to read.

After that, Defense became hands down the best class for the majority of students.

Remus couldn't help but beam with pleasure, while James and Sirius were unsurprised and smirking.

Only Malfoy and his select Slytherins found anything to bad mouth Lupin about.

Lily's lips formed a sneer of annoyance; she found it horrid anyone would say something about someone else because of the way they dressed, especially when he couldn't help it.

She saw the boys clench as they fought their disgust, only Remus rolled his eyes, not looking very concerned. He doubted this kid could say anything he hadn't already heard before.

He laughed loudly in the corridors even as said teacher passed, mocking him for dressing like their old house elf.

"I like to think I'm a little better off than an old pillow case," Remus said lightly.

"Wonder what happened to Dobby anyways," James said with interest, still rather wound up at anybody insulting one of his friends, but recognizing it couldn't really be handled right now.

"I'm rather sure I find out," Harry said with as much confidence as he ever could when talking about his future, but he did seem rather sure on this matter, so the others let it go for now.

This didn't concern any of the other students though,

"The good people never do care about such trivial things," Sirius nodded in agreement, always wishing he could help his friend out more if he'd allow it, but grateful that the students had looked past his physical appearance to see the real friend and good person beneath.

as they eagerly anticipated and were promptly delivered the next set of interesting lessons, ranging from all manner of magical beasts over the next several weeks.

However much they all forced themselves to continue ignoring the issue, they all felt just that little bit worse when they realized time was still dragging on and Remus very clearly wasn't going to have that talk with Harry. Why though, what possible reason could he have for ignoring him like this? If it really was Dumbledore stopping him, then what motive could the Headmaster have? Harry deserved an adult wizard in his life, one that would make sure to look after him like Dumbledore himself clearly hadn't. No one could bring themselves to say anything aloud about this topic though, having no more answers now than when this had first come up.

Instead, Harry at least tried to push past that awkward part and asked, "why were you focusing on the dark creatures though? Were we that far behind?"

Remus gave himself a hard little shake, uneasily meeting Harry's eyes as he explained, "well, yes and no. I do specialize in dark creatures, as Dumbledore well knows I enjoy studying them in my spare time. Mostly though that's just what the third year curriculum focuses on, scattered in with the spells used to combat them."

Harry nodded in understanding, while James and Sirius tried not to share an uneasy look. On top of Remus' odd behaviour so far in this, they were also well aware that this was the year when most students focused on how to spot werewolves. That wouldn't be an easy lesson for Remus to teach, and it wasn't any more pleasant to wonder how Harry was going to react to that. He seemed fine with it now, but could they stand it if he had an initial bad reaction to their friend? Of course they were just assuming Harry figured it out like they had, but what if Remus sat Harry down and explained that before hand, it could even be the reason why he was so unsurprised to relearn the news here with them.

More questions than answers, and still none of them dared speak any of this allowed.

Harry just wished that his other classes were going as well, like Potions.

Lily grit her teeth in frustration, before reading on forcefully, already having to use a lot of self-restraint to read in a normal tone.

Snape was acting even worse than usual.

"Bitter old bat," Sirius huffed.

"I wish I struggled to imagine it," James sneered.

He'd clearly overheard the story of his boggart.

Here James and Sirius again didn't bother hiding their laughter one little bit, dearly hoping they never would have to again.

He'd also taken to giving Lupin a death look whenever they were in the same vicinity, while if ever his name was spoken in ear shot that student would receive the same treatment.

"Glad he blames me for that rather than Neville," Remus frowned, "at least I can handle him."

His treatment of Neville had doubled up in bad.

Lily wasn't the only one seething by the end of this; they all wanted to strangle this overgrown child for treating a student like that. It was Snape's own damned fault he was Neville's worst fear, and the subsequent boggart form. It was infuriating for him to still not have learned his lesson. His continuation of the treatment to Neville and the other students was doing nothing to stop future boggart incidents. Lily was going to give him a not very pleasant visit soon.

Divination wasn't going any better, as that teacher now watched Harry with dew filled eyes.

"Oh please," James scoffed with perhaps a bit more acid than normal, still distracted and peeved at Snape's actions.

Unlike Harry though, some of the other students had taken to revering Trelawney.

"Ah the easily fooled youth," Sirius said lightly, finding her rather annoying as well.

Parvati and Lavender in particular began spending their lunch breaks with her, and proceeded to then speak to their fellow students with knowledge bound smirks.

"And Hermione has to share a dorm with them?" Lily asked in disgust, "I feel bad for her now."

They'd also jumped on the bandwagon and began treating Harry like they were at his wake.

"That must get annoying, considering how loud the school can get. Could you even hear them?" Remus asked.

Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes, finding those girls antics rather annoying as he said, "I hardly spoke to them anyways, and no, not really. By that point I didn't care."

Care of Magical Creatures had lost its fun as well,

"Oh no," Sirius frowned, "what happened?"

as Hagrid had lost all charisma after the debauched first class, and had spent the remainder of time teaching them how to take care of flobberworms.

"Ouch," Remus winced in sympathy.

"Poor Hagrid," Lily agreed with a frown.

"Guess I can see that happening," James admitted.

Ron found these classes the most boring thing of all, pointing out how useless the wriggling creatures were while shoving lettuce down its gullet.

"Ron's also got a point," Sirius rolled his eyes, "flobberworms are very self-managing, and they're pretty much just grub for a few creatures. Hagrid's doing the class a real injustice for lingering on these things longer than five minutes."

"I can only imagine the seventh years appreciating this, as if he carries on too long their NEWT's will be a breeze," Remus agreed with a slight wince.

October though brought something new to Harry's plate, as the Quidditch season was set to begin.

"Yes," all four boys brightened up at that, and then Sirius narrowed his eyes dangerously at Lily and said, "I swear if you get to read his Quidditch chapter, I'm going to have a fit. It's high time I've gotten my turn at that."

Lily rolled her eyes at him; personally she was hoping she didn't get it too since she had hardly enjoyed the sport even before it seemed to have gone out of its way to pulverize her son every chance it got. She'd gladly hand over the book to Sirius if he really wanted to read it.

Oliver Wood was well aware of this, using his first bit of practice to go over brand new skills and tactics he'd been thinking on. The narration began to explain that there were seven players in Quidditch,

"Oh here we go again," James rolled his eyes, "the book explaining something we've already gone over."

"Yes well, since it's about Quidditch, I'm willing to allow this," Sirius smirked.

and gave a small overview of the game.

"At least it was brief," Remus shrugged without concern.

Wood was now a seventh year in school,

"Oh that's right," James nodded, "this will be his last year there. Poor kid hasn't won the Cup once as captain has he?"

Harry shuffled a little, feeling personally to blame for this, but the others still wouldn't hear of it and spent a few more minutes telling Harry why this was ridiculous of him to think so. He did look slightly better by the end of it, and still had a personal conviction that nothing should happen this year, he and his team would win that Cup, he hoped.

Hoping to make Harry feel at least a little better Sirius also pointed out, "besides, it's not like anyone who would review him for a professional team could blame any of that on you. They'd look at his statistics of how many goals he's saved, and other such stats."

Harry did look a little better at that reminder, thinking he had won Wood every game he'd been in so far, and ignoring an odd little feeling like he should correct that statement.

and as this was his last year to win the Quidditch Cup for their team, he kept up a constant reminder of that. He began by addressing some of the reasons they hadn't won the last two games, due to unpreventable circumstances,

"See, that wasn't your fault at all, just paranoid teachers," Sirius said bracingly.

"Rightly paranoid," Lily corrected, "but I'll admit you're still right too."

but they had the best team by far of the school, stating the names of the three best Chasers, the unbeatable Beaters the Weasley twins, who kindly flattered themselves at his praise,

"Well they're not modest are they," James chuckled.

and their Seeker who'd won them every game.

"Damned straight," Sirius and James both grinned, having called this way back when Harry started playing, and still convinced until otherwise proven that Harry would never lose a match.

Wood finished with a furious pride staring down at Harry.

"Err, gee, thanks," Lily muttered, though she was smiling a bit too at how happy Harry seemed at such praise.

Then he tacked himself on at the end. Fred and George were quick to agree his own praise was well deserved.

"Glad they gave him his credit," Remus approved.

Then Wood carried on, reminding that this was his last chance to get that Cup before he left school, and he looked so desolate by saying it even the twins turned sympathetic.

"Aw," James and Sirius said with concern.

"Okay, now I'm really hoping you win this year just because of that," Remus agreed.

The team rallied, promising it would be an easy victory, and they began the team practices three times a week, with Harry now dreaming of that Cup himself.

While the boys were still giddy with excitement as well, Sirius was personally hoping this match got put off for another two chapters, feeling it was high time he got his Quidditch game.

Harry returned from one particularly wet flying practice to find Ron and Hermione eagerly looking over something, a flyer stating when their first Hogsmeade trip would be.

Harry went from pent up excitement at the prospect of winning the Cup like he so dearly hoped, to disgruntled at once. In all the excitement of finding out Sirius and Remus were alive, right now he was more than distracted by the matter, but he knew his thirteen year old self would still be beyond upset at this turn of events.

Which would be taking place on Halloween.

Then the four of them winced, having a rather bad track record of that holiday in their opinion, but still more than convinced nothing too bad could happen to Harry this year, or any more years for that matter. Remus and Sirius would get this whole mess figured out, why they hadn't already was still too touchy for anyone to bring up. The point was Harry now had two great protectors who wouldn't let anything too bad happen to him again.

Hermione caught sight of Harry's down turn of a mood, and tried to sooth him he might could go on the next one,

"Did someone magically sign his form?" Lily asked redundantly.

that Black was sure to be caught sooner rather than later.

Sirius winced, but still said in a forced light tone, "that's not why he's not allowed to go, come on Hermione should be able to keep up better than that."

"She's probably so distracted by her butt loads of homework," James reminded.

Ron brought up the old argument that Black wasn't stupid enough to try anything in such a public place like Hogsmeade,

Sirius was making goofy faces at the baby again and refusing to allow himself to react negatively to this continued topic.

telling Harry he should still ask McGonagall if he can go anyways.

"She'll say no every stinking time," James grumbled, "because he doesn't have his stupid form."

Hermione told Ron off for that, saying Harry was supposed to be staying inside.

"They really can't keep him locked up forever," Remus rolled his eyes.

Ron pointed out Harry would literally be the only person who couldn't go, and Harry agreed he'd at least try his head of house. Hermione looked about arguing,

"Argue what?" Lily demanded.

"That I shouldn't," Harry shrugged.

"Hermione's being a bit paranoid this year," Sirius noted, "really, I'm with Remus, she can't expect you to stay cooped up forever."

but was cut off by her cat jumping into her lap, a pre killed spider clamped in its mouth. Ron looked disgusted as his yellow eyes watched Ron while he ate it up.

James couldn't help but snort with laughter at that, the cat was hardly being subtle about its feelings towards Ron.

He told Hermione to keep the cat away from him, he had Scabbers stowed away in his bag. Harry wasn't paying them much attention as he began to dig out his homework, but Ron pushed his finished copy towards his friend.

"Not going to say anything Lily?" Sirius asked, still trying to get a provocation out of her, and being more amused the longer this went on. She was trying so hard not to react to anything.

"No," Lily shrugged without looking up, "I'm not perfect, and I'll willingly admit I had to sometimes get help from others on some homework. I think Harry should have tried first, but there's nothing for it now."

Harry wasn't the only one who gave her a surprised look at that, but he did look the most grateful.

Hermione may have said something about this as well, but then Crookshanks pounced on Ron's bag, claws extended.

"Dang," Remus winced, "is he still after Scabbers?"

"Apparently," James grumbled, feeling all the more annoyed at both cat and girl now.

Ron tried to wrench his bag away, and Hermione told him not to hurt her cat.

"Really?" Sirius demanded. "He's trying to eat Ron's pet, and that's her response."

"Both of them need to learn to keep their pets separated," Lily agreed.

"Kind of hard to do when they spend so much time together," Harry sighed.

Everyone in the room was watching as Ron flung his bag hard, trying to dislodge Crookshanks, but instead sent Scabbers flying away.

"Uh oh," they all muttered, knowing Scabbers was much safer in Ron's bag, not that the rat could understand that.

Ron tried to grab up the feline, but missed, and yelled at someone to catch him! George made a swipe for his tail, but missed.

"Good thing he's not a Chaser then," Sirius muttered without any real humor, feeling just as uneasy as anyone else at how this might turn out.

The rat made quick work of darting between everything and flashed under a wooden chest.

"Where the cat hopefully can't follow," Remus nodded happily.

Crookshanks tried to follow, smashing his face as low as possible and batting at the available carpet, but then the owners arrived as Hermione pulled him into her arms, and Ron had to shove his arm clear up to his elbow to pull Scabbers out by his bald tail.

"At least that went better than I feared," Lily sighed in relief.

"Yeah, but how many more times is it going to happen," James was still frowning, "Hermione should have realized it was a bad idea to buy that particular cat back when this happened before."

None of them could think of anything else to say, all having a very bad feeling this was going to get worse before it got better.

Ron was yelling at Hermione already, saying that cat was slowly killing his rat from stress! Hermione shot back that it wasn't Crookshanks fault, it was in his nature.

"True," Lily nodded, "but she should have thought of that back when she bought him, and not bought him."

"Buying a cat when one of your best friends owns a rat feels like a recipe for disaster," Remus agreed.

Ron insisted it was Hermione's cat though, how it had heard him say Scabbers was in his pack.

"Now he's just being a little ridiculous," Sirius smirked. "'Heard'? Nah, he smelt him obviously."

"Not the point," James reminded.

Hermione told him he was being ridiculous, but Ron wouldn't hear it, telling her off that Scabbers was sick and here first!

"A very good point," Lily huffed, while Remus cocked his head to the side, thinking over that sentence. Scabbers had been getting sick before Hermione bought Crookshanks, so Ron was obviously exaggerating that part as well. This also couldn't be the first time Scabbers had interacted with a cat; surely some other Gryffindor owned one. The truth probably was; Scabbers was getting old, and Ron was projecting his fear of his pet dying of old age on his hatred of the cat.

Then he stamped off towards the stairs, and refused to come down until next morning's class, Herbology, where Hermione's first question was to ask how Scabbers was doing?

"At least she asks," James said still a little stiffly.

"Hermione cares," Lily snipped at him for the tone, "perhaps she's not showing it that well, but it's not like she set that cat on Scabbers on purpose. She'd be just as upset if an accident did happen and Crookshanks ate him."

James backed off slightly, noting that at least Hermione's asking was an attempt at the start of an apology.

Ron snapped that he was cowering at the foot of his bed, while knocking over a tin of beans in his rage.

"And Ron's clearly still holding a grudge," Sirius noted.

Sprout told him off for that, as he ruined a whole plantation that sprouted to life as they watched.

Harry's startled look was enough to make the others laugh, never getting tired of his constant surprise of the magical world.

On the way to Transfiguration, Harry was stewing over how to ask McGonagall if he could go into Hogsmeade

"Know the answer to that already," Remus sighed.

"He's got a point," James nodded when Harry looked like he might try and argue his point. "Unless you outright tell McGonagall why they hadn't signed, which by your track record you won't," he finished in a rather grumpy tone.

Harry sighed, knowing full well he'd never tell a teacher something like that, so remained silent and hoped anyways.

but was distracted outside of the class by Lavender in tears.

"Oh no," Lily frowned in concern.

"She's a girl," Sirius scoffed, "I'm sure she's just exaggerating."

"And here I thought you actually had a heart," Lily snapped at him at once, ignoring his eye roll. Whether he meant it or not, he really needed to stop making jokes like that.

Parvati was clearly trying to comfort her while talking to Dean and Seamus, who looked rather serious.

"Shut it Sirius," Lily snapped at him before he could open his mouth.

Sirius pouted at her, grumbling that she was kind of proving his point about how dramatic girls were, but then James nudged him and convinced him to let it go.

When the three of them approached, Parvati explained for them that Lavender had gotten a letter from home saying that her rabbit had been eaten by a fox.

"Aw," Sirius winced, "okay, poor kid."

"Thank you," Lily acknowledged.

Sirius made sure she could see his eye roll this time, stating, "come on Lils, I'm not heartless. I own an owl; I'd be pretty upset if anything happened to him too."

Lily still didn't think he'd gotten her point, that he shouldn't have made the joke in the first place, but decided to let it go.

Lavender was wailing that she shouldn't even be surprised, today of all days! It was October sixteenth, and the thing she'd been dreading happened, she was right!

"Oh crap," Remus said, blinking in shock.

"I'd honestly forgotten about that," James admitted.

"Wow, honestly, I think that Trelawney might have some real Seer's blood," Sirius said in surprise.

"Really Sirius? One right prediction and that's what you go with?" Lily asked, not bothering to try and hide her disbelief.

Sirius shrugged, personally he found the odds that not only had she chosen the death omen that was dogging Harry this year, but now this? No, he truly was beginning to believe this woman might really have a power, even if she did still annoy him for her use of it on his pup. He said as much aloud, and while he didn't really seem to convince anyone but Harry, the others found the argument to become rather circular after a time. Sirius wasn't letting up and he wasn't convincing anyone else so Lily decided to forcefully read on past him.

The rest of the class looked shocked and downed at the news, but Hermione began hesitantly asking if Lavender had really feared her rabbit Binky being killed by a fox? Lavender stuttered that it wasn't a fox exactly, but she'd feared for him! Hermione then asked if Binky was an older rabbit.

"Really Hermione?" Remus said with a frown. "Now, really?"

"I can see what she's trying to do," Lily nodded in agreement with both the girl and Remus, "but, yeah, wrong time and place."

Lavender moaned back that he was just a baby. Hermione then asked why she was so afraid of him dying. Parvati was now giving Hermione a dirty look.

"A fair reaction honestly," James sighed.

Hermione turned away from her and began addressing everyone as she pointed out that Binky hadn't even died on this day, but Lavender had just gotten the news of it.

"Harry, now would be the time to be a good friend and drag Hermione away," Remus pointed out.

"Before she continues making an arse out of herself like this," Sirius agreed. While he still would have argued the point on the probability of this happening on this day, he more than agreed Hermione wasn't doing it the right way.

Harry just sighed, he'd only observed the scene and hadn't really put an opinion on the matter, but he had felt rather bad for his friend as the rest of the class had been giving her harsh looks.

Plus, Lavender couldn't have been too surprised, since she was so stunned by the news.

"Now that was just tactless," Lily winced.

Ron cut in, telling Lavender to ignore Hermione, since she held no regards for how other people felt about their pets.

"And that was just heartless," Remus huffed.

McGonagall arrived then, cutting off a haughty glare between the two normally friends.

"Finally I can count on her good timing again," Sirius said weakly, more than happy himself to have avoided that fight, and they weren't even his friends.

They marched into class and sat on either side of Harry without looking at each other, and remained this way until class let out. It was McGonagall herself though that brought up the Hogsmeade trip, reminding that no one was allowed entrance without a form. Neville raised his hand hesitantly, beginning to explain he lost his,

"Ouch," all five of them winced, though none of them would admit rather selfishly pleased if Neville wouldn't be permitted to go either. They could hardly get mad at Hermione and Ron for wanting to go, but it would certainly make them feel a little better if Harry wasn't left behind on this.

but McGonagall explained that Neville's grandmother had mailed it to her personally.

"Smart woman at least," Lily said aloud, ignoring the internal wince.

Then she dismissed the class, and Ron told Harry to go and talk to her. Hermione tried to say something,

"Still don't understand why she's arguing that one," Lily shook her head in disbelief. "Harry deserves to have a little fun."

but Ron cut her off by insisting Harry should try. Harry went up to McGonagall's desk, and began to explain that his relatives had forgotten to sign his permission form,

"Forgot," the four of them muttered in disgust, eying Harry in disbelief. They honestly wondered if Harry had told her what really happened if she would have done something about it, but they couldn't say they were surprised at this point either. Harry's bad habit of glossing over this clearly hadn't gotten any better now that he was older.

but stuttering out by asking if he could still go anyways?

"And stammering on top of everything," Remus sighed.

"I could already tell her answer from the look on her face before I finished," Harry sighed.

McGonagall replied as expected, telling him that no form meant no visit, it was a rule. Harry tried to protest, saying that his muggle relatives hadn't understood it,

"That's what you're going with," Lily groaned, "just tell her the truth, and let's sit back and see how quickly they continue living."

Harry gave her a rather edgy look for her tone of voice but chose not to comment on that.

but if McGonagall gave him permission- she cut him off by saying she wasn't going to. The form stated it had to be Harry's parent or guardian.

"And now I want to cry," Sirius hissed, looking far more deadly than upset in that moment at that stupid reminder they were all Harry had to claim as guardian right then.

Then she gave Harry an odd look, which sort of resembled pity.

"I'd like to think more like confusion," Remus huffed, "since she'd probably be wondering why you really hadn't gotten your form signed."

"With any luck she'll bring it up to you, and you'll investigate," Sirius murmured to him, causing a vindictive smirk to appear on both of their faces.

Then she told them to get along to their next class, and once they were gone Ron spent the time walking calling McGonagall a couple of things that annoyed Hermione.

"The worst part is, McGonagall's still in the right," Lily sighed.

Said girl had a look on her face though that made it clear this was the best outcome, only angering Ron further.

"Yeah, she's not exactly being helpful this year," James sighed.

As the weeks crept on and this was the sole topic of everyone's conversation though, Ron tried to cheer Harry up that at least they would enjoy the holiday feast.

"Not exactly the worst consolation prize," Sirius offered bracingly, and Harry tried his best to give him a smile he didn't really feel.

The rest of the Gryffindors tried to cheer up Harry as well when they found out, Dean offering to forge someone's signature as he was a pretty good artist,

"Now there's an idea," James said, going bright-eyed.

"Except that Harry just got done saying he hadn't had his form signed," Remus reminded.

"Harry could have mailed it back and had it signed," Sirius said, mind now churning with possibility as he came up with a story for this. "He shouldn't give it to her until the day before, gives some credibility to the idea, and he'd have to mail himself something that looks like that in case McGonagall notices how often he gets mail. Most likely she doesn't, but it's a safe backup."

"You are putting way too much thought into this," Lily told him.

"Nonsense," Sirius scoffed at the same time James said, "no such thing."

While Harry didn't disagree with them, he had a sinking feeling that all of Sirius' planning didn't actually come true then, and hardly looked happy about it as Lily read.

Harry turned down the idea though, reminding he'd told McGonagall he hadn't had anyone sign it.

"Well dang, clearly no one in your dorm thinks outside the box," Remus sighed.

"Wish you'd go to the twins for help," James grumbled, "they could sneak you in no problem."

Harry perked up suddenly, his dad's words finally gave him that feeling he'd been missing, and he had a very good feeling this just might be what happened at some point. Still too worried about being wrong on the matter though, he didn't say this.

Ron offered for him to use the invisibility cloak,

"Which might have worked if not for those bloody dementors," Sirius grimaced.

but then Hermione reminded they didn't work on dementors. Percy offered the least helpful advice of all.

"Oh this can't be good," James groaned.

Telling Harry that everyone made a big deal about Hogsmeade in a serious tone of voice,

"Not as Seriously as I could have," Sirius said quickly, clutching the baby to his chest to prevent either of his friends from smacking him.

"You shouldn't be allowed to do that," James grumbled, looking rather disappointed that he didn't have a chance to get at him.

"I think I should claim rights," Remus huffed, eyeing the baby, "you've been holding him long enough."

"I might share if you didn't look like you were about to slap me once I did," Sirius smirked.

listing some of things that were worth seeing, but then adding on at the end that it wasn't that much fun.

"He only listed like a fourth of the good stuff," James huffed under his breath, making sure Harry didn't hear that one so he really wouldn't feel worse.

Halloween dawned with Harry feeling the lowest he had in a long time, but he attempted to act normally, though unable to fool his friends as Hermione promised to bring him back loads of sweets, while Ron agreed. They'd clearly put the fight over their pets aside in favor of trying to make Harry feel better.

"That's when you know you have some good friends," Sirius smiled brightly, "when they put aside their differences for you."

Harry couldn't help but beam right back, trying his very best to smother how much he really missed his friends.

Harry tried to reassure them in an offhand voice that he was going to be fine,

"I get the feeling it wasn't actually an offhand tone of voice," Remus said lightly, "but good effort for trying."

and promised to see them that night. He watched them leave, with Filch checking names off of a list to make sure no one was getting out who shouldn't,

'Which was basically every third year and up, aside from Harry,' they all sighed in their head, but kept that comment to themselves.

and did his best to ignore Malfoy who laughed when he saw Harry wasn't going, asking if he couldn't stand the idea of going past the dementors.

"Of all the bloody rotten timing for him to-" Sirius began, using a bit more of a threatening growl than normal because of his depressed mood for his little pup being left behind.

Harry went back to his common room and went inside, only to find the place diminished to second years and below, and the few older students who had no want to go to Hogsmeade.

Harry grumbled something about he really couldn't picture that. Honestly the other four really couldn't either, it was never worth passing up an opportunity getting out of the castle, with permission the three trouble makers mentally added on.

He was just wondering what to do with himself now when Colin came up to Harry, a boy a year below Harry who always talked to him whenever he could.

"Oh yeah, almost forgot about him," Remus said in surprise.

"Well he clearly wasn't dogging you that year, or he would have been mentioned by now," Sirius pointed out, preeing even more he got to make his own pun again and still no one could retaliate.

"No, thankfully he hadn't memorized my schedule again," Harry said in relief, but repeated, "but he still went out of his way to talk to me." He didn't exactly look pleased, but he had to admit this was still better than last year.

He asked Harry why he wasn't in Hogsmeade, then offered Harry to come sit with him and his friends.

"I don't see that as being at the top of his to do list," James smirked.

Harry told him he'd forgotten to go do some homework.

"Pretty good on the spot lie," Remus appraised.

Then he turned back around and left, with the Fat Lady calling behind him that what was the point of getting her up?

"Because you deserve it for sleeping in the middle of the day," Lily snapped right back.

Harry began wandering through the hallways, but didn't get very far before he decided homework wasn't going to help.

All four of them were wincing in pain, hating how truly upset and lonely he seemed to be right then. 

Harry at least tried to keep their spirits up by refusing to let his own mood sink that low, he had a funny feeling he got some sort of interest happening to him on this day. Maybe he and Remus finally talked? Or he learned something about Sirius? Neither option left a very good omen for him for some reason though, so he still kept it to himself. 

He didn't backtrack too much when he ran into Filch, who snapped at Harry what he was doing? Harry just said 'nothing.'

"You can't ever really be doing nothing," James said loudly, trying to get at least a small smile out of Harry again.

Sirius noticed at once and continued, "yeah, like technically right then you were walking, that's something. Or you were standing, that's something too. You can't ever really be doing nothing."

Harry recognized what they were doing and really did give them a small smile for the effort.

Filch said back that he didn't believe that one bit.

"Funny part is he actually wasn't doing anything wrong right then," Remus chuckled.

"Probably had another flashback to when he caught James like that," Lily pointed out lightly.

Then he demanded why Harry wasn't out with the rest of the miscreants buying everything possible to destroy this castle.

"He just thinks so much of all of them doesn't he?" Sirius snickered.

Harry didn't answer, and Filch told him to get back to his tower.

James rolled his eyes and pointed out, "it's not like it's curfew or anything; Harry can go wherever he wants to in that castle."

"Like that's ever stopped Filch," Remus pointed out.

Harry walked off, but had no intentions of going back there. He was now thinking of going to see Hedwig,

"At least that'll be something pleasant," Lily sighed.

when another voice called him back and Harry turned to see Professor Lupin.

"Yes!" All five of them brightened at once. Surely the fact that Remus had just called out to him meant he really couldn't ignore him this time! Why he had waited until now, months after school had started they still couldn't guess, but now would be the most perfect time to finally have that talk Harry so desperately deserved.

He asked what Harry was doing, in the opposite tone Filch had used.

"Well I should hope so," James agreed.

Then he asked where Harry's friends were, and Harry told him. Lupin watched Harry for a second,

"Remus I will give you all of the gold in my vault right now if you bloody ask him about this," Sirius said, nearly bouncing around in anticipation for what this could mean.

"And Harry actually tells him the truth," James noted.

Remus couldn't help the pessimistic little niggle that Harry had known him for far less a time then he'd even known McGonagall, so why would he tell him something like that? He looked so dejected Sirius finally gave up the baby and passed him along to Remus, which put a smile on his face at once.

then he offered Harry to come inside his office and have a look at his new grindylow.

The two boys refused to let them get their hopes down. So Remus hadn't started off like they would have preferred, but it was finally happening. He and Harry were completely alone with the best amount of time no one would walk in on a conversation that was so desperately needed. If Remus didn't get to it this time, they would know something was up.

Harry walked in to see an odd creature floating in the tank, green in skin color with spiky little horns jutting out of its forehead and trying to hide in some weeds. Lupin explained it was a water demon,

"I always get those confused with kappas," Lily said absently.

"Kappa is Japanese for cucumber," Remus said randomly.

At Lily's blank look he shrugged and said, "when I was first learning about them, I found that a random and interesting fact, so when I got to grindylows it was an interesting distinction."

"Okay then," Lily said with a shrug and a small smile, not having actually expected an answer.

telling that after they'd dealt with the other creatures, this one should be easy to handle, noting its weakness in the strong but brittle fingers. The grindylow gave them a dirty look and dug itself into the sand.

"You are the only person who would actually keep that thing in his office," Sirius snickered.

"It's not that weird," Remus defended. "Where else would I keep it?"

"In the staff's supply room, where all the other teachers keep their stuff, like live animals, they plan on using for class," James said in a duh like voice. "Did it never occur to you why McGonagall and Flitwick don't have a bunch of random animals around their offices?"

Remus rolled his eyes; he wasn't going to argue the point. Sirius only wished they had their own supply office for all the random beasts Remus kept bringing home to study, it was a wonder he didn't come home to find him cuddling in bed with a diricawl.

Then he offered Harry some tea, and Harry agreed with some lingering awkwardness.

Remus grimaced and turned his attention back to the child, hating just how awkward it clearly was for the two of them to be in the same room. He felt lucky Harry had accepted at all, considering the past two DADA teachers had attacked him.

Harry tried to catch his eye and give him a reassuring smile now, to prove he didn't still feel that way, but Remus was clearly ignoring everyone else in the room now.

He began to set up a pot, making the joke that all he had were teabags, but he'd heard that Harry would prefer that to leaves.

Sirius couldn't help but give a little surprised laugh, Remus had obviously been checking up on Harry's other classes.

He caught Harry's eye then, trying to suppress laughter as he explained that McGonagall had told about his first Divination class, and asking if he was worried about that Grim?

"I'm sure you two had a nice long conversation about him," James snickered, having quite the amusement at McGonagall telling Remus all the things Harry had been up to the past two years at school.

Harry looked mildly annoyed at this, not really appreciating the thought of teachers sitting around gossiping about him, but couldn't find it in himself to be to mad at Remus for this, knowing now that he probably just wanted to know more about him.

Harry admitted he wasn't, while considering thinking about telling him that stray dog he'd seen months ago.

"Now that would have been interesting," Lily said, eyeing Remus who did look mildly entertained at how that reaction would go. Most likely, if his assumption was correct, Sirius would have already told him that he'd seen Harry then; but he certainly wished Harry would tell him. It would help ease into the conversation they were all wanting to hear about Harry's past really being explained to him by someone who really knew.

He didn't though, wondering if bringing this up would only reinforce what a coward he was sure Lupin already thought he was after that boggart mess.

Which popped any form of happiness Remus was feeling, and he turned as if to quickly say something to Harry, who waved him off and said, "I know, you already said it now. I didn't know then."

Remus still didn't look very happy, but admitted there wasn't much else he could say right then.

It must have been clear enough on his face though, as Lupin asked if anything was on Harry's mind? Harry's first instinct was to say no,

Remus winced and began bouncing his leg in high agitation now, greatly amusing the baby at least though it didn't seem to be helping him now. He would never not hate just how little Harry seemed to trust him, Harry should have been able to come to him with any of his worries since he could talk, not this nonsense where he was lucky Harry was talking to him at all!

His emotions were written all over his lined face, so Sirius took pity on him and tried to put some comfort into his words as he said, "Let it go Remus. Yeah this sucks, but there's no sense in dwelling on this now that we're going to fix it." Sirius was still rather torn about Remus in the future. His actions were more annoying than anything; what could be holding Remus back, from stopping him from seeing Harry like he should have. But he'd decided to wait until that reason was revealed before he fully passed a judgment on Remus' actions.

Remus didn't exactly look comforted, but Lily decided to read on anyways.

but then he said yes before he could reconsider.

Which made them all perk up as if Christmas had suddenly been announced. It didn't matter what had changed Harry's mind about telling Remus, the fact that he was meant more to all of them then they could have put into words.

He finally asked why Lupin had stopped him from tackling the boggart, and Lupin said he thought it was obvious.

"No, sorry, not really," Harry told him, still smiling faintly.

Remus fidgeted around a bit, but shrugged all the same, still unsure what to say about his future actions.

Harry had been expecting Lupin to deny his actions altogether,

"Now that would have been just stupid, one thing Remus usually isn't," James noted.

"Usually?" Remus snapped without any heat, to which James ignored him.

but still asked why? Lupin explained he hadn't wanted a Voldemort to appear in class, boggart fake or not.

Remus rolled his eyes, he still didn't think this was a good enough reason to publicly deflect Harry the way he had, though his classmates clearly hadn't noticed, he still didn't like the way it had made Harry feel. Then Sirius leaned over and whispered in his ear, "glad to see you obviously still know him so well, even then." Which caused him to smile in spite of himself.

Lily was watching them curiously, noting the change in Remus' demeanor, but kept going when it didn't look like they were about to explain.

Harry was stunned not just because he'd partially guessed his actions right, but because he'd called Voldemort by name.

"I can see why you'd find that so surprising," James said fairly, "since, aside from Dumbledore, you've yet to see anyone else do that."

The only person Harry had ever known to do that, apart from himself, was Dumbledore.

"Whom Remus idolizes, so even if he didn't have his own brain, he'd still do whatever that man said," Sirius rolled his eyes.

Remus scowled lightly at him. Yes he was eternally grateful to the headmaster for everything he'd done for him, but Sirius had made it sound like he had blind faith in the man, which he didn't. Mostly. Okay, maybe a little, a lot, before they had read this, but after all the things the book had implied Dumbledore had done to Harry he wasn't one hundred percent sure on that anymore.

Lupin easily read Harry's face and said he must have misinterpreted it wrong, but it really would have been a bad thing if even a fake Voldemort had come to life in the school, it would cause quite the chaos.

"I can see that," Harry said fairly.

"But it still wouldn't do you any good, even if I had been right. You still should have had practice at it just like anyone else," Remus argued back.

James suddenly burst out laughing, causing Remus' annoyed look to double up on him. "What?" he snapped, his tone far sharper than Harry would have thought.

James hardly looked offended, or even surprised, as he admitted, "you do realize you are arguing against yourself right. How is that not funny?"

Remus paused with his head cocked to the side as he realized what James meant, then gave a wane smile and sat back and cuddled the baby as he gave up on the pointless argument.

Harry then admitted what he had been thinking at the time, dementors. Lupin found that intriguing, telling Harry that meant that he feared fear itself, which was very smart.

"Glad to see you agree with yourself on some things," Sirius snickered, causing Remus to stick his tongue out at the pair.

Then Lupin asked if Harry had really thought he wasn't up for the job of going at a boggart?

"Well you can't blame him for thinking that," Lily defended.

"Oh I know," Remus said at once peaceably.

Harry admitted he had, then began to ask about the dementors, but was interrupted by a knock on Lupin's door.

"Dang it," they all muttered, wondering who on earth could be interrupting them now when they were finally talking!

"What were you going to ask anyways?" James inquired.

"I was going to ask him about the effects dementors could have on people," Harry admitted. "Wanted to ask why I passed out and Ron didn't."

They looked all the more annoyed now, very much wanting Harry to be able to get that answer, so even before the person came in they were in a disgruntled mood.

Lupin called for them to enter, and Snape came in.

"Gah! Can't go one bloody chapter without wanting to hex him lately," Sirius snapped.

"What's he even doing there?" James frowned, "I sincerely doubt it's a casual visit."

Harry was just as curious as the others, thinking back and wondering why something significant might be fixing to happen, so eagerly asked his Mum to go on.

He was holding a goblet, which was smoking at the brim, but froze when his eyes landed on Harry.

"Try something in front of Remus you slimy little git," Sirius growled.

Remus couldn't help but agree this time, if he started in on Harry he'd have every reason to step in, though he somehow doubted Snape was that stupid.

Lupin greeted him pleasantly, asking him to leave the drink on his desk.

"Say what now?" James demanded, doing a double take on that.

Lily was looking down at the page, clearly just as confused as anyone else.

"What would you be accepting from him?" Sirius demanded, looking at his friend like he'd just declared he and Snape were the best of friends.

"Whatever was in that goblet I guess," Remus shrugged, looking just as perplexed as anyone else.

This was such an odd interaction, they were still pretty stunned and no one protested when Lily decided to carry on and hope for a better answer.*

Snape did as told, still watching the pair of them with narrowed eyes.

"Probably wondering if he's concocting some mad scheme with you," Lily smirked.

"He might have been having a flashback to be honest," James agreed with a laugh.

Lupin told Snape that he'd been showing off his new grindylow.

'Wish he was joking' Sirius noted sourly, wanting very much to grumble about how Snape shouldn't have shown up for hours so these two had a better chance to talk, or not at all preferably.

Snape didn't react to the news, telling Lupin to drink whatever was in that cup as soon as possible. Lupin agreed he would,

"Well I obviously know what it is," Remus observed quirking a brow in surprise.

"Wish you did now," James frowned.

then Snape added on he had more and it should be drunk as well tomorrow, which Lupin also agreed to, and thanked Snape.

"The fact that you two are being so polite to each other honestly scares me," Sirius grumbled.

"I'm just waiting for Harry to ask what's going on," Lily sighed.

Snape said it wasn't a problem, but Harry was getting a prickling feeling from the look on Snape's face.

"I don't like any look from him," James agreed, his eyes still narrowed suspiciously. Snape wouldn't do anything too bad to Remus in reaction to that Boggart mess, and Remus clearly wasn't bothered by the interaction in the future. Then again, Harry wasn't the best eyes to go on for that, as he might not have even noticed Remus' tells.

Then Snape left the room by walking backwards, still eyeing the pair of them mistrustfully.

"Be a little more scared if he was smiling," Sirius snapped.

Harry looked back at the drink and Lupin explained Harry's look saying that Snape had just made him a little pick-me-up. He picked up the goblet and gave it a dissatisfied look, telling that sugar didn't make it taste any better as he drank some and shuddered.

"But what is it?" Lily huffed, her eyes narrowed in high agitation that she didn't know the answer to that, though she couldn't help a sneaking suspicion of something it could be.

"Wish I knew," Remus answered with a shrug.

"I don't like this," James and Sirius said in sync, still frowning in concern that Snape might be trying to get some sort of payback at Remus for that boggart stunt. Then again, Remus didn't seem very concerned for this, in fact if they were hearing this right he seemed rather grateful to Snape for whatever that potion was. It was driving them all crazy none of them could figure it out.

Harry began to ask why, but Lupin cut him off by stating he'd been feeling off-color, and he was lucky Snape had done this for him when most wizards wouldn't bother.

Sirius and James exchanged wide-eyed looks at that. 'Off-color' was a kind of inside joke that Remus said when he wasn't feeling well around the full moon, and the 'many wizards aren't up to making it' bit sort of made it seem like it might be about the same thing. Had a potion actually been discovered to help with his lycanthropy? If so, then this was a miracle as much as it was mind-blowing. Neither voiced their suspicions though, wondering if it would give Remus false hope.

Lupin took another drink, and Harry had to fight down the want to throw that cup across the room.

"Can't blame you on that one," Sirius agreed, "I wouldn't trust him not to poison me any farther than I could throw him."

"He wouldn't do something like that right under Dumbledore's nose," Lily said at once, and all of the boys noted she had just so phrased that in the way she hadn't exactly said he wouldn't poison Remus. It was far from reassuring, even if it did mean she really wasn't exactly in Snape's corner anymore.

Instead Harry told him that Snape loved the Dark Arts.

"Which is not a surprise to me, I can assure you," Remus rolled his eyes.

Lupin didn't look very interested, but Harry kept going, stating that he'd heard rumors Snape would do anything to get Lupin's job.

"Glad Harry's so trusting of his potions teacher, really makes me feel all warm and fuzzy," James said with only mild amusement, still stuck on the potion itself.

Lupin downed the rest of it and made an ugly face at the taste, then he told Harry that he would see him later.

Then they all pulled a face remarkably close to how Remus had looked finishing off that potion, Harry noted, but didn't need to ask why. He knew they were just as disappointed as he was that their little talk was clearly over, and they actually walked out with more questions than answers.

Recognizing he was being excused, Harry did indeed leave, though still watching that goblet that still had smoke curling out of it.

"Ominous," James drew the word out, still giving the book a significant and haughty look.

Time skip to Ron and Hermione returning, looking like they'd had the time of their lives as they bestowed Harry with a shop's worth of sweets.

"Please, do anything but tell him what all you did," Lily sighed without any hope.

Harry thanked them for it all, then asked how it had gone, where all did they go?

"Well Harry's not helping anything," Remus grumbled.

Pretty much everywhere.

"And Ron and Hermione clearly weren't pulling any punches," Sirius winced.

They told Harry every detail of the village, all the shops you could go into, and their favorite the Three Broomsticks, where they swear they'd seen an ogre.

"That would have been a fun sight to see," James chuckled, remembering sneaking into there all the time just to watch who came and went.

Then Hermione changed subject to asking if Harry had done any homework.

"Oh yeah, he really sat around and hit the books," Sirius rolled his eyes. "Honestly, doesn't Hermione know him at all?"

Harry instead told them his day, and Ron asked if Lupin was mad when he heard he'd drank that stuff.

"That's actually a fair question as of right now," Sirius agreed sagely.

Remus rolled his eyes at him, stating in as sane a voice as he could muster, "despite my friends, I actually like to argue that from time to time." Even his own face though was showing his misgivings at this fact currently.

They were heading down to dinner now, while Hermione put in that Snape wouldn't have tried to kill Lupin like that, not with Harry sitting there as witness.

"Don't think Harry could really have done much to stop him," James frowned, "or known to do otherwise."

"I still kind of agree with Hermione," Lily said thoughtfully, "Snape's not so stupid to do that in front of someone like Harry, even if he didn't understand what was going on."

"If you're all done deciding whether I'm going to die or not," Remus pleasantly mocked Harry, the pair exchanging amused looks.

James and Sirius frowned, not finding that funny in the least. They'd only just found out he was actually going to survive, the thought of him being killed right now made them want to lash out at anything even slightly threatening. Whether they were right in their guess or not, they still didn't trust Snape to do a damned thing for Remus for any reason.

The feast was as pleasant as always, but Harry felt distracted the whole time as he kept an eye on Lupin through the night, who was acting no different than usual.

"I'll admit, I do find that rather comforting," James nodded in agreement, suddenly putting the date with the act and remembering all over again Harry's spectacular bad luck with this particular holiday. If something bad was going to happen to Remus, he wouldn't even be surprised if it had happened on this day.

Then he switched to watching Snape, who also seemed to be watching the DADA teacher with more interest then was called for.

"Please tell me you are exaggerating," Sirius groaned, "cause otherwise, that is creepy."

The show for the night turned out to be Nick showing off the way he'd died.

"Glad to see they still think that's funny," Harry said, trying to move on to lighter topics, and ignoring the mounting feeling he'd had earlier. He was still so sure something did happen today, but it clearly didn't involve Remus and Snape, so what could he be thinking of?

As they were leaving the halls, Malfoy got one last crack in about how the dementors missed Harry.

"That joke is still not funny," all three boys on the couch snapped, thinking this kid really needed to get a grip, or at least a new book of jokes.

They made it all the way up to Gryffindor tower, but met most of the house crowded up in the hallway. Harry tried to crane over heads to see what was up with the portrait, which was still shut.

"Did McGonagall change the password without telling anyone?" Lily asked in confusion.

"She's only ever done that to us, not the whole house," James disagreed with a frown in place.

Harry was starting to get fidgety again, instinctively knowing something bad was about to happen, and trying his hardest to keep that feeling suppressed.

Percy was shoving his way through, announcing his position for them to move,

"Yes, because that will make them move out of the way so much faster," Sirius rolled his eyes, thinking that even if their unlikely guess was right; Percy would know the new password at least.

but when he reached the front, he froze up as well, before hollering for someone to go and get Dumbledore!

"What, why, what happened?" The boys demanded at once.

Lily desperately wanted to pause and bite at her lip again, fearing that anything that made Percy upset couldn't be good, but read on quickly anyways for her answer.

Said headmaster arrived soon enough, and the parting of the crowd finally revealed that the Fat Lady's painting had been torn to shreds, little bits of canvas all over the floor.

James was blinking spastically like someone had just shined a bright light in his eye, while Sirius' mouth was hanging open in shock. Remus and Harry leaned forward, not wanting anyone to pause and try to guess what had happened, but encouraging Lily to keep going and try to get an answer already.

The rest of the teachers arrived with Dumbledore, and he quickly instructed them all to spread out and find the Fat Lady, but then Peeves arrived and told that would be a chore, laughing at all of them.

James was getting jittery all over, and keeping a paternal eye on Harry as he watched him continually rub at his temple, a sure sign something important was fixing to happen. Who, or what, on earth would have attacked that painting?

Dumbledore asked what he had seen, and Peeves put on an air of respect, even he wasn't stupid enough to mess with Dumbledore.

"Found the other person, besides the Bloody Baron, who Peeves won't mess with," Sirius said, but was ignored by the others.

He began to explain that it had started as a nasty little argument, and the end results was the poor woman running through paintings crying and screaming.

"Running from what?" Remus muttered, though not loud enough Lily stopped to acknowledge it.

Dumbledore asked who had done this, and Peeves told that of course it was none other than Sirius Black.

The book slipped out of Lily's numb hands and landed on the floor with a thunk.

HPHPHP

*I would just like to note before anyone says anything, in chapter eighteen Remus says that the invention of the Wolfsbane potion is 'very recent' which makes me think that it possibly wasn't even discovered until after the events of their deaths. So no, they really don't have any idea what Remus drank.

[queenaeducan-writes]

Healing Hands

Fandom: Elder Scrolls, Skyrim, 3DNPCs/Interesting NPCs Pairing: Rumarin x Eilonwy Rating: General Audiences Words: 2k

Repost of a work that’s since been deleted on Tumblr. Rumarin is a character from 3DNPCs and not in any way my OC!

Read it here on AO3.

For weeks they’d been travelling together, now. Sharing food and shelter, stories and songs. It had been an experience, to put it delicately. She’d come to Skyrim seeking knowledge, but had found a friend instead. Eilonwy watched him sit by the newly lit fire, trying his new ward out. As his hand unflexed a frail shield manifested, causing his arm to tremble until the ward broke. “You are improving,” Eilonwy said gently.

The other high elf scoffed. “At least it’s big enough to shield my head, now. I suppose my innards will simply have to fend for themselves.” He was smiling as he nodded his head toward her, looking at her hands. “In the meantime I can cower behind yours. They’re big enough for the two of us.”

She laughed, stifling it with her hand. Whenever he made her laugh she’d always snort something terrible. It was not the sort of noise a woman of her age ought to be making, especially not on account of a man. “You assume I will remember to cast them.”

“That is true. Though I like the strategy we’ve worked out. You go in, hands blazing, towering over your foes, and I swoop in and finish them off!” Rumarin swept his hand over the fire, slashing the air with an imaginary conjured blade. “It works surprisingly well.”

All over Skyrim they had walked, all in the hopes of teaching him a new spell. They’d visited healers, eccentrics, and even the undead. Each time they failed, it had always been her who seemed more upset about it. Rumarin laughed it off with a joke, while she stewed about it for hours. A good teacher did not dismiss a student because they required a different style of teaching. It was difficult to tell how serious Rumarin was about learning new spells, but he had travelled across Skyrim and back to learn one. That required dedication.

Eilonwy traced her fingers over the fabric of her robes, pulling at the frayed ends. “May I ask you a question?” she said, moving around the campfire until she caught his gaze. “We went from border to border trying to find a mage that could teach you, yet in all that time you never thought to ask me. Why?” She’d asked herself that question for a while now, ever since they’d met Valgus at the sign of the Steed. It didn’t make sense to her, but then again many things about Rumarin didn’t make sense to her.

“I did ask for your help, remember? You blasted me with lightning. I still don’t have any feeling in my left foot,” he replied evasively. “Thank you for that, by the way.”

“Before that, though,” she pressed him.

“When we met you wouldn’t shut up about the College, I didn’t think you would be able to offer me anything.” Eilonwy knew she ought not to be hurt by that, that by now she ought to have thicker skin. Still, it stung a little.

“I came to the College to seek a safe haven, for research. There are a few hundred years of magic-using before them. My first spells I didn’t learn from tomes, I repeated their names and effects. I told myself again and again that I could walk on water, until the spell was the only thing in my mind, and my words became true.” She still remembered what it felt like, to feel her foot touch the water, but not sink. Two steps later and she sank faster than a rock, but for that one moment she thought herself the most powerful mage in the world. “The spell you learned today will save your life one day, especially if you keep following me. If you’re willing, I can help you learn more.”

Rumarin’s attention had returned to his hand, contemplating it with an expression rarely seen on the blade binder’s face. “No tomes?”

“None.”

“Fine, but if it doesn’t work then you pay me 100 septims. No, you treat me to a meal. And the next time you drag my up High Hrothgar you’ll have to give me a piggyback ride.”

“It’s a deal,” she said. “We shall start tomorrow.”

* * *

When Eilonwy had told him they were starting tomorrow, he had imagined that meant they’d be starting bright and early. He was surprised to find that by the time he stirred, she’d packed half the camp away. It wasn’t like her to back out of a promise, which was lucky because half of her life seemed to be made of them. It was always ‘I’ll find your lost amulet’ or 'I’ll kill the bandits’ with her. She’d kept every one so far, as far as he could tell the only two promises left unfulfilled were saving Nirn and, well, teaching him a spell.

“Are we leaving?” he asked. “I always find it easier to learn when there’s a beer at hand, don’t you think-”

“When we stop for the night, then we can begin. In the meantime, it gives you time to practise your ward spell. Master that, and I’ll determine where we can go from there,” she explained, slipping her blue robes on over her clothes. She was always so matter-of-fact with him, as if she were compensating for his… his everything. There were days when Rumarin wanted to get her drunk, just to see what embarrassing thoughts she kept hidden under lock and key.

“Yes, Ms. Eilonwy,” he said with a smirk, shrugging on his knock-off college robes.

They were on the road within the hour, their camp strapped to the back of the sturdy palamino that Eilonwy had steadfastly refused to name. He’d taken to calling it Apple, anyway. When they were walking it was mostly him who did the talking, he liked to think his jokes brought life to the frosty tundras of Skyrim. Of course, here in the Rift there was already plenty of life to be had, but Rumarin didn’t see much harm in adding to it.

Eilonwy had taken a liking to his jokes right away, even the bad ones. It had been ages since someone had laughed at the punchline to 'Have you seen a healer?’. He had been in the midst of forming a comment about the forest when the first arrow whizzed by them. “Would it be too much to ask for one leisurely stroll through the forest that doesn’t end with a bloodbath?” he moaned.

His companion already had a fireball at the ready, throwing it into the face of the first bandit who stepped into her line of sight. “It seems like the perfect time for you to try out that ward spell of yours,” she said, before charging off. He lost sight of her fast. The bandits came out of the trees from both sides, they were on him in seconds. Apple turned tail and fled, the horse had even less appetite for battle than he. A bandit swung at him from his left, and he’d barely enough time to cast a ward spell as the mace connected with his shield. It shattered in an instant, and he remembered what that Tolfdir had told the apprentice mages. Cast the spell before you need it. Right.

He stepped out of the way of the bandit’s next strike. Conjuring a blade, Rumarin couldn’t help but smile as he swung at his foe’s chest. The bandits had probably been expecting another spell weaver, not another sword to cross blades with. He was ready for the next strike, his ward up well before the mace clashed against it. It was nerve-wracking to see a spiked ball of death mere inches from his arm. As he took the opportunity to stab, he found himself wondering if there was a way to make wards more solid looking.

His blade found the weak point in the bandit’s armor. He didn’t have to guess if that was it for the bandit or not, the look in his eyes said it all. Rumarin pulled out his sword, and slashed it across the bandit’s throat. He never knew if he did it out of pity, or habit. He didn’t have time to dwell on it, as there were others that had to be dealt with. Some fled, he liked to think it was he that frightened them, and not the fireballs that exploded in their faces. The ones that remained soon met the end of his sword.

As the bandits dispersed, he began to think about finding their horse. Hopefully it hadn’t stampeded into a den of frostbite spiders in its haste. Or worse, a dragon. It had happened before, it was a miracle poor Apple still lived to tell the tale.

A cry grabbed his attention, however, and in seconds he forgot about the horse. “Eilonwy?” he called, seeing nothing but trees on either side. A bolt of lightning caught his eye, and he ran towards it. Another bandit lay against the ground, the smell of burnt hair overpowered the smell of blood. Not a few yards away Eilonwy lay, propped up by a tree. She clutched her side, blood seeping between golden fingers. “What happened?”

“She snuck up on me,” Eilonwy muttered, avoiding his gaze.

Rumarin managed a smile, though it felt more forced than his usual grin. “Well, not everyone can be as skilled with wards as I am. Luckily, you’re better at about everything else. Heal up, I think Apple’s half-way to Whiterun by now.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t?”

“Ran out of magicka.”

“Er, here, maybe we have a potion.”

Eilonwy attempted what he thought was supposed to be a smile. It looked more like a grimace. She looked at him, eyes squinting from the midday sun. “When I told you I felt like we’d forgotten to pick something up in Riften…”

Rumarin felt the blood drain from his face. He’d had the rug pulled out from under him before, but never like this. “Shor’s Stone isn’t too far down the road. I could-”

“You need to do it.”

“The horse could probably heal you better than I can.” The joke fell a little flat, but it was hard to think of anything when all he could see was blood on her robes.

“Rumarin.”

“I’ll try. If it doesn’t work, I’ll give you a week to recover before I expect that piggyback ride.” He saw the crows feet in the corner of her eyes crease, and he knew she was smiling.

It had been so much easier when she was the one using a spell on him. There wasn’t any time to tell her jokes about the long-term effects of this one paltry restoration spell. No time to tease her and tell her that she’d probably fall in love with him after this, and if she did he wouldn’t blame her. Women liked the sensitive types, and healers went hand-in-hand with sensitivity.

He held his hand over the wound, trying to remember what it felt like when she felt him. It always felt… warm. It felt stupid to compare it to a hug when their bodies never met, but it was the first thing that came to mind. Rumarin traced his teeth with his tongue, concentrating on that feeling, no matter how stupid it was. After a moment he felt a tingling in his fingers. He heard a tiny jingling sound, like there were small bells ringing in the palms of his hands. The wound on Eilonwy’s side began to close, growing together like it had never been split in the first place. Surprise lit up the bladebinder’s face, and before he could even finish he looked at her, beaming. “You should get injured like this more often! That way I’ll have it mastered in no–” As quickly as the magic had come, it was gone. No sooner than that, he saw her her skin start to bruise a brownish-pink, like the wound had opened up again inside.

Eilonwy didn’t seem put off, however. From her pack she pulled out a tiny blue bottle, and chugged it down. In a flash the bruise was gone, leaving nothing but smooth golden skin behind. “But you- I, did you do this on purpose?”

“No,” she replied, sitting up a little straighter. “Er, yes and no. The bandit did get me, but before I lost my strength I managed to find this on her person.” Eilonwy waved the empty bottle in her hand. “I thought I’d use it as a learning opportunity. It saved me the trouble of staging something else later." Rumarin let out something that was somewhere between a scoff and a sigh, sinking onto his knees. "I was afraid you would catch on. After observing how quickly you learned to use a ward in a controlled, but dangerous environment, I thought it only natural to apply the same to healing spells.”

“You’re…” Words failed him. He had known the mage had a reckless side, every adventure did, but this?

“You’re a healer,” she said. Eilonwy stood carefully, using the tree to balance. A second later her hand reached out to him, waiting for him to take it.

“I am, aren’t I?” he said. Grasping her hand, she pulled him up. Rumarin barely had a moment to steady himself when she pulled again, this time into a hug. After the nonstop action of the past five minutes or so, it was a refreshing change of pace.

“I’m proud of you. Sorry if I, er, if I scared you.”

The nice thing about Eilonwy was that he knew she was being genuine, whether he deserved the comments or not. “I wasn’t scared,” he said, already feeling his predisposition for jokes returning. “Maybe I was a bit… concerned.” She giggled, pulling back to smile at him.

“Does this mean that you’ll buy me dinner at the next town we pass?” she asked, her hands slowly letting go of him.

“I think that part of the deal only extended to me.”

“In that case maybe I’ll have to teach you another spell. While I was lying there I thought about riding through the entrance to the Greybeard’s temple on your shoulders.”

His ears had to be deceiving him, was that a joke? “I’ll consider it.”

Eilonwy laughed again, beginning to walk back towards the path. “I can even incorporate it into your training. I happen to know a few feather spells…”

“Ask me again later,” Rumarin said as he placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her towards where Apple had run. “I need to recover from the trauma of this last lesson first.”

[zenithlux]

Tendrils of Regret - Part 4

Read the story on AO3 here!

You remember the first night V slept by your side. 

It was the second week after he freed you from the demon and the fifth night in a row you’d woken up from horrible nightmares. The demon’s thoughts were still in your head, digging into your psyche both while awake and certainly while you were asleep. And nothing you did helped. Not the soothing tea. Not the warm showers. Not the plants near your bedside or Shadow sleeping beside you. Nothing helped. Not until V came to your aid. 

He entered your room in the middle of the night. “I’m sorry,” He said as he sat on the edge of the bed and reached for your forehead. “You’re burning up.”

You could believe it. You felt warm, especially with tears rolling down your cheeks. “I’ll never escape,” You said, pulling your knees to your chest. 

“There’s nothing to escape from,” V said. “You’re already getting stronger.”

“It doesn’t mean anything if I never sleep.”

“Don’t say never,” He lightly chided. “You’ve had good nights.”

“Only a few.”

“It’s better than none.”

You groaned. “You’re far too optimistic.”

He took your hand, rubbing his thumb along the back of it. “Only for you.” You blushed. The rose on your side table bloomed. You glared at it, but V just laughed. “No use in hiding your moods.”

“Is that why you put it there?”

“I want you to be comfortable,” V said. “If it helps… then it helps.”

And it did help. You felt connected to the plants now, for better or for worse. Their energy was yours to manipulate, even if it would be months before you fully understood how to make it work. Not that you would ever understand why it worked. You just knew it did. “So what’s the plan?”

“You need to sleep.”

You frowned. “After a nightmare like that?”

V sat his cane down. Shadow appeared at his feet, hopping onto the bed and curling up behind you. “Would it be alright if I accompanied you?”

“In bed?”

V nodded. “You do well with Shadow, and I think you might do well with me,” His hand gently moved your hair behind your ear. “It’s your choice.”

Shadow purred as you nodded, holding your hand out to him. “Don’t go,” You whispered. “I don’t want to be alone.” You trusted him already. He’d saved you. He’d protected you from the demons that threatened your life and taught you everything you knew. And maybe you were too trusting, but you didn’t care. You had nothing else. Nothing but your plants, your vine, and him. And V followed as you pulled him, lying on the bed with the covers between you. One hand rested on your side as Shadow’s continued purring began to lull you to sleep. 

“I’m here,” He said. “Just for you.”

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

You woke up slowly as if rising from underwater. You smelled a variety of strong, conflicting scents and, when you opened your eyes, you were overwhelmed by foliage. Plants were everywhere, spilling from baskets and hanging from the ceiling. Your single red rose had turned into twelve blue ones that were all a bit larger than normal. Stems were braided in the corners. Flowers covered every surface, spilling down over your drawers, up your mirror and around the legs of all the furniture. When you sat up, you were relieved to see that none of them were bursting through the floor. No, someone had put all of these in your room, but you had a feeling it hadn’t looked like this when they were done. 

You turned slowly, feet touching the cold, wooden floor. You closed your eyes, feeling for all the plants on the edges of your mind. Once you found a few, you waved your hand, pulling back some of the life within them. When you opened your eyes again, many had shrunk back to an acceptable size. It was then that you realized you were in one of your nightgowns and your hair was still wet. How long had you been out? Who changed you? Why all of this?

A light knock at the door was one you instantly recognized. Lady! You tried to stand, but dizziness had you sitting right back on the bed. “Come in.”

Your jaw went slack when it was Vergil that entered, brushing aside the vines as he closed the door behind him. You suddenly felt very exposed, even though you were well covered. His expressionless gaze almost had you wilting. A few of your flowers shrank with your mood. “What do you want?” You said warily, lacking the energy needed for your usual sass. In fact, you felt drained, way more than you thought you should after absorbing such a large demon. You took one of the roses and lay it in your hand, watching as it withered away, donating its life to you. You placed it back on the table and looked up at him. 

“I’ve been informed that I am, under no uncertain terms, to make a truce with you.”

“A truce?” You echoed. “What?”

“I am to stop antagonizing you and avoid giving accidental commands whenever possible.” You were almost impressed at how even his voice sounded. There was no disdain as far as you could tell, but his face didn’t give anything away. He was talking pure business, and that was something you could manage. 

“That would be appreciated,” You said. 

“I’ve also been informed that I am to be your partner for the foreseeable future.”

“My what now?”  You said. “I don’t need…”

“Neither do I,” He interrupted. “But considering the circumstances behind your… condition… the others have tasked me with ensuring that you are…” His jaw set. “Taken care of.”

You snorted. “What did you put it to a vote?”

“I had no part in that decision,” He said flatly. 

“But you’re going with it anyway.?”

“Unless you tell me otherwise.”

“Is that a sliver of hope I hear?”

His eyes narrowed. “Dante has made it very clear that he would be… disappointed in me if that were to happen.”

“Oh good,” You said. “Then feel free to leave.”

Vergil’s hand tightened on his sword. “Lady and Trish were going to speak to you first, but…”

“But you jumped at the chance?” You said. “How nice of you.”

“Will you…” He took a deep breath to steady himself and started again. “I did some research on your condition, but we need more time to fix it.”

“Will you stop calling it that?” She said. “You make it sound like I’m slowly dying of some horrible disease.”

“There is nothing else to call it,” Vergil said. 

“I suppose “my mistake” would be too difficult for you to say.”

You didn’t think his eyes could narrow any further. They did. “You’re obnoxious.”

“Are you projecting?” 

He took another slow breath, but you saw the way his knuckles were slowly turning white around the hilt of his katana. Why did you enjoy this so much? Normally making someone this upset (angry? furious?) would bother you. But with him you almost felt vindicated. Maybe it was the fact that your “condition” was his fault to begin with. Maybe it's because you were still in denial and expected V to walk in the door at any time. “Look,” He said. “I don’t expect us to like each other, but everyone expects us to at least get along. Either we can act like adults, or we can both go our separate ways and be done with it.”

You were silent for a long moment. We can act like adults. Nice of him to actually point some of the blame at himself, even if it was in a backhanded way.  But could you trust him? A large part of you said no. It was too easy for him to control you. One slip up or wrong word choice and you’d be caught right under his demonic spell. But if he was being serious… and if the others believed in him... 

“Fine,” You said slowly. “But I have some caveats.” 

You swore you saw his eyebrows twitch. “Such as?”

You held up one finger. “Stop complaining about my music. You’re not going to stop me from listening to it.” You held up a second finger before he could respond. “Let me deal with the demons and stop bringing them inside.” Again, he moved to speak, but you put up a third finger. “Bring home something other than pizza for a change.”

You swore you saw the flicker of a smile. “Fine.”

“Fine,” You repeated. “Then I’ll go with you.

“Morrison has called in a few different requests. Dante and the others went for one, and they expect us to handle the others.”

“Urgent?”

“You have some time.” He said. 

You paused a moment. Then, “How long was I out?”

“Two days.”

You choked. “Two days?”

“I don’t like to repeat myself,” He said as he turned back toward the door. “And I suggest you get these plants figured out.”

“I’ll be the one to worry about my plants,” You said. “You leave them alone.”

Vergil paused, glancing back into the room. “He slept here?”

It took you a moment to realize who he was talking about. Odd that he wasn’t saying “I”, but maybe he too was still struggling with it as much as you. “Most of the time. We never had quite so many plants though.”

He paused again. Then, “I was told this was the best way to even out your demonic energy.”

You blinked. “You did this?”

“I’m leaving in an hour,” He said without looking back. “With or without you.”

Then he left, leaving you irrefutably confused and, surprisingly, a little disappointed. 

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

An hour was rather generous of him, so you made sure to use every bit of it. You even set a hard timer on your phone, so he couldn’t possibly argue with you when you sauntered down to the front of the store exactly 59 minutes since he left, ready to go. This time, you had been a bit smarter about your clothing choice, just in case the vine wanted to come out and play again; a low hanging tank top and a jacket zipped up to your neck to hide the scar. And he did scowl at you - you had a feeling you’d never get away from that - but he didn’t complain and off you went. 

Today, you had three separate jobs; two scouting requests (you didn’t find anything on those) and one suspicious potential demon in a greenhouse on the other side of the city. You ignored the irony that you of all people were sent to the greenhouses, but you realized immediately upon your arrival that it may have been for more reasons than just a demon. The plants inside were sickly. Flowers were wilting. Fruits and vegetables were dying. And, if you remembered right, this was a very important source of food for the people that had survived the tree. 

“Can you fix this?” Vergil said as he knelt in front of vines filled with rotten tomatoes. 

You knelt beside him, brushing your fingers against the vegetables. The rot slowly disappeared, and the tomatoes turned a bright, fresh red once again. “I don’t know about all of them,” You said. “Not without some demons for fuel.”

“There are some around,” He said. 

“Hiding?”

“You can’t feel them?”

You paused, pressing your fingers against the ground. You could feel the roots wrapping around themselves and seeds that had yet to grow. But you could also feel strange holes in between them. Small, humanoid shaped holes. “Not directly,” You said. “But…” You twisted your hand, moving a few of the roots. Then, you pulled your hand up, spearing them through the holes. You heard a few screeches that went silent within seconds. “They’re what's eating the plants away.”

Vergil left your side, slicing through the ground over where you felt one of the holes. He ripped a demon body out of it, stabbing it himself before tossing it at your feet. You wrinkled your nose, grateful it wasn’t one of the stinkier demons you’d dealt with over the last few weeks. “How did you manage that?” You said. 

He smirked, but it faded quickly. “The Yamato can cut through anything.”

Yamato. He spoke of it so fondly. Almost like a parent would a child. That was the first time you’d head that name. Dante had proudly named his own sword “Devil Sword Dante” apparently (and you’d teased him over that more than enough by now), but Yamato seemed… different. Just as special, you assumed, but different in a way you couldn’t understand. You wondered if that would be something he’d be willing to tell you about if you asked. 

“There’s more,” He said. 

“You want me to kill them?”

“That’s what you’re here for.”

You rolled your eyes. “And here I thought you didn’t need me.” You hopped around to the other side of the demon - a small, gremlin looking thing - and unzipped the top of  your vest. The vine was quick this time, sucking out the rest of the demon’s blood with eagerness before vanishing again. You zipped up your jacket and felt for more gaps. You found five in total, but only three were big enough to absorb anything from. However, you made sure to pour back whatever you got into the soil, regrowing all the plants you could. 

“Will they grow back normally?”

You blinked before you realized he’d even spoken. “They should if they’re taken care of,” You said. “But I take care of my own flowers so…” You shrugged as you moved back to the entrance. “There’s more nearby. A lot more. I’ll get what I can but you might have to start carrying your own weight.” You gave him a dismissive wave and wandered over to the next greenhouse before he could respond. You did, however, hear a light sigh of annoyance as you walked away. 

The second greenhouse was as infested as the first, with you uprooting the few you killed and Vergil grabbing others before you could. By the third greenhouse, it had turned into something close to a competition, with him moving much faster than a human should and you stretching your mental connection as far as it could possibly go to beat him to the punch. A few times, you swore he just disappeared and wondered if his demon powers gave him the ability to teleport. Of course, that was probably cheating, but you were at the limits of your power, so it seemed only fair he should get to use his own. 

By the sixth greenhouse you were exhausted, and the demons you were finding weren’t enough to sustain the number of plants you’d brought back to life. You sat down outside of it, breathing heavily as you leaned your head back and let your eyes close. It was the last one, but you weren’t sure if you’d be able to fix it today. Even your senses were muddled, as you weren’t even able to feel the roots of the grass anymore. 

But you’d done a great service. That had to be good enough. 

“Done already?” Vergil said.

You opened your eyes just to glare at him. “Not all of us have the stamina you do.” 

Was that another flicker of a smirk? You weren’t certain. “Maybe you shouldn’t have challenged me.”

“I never challenged you,” You said. “I just told you to stop being dead weight.”

Vergil rolled his eyes. “Stay here. I’ll deal with the rest.”

“Don’t you dare think me weak,” you said, throwing your hand out. It was shaky and fell back against your side quicker than you intended. “I’m more than capable of…” Deep breath. “Keeping up.”

“Clearly,” Vergil said as he entered the greenhouse. You heard the screeches of demons behind you and just closed your eyes again. You’d siphon energy from them later. He’d been pretty good so far at leaving everything for you, but you supposed he didn’t need it. He clearly had all the power he needed while you were left to siphon from the leftovers. 

A rustle from nearby caught your attention. You let your head fall to the side, staring out over the open field. You noticed subtle movement in the grass. But there was no wind to stir it up and nobody in the fields to disturb it. Frowning, you forced yourself to your feet and moved over to where you thought the rustling was coming from. You placed your hand on the ground, drawing from the grass so you could sense what was underneath it. 

Your eyes widened. Big holes. Dozens of them. How had you not sensed them before? 

“Verg…”

You screamed as numerous holes burst open at once. The gremlin demons landed and charged straight at you. You tried to get to your feet, but your exhaustion took over and you crumbled. You reached for the grass, begging it to rise for you. But it wilted instead. You snapped your head up as a gremlin jumped at you. 

Blue lines filled the air between you and the demons. The gremlins screamed as they hit the ground, sliced to pieces. Your eyes caught a blue blur, and the others nearby died in an instant. Vergil appeared before you, sheathing Yamato with a loud, deliberate click. You stared at him, mouth agape as your heart pounded somewhere in your throat. “I didn’t sense them.”

“You were too focused on the greenhouses,” He said. 

“You knew they were there?”

“I knew there were more around,” Vergil turned to the carnage of broken soil and torn roots. “We’ll get some soil sent over from Fortuna. Send Dante out to fix it.”

You pushed yourself back to your feet, wincing as you took a few steps forward. Most of the demons had already bled out, but there were a few you could still absorb. I don’t deserve these, you thought. You didn’t kill them. You weren’t stronger than them. But you needed the energy, and all you could imagine was V smiling as he took a step back, ignoring the demons he and the others had killed in front of you. 

You need it too. 

“Thank you,” You whispered as you zipped your coat back up. 

“Is a day enough time for you to recover?”

You closed your eyes and nodded. “There’s plenty of demons here.”

“Dante promised to bring some home.”

“... That’s kind of him.”

Vergil turned away. “We’re done here.” 

“Wait,” You said as you moved to the last greenhouse. 

“What are you doing?”

“Fixing the last one,” You said as you pushed yourself inside.

“You don’t have the energy for that.”

“You don’t know what kind of energy I have,” You said as you continued into the middle of the greenhouse, turning your hand as you went. The plants bloomed as you passed by, smaller than the other greenhouses, but alive and ready for someone else to take care of them. When you were done, you took a deep breath, listening for the vine. It was silent now, and you wondered if you’d managed to even your energy out. “Now we can go,” You said, but jumped when you realized Vergil was in the doorway. 

“You’re pushing yourself.”

“I’m doing my job,” You said. “Why else would you all have sent me here?” You moved to push past him, but he didn’t let you. His gaze locked with yours, but you still couldn’t read his expression. “What?” You said, unable to hide your frustration. “Were you expecting me to just stand around and watch you do everything?”

“No,” He said. 

“Then what is it?”

“Is this how you were with him?”

You froze, confused. “Like… what with him?”

“Loud and careless.”

Your jaw clenched and your eyes narrowed. “We knew how to work together,” You said. “And respected each other, something I’m not even sure you’re capable of.” 

He let you move past him then, and you flipped open your phone to call someone else for a ride.

[devilrising]

Fallen Draco, Pt. 22

This story is following a prompt set out by @mymindsmadness

Summary: AU where Draco is a fallen angel, and the way he gets his wings back is by guiding Harry in defeating Voldemort, but it all goes wrong when Draco starts falling in love with Harry

Word Count (Part 22): 3,056

Word Count (Total): 69,636

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Mentions of abuse/torture (non-graphic), war preparations, beginning of war

***

2nd May, 1998

A hand on my shoulder shakes me awake, and I nearly jump out of my skin. I’m rolled over and shaken again, but I’m already alert. It’s Harry, crumpled with sleep and an expression he’s hidden away on his face. I smile up at him and pull him down for a kiss. We could die today, and I want to make the most of the time we have left.

Harry smiles softly as we kiss, gentle caresses with our lips. He pulls away, his smile fading.

“I’m sorry Dray, but I’m not in the mood.”

I nod. “Fair enough,” I say as I sit up. My head spins and my back cracks. I stretch, my arms lifting above my head. I roll my shoulders, the muscles stretching and burning as I move. It’s too bloody early. All I want to do is flop back over and bury my face into the pillow.

“What’s the time?” I grumble as I stretch.

Harry does a weird half-laugh-half-depressed-breath next to me, and doesn’t even pause to check. “5:31am, the crack of dawn.”

“Great,” I mutter as I stifle a yawn.

Now Harry does actually laugh at me. I want to be offended, but I’m just so happy to see him laughing that I let it slide.

“Here, take this.” A bottle filled with green liquid is pressed into my hand, the glass cold against my skin.

“What’s in it?” I ask.

Harry doesn’t reply, just raises an eyebrow and gestures for me to drink it. Trusting that he won’t poison me, I take the rubber stopper out and knock the liquid down. It tastes fine, nothing noteworthy. Nothing changes either. Until I feel my exhaustion lifting from me, like it’s being pried off my very bones.

“Wideye potion,” I say, suddenly wide awake with not a hint of exhaustion left over.

“Yep,” Harry confirms. “I’ve already taken one, but none of the others will have. Come on.”

Oh yeah, the others. Somehow, I managed to forget that there was a whole army worth of wizards and witches asleep in our house. Our house? Where did that come from?

I rush through getting dressed, putting on the clothes laid out for me at the end of our bed. Hermione must have chosen them, as they’re breathable, light, flexible, and most of all, fit me. They’re made of an especially stretchy faux leather, that’s been charmed to act like muggle gym clothes. The shorts extend to my mid thigh, and the shirt covers down to my elbow. I’ll have to spell shields around the rest of my limbs to protect them from enemy fire.

Harry tugs me out of the room the second I’m clothed, closing the door behind us and not looking back. It’s strange. I assumed that he would want a bit of time to look around. To remember everything that’s happened here, to take time to say goodbye. Chances are we won’t come back here after today. I thought he would have wanted to grieve his godfather’s house, but apparently not.

Voices clamour as we descend to the ground floor, people shouting to each other about trivial things to distract themselves. As we turn to the back door, I take in the masses of witches and wizards lounging around. Some talk with others nearby, some lay on the ground in pretence of sleep. All of them are tired, muscles aching and staring at Harry and I like we’re important. I guess we are; or we will be.

“Start passing these around,” Harry murmurs to me. He blinks and a tray of bottles appears next to me, floating. I want to say something about the display of magic, but his look cuts me off. I lick my lips anxiously and peck a kiss to his mouth. People coo at us but I ignore them and pick the tray out of the air.

“I’ll see you before we leave,” I promise him. Harry nods, all business now.

I weave through the crowd, thinking I might as well start at the back and work my way forward. The people sprawl out for ages, and by the time I’ve walked past everyone and spun around, I can barely see Harry anymore. If I squint, I can make out his shape talking with Hermione and Ron, but I shake my head. I have to work now.

The people around me jump to their feet and run to me, practically begging for this potion that will wake them up. I don’t bother to say that the fact they’re running already demonstrates some level of wakefulness, just hand out glass bottles. They nod and smile at me in thanks, and each grateful person fills a hole in my heart. I am well and truly on the right side now, my past forgiven by each of the people to wordlessly thank me. I can see it in their eyes that it’s more than thanks for the potion.

I smile as I pass out the bottles, enjoying the rhythm of the motions. It’s easy and repetitive, but doesn’t allow me much time to think as people keep asking me questions—most of which I can’t answer. Occasionally, someone will ask me something about Harry and I. I always blush no matter the question, and try to give them an answer. I don’t take offence, don’t think too much about it. These people want a distraction, and if I can give them one that also happens to be about the Boy Who Lived, who’s going to blame me?

As I walk back to the patio to refill my tray a few minutes later, Ron approaches me.

He looks at me curiously, raises a hand as I open my mouth to speak. I close it again, sensing that he wants to say something important. That he needs time to think of how to word it. He takes a deep breath, and starts.

“I haven’t mentioned this before because I didn’t think it was necessary, but since we could die today, I wanted to tell you that I’m cool with it. Cool that you’re with Harry, that you’re a Risen Angel, all of it. Just wanted to make sure you knew,” he finishes with an awkward cough and waits for my reaction.

My heart swells with happiness, a smile breaking onto my face. “Thanks Ron,” I say. “It wasn’t necessary, but I’m glad you told me.” It makes such a big difference, even if I’d never thought he didn’t accept me before this.

“Good, mate,” Ron replies. His face flushes red and he turns around. I follow his gaze to find him looking at Hermione.

“Go,” I nudge him in her direction.

Ron flicks a glance at me over his shoulder, before practically running to her. I watch as he sweeps her into a kiss, one she easily returns. I smile, happy to know that they’re still going strong, even in the face of war.

I refill my tray and continue handing out the potions. People knock them back quickly, draining them. It’s entertaining watching as their faces gain colour again, as their eyes shake off sleep. I walk through the crowd, and each step I take fills me with a sense of purpose.

“Everyone, organise yourselves into your ranks! We will be leaving shortly!” Harry’s amplified voice rings out over the crowd, and everyone stares for a second. Then they start moving all at once. People gather their belongings and cross the ground, arranging themselves into an order I don’t understand. Realising that I have to move at some point as well, I charm the tray to float above my head and make my way over to Harry.

He’s sweaty already, face red and breathing heavily. When I lift an eyebrow, he nods to the stacks of random objects and crates. Portkeys. I smile at him, a soft, private smile to tell him I’m grateful.

I move closer and bend down so I can murmur to him. “I don’t know where to go,” I confess. “I haven’t been told what rank or whatever I’m in.”

Harry bites back a chuckle. “We’re in the front together, just stay close to me and that’s all you need to know.”

I nod at him and take his hand. He grins, kisses me quickly, and then tugs me out onto the grass.

Harry leads me all the way to the front line, and if that isn’t fitting for our relationship as a whole, I don’t know what else could be. Harry pulled me from the back of a war I wasn’t remotely interested in, and lead me all the way to his side. To becoming powerful and strong; to war. I swallow the thought and allow him to guide me.

The few things I have on me should be enough, but I check them all over anyway. There’s little I can’t do with my wand, so the only other things I have are spare wands, bandages in case I lose those wands, and a muggle dagger. I doubt I’ll use any of them, but I was told to take them anyway. I don’t think about where the spare wands came from. With one last look at Harry, I nod. I’m ready.

Arthur Weasley is walking around, random objects floating along behind him. As he works his way across the ranks, he sends them flying towards people in the crowd. He walks closer still, and I watch as groups form around the objects. Portkeys. A tiny vase slaps into my hand, and people rush to hold onto it. Harry’s hand is right next to mine, tan skin against white.

“How did they get so many?” I whisper to Harry.

“Ron persuaded Arthur to take them from the Ministry. Ron then charmed them all himself.” Harry looks extremely proud of his friend.

I nod in understanding. That makes the risk a lot higher—there’s no way the Ministry hasn’t noticed their Portkeys have mysteriously vanished.

“Get down!” Hermione’s voice rings sharply over the crowd, and the assembled soldiers immediately fall to the ground. I linger, not knowing what’s happening. Harry grabs my hand and tugs me down, and I land on top of him in the grass.

“What’s going on?” I ask as everyone around us starts putting up shields.

“It’s an army cry. Someone is armed.”

“We’re all armed!”

“No,” Harry says, no humour in his voice now, “someone outside is.”

“Someone’s outside?”

“Clearly.” Harry’s jaw is firm, teeth gritted. He is the picture of bravery; fake bravery.

I swallow. If Harry is scared, it can’t be good.

I look up, keeping my head down and trying not to attract any attention. I can’t afford to be singled out and killed before we’ve even left. My eyes rove over the crowd, looking for Hermione. I find her standing in the doorway to the house, head covered with her arms and a blue shield wrapped around her. She stands straight, trying to appear strong. She’s terrified though. Shields aren’t meant to be blue, they’re meant to be transparent.

The force of a spell hitting the wards knocks me back to the ground. I land with a thud on top of Harry, who instantly pulls me down again. A streak of red explodes through the air, colliding with the shields over the property. They shouldn’t be able to see the house, so I have no idea how they’re aiming at it. Harry’s wards seem to be holding though. This house has survived a war with Voldemort already, surely it can do so again.

An orange ball slams into the wards, but the shield doesn’t even shake under the force. An idea forms in my mind, and I smile slowly. With a wink at Harry, the sky darkens overhead. The house and property fall into darkness, the sky becoming black. Voices murmur around us, then rise into shouts. The spells have stopped after less than a minute, but no one knows how. I do though. With the sky dark over a non-existent house, the Death Eaters are terrified.

“How did they find Grimmauld?” I say at a normal volume to Harry. Nobody is able to hear over the cacophony of voices anyway.

“I don’t know,” he replies grimly.

“What if they placed a spell on Narcissa when she was taken to the Ministry, and they tracked her back here?”

I turn to find Hermione approaching us, standing normally now that the fear of wards collapsing has disappeared.

“That’s plausible, but the wards should have stopped any tracking spells.” Harry chews the inside of his cheek and tips his head to the side.

“There’s no other explanation,” I say. “It’s either that, or we haven’t been safe the entire time.”

Harry frowns. “Let’s go with Hermione’s idea then.”

“It won’t matter anyway,” Hermione speaks up. “What’s the chance that we’ll come back here after today?”

“Not high,” Ron’s voice joins in. “Sorry mate, but either the house will turn to rubble, or we’ll be dead.”

Harry looks like he could break down at that thought, spoken so plainly, and I wrap my arm around his waist.

A loud, high pitched sound reverberates around the crowd, and everyone stops talking to cover their ears.

“Thank you,” someone says over the noise. It rings out, and shuts off. I turn to look at the voice, and see that it belongs to Kingsley Shacklebolt. “Now that we appear to be protected, it’s time to leave. Your Portkeys will begin to activate within the next two minutes. There are no spares. Make sure everyone is holding on tight, we don’t know what we will see when we get there.”

I swallow hard. We have no idea what we’re teleporting into. It could be a trap, it could be a battlefield. I shake my head and turn back to the group. The vase is cold under my fingers, and I extend it out for the others to take again. Their hands all join mine on the vase, and we stand there waiting. I watch as the people around us move and get into place. So many wizards, so many witches. So many people that might never make it out of the Ministry.

The vase shakes under my hand, and then I’m being squeezed into nothing.

***

The Ministry is devoid of life, silent, their reflections the only ones on black glass. It’s odd. Normally the Atrium would be bustling on a Saturday morning, all the weekend workers eager to get started for the day. There isn’t anyone here though, and that doesn’t sit right with me. It’s too simple. Way too easy.

A flash of white light shoots across the wide corridor, slamming into black marble walls. Outraged cries rise up from our army, and I realise that we’re all still in our ranks and groups. The Portkeys were charmed exceptionally well, and I’m… proud of Ron.

“I saw someone move at the other end of the Atrium,” a wizard with long brown hair tied into a ponytail declares. “It’s no problem though, whoever I saw will be dead now.”

Shouts of fury fill the Atrium.

“Why would you kill when you don’t know who it is?!”

“What spell did you use?!”

“Where was the green light?”

“Why would you encourage the battle to start early?”

Everyone tries to talk over each other, all chastising the wizard and questioning his judgement.

“It’s a spell of my own,” the wizard says. “Not recognisable as the Killing Curse without green light, but essentially the same spell.”

Hermione scoffs from behind me, and I whirl to face her. I had no idea she was so close to me. I feel a slight bit safer with her at my back, knowing how capable she is with a wand.

“We don’t have the time to discuss this,” Lupin says. His voice is amplified to fill the room, the outcome of a very strong Sonorous charm. “We need to keep moving,” he announces before disabling the spell. There’s no room for argument, and the army starts moving towards the elevators.

The lifts aren’t that large, and there aren’t that many of them. It’s a problem normally, with so many workers trying to move about. It’s even worse with hundreds of people trying to get to the same floor at the same time. It would have made more sense to get a Portkey straight to the Department of Mysteries, but the wards prevent any form of magical transportation. The elevators will have to do.

The front line files into the first three lifts, the second line following. Lupin is in the same elevator as me, his face set and jaw clenched. His eyes look far away, as if he’s remembering something else. Something dark. I watch as he shakes his head and leans out the elevator to talk to Kingsley. They agree on something, and then the doors are sliding closed. Harry is opposite me, somehow in the same lift despite the chaos. I smile at him, and he returns it. He reaches a hand out to me, and I take it. It’s warm, full of life. It might not be by the time this ends. We stare at each other for a while, before the elevator’s voice announces the 9th Floor.

We walk out of the lift, standing ready for attack in the corridor. My wand firm in my hand, gripped hard. The incantation for the exploding charm on my tongue, I watch as Ron steps forward. He looks over his shoulder at us, eyes searching someone out in the crowd. He seems to find them, nods, and then turns to face the only door on this floor. Ron leans in close, his wand held up to the lock. Everyone holds their breath as he murmurs a password, moving his wand in a complicated manner. Arthur must have given him the password. I look around and find the man standing in the crowd towards the back, smiling and looking incredibly proud. I’d say I’m right.

The door clicks open. Ron puts a shield charm up immediately, acting as a buffer between the department and the rest of the army.

“Harry Potter…” A voice hisses from inside. “Why are you there? When you could be here, by my side?”

***

A/N: Aaah I’m so sorry for the wait! I got caught up with another fic for a fest (all done now, no I can’t say anything about it), and just didn’t have the time. Also note that I’m going into an exam period, so I can’t promise I’ll get another chapter next week either. But I’ll never drop this fic (especially not so close to the end!) so don’t worry about that. Have a lovely week Xx

Masterlist — Previous Part — Next Part

@draconianhorntail @p3trovass @cowboy-simp @queeneyart @ohheavenlylord @h0pehauntedmyw0rld @unsolicted-chick-picks @itsclayclay @harrybpoetry @slash-slut @jianing2603 @magical-fairy-princess-stuff @give-me-the-queer @youmakeprettybeautiful @hello-i-am-moi @slytherclaw134689 @sinnysin-sin @lafilleetlechatnoir @absolutetrashcan @irrelevantdrarry @glo-up-goddess @birdy1032 @d-addict @pizzasandwich72 @madison-is-a-small-baby @joshoriande @sugarhoneyice-t @imaginemymemories @shipperofalltheships @uniiicornen @thewanderingnomadsworld @randominternetloser @levi7755 @biyaaaaaaaaaa @just-some-bibliophile @pizzabitch @champagnemonarch

[beauregardlionett]

don’t blame it on the kids

AO3 Link

Leaving felt like finally being able to take a clean breath after being stuck inside that house for the duration of that torturous reunion. Her parents were suffocating, the décor was suffocating, and their false kindness and hollow apologies were suffocating. Beau had come so, so close to losing her shit, to just snapping and tearing everything inside those rooms apart. Her friends at her back and her side had been helpful in presence, and while she wished just a little that they had spoken up on her behalf before she started crying, she didn’t fault them for being out of their depth. The majority of them came from broken families; they didn’t have experience with how to react when parents started humiliating their child in front of other people.

Releasing her friends from the hug she had pulled them into, Beau wiped at her eyes as subtly as possible and cracked a self-deprecating grin she hoped passed as cocky, gesturing for them to follow her.

“Let’s get out of this hell hole. We’ve got a witch to find.”

As they walked – not towards town but instead out towards the mountains – Beau let herself fall in at the back of the group, Jester and her spell leading the way. It wasn’t raining too hard anymore; instead it was more of a fine, never-ending mist. Beau tipped her face skyward and closed her eyes, let it wash over her and pretended it could hide her tears and wash away the evidence of how incapable she was of facing her parents.

They walked for a while longer before it got too dark and Fjord made the executive decision to set up camp for the night. Caleb set up the bubble at the base of a half dead tree, part of the trunk inside, meticulous as always. Beau flopped down at the outer edges with her back against the tree, waving off the others’ offers to take watch in her stead. She told them that she didn’t feel like sleeping yet, didn’t mind staying up for a little while.

She found herself unsurprised when twenty minutes later, everyone else was asleep and Caleb stood to pick his way over them and plop down at her side. He didn’t say anything, but Frumpkin the raven suddenly appeared on his arm in a strange blink of the eye kind of trick. He took a moment to scratch two fingers against the back of the bird’s neck before Frumpkin hopped his way over to perch on Beau’s shoulder and settle quite comfortably against the side of her head. His feathers were warm and soft and the raven let out a single, quiet crooning noise before going silent.

They sat like that for a while, Beau not watching their surroundings but instead switching between staring out to the middle distance and flitting her gaze over their sleeping companions. Caduceus’ rumbling snores were a little quieter than usual tonight, more like distant thunder than a storm directly overhead. Yasha seemed content sleeping beside him, and Beau’s lips quirked at the corner as she looked over them. Fjord had taken up position on the opposite side of the bubble, a barrier between anything outside and the rest of their friends. Nott was curled into the space near the curve of his stomach, not touching but clearly taking comfort in presence. Jester had somehow smushed her way rather creatively into the narrow space between Yasha and Nott, snoozing quite soundly as she splayed across the ground.

Everything about the atmosphere inside this little dome radiated with content, and Beau had never been so happy as to revel in it than she was right now.

This was home. This was her family.

“Beauregard,” Caleb’s voice was quiet at her shoulder, and it was only as she looked towards him (careful not to knock Frumpkin) that she realized her vision was blurred. “You are crying.”

She almost pulled out that former excuse, almost said “hayfever” or “allergies”, but something stopped her. Something in the lack of judgment in Caleb’s eyes, something in the set of his mouth, forced the honesty out of her in that moment.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” She let out a very soft breathy huff of a laugh, low and humorless. Reaching up to wipe her cheeks clean with a little more force than strictly necessary, Beau looked away from Caleb and tried to take a steady breath.

“I uhm…I cannot…say that-that I understand, because I do not,” Caleb fumbled heavily through his words, blatantly uncertain of where to place his feet so as not to step on a landmine. Beau stayed quiet and let him try to navigate whatever he was trying to say. She had learned through experience that it was better to let him parse his thoughts out, to slowly untangle what he wanted to say and usually find the correct phrase along the way.

“But I want you to know, we – all of us – are here for you. We obviously do not know…everything. That you have been through. But I for one…I do not wish to watch you suffer through this by yourself.”

Beau stayed quiet for a while longer, eventually reaching up to bury her fingers in the soft feathers at Frumpkin’s neck, earning a quiet noise from the raven at the gesture. Eventually though, she burrowed her way out from behind the walls she had built up and up and up and up and went to greet Caleb for his efforts.

“I never wanted to come back here,” Beau whispered, afraid to lift her voice above that volume for fear of being heard. “I wanted to put this place behind me, forget that I had family here that didn’t want me and move on. I wanted to erase the memory of my dad slapping me across the face the night the Cobalt Soul took me away, to burn the letter my mother sent me, to never have to see TJ’s face because I knew I’d look into those big, innocent eyes and want to keep him safe. But…here I am.”

Frumpkin pressed a little more into Beau’s absent scratching and she met the gesture with a little more attention to her ministrations. Caleb remained quiet and present, solid and reassuring, at her side.

“Do you think I should forgive them?” Beau eventually asked the silence around them, eyes on Jester’s splayed sleeping form. “My parents?”

“You are asking someone who…you know what I did to my parents. I would give…anything to have more time with them. But for you, as I said, I don’t know everything that has happened between you and them, so I don’t think I can necessarily tell you what the right answer is here.”

It was kind of the answer she was expecting, but it still didn’t help and Beau felt more lost and useless than ever.

“But…I can say,” Caleb continued suddenly, and Beau glanced sideways at the wizard, mildly surprised. “You do not seem…happy with them. And from what I gathered, they were justifying – poorly – mistakes they made and trying to blame you for reacting as you did. Which I can tell you is wrong on their end. You should not be blamed for doing what you did in a bad, complicated situation. Especially since you were a child at the time.”

She wasn’t sure how to reply to all of that. Somewhere, tangled messily with the younger version of herself that believed everything that had happened was her fault, the logical version of Beau was calling out that Caleb was right. The Beau she had cultivated on the road, the one she had wanted to become when she was years younger and full of hope for a life of adventure that would expand her family’s profit; that Beau was shouting at the top of her lungs that Caleb had hit the nail on the head.

“But,” and this was the weakest version of herself speaking, the child that had taken to heart the fact that her father and mother had paid to have her dragged out of their home while expecting her replacement. “Maybe if I had just listened…and done what they asked, things would have been better and I could have made them proud. Maybe they wouldn’t hate me.”

“Well,” Caleb’s thick accent drew her back, Beau blinking the family around her back into focus, banishing the imagined faces of loving parents from behind her eyelids. “I would hate to think where we would be…without you.”

Abruptly, Beau remembered the words she had spoken to Fjord back in the tavern a few days prior. She was scared of facing her past because it was a past that didn’t include the Mighty Nein…and that she was happy here, like this. That she was scared of losing that happiness.

This was why.

She had been back in that god damn house for less than two hours and she was already trying to place the blame on herself, to maybe reason a way into fixing what had never been whole. In the year she had spent alongside this band of misfits, they had given her more than her parents ever had.

“Jester said she thought…that my dad wasn’t lying about caring about me. But I don’t believe her, not really. I just think he’s convinced himself that everything that happened three years ago was in no way his fault. I think he believes that he’s blameless…and I’m not ready to forgive him.”

She looked over at Caleb, kept her fingers buried in the warm, soft feathers of Frumpkin’s neck and took a tremulous breath.

“I don’t know if I ever will.”

Caleb met her with a steady look, and a firm nod. It wasn’t agreement, and it wasn’t disagreement. It was approval for a choice that Beau had made on her own, it was a reassurance that he would support her no matter what choice she decided to make in the end. He would not tell her what to do – none of them would. But they would stand at her back and Caleb would return the favor she so often granted. Caleb would give his shoulder for her to grab onto if she needed a crutch to steady herself on, a reminder that she wasn’t by herself in any of this.

Beau was so tired of crying, so drained from digging up emotions that she rarely ever let see the light of day. Despite this, her eyes stung with tears that lingered there and didn’t fall. She was too exhausted to cry for real now.

Caleb, in a rare display of physical affection, reached out, gently shooed Frumpkin off Beau’s shoulder and into the monk’s lap. He placed his arm around her shoulders, occupying the space Frumpkin had just been in with a steady hand, drawing her into his side. Beau went willingly, leaning into reassurance offered so unconditionally from someone who believed so whole-heartedly in the goodness inside of her.

This was reminiscent of their post-battle ritual, commiserating their wounds and finding solidity in the fact that they had managed to survive once again. In a way, Beau supposed that this was technically post-battle – one she had had to fight on her own. Caleb was offering her a second layer of protection, tucked into his shoulder inside the bubble. He was letting her take her time to lick her wounds and feel a little miserable before they continued on towards their goal in the morning.

Sniffling against the pressure of a cry-induced stuffed nose, Beau’s eyelids drooped with exhaustion and she tucked herself a little more securely against Caleb’s side and wrapped a careful had around Frumpkin in her lap. Tension unwound so rapidly from her muscles at the foreign feeling of total safety that Beau felt a little off kilter. But she was too tired to dwell on it.

“I am…sorry. By the way,” Caleb murmured, his mouth near her hairline as he tipped his temple against the top of her head. His fingers tightened a little around her shoulder as he apologize, and Beau hummed with sleepy confusion, brow crinkling slightly as she fought to stay awake.

“What for?” she whispered in return, petting her fingers against Frumpkin’s wing.

“For asking you to come back here in the first place. I know I often tend to put Nott above everyone else, but I never should have asked this of you.”

Caleb’s voice was tight with guilt, and Beau found herself drifting back to a few days prior, when the wizard had asked if she would do this for their friend. Not his friend, their friend. Maybe he thought it was selfish (and maybe it was), but Beau knew that this had to happen eventually, and she would stand by Nott through anything. Even through facing her family.

She thought of Nott happily popping open an expensive bottle of her family’s wine to spite her parents, of a sharp grin full of teeth and a lie meant to terrify her father, of clattering cups and a jade rabbit statue sitting pretty in Nott’s little hands. She thought of that night at the tavern, their ridiculous conversation about crushes, and Nott proudly proclaiming everything her little Luc was good at, like any decent mother would.

“If I knew this all would have happened when you asked, I would still say yes,” Beau murmurs after the silence stretched between them. “Nott is my friend too, and this is an important lead for her. You didn’t do anything wrong, Caleb.”

Seemingly not knowing how to respond to her lack of anger towards him, something he had clearly expected, the wizard remains silent and just wraps his arm that much more firmly around her shoulders. Beau hums quietly again and finally lets her eyes flutter shut for the night. She’s never felt safer than this in her life.

“Thank you,” she muttered, hoping her words were still coherent enough for him to understand as she dropped off to dreamless sleep.

[golbrocklovely]

the chosen daughter // colby brock - chapter eight

A/N: alrighty yall. here’s the next chapter! hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think of this. i’d love to hear what you got to say. also let me know if you want to be added to the taglist. have a good one yall, and i’ll see you later :)

story description

taglist: @far-to-many-bands , @idfk-tbh-oops , @muted-mayham , @ughwhyislifesohard , @justtanerd , @ashyoungxblood ,  @cmburgos

trigger warning: cursing, blood drinking, mentions of: sexual language, supernatural powers, needles, some violence

word count: 1822

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

Caleb sank his teeth back into my skin, my eyes tearing up from the pain. He gulped down once, shoving me forward into the wall suddenly. I felt drained, like I had to fight to keep my eyes open and my body upright.

If I pass out, I'm done for.

I slowly turned to him, his body slumping against the couch. Caleb groaned in pleasure. "God, I don’t know what your blood is doing to me... but I feel so fucking good!"

He licked his fingers, my blood soaking them. I forced down vomit that rose into my throat. Glancing down at my wrist, I realized the bracelet Colby gave me. I clicked it twice, leaning my back against the wall.

Sam, Jake, and Kevin are all downstairs. They'll know I'm in trouble. Colby... God knows where he is.

Somebody will come... right?

I brought my focus back onto Caleb. I wasn't sure what was happening to him. How was he able to use his powers? Was he faking it before?

Was it my blood?

I thought about fighting him off, getting a stake from the kitchen. I stared at him; he was still caught up in his own world, sucking his fingers covered in my blood. I stumbled towards the kitchen. Caleb stood up, blocking my way. He smiled brightly, grabbing my arms and pushing me into the corner, far away from the kitchen and the front door.

"Fuck... All I can think about is draining you right here and now." He bit his lip, looking at me like I was a meal.

"If you do that...  you won’t feel what you’re feeling anymore. All my blood will be gone and you won’t be able to use your power. You want powers, don't you?" I pleaded, trying to catch my breath.

"You’re right," He continued. "But why don’t you let me have another taste? Please? I promise to be good."

I glared at him, not wanting to speak. He stepped closer to me. "Wait, I don’t have to ask now."

His aura appeared, it waved slightly as he gazed into my eyes. "You’re gonna give me your blood, but you won’t remember."

"As if you won’t take it anyway." I hissed.

Caleb backed up slightly, his mouth gaped open as his aura disappeared. "How are you not under my spell? I have powers now and they won’t even work against you?! Maybe I need more of your blood."

"Stop! Don't fucking touch me!" I exclaimed as he stepped closer.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a figure creeping towards Caleb.

Caleb smirked. "There's no point in resisting-"

A needle was slammed into Caleb's neck, the clear liquid injected into his body. At the end of the needle rested Sam's hand. Caleb turned to see Sam, reaching out to grab him, but he collapsed; out cold.

My body almost fell to the floor, finally relaxing. Sam wrapped his arm around me quickly, catching me.

"A pineapple Angel face, huh?"

~ \ / \ / ~

After Caleb was knocked out by a liquid dose of the Angelica flower, everyone came up to the apartment. They knew that when he awoke, he would be confused and possibly angry. Colby and Kevin worked on getting my blood out of his system by pumping him full of vampire blood, which would counteract mine. They gave him human blood to speed up the healing from the vile I smashed onto his face.

That had been two hours ago. Caleb still hadn’t woken up yet.

Mike sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I still don't understand. Are you sure he had an aura?”

"Yes. 100%. He tried to use his powers at the club tonight, but nothing showed up then. But the moment he got my blood into his system, his aura was there, and he was able to use his powers. Ask Jake. He knows." I informed.

"Jake said he barely remembers anything. All of his memories of tonight are fuzzy." Mike stated.

"Maybe that's Caleb's power... confusion." I trailed off, looking at the floor.

"Even so, he shouldn't have any. He's too new to have any. Why did your blood give him powers, or at least speed up the process of getting his?" Mike replied.

"Can human blood do that?" I asked.

Kevin shook his head, stepping out of Sam's room where Caleb laid. "No. Never in all of our research has that been able to happen."

"What the fuck is in your blood?" Mike mumbled.

"How would I know?" I hissed.

He stood up suddenly, stepping towards me. "Maybe we should test it."

Sam stepped in between us. "Not tonight, Mike. Let's all give it a rest. Jade almost died because she was left alone. Maybe we should be more concerned about that."

Mike rolled his eyes, walking into the kitchen with Kevin. Colby slid out of Sam's room silently, going towards them.

Sam turned to me, a soft smile resting on his lips. "Are you okay?"

"I'll manage." I grumbled.

He nodded his head. "I'll be right back..."

Sam stepped out of the apartment, closing the door behind him. I glanced over at Jake, who was by the window away from everyone. He hadn't spoken a word since everyone got here. I walked over to him, tapping his shoulder lightly. "Hey Jake."

He kept his gaze out the window. "Hi."

"Are you okay?" I queried.

Jake scoffed. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"Well... I'm alright. I survived." I responded.

"No thanks to me." He grunted.

"Don't beat yourself up over this Jake. God knows why my blood gave Caleb powers. None of us knew that was gonna happen." I admitted.

Jake finally turned to me. "I still should have been able to stop him. He's a newborn."

"He's still a vampire. With powers... something you don't and can't have." I argued.

"You could have died, and I did nothing to stop it." He retorted.

"Jake, I don't blame you for what happened tonight. Besides, you did help." I mentioned.

"How?" He doubted.

"You told Sam to get me a pineapple angel face drink." I informed

"What the fuck is that?" Jake questioned.

I snickered. "Enough of a clue to get him up here in time to knock Caleb out."

He stayed silent for a second. "...I helped?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Do you really not remember?"

"No. Everything's a bit... blurry. Like, I watched a movie of it happening instead of living through it." He confessed.

"I'm thinking that could be his power. Maybe he has the ability to confuse people." I noted.

"I still feel shitty about it. Was there any way you could have made me stay with you and him?" Jake speculated.

"No. He said that he was planning to snap your neck if I didn't get you to leave. So, I did what I could." I continued, crossing my arms. "Besides, I had it under control."

He chuckled. "Those bite marks say otherwise."

"Well... my under control means me getting hurt and you staying alive. So, I succeeded." I joked.

Jake stared into my eyes. "I promise you this won't happen again. I'm sorry you got hurt."

I leaned up and hugged Jake tightly. "I forgive you, Jake."

As I looked over Jake’s shoulder, I could see Colby gazing at us. Gazing at me. His full attention was on Jake and I. His eyes were soft, along with his expression.

Was he listening to us?

A light groan came from Sam's room. The door opened and Caleb stepped out, slowly stumbling. Everyone was on attention in a second. Jake stepped in front of me, hiding me from Caleb.

"Woah, what the fuck... happened?" Caleb moaned.

Mike spoke. "Dude, you drank a lot."

Caleb turned his head towards the kitchen. "Mike. Colby. Didn't even know you guys were here."

"I went out to a different club tonight. Same with Mike. Can't give Kevin all of our business." Colby joked.

"Yeah. Um... how much did I drink?" Caleb asked.

"A lot, bro. You pretty much emptied out my liquor supply." Kevin smiled.

"I... don't really remember doing that." Caleb admitted.

"What do you remember?" Mike stepped forward.

Caleb answered. "I drank, and drank, and drank... and then I came up here. But that's it."

"Jade found you passed out on Sam's bed." Kevin replied.

Caleb turned his head towards me. "You did?"

I nodded my head, my body on edge and unable to speak.

He nodded softly to himself. "Okay, I think I'm gonna head out. It was nice seeing you all again. And it was nice meeting you… Jade."

It felt like his eyes lingered on me for too long. I tried to slow down my breathing as Kevin wrapped his arm around Caleb. "Here. Let me walk you out, Caleb."

We all watched as Kevin followed Caleb out of the apartment and down into the club, where we could no longer see him.

“Oh, thank God.” I uttered, taking a deep breath.

“He’s not coming back, right?” Jake inquired.

Colby shook his head. “He only comes around once every couple months. So, no. Kevin’s gonna make sure he takes an Uber out of here so he’s not staying around.”

“Do you think he really forgot everything?” Mike crossed his arms.

“The Angelica flower would definitely do that to him.” Colby surmised.

The front door to the apartment opened unexpectedly, our attention turning towards it. Sam and Katrina appeared, awkward smiles resting on their faces.

“Hey guys… did Caleb leave?” Sam questioned, pulling Katrina in to the apartment.

“Yeah, you just missed him.” Colby divulged.

Sam commented. “Good.”

Mike peaked around Colby. “Hey Kat.”

Kat waved. “Hi Mike.”

Sam cleared his throat. “So… Colby, Jake, Jade… I wanted to introduce you to Katrina.”

Jake walked up to Katrina and shook her hand. “Sup, I’m Jake.”

She shook his hand back. “Yeah, we met the night I met Sam.”

Colby walked up and Sam turned towards him. “Colby. Katrina. Katrina. Colby.”

“Hey.” Katrina smiled.

“Hello.” Colby greeted.

“And…” Sam began.

Kat interjected, sticking her hand out. “Jade. It’s nice to meet you again. Especially when I’m not drunk.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” I slid my hand into hers.

The moment our skin touched, a shock-wave ran through my body. It must have ran through Katrina’s too because for a split second, I saw a white glow appear around us both. I could feel the energy land in my crystal necklace that rested against my chest. The sensation made Kat and I jump back.

“Woah, what happened?” Sam gasped.

We both stared at each other, unable to speak.

No one else saw it. It was just us two that did.

I shook my head. This night was going on for too long. Maybe I was going crazy.

“Um… static shock.” I chuckled.

A tight-lipped Kat nodded. “Yep. Really strong… static shock.”

<< CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 9 >>

[imagine-loki]

Gifted

Title: Gifted (Sequel to Giftless)

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 42/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine that you are Stark’s niece and you secretly share a strong relationship with Loki since he entered the crew. One day you get hurt so bad during a mission that you are about to die.  Loki knows a spell that will save you and share his immortality with you but you and he will be linked forever sharing thoughts, pain, emotions…

RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS:  Also on AO3 click here

You were stuck out in the cold for far too long. It took forever for the fire department to clear the tower after the ‘fire’. Fury didn’t want to tell the cops, or the press who had arrived about Balder attacking you.  

When they finally let you back inside, you and Loki tried to sneak in among the crowd. You didn’t want to talk to Fury, Tony, or Bruce. You had a feeling there would be daggers drawn the moment any of them tried to talk to you right now. You weren’t particularly pleased with any of them.  Unfortunately, Fury caught you trying to sneak in. Tony caught Pepper and flung her over his shoulder while Pepper yelped indignantly. Tony was glad that she was ok and wanted to make sure she stayed that way.  “Stop that. You’re not hurt,“ Tony scolded her, worry in his voice. "And if you try to guilt me over your poor cat ears from the fire alarm, and my niece…” Pepper had cat ears, quite a lot of the time as she was learning to control her powers. 

"Geez, Tony. Like I’d do that,” Pepper grumbled. “Now put me down,” she whined.

“Nope. You’re safe where you are,” Tony replied. She stood no chance overpowering Tony, though she could usually keep him in line, except when he was that worried.  Tony was worried now.  

“All of you, Veronica, you too,” Fury signed his words as he spoke. “My office. Now.” He pointed a finger at you. You hadn’t even done anything this time.  “Don’t you even think about disappearing. My office.“ you glared at him and pointed to the tape on your mouth. "We will discuss it in my office. Move your asses,” Fury ordered. You clutched your blanket more firmly around yourself and Loki wrapped a protective arm around your shoulders. Tony led the way to Fury’s office with Pepper still draped over his shoulder.

“Your uncle picked up bad habits from Thor,” Pepper complained. You shrugged miserably. You knew what happened wasn’t your fault, but you still felt bad about it.

“Darling, it is not your fault,” Loki reminded you, sensing your emotions. Fury growled. Loki turned and glared at him. “It is not,” he told Fury firmly. “You cannot blame a victim for being attacked,”

“It’s still her power that caused all of this,” Fury insisted. You heard the hesitation in his voice, though. He just wanted something to be angry with. You filed in to Fury’s office. There were only two chairs besides Fury’s in the room. Veronica got one of them without question. The rest of you had an extremely polite argument of 'no you take the other chair’. “Kat, just take the damn chair,” Fury growled at you when he got tired of the argument. You sank into it, but shrank back from his anger. Fury was about the only one here you wouldn’t and couldn’t stand up to. He had basically been your dad for the last five years you’d lived in the tower. He was also always so loud and drill-sargenty. Loki stood behind your chair, his hands on your shoulders, a reassuring presence.  

“Tony! Put me down!“ Pepper whined. Tony shifted Pepper so she was cradled in Tony’s arms instead of thrown over his shoulder. "This isn’t better,” Pepper grumbled, but hse was purring, so her argument was invalid. You tried really hard not to laugh. You couldn’t laugh properly right now anyway, so it really was best not to try.

“Soldiers,” Fury snapped. You all looked at him again with equal looks of embarrassment and shame. “Report,” he ordered, staring straight at you. You huffed, grabbed his keyboard off his desk, and turned his computer monitor. You typed a lot faster than you signed. So you typed up your report while Fury and the others watched the screen. Loki occasionally added a detail or two. Veronica signed her part of the evening’s events. Fury took in everything that was said. “Kat, I know this isn’t your fault, but this curse is a danger to all of us, especially if Balder can attack you even with Loki’s magic. There’s a solution. No one in this room is going to like it, but I don’t care. You’re all going to agree to it anyway, or Kat will have to spend her time in a detainment room downstairs until R&D or Loki’s people come up with a permanent solution,” Tony, Loki, and Pepper all growled at that suggestion. The detainment cells were awful. You were not getting locked up for something you couldn’t control.

“What is your solution?” Tony asked, trying to keep his voice calm. You knew it was only intense training that kept his temper in check.  

“There is a safehouse outside of the city. It’s miles from anyone…” Fury started.

"No!” Tony yelled. “You can’t send her out to the middle of the nowhere alone,”

“You will not send her anywhere alone,” Loki added, though his voice was calm.  It was the dangerous sort of calm that only he could pull off.  

“It’s a precaution. I’m not going to stop you from going to class, or even from coming here to work in the infirmary, as long as Loki’s with you, but you cannot sleep where you’ll be a danger to others. It’s too dangerous. That rules out both here, and your apartment. So here are the options. Either you agree to stay in the safehouse, or I’m locking you in detainment right now until R&D comes up with a solution,”

[Safehouse it is] you signed.

“Then I am going too. I am not leaving you alone, especially while Balder is after you,” Loki insisted.

“That is a stupid-ass decision,” Fury replied. “Balder has already proven he can get through your magic,“ he reminded Loki in a growl.

"I can protect myself,” Loki grumbled.

“Fine, but I take no responsibility for your decision,” Fury grumbled. He gave you more stupid rules that you only half paid attention to. Something about only leaving the safehouse for class and healing people in the infirmary. The adrenaline of tonight’s adventures was wearing off. “Go pack a bag, both of you. I want you at that safehouse before she crashes again.” You glared at him, but he was right. He was also unaffected by glares.

[Take this stupid tape off] you signed at him angrily. He shook his head.

“Can’t. It dissolves in 24 hours. Bruce hasn’t figured out how to make it dissolve any faster. That is why it is a last resort.” You glared at him and somehow managed to summon a fireball and sign angrily at him.

[This was put on your face after I woke up]

“You knocked out half of the compound before Veronica hit the alarm and no one knew why or how, especially since Loki was one of the ones you incapacitated. Of course I’m sorry now that I know the whole story, but I had to act in the entire tower’s best interest. Now both of you get out of here. All of you are dismissed.” You all rushed out of Fury’s office. No one liked being there and you were pissed.

“Kat, are you going to be ok?” Tony asked. 

You nodded. [I’m fine, Uncle Tony. Stop being overprotective. I’m not even going to be alone] you signed at him quickly, grumpy with lack of sleep and this stupid punishment. You still gave him a grudging hug. And would have kissed his cheek, but circumstances…

“Do you need you to kiss his cheek since you cannot?” Loki asked with a glint of mischief in his eyes. You tried to laugh, it wasn’t a great laugh, but they got the point.

“That would be a firm no,” Tony grumbled with sarcasm in his voice.

“I’ll do it for you,” Pepper volunteered, and proceeded to kiss Tony’s cheek.

“An elegant solution. Come, darling, we need to pack so we can get going. Fury wants us to drive there,” Loki reminded you of part of the conversation you had zoned out on. You nodded and headed upstairs. You didn’t care much about packing clothes. You and Loki could both summon new clothes whenever you felt like it. You were more interested in making sure you had your laptop, phone, a few books, and various chargers. You also packed a few clothes, just in case. Loki’s bag looked pretty similar, but also included the handheld game system you had bought him a couple years ago. You handed him your car keys. You didn’t feel confident driving right now and he didn’t argue.

Tony and Pepper were waiting for you at the front door. You said your goodbyes to them and Loki summoned some real clothes for himself, just in case you were pulled over. You highly doubted that would happen, and the cops would probably be more concerned as to why you had unremoveable tape over your mouth than what Loki was wearing. You still kept your head down, hiding behind your hair as you walked out to your car. Luckily, all of the cops and firefighters had left.

You zoned out for the drive to the safehouse, but managed to stay awake. You also didn’t get pulled over. The safehouse was a little two bedroom house in the middle of nowhere. You trudged into the house and looked over both bedrooms and picked the one with the larger bed.

“Darling, before you even try the self-sacrificing, not sleeping thing, remember that we are safe for the night because of that tape, which I will be killing Doctor Banner for,” Loki told you as you set your bags down. You nodded. He was right. You couldn’t hurt him and you could handle nightmares. “Are you sure you’re ok?” Loki asked before you could crash in the bed.

/I’m fine/ you replied simply. /Just tired, and still pissed at Fury, Tony, and Bruce. It’s been a long night and I need some real sleep. Balder gutting my friends constantly and then harassing me in my dreams is really draining/ you whined. 

He chuckled. “Very well”

The next day was awful for both of you.  You still had classes, and had to keep an illusion up all day so no one would see the stupid tape. At least they were all expecting you to sign everything all day anyway. You and Loki both didn’t eat all day. He refused as it would be rude. You told him repeatedly that he was being stupid, but he wouldn’t listen. The end result was you both being hangry on your individual ends of the couch until about 4am when the tape finally dissolved and you gorged yourselves on pancakes. Somehow the little hole in the wall pancake place was open at 4am and they fed you as many pancakes as you wanted. Neither of you questioned why they were open at 4am, or why a bunch of supers in costume were eating there at 4am, looking like they just got off patrol.

The next two weeks were also hell. You tried to sleep as little as possible. You didn’t want Loki in danger. After a week of your refusing, and his having to soothe you through more than one depressive episode over the whole situation, the isolation and helplessness of the whole situation was getting to you, he promised to leave the house for the night as long as you promised to get some sleep and let him shield the house. You agreed out of desperation and passed out the second he was gone.

You were both grateful a week later when Frigga called you to return to Asgard. She had found the cure at last.

[violet-knox]

The Red Carpet Down Memory Lane

Year 6 - Chapter 41

Summary: Unable to fall asleep, Severus moves to the common room where the flames of the fire indulge him in a trip down memory lane.

Word count: 2482

Warnings: mention of blood, mention of possible death (recollection of what happened in chapter 22)

A/N: Sorry my heart wasn’t in the last chapter. Hopefully this one is a little better. Thank you @living-in-margins for helping me get over my writers block and for the suggestion that inspired this chapter.

Previous Chapter - Chapter 1

~

Severus rolled over in his bed, eyeing the shared clock on the wall of his dorm. He could barely make out the hands in the darkness of the night, but the distinct shadow of the big hand told him it was some time around two in the morning. He closed his eyes once more, shifting over on his back, hoping his body would have mercy on him tonight, allowing him to indulge in a peaceful sleep. 

He’d assumed that his sleeping schedule would click back into place when he got back into his regular daily schedule, but he’d unfortunately been spending most nights staring at the ceiling while he listened to his dormmates sleep soundly in their own beds. The last few weeks had been especially hard on him. In fact, he’d noticed that ever since he’d bought that locket, draining his entire summer savings, he’d barely managed to sleep at all. He’d thought that day had helped bring him clarity, helped him face the reality of his situation, but because he was unwilling to accept the truth, he’d only managed to find himself in a constant state of sorrow. 

Opening his eyes, he stared up at the ceiling in frustration as he gave up finding sleep tonight. The wheels in his head were spinning too quickly for his liking and the sight of that locket haunted him. He slipped his left hand under his pillow and tugged on the chain his fingers found. The locket swung from his left hand as he brought it forward, capturing it with his right. He stared at it, holding it so close to his face, he could feel the cold metal of the chain wrapped around his wrist graze his nose. Each time he picked it up, he found himself concentrating so hard on it, as if the mere glimpse of his intimidating stare would scare the locket in displaying the name he wanted to see. Of course, it hadn’t, though he could swear your name had become more crisp compared to the first time he’d seen it battle Lily’s. He could at least clearly make out the last two letters of your first name now and if he squinted hard enough, he could read your full name without the sight of Lily’s trying to overtake it. Yes, it was clear to him that his heart had begun leaning toward you, although he suspected it was out of pure anger and determination rather than love. 

Thinking through what happened that night, he couldn’t help but try and find ways to blame Lily for it. He knew it was absurd, she had nothing to do with the situation and he wasn’t even sure she’d known that you were together, but that didn’t stop the burning ball of furry in his stomach inflate to a concerning size. 

Severus sat up in his bed, looking around the dorm in envy of his sleeping mates. He wanted so bad to ease those heavy bags under his eyes, to find some manner of rest tonight, but he knew he wouldn’t. He’d had enough nights like this to recognize when his mind would refuse to shut off for the night. So, in the heap of frustration and endless torment, he removed the covers from the bed and grabbed his bag, making his way to the common room. 

It was so peaceful here, and he loved the crackling of the fire, especially during harsh winters such as the one that had manifested this year. He approached the couch near the fireplace, slugging his bag over it as he sat on the floor, leaning his back against the frame. He felt the heat warm him as he brought his knees to his chest and hugged them while gently playing with the locket in his hand. He could still remember the day you’d brought him into the Gryffindor common room, cuddling up next to him. Though the Slytherin’s fireplace was much larger than yours, the warmth he felt right now was nothing in comparison to that of which he felt that day.

He peered into the raging red flames and sighed. He’d always loved this deep coral color, and he could still remember the first time his chest inflated with comfort when he fell in love with the soft warmth the color had to offer. He was nine at the time, taking a walk to a park nearby, the same one where he’d met up with you over the summer. He’d been heading towards an old tree simply hoping for a place to sit without the sound of his parents shouting ringing in his ears when his eyes caught a glimpse of a red sea, carelessly floating in the air. He was stunned to say the least. It was an overwhelming sensation he’d never felt before. One he’d grow to love and cherish. But that day, that day was the first time he’d feel the sting of an unreturned love, the first time he’d felt unworthy, the first time he’d felt the need for company, the first time he’d seen Lily. 

It had taken him so long after that to build up the courage to talk to her, and when he finally set his plan in motion, it didn’t go as well as he would have liked. He remembered how disappointed he’d been when she’d thought he’d insulted her by calling her a witch. He felt like he was chasing a friendship he knew wasn’t meant to be that summer, but he didn’t give up. He stayed by her side even after he watched her get sorted into Gryffindor.

Was that how you’d felt the first time he met you? That day you slide open the compartment door, he’d never even considered speaking to you, let alone befriending or dating you. Then you’d actually tried to pursue a friendship with him, one you patiently waited a year for as he had no interest in being any closer than acquaintances back then. Oh how foolish he’d been, how ignorant and stupid he’d been. How could he treat you like that when he knew just how awful it felt to be on the receiving end of rejection? 

Severus blinked, snapping his mind back to the common room as he let out a long frustrated sigh. He wanted nothing to do with you two year ago, and now he felt like he couldn’t live another day without you in his life. He pulled on the strap of his bag, allowing it to swing over the couch before unzipping it. He removed his book from it and set aside the bag as he opened it on his lap, placing the locket over the right page as he peered at the note on the left.   

You once handed me your most loved book to show me how much I mean to you. I carry that book with me every day to remind me that there is someone in this world that cares about me as much as I do them…

Why did this note cause his mind to spin so much? What was it you were trying to tell him? What part of this note did he need to finally realize what it was he was supposed to realize? 

His fingers lingered over your signature. With all my love. You put so much care into this note. The entire gift was so thoughtful and what had he done for you? He’d turned his back on your friendship, betrayed you, he’d even invented a spell that resulted in your near death. His mind brought him back once more to a past memory as the red flames of the fire settled into his sight once more, only this time, the red curtain that appeared was splattered across the floor, seeping from the broken figure before him. Fear had never prickled him harder than it had that day. He couldn’t bear the thought of watching you bleed out in his arms, the life in your eyes slowly slipping away. You’d remained so calm, focused on fixing his mistakes and as he healed you, he waited. Waited to hear the rise of your voice as you shouted at him, telling him you never wanted to see him again. But it never came. He’d instead heard those words from Lily not long after when she’d explicitly voiced her disapproval in the friends he’d chosen, not wanting to hear the apology he had after letting that awful word slip his lips. She hadn’t even asked him if he shared the interests his friends did, she merely assumed he did. 

Though she wasn’t wrong, he realized you’d made no such assumption and even offered him the benefit of the doubt, letting him explain himself. You’d stuck by him after that horrible incident while Lily simply abandoned him, defending his tormentors instead.  

… I carry that book with me every day to remind me that there is someone in this world that cares about me as much as I do them… with all my love

He read that sentence over and over again. “Because I care for you, I am willing to wait for you to see that I’ll always be here for you.” Why? Why would you wait for him again after what he’d done because, no, this wasn’t the first time he’d hurt you.

The fire crackled once more as the flames reach for Severus, the crimson in its core overtaking his thoughts. He saw a spot of red surrounded by an ocean of green as he heard angry footsteps rushing away from him. He hadn’t even given you that rose, nor had he explained its purpose. But you’d figured it out, you knew exactly what he was thinking because you knew him so well. It was strange how close you two had grown over such a short period of time. Well, two years wasn’t short, but it was in comparison to the amount of time he’d spent trying to get close with Lily. He’d never managed it of course. She’d pushed him away before he got the chance to, but you remained. You stuck by him, waited for him, forgiven him. 

Severus felt his mind fog as his body began to shut down. He was so tired, he just needed a few hours of sleep, but that irritating click at the back of his head just wouldn’t allow it. He looked back into the flames and waited for it to pull him back into another memory, one he hoped would be more pleasant than the last two. 

The red that appeared before him was uniformed and accompanied by the same toned gold, stripped against one another. The Gryffindor common room. He’d been here once and though he hated the decor of the room, reminding him of how horrid a house Gryffindor is, he would gladly endure it again to be in your company. Though he’d safely kept your pin in his trunk, he could still feel its outline beneath his thumb. You’d put so much trust in him, much more than Lily ever did. 

…there is someone in this world that cares about me as much as I do them…

Severus woke up a few hours later, confused as to where he was. He sat up and looked around to find himself on the floor of the common room. He then remembered what had happened last night and looked down to see his book, open, face down on the floor. He quickly picked it up and turned it over, only to panic at the sight of the folded first page. He felt devastated as he tried his best to flatten it, but the crease in the page remained. Closing the book, he reached for his bag and very gently tucked the book back into its place. He swung the strap over his shoulder and was about to head back to the dorm when he caught a glimmer of a very familiar necklace on the floor. The locket. That damn locket, how could he forget?

Picking it up he watched as your name etched its way to the front cover and he simply waited for Lily’s name to appear overtop. But as the seconds went by, it never did. His eyes widened as he began to wonder if the light of the fire was playing a trick on him. Or perhaps this was a dream, though he remembered waking up in the middle of the night and sitting in the common room. It can’t be a dream. He held the necklace by its chain and waited for your name to disappear completely before cautiously placing it in his palm. Once again, your name appeared. Your name and yours alone. 

It was a beautiful sight he had only dreamt of seeing these last few weeks. The cursive writing so clear and bold, displaying the name of the girl he wished nothing more than to have beside him right now. His eyes watered as his lips twitched in joy. It was surreal what he felt in this moment, and he silently hoped it would never fade. Was this the right moment to talk to you? Was he finally worthy of come back to you? If he showed you this necklace, would you believe him when he said he’d love you till the day he died?

His mind replaced all those old questions with desire and need. A need to have you back, to apologize and to beg for your forgiveness, to show you his heart belongs to you alone and he’d love nothing more than to have you back in his life. Severus wiped away the tears streaming down his cheeks as he walked over to the desk in the corner, grabbing a spare bit of parchment from his bag and began writing. 

He had to try. He had to at least try to speak to you now that he’d sorted out the way he felt about you, about Lily. He folded up the piece of paper and gripped the locket tightly in his hand before rushing back to his dorm to get dressed. He suddenly found his morning full of tasks he needed to get done. Things he needed to prepare before heading to see you. He first made his way to the owlery, borrowing a school owl as he tied the note he’d written to it, watching it fly away. He knew its trip would be short and that he’d have his answer sooner than later. So he quickly made his way out thinking over what he would say to you when he saw you, hoping he’d find the right words to say, showing you what the locket had shown him. It wasn’t going to be easy, but he felt ready. Ready to explain himself to you, ready to have you back in his life.

~

Next Chapter

~

@hoppingsnape @dusk-realm @a-slytherin-sin @trashandshook @gbatesx @sneezy-s @emsdroid @leah-halliwell92 @dellightfullydeceitful @xxaamzxx @sparklingkeylimepie @nameless-sovereign @living-in-margins @justanobodyinthisbigworld @soft-slytherin-sweetie @youtube4life10